#Do you want an Encore au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vivalabunbun · 11 months ago

Text

An Encore of Betrayal

Summary: The devil with no sin nor memory and he who has held them all for centuries.

Word Count: 21.8k (get cozy)

Tags: Neuvillette x Fem!Reader, Slow burn, Slow fic, SMUT, NSFW, Historical AU, Fantasy AU?, Reincarnation AU, cursed!neuvillette, dragon!neuvillette, reincarnated!Reader, human!reader, Fluff, a lot of fluff, Melusines doing their best to play cupid, ex-lovers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers? ANGST, he's trying his best, dragon x human dynamics, Monsterfucking (two... I have no defense), cunnilingus(long tongue), marking, size kink? breeding kink, heat, overstimulation, hate sex? kinda?, slightly unhealthy dynamics (past life), dubcon, trust issues, immortal x mortal, slightly possessive!neuvillette, slightly yandere!neuvillette, TW: mild mention of blood, TW: descriptions of drowning, sin, and sacrifice. TW: Trauma from betrayal, themes of resentment, Infertility.

Author's Note: Wanted to try out a historical fantasy from Neuvillette's pov. I struggle with fantastical settings, so overlook any world-building confusion. Mihoyo won't give me his real name, and it's eating away at my sanity. Enjoy!

Somewhere deep beneath the waves, away from the omnipotent watch of false divinity, lies a village. A bustling home carved into an outcast cove nestled under the cover of suppressive tides.

One littered with tiny houses surrounding an impressive estate modeled much like the ones seen in those novels abandoned from capsized ships.

Would you believe that such a place exists?

Decorated with curious trinkets which sunk beneath the surface which had forsaken them, kept in this cove for so long that it was challenging to remember the azure hues.

Ornaments decorating the expanse of this once lonesome cave, almost enough to conceal its true origin: A prison.

A fool sentenced to this penitentiary masquerading as a home, now affectionately named ‘Merusea Village’.

Within that attentively built estate, a looming figure stood in front of a wall lined with neatly organized novels, lilac eyes running along the titles printed along each spine.

A collection saved from watery abandonment after falling overboard by the curious hands of Melusines. Amassed throughout the years until the shelves of this humble library were without vacancy.

Stopping a finger on a spine, he decided on the novel to pass the ever-plenty time bestowed upon him. He’s aware that each book amongst these shelves has been thumbed through by him.

But with enough years, the recollection of the contents contained within each one tends to become foggy.

It's fate that the novel selected in his hands just so happens to be a collection of tales.

Humans have many strange behaviors, one might even call them traditions. One particular tradition mortals seem to indulge in often is that of storytelling.

Lilac eyes browse through the pages, refreshing himself on the tale held within its faded covers.

----------

There once was a lovely kingdom amidst lush pastures and fertile lands where the townspeople sang and danced under the bright sunlight.

But one day the sun disappeared, concealed behind ashen clouds that cried a lonesome hymn, plaguing the unfortunate kingdom with rain.

The origin of the rain stemmed from the lonesomeness of a great dragon of water.

Thus, to stop the rain, the king sent out a princess to the dragon, declaring that the kingdom gates wouldn’t welcome her back if rain fell from the sky. She was sent off in a white gown.

Down below a flooded loch, the princess was offered to the weeping dragon. Looking up the princess saw the sorrowful pools in the beast’s eyes.

‘Hydro Dragon, oh Hydro Dragon, why do you cry?’ She asked.

Intrigued by the bravery of the young princess, the dragon answered: ‘Because I am lonely, I have no brethren left.’

Feeling pity the princess responded: ‘Hydro Dragon, oh Hydro Dragon, don’t cry. I will be lonely with you.’

So the princess befriended a lonesome dragon under the hymn of softening rain, with his loneliness soothed, the sun peeked back out from ashen clouds. But one day, pitiful tears fell from her eyes and the princess wept so bitterly.

The dragon could not bear seeing those tears stain her cheeks. He offered her pearls, jewels, and gold. Yet those bitter tears still fell, tainting the pristine water.

‘Beloved princess, why do you cry so bitterly?’ He implored.

‘I long to go home, I miss my kingdom,’ she revealed.

But she could not go home, for if she stepped foot away from the riverside the lonesome rain would start again. The colossal dragon could not leave the loch, but he could not bear seeing those bitter tears.

So he relented, telling the princess a secret. A secret all dragons buried deep within: His true name.

‘If you speak my name, my true name, then I can grant you one wish. But be careful, for there can only be one wish.’ The dragon whispered.

‘Do you wish to return to your kingdom, beloved princess?’ He asked.

The princess was silent for a long while, weighing the choices in her hand. She longed to return home, but she also longed to be by the side of her kind dragon.

Confident in her decision, she beckons the great dragon closer, until her lips could reach the side of his large head where his ear lay. After whispering his name, she tells the beast her wish.

‘I wish for you to become my prince, so we can return to the kingdom together, that way you won’t ever be lonely again.’

A clever wish he grants with a nod. Scales and claws shedding away until a handsome prince stood in front of her. Thus, hand in hand they returned from the loch to the warm welcome of the kingdom.

And they lived happily ever after.

----------

Ah, so it was that tale.

Judging from the age of the novel, he guesses it must be a rendition of a rendition.

Words and events twisted, embellished, and simplified. Until it became nothing more than a mere fable told to entertain the wandering minds of children.

A beloved tale of a maiden who got a dragon to give up his grand authority, stopping the flood of vengeance from drowning Fontaine.

This is what the origin of his damnation has turned into. The tales of the heroine’s feats sung and written throughout the narrative of time, passing from one generation’s lips to another’s ears.

However, he supposes this is expected of humans. It’s their tradition of storytelling, after all, mending a fallacy into a tale palatable to their conscious.

Or perhaps, these embellishments were added to compensate for the hollows caused by the frailty of mortal memory.

Patching over the holes with flowery words to distract readers from inaccuracies that were only compounded upon from the last.

Fontainians who came to believe in it, must not have known the dragon all that well, considering that they thought the proud dragon would bow to the whims of a meek human.

Placing a secret so simply in her hands at the mere sight of tears.

Did Fontainians not realize that the land they reside on once belonged solely to dragons? How preposterous it is that a sovereign couldn’t set foot upon his own land. Or did they forget why he couldn’t?

What a naive ending, did mortals truly believe that blood and water could dwell together without consequences? That simply wishing the dragon to become a human could resolve all troubles?

To overwrite everything with a ‘happily ever after’ which never happened?

Regardless of his reservations toward such fables, the Melusines always seem eager to gather around for such stories. The towering figure lacked the conviction to deny such requests.

From down the hall approaching closer came the pitter-patter of steps, he turned his tall frame toward the direction of the sound just as a few familiar faces revealed themselves from the library entrance.

“Monsieur Neuvillette! Come quickly! A human! A human appeared!” A group of Melusines tugs on the fabric of his slacks while pointing toward the phenomenon.

A mortal in this domain? A cavern hidden deep under the land and waters where the warmth of the sun couldn’t grace. How did such a being find their way into this sanctum? It’d be best that he alleviates their worries.

“Please lead the way.” Neuvillette closes the novel, returning it to the confines of its shelf.

His swift movements in time with the melusines’ frantic patter as they made their way out from his estate.

Soon the tops of the Melusines’ cozy homes of Merusea Village came into view, as did the murmuring of a distraught crowd.

“Excuse me.” His steps made their presence known, their heads perked up to look at him before parting a path for Neuvillette.

Upon the maroon pasture of Merusea Village was a blanket of silk and woven lace, snowy fabric surrounding the still figure of a human.

Treading closer Neuvillette kneels down while reaching out a hand, weaving his fingers under the fabric which obscures the mortal’s face.

“We found her while gathering offerings from the waters … Is she…” The anxious murmuring quiets to await his verdict.

“She has a pulse,” he reveals, fingertips detecting wisps of warmth along cold skin.

It was faint, but his attentive eyes caught onto the slow movement of her chest. The snowy fabric had greedily drunk up the essence of the sea. Cursing her to sink deeper below the tides.

To leave a mortal in such a state would be too cruel of a fate.

Neuvillette moves his hand to support her covered head as his other arm gathers the damp fabric under her legs.

Carefully, he stands back to his full height, cradling her limp body in his hold. An audience of fretful gazes follow his motions.

“Do not fret, she only requires some rest and a change of clothing, I’ll take her to my abode. Could you gather some cloth to dry down her body?” Neuvillette’s melodic voice just barely above a whisper, so as not to stir the figure in his arms.

His expression softens to offer the compassionate creatures some reassurance. With firm nods the Melusines scatter, determination alight in their bright irises as they sought the necessary items to care for their newfound guest.

The dampness of the heavy fabric seeps into his own attire as Neuvillette turns the knob to grant him entry into his abode.

Quietly ambling through the spacious halls, the master bedroom came into view. Neuvillette lays the limp form upon his sheets, ensuring that her head rests slowly upon the soft pillows.

Just as her figure sinks into the mattress, a chorus of metallic clinks catches his attention. Glancing down her body his lilac eyes discover the origin.

A pair of silver shackles encased around her ankles, the unforgiving metal digging into defenseless flesh.

Gingerly, he takes one ankle into his grasp to better observe the shackles.

This time he couldn’t fight against the deep frown as it debuted upon his lips. His eyes hone on how tightly those heavy chains were bound along the flesh.

Soon the unforgiving metal crashes down to the floor, he soothes the freed skin with his thumb while checking for any other possible wounds.

Lilac eyes travel up to her face for any sign of discomfort, only to be reminded that her face was concealed behind a shroud of lace.

How uncomfortable it must be to have a cold piece of fabric to cover one’s face. Neuvillette places her ankle back onto the bed.

His large hands took hold of the damp veil to lift it from her resting frame, revealing to his draconic eyes for the first time their face.

The veil stays suspended in the air as his hands cease all motion. Hardened gaze tracing over her features, the curve of her cheeks, the slope of her nose, and the structure of her face.

Repeated details he had long seared into his consciousness.

Within those mortal tales, there’s a wide variety of beasts and fearsome creatures. Dragons were depicted as such omnipotent beasts. But there’s a monster all other beast falls secondary to, the devil.

They didn’t possess the sharpest talons nor the largest fangs. No, what made them so horrifying is that they dawned the most enchanting faces.

He’s staring at it right now. The face of the devil who deceived him.

Those gods must be laughing at him right now. Those false idols, with their capricious fate and whims, who once must’ve shook hands with you to carry out their schemes all those years ago.

The scheme which imprisons him here in this humiliating form of the mortal creatures those false idols loved so much.

Yes, a devil, that must be what you are. For how did a meek mortal trick a dragon who once held the full authority of the tides?

His chest expands with a deep breath before a long exhale leaves him. Ah, yes that must be why this white gown has appeared before him again. He removes the senseless scrap of lace, checking once more for signs of discomfort before he turns his body away.

Finding himself outside the threshold of his bedroom as he closes the door behind him. He should wait here for the Melusines to arrive with a change of clothes and towels.

It’d buy him enough time to steadily return the tempestuous loch to a subdued ripple in a pond. His chest expands once more with a deep inhale.

A second cruel rendition unfolding once more in the narrative of time.

The crisp turn of a page resounds through the room. Lilac eyes glanced up from the text every so often to watch the steady rises and falls of your chest from his vantage point of a wooden chair pulled up to the bedside.

Heavy lashes still shut just as they were the day your drenched figure was pulled from the tides by merciful hands.

The journey to wisdom is lined with mistakes, mistakes providing teachings one must ingrain into their very being if they don’t wish to repeat such blunders again.

Just as how a burn seared into skin is a forever reminder that fire indeed burns indiscriminately.

A scar ingrained deep within him cries out for Neuvillette to withdraw from the fire which scorned him so long ago.

Alas, it’s duty which has sat him down beside your sleeping form. You’re the first guest this cove has seen in a long time, thus bringing you under the responsibility of the host, Neuvillette himself.

A stir brings his stoic gaze back away from his thoughts. Your chest rises with a long inhale as leaden lashes flutter open.

The cadence of your breaths begins to rise as more of your senses return to you. Fatigue evident in each slow drag of breath.

“Ah, I see you’ve awoken.” Neuvillette observes.

Your muscles momentarily forget their fatigue as your head snaps toward the owner of the deep voice. Eyes now wide and alert.

“My apologies, it wasn’t my intention to startle you.” He casts a glance toward the steaming bowl on the nightstand.

He could feel the weight of your stare travels up his figure. Do you perhaps remember him? Can you recall his lush snowy locks streaked with azure? Irises that held an all too familiar hue, a multitude of lilac shades much like a field of lavenders.

Does this ‘you’ remember the dragon you fooled?

“W-who are you?...” Your gaze was too cowardly to meet his.

Ah, have the cycle of death and rebirth washed those sins and memories?

The tonality of your trembling voice filled with puzzlement instead of recognition. He should’ve expected this much.

This you is nothing more than a stranger who shares the face of a devil.

“Where am I?” Another question leaves those lips in the absence of a response.

Just give him a moment, allow him to pacify the surging torrent within so their bitterness doesn’t seep into his words.

“You’re in our village!” A cheery voice joins the conversation.

Two pairs of eyes land upon a short figure with a pair of pastel horns. You blink once, then twice, then slowly thrice. Inquisitive eyes stared right back at you.

“W-what… are you?” Instinct commanding your body to retract deeper into the sheets.

A sharp cough halts your actions, drawing your attention back to the man as he lowers his hand down from his lips.

“She’s a Melusine, they prefer to be addressed using she/her pronouns,” he elucidates, an ever so subtle chastise in his tone.

“Oh…” You advert your gaze again, shame creeping onto your cheeks from your unintentional discourtesy.

A few breaths of silence follow, he observes you studying everything but the two figures just beside the bed.

Your fingers soothing over the soft cotton nightgown against your skin, a change from that restrictive and ornate dress.

“We, Melusines, helped you change out of that wet dress. Big sister Sedene said you’d get sick if we left you in that.”

It looks like your diverted gaze wasn’t as subtle as you originally thought. Sheepishly you extend your gratitude.

“Thank you…” Your words draw out, a brow quirked as your stare remained on her short form.

“Kiara!” She points to herself with a mitten hand.

“Thank you, Kiara.” You finish.

Her mittened hand then gestures to the towering man beside her.

“This is Monsieur Neuvillette! He’s the one who carried you here,” she announces.

“T-thank you, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You could only gather the courage to glance at the wall behind him.

“Just Neuvillette is fine,” his tone melodic and calm. “Are you able to sit up?”

Nodding your head, you attempt to fight through the fatigue of your muscles. Neuvillette and Kirara offer their assistance, his firm hands guiding your body up as Kirara adjusts the pillows to support your back.

Once you were situated, he reached for the bowl placed down earlier. A light clink sounds out from a spoon clattering about the porcelain dish. You glance at the contents, noting the clear amber broth.

“This should be kind on your stomach while providing you with some much-needed hydration and nutrients.” He holds out the soup.

A quivering hand attempts to reach up for the bowl, only for muscles to lose to fatigue as your arm limply falls back down to your side. Your strength has yet to return.

Another clink from the spoon resounds in the room as it gets taken into the grasp of an attentive hand. He holds out a spoonful of the warm soup, but your lips remain shut as a skeptical gaze meets his.

“Please forgive this inconvenience, but it’s best that you eat something to regain your strength.” The spoon remains unmoving in his hand.

There’s a rumbling stir within him. A voice snarls into his ear, interrogating him as to why his hand is feeding the very devil who once bit it.

“If you don’t eat you won’t get better.” Kiara’s eyes are riddled with concern as she observes your sealed lips.

That was his rebuttal to that snarl.

The Melusines simply don’t wish to see a human in such a pitiful state. Blissful in their ignorance of events that conspired long before their birth.

Dignity overpowered by the guilt of seeing such pure eyes marred with worry.

Soon your lips part, accepting the spoonful of broth delicately offered by him. After he observes you swallowing the first sip, Neuvillette holds out another spoonful. You part your lips again.

Neuvillette overrides the clamorous warnings of his instincts with the duty of being a ‘good host’, bringing another sip to your delicate lips.

With a regular diet of warm broth with servings of Bulle Fruit on the side, you were soon able to pick up the spoon yourself. The fatigue that plagued your bones finally leaves, allowing you to support your body off the mattress which had your shape imprinted into it.

The Melusines, seemingly born infatuated with humanity, would often gather about your bed.

They were curious about you just as you were about them. To them, you’re the creature from those fairytales he’s read them.

In exchange for your recollections of warm Summer days and descriptions of lush lilac fields swaying in a gentle breeze, they reveal more about this village.

About how the estate you were currently residing in was refurbished by their own-mittened hands, taking inspiration from the various books depicting what human abodes looked like.

The beds, drapes, and even rugs are all arranged by them to create a lovely abode. A drastic change to the worn and rampaged shell it once was before their meddling.

Perhaps if he never filled their naive minds with those tales, they wouldn’t be enamored with you and humanity.

Or maybe it’s the vibrance of your smile that drew their naive souls closer. A warmth like a flickering candlelight beckoning a moth closer.

What are the odds that the hands of fate stayed so faithful to the details of a heroine from so long ago?

From your image to your bewitching mannerisms, and alluring voice, they’re all identical replicas. You and the ‘devil’ from that tale.

Wisdom from a lesson learned long ago, he must not repeat the same mistake. He must not be enchanted by the same flame which scorned him. He must ensure a breadth between you and him, just as those tiresome voices call for.

However, Neuvillette understands he has a responsibility as a host. Thus, he regularly checked on your condition, then when you were well enough to stretch your legs he accompanied you on strolls. Maintaining a respectable distance away.

He guided you through the marble halls of the estate, showing the library and bath which were yours to access whenever you wanted.

Rooms illuminated with the muted glow of luminescence gems and pearls. Water sourced from a hidden freshwater spring.

Impassive eyes observe yours as you look in awe at the facilities and commendations hidden deep under the tides. Were they comparable to the ones you’ve encountered back on the surface?

This estate, these wide stone halls, those pearls and jewels once scattered about, were all made just to please the bitter tears of a mortal. Perhaps his first attempt was too subpar to quell the longing to return to the sunlight.

But gauging from the glimmer reflecting off your eyes, it seems the Melusines attempt was satisfactory at least.

Today’s stroll took you outside of the estate, Neuvillette accompanying you about a routine walk, watching from behind as your eyes scan the dim realm.

The lanterns lining the path of Melusine's home grace the maroon pastures and rocky walls in place of the faint wisps of sunlight offered by the depths of the sea.

Very much expected for a village beneath the waves and earth. Were you reminiscing about the warm grace of the sun you felt up there?

It’s not fair to compare the vast sky of the surface to their cavern hidden away from the eyes of the mortals, perhaps even the divine themselves.

“Monsieur Neuvillette?” You began today’s attempt at a conversation.

“Yes?” He hums in acknowledgment.

He keeps sentences brief, but informative. Counters to your attempts at conversation.

“I’m aware this might sound strange, but is there a dragon down here?” Turning back to face him.

His strides stop as a lull of silence falls over the both of you. The weight of his unshaken gaze upon your shoulders caused them to tense up.

Your hands find each other for comfort under his oppressive stare as he awaits the reason behind this odd inquiry.

“W-well you see, Fontaine has been having awful weather for years now. Saltwater ruining crops and persistent heavy rain, it’s because the Hydro Dragon is crying from his loneliness. I was selected and offered as his bride, to stop the rain, that’s what The Oratrice instructed,” you babble out.

“So…do you know where he is?” Sheepishly you glance up.

The lilac hues of his eyes connect with yours as his lips remain unmoving. Staring into your eyes as he contemplates what you have just revealed to him. Your hands fumble together as you await his response.

“So humans are still telling that local legend…” He sighs.

He has to rein it back. The torrent which threatens to brew within him. Deep breaths to remind himself about the nature of mortals.

Humans are fickle and meek creatures who constantly yearn for something divine to worship, a figurehead to guide them in the turbulence of life.

When faced with hardship and destitution, they believe such concepts to be punishment from above.

Thus, they invent traditions to appease those false idols. Going to great lengths in attempts to pacify those unseen forces, even if it meant sacrificing one of their own.

Perhaps this was the trait of mortals that made them so favored by the usurpers, their naive devotion feeding into the greed of selfish gods.

Maybe that’s why those false idols uprooted the land that belonged to dragons.

“I wonder just how far that fable has spread by now,” he sighs again.

His lashes flutter shut in exasperation as a huff leaves him. It was a moment before they flutter back open to hone in on you. There’s no use in keeping his identity from you any longer.

“Do I seem lonely in your eyes?” Baritone voice steady and low.

No sounds fall from your agape lips as your eyes reexamine his features, this time shamelessly ogling the peculiar details you’ve brushed off previously.

Do you notice it now? How his ears were a bit too pointed, or those two particular cerulean strands of ‘hair’ poking out from his snowy locks.

As you study the specifics of his eyes, do you now comprehend the sharp dark pupils that cut through the multitude of lilac shades? Much like a shadow cutting through a field of lavenders.

“You’re the Hydro Dragon,” you deduce.

He nods in confirmation. Only causing your eyes to scan over him again as your mind reels back from this revelation.

In those stories you’ve read back on the surface, how did they depict him? As a towering scaled beast with fangs and claws? Are you wondering why he’s not matching that description?

“I’m aware that my current shape might not convey such a presence, ” he answers your unspoken question.

He fights for his lips to remain stoic, not allowing the weight of a frown to pull them down. You don’t know, you don’t need to know, he reminds himself.

A detail excluded from the pages of that tale, the ‘princess’ would only ever look at him, would only ever smile at him when a dragon took on this shape. A form which mirrors humans.

In fact, she was so fond of this human shell of his that she cursed him to dwell within it for the rest of eternity.

Neuvillette takes another deep breath, quelling the stir once more. You look like you had more questions.

“So… does that mean the need for a bride is fictitious?” You clutch your hands tighter.

Some years ago, the Melusines were born from spilled blood. A new generation of successors of the brethren he once forsaken. Making this prison much less lonesome, voiding the accuracy of the sentence in that tale.

If that was the case, then why did the waters still rage? Why did the pittering of rain drown out all bird songs and tumults of perplexed citizens? Is there a way he could simplify the details missed by storytellers for generations?

After that ‘happily ever after’, a dragon cursed his devil just as she cursed him.

No, such expositions would be an unfair burden upon your shoulders.

“It’s not fictitious.” Turning to gaze out at the depths of the underground realm, he takes a breath before continuing.

“The land which your nation, Fontaine, resides on is stolen land,” he reveals. “More accurately all of what you know as ‘Teyvat’ was stolen from the dragons, my fellow brethren.”

The furrow in your brows deepens as you listen on.

“My brethren were banished to the depths for the sake of humanity. A dragon’s rage isn’t something that can be easily quelled.” He glances back at you.

“A union between a dragon and a human, a show of peace between the two species. Even if the origins of this ritual have been embellished heavily, it serves the same purpose to pacify the ancient dragon’s rage,” he concludes.

Neuvillette wonders if this tale was enough to satisfy your inquiry, if his attempt at the human practice was enough to simplify the events muddled and twisted by time.

Impassive eyes scan over your expression, not missing the glimmer ever so bright within.

“So… has the rain stopped?” Your hands almost clasped together in prayer.

He nods, the shine growing ever so luminous in those blameless irises, one he couldn’t resist the enchantment of. That all too familiar look in your eyes.

“That’s good.” A slow smile made its appearance upon plush lips.

Ah. He remembers what that look was called, voices of recollection pulling him away from the edge. Just before he fell into bewitchment once more.

That look wasn’t relief, nor was it salvation. It's duty. He takes a slow and deep inhale.

Just as it was all those years ago, the narrative of this tale did not stray away from the plot. He must be more careful.

There’s been a still lull engulfing the atmosphere down in a hidden cavern. So still in fact that walks amongst maroon patches of grass have stopped. Your body was well enough to explore the corners of the state without assistance.

No reason for him to remain by your side throughout the day, and no reason for you to shadow him.

Neuvillette and you keeping mostly to one’s self. It was just the natural progression of things. After all, the ritual had been completed and the tides had receded. You’ve served your duty once more.

A foreign aroma was wafting through the estate, strange enough for Neuvillette to leave the library to investigate the origins of this aroma.

Steps slowing as the clacker of pots and pans becomes more distinct. The entrance of the estate kitchen comes into view, and he peers in to see a few familiar faces.

“Oh? Monsieur!” Rhemia notices his presence.

An assortment of vegetables, spices, and even some meats from fresh catches were spread about the table as a pan sizzling over a crackling fire.

Ingredients gathered from offering dropped down below the tides. The recent influx could be attributed to how the hymn of the rain has ceased.

“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette.” Your smile greets him.

Ah, he’s found the explanation behind the foreign aroma and why the variety spread of ingredients was being utilized in a kitchen that was once mainly created just to match those diagrams drawn in novels.

“I hope you don’t mind my use of the kitchen, I wanted something other than…Consomme Purete.” Wiping your hands with a rag.

Yes, Consomme Purete.

It was the dish served when you had first woken up, a light but nutritious soup that was kind on your stomach. It had the right amount of hydration balanced with nutrients to sustain oneself, a perfect dish.

The only dish cooked in this kitchen, that was until today.

Removing a pan from the heat, you carefully transfer the contents onto a plate then place the pan back on the wood stove.

The rich aroma caused an audience of bright-eyed stares from the Melusines to center upon the steaming plate. Their tails make their excitement clear as they gaze upon a dish they’ve never seen before.

Was this a new passion of this life?... Or was it just one he never got the chance to witness?

Was this the devil before the role of a bride was forced upon her? A devil he’s never known, for all he saw was her performance to stop the deafening rain all those years ago.

His attention was brought back as the chime of cutlery against porcelain was heard, cooked veggies stabbed between the teeth of a fork.

Cupping a hand under the fork, your body leans down to the Melusine’s height, feeding them a bite of the fragrant dish. The wags of their tails increase in cadence as they chew.

“This is Tasses Ragout, tasty isn’t it?” The corners of your lips curl as you watch their little heads nod eagerly.

The suspicion melts from his gaze as he observes to the delight in their expressions, a few mitten hands tugging at the skirt of your gown for a bite. A giggle bubbles from your throat.

A scene mirroring that of a mother trying to appease the appetites of her ravenous young.

Soon your eyes connect and he straightens his posture. Brushing away the nonsensical musing, lilac hue advert away momentarily to recompose themselves before returning.

“Would you like a taste?” A fork offered in his direction, beckoning closer to take a bite.

There’s a myth he’s read about, of a forbidden apple held out by the tempter of all tempters, an apple so red and lustrous it made any mouth salivate.

“Thank you for the offer, however, I’ve already had my lunch.” He refrains.

A bite from that forbidden fruit was the genesis of disgrace and banishment. A betrayal of commandments once promised. Neuvillette won’t be deceived again.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Monsieur! Monsieur! Come look!”

Mittened hands grasping upon his coat and gloved hands as a circle of Melusines guides him through the winding halls, anticipation amping their voices.

There’s a chorus of giggles resounding through the halls, a joyous clamor of pattering steps against the marble floors.

The estate has been lively ever since your arrival in that white dress, a liveness which reaches his pointed ears even from behind closed doors.

Regardless, he allows himself to be towed by their skipping steps. Leading him to a room he recognizes as a space where many fabrics and gowns were collected and stored.

Garments made with the intent to be sold to Fontainians, but their crates were capsized over by the ravenous tides. Saved from watery abandonment by curious hands.

While this form of his could wear a few of those garments, the Melusines had statures much too short for pools of fabric to not drag along the ground. Thus, that collection of fabrics found themselves collecting dust.

Their steps abruptly stop just at the threshold of the door, mittened hands pressed up against their lips signaling for him to remain silent.

Soon their sights glance into the room as he follows, lilac eyes opening ever so slightly wider as they process the scene in front of him.

Evening gowns crafted by skilled tailors to be sold to Fontanian ladies, you had the right frame for those garments as well.

A trail of lustrous sapphire silk gathered behind your figure. The artistic stitching and pleating draping the silk around each curve of your body as if you were the only person meant to wear it.

A few Melusines fussing about the silk train, ever so curious of humanity, they must’ve requested for you to dawn the gown.

Just as they often had requested for him to dawn those fickle suits and coats for their enjoyment.

It seems you bent to their childish whims just as he does.

“How do you like it?” You ask your audience, twirling about in front of a mirror.

It’s different from those hardier dresses for when you wandered about the village and estate, in comparison this dress was much less practical.

“It’s beautiful, Madame!” Their round eyes were enamored.

“I’m glad, who knew you had such an aesthetic eye.” Your expression softens.

Bending down to Carole’s height, you scooped her up. Cradling her as your forehead touches her horns gently.

“Thank you for such a lovely dress.” Placing tender pats along her head, careful to not disturb her horns and hair.

Carole leans into your touch as your smile widens. Twirling once more with her in your arms, giggles ringing throughout the room.

Until your head peeked up, finally aware of the silent spectator just behind the door frame.

“Oh, hello Neuvillette,” you greet him with a smile he doesn’t return.

A tense lull creeps in, and a chill begins to mix with the quiet atmosphere. Lilac eyes pass over your form as Carole remains sat in your arms.

“Monsieur! Isn’t Madame pretty? Look!” Cheery and oblivious voices chime returning the warmth to the air.

Mitten hands release your skirt as they skitter toward his towering figure. Pride shines in their beaming smiles, awaiting validation of their handy work.

Steadfast eyes lowering themselves to the level of their short statures until the sharp edges gradually dissipate.

“A fine effort indeed.” A gloved hand extends to rest atop their heads.

Patting their heads tenderly as they closed their eyes in contentment

A warmth in those lilac hues, endearment no word could ever encapsulate fully.

“Are they your daughters?” Your head slants to the side.

His body stills, strictness reinstated in those violet irises just as they met yours. Studying that look within your polite smile, one which didn’t seem to reach your eyes.

Gloved hand ceasing all movement, his concentration now elsewhere. That expression ghosting your face, what does it mean?

“My apologies, was it too impudent of a question?” Your gaze adverts away, searching for reprieve in this heavy hush.

A deep breath as he formulates his response.

“I don’t share blood with them if that’s what you’re inquiring. However, they are the successors of my brethren.”

“Oh, I see,” you hum.

Neuvillette returns to patting their heads, while you readjust your hold on Carole. Subtly bouncing her, while turning back to face the standing mirror.

Casting a glance, he could discern the softness returning to that polite smile. Yet, the dragon has yet to unravel that luster in your irises.

An audience of bright eyes switches between the Monsieur and Madame.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Bring these to her, you should greet the Madame!” Tiny hands push against Neuvillette’s back.

The traitorous clicks of his shoes against marble expose his approach.

Your head peers up from the book resting upon your lap, in the midst of reading a tale aloud to an audience.

Just in time to catch the tall figure of Neuvillette emerging into the library at the behest of the Melusines.

Lilac eyes meet yours ever so briefly before his gaze averts elsewhere. Gloved hand adjusting a bundle hidden a broad back, brings the other hand up to clear his throat.

“The Melusines found these when retrieving some offerings from the water, I believe you’ll enjoy them.” He presents their trinket.

A simple collection of dainty petals clustered together, pastel hues contrast against vivid virescent leaves. A quaint ribbon tied around the stems holding the bunch together held out in front of your face.

The recipient stares in round-eyed astonishment at the fragrant blooms before a smile melts into your lips.

“Thank you.” You accept the bouquet from his hand.

Admiring the rustic arrangement and the saccharine aroma as the Melusines sat around you leaned in closer to catch a whiff too.

“These are called Pluie Lotus up on the surface, they smell nice right?” Giggling lightly as you held the bouquet closer to their noses.

Grin ever present upon your lips as your soft eyes watch their marvel of such simple weeds. A bloom foreign to this realm abandoned by the sunlight.

There’s subtle slack in his posture, a budding smile just about to unfold just as your head peers back up. Every fiber in Neuvillette’s being tenses, goosebumps slithering up his nape.

Frozen there only able to witness your eyes study back and forth the hues of his irises and the periwinkle color tinting the fragile petals.

He watches an epiphany light up in your widened eyes as the bouquet was lifted higher, turning back to face him.

Don’t. Don’t say the words he knows are hanging off the tip of that honeyed tongue.

“They are the same lovely color as your eyes, Neuvillette.” You beam at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling from the stretch of your lips.

His posture returns to its rigid and upright state, a hand hidden from view balls up into a fist.

A sharpness threatening to break through leather confines and into his palm, as if they were attempting to grapple the surging torrent stirred up within himself.

Why? Why was this line from a script being recited word for every damn word? All said with that saccharine smile plastered over those wicked lips?

Indecipherable eyes narrow ever so slightly before he catches himself. Reining in the torrent just before it seethed out.

He clears his throat again to swallow back the bitterness.

“Do excuse me, please return to your reading session,” he utters his parting.

Promptly turning to return to his secludedness, stepping past the Melusines gathered by his side.

Swift strides through the empty halls leaving you to your peace and him to his peace, just as it should’ve been. Much to the pouts of a disappointed audience.

However, he didn’t have the mind to contemplate their discontent. Not when these rabid bellows drown out every other thought in their rancor.

Like a sea starved for vengeance, ravenous to settle a debt against those vile gods and their beloved creations.

A brass knob was abruptly twisted, hinges squealing in surprise as at the force as Neuvillette shuts it behind himself.

Ragged breathes resounding through the reprieve of his bedroom. Away from innocent bystanders and the devil who showed her face again after all these centuries for an encore.

Has he not been humiliated enough? He tugs at his cravat, freeing himself from the fickle decoration constricted about his neck in this already imprisoning body.

A form which binded him no matter how violently talons and fangs clawed and chewed, unable to leave a singular dent upon this damn curse.

This was humiliating enough, bound to this cove that separated him from the sea which cries for their sovereign.

He once believed this penitentiary was obscured away from the peeking eyes of capricious gods. Perhaps, he’s wrong.

Why is this fantasy being played out right in front of his eyes now after all these years?

To have you by his side, to have you reside in the home he craved out and inlaid pearls into, to see you smile and cradle young against your bodice. It’s insulting.

Because this was all he ever wanted. This was all he had ever wanted.

The lonesome dragon only ever yearned for a maiden’s endearment. He once believed she adored him back just the same.

Because while she lay within his arms under silken covers, her bare skin pressed against his mortal shape, her enchanting eyes always regarded him with such tenderness as her delicate hand stroked his cheek.

A glimmer he once believed was love.

The tale written along the parchment implied that the ‘princess’ loved the dragon. However, that was inaccurate. She never did.

For if she loved him, then she wouldn’t have deceived him.

She wouldn’t have ever whispered his secret to the town’s folk. Those foul creatures who then used his secret, which was once reserved solely for ‘you’.

Why? That simple question taunted him for decades as he rotted in this mocking solitude.

Why did ‘you’ yearn for the sun more than him? Was his love not enough to replace the warmth of a star? Was the home he made not enough when compared to the extravagance of humanity?

Or was it because blood and water, no matter how much they intertwine and mix, could never produce wine?

If… if the Melusines had been born just a few centuries earlier, then would you have been satisfied by his side? An answer he could already discern.

Because after his decades of solitude within these deridingly hushed walls, he finally accepted the truth.

She loved her people, they took up all the space of her heart, leaving no room for a prideful leviathan.

What a clever plan it all was, to distract a sovereign from his duty, cleansing stolen land with a flood of vengeance, by sending a maiden.

A woman so bewitching, so enchanting, and so lovely, that a proud dragon couldn’t resist bending to her whims. Spilling the secret hidden deep within him into her ear.

Abandoning his true form to be confined in the shape she favored the most. Then lured up to the surface, suspicions obstructed by the dazzlement of a false welcome from the nation of Fontaine.

Unaware until the scorching knife was already lodged in his back. Using the secret he had only ever told you, those meek creatures of the usurpers wished:

‘For the rest of one’s life, one shall never leave this cave deep beneath the tides’.

What a clever ploy, a masterly crafted master plan. Did that Oratrice bestow it upon mortals? Or was it your own little scheme? A devil in human skin who must’ve been enlisted by the god themselves.

That day when he was chained by that loch, you didn’t even bother to grace him with your presence.

You cruel, cruel devil whose heart only had room for her fellow citizens of Fontaine, whose eyes only ever glimmered with duty.

Neuvillette had finally comprehended the truth, he had made peace with the disgrace he brought upon himself.

So why did those vile false gods dangle you back in his face? They had already taken fragments of his authority.

Was his torment entertaining to them?

Lungs shaking with unsteady breaths, he could feel the pricks of scales dotted along his skin only for this body to swiftly reject it. A turmoil of draconic influence constrained by a mortal curse.

Like a beast kept in a cage much too small for it. If Neuvillette wishes for this agitation to cease, he must cease the stirred emotions.

Emotions don’t settle quickly once agitated like sand attempting to settle at the bottom of violent tides. He paces his shuddery inhales, biding in the solitude of his room until the storm dissipates.

To avoid the placid lake within him from thrashing violently to the woes from the throb of a wound which has yet to scar over, Neuvillette found it best to avoid your presence.

The lanterns outside the Melusine’s homes had long gone out as they followed their routine bedtime.

The expanse of the cavern dimmed to near blackness, the small creatures all tucked away soundly in their beds. A hushed ambiance provides a suitable environment for reflection.

His steps flatten the grass underneath as they accompany his strides with their rustling.

The absence of light had never bothered him, it’s within his nature to detest it. Any beast would withdraw away from the mere image of fire.

The rustle of the grass halts, a wispy aroma of smoke wafts towards him. It doesn’t take long to identify the origin. Only a small flicker broke through the shadows, candlewick fostering only a weak flame.

But it was enough to fend the shadows away from your frame.

The flame’s light caught on each subtle ripple of the pond you were kneeling over.

The seemingly unremarkable pool served as the sole entrance and exit to Merusea Village. Where the Melusines traveled through to gather food, fresh water, and trinkets swallowed up by the waves.

Cold waters catch the bitter droplets of your pained eyes in the reflection of the ripples upon the surface, the distorted silhouette of a weeping devil.

An unspoken gospel revealed to draconic pupils.

Under the rich aromas wafting from the kitchen, behind the diligently tailored gowns, and hidden in the cadence of your voice as you read tales aloud, laid the yearning for the rays of a bright star.

You’re human, a creature fleeting and meek by nature. Blood yearns to be with blood just as every drop of rain yearns to return to a cloud.

A sharp rustle of grass under a heavy step jolts your hunched-over posture straight, head whipping around to face the uninvited audience.

Once those weeping eyes recognize the brooding figure in front of them, your face adverts away from his direction. Shame evident upon your expression.

A concerned hand reaches out only to retract away, contrition marring his shut lips as Neuvillette diverts his eyes too.

Fire burns indiscriminately, even the dancing flame of a candle can sear its mark upon skin. Neuvillette knows this all too well, for the lesion he received from embracing that flame once still festers even after all these years.

However, lilac eyes pan back towards the orange glow illuminating your melancholic face. Warm hues contrast against the wet trails down your cheeks. There’s an ache more agonizing than a festering wound.

His steps advanced closer until he was knelt down by your slump frame. A benevolent touch lands upon your shoulder. Guiding you away from the taunting waters and into his arms, hiding your face in his broad shoulder.

Offering you a semblance of warmth in a coven shunned from the grace of gentle sunlight.

With your face away from his gaze, the cacophony of your sobs returns, digging your fingers into the folds of his dress shirt.

Echoed back mockingly by the cold cavern walls.

Perhaps a foolish dragon has yet to learn his lesson, still lured in that the brilliant light of a flame.

A gentle hand traces up along your back, softly brushing your hair away to reveal the skin of your nape to his sharp pupils.

Honed in upon untainted skin, the courts of rebirth may have removed the proof of your damnation, but not the hex itself.

Or maybe, a foolish dragon feels some responsibility for being the one to curse you to this fate.

A mark once imprinted upon your nape by a lonesome dragon, a heavy oath sworn to you engrained into the very fabric of your soul amidst the first rendition.

One which then became the cursed chains that sunk you under the unforgiving waters.

It’s said that love is heavy, a weight greater than the density of water. A heaviness which could sink anything and everyone under salty tides.

A heaviness originating from this accursed prison where a disgraced being resided.

Even as the earth above welcomed new generations as they said goodbye to bygone times.

The solitude of a fool turning into ravenous waves which seeped into soil until its appetite was satiated by the return of its beloved treasure.

It’s his fault that the tides stole you from the sunlight.

The courts of rebirth had already forgiven you of this burden, not a single memory remaining of that tale.

What right does he have to place it back upon you? There’s no point in punishing one for a sin that had been cleansed by the tides of time.

You didn’t deserve to be held away from the warmth of a benevolent sun.

To have been dragged down below to these depths. To have been stolen away from the warmth of the sun by the command of fickles gods and ancient grudges.

It’s much too severe of a sentence for you, someone who didn’t deserve to repent for a sin that wasn’t truly yours.

Is it okay for his hands to wipe away your tears when this cursed dragon was the cause of your agony?

Even if it’s wrong, Neuvillette holds you closer. Even if he didn’t have the right, he pressed your face in his shoulder. Allowing the vehemence of your tears to scorch his skin as you buried your cries into him.

Glancing at the pool you had been leaning over, he watches as the ripples of the surface taunt you and him the same.

Two beings whose bodies couldn’t embrace the tides. Two cursed beings who’ve been trapped in repeated play.

“It seems you’re bound to this prison as well.” He scorns those gods and ancient grudges, but he scorns himself the most.

Confined behind a human face and a human body, a traitor who’s lost his birthright over the waters who couldn’t welcome him.

How can a cursed dragon quell those choking sobs of yours? How can he atone for his selfish sin?

Neuvillette takes a deep breath just your tears continue to soak his skin. Steeling his resolve, he meditates on the one resolution he can offer you.

“Fontainians still tell a tale about a princess who wished a dragon to become a prince, yes?” He begins.

After a pause filled with hiccups and shaky breaths, you nod your head as an answer.

“It was when she spoke the dragon’s true name that he granted her one wish,” he recounts the tale, feeling the trembles of your shoulders.

“That part of the story isn’t fictitious,” he reveals.

Voices from the depths of his rationality whisper for him to stop, to expand no more upon this secret of his brethren. Clamorous warnings to a traitor to not repeat his past transgressions.

However, he obeys no edict from the heavens or origins. Not when an unjust punishment caused such heart-wrenching sobs.

“Names hold great significance to dragons. So much so, to whoever learns their true name, a wish can be granted.”

Slowly, your tear-stained face pulls away from his crinkled dress shirt. Finally meeting his lilac gaze. He notes the bewilderment which surrounds his reflection in your eyes.

“Is… your name not ‘Neuvillette’?” You inquire.

“It’s a surname bestowed upon me by the mortals of the land.”

“Then… What is your name?” A glimmer of optimism ever so subtly debuts in your eyes.

He could not tell you. No matter how beautifully that light shines, this was one ordinance he couldn’t ignore. All he could do was glance away as he shakes his head. Unable to bear the sight of that light extinguishing.

“That is what you must find for yourself.”

Perhaps this is his defiance of the plot which has been unraveling for so long. His attempt to step off that circular path, searching for a different end.

The silent audience of fate watching on with bemusement to where this rendition will lead.

“Oh?”

What a peculiar occurrence, Neuvillette was just about to exit his study when he found himself just a breath’s width away from you. Instinctively, he takes a step back behind the threshold of the doorway.

Passive eyes studying your form, you must’ve been standing there for a while. A hand held up intending to knock on the oak door returns to your side as you stare at the floor.

“Is there something you need assistance with?” He continues to study you.

Lilac eyes observe as your fingers clasp together, a common habit of mortals when nervous, if he recalls the contents of a book correctly. Another minute passes before you take a deep breath.

“Is your name Guillaume?” You peer up.

Ah, so this is what you wished to inquire about.

The secret revealed to you that day beside an exit neither he nor you could cross. Guillaume, a name befitting of nobility. But unfortunately, not for a dragon.

He responds with a shake of his head, expression stiffening as he watches the corners of your lips drop ever so slightly.

“Oh…”

It seems his existence brings nothing but a frown upon those soft lips, Neuvillette felt it’s best to retreat from your sight.

This attempt was evidence of your determination to return to the embrace of a warm star.

It wouldn’t be right for him to interfere, despite those vile voice whispers murmuring from the depth of his mind. It wouldn’t be fair to you.

It’s best to maintain this distance between his hand and yours, for your sake and his.

Which begs the question, why were you still standing here in front of him?

“Is that all you wished to inquire?” Neuvillette hopes the Melusines will lift your spirits after he withdraws.

“Actually…” You began. “I made some soup and if you haven’t had lunch yet, would you like to try some?”

Although his stoic face might not reflect it, he’s positively baffled. Were ‘you’ always this enthusiastic about food?

The devil he knew before would view the freshest catches and clearest waters offered by a dragon with blasé reactions.

You used to recoil away from the fishes and meats he held out to you, they were only ever touched once he charred them over a fire.

Then again the kitchen back then was much more barren than the present, cabinets now decorated with bottles of fragrant spices and herbs.

Was it just a difference in palate? To reject such an invitation would be to squander a precious opportunity for investigation.

“The pleasure would be all mine.” He matches your strides as the two of you traverse toward the kitchen.

Settling down in a chair at a wooden table, Neuvillette watches as you ladle some soup into a bowl. Following your form as you set the bowl down in front of him. A pleasant aroma accompanies the steam emitting from the bowl.

“It’s Fontainian Onion Soup.” You hand a spoon over.

“Thank you.” He takes the utensil and scoops a hearty serving of the rich soup.

A distinct flavor of caramelized onions and the creaminess of cheese. The broth had been thickened with a bit of flour and the cheese added to the heavy mouth feel.

This dish certainly expresses the flavor preferences of humans… but could such a thick broth really be considered soup?

“Do you like it?” Your head tilts to the side as he feels your inquisitiveness.

Dabbing a napkin over his lips, he clears his throat.

“A fine dish indeed. Although increasing the liquid content and reducing the amount of fat could improve it,” he advises.

A hush falls over the kitchen, nothing but the occasional crackle of a fire filling the space.

“Oh… I’ll keep that in mind.” Your voice was restraining something.

As you turn away, Neuvillette catches the subtle shakes of your shoulders.

Ah, has he caused offense? He recalls how cooking and food preferences amongst humans tend to be a sore spot for most, some books going as far as to claim critics as attacks on one’s pride.

You had taken time out of your day to prepare a bowl for him, and he gave senseless comments in return.

“Ah, but it’s delicious regardless, thank you.” He has to remedy this situation.

The shakes of your shoulders increase, as a hand covers your lips.

“Thank you, Monsieur.” Your lips seem to be trying to stifle something.

After finishing your sentence, your lips pressed tighter together. He could see the corners twitching as they tried their best to remain neutral.

Before he could get another word in, you excused yourself. Leaving him in front of the warm soup.

In that moment, Neuvillette vows to himself that even if you were to hand him a piece of charcoal he’ll swallow it without a single complaint.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Is your name Édouard?”

Your voice causes him to turn his attention away from the pages of a book this quiet evening.

You stood just off to the side of the bookshelf where he was browsing, a candle illuminating the curiosity held in your eyes. Presenting a name likely discovered from those very same shelves.

Dirges ring from the corners of his mind, warning him not to allow the light to approach so close.

However, where is a shadow supposed to withdraw to when the light seeks him?

Just as how the tide couldn’t run away from the shore for long. Steadfast and constant attempts to unravel the secrets held by the ebbs and flows.

Alas, he shakes his head again today, steeling his nerves as he catches the slight drop in your shoulders. Louis, Étienne, Théodore, and all those previous guesses, are names of heroes in Fontainian tales and epics.

Popularized to the point many boys were named after them, but no parent would ever want to name their child after a dragon, a beast.

He doubts the pages of history have ever recorded his name.

Your disheartened gaze couldn’t meet his, choosing to stare into the space beside him. He couldn’t fault you for that.

All your efforts of combing through old novels to search for obscured monikers just to be undone by a shake of a head.

He’s not sure how much longer he can endure being the origin of your melancholy.

“There’s a tear in your coat…”

Your voice brings him out of his thoughts, he glances at the spot your eyes were honed on and spots the aforementioned tear.

“Ah, I see. My apologies for being in such an unsightly state, ” he sighs. Lilac eyes ran along the jagged seams.

He should go find a replacement from his wardrobe, but you still looked like you had something to say.

“I can fix it if you’d like,” you offer.

It’s just a garment, a piece of cloth that fell off some merchant’s ship and found itself in the walls of a cove. There were plenty of other garments that suffered the same fate, picked up by pairs of curious mittened hands.

To replace this robe would be simple, but he notes the concealed eagerness in the fidget of your fingers. It must be rather dull for you down here for the past year, to the point you resorted to repairing old fabrics for enrichment.

Regrettably, Neuvillette admits he’s not the best host. He’s got no talent for small talk nor does he know how to entertain you, thus he left it up to the Melusines. However, he could at least do this much as a host.

“Thank you, I’d be grateful if you do.”

His steps in time with yours through the halls as an old storage room comes into view. Still filled with collections of folded gowns and coats.

As he observes the room, you guide him to a pair of wooden chairs, a box filled with needles and threads beside one. You place the candle down on a nearby table.

“I’ll take your coat.” Holding out your hands.

Following your request, he slips the robe off his shoulders, leaving him in a dress shirt and slacks.

Attentively you take the garment, settling down in a seat as your hand searches through the box. After your rummaging stopped, you glance back at him.

“It won’t take long, please have a seat.” Gesturing toward the other chair.

Lilac eyes scanned the aged seat, the door was just beyond it, it wouldn’t take much of an excuse for him to walk past the wooden threshold.

However, he pans back to your anticipatory gaze still awaiting. It wouldn’t be polite to deny such a simple gesture.

Thus, he heeds your request, ambling toward the empty seat, he begins to settle down just as a rip resonates through the air.

His body halts all movement just as yours did, toward pairs of eyes trained on the sleeve that had been caught on the edge of a wooden table.

The fibers of his shirt entangled with the jagged edges causing his sleeve to rip. Neuvillette truly has yet to acclimate to such fickle inconveniences.

“Pfft!-” Quickly your hand covers your mouth.

Lips pressed together as they tried their best to stifle the sounds threatening to leak out. Your shoulders shaking from the effort, just as they did that day in the kitchen.

Although his expression remains the same, he’s quite dumbfounded.

Unable to contain the sounds any longer, you erupt into a fit of giggles as he continues to stare. The bright chimes of your laughter fill the room, a melodic tune he had longed to hear for so long.

“S-sorry, I just didn’t expect you to… be so clumsy.” Giggles fragment your sentence along with a brief pause to collect yourself.

Clumsy. Yes, he remembers that word, an adjective you used to describe a dragon whenever he took on the shape you favored so much.

Of course, even a great beast like a dragon would totter and stumble when in such a foreign body.

Although he has been in this body for many, many years now, yet, Neuvillette hasn’t acclimated to these fickle mortal attires.

If these garments weren’t pushed into his hands by the Melusines and their bright-eyed stares, he’d prefer to not dawn them.

Neuvillette shuts his eyes. His lungs intake a deep breath, stifling the sway of these trivial inconveniences before they cause any ripples.

Once he’s certain there was no jagged edge to his stare, lilac hues peek back upon your figure.

By now those fits of giggles had faded into a tranquil lull, your content face focused on the stitches. Body relaxed against the back of the chair, weaving the needle through the sides of the tear.

Subconsciously, his frame begins to mimic yours, rigid muscles melting against the wooden support.

Lavender hues follow the disappearance of a sliver point, then catch its emergence from the fabric.

The torn and frayed edges draw closer and closer together by the coaxes of the thread, each stitch attentively placed by your graceful hands.

“Neuvillette?” Your serene voice interlaces with the placid interlude.

He hums an answer.

“That night by the entrance… you said ‘You're bound to this cove as well’.” The pace of the needle slows.

“Why did you say that?” You finish your question.

Observant, a characteristic of yours he’s always deemed quite commendable. Ever so keen on the nuances of his sentences.

The piercing stare of draconic eyes weighs on your shoulders, despite that the cadence of the needle didn’t falter. A ripple makes its appearance within a placid pool.

“Do you really wish to know?” He warns.

You hum resolutely. A bitter taste creeps its way up his tongue, the recollection of the string of words which damned him here.

Instinct advises him to swallow them back, to conceal his shame from your awaiting ears. However, answering the call of your curiosity should be enough of a repayment for repairing a coat.

“For the rest of one’s life, one shall never leave this cave deep beneath the tides. That is the curse set upon this body,” he reveals.

The needle stops.

“A curse?…” you stammer out.

Under your breath, Neuvillette hears you recount the disclosed secret. Repeating it to yourself as if to decipher the syntax, to find some answers to his condemnation.

The answer was sitting just in front of him.

“…For the rest of one’s life… well, how long do dragons live?”

To mortals, it’s time who is the reaper of their existence. From the moment a newborn sounds their first cry to the final draw of air on their deathbeds, it was the hands of a clock who ruled over them.

But such hands could not touch a being such as him.

“The life of a dragon begins and ends in the Fontemer Sea, born from it, made from it, and shall return to it to be born again.” He wonders if mortals could grasp such a concept.

“Oh…” Your tone grew more somber.

Judging from your tonality, you must’ve pieced the allusions together.

To be contained within these stone walls with only a pool of seawater he could not touch as the opening, is to bestow upon him immortality he never asked for.

For the Hydro Dragon could not return to the Fontemer Sea.

Even if dragons had long lives, it didn’t mean the humiliation of immortality. The true cruelty of this seemingly kind curse.

“Why?” Your voice just barely above a whisper.

Why was he cursed? Why is he in this sham of a mortal body? Why did he reveal the secrets of his brethren? All of this at the trifling sight of bitter tears.

“Because the people of Fontaine found my name and they wished for it.”

Why did he give you his name? And why did you then give it away? There are many questions left unanswered by that tale.

Why did a proud dragon bow to the whims of a mere mortal in that fairytale?

A creature as potent as a dragon should never bow, not to the ordinances of false gods, not to the turbulence of fate, and not to a mere mortal.

Why did a maiden wish for a dragon to become a human like them? Water is an adaptable element, able to take on any shape it pleases. However, it yearns to always return to its natural shape.

Perhaps, his ‘natural’ form appalled the devil too much. So much so, she used that one wish to confine him in the form she favored most.

More confoundingly, why did Neuvillette allow such a request? A creature favored by the usurpers dared to wish a dragon to abandon his heritage, to cross over the threshold of humanity just for their sake.

Why would a dragon ever bow to a mortal’s request?

The commandments of a false god and the howling thrashes of wind can’t make a proud dragon bow, but the weight of love might be enough for a prideful beast to lower his head towards a mortal.

A traitor to his own fallen brethren is much too dignified of a title for Neuvillette. No, it’d be better to call him for what he is: A Fool.

What a spectacle it was that day, even those fickle gods peered down just to watch. A fool who lost his form and authority was imprisoned beneath the tides.

A stir shakes that pool, whirling and writhing, the billows of bitterness mounting.

“… could it be wished away?” Your voice beckons his thoughts to return to the present.

Unlike how it was written in those tales, a curse can’t be ‘broken’. Not by a kiss, and not by clasping one’s hands together in prayer.

“Not even a miracle could make a curse vanish, a curse only ever goes away once its clauses have been fulfilled.”

Until the stars burn out, until the sky caves in on itself, or until the oceans of this uprooted world dry up, he shall remain here. The retribution a traitor deserves.

He shall remain in this sham of a body, unable to become the form he desired the most in the next life he’ll never reach.

Not a human, not a dragon, just an atrocity somewhere in-between. This must be what humans call ‘purgatory’.

“I see…” Your attention never leaves the half-stitched garment sprawled upon your lap.

A heavy silence fills the space between you and him once more. To conclude a conversation on such a doleful note would be a disgrace.

However, what is he to say? What words can salvage this situation? Neuvillette has no talent for small talk, he doesn’t have the same mortal heart as yours to provide you with any solstice.

Amidst his contemplation, a soft hum resounds through the quietude, and the melodic rhythm of a lullaby begins. It seems that you took matters into your own hands, ending the doleful silence at your own discretion.

Once more his back reclines into the wooden chair, pointed ears indulge themselves in a nostalgic tune.

It’s strange, that rippling pool is swaying back to equilibrium. The surface returns to its placid rest as tension melts from his muscles.

Unaware of the hushed pitter-patter of a curious audience, drawn in by the gentle song as their bright eyes peer ever from the cover of the door frame.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Madame! Look I got more Pluie Lotuses!” Kiara’s little steps rush across the marble floor.

Getting up on the tips of her feet to show the bundle of fresh blooms, salty water still dripping from their petals, as her bangs stick flush to her face still damp from the sea. Her pink tail swaying behind her.

Your body turns in her direction just in time with Neuvillette.

“Kiara…” A subtle layer of disapproval emerges from lilac hues.

“Remember to dry off before entering the estate, the floors can become quite dangerous when wet.”

“But…” the flowers lower. “I wanted to show Madame the lotuses…”

There’s a drop in her tail and horns and a sharp sting to his chest. Her sisters were gathered around in a circle, a story having just concluded, he could feel their stares upon him. Adding to the sharpness of guilt.

“My apologies, Kiara, I only meant to warn you.”

She nods her head silently, tail still dragging on the floor. Ah, just what should he do? A frown begins to weigh down his face.

“Thank you, they’re wonderful, Kiara.” Your gentle chime breaks through the stalemate.

You take the bouquet from her mittened hands, placing them atop a counter, in exchange you offer her a towel.

“But Neuvillette is right, it’s not good to run through the halls right after you returned from the waters. It’s dangerous, okay?” Your voice as gentle as the towel rubbed over her hair and horns.

A content smile returns to her round cheeks as she diligently nods, promising that she’ll be more careful next time. Tail lifting up from the floor as the fluffy towel wipes away the ocean droplets.

Once fully dried, she joins her sisters. The Melusines cast shifting glances toward one another until one finally steps out from the crowd.

“Madame…” Carole calls out softly, tugging a few times the hem of your long dress.

“Hm?” Giving her your full attention, a towel set aside.

“I overheard you inquiring about names with Monsieur in the library once, could you be…” Her eyes downcasted.

Oh. This time it was Neuvillette and you who exchanged glances, eyes both reflecting the same dread.

They weren’t supposed to know. They weren’t supposed to hear those slapdash guesses.

He never meant for them to find out. Always careful to never discuss such matters in their earshot.

For how could he bear to tell them that their cozy village was actually a prison?

His mind was unable to conjure up an excuse, tongue unwilling to speak it. They weren’t supposed to find out. Oh, what shall he do now?

“Could you be expecting?”

Huh?

Two pairs of eyes widened with bewilderment, mind stunned into silence and lips just as confused.

Somehow they’ve huddled even closer than before, encircling you and him with their bright eyes and tails swaying with anticipation.

“Will there be a new addition to the village?”

“How long do we have to wait?”

“Are we getting a brother or sister?”

Their chatter and probes homogenized into a jumbled symphony his flustered conscious just couldn’t distinguish. Trying to reel his senses back from this unexpected turn of events. Neuvillette clears his throat.

“No,” he coughs out.

A collective ‘aw’ resounds through the air, their tails and horns drooping down at the announcement. Guilt pierced its nail through his chest once more. However, he couldn’t lie to their bright eyes.

“N-not, yet.” You add to his statement.

A wave of inquisitive‘oh’ ripples through the crowd. Tails picked up from the ground as the glimmer in their eyes returned.

A sweet lie sprinkled over the truth neither of you dare tell, that blood and water can’t make wine.

“Then, do you want a little prince or little princess?” Carole chirps.

You remain silent, only gazing down at their faces as they stare back.

A lilac stare was also focused upon you, his curiosity awakening at this question as well. He watches you take a slow breath before leaning down.

“I’d like to have a daughter, sweet and kind like all of you.” Your hand strokes her soft trestles.

Her head nuzzles into your palm as giggles fill the air. Only draconic eyes study the small smile upon your lips, dipped in bittersweetness.

Did you have a lover back on the surface in this life? Perhaps someone who was promised to you. A real prince this time.

Did you have dreams of basking in the grace of the sun, cradling a bundle as a pair of tiny fingers encase around your own?

Was this the hard-earned happy ending you yearned for?

“Monsieur…” Mamaere tugs on his slacks.

Neuvillette reigns his thoughts back from their escapade, he angles his head down.

“Where does a baby come from?”

The smile on your lips stiffen just as Neuvillette’s body does.

If there’s a god who’s peering into this cavern deep below the land and sea, must they send such dilemmas his way?

How does one navigate through this treacherous domain?

“Oh dear! I just remembered.” Your hands clap together.

“There’s a few ribbons and clips in the fabric room, do you girls mind getting them? So we can braid Monsieur’s hair?”

At once the Melusines stand at attention, focus diverted over their excitement at the prospect of decorating snowy locks.

The patters of their little steps trample down the hall, allowing you and Neuvillette a well-deserved moment of reprieve.

“Thank you.” His posture drops slightly as a hefty sigh leaves him, lids shut for a moment of rest.

“Of course, Sébastien.”

His eyes crack open, casting you a glance with a raised brow. The ghost of a grin barely contained by delicate lips. By this time, Neuvillette couldn’t recall all the past attempts.

“Regrettably, that is not my name.”

“Was it at least a decent attempt?”

He could hear the pout in your voice, one that didn’t last long before a light-hearted laugh follows it.

Closing his eyes once more as he indulges in those chimes, he nods ever so slightly. It was a good attempt, for it brought out those sounds he enjoyed.

His lashes flutter open at the sensation of his hair getting gathered in your tender hold. Passing the carved wooden teeth of a comb through his snowy locks.

Careful to not pull or tug on them as you coaxed the tangles out of their knots. The heaviness upon his shoulders leaves with a deep exhale which left his body, indulging in your attentive touches.

Subconsciously, his gaze trails up at the bundle of flowers resting along the wooden table. It wasn’t the periwinkle blush of the delicate petals that commanded his attention.

No, it was that salty, oceanic wisp mingled with the flora aroma. A fleeting essence of the sea.

“Do you miss the sea?”

Ah, it seems that his stare wasn’t as subtle as he had hoped. Neuvillette turns away from the flowers as if he had been caught amidst a scheme.

Facing in front of him, your paused hands signal your wait for his response.

“I suppose it’s only natural for me to long for it.”

After all these years, Neuvillette believes he has finally grasped it, an answer to that void filled with ‘whys’. As if he had seized the reflection of a star from the bottom of a deep lake.

Neuvillette thinks he understands why you and the devil yearned for the sunlight.

Perhaps the one similarity between proud dragons and arrogant humans. They both ache to return to where they came from.

One yearns for the sea. One yearns for land.

For there and only there, could their sins and grudges be purged. To gain the most restful sleep before the hands of fate shape them anew from the element.

“Hmm,” you hum in acknowledgment.

Fingers gentle and slow as they brushed through his hair. You hum a lullaby to accompany each pass of the comb. Melodies that made his ears yearn for more, craving for more sounds to leave your plush lips.

His hair had always been an inconvenience, capricious strands that were seemly curious of everything in his environment.

Snowy tresses find themselves gravitating towards door hinges, door knobs, and even the minuscule gaps in ornate furniture.

However, your patience hands untangled those unruly stands.

When a knot proves to be particularly stubborn, you tend to lend closer to hone in on the troublesome tangle.

It just so happens that a stubborn knot appeared, causing you to decrease the proximity between your bodies.

The heat radiating from your frame sends delightful pickles along his skin, a delicate warmth making his flesh grow feverish.

A hunger deep within begins to grumble and wallow, a greed that wishes to dig past those frivolous fragrances to get to the true taste he craves.

An ugly gluttony pleading to delve into your soft flesh. Ah, he recognizes the cause of this turbulence now…

Neuvillette clears his throat.

“I believe I’m beginning to feel unwell, so please refrain from venturing into the cellar for the next few weeks. I should quarantine myself.” Too ashamed to turn back and face you.

“Oh?...” The comb stops.

At this distance, he was well aware of your scent. A fine fragrance no water or bloom could hope to imitate. Concealed under a layer of lavish soaps and oils dropped from the surface was an aroma that was wholly yours and yours alone.

A gloved hand reaches up to cover his nostrils, seeking some barrier between that tantalizing whiff.

“Please, excuse me…” He pulls away swiftly.

The sudden action must’ve jostled his hair too much, for the sultry sensation of your fingertips was felt along azure ‘strands’.

Just a minor touch against his horns, yet shudders rack up his nape. His teeth sink into the flesh of his bottom lip, sharper than they’re supposed to be, anchoring those ravenous voices at bay momentarily.

He needs to leave now. For your sake.

Rushed strides stow a distance between his body and that delectable warmth of yours. His back turned to you as he couldn’t bear to see the expression upon that saccharine face.

Just what expression were you making as a dragon retreated?

The cellar of this estate was always cold, its stones never having once touched the sunlight before, thus they only brood in their frigidity. A somberness fitting to quell a heat which yearned to burn.

The fever has consumed his body wholly, each pant leaving trails of foggy wisps. Neuvillette burrows deeper into the hoard of sheets, pillows, and blankets. The brush of the soft fabrics prickles his skin.

How strange it is that despite the fever of heat igniting each corner of his flesh, despite the numerous thick covers twisting and burying his bare form, he’s still shivering.

A chill ingrained so deep it’s in his very bones, skin alight but bones frozen over, just what is this purgatory?

Annually it happens, a period where primal instincts exude past the rigid confines of a mortal form. Making its influence in the resurgence of draconic features over the mortal flesh that traps him.

No matter how raw his true form claws to be released, the mortal prison doesn’t relent. A curse he’s brought upon himself.

Laceratations of gluttony and cardinal sin sink deeper with each provocation. The creeks of the floorboards above and the sweet voice which leaked through the woods, the morsels of you that stirred the waters of instinct.

From the depths of the torrent, he’s so desperately suppressing came the unquenchable thirst to lure you in. Beckon you down to this shadowy cellar so that the ugly and primal waters could swallow you wholly.

But he mustn’t. Those soft touches and smiles had just been bestowed upon him, the twine of trust still delicate. How could he ever squander such privileges? For those lovely eyes of yours to look at him filled with nothing but fear and disgust, he’d rather be chained down here for the rest of eternity.

He must endure it for a bit longer, he knows it’ll be over soon. The gale which sweeps through him is slowly lessening its blows.

Even if the waters of primitive instincts howled and stormed, Neuvillette refused to leave this tangle of blankets and pillows. An unwavering grip refusing to submit to those demands. Thus nature had to find its own way to subsist off a drought.

The heat hazed over his mind, conjuring up fantasies to appease the ever-unsettled water from its vapid reality.

“Neuvillette?” A soft voice calls out.

Just like now. Desire fogs up his senses to create a delusion, mimicking the way your warm voice beckons him. It’s nothing but a figment of his depraved lust.

“Neuvillette?”

He buries his ears further into the down covers to block the alluring mirages. Tickling him to submit to the temptation. But he mustn’t. Nothing more than a manifestation of lust.

The phantom donning your sweet voice calls out for him, and gentle touches send shivers through his nerves. Ah, he must vanquish this mirage before the fraying line of his self-restraint splinters apart.

Nothing but smoke and mirrors conjured by desire, a rigid arm expels out from the covers to dissipate the siren’s lure.

However, it wraps around something warm, a heat which his fever wails for. Intrinsically his shivering body covets that warmth, to be buried flush against the source so that this chill may finally stop its torment.

So like any greedy dragon, his claws enclose around temptation and drag it into his decrepit cave of blankets and sheets.

A satisfied purr judders through his stalwart body, a warmth which could finally reach his very bones. Thus, he burrows his face deeper into the shoulder of this phantom, a lovely aroma beckoning him to pull their soft body closer.

“Neuvillette?…”

His eyes snap open, realization flooding through him just as the chill that had been ingrained into his bones. This wasn’t an illusion. You weren’t an illusion.

He tears himself away, just as a moth does once they realize a hypnotic flame had set their wings alight. Trembly arms firmly planted on either side of your body, snowy locks falling onto your face.

“Are you alright?...” The sapphire luminance of his elongated horns shines across those sinless eyes.

The strap of a nightgown halfway down your shoulder from when he snatched you beneath his savage form.

“You… you shouldn’t be here,” he breathes, voice unsteady and taut.

“You’ve been away for an awfully long time… I-” Your eyes were blown wide and lips pressed together, aghast gaze not daring to glance down at the raging rigidness pressed against the silk of your nightgown.

Frenzied shivers of pleasure jostles through his veins, tremors racking his body all the way to the tips of his horns. In desperation his rigidnesses pleaded to feel you, throbbing so painfully a hiss leaves his lips.

“You need to leave, quickly please.” Leave before he traps you again.

Before this pathetic excuse of a sovereign loses against himself, before he makes a fool of himself. Neuvillette tries to pull away, against the weeping wishes of his erections. Face too ashamed to even look at you, but a pair of tender hands guides his cheeks back.

“...But I missed you…” You whisper.

Why are your hands embracing his face in this unsightly state? Are they not appalled by the patches of scales littered across them? Like a flame reaching out towards a moth.

“Leave, please.” Don’t tempt him like this.

“... Don’t you miss me?...” Your hold doesn’t budge.

Why do you look at him like that? Irises filled with warmth as his image is reflected in the flickering candlelight. Gazing wholly up at him. A cerulean glow tinting your hair and supple body.

“Don’t…” He reasons, the last of his sensibility crying a warning of a sinful fruit.

“Please, Neuvillette… won’t you hold me for just a bit? I missed you so much….” The shift of your shoulder causes the nightgown to slip further off your shoulder.

Don’t call out to him like that. No, not as your bewitching body was so close to his. The glow of a candle illuminating the curve of your cheeks, disheveled hair framing your wide eyes.

Don’t show him such a sight, for he’ll salivate to devour you until his teeth rot.

“Please?...” Coaxing his head down so that his forehead rests against yours.

Your warmth, your soft touches, and your delectable aroma, they parch his throat so much it pained him. Just as painful as attempting to swallow down sand from a hellish desert, it aches and lacerates his throat.

And here you were offering a lustrous fruit, so juicy and filled of sin, in front of his famished eyes. A cruel, cruel mercy.

“... May…May I?” It’s unbearable, this parchedness in his throat, would you be so kind to quench it?

Your sweet hum grants him permission. Eyes closed just as you turn a blind eye to his ravenousness, still stroking his tender cheeks. Neuvillette couldn’t deny himself any more of the warmth he’s coveted for oh so long.

Thus, he delves head-first into the glimmer of that enchanting flame. Burying his nose into the crook of your neck, so vulnerable and complacent, to hoard your bewitching fragrance all for himself. His skin flushed against yours as his bones delight in your heat.

The reigns of self-respect slip out from his hands as they let go in favor of running along your curves and edges. Each feature, your shoulders, and hips, aligns with details he’s long ingrained into his memory.

His fervor touches pushing down the silk fabric which dare disturb his worship. Nevuillette cants his head up momentarily, puffs of smothering breaths clouding the frosty air.

Lilac eyes drink up how the chilly air made your delectable breast perky, trailing down the goosebumps lining your torso, and landing on your exposed thighs.

A dryness itches in his throat as callused hands bite into the tender skin and he parts those placid legs away.

Oh, how could one ever take their eyes off that shiny, succulent fruit held out so openly in the hands of the tempter of all tempters?

They reveal to him the oasis he’d been hallucinating these grueling weeks. The tip of a serpentine tongue slips across his parched lips.

Since you so brazenly offered your body up to him, you wouldn’t have any objects against him finally getting a taste, right?

His foreboding figure traverses downwards until his delirious face is right between the cusp of his salvation and demise.

Dilated pupils peering up at you for approval, an invocation for clemency from this drought. A merciful hand graces his cheeks once more, granting him his salvation and demise.

His tongue escapes past his parched lips, as lengthy as it was insatiable, it licks a slow and passionate strip up your slit. A taste he once would only recount in the depths of his recollections.

Does this new body of yours still have the same weaknesses? Will you still writhe in madness if he sucks on that delectable little nub? Or how about those hidden points concealed deep within?

Could this tongue of his bring you past the brink of insanity in this life as well?

There was only one way for Neuvillette to grasp the answers he sought. A long tongue slips past the entrance of your satin walls, welcomed with a lewd squelch.

Grip parting your legs from his path further. Those quivering calls of ‘Neuvillette’and the pawing of your small hands against his head beckon him deeper.

Ah, redemption, it’s far too late for him now. For Nevillette has taken a bite out from that forbidden fruit, the evidence of it was dripping down his chin.

Ah, these slick velvety walls, he missed them. They clamp down with such ferocity along this beastly tongue, extensive enough to reach the deepest cavern of you.

A divine nectar begins to pool, Neuvillette retracts his tongue just enough for the heavenly taste to slide down his throat. Your sweet musk sends his olfactory system into chaos, rampant tongue returning to ravish you.

Not one drop of restraint left within him. It’s beastly how he’s devouring you. His tongue craves more of the delicacy he’s denied himself these past years, a thirst no water could quench. Wet muscles sliding up the whole length of your slit in a meticulous long lap, his nose bumping into your clit.

Your mewls and sobs echo off the walls when he flicks his tongue over that sensitive nub. Your body jolts violently as the length of his tongue ventures into the honeypot, toes curling in the air, but his iron-clad grip doesn’t allow any room for escape.

Delicate fingers now entangled into his tussled locks, grasping onto illuminated horns. You were likely trying to find something to ground your dissipating sanity, how unfortunate that your actions only flamed the fires.

A guttural growl echoed. Tongue now plunging further, slithering back and forth along your walls. For being such a sweet sacrifice for him, he’ll give a reward. Slithering tongue making sure to drag against that spot he’s memorized.

Judging from how your feet were arching off the sheets, it seems this sinful detail of yours was repeated as well.

Your body writhes, no longer docile under the white searing pleasure frying the ends of every nerve within your being. Unrelenting rhythm slipping in and out of your convulsing walls, your body twitching and flailing in reaction.

Trying to find some way to handle this surcharge of sensations. Legs instinctively wanting to shut together as if to cease this turbulent sensation, unfortunately, your pitiful strength gave no resistance against his rigid hold.

He could feel your muscles begin to seize up, slick walls clamping harder on his writhing tongue. Was this foreign sensation too much for you already?

His long tongue explores every last crevice, tastebuds lapping against those weak spots deep within as his nose bumps and grinds against that lewd clit. This unsightly side of you.

There’s more fervor in the lashes of his tongue, slurping up the nectar trickling out your greed, mixing with his spit dripping down his chin.

Your legs trashing but unable to go anywhere in his unrelenting hold, only able to pull on his silky locks for dear life as sobs tumble out. A flood of arousal adds to the mess on his chin. One he gladly laps up.

Oh’s and ah’s were the only choked sounds your lips could make as your eyes rolled to the back of your scrambled mind.

Neuvillette still relishing in the elixir he’s denied himself for too long, not even the purest water could compare. Reveling in the taste until every last drip ran down his parched throat.

Pulling away, a trail connects his lips with your quivering folds. Callous hands dig further into your legs, making room for his body. Watching as the movements of your chest slowed, his brute figure engulfed your frame.

The ache was unbearable now, each impatient throb reprimanding him for delaying their greed. Neuvillette couldn’t deny their request any longer.

Back sitting up straight, his cocks thrumming against his abdomen, precum exuding out from their swollen heads.

The cool air did little to calm the throbs of his fervors, the girthy shaft standing tall as its engorged tip weeped precum, its twin weeping just the same.

They hover over the softness of your belly, sharp pupils trail up the shadow they cast, heralding to where they crave to be buried.

The heat of his body was suffocating, the burn in his throat greater than ever before. But why? He had drank from that forbidden oasis, it’s dripping down his chin, yet why has his thirst grown greater than before?

Neuvillette was so… so close. If he had only endured it for another day or two, the gale within him would’ve relented and retreated away in defeat. But oh how viciously it’s gloating in its victory. Getting a dragon to bow his head to its cardinal blows.

“Do you… feel better now, Neuvillette?” Slow pants leave your curled lips as your hands reach up to caress his taut face.

This brazenness, this shamelessness, this insolence. Ah, these characteristics have followed you through the grave and into this life as well. You weren’t skilled enough this time around to hide your desire glazed across your pupils.

Did you do this in hopes of making him indebted to you? Offer your sweet body in return for stealing his name from his locked lips? Was this why you traversed down to this dark cellar so late in such flimsy silks?

That gleam in those deceptive eyes, the audacity to believe you could tame the sea with just a flick of your finger. You devious temptress.

“Better?… you’ve only fanned the flames, you devious woman.” A snarl from the depths of him.

Before another word could leave your lips one torrid hand pins your wrist to the sheets. Nails much too sharp to be human dig into those fickle and troublesome fabrics hiding your skin from his touch.

An all too satisfying rip resounding through the air along with your yelp. Scraps join the tangle of sheets.

Did his mortal prison deceive you too much? Did his mild mannerisms trick you into believing that he’s a merciful soul? Or did you always ignore the warnings?

A monster with a human face is still a monster. To believe that one’s patience is endless, only a human could be this impertinent.

His other vascular hand slides down the curves of your body, settling on your hip as your legs hook behind his firm thighs. The ridges of his lower cock drag against your slick folds, wetting his girth from its leaking tip sliding down against your swollen clit.

Precum mixes with the concoction as the glossiness spreads about his length. A pair of shaky breaths mingle as Neuvillette positions his engorged tip at your dripping entrance.

The sensation must’ve cleared the daze from your mind, your head cants downwards to stare at the two oddities.

“A-are both of them going to…” Your grip tightens on the sheets, a subconscious search for comfort.

Ah, now you remember danger. Now you realize your insolence to believe that a mere human could ever tame a proud dragon.

“There won’t be any point in breaking you so quickly,” he snarls. Not missing the flutter of your hole as the weeping head dragged over it. It wouldn’t be good to break you so quickly. His sweet little sacrifice.

Taking the erection which hung lower, he rubs its flushed tip along your slit. Each flinch and tremble sparked gratification through his veins.

The lashes of his tongue had aided in the preparation of these sinful walls, but the girth of his beastly tongue could not compare to the thickness pressed against these leaking folds.

The ghost of his breath flutters over your prickling skin. Neuvillette takes deeper breaths as the weight pressed against your core grew, the bulbous tip inching past the puckering entrance.

The stretch was maddening despite the restrained pace. Your walls fluctuate in a surging dance between clamping down and trying to remain relaxed.

As Neuvillette sinks his girth in bit by bit, its envious twin slithers against your aching clit. The sensitive bundle of nerves drags against each ridge and vein, sending jolts of searing pleasure through him and causing your satin walls to flutter.

A velvety sack kisses against your slick folds, signaling that his length has reached its end. The fat tip of its twin resting just above your naval indicated just how deeply he was buried, trapped between your soft flesh and his sculpted body.

It’s crowded inside you, girth parting and stretching these satin walls while the length is pressed against the deepest most intimate part of you.

Forcing delectable little whimpers and gasps from your haughty lips. Quivering legs now locking ankles behind his back, like a pitiable attempt to hamper him.

That arrogance disgraced to nothing but obscenity upon a wanton face. To see the devil so helpless and lewd under the manipulation of a dragon. What a wonderful sight.

Surely your body remembers his. If not, then he’ll ensure it does now, he’ll engrain it into you for the next life.

One cock slid against the satin ridges of your walls, the other indulging along your searing skin and grinding against your clit. He can’t deny how addictive your body always has been.

Dragging as far back as your locked legs would allow him, the flushed head of one dick kisses your twitching clit, and he sinks back in.

Grunts and purrs reverberate through his throat, teeth clenching as your heat engulfs him again. Reaching deeper into your welcoming core as your lips fall open.

His pace is methodical and controlled to his liking. Drawing out his cock inch by thick inch, sloppy trails of arousal caught on each ridge.

Each time making your core empty and yearning to clench around his girth. Just as a whine would leave your drooling lips, his hips would return to you what your core longed for.

Pushing each tantalizing inch to stroke your starved walls until his skin claps against yours with a wet kiss. Back and forth, back and forth the resounding slaps echoed. Mingling with his low groans and your pitched gasps, creating a sacrilegious yet divine hymn.

Your hand rakes deeper into his toned back possessed by desperation.

A few snowy strands are trapped between your writhing fingers. Pulling him closer to your smoldering skin, causing your clit to grind intensely against his swollen cock, as its twin twitches within your velvety folds.

Those babbles falling from your fed lips, were they pleas for him to bestow upon you leniency or begging him to speed up?

“Do you wish to climax?” A polite façade purrs into your ear.

Lilac eyes were not ignorant to how a devil keens under his body, her gaze drunk off a feverish potion of lust and desire. He could feel it, these velvet walls aching for more, for his girth to jostle your core more, to extinguish this all-consuming ache within you.

“That’s too bad.”

His hips remain steady contrasting against the unevenness of your own pants, unaffected by your desperate mewls. You’ve been selfish enough, you’ve been greedy enough. If he were to grant you a taste of ecstasy, then it’ll be on his terms.

He hasn’t gotten his fill yet, no, he wants to pound his shape forever into these lewd walls. The way they contract and squeeze around his girth with each drive of his hips, they’re practically begging him to.

Thus, he accelerates just a bit more, then a bit more, then a bit more again. Nearly folding you with how flushed he was against you.

The heavy scent of lust, the smothering heat, his unrelenting and unshakable thrusts amalgamating into a spark. One which set the both of you ablaze. Your nails digging into his skin and eyes reaching the back of your head. Sobs and incoherent prattles resound through the room.

Your devious walls clamped around his length with maddening convulsions, gummy muscles suckling to guide his throbbing head to your deepest greed. It was too much.

Neuvillette was powerless as his body pressed yours deeper into the damp sheets, trying to grasp onto any fleeting wisps of control as euphoria overtook him.

Sinking his ravenous teeth into the tangle of the sheets beside your neck, he stifles the admission of his defeat.

A heftiness is spilled within your walls and paints the expanse of your skin in an all-consuming wave. Thick release coating every corner of your core, to finally quell that ravaging heat.

Each subsequent twitch pours more into your crowded cavity and stains your skin. The filthiness of it all seemingly prolongs your sinful depravity.

Chest expanding with pants, pressing your erected nipples against his taut chest. Neuvillette remains buried against you, brutish arms holding your body flush against his.

As if to anchor you, to not allow the turbulent waves of madness to sweep you far from him, or him from you. Keeping your quiver body safe against his.

In the darkness behind his shut lashes, he felt it. Your soft caresses his silky tresses and heaving body. Even as your body heaves and quivers in exhaustion, why must you touch him so tenderly?

Why must you be so cruel? If your hands keep caressing his clammy skin, stroking his peeking scales, he’ll misunderstand.

He’ll believe the delusion that you love him.

Him and not the swaying flower fields of the sunkissed surface.

Whispers cut through the haze of lust and passion, warnings crying for Neuvillette to escape. So he pulls his face from the tangle of sheets, lungs huffing as his eyes find yours.

Exhaustion muddles the hues of your gaze, but not enough to completely smother that glimmer still present. Ah, he knows that that glimmer was.

Even in his heat-induced daze, he’s not naive enough to believe the sincerity presented in your eyes was anything other than duty.

He doesn’t want to be reminded that those hands, which cup his face with such tenderness, are bound by a sense of duty.

A reminder that he’s merely just a stepping stone on the path of your true desire.

He doesn’t want to see it.

The head of his cock parting with a deafening squelch. A darkened gaze follows the pool forming between your splayed legs. Disgruntlement muddles lilac hues.

But such discontent couldn’t last long when the twitch of a neglected length protests. Its bulbous tip longed for its turn within those sticky walls. A primal ordinance he couldn’t resist.

What to call this sensation, to scorn yet desire you just as much.

It wasn’t long before your hips were maneuvered up, your plush ass now up in the air as your quivering arms and face pressed into the sullied sheets.

As one hand supports your unsteady hips. Sharp eyes surveying the puffiness of your cunt, glistening with temptation and dripping with sin.

Hooked fingers slides up the weeping slit, collecting the sacrilegious mixture. Earning an addictive whimper from you when his digits pulled away. Spreading them in front of his gaze, tracing over the stringy nectar stretched between them.

How strange, those lying lips of yours whimper for ‘rest’ and a ‘moment to catch your breath’. Yet your body is still so eagerly exposing itself to his eyes, agape cunt so eagerly twitching and slick.

You don’t even try to writhe yourself away from his hold, not even a single attempt to hide yourself from his hunger.

How skilled you are at fanning the flames, perhaps it's a talent inherent to devils like you. The tempter of all tempters.

You’ve always been like this since the very first rendition.

If only you weren’t so strong-willed. If only you weren’t so clever to trick him. If only you weren’t so enchanting.

Then he wouldn’t have bent to your whims, the sea would’ve cleansed out the mortal filth from stolen land. Then he wouldn’t be trapped in this disgrace of a body. Then he wouldn’t be in love with you.

The betrayal, the disgrace, and this punishment would’ve never happened if only a fool didn’t surrender everything for a mere, fleeting creature.

Why must you make him repeat the same mistake again?

There it was again, that surging torrent within him making its voice known in the echoes of his mind. Whispering the hint on how a dragon would defeat the flame that had scorched him those years ago.

Smother the flame with the tides of depravity and vulgarity. Taint your arrogance with shame.

There wasn’t an ounce of gentleness remaining within his eyes, a beastly hunger taking its place.

Yes, you must pay the debt of reducing him to such a humiliating state.

His neglected cock prods against that greedy cunt of yours. Unmerciful hands bruising the plushness of your hips.

The sinful concoction from the previous sessions allowed his tormented length into your walls without resistance.

The neglected cock finally indulging in the spasms of your abused walls, it’s its turn to bully those weak spots with its thick head.

Sobs sung in broken chokes leave your drooling lips. Trembling fingers enmeshed into the fabric as if to find some ground for your senses to land after their fall from euphoria.

He won’t allow you reprieve. No, not even for a moment. He’ll shatter your sanity and arrogance once and for all.

Nothing interrupted the pistoning of his hips as he fucked you through overstimulation, heavy balls slamming against your swollen lips.

The previous twin cock was now experiencing the hard nub of your engorged clit running along its veins and ridges.

There’s no room for an exchange of words. No, the two of you have long been pasted that point.

No sandy ground beneath as the two of you sank under the ravenous tides of primal instincts and pleasure.

Cacophonous growls, whimpers, and sobs filling the absence along with the thwacks of skin against skin echoed back from the cellar walls.

You keen under the ram of his hips, jostled head writhing against the soiled sheets. The motion allows your hair to fall over your shoulders.

Exposing an untainted patch of skin. Sharp pupils watching how beads of sweat trailing down your nape reflect the azure glow of his body.

An itch assailing his fangs even has his hips continue their barrage against your soft ass. Those lovely vulgar moans wane out from his hearing as his senses could only obsess over the untarnished expanse.

Ah, what if there’s a way for him to pin you here until the stars themselves burn out? You were given to him as his bride.

An offering made to him.

So why can’t he forever confine you within his clutches? Just as you were the original sin which damned him to this cove.

Long tongue dragging along the fresh skin, feeling the jolts of your body.

He’s done it once before, he’s cursed you before. Imprinting a curse upon your very soul, one which followed you through the hands of death and even when the hands of life reformed your body from the earth.

Why not renew it?

Neuvillette pins your upper body further into the tangled bedding, one hand abandoning your hips in favor of raveling in the mess of fabric.

Your heated skin felt against his exhilarated fangs, hungry to sink into your nape.

‘Till death do us part’, that’s not enough.

Such fleeting mortal oaths are much too meek for dragons.

No, those atrocious murmurs in his thoughts command him to curse you in the next life. And the next one, and the one after that as well.

It’s not like your muddled head would understand, nothing but mindless prattles and mewls from the suffocating pleasure only he could ever give you.

But that’s fine, just drown nicely in lust and desire. He’ll always be waiting there at the bottom to drag you down deeper.

Just as the tips of his pointed teeth broke through quivering skin, delicate fingers grasp upon a burly hand.

Intertwining their grasp together upon rumpled linen, a subconscious search for comfort.

An action that remits an iota of reason back to his foggy mind, hazy eyes moving toward the sight of your hand clutched around his.

Even as he’s ravishing your weeping walls, flooding your body with his filthy essence which trickles down your thighs and ass, and chasing his own carnal needs… you still reach for him.

Shamelessly pulling his touch closer, even when the throes of rapture banished all thought from your jostled mind.

A whisper resurfaces amidst the fog and clamor of instinct and rage.

However, it’s a whisper which made his incisors dare not budge another inch. The inkling of truth which he thought he had silenced within the depths of his heart.

The accuracy that this wasn’t love. No, what his instincts craved was not love, it was obsession.

For love was not this sadistic possession, not to curse you just to ease his own damnation.

No, love is supposed to be much like the warmth of your palm flushed against his knuckles.

He remembers now, the lesson you taught him all those years ago. A demonstration witnessed with his own eyes.

Love was sacrifice, just as how you offered yourself to the tides, quelling the rage of a vengeful dragon. Because you loved your village too much to allow them to drown.

Retreating away from the transgression almost committed, fangs repressed behind closed lips. Neuvillette presses a sweet kiss against the shallow wound.

To love you isn’t to steal you away from the embrace of the star who’s forsaken him. It’s to hoist you up to that beloved sunlight. Just where you belonged.

Oh, how could he not love you?

The bride offered to a dragon in a white dress who once dared to command the great beast to stand still as she braided flowers into his hair.

A brazenness contrasted with the gentleness of her smile.

The voices of heart and cruelty rang out in vociferous battle in his mind, Neuvillette buries his face into your shoulder. Pursuing the savor of your skin, pinning you deeper into the tangle of bedding.

Providing more simulation for the pulsing cock wedged against your swollen clit and messy sheets. The neediness of his movements exposed just how close his undoing was.

The hand on your abdomen pulled you impossibly close, adding pressure to the bulging outline of his cock.

Amplifying the ecstasy coursing through your veins, abused walls clamping down on each ridge and each vein of his heft girth. The shape engrained into your wanton core, marvelous sobs and mewls echoing off the empty walls.

Soon those moans become shattered in your throat, eyes rolling back further with each heavy thrust and slap of his balls. Lungs cease all function as rapture unravels you wholly and exhilaration becomes your undoing.

Sloppy contractions mix the repercussions of multitudinous ruination, dripping out your convulsing cunt. Just before a hot surge replenishes the brood that oozed out on the sullied sheets.

Grunts vibrate against your back reminding your body to breathe.

Thick ropes paint your belly and sheets, making an absolute mess. Contracting walls trying but failing to contain the aftershocks from his cock buried deep within, already stretched to their limits, capacity long exceeded. Shudders rack your body and his the same.

With hands still entangled, he coaxes your body around. Granting him a mesmerizing view of your debauched face.

The face he’s so enamored with that he bows his down closer, bodies still connected as he wishes to echt every last detail of you into his being. So that eternity may remember you.

Softness resurfaces in his bones, a tender kiss pressed upon your fingers. Soothing those tremors as he guides your consciousness back to reality.

He holds you, remaining inside as to contain his greed spilled deep inside. The heftiness of his cock prods against your shuddering walls. Every last fiber of your being overstimulated with pulsing pleasure.

Yet, your hand refused to let go. Still holding him toward your exhausted figure in the dying light of the candle.

Whimpers and coos exchanging in a duet of devotion, a hymn so placate it quells the vapid torrents ever so slightly.

Placid fingers drawing circles into your sore back. A gentle lilac gaze keeping watch as your teary eyes retire behind heavy lashes.

Blood and water no matter how much they’re mixed, won’t produce wine.

However, just for tonight in a realm heavy with lust, passion, and phantasm, they’ll craft a wine of delusion. One filled with nothing but wishful fantasy.

However, this wine of delusion shall be enough to quench the thirst of lascivious compulsions and vengeance.

The gentle caresses of steam ghost past your leaden lashes, lukewarm ripples lap against your skin. Your sore body propped up against the porcelain, as Neuvillette drags a dampened towel along your skin.

A pang of guilt stung him each time the cloth passed over a discolored imprint. No amount of diligent rubs would purify your skin of those bruises in the shape of his fingers.

A stir from muscle gradually awakening from slumber reflected in the wavelets of the bath. The sensation of a damp towel must’ve further jolted your senses back to alertness.

A cerulean glow glistens off the polished surface as your vision finally centers on the figure rising warm water over your limp body.

Attentive eyes immediately connect with yours as he scans your expression for discomfort.

“Are you hurting anywhere?” Neuvillette halts the towel.

You respond with a slow shake, your throat must be too sore to answer. Despite how he tries to conceal them behind a robe, blotches of azure painted along his fair skin.

Proof that draconic influence was still in rebellion of his body. All the while he’s very much aware of your eye’s every move. What an appalling sight it must be for you.

“If I make you uncomfortable I’ll leave promptly, this was just the only solution I could find to bathe-”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” Voice hoarse as your frame melts closer to his, delicate fingers intertwining with between the spaces of his own scaly fingers.

Allowing your breaths to minge in tandem in the steam-damped tiles of the tranquil bathroom.

“Does it hurt?” A warm thumb traces soft circles along the rough scales along his hand.

Did you catch the subtle twitches and jolts of his muscles? A mortal body rejecting draconic influences, draconic influences revolting against a mortal cage. Still, he shakes his head. Lilac gaze watching your eyes trail between the scales and his eyes with skepticism.

“I’m not quite sure as to why I’m still in this… state.” Neuvillette gives a preemptive answer to the question he assumes to be hanging off your tongue.

“Do you… miss the sea?” However, it seems you had another inquiry hidden in your ever perplexing mind.

A deep sigh resonates through the tranquil air. He stares at the tips of his fingers dipped into the warm water, a taunting substitute for the sea that called for him.

“I suppose it’s natural that I yearn for it…”

A hum was your only response, eyes hidden behind closed lashes. Neuvillette just couldn’t decipher that smile of yours, curled lips reflected over the rippling surface of the steaming water.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Your body is still delicate, please let us return back to the estate-”

“I might actually grow roots into that bed if I’m to rest there any longer.” A pout was evident in your voice.

Taking a few greater strides, your body pulls in front of Neuvillette’s pace. It was only momentary of course, for he swiftly rejoins your side.

Observant eyes not missing the subtle wobble in your steps along the pastures of the village.

“Please just don’t stray too far.” He relents, offering up his arm for support.

With a gracious smile, your arm curls around his, interlocking your fingers with his as two pairs of steps ambled along the grass.

Soon a familiar pool of water came into view, enticing two pairs of eyes with its glimmering ripples.

What it strange sight those waters showed, a cursed dragon who yearned for his place and a cursed mortal who longed for the sun, two cursed beings holding hands in the reflection along the pristine surface.

“I believe this is far enough. ” His arm pulls your frame closer, a subtle hesitance tainting his tone.

However, your body didn’t budge. Resolute stance not moving even one bit watching your reflection warp and contort in the water. A deep breath echoes off the wall.

“Neuvillette… do you miss the sea?” Your stare parts with the water, now peering straight into his lilac hues.

‘Do you miss the sea?’ You’ve asked him this question many times. He's always given a composite response, but maybe his flowery words diluted the meaning too much to your ears.

“Yes, I do miss the sea.” His candid yearning.

There was a question his lips didn’t dare ask, ‘Do you miss the sun?’, Neuvillette wanted to riposte your questions with this question of his.

But he knew it would be pointless, for he already knew the answer. Wordlessly written all over your melancholic stare into the pond, the longing to return to the sun, to be with blood and not water.

To love you, would be to hoist you up to where you longed to be, in the embrace of the warm sun. Neuvillette had thought he made up his resolve long ago.

However, would it be too selfish of him to wish to turn back?

To convince you to back into the tranquil estate where the Melusines await your return with those dishes you taught them how to cook.

Or maybe would at least try on those gowns still untouched? Could you wait until all those books in the library were read through by your sweet voice?

Would you be oh so kind enough to hold his hand just for a moment longer? At the very least, would you allow him to memorize your warmth?

His grip on your hands tightens ever so briefly, a shaky breath trembles in his chest before he releases it along with the tension in his fingers.

No, it wouldn’t be fair to stall any longer, you deserve your happy ending.

Calmly, the dragon bows his head closer to yours. Ignoring the aggrieved voices that cried for him to swallow back to secret just about to spill from his tongue.

The ending of this tale won’t ever change, for a dragon is just as foolish as he was before.

“My true name is-!” His voice was stunned as a pair of soft lips silenced him.

Your lips pressed against his own, forcing back the secret. His bewildered eyes hone in upon your face, but your lashes were shut as your hands pull his face closer. The resolve wanes from his bones as he sinks into your embrace.

As your lips pull away, gasping for breath. He places his hands atop yours, searching your face for an answer. All he got was that indecipherable smile.

Pulling his face down closer to yours again, your lips find themselves right next to his pointed ears. Under a faint breath which left your parted lips came the secret he kept locked away.

Since when? When did you find his name? Or… did you know this whole time?

Neuvillette reels back in the embrace of your cruel hands. Lilac eyes stare deep into yours, peering through the cracks in that enchanting façade of yours.

Ah, this whole time, did he not discover the false innocence in the irises of the deceptor of all deceptors?

A foolish moth fell for the deception of a devil once again, flying to the flicker of a candle until his wings were charred off into ash.

Those sentences written upon parchment weren’t lies, all other monsters fall secondary to the devil. Even a dragon.

“Why?” Was all he could muster, oh cruel devil why did you play him a fool once more?

“Because I wanted to see you again… but I knew you wouldn’t quite share the same sentiment since the moment I heard your voice… so I lied,” Those audacious eyes of yours never looked away.

Ah, how could he forget how crafty and observant a devil is with her schemes? The charming enchantment as she performs her deceptions. Speaking shameless lies with those bewitching lips.

“If you wanted to see me… then that day at the loch… why weren’t you there?” The stir of the torrent within put a snarl into his throat.

Why must you keep lying to him?

Ah, from the start, Neuvillette should’ve listened to the clamorous cries of his instincts. To withdraw away from the flame, to extinguish the hell fires before they left another lesson learned upon his skin.

Yet, he’s still within the embrace of your cruel hands. His body just wouldn’t pull away.

Just what is this level of stupidity called? For a moth to still crave the warmth of the flame which charred its wings into ash. Just what is this lunacy called?

“The nobles locked me away after those tyrants stole your name from my tongue, they locked me away.” Torment brewing in those irises which reflected him.

A chill staggers the surge of the torrent, an icy sting which stupefied the rampaging currents.

For generations upon generations of scribes and poets never penned this detail down in any rendition of a classically beloved tale.

“I begged them, I banged against the bars of the cell, even clawed at the stone walls until my fingers were raw, but they left me there to rot in the cold… I just wanted to see you one last time, just once more.” Those bitter pools formed in your penitent eyes spill over.

This wasn’t how the tale was supposed to end. The maiden, who deceived a dragon for her people, was supposed to be hailed a hero. You were supposed to have a happy ending, so why didn't you get that?

“All I ever wanted was for you and me to walk amongst humanity… look where that got us…” Tears descend from your cheeks and onto the grass below, a humorless chuckle.

Was this another lie falling from those saccharine lips of yours? Sugar dusted on the shell of a vile trick? Neuvillette wasn’t sure anymore.

“That foolish wish of mine… it must’ve been so painful. I’m so sorry.” Your thumb traces over the scales dotted over his cheek, evidence of a draconic rebellion against a mortal condemnation.

Does your touch scorn or soothe him? Neuvillette wasn’t sure anymore.

“I’m sorry. I’ll say sorry one thousand times if you wish.” A tremor in your voice.

The surge within him couldn’t sustain itself, faltering and receding back to a placid, pathetic ripple. Perhaps… It's tired.

Tired of holding onto this futile grudge. Not when the bitter answers its tides were ravenous for had finally sunk in.

He takes a deep breath, collecting his resolve.

“...what… what do you wish for?” Just how will this rendition end? Neuvillette doesn’t know.

But he knows his hands should hold onto yours, desperately etching the details of your tender touch into its memory. Rations to sustain him for the rest of a solitary eternity.

He hears your slow inhale, preparing your throat to speak your selfish desires.

“I wish for your curses to become mine alone to bear.” You reveal your selfish wish, pressing the voucher of freedom into his hands.

He had that look on his face again. Disbelief stupefied each muscle of his dashing face, wide eyes peering into yours trying to find the hint of a jest. Your gaze doesn’t waiver as your finger tightens around his.

“Grant me my wish… please.” Lips stretching with a reassuring smile.

His lips press into a thin line, face returning to its place between your warm hands, he takes a deep breath. Perhaps it’s just his sense of responsibility and fairness that compelled him to fulfill this wish.

Or maybe, the dragon just couldn’t help but submit to the whims of his beloved, a statement that remained no matter what rendition of the tale it was.

Releasing the breath he held, the shift in the air was palpable, a lightness in his chest. The pond off to the side billows momentarily, drawing focus toward its excited ripples.

Releasing his hold, feet leading him to the side of the saltwater before his mind could process his own actions.

He could hear it again, the hymns of the water singing the end of his exile. Reaching out a hand, it sinks past the cool surface, the tides welcoming back their prince with mellow kisses.

The ocean calls for him, so why is he still staring back at you? The one who’ll never embrace the sea again for the rest of her life, nor ever feel the sway of Summer days in a field full of Pluie Lotus. His eyes conveyed a question his lips couldn’t bear to ask. Thus, you give the answer he seeks.

“Think of it as my reparations to you, an overdue apology for my mistake, for making you to suffer so much.” That glimmer in your eyes, one he understands now.

Moving the hex to a body whose true master was the mistress of time, a body blessed with mortality. If a miracle isn’t enough to make a curse break, then perhaps the tides of time could.

Taking a piece of the curse with each tick of a clock, just like how the waves take with it grains of sand from warm beaches.

Once a withered mortal body is called back to the earth, the clauses will be fulfilled after many centuries. Unsettled grudges eroded away like those sandy banks.

Until the pull of the ground makes its visible influence on your skin. Until your locks come to resemble the snowy shade you’ve lovingly run your fingers through. Until the sweet earth hums for you to embrace it once more, you shall remain here.

What a clever scheme it all is, a masterful plan which could only ever be conjured by you. You devil, oh so devious, devil.

“You can hate me, I won't hold it against you,” you whisper. “May this tale end in your happiness, let me do this much for you.”

A bitter bile festers at those lies of yours. How could such lies fall from your lips so easily when they always left such a vile taste upon his tongue?

Gaze honed in upon your frame, watching the gentle smile hold back the slight quiver of your shoulders. He stands back up, slow strides returning him to your side. Taking your hands into his larger ones, placing your soft touch back along his cheeks.

“Silence… I won’t hear such deceit.” Snowy locks brushing against your fingertips.

“But I wasn’t lying…” Confusion furrows your brow, but your hands remain cupping his face.

Moving away, he studies the rivulets of regret and anguish that leave bitter trails down your cheeks. He swallows back the objections clawing up his throat, such vile words don’t belong on your tongue.

“How could I hate you?” he confesses.

Neuvillette has finally come to a realization. All those renditions, all those differing retellings of a classic tale. He had read them all wrong, basis clouding his interpretation.

For the princess did love her dragon. Just as he loved her, all this time.

Together in the depths of a cave away from the prying eyes of the divine. Breaths in time with one another as they stand in the embrace of one another, until the dragon bows his head back down.

Touching his forehead to hers, so that maybe Neuvillette could get a glimpse into that ever mystical mind of yours.

“How can I ever hate what I’ve coveted for so long?” He asks.

That ever-stirring torrent, that spiteful surge, where did it go? Those clamorous voices with their vengeful snarls and cynical bellows, why weren’t they intrepid enough to direct those foul words toward you?

Not you, never you. How could they ever hate you, the heroine of a Fontainian fairytale they’ve pitifully yearned for so long?

“Am… am I loved then?” Your lashes were squeezed shut as if death was rapping upon them. Too cowardly to face the verdict.

“Yes… yes, you devious devil…” Neuvillette couldn’t help but chuckle at such an endearing sight.

He feels your fingers tense around his skin, astonishment in the features of your face. It soon melts away into those welling pools as a smile pushes against the corners of your eyes.

Pressing your forehead to his, a warm droplet rolls down your cheek and over the curve of your lips. He simply rests his head against yours.

Only now in the last sentence of this retelling of a tale which has been twisted, distorted, and embellished away from the initial narrative did an unwritten truth emerge.

A clever maiden was just as foolish as a proud dragon. The weight of their foolishness was so great it dragged them beneath the waves and kept them in a cove deep away from the prying eyes of gods.

However, if this idiotic dragon could intertwine his fingers with yours. If he could be by your side until the hands of time call you back to the earth in this final rendition.

If he could be the happy ending you deserved, then he wouldn’t mind in the slightest.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

#neuvillette x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #vivalabunbunfics #genshin impact x you #genshin smut #neuvillette smut #neuvillette angst #neuvillette fluff #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x you #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin x you #neuvillete x reader

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kitten4sannie · 9 months ago

Text

ɪɴᴅᴜꜱᴛʀʏ ʙᴀʙʏ

ᴄᴜᴄᴋᴏʟᴅ/ᴄᴜᴍ ᴘʟᴀʏ ➠ ᴍɪɴɢɪ/ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ

pairing: singer/rapper bf! mingi x fem! reader x guitarist! hongjoong

genre: band au, smut

summary: your bf’s band has such a good set, that he doesn’t mind sharing you with the handsy guitarist. anything for his baby. he just wants to assess the damage afterwards.

w.c: 3.2k

warnings: open relationship, mentioned alcohol/drugs use, dom! mingi/hongjoong, joongie’s got a tongue piercing ^^, sub! reader, so muchhh cucky behavior, mxm if you squint, teasing, perversion, dirty talk, degradation, pet names, fingering, oral (receiving), voyeurism/exhibitionism, unprotected rough sex, actual phone sex, creampie, two seconds of cockwarming, cum eating, more oral and fingering, some clit nibbling, squirting

a/n: urgghh im obsessed with tunnel and mingi and hongjoong’s guitar solo and just minjoong in general hhhhhnn also idkw happened but hongjoong is giving me more and more brainworms these days and i just i’m uhhhhh 🧎🏻‍♀️so yeah please enjoy whatever this is <33

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ᴅɪɢɪᴛᴀʟ ʙᴀᴛʜ ʙʏ ᴅᴇꜰᴛᴏɴᴇꜱ

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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

You were always full of nerves before your boyfriend’s band went on, especially when the previous band was finishing up their encore. Hanging out backstage was always hectic too, the venue’s employees running around like headless chickens in pursuit of completing the latest task their manager gave them, members of other bands and their entourages engaging in boisterous conversations, drinking, and doing drugs amongst themselves, their actions up to par with the touring lifestyle. It wasn’t until you ran into the guitarist of your boyfriend’s band, Hongjoong, that your nerves doubled, but for a different reason.

“Y/N, there you are. Where have you been, huh?” Hongjoong greeted you with a hug, resting his solo cup against your lower back, his free hand moving down to your ass, squeezing it a few times through your skirt, sighing against your skin, his body relaxing against yours. “I missed my stress toy…”

“Joong,” you whined, pushing gently at his leather bound chest, your hand almost getting tangled in one of his silver chained necklaces. “You always get so grabby before a show. What if Mingi sees?”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, leaning his face into your neck, alcohol on his breath. “You know he wants to see it. And it’s not my fault I can't keep my hands off you. Just look at you…” The buzzed guitarist gazed down at your body with hooded eyes, his jaw tightening up more and more the longer he pictured what you looked like folded up for him and taking everything he had to give. “You’d look so good underneath me, baby. Spread open all nice and wide…fuck….”

“Joongie, please…” you whispered, squeezing your thighs together, pressing your back into the concrete wall behind you, feeling him press further into you as a result.

“You can beg for me after the show, sweetheart. Just let me get a peek, okay?” Knowing he had you right where he wanted you, Hongjoong slowly ran a calloused finger along your jaw, down your neck to your rising chest, pleased with the way your breath hitched, his dark eyes flitting between your gaze and the slope of your bare tits through your thin white tank top, unable to resist pulling down the neckline of your top until he had a good view of your pebbled nipples. “Look at that. You’re just aching to be touched, aren’t you?”

You were so wet, you could’ve sworn that you were about to drip all over the backstage floor, barely able to form any coherent words besides a small ‘yeah’, letting the perverted guitarist grab at your hips, his fingers pressing into your hip bones, a low groan leaving his lips.

“Wanna fuck you, baby, wanna make you mine,” Hongjoong sighed into your ear, about to describe his needs in detail and put his hands all over you when Mingi came around the corner, a lollipop poking through his cheek, his ringed fingers rubbing at the mascara near his lash line.

Mingi stopped in his tracks, towering over the both of you due to the studded boots he always wore during his shows. He studied you, noticing how flushed you were and how hard you were already breathing. He couldn’t help but to pull his sweet lollipop out to bite at his plump lip, his cock ready to come to life. “Oh? What’s this about, sugar?”

“Babyy, there you are,” you greeted, bouncing on your heels, making grabby hands at your boyfriend.

In return, Mingi lifted you up and spun you around in a tight hug, making sure to press a kiss to your cheek before putting you back down in front of his favorite bandmate.

“Joongie’s being all needy again,” you giggled, leaning back against Hongjoong’s chest.

“Can’t help it.” Hongjoong casually handed his drink to Mingi who took it and knocked it back, wrapping his arms around you from behind, leaning his head on your shoulder, a sickening smirk gracing his feline-like lips. “Hey, Minnie. Wanna make a bet?”

“What kind of bet?” Mingi licked at the corner of his salivating mouth, pulling at the crotch of his heavy, chained pants, his cock pressed against one of his thighs, growing harder just from seeing the way you fit perfectly inside his bandmate’s arms. Shit.

“If I nail my guitar solo tonight, will you let me have Y/N for a night?” Hongjoong requested, nuzzling his face against your heated cheek, making a small pouty face at his dear bandmate.

Mingi knew he shouldn’t be getting this worked up before a show, but it might make him perform better if he was thinking about how bad he wanted you, and how he couldn’t have you until Hongjoong did. He knew the odds of Hongjoong hitting every single note perfectly was a 50/50 chance. His chances were even lower if he had access to a bottle of jack that night, though Mingi was aware that his bandmate was quite skilled with his calloused fingers, only knowing because you wouldn’t shut up about it a few nights ago.

The lead singer decided he would push all his chips onto the table, knowing he would have his darling to himself either way. You belonged to him, whether you were filled with another man’s load or not. “Sure, as long as you make sure my baby cums.” He sent a charming smile your way, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek, chuckling softly when you pressed a kiss to the side of his thumb, your lips making contact with the cold metal of his large skull ring.

“Hear that, princess? Min wants me to have you,” Hongjoong purred into your ear from the other side. “And so do you, huh? Is that cunt of yours dripping already? I think we should have a litle peek...” Knowing all three of you would enjoy it, the guitarist snaked his hands around your waist from behind, lifting your skirt up for only Mingi to see, rubbing his rough fingers along your bare cunt.

“I-i heard,” you gasped, grasping at Mingi’s oversized sweater, your fingers going into one of the torn holes it had, leaning your head back against Hongjoong’s shoulder, trying not to make any noise when Mingi joined in, slipping two of his fingers into your pulsing cunt, the feeling of his rings stretching you out further making you jolt.

“You know what I hear? How fucking wet you already are for us.” Hongjoong said into your ear, his digits rubbing roughly into your clit, his eyes on Mingi’s hooded ones, licking at his lips. “Your girlfriend is such a slut, Min. God, I love it.”

“She loves it too,” Mingi replied in a gravelly voice, stepping a little closer to cage you against Hongjoong, pushing the lollipop into your mouth to watch you suck on it. “But you still belong to me…Don’t you, baby?”

“Of course, Minnie. I’m only yours.” You nodded obediently up at him, crunching some of the lollipop in between your teeth when Mingi added another digit inside your tight hole, your thighs trembling slightly.

“That’s my girl.” Your boyfriend gave you a pretty smile, pressing his hand against the wall near your head to further display his dominance over you, his eyes fixed on your submissive gaze, and the way you just let him fill you up with his thick fingers, his bandmate’s fingers still working you clit like he would would a six string. “Fuck…you’re so sexy like this, baby…”

“Try not to blow your load before the show,” Hongjoong mused, his smirk growing more and more reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat’s. He was about to tease Mingi more when the previous band sang their last angsty lyric and shredded their remaining guitar notes, silence filling up the air for only a moment, before there was an immediate uproar of rowdy cheers and shouts from the pumped up crowd.

Your boyfriend’s band was up next and you couldn’t wait to watch them from the sidelines, ready to catch their occasional hungry glances, knowing they were ready to tear you apart once they finished their heavy, energy filled set.

Mingi delivered as usual, showing off his impressive duality, going from spitting quick, head-turning bars with a devilish smirk on his sweaty face, to expressing emotional, thought provoking lyrics with a soft, expressive voice that would have anyone shedding a tear, his face contorted in melancholic concentration, his hands wrapped tightly around his mic, his dominating stage presence alone having the entire venue in a chokehold throughout the entire set.

Hongjoong arguably delivered just as well, consistently shredding notes on his sleek guitar with a borderline psychotic look in his eyes and a heinous grin that would make the Devil himself blush, working his rough, agile fingers song after heavy song, never failing to provide Mingi with his own unique back-up vocals. And just like clockwork, despite being a bit tipsy and high on some kind of illegal drug, Hongjoong captivated the large audience with his infamous guitar solo, making everybody in the crowd cream themselves with his nasty riffs. All Hongjoong could do after was push back his sweaty hair and send Mingi a shit-eating smirk, that was returned with a soft chuckle and head shake. He made sure to give you a look too, though this time he had his fingers held up in a V, his pierced tongue sticking out in between them.

You were in for a busy night.

࿏࿏࿏

“Hey, eyes on me, baby…” Hongjoong commanded in a low whisper from below you, sitting comfortably on his knees, using his thumbs to keep your cunt spread open for him, watching you writhe around against the wall of the spacious hotel shower, beads of water dripping through his damp bangs and past his smudged eyeliner, pooling in the crevices of his collar bone, the rest trickling down along his dangling necklaces.

He had easily coaxed you inside his hotel room, not having to do much to get you in his shower, claiming he needed to cool down after giving it his all during the show — though he still made sure to give you his all during your own private show, using his calloused, dexterous fingers to play with your body, delighted with the pretty, wanton sounds he created, wanting nothing more than to write a song about how delicious you looked in that moment — flushed, transfixed on his pierced tongue lapping at your throbbing clit, and moaning out the little pet name you gave him.

“That’s it….” The side of his lips quirked up a bit at the pout you gave him, before he pursed them and sent a wad of spit directly into you, pushing two fingers back inside you to rub it around your tight, pulsing walls. “I love when you look at me like that.”

“Like what, Joong?” you breathed out, running your fingers through his wet hair, gripping the sides of his head, your thighs beginning to feel like jelly from the way Hongjoong was finger-fucking you into ecstasy.

“Like you want my cock,” he sighed, unable to keep himself from diving back into your cunt, lapping at your clit and slit like a pussydrunk maniac, easily slipping a third finger inside you.

“I do…! I need your cock, Joongie, please,” you moaned out, so close to your high that you began to push his face into your cunt, rubbing it against his moving tongue, his piercing repeatedly catching on your clit, driving more pleasured moans out of you, neither of you aware in that moment that your dear perverted boyfriend sat on the other side of the wall, standing fully clothed in his own shower and jerking himself off with fervid desperation, his jeans hanging loosely around his jolting hips.

“You’ll have it, baby, I promise. Cum on my tongue first,” he said with his lips against your soaked cunt, curling his fingers and rubbing at the gummy spot inside you, sending you over the edge, sticking his tongue out to catch your arousal on it, his cock throbbing at the sound of his name mixed with swears being cried out by his bandmate’s pretty girlfriend.

Soon, you grew docile and dazed, wrapping your limbs around him as soon as he stood up and carried you over to his bed, not wasting any time sending a few drops of spit down onto your hot cunt and plugging it up with his thick cock.

Mingi felt like he was going to melt, his brain and body going into overdrive over the fact that his beloved bandmate was busy putting a baby in his baby, making her feel so good she was starting to cry, his cock throbbing inside his closed fist, listening closely to the pants and moans that made their way into his pierced, attentive ears, along with the incessant creaking of the mattress springs — though the disruptive banging sounds of the wooden bedframe hitting the thin wall contended for Mingi’s attention as well.

“Joong..! It’s so good, you’re so good,” he heard you whine out in a broken voice, not hearing the rest of your cries due to Hongjoong stuffing two fingers into your willing mouth. Mingi couldn’t help but want to drown in his sin, pulling his phone out of his back pocket.

You looked to your phone with half-closed eyes, watching the way it buzzed against the moving mattress, your legs suddenly getting closer to your body, Hongjoong lifting your lower half up to fuck into you even deeper than before, rendering you speechless from the pressure of his heated body on yours.

“Answer it, baby,” Hongjoong huffed from above you, his necklaces dragging along your flushed skin with each sloppy thrust, blowing a bit of wet hair out of his half-lidded eyes.

“Mingi,” you sighed into the receiver, trying to catch your breath, knowing you were on the edge of ecstasy with the way your body was starting to feel heavy, despite the feeling like you were ready to float away. “I’m gonna cum, baby, it– aaah, oh my god…!”

“Cum for me, princess. Let me hear how pretty you sound cumming on his cock,” Mingi moaned back, squeezing his hand around his length, his eyes ready to roll underneath his eyelids.

Hongjoong put his entire body weight onto you, his lips sliding across your neck to leave a few marks, his cock throbbing against your tight inner walls, pounding into you a few more times before he painted them white. “M’ cumming inside your girl, Minnie, it’s feel so fucking good…”

It was when Hongjoong bit down onto your neck that you catapulted over the edge, grabbing at the guitarist’s bare back, digging your nails into his skin. ��Mingiii, he’s filling me up…it won’t stop…”

“Oh god, baby, oh my god.” Mingi huffed and huffed, his entire body tensing up as he drove himself over the edge right after you, splashes of cum landing on his rapidly rising chest and abdomen.

You simply laid there making small squeaks from the aftershocks of your orgasm, while Hongjoong stayed put inside you, his soft, deflated cock suddenly twitching with newfound interest, a light bulb appearing inside his hazy brain. “Min, I want you to come over here. You need to see the mess I made inside your girlfriend…”

And just like that, Mingi made his way over to the next door hotel room, fumbling with his loose pants and the doorknob, wiggling till it unlocked. He kicked his jeans off once inside the half-lit room, climbing onto the bed to join the both of you, having the same intensely horny, almost deranged look in his eye that he usually had before a show.

“Baby, look,” you sighed out, spreading your thighs open, while Hongjoong pulled out inch by inch, until a flood of creamy white liquid bubbled out of your pulsing hole, dripping down your thighs and onto the already damp mattress below.

Before Mingi could properly access the arousing situation, drool falling from his moaning mouth, Hongjoong suddenly grabbed him by the hair, pushing his head down in between your legs. “You wanna clean it up, don’t you, Minnie? Come on, be a good boy and lick up the mess I left inside her.”

Blushing, Mingi lapped at the mess of cum and slick, using his fingers to scoop the rest out into his eager mouth, Hongjoong’s hand still pressing his face further into your used cunt, eventually letting go when he started to go at it, watching his bandmate’s tongue swipe at your clit and slit. Mingi didn’t even seem to notice, too busy drowning in his baby’s sweet cunt to have any awareness, his hands clutching your trembling thighs.

“Gonna cum again,” you whined out, unable to speak when your boyfriend suddenly lifted his fingers up to your mouth to suck on them, his lips sucking around your sensitive clit, his dark, glazed over eyes focused solely on the way you seemed to completely fall apart in front of his and his best friend.

“Think you can get her to squirt?” Hongjoong asked from beside him, resting one of his hands on your moving thighs, holding it down so that you couldn’t close them.

Mingi glanced over at Hongjoong, rolling his mascara-smudged eyes, knowing exactly what to do to make his baby feel so good she sobbed. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, instead pushing three of them inside you, curling them up until you cried out. With his other hand, he forcefully pushed Hongjoong’s head down onto your cunt next. “Lick,” he commanded gruffly, concentrating solely on fucking you into ecstasy with his thick fingers.

Moaning against your cunt, Hongjoong lapped and nibbled on your throbbing clit, his cold piercing dragging over your sensitive flesh, feeling his bandmate’s fingers tugging at his hair, eliciting another muffled moan from him.

“Bite it. Bite her clit and make her cum,” Mingi demanded through gritted teeth, working your cunt like he always did, enjoying the sight of you writhing around, unable to speak or think, knowing his pretty baby was experiencing some of the best pleasure of her life thanks to him and his friend.

It was when Hongjoong bit down and moved your clit in between his teeth, Mingi’s fingers still moving relentlessly inside your clenching cunt, that you screamed, your boyfriend’s slick-covered fingers going back into your mouth to keep you from waking up everyone else in the hotel. Both bandmates watched as a small fountain of liquid squirted from your pulsing cunt, seeping into the mattress and turning it dark.

A few moments of silence went by, before Hongjoong gave Mingi a sickening smile. “Bet you can’t get her to do that with your cock.”

Mingi shook his head, blowing his wet bangs out of his eyes. “Of course I can. She’s my baby. I know her body like the back of my hand. I’ll make her drench the both of us.”

Hongjoong giggled softly, tilting his head to the side, his eyes flitting from you to Mingi. “Wanna make a bet?”

You were definitely in for a long night.

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borathae · 2 months ago

Text

↳ Index [Day 01 - Hotel Room Sex]

Pairing: Good Puppy!JK + Soft Mistress!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Rockstar!Jungkook

Kinks: porn with plot cause it's my demisexual ass, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, nipple play, nipple sucking, hair pulling, passionate pegging in missionary, use of a buttplug, lube, frotting, handjob, orgasm control, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), overstimulation, he pisses himself because it feels so good, subby boy tears, praise, dirty talk, possessive talk, muscle kink, cuddly and giddy aftercare

Wordcount: 9.2k

a/n: i can't believe i'm actually insane enough to do kinktober. besties, we're in for a ride :) this is based on this ask 💙

Jungkook sings about sex and drugs and getting drunk. He sings about the girls he fucks and kisses and how they all worship him. And he isn’t wrong. They worship him by the base of the stage, stretching their arms to him and screaming their throat raw, as if he was their god.

You don’t blame them. Jungkook looks good. Way too damn good. He is the lead singer and guitarist of his band Black Omens, a rock band known for its enchanting vocals and heavy guitar riffs. He has a certain style of singing and of playing the guitar which drives the fangirls wild. The stage is always lit in red shades and you will always find him in tight leather pants and tank tops. Sometimes he wears no shirt, showing off his tattoos and piercings. His hair is always a certain kind of wet on stage, hanging into his sexy face messily which truly fits the lewd topics he sings about.

And the girls go wild. He sings about being their master, their devil twisting their world all while he fingers the guitar and makes sultry eye contact with the crowd. They love it, you watch from the back with a knowing roll of your eyes. If only they knew.

The concert ends after the second encore with roaring applause and screeches. Tears are spilled and way too many undergarments thrown at the band. What a bunch of weirdos. You are jealous of them. Well, maybe not jealous but threatened. Jungkook promises you that he is loyal, that what he sings about isn’t how he truly feels, but with each concert your devotion to trust him shrinks. He asked you to come on tour with him, not wanting to be away from you again for months on end. You quit your old job two months ago because your manager decided to slip his hand under your colleague’s skirt and you broke his nose for it. Fair enough, you didn’t quit, you were fired, but you left with your head held high, knowing that your actions also resulted in your manager losing his job. And so you were unemployed and therefore had free time, so you agreed to come with Jungkook on his tour and postpone the job hunt until after. You had enough money saved up to live comfortably after the tour and while on tour didn’t need to spend any because the band budget paid for everything. Of course you agreed, but you slowly started to regret it. Jungkook sings about sex and drugs and getting drunk, he sings about all the women he dominates while thousands of willing women scream at his feet in hopes of being picked. You are only that strong in your belief that Jungkook is loyal before it finally starts to affect you.

Tonight was an especially bad night. While the band was saying goodbye, Jungkook brushed hands with a few fangirls – all of the band did – and it made you furious. The way they looked at him, how they grabbed him and basically begged to be his next willing thing to dominate made you furious.

The band leaves after their goodbyes, talking to each other as they jog down the stairs.

Hoseok, the drummer, and Yoongi, the lead guitarist, share a water bottle. They’re the first by your side, followed by Taehyung, the bassist, and Seokjin, the keyboardist.

“Alright now guys, good job up there. The crowd went wild for you tonight”, Namjoon, the manager and their good friend, says, appearing beside you as well with his phone in hand. He is always busy, always networking, always socialising. The guys jokingly call him their secret leader because he does all of their social tasks. He always accepts the teasing with an exasperated sigh and a “you’re not wrong you know? You’d be lost without me.”

“Thanks man. We felt pretty pumped up there. Fuck, it feels good to make music with you guys”, Yoongi says, boxing the air in a release of good adrenaline.

“Man, the ad-libs you did during Chained Up were fucking fire man, no lies”, Hoseok praises him.

“Says the right one. You were on fire during Spit. You and Taehyung. Man, your solo was great.”

Taehyung smiles, patting his back, “thanks man. I only followed Seokjin’s cues. You were lit, my man.”

“Man thanks seriously”, Seokjin says and accepts a bottle of water from Namjoon, downing it in one go.

Jimin, the third guitarist and second vocalist, finally comes backstage. He can scream really fucking well. He showed off the skill multiple times tonight, driving the crowd wild. Following Jimin, is Jungkook, smiling drunkenly from the successful night. Outside the crowd is still screaming for them. You can barely even look at him. He is a cheater, you just know that he is.

“Man, what a show”, he comes stumbling, arm falling around your shoulder. “Hey baby. Did you like the show?” he lulls, leaning so he could kiss your lips. He is sweating a lot, which you normally don’t mind but tonight it annoys you.

“You’re sweaty”, you say coldly, taking a step back.

Jungkook brushes off the embarrassment with a confused laugh and his eyes exchanging confused looks with the others. They aren’t any wiser.

“Did you all hear how I screamed during Save Me tonight?” Jimin tries to change topic. The others gladly take it, continuing to talk about the concert as you make your way to the greenroom. Jungkook tries to hold your hand when no one is looking, but you refuse him.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers.

“Nothing”, you refuse him answer, painting a crease of displeasure between his brows.

The guys get ready and unready in front of you. Of course they don’t get fully naked, but you have seen every single one of them in their underwear before. You are mostly on your phone or doodle in your notebook when they do because you don’t care to see their nude bodies. They are mostly talking about the concert and whether or not they should go for some beers later. You don’t partake in the conversation, sulking like an immature girl. You are aware that you are being immature, but you also can’t stop. Just hearing Jungkook’s voice makes your blood boil tonight. The latter keeps glancing at you with his brows furrowing more and more.

They are already dressed when the security guards come. You loathe this moment.

“Derek, hey man”, Jimin greets him.

“Hey, so uhm, there’s some fans outside who wanna see you.”

The insinuation is clear to everyone and you can’t stand it. Now granted, you like all of them, they are amazing and wonderful people and you are happy when they get a fun night if that is what both parties want clearly. They don’t allow anyone under the age of twenty six because that’s the age where most humans actually know what they want and they also have a clear rule that the people need to be completely sober and clear headed. There are contracts involved, ensuring the safety of both parties so the consenting women knew they wouldn’t be forced to do anything out of their comfort zone. It was an honest deal, still a little weird, but honest and safe, but you hated it nonetheless. Because Jungkook always went with the others. Not for sex because not every fan was here for that. Some just wanted a picture or an autograph and he wanted to make those fans happy and yet you still always dreaded the moment, thinking to yourself “what if tonight is the night he finally has enough of me and goes back to the hotel room with another girl? Will I have to sleep on the streets then? Will he make me watch knowing that it will hurt me?”

You never had such thoughts before, but this tour has been truly making you go crazy.

Tonight, Derek’s arrival made your stomach churn painfully and you almost threw up the enchiladas you ate earlier.

The guys leave the greenroom chatting with each other. You know that Yoongi and Seokjin won’t go home with anyone because that’s not in their comfort zone. They will pose for pictures and thank the fans for their support. There is a fifty-fifty chance that Taehyung might leave with someone, depending on the vibes. Jimin will most definitely leave with someone, no hesitation. Hoseok is only there for pictures unless there is someone his taste (he leaves with someone at most locations, he is just trying to act like he isn’t a fuckboy). Sometimes there are people for Namjoon as well, who he always declines with red cheeks. Jungkook, well, frankly you don’t want to think about him.

He follows the others, laughing and joking. Most are out of the door when he stops and looks back at you.

“Baby?” he queries.

“Mhm”, you hum, not looking up from your phone.

“Wanna come with us? Meet some of our fans?”

“Go and meet them yourself, maybe one of them can Suck It, Lick It, Ride It”, you throw back his own lyrics which he sang to the crowd as his hand was on his clothed crotch.

“Huh?”

You jump to your feet to stomp away, but Jungkook catches your wrist, tugging gently but with strength.

“What’s wrong? Why are you saying that?”

“Let go of me, I don’t wanna be touched.”

“Sorry.” He lets go instantly, studying you intensely. “Talk to me. What’s wrong, baby?”

“JK, you coming or what?” Hoseok asks, sticking his head back into the greenroom.

Jungkook looks at you pleadingly.

“Tch”, you scoff, turning your back to him.

Jungkook’s features tighten in confusion, panic and heartbreak. He forces a smile on it.

“Coming, don’t worry”, he says and leaves with Hoseok after giving you one last look over his shoulder.

Just like you had predicted, the known guys leave with someone while the others only take pictures. You all leave for the hotel room together, sharing cars. Yoongi and Seokjin share the car with you and Jungkook. Namjoon is with you as well, on his phone of course. The others take the other car.

Because of the missing privacy, Jungkook can’t talk to you, destined to sit next to you while you refuse to be touched by him.

You booked rooms on the seventh floor, saying your goodbyes on the hallways before disappearing inside your rooms.

The door closes behind Jungkook.

You slip out of your shoes and then you are already gone from the entrance, fleeing into the living area of the big room.

You sit down in one of the chairs and open the room service menu. You aren’t hungry, but don’t know what else to do.

“Can we finally cut the crap and talk?” Jungkook enters the room.

“Do you want room service?”

“No. I wanna talk to you about what’s bothering you ‘cause something clearly is.”

You lower the menu, glaring at him. He is glaring back with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Nothing’s bothering me.”

He throws his hands in the air and drops them, letting them slap against his thighs as a gesture of complete defeat. It makes a loud sound of impact on the leather pants.

“Very mature of you, seriously”, he says with annoyance in his voice, “I’m taking a shower, maybe you wanna talk about it afterwards.”

You don’t move from your spot during the time he takes to shower, sulking and feeling embarrassed. Jungkook isn’t wrong. You know that being a sulky girl isn’t very grown-up of you to do, but you just can’t help it. What if you speak up and he confirms it? What if he says that it’s just sex, babe? You love him so much, but what if he doesn’t love you in return?

Jungkook, who notices that you haven’t shifted one bit in the chair even after almost forty minutes, stops in his tracks to sigh in defeat.

“What’s the matter? Just talk to me.”

You glance at him. He is only in his towel now, carrying his clothes under his arm. His hair and face are freshly washed, vast of any product or makeup. This is the kind of Jungkook only you get to see. The real, unfiltered human. It should be enough to make your heart see that you are everything he needs, but it’s not.

“Nothing, I don’t know”, you murmur, looking away

“___ please. I know something is wrong, please let us fix it.”

You throw your hands over your face to muffle the sudden sob you want to let out.

Jungkook drops his clothes and hurries to you. He sits down on the chair opposite of you, dragging your hands away.

“Talk to me, my love. What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you homesick?”

You shake your head.

“Is it the rooms we stay in? I know they’re not the most comfortable sometimes and-”

“No, not that.”

“Well, what then baby?” he asks softly, wiping your tears.

“I’m scared.”

“Scared of what? That I’ll overdo it? I promise those days are over. I’m twenty seven now, I learned from-”

“No, the girls.”

“The girls? Why are you scared of girls?” He scoots closer, takes your hands and speaks in a serious voice. “What happened in Jakarta won’t happen again. I promise. We upped the security, so nobody can climb on stage again and try to kiss one of us. I promise I’m gonna stay safe.”

“And loyal too?”

Jungkook is silent. In shock and confusion. Very obviously not in caught panic. He is merely lost for words, trying to make sense of what you just asked him.

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me. How can I know that you’re gonna be loyal?”

“Because I took you on this tour with me.”

“And if you hadn’t?”

“I would have called you each night.”

You search for words, studying his face.

He clicks his tongue and speaks your name as softly as possible, cradling your face, “oh my sweet love, why are you feeling like this all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just…” You sigh in defeat. “I’m just tired of hearing you sing about dominating countless girls when I know I could never give you that. And then they, they scream at your feet as if you were their god with such actual, pure devotion in their eyes. I can’t compete with all of them.”

“But you don’t have to compete with them. I love you and that won’t ever change.”

“I can’t be like them.”

“Good. I’m in love with you, not them.”

A smile hushes over your face. Jungkook smiles back at you, closing the distance to peck your lips. You accept it with a whimper and a tremor.

“Aw baby, don’t cry. I’m here”, he says, hugging you against him.

You hug him back, sniffling into his neck.

“Why are you feeling like this all of a sudden? Was it something I did?” he asks.

“No, it’s just that it’s been a lot, actually, watching you have thousands of girls at your feet each night. And, and then when they come backstage I get so scared. I keep thinking what if tonight is the night he finally has enough of me and goes back to the hotel room with another girl? Will I have to sleep on the streets then? Will he make me watch knowing that it will hurt me? I’ve been feeling so insecure lately and scared that one of them will be more your type than me.”

“No, I’m sorry, my baby. You don’t have to feel this way, I love you and only you.” He gives you a tight squeeze. “Please believe me. I love you so, so much. You’re not in any kind of danger, I mean it. I see these people as fans of our music, nothing more. You’re my everything. Okay?”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Thank you for saying that. I love you too.”

“Is that why you were being cold to me? Because you felt too insecure?”

“No, I guess…I’m sorry for being like this. I try not to be, but it’s hard. It’s just that my voice never mattered to others and if I spoke up I was ridiculed.”

“Don’t apologise, baby. I understand. Thank you for talking to me, I know that wasn’t easy.”

“No.” You sniffle, squeezing him. “No, it wasn’t.”

“There, there”, he rubs your head as he talks, “it feels better now though, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, very.”

“For me too. I was really hurt when you ignored me. It makes me really anxious and I would really like it if in the future, you could maybe give me a short notice if you still need time to be ready to talk.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to tell you if I still need time in the future.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry for giving you reasons for doubting my loyalty to you. What do you need me to do in the future?”

“I don’t know. I know the image you guys have is kinda detrimental to your success and I don’t want you to lose the connection you have with your fans. I know they matter to you.”

“Yes, as fans. You matter to me as my partner. I want to make you happy first and foremost.”

“Maybe, I don’t know, maybe you could be cuter with me?”

“Cuter? Then I have an idea. I’ll dedicate at least one song to you each gig. Alright?”

You giggle.

“Yeah, you like that. I like it too, my muffin.”

You nudge him away.

“Don’t call me that.”

He grins boyishly, earning himself another nudge.

“I’m taking a shower, you egg. If you wanna order room service, go ahead”, you tell him and stand up to leave.

“Yes okie. Are you hungry?”

“Not really, but you can eat something.”

Jungkook is lounging on bed when you come outside.

“Did you order something?”

“No, I-”, Jungkook’s words get stuck in his throat.

You wear the towel around your hips, forcing him to do a double take because he definitely didn’t expect the view. With a content sigh, you drop onto the mattress beside him. You aren’t blind to the way his eyes gawk at your tits.

“Like what you see?”

“Bouncy”, he gets out and gulps.

You laugh, “yes, boobs tend to do that with movement.”

“Ah, so pretty”, he closes the distance and buries his nose into your side boob with a cute hum. His tattooed arm is around your waist like this. He kicks his feet happily, humming cutely as he nuzzles your boob.

You snicker, enjoying the attention to the fullest. He lifts his head and grins up at you.

“You know, I was thinking”, he says, tracing your side with his fingertips.

“What were you thinking?”

“We could order room service a little later and I’ll show you my devotion first.”

“Your devotion?” you ask, feeling tingly.

“Mh-hm”, he nods his head, lowering it to your chest afterwards so he could mouth at your tits. He does it softly and very teasingly. “You know me. How I really am, what I really want”, he speaks between his kisses, speeding up your breath with it. His pierced lips brush over your nipple, forcing it to harden and tingle.

“But I feel like you’ve started to forget that”, he whispers, darting the tip of his tongue out to trace your nipple.

You squirm on the sheets. Jungkook ends the slow feast with a gentle suck and then he is already back to feather light kisses all over your chest. He even climbs between your legs for better access, raising your breath to quickened levels.

“Which means, I gotta let you put me back in my place.”

He lifts his head, lips so very close to kiss and sultry eyes getting lost in yours. Your heart is racing like crazy. You are so attracted to him.

“Peg me, my goddess. I’ve been acting out of line, I need to be curbed again.”

“Kook…”

“Please?”

You gulp. He makes puppy eyes at you. His temptation is powerful, you must admit. Pegging him tonight would definitely cure your insecure heart. There is nothing more sensual than being inside him and he looks so, so good taking it. You like to argue that this is when he looks best. The temptation is unbearable, but you can’t give in yet. He has to work a little harder for his reward.

“Yah”, you slap his chest gently, “you can’t just do that to me.”

“Why not?” he chuckles.

“Because you’re being unfair with your techniques. You wanna be pegged? What about me? You think I’ll let you get everything after what you did?”

Jungkook mewls, sagging his shoulders in defeat. You are already playing into it. This is both real, but also meant to rile him up.

“Of course not, I’m sorry. I, I shouldn’t have suggested that”, he says and bows his head, using it as an opportunity to begin licking your breasts again. He places his hands under your armpits, dancing them down your sides and up again.

You close your eyes, melting into the pillow with a slight scoot forwards.

“Can I make it up to you, Mistress?” he asks, mouthing at your right nipple.

“Yeah…”

“Thank you, wow, thank you”, he gets out.

He sucks on your nipple one last time then takes on another journey. He uses his tongue for it, swirling it down the middle of your stomach. You follow it with an arch of your back, sighing his name. You are so addicted to his touch.

“You’re the most beautiful woman”, he rasps, supporting his words with needy kisses all over your lower stomach. You are sensitive there so this is riling you up like crazy.

“Kook, no teasing”, you mewl, thrusting your hips up desperately.

“Mhm.” He fumbles with the towel. “Can I open it?”

“Yeah, quick.”

He chuckles, opening it with a skilled tug. He sits back on his feet as he unravels you, smoothing the towel out on each side of your hips. His eyes are mesmerised by your pussy, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Wow, I’m just…wow.”

You prop your legs up and part them. Jungkook gulps and moans afterwards.

“I can’t believe you’re real”, he whispers.

“I taste good too, you know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. Oh my Mistress”, he murmurs and lies down on his stomach, arms wrapping around your thighs and fingers digging deep into your softness. He buries himself in your warmth with a needy mewl, instantly beginning to attack your clit with eager sucks and quick licks.

“Oh”, you let out, twitching in surprise. “Woah.” You croak, grabbing his hair to twist it.

Jungkook mewls into you, enjoying the burn on his scalp and the overwhelmed throbbing of your pussy. He knows that he went for it rather aggressively, but he had to. You are doubting his devotion to you. He needs to show you that he starves whenever he isn’t between your legs. You need to know that your taste is all he ever wants.

“Holy fuck, you’re being - ah - shit, Kook fuck ah, you’re being ah rather, ah, rather aggressive, mhhhm, wouldn’t you say-aah?” You somehow get out, writhing under his mouth.

He nods his head and moans his words against you. “All I want is you. I was so starved.” His tongue glides through your folds, filling your walls for a change. Not that your clit is getting a break. He uses his pretty nose for it, sinking into your sweetened scent as he grinds his nose into your clit while he tongue fucks you quickly.

You growl deeply and roll your eyes back sensually, arching your back. Your legs fall open weakly, now held only by Jungkook's strong arms and his needy hands.

“You’re insane, holy fuck.”

Jungkook hums and breaks away sloppily. He talks as he kisses your pussy. “Yeah, insane for you. My fucking goddess, my everything, my life. Fuck, I want you.” He takes your clit between his messy lips and uses his skilled tongue on it.

“Oh god, stay there ah!”

Jungkook mewls in understanding, gazing up at you with darkened yet devoted eyes. You are so loud. Your chest is lifting and rising quickly. Fuck, your tits are so sexy. Jungkook slides his right hand from your thigh to cradle your tit instead. It takes him a second of fumbling and then he has your nipple between his fingers, rolling and massaging it just how you like it.

“Kook, baby”, you keen, holding his hand and twisting his hair at the same time. You don’t stop him, you just want to hold so much of him. He makes you feel so good and you need to make sure this is real.

Jungkook purrs into you, closing his eyes sensually. You are writhing so happily, moaning because of him. Are the others hearing you? Are they hearing that he makes you feel good because he is yours? A part of him hopes that they can. Especially the women going back to the hotel with his friends. He furrows his brows, suddenly feeling angry at them. How dare they make his woman feel insecure. Hopefully they hear how good you feel right now, hopefully they get the fucking message that Jungkook does all of this for you.

“Slow down, ah, Kook slow down you’re being so, ah fuck, so aggressive”, your squeaks rip him back to reality. He has been pressing his mouth into your pussy as tightly as possible, almost licking your clit raw. Fuck, he was so angry at the world that he was too rough with you.

He whimpers, lifting his mouth, “I’m sorry. Fuck, I can’t exist without you, I’m sorry I was…I just love you so much”, he lulls, kissing your clit as apology.

“You’re such a munch, ah fuuuuck”, you sigh, opening your legs even further. You guide his hand to your other nipple for a change because even that he rubbed raw. Jungkook switches arms for it quickly, moaning when you hold his new hand as well. His right hand he guides down to your pussy, burying his two longest digits in your dripping warmth.

“Jungkook!” you yelp, thrusting your hips.

“Yours. I’m yours”, he mewls, connecting his puffy lips with your clit so he can lick you again. Up and down, up and down, up and down. You like this the most, walls throbbing around his digits as he uses them to stimulate you from the other side as well. You clench down on him, making it feel so much better for you.

“I can’t hold back anymore.”

Jungkook mewls and opens his eyes. He needs to watch you break apart. First you throw your head to the side and lift your brows. Then his name falls off your tongue and your mouth stays open. Next a loud moan and your back lifting off the sheets. Finally the rhythmic throbbing begins and Jungkook knows that he has you orgasming on his tongue and fingers.

He whimpers into you, feeling high and trying to do the best job at keeping the touches perfect for you.

“Wow, holy fuck”, you come down with a curse, flinching when he overstimulates you with needy licks. You tug on his hair. “No more, puppy.”

Jungkook mewls sadly but obeys. He slips his fingers out and drops your nipple, placing both hands on your thighs instead so he could guide them to his lips. He needs more of you. Now that you deny him your sweet cunt, he needs to find relief in the softness of your thighs. He sucks and kisses the tender flesh, listening to your voice as you talk to him.

“You were fucking insane tonight. What the hell?”

You writhe in the aftershocks. Jungkook changes thighs, worshiping it with throaty mewls.

“I can’t tell whether I came with my clit or my g-spot or my fucking nipples. Oh god, Kook.”

He whimpers, humping the mattress. Good. That’s good. He did this to you. It’s all he wanted.

“You’re insane, seriously.”

“I love you, couldn’t help myself”, he lulls and dares to kiss your pussy. Gently.

“Ah”, you gasp and chuckle, burying your hands in his hair to ruffle it, “stop it, you munch.”

Jungkook mewls, shaking his head as he places more kisses on your well eaten pussy. You smell so good after a high. He is delirious between your legs, floating on cloud nine.

But you are sensitive and so you pull him up with a gentle tug to his hair.

“Be a good puppy.”

He finally comes up, letting out a sweet sigh of your name. His lips are glossy from your orgasm, his damp hair sticks to his forehead. He lays himself down over you, gazing at you dreamily.

You brush his hair out of his face, cradling his cheeks. He mewls, lowering his eyes droopily as he leans into your touch.

“This was amazing, thank you.”

He shakes his head, “thank you for letting me taste you, Mistress.”

“Gosh you sweetie. Wanna have a reward?”

“Yes please”, he whimpers, eyes glassy in devotion.

“I knew you would like that. Get ready for me, yeah?”

“I already am, Mistress.”

“What?”

Jungkook breaks out of your touch to turn his back to you. He is kneeling between your legs, lowering himself to his elbows so his back is arched and his butt lifted into the air. The towel is still covering him.

“What do you mean? Are you wearing a plug?” you ask, sitting up to tug the towel from him. It falls on the sheets, revealing his sweet bubble butt to you and the big plug lodged right between his cheeks.

“Jungkook, what the hell?” you get out, gawking with parted lips and widened eyes.

He whimpers cutely, wiggling his hips. You still them with a hungry grip, making him moan just for you. He looks over his shoulder at you, carrying nothing but submission in his pretty eyes.

“I put it in before the concert. I planned on asking for your strap after the show, but then we had this fight and I gave up on it.”

“Holy fuck….”

“I’m yours for life, Mistress.”

Your eyes meet. He is honest. You gulp, squeezing his hips as your eyes switch back to the plug. It is black in colour and has a round base. The silicon is made of the highest quality, sitting so perfectly in his hole.

“You performed with it in?” you ask, voice croaky and frail because he has you so weak.

“Yeah. It was so difficult sometimes. I kept thinking of you and trying not to get hard.”

“Holy fuck and I was being fucking jealous…”

“It’s okay, Mistress. I was yours all the time.”

“Holy shit”, you whisper, soaking the towel with your excitement. “I can’t believe you held a concert plugged up. This is so hot, I can’t process it.”

“Just for you, Mistress.”

“Kook, wow. And when we talked?”

“No, it wasn’t in.”

“Did you take it out in the shower?”

“Yeah. I hid it in my clothes but then, then we made up again and I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry Mistress, I put it back in.”

He mewls and sticks his ass closer to you, revealing more of it. He is such a natural at arching his back. Holy fuck, you are dripping like as a fucking river.

“Please, can you be inside me? Please, I need you inside me, please”, he begs.

“Fuck, you’re so hot”, you get out, giving his buttocks a spank each.

He flinches both times, moaning sweetly and fingers twisting the sheets. The impact was just harsh enough that his skin reddens a little where you struck him. Not much, it is but a cute little flush.

“You’re blushing now, puppy”, you tease him, rubbing the tender spots.

Jungkook curses under his breath, burying his face in the sheets with a sensual roll of his eyes.

“Hm, cute”, you smile, giving his tailbone a kiss before straightening up. “Stay like this for me, okay?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

You get everything you need to make him yours, putting it on next to the bed. Tonight isn’t the first night you peg Jungkook on this tour or in general for that matter. Anal sex is quite the regular thing between you and him and tonight it feels especially hot.

To think that he performed plugged up. You might need to rearrange his guts for it. You place the lube bottle in the sheets and climb back onto bed behind him, running your palms along his butt. Jungkook’s breath quickens, he squirms a little. You know that he is so, so excited right now.

“Mhm, you’re tempting me being like this, you know?”

He mewls, arching his back.

“So pretty. Makes me wanna pound you like we’re two fucking dogs in heat.”

He moans, heavy cock twitching between his meaty thighs and hole moving the plug needily. It gets him off like crazy when you talk rough with him.

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

He nods his head vigorously, giving you a sweet cute moan.

“Of course you did. It’s a shame that I don’t want this.”

“Huh?” he peeks at you pleadingly but gulps when he sees the dirty smirk you are sporting.

“Get on your back, puppy. Now.”

Jungkook obeys as quickly as his wobbly knees allow him. He flips right where he is, head facing the foot end of the bed and feet the pillows.

“That’s it”, you rasp, lying yourself down over him with your hands on each side of his head.

He gulps, gazing at you in devotion. He reaches up and grasps your wrists, arching his back just for you. His dark hair is ruffled on the white sheets.

“That’s what I want. I wanna look at your pretty face as I make you mine.”

“Mistress…”

“Yeah, you like that too, don’t you?”

“So much”, he whimpers, nodding his head vigorously. He lets out a little sob, “please I’m so horny, Mistress.”

“Of course you are. You can sing about being a girl’s Master all you want, but that’s not you, is it? You don’t get off to that, do you?”

“No, Mistress”, he shakes his head, pouting in desperation, “no, I’m Mistress’ puppy. You, you get me off.”

“Yes, I do. You’re mine. Mine to form and command and own.”

He moans, thrusting his hips up which results in your strap to rub against his cock. He whimpers and does it again.

You glance down and chuckle.

“Would you look at that”, you sit up, kneeling with his legs slung around your thighs. You pick up his cock and yours, squeezing them together in a sensual handjob.

“Holy fuck”, Jungkook croaks and rolls his eyes back, head digging into the sheets and arms reaching high above it to twist the sheets. He arches his back, toes curling on the sheets and cock throbbing against yours. The power you have over him is so obvious to you and it’s getting you off like nothing else. He might have thousands of girls screaming at his feet, he might be singing for them but in your hands, he is turning into a pretty puppy with just the first touch. Only you get to make his body move like that. Only you get to make his face pull this expression. And only you get to make him sing in such ways.

“That’s what I mean. That’s the fucking view I want, puppy. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yourssss”, Jungkook mewls, dragging out the word in a sweet moan as his body writhes on the sheets against his will. Because when he is in your hands he has no own will, no own thoughts. You control him, everything he does, every movement his body makes.

“Mhhm mine, all mine”, you purr, looking at your cocks so close together.

The dildo you have strapped into the harness is translucent because there is something incredibly arousing about seeing it inside Jungkook. It makes his hole look so pretty. It also looks very pretty against his cock.

You open the lube bottle with your other hand and tilt it over your cocks to squirt a good amount down on them. Jungkook reacts in a mewl of your name and his cock throbbing against yours.

“Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck”, he curses repeatedly under his breath, lost in the frotting with closed eyes and an agape mouth. His throat looks so sexy like this.

You spread the lube on your cocks, doing a good job with it. You even break them apart for a bit to jerk them off with one hand each. Jungkook kicks the sheets, voice cracking in the back of his throat.

“Stay still, puppy.”

“I’m sensitive”, he mewls, kicking again despite trying not to.

“I know you are. You always are. Just try for me, okay?”

“Oh god”, he whispers, following it up with a desperate keen. He tenses his thighs, forcing his legs to stay still as best as possible. His abs rifle as well, trying so hard to keep his hips from squirming.

“There we go. Good puppy”, you praise and press your cocks together again. You wrap both hands around them, using them to pump you from the bases all the way to the tips.

“A-a-ah”, Jungkook lets out loudly, squirming instantly.

“Puppy”, you warn in a laugh.

“I’m sorry I- oh!” he sits up as best as possible and grabs your hands tightly.

“Hm?”

“Stop, holy fu- wait please. Let go.”

You let him pull you away, gawking at his face so you wouldn’t miss the grimace of agony he pulls. He frowns, gritting his teeth and curling his lips back. He looks so angry like this, but you know better. He was one second away from orgasming.

“What’s the matter?” you feign your ignorance.

“Close, fuck”, he growls and pushes your hands to your sides, so he can cradle your face instead. He kisses the first spot his lips touch, breathing all over your face. “___ oh my god.”

You chuckle softly, caressing his waist. You can feel how heavily he breathes.

“Why didn’t you let go?”

“I can’t. Not yet. If I let go, I get too tight and…”

“And you can’t get tight yet. Oh puppy, you’re such a good boy. Wanna stay loose for Mistress, mhm?”

“Yeah”, he mouths at your nose. “So loose. Oh god Mistress, please can you be inside me?”

“You’re so perfect. Lie down again, okay?”

Jungkook follows your instructions. You touch his thighs and he is already propping his legs up to give you easier access.

“Very good.”

You turn away for a second to grab a pillow, turning back to Jungkook already having lifted his butt.

“Look at you. You’re so obedient tonight.”

“I’m always obedient.”

You laugh, “no, sometimes you’re being a little brat.”

“That’s only when the concert was really fun. I’m too hyper afterwards.”

“Yeah, I noticed this too. You’re an egg, you know?”

He huffs out air, “why do you get to call me egg, but I can’t call you muffin?”

You smile and place yourself atop of him, lowering yourself to your elbows to brush your lips against his’.

“Because I say so.”

“Holy fuck, please kiss me” he breathes, mesmerised beyond saving.

“Mhm, soon”, you tease and straighten up again.

You run your palms down the inside of his thighs, calling his attention to your touch.

“Are you comfortable like this?”

“Yeah, really.”

You brush your hands past his cock, speeding up his breath because he knows what will come next. You trace the plug, meeting his eyes.

“Relax for me.”

He exhales shakily, nodding his head.

“There we go. So good.”

You pull the plug out slowly, making him moan with a throbbing cock. You moan with him, almost drooling at the view. The plug is huge. At least four inches in length and with a diameter as girthy as your strap. His hole barely wants to give it up, stretching around it as you free him from it.

“Holy fuck, you walked around with this inside?”

“Yes, oh god Mistress oh god, oh god.”

“This is so sexy. Fuck…Kook…you’re so sexy.”

The plug slips out, forcing his hole to squeeze out hot lube. Thankfully you laid out a towel under his butt because he is already making a mess.

“I hate this, oh god I wanna be filled up”, Jungkook mewls, squirming in agony.

“Soon, puppy.”

You place the plug aside and spread new lube in your palm to cover your cock with it. The excess you spread on his lose hole.

Jungkook calms down at the touch but only because it means that he will get your cock soon. He glances at you as best as the position allows.

You smile at him, scooting closer. It happens naturally that he drapes his legs over yours so your thighs were under his propped up legs and you could be so much closer. Your skins are melted together like this, sharing warmth. It feels so good to know that only you get to experience his body heat this way.

“Are you ready?”

“So ready, oh god.”

“Take a deep breath in for me.”

He obeys your command.

“Good, hold it in for three…” you guide your cock to his hole, “..two…” you touch his hole with your tip, “...one, release”, you push inside.

Jungkook release the breath in a squeaky moan, fingers gripping your thighs instantly and head rolling to the side. You stop with his rim around your tip.

“Look at me.”

He obeys.

“There we go. Keep looking at me as I slip it in. I wanna see how handsome you look.”

You move again, pushing your cock further into him. It is so easy to fill him. There is no resistance, just utter willingness to take you.

Jungkook lets out one sound - one breathy, beautiful sound - and then one tear spills from each of his eyes, running down his temples.

“Hey, are you okay? Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head, furrowing his brows as he croaks his words.

“Just love you so much.”

“Oh.” You bottom out. “I love you too.”

“___ oh god” he chokes out and rolls his eyes back, squeezing them shut. He spills new tears like this, dimpling your thighs from how needily he holds you.

“Try to breathe, okay?”

He nods his head, throwing it back a moment later when you begin rolling your hips into him. He moans your name with no hesitation, arching his back as if it was the best feeling he ever experienced.

“Is this good for you?”

“It’s the best I ever felt, oh god.”

“Shit, my stomach’s so tingly because of you. You say the hottest shit.”

“Keep moving please, oh…oh!”

His hole moves around your cock. He is so flushed on his rim and so pink inside. You see both. Just as you see his cock twitch each time you bottom out. He is trembling so much, moaning so loudly that you want to keep moving just so he doesn’t stop. Is he loud enough that the others hear him? Do the fans hear him? Is it finally enough to show them that he is yours and only yours? Parts of you hope that they can hear him moan on your strap.

You roll your hips into him, burying your cock deep in his dripping walls. You stay there, writing your name. Jungkook’s moans rise in pitch, he arches his back and curses against his will.

“Am I hitting it, mhm?”

He nods his head vigorously, leaving nail marks on your skin.

“Yeah? Right there?”

You place the flat of your palm on his lower stomach and press down. Your cock hits your palm through his stomach. Jungkook wails up, reaching up to press his hands into his eyes and twist his hair at the same time. His sculpted arms are flexed like this. The noises he makes are like music to your ears.

“Right there, I know. I can feel myself inside you, puppy. You’re so filled up with me.”

You don’t expect Jungkook to answer you. His helpless, drugged out noises are everything you need. He is such a good singer, so talented and perfect but he sounds best when you make him moan. The range he shows during such moments is impressive. How can go from deep growls to the highest squeaks and he never sounds off. Honestly, you could get off just listening to him. You really could.

“Right there, good puppy. You’re taking me so well.”

You draw circles with your palm as you fuck yourself into him. You need him stimulated from as many angles as possible. You need him to feel stuffed and feel every fucking one of your long, drawn out thrusts. You aren’t fucking him right now, you are making sweet possessive love to him. You need every second to feel like endless ecstasy to him.

And oh how it does. How you mess him up. How weak he is in your hands.

You can feel it in his stomach first then watch it in his face.

“Is this good, mhm?” you taunt.

“I have to cum.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

Jungkook sobs your name, pulling his own hair back as he breaks around your strap. He becomes restless, but you push him down with your hand on his tensing stomach.

“There we go. Let that pressure go, such a good puppy. Cumming so good with your ass”, you talk him through it, watching in fucking obsession.

You are making him cum without touching his cock. He needed to have your strap so badly that he can orgasm just from it. Oh you are going to make him scream once he calmed down.

You give him a few moments to catch his breath after his high, allowing his hole to relax around you.

“How was that?”

Jungkook squeaks and mewls weakly, nodding his head.

Knowing he is too ruined to see, you spread more lube on your cock then finally lay yourself atop of him.

One hard thrust is all it takes. Jungkook rips his eyes open, taking it with a squeal and his brown eyes so big.

“You’re not done. Hear me?” You rasp, thrusting into him deeply and harshly.

“___!” He yelps, grabbing your shoulders.

Your eyes are darkened and widened in craze, pinning him down until he feels small and tiny. His hole is throbbing, his insides are so sensitive. Jungkook’s toes curl against his will, he hears his own pulse in his head. This is so overstimulating and he can’t escape it.

Another deep thrust forces him to slip closer to the edge. You chase him, using the momentum to drill your cock into him until his ass connects with your thighs in a loud slap. His back bends, his feet fly into the air and collide with your lower back.

“Yeah, that’s it. Wrap your legs around me”, encourage him in a growl, twisting the sheets beside his head. His weakened fingers fall from your shoulders, grabbing his own hair again as he cries under you.

“Mhm look at your arms like this, so fucking sexy”, you rasp, licking along his biceps before you end it with a deep thrust. The kind which shakes him to his very core and drags an ecstatic moan from his tongue.

You lick his other arm as well, rewarding his very presence with another thrust. Jungkook shakes under you, stomach convulsing and hole desperately trying to push you out. Not that he wants you out. It happens against his will. You fuck him so good that his body reacts by trying to push. It brings the most sensitive parts to the surface. The parts which are soft and tender and so easily stimulated. Jungkook keeps switching between clenching and pushing, having no control over it as you have him under your spell.

All he can do is make whatever kind of noises you fuck out of him and pray that he will survive this night. You are so assertive in your thrusts, so possessive in the way you claim him. Granted, you always get a little possessive when you peg him, but tonight it is the main motivator for each of your skilled thrusts and it’s ruining him.

“You’re mine. Holy shit, you’re mine.”

Jungkook wants to say it back, but he can’t. He rarely loses his ability to speak, but he has no words left tonight. You never felt like this before. You never fucked with such force, such depth and craze. And he never felt so frail before. He is so much stronger than you and yet he can’t use any of it right now. His legs tremble around your waist against his will, his arms feel like useless noodles as you lick and bite them repeatedly and his torso is on fire from the constant pleasure you shoot up his body.

He is yours. Don’t be mistaken. He is yours and yours and yours. He just can’t say back. He physically can’t talk.

“All of this is mine. Shit puppy, I love you like fucking crazy. I need help.”

You bite his biceps especially hard, making him sob and drop his arms weakly. His flesh slips from your teeth, his messy face comes into your view. He looks ruined. Teary, snotty, sweaty and flushed. You lower yourself to your elbows and cradle his face, resting your forehead against his’ while your hips chase his depths.

“All mine. For life”, you whisper.

“You’re making me cum”, he sobs, orgasming on your length a second later. He reaches for your face and cries, whimpering your name like his last call for saving. But there is no saving him from the kind of high you give him. He has to get through it even if it feels so good that he loses himself to it. Even if it is so hot that his body is burning. Even if it digs so deep that he actually feels every single nerve in his body make sense of it.

And because you are you, you make it even better by picking up his cock and jerking it off quickly.

Jungkook screams, fleeing you until his head falls over the edge and tangles in the air. You chase him, drilling his throbbing hole in quick rolls of your hips while your hand milks his cock.

“Give me everything, puppy. Every single drop.”

“I have to pee! Please too much! Too much. I’ll piss myself, please!”

“Don’t hold back. Let it happen, puppy. Fucking piss yourself for me.”

You twist your hand around his cockhead and fuck his swollen prostate, sealing his fate. The stimulation is too much, the pleasure too big. Jungkook gets set off one last time, finally orgasming with his cock. He shoots a huge load of creamy cum at first, covering his own torso and parts of the sheets. Then it happens just as he had said. He spurts sweet pee everywhere, crying like a pathetic boy as you help him get reborn.

You climax like this with him, spilling tears from the beautiful view in front of you. You own him to the point where you control his bodily functions. He pisses himself for you and screams your name as he does. This is like heroin to you.

Jungkook tightens up painfully after his high. He reaches for you with one hand, using the other to hit the mattress in his safety gesture.

You let go of him instantly, stilling your hips.

“Out please out.”

“I am. Relax and breathe. Breathe.”

You slip out of his painfully tight hole, soothing it afterwards with soft rubs.

“Breathe baby, it’s already done.”

“Holy fuck, oh god”, he croaks and then the next moments are filled with sounds of you and him catching your breaths.

You know that he needs this and you need it too. You can’t stop looking at him and the puddle he left on his own torso. His own cum mixes with it. His sweat does too. He did this for you. Because you told him to. You really don’t have to worry, do you?

Jungkook comes back to you, trying to sit up.

“Ah, everything hurts”, he gives up, head still tangling over the edge.

“Wait. I’ll wipe you down and then help.”

He lets you clean him.

“Wrap your arms around me.”

He obeys, giggling in surprise when you tug him up moments later. Like this, you and he are facing each other, legs tangled together and bodies so close. You cradle his neck and rub his upper back, gazing into his beautiful eyes.

He has his fingers in your hair as deeply as possible, eyes lost in yours.

“I love you”, you whisper.

“I love you too”, he breathes and spills tears.

You wipe them instantly, “don’t cry.”

“I’m happy. You made me feel so good.”

“Yeah? It felt so good for me too. Oh Kookie”, you cradle his cheeks, resting your forehead against his’, “you peed yourself for me.”

“I would do it again. It’d do anything for you.” He hugs you, face hidden in the safe crook of your neck. “I never experienced something like this before. Not with anyone. I can’t believe this happened to me. Thank you, ___. It felt so good, you have no idea.”

“Mmh no I think I’m getting an idea.”

“You do?”

“You’re making me squirt regularly, remember?”

He snickers, nodding his head.

“I know how you felt.” You hug him tighter. “I’m so glad you felt this way. Shit baby, I feel so giddy. This was so perfect for me.”

“Yes, it was perfect. Thank you for being like this. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He nuzzles and sighs. There is no more bad blood between you and him. You love him and he loves you, it is finally clear to both of you again. This is all that you needed tonight. Oh, how wonderful it is to be together.

“So, about room service. I was thinking. We could order two things from the menu each and then share it. So we get to try lots of food.”

“I get that the pegging made you hungry?”

“Mhm, you basically fucked a new stomach into me. I gotta fill it.”

You laugh loudly, breaking away to look at him.

“It’s stuff like that which makes you an egg. You say the weirdest stuff. Only an egg can do that.”

He laughs.

“Well, only muffins complain about this which makes you The Muffin of all the muffins.”

“Oh Kook, you cutie. I’m so happy with you”, you giggle, pulling him back into the hug. One which he falls into gladly and with a fluttering heart. “Don’t ever break my heart. Hear me?” you say, plead even.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it. Your heart is safe with me. Actually, I’ll build it its own cozy home and make sure it’s always taken care of. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. If your heart was a flower, I would water it each day and give it sunlight so it won’t ever have to wither away.”

You melt with him, spilling tears on his naked shoulder.

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook.”

“I love you too, ___.”

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usagifuyusummer · 3 months ago

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"You're loved. Don't forget."

More ramblings and concept art below lmao.

I am devastated on thinking Timmy's fate in the series... I won't put my faith that they will handle it well, so I'll just indulge in fanworks to fill in this void. If they ever do it well one day, then I'll be there for the encore.

For now, I think you'll see a lot of somewhat depressed art on FOP for a while lol. Not continuous mind you! University is a bitch to get through. Whenever I'm free that is. Which is on long stretches of time unfortunately... Still, when I'm not posting trash, I'll be around observing quietly. You can guarantee that at least.

The work this time is inspired by @xblubotx (the adopted parents kissing Timmy one so cute omgosh) and @cubbihue FOP AU (sorry I have not memorised your AU yet). I admire that Blubot can adapt the FOP artstyle so well lmao. It'll be lightyears before I can do that 😭😭😭. Also, their Timmy fanarts break my heart, thank you. For the fairies design, I took inspiration from Cubbihue's AU. I think it's cute that they have tails, but there's not much I can say regarding their AU since its still developing. Take your time on that and have fun by the way.

The context for this one is just that Timmy is embarassed that Cosmo and Wanda are giving him the affection he is missing out from his parents. Poof is laughing from Timmy's embarrassment lol. (Not using Poof's new name because that is not that iteration of his character.) Timmy got a lot of fairy dust to remove from his face on that day...

Hm, are there side-effects to fairies kissing a mortal (on the cheeks hehe)? I kinda wish there was a comprehensive mythology book for stuff like that. There's some sources where I read that fairies kissing humans can actually result in their soul being whisked away to the other world (essentially dying yeah) and some sources say that fairies kissing you means its their way of marking territory or for good luck??? I wonder where those myths came from... but it is fascinating to think about. I guess Timmy will die young then /jk lol.

I got input from my younger sister that a darker color background is better than the dark blue one I used initially. I'm quite unsure on this, so I'll just post them all... I also don't think I nailed Cubbihue's AU on the fairy sizes... It's hard to accurately draw characters on a specific scale for me... Oh well, I can practice more. This took me 3 days at least. Also, here's a png version of the piece and two photos of the concept sketches.

I think that's all I want to yap about. Thanks for reading and have a nice day. See you when my homework isn't killing me.

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bowlofsoob · 1 year ago

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🎤 thank you, next

social media smau | choi soobin x gender neutral reader

synopsis › in a universe where you and your soulmate swap bodies on your twenty-first birthday and every birthday after that. world renowned soloist soobin is set to have a concert on the day of your guys’ shared birthday, a firm believer he doesn’t have a soulmate and wants nothing to do with them. you, a college student who hasn’t listened to a single one of his songs, swap bodies with him on the day of your final exam and his big concert. you’re now under the public eye for ruining his career and soobin has to deal with your wrath since he failed your exams. he must also process the fact that he does in fact have a soulmate, one he couldn’t care less about.

genre › soulmate au, strangers to enemies to lovers, idol and college setting, crack and slight angst

warnings › swearing, alcohol consumption, ignore timestamps

status ongoing, no update schedule (update: hiatus!!)

taglist comment below to be added, asks will be ignored

playlist

NOW PLAYING!

featuring…

↳ yn and locals ⚘ soobin and friends

TRACK ONE: blow out the candles!

01. ticketmaster is evil

02. freaky friday dupe

03. pr team in shambles

04. awkward fancalls

05. go ahead and log out for me

06. his dick kinda big

07. pls don’t yell at me i will cry

08. tba

tba

TRACK TWO: are we 4lyfers ?!

09. pass or fail

10. am i dying alone /srs

11. mom i’m famous

12. breathe if you want me

13. hide and seek

14. left on delivered

TRACK THREE: this song is about you!

15. this one’s for you babe

16. crowd surfing

tba

ENCORE!

#txt smau #txt x reader #txt x gn reader #txt x gender neutral reader #choi soobin smau #soobin smau #soobin x gn reader #soobin x gender neutral reader #choi soobin x reader #soobin x reader #choi soobin x you #soobin x you #soobin x yn #choi soobin x y/n #thank you next smau

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taintedjeon · 1 year ago

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──★ ˙ ̟ 𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 - jjk (m)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: rockstar-vocalist!jk x groupie!reader (afab/she/her) 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞: rockstar au 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 18+, smut, porn-with-little-plot 𝐰𝐜: 4.1k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: omg here we go... bigdick!jk, bigsize!jk, dom!jk, sub!reader, she isnt bratty but she pushes the right buttons, strong language ie swearing, use of nicknames (princess, babydoll, baby, slut, good girl), now for the gewwwd stuffs ;; kissing, making out, nipple sucking, spit kink, size kink, light petting, reader goes into sub space, choking/asphyxiation, jk has not 1 .... nOT TEW not T H R E E ;; but ✨ fOuR ✨ dick piercings jahsgdfjshdh!!! (1 prince albert n 3 foreskin piercings) — n for the sake of this story he isnt circumcised since plenty of ppl on this app like to make things like that a big deal… if u do; theres the block button ok thank u bye. —the use of piercings for sexual pleasure, multiple orgasms, jk comes inside, unprotected sex, standing sex, dirty talk, fingering (oc receiving), oral (oc receiving), face ridddding, she uses his nose to stimulate.

Backstage of the venue is cold, a juxtaposition to the warmth of the crowd you had been swarmed in moments ago. Now, your body ignites in flames as Jeongguk drags you through the commotion of people; his palm wrapped around your wrist tight. From sound engineers, lighting operators, bodyguards and technicians of all kinds, Jeongguk manages to skillfully weave you both successfully to the end of what felt like a never ending corridor before opening the last door on the left and pulling you inside.

You’re not given enough time to make aware of your surroundings before Jeongguk shakes off his leather jacket and pulls his vintage 1991 Skid Row band shirt over his head in that sexy manner men do — arms crossed, gripping the hem and effortlessly off his body. Removing the shirt messes around with his already sweat soaked mid length bob that he has been growing out. But yet, as the strands fall in disarray over his face, it still manages to make him effortlessly fuckable.

You can’t ignore either his body and the way it bulges in the correct places and curves and dips in the rest. It might have been only six months since you had seen Jeongguk last, but in those six months, he has filled in his body finely — both physically and visually.

Tattoos litter his right arm in pretty shapes, swirls, designs and lettering. Beautiful colours striking against emboldened blacks and whites. He sports two barbells on either side of his chest and you bite your lip as images from the last hook up fills your mind from when you had the opportunity to enjoy them in person.

Jeongguk isn’t oblivious to you taking him in; top to bottom, head to toe, and finally he does something about it. Your back is pushed up against the door and the sound of the lock latching behind you. Jeongguk’s mouth is on yours in an instant, his pillowy lips slightly chapped from the singer being on stage for the last hour and a half but that doesn’t stop you from melting into him.

Your arms wrap around his neck, giving you ample opportunity to deepen the kiss. The metal of the metal hugging is lip is cool against your warm skin. Your tongue runs along the seam of his bottom lip and he grants you access to tangle your tongue with his. The after taste of cheap beer and spearmint gum is welcomed as the pair of you turn the kiss from passionately soft to fierce, a sense of urgency creeping into the mix as you’re both aware that you both need to get off before someone comes searching for Jungkook for his encore set.

“Couldn’t help but notice you starin’ at me through the set,” Jeongguk smirks sexily, knowing he has you exactly where he wants you. “Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

His hands roam all over your body as he kisses you hard. He starts at your shoulders, swiftly pulling down the thin straps of your tank top past the cups of your white lace bra before tugging the cups and feels as your tits release from the lace.

“M’sure plenty of girls were,” you’re quick to reply, voice airy with lust.

Jeongguk breaks the kiss, saliva keeping your mouth connected before he snaps it with his deft fingers and then using them to run light, teasing circles over your hardened nipples.

“Maybe, but none that I actually want. Thought you were so fucking pretty…”

You shiver and you know it’s not from the temperature of the chilly room you’re both currently occupying.

Before you’re about to remind Jeongguk about the lack of time you both have, the dull hum of intermission music vibrates the tiny closet and his lips are on your throat and all words die on your tongue as you hiss out in pleasure.

“Sensitive, yeah?” He asks, his breath warm against your skin as he decorates your skin in tiny nips and sucks.

“Oh…yes,” you confirm, your lids fluttering shut as he continues his assault on your neck.

With shaking hands, your arms trail down to the belt loops of his leather pants and you hook your fingers through and use it to your advantage to tug him closer to you. The feeling of Jeongguk grinning against your skin at your obvious desperation for him urges him on. With ease, he slots his thigh in between your legs and uses his stance as an advantage to pry your legs further apart.

Working your own fingers on the heavy buckle of his belt as Jeongguk continues his teasing on your cunt, you manage to pull the leather in between your fingers to open him up. Jeongguk tilts your chin with his palm to continue his assault on your neck and you retaliate by slipping your hand underneath his pants. Your fingers come in contact with his hardened cock and Jeongguk bucks his hips further into your touch.

Your heart thrums against your ribs when you feel his fingers inch their way below the hem of your pleated skirt to press into the warm of your cunt.

“Warm and wet,” he whispers against the shell of your ear; his voice is enough to cause the small hairs on your arms to rise. You don’t stop the whine that falls from your tongue as he presses two digits harder against your pulsing clit. “And so fucking sensitive, just for me, pretty girl.”

You get lost in the sensation of him starting to rub you over the flimsy cloth at your cunt.

All your inhibitions are lost as your want for the vocalist grows. “Jeongguk, please,” you beg for more…beg for him.

“Fuck, yes, plead for me,” Jeongguk almost starts begging with you. “Plead for me just like you did in your videos you dirty girl. You’re so bad, huh? Sending videos of your creamy pussy whilst I’m rehearsing. Tell me, did you satisfy yourself? Or am I just too good at pleasing you?”

“No, Jeongguk, I-nothing c-could ever compare to you at all. I was only mmm-missing you, ahhh,” your voice trails off when you feel his thumb and pointer finger pinch at your clit, lightly twists.” Your body grows hot and electrified, sweat building a glistening sheen on your body at the tirade your body is going through.

It only lasts for the briefest of moments before Jeongguk stops playing with you and instead pulls your thong to the side and tucks it in between the juncture of your groin and thigh before running his fingers between your now exposed folds, feeling how soaked you are and slides a thick finger into your soft core.

“Fuuuuck, you’re treatin’ me fucking good tonight, doll,” his voice rasps and you watch as he sinks to his knees in front of you. With ease, Jeongguk props your leg over his shoulder and buries his head in between your legs and his tongue is quick to drag through your pussy.

“Jeongguk, fuck, ohmygod,” the cry is muffled as he brings a big hand up to your lips and covers your mouth. Your eyes can’t help but roll back as your cunt flutters over the thick, long fingers that help place stars behind your closed eyes.

“M’gonna need you to be quiet, babydoll. I’ve still got more to give you... going to push a couple more fingers in ‘till I’m satisfied, okay?

Jeongguk makes quick work of his tongue on your cunt. A litany of fast strokes, skilled pumps of his tongue in your messy leaky hole and now with the added addition of two more fingers, now counting three. You feel full of him as he preps you for what you hope is yet to come. It’s almost second nature for him to know when to curl his digits inside of you, a skill you’re more than aware has come from the copious amount of women he’s had in his bed. But for tonight, he’s here with you and that’s what’s important. You moan when he gets knuckle deep and causes your breathing to become erratic as both your hands tangle into the messy roots of his shaggy locks.

It’s frightening how fast your orgasm approaches you. It’s almost like he's known your body for years, and in some way, he does. Whenever his band finds their way to your town, the tirade of sexting continues from where it left off from his last visit.

“Yes babydoll, just like that, use me.”

He fucks his fingers into you and his tongue flicks your clit, drinking down your honeyed slickness. You don’t stop your hips from chasing your high, letting your pussy grind further into his face, nudging at his nose and then stopping to fuck yourself on his pretty button feature.

Out of the corner of your eye, you find a mirror tucked away in the corner. With the closest bathed in darkness, you’re unable to see clearly in the mirror, but it’s clear enough that you can make out the both of you — your hips fucking Jeongguk, using your hands to guide him into delicious positions for your tongue.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t realise Jeongguk has removed a hand from your ass, his black chipped nail polished fingernails rakes down the skin of your thigh, hard enough to leave a sting of pleasurable pain as he continues down to the knee over his shoulder.

With shaking legs, your climax reaches its tipping point and you feel yourself come at an impressive force. Your body curls over in euphoria, fingers tightening its hold in his hair as a litter of curses fill the space between you both. Your head rolls back and your eyes tighten as nothing but black and speckles of white fuzzy stars to appear behind your eyes.

Jeongguk stands up, face wet from your cum coating his pretty features and he can’t help but swipe his tongue over his chin, making a scene of tasting the remnants of your arousal that he gave you.

“Aw, did my fingers fuck you dumb, hmm babydoll? Tell me how good it makes you feel,” Jeongguk demands from you as he practically laughs at your disorientation.

It isn’t fair, you’re still trying to come down from such a powerful climax that the best you can offer him is a string of useless babbled broken words.

His laughter continues and embarrassment settles in your chest. Nobody has ever made you come like that with their fingers alone and you’re both well aware of that fact.

“You look so fucking pathetic and pretty for me, pussy stretched over my bare fingers, making the sweetest sounds. Fuck, I should record you and put you on my next record and release it for the world to hear; you’d be my next breaking hit.” Jeongguk admits and lands a slap against your asscheek, the bite of his skin against yours causing you to hiss.

Eventually, you’re able to prop yourself up on your elbows on top of a stack of black equipment boxes that are kept behind the stages and cock your eyebrow up at him.

“Jeongguk, is that the best you’ve got?” You smirk, knowing you’re pouring gasoline all over an already raging fire.

Jeongguk walks towards you and traps you in between his body and the boxes you're using as a support beam. He lifts his hand in the air and the next thing you know, a dim light flicks to life and lights the closest in a warm yellow glow.

You’re able to take in the sight of the man in front of you for the first time since entering together. His once precise eyeliner and eyeshadow is smudged down his cheeks but in a way that makes him look fucking delicious. His chest is heaving with every shallow breath he takes and you’re awestruck at the beauty of him.

“Tell me what you want.” His eyes are darkened with unbridled lust as he wraps his tattooed hand around your throat and squeezes at the sides, watching your eyes roll back. Jeongguk truly does know your body like a well versed chorus and it makes your body thrum with want. “Good girls use their words.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

He towers over you easily as he stares down at you. His thumb glides over your lower lip and you open your mouth at his silent request. A train of spit is released from his mouth as he watches it slowly pool at the back of your mouth. Jeongguk follows his fluid and presses his lips to yours in a languid kiss, his tongue instantly twisting with yours nastily. You’re still able to taste your cum on his tongue and your pussy throbs for more of him.

It’s effortless how he breaks your lewd kiss and is able to manhandle your body, twisting you around so your back is facing him and he kicks apart your feet like he had done earlier.

“How badly do you want me to fuck you?"

You back your ass into the crotch of his leather pants as you feel him rustling behind you to remove his clothing just enough to release his cock. You move your hips against him, feeling his cock in between your asscheeks as you move to sensual rhythm. “So fucking badly. Remind me what your cock feels like.”

He grabs at your arm and pulls it towards his covered cock. You take the hint and wrap your hand around his twitching length, giving him a teasing squeeze when you feel it. You’re back at standing straight and you turn back around to face Jeongguk, peeking down towards cock.

“What is that?”

“This?” he pulls his boxers down by the hem just enough to reveal the blue jewel piercing. “I’m so glad you asked. I did this for you.”

“You got your dick pierced for me?”

He laughs. “No baby,” this time he pulls his black Calvin Kleins to his mid thighs and reveals one by one a new piercing decorated with a different colour gemstone until he reaches his tip, decorated with a prince Albert with pink gemstones on either side of the bar. “I got my dick pierced four times for you. Each one a favourite colour of yours so when I fuck you, you can watch as the colours disappear inside of you.”

Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the thought of how they’re going to feel as he fucks into you and you moan pathetically. You can’t look away from them. The pink prince Albert sits prettily at the top of his cock as a puddle of pearlescent precum allows the pink to look vibrant. Following that are three foreskin piercings, again all different coloured stones locking the metal bars in place. There is a purple set first, a green set in the middle and then your favourite colour at the end, nearing the base of his cock — blue.

He is so close to you that you can feel the warmth of his breath against the shell of your ear. “Now, let me use these how they were intended to be fucking used — to feel you wrapping yourself around my cock like an obident slut.” He presses a kiss against your shoulder and manhandles you back in place. “Bend over and spread yourself open,” he growls.

Doing as you’re told, your tits press into the cold metal boxes as you bend yourself to his liking before reaching behind you and spreading your ass open for Jeongguk, displaying your pussy, showing how wet and ready you are for him.

He uses this as an opportunity to bend down to your cunt and spits directly at your hole, watching as you clench around nothing in anticipation for his cock. You looked behind you to see him grab at his cock, lining himself up to your quivering cunt.

“Before I fuck you, there’s one rule you follow,” he groans.

“W-what?” You ask, your breathing all over the place as you wait somehow impatiently for the one thing you have waited six months for.

Jeongguk prods his tip at your entrance and watches as his cum coats your entrance, but never quite pushes himself in yet. “Every inch I fill you with, I want you to count every piercing you feel on my cock—”

“Fuck, Jeongguk!”

“There’s four in total, princess. Once you’ve counted the forth one, then you’ll know you’ve taken all eight inches of me. If you fail to count, I’ll pull out and he can start again until you get it right. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand,” you tell him.

Jeongguk places a hand at your hip and lines his cock up to you one more time. Slowly, he eases into you and your head falls forward against the boxes. The feeling of his prince albert piercing intruding your small hole causes goosebumps to rise and your breath to falter.

“Count. I’m not going to tell you again.”

With a shaky voice, you obey. “One.”

He stops for a moment, catching his own breath as the reality of the situation catches up with him as he takes in the fact he is back burying himself in his favourite pussy. Definitely one of the greatest parts of him touring the world is your cunt.

Jeongguk manages to compose himself and ease himself further into you, watching as he’s coming up to the first piercing on his foreskin. Just like the first one, he nuzzles the piercing over your clit and moves his hips in a way where it rubs over your clit. Your fist clenches as you feel him tease you and just as you’re about to urge him to go faster, he finally sinks the second bar into your snug core.

“T-two.”

This time, Jeongguk doesn’t waste any time and continues to sheath himself, feeling you wrapping around him. He can’t see you but he knows by how boneless your body has gone that you’re experiencing a whole new high. Better than any drug could give. He reaches piercing three, the green gem glinting from the small lightbulb above before disappearing fully.

He’s only three piercings in and you feel full already, unsure of how there can be any more of him for you to take. His cockhead already feels as if it’s touching your cervix. You know already that by the time the last cock piercing is in you that your tummy will be bulging from his size.

“Shit, there’s just one more. You’re doing so well for me, such a good girl for me,” Jeongguk purrs his affirmation and you perk up at his approval. “Wan’ you to touch yourself.”

You’re too blissfully fucked out already to be bratty, your mind too far in subspace. Your hand wanders in between your legs, towards your cunt. Pressing two fingers to your clit, you begin to rub in a near perfect circular motion.

“Please, Jeongguk, wanna be your g-good girl,” you hiccup.

Jeongguk uses your distraction as his opportunity to sink the last remaining piercing into your poor pussy, feeling you release more of your honey onto him, helping ease him into you just the way he likes.

Not even your favourite dildo can replicate the feeling that this is giving you right now. You have never felt pleasure like this nor do you think you ever will again until the next time you see him.

“F-four…”

He bends down over you to give you a moment to recuperate. His chest is against your back and he presses a kiss to the back of your head.

“Gukkie, move.”

With both of his hands now situated at either side of your hips, Jeongguk pulls out of you and you're forced to feel the jewellery leaving your cunt before he drills back into you, the metal piercings acting as ridges against your soft walls.

Wails and whimpers fall from your lips like a sinful prayer and right now Jeongguk truly did wish this was something he could record. Not for a record as he previously mentioned but for himself.

“More,” Jeongguk moans at your pleas and thrusts forward roughly.

Your heart beats in overtime to keep up with the excretion that your body is going through, sweat clinging to your skin and eyes rolling backwards as he begins a pace that has you seeing stars. His cock rubs so deliciously at your g-spot, every inch he pulls out of you is covered in a bubbly white consistency of your mixed cum.

“Wish you could see what I see, babydoll. Your cunt is such a perfect fit for my big cock.” He punctuates his words with a slap to your ass as he continues to fuck himself in and out of you at a ruthless pace.

You turn your head to the side to catch a glimpse of Jeongguk, and you don’t regret the image. His head is thrown back as he uses one hand to run through the strands of sweat slicked strands from his forehead as they merge together with the hair at the crown of his head. His face has darkened and his eyes are screwed tight in pleasure. You clench your cunt around him, enticing a sinful beautiful moan from him.

“I can take it, Jeongguk! Have always been able to look after you!” Your words aren’t lost on Jeongguk as he chases his high, taking you along for the ride too.

“Jeongguk, please, ohmy—, I’m gonna cum for you,” the words spill from your lips in a high pitched cry as your fingers work once more to rub yourself further to your hight. That’s all Jeongguk needs to hear. He places a hand on the centre of your stomach and the next thing he knows, he’s spilling his own seed into your spent cunt. Ropes of white fill you up and he feels as your stomach bloats just ever so slightly at the load he’s disposed of inside of you.

It doesn’t take you long to feel the frantic burning sensation inside of you snap at the feeling of Jeongguk’s cum filling you up completely before you’re now coming around his cock that is still snuggly stuffed inside of you to the hilt. Your body shakes and your legs are on the verge of giving out at the power of your orgasm that you quickly throw a hand around Jeongguk’s neck to pull at the strands to keep yourself upright.

Time passes as you stand there together, basking in the afterglow of rough sex that has definitely now made him late to the stage for his encore set. It doesn't look like Jeongguk is in any rush to go anywhere though as he whispers quiet little ‘shushes’ in your ear, knowing that you enjoy the little sounds of endearments he feeds you as you come out of your sub space.

Pressed against his soft, warm chest, you're able to hear the beating of his heart under his skin and your mind silently counts in time with every beat. He still has his arm around your waist as both of you still pant from your recent orgasms.

“You should go, Jeongguk, you have a show to finish,” you whisper, knowing he should leave you to finish what he started but you still don’t untangle yourself from his arms.

“I know. But I don’t want this to be the end. Once I get on that stage and finish my set, I’ll be dragged back into a van and taken to the next place when all I want is to be here with you.”

Warmth blossoms over your body at the admission and you can’t help but want more of him too. However, when you both started this, you knew of the implications and the risks.

Jeongguk eventually sits you down and reaches for his discarded band tee and dresses you in it, knowing you’ll keep it until the next time you see each other again. He dresses himself back up, pulling his pants up and redoing the buttons. He picks up the leather jacket and hands it to you with a kiss on top of your forehead.

His lips linger longer than any previous kiss like this he’s given you.

“Jeongguk, please go and finish your set.”

“I’ll see you next time, yeah?” And you nod your confirmation. You’ll always see him again.

He eventually pulls away from you and clicks open the door, slipping out and leaving you in the closest on your own.

“Jeongguk, where the fuck have you been? You’ve kept us waiting!” The voices dissipate the further they walk away. In your hazy, lust clouded mind you decipher that the voices to be his managerial staff or his fellow band members.

You sit by yourself in the small space which now feels too big with just yourself inside. The dull sound of drums and an electric guitar vibrates through the backstage area and you sit in your own company and listen to what you can of the music.

“Until next time.”

© 2023 taintedjeon on tumblr. all rights reserved. nobody has consent to modify, plagiarize and/or repost my content on any social media without my consent. they may also not distribute or translate any work to other site or blogs. anybody found doing so will be permanently blocked and reported.

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kotias · 8 months ago

Text

Ineffable Rockstars

Time to properly become creatively feral about the Ineffable Rockstars project with @vavoom-sorted-art, @searchingforakeythatdoesntexist , @daneecastle, @moonyinpisces and Stitcherydoo!

Summary of the story: human!AU, Crowley and Aziraphale are rockstars in their respective groups, Celestial Harmonies and Hell's Rebuke. Word is out that those two groups have bad history together, and therefore the two of them, while shamelessly talking to each other any festival they get to meet at, do have to be careful about being seen together by their own bands.

Summary of this excerpt: Aziraphale explains the story of the two bands to Crowley, who has arrived after everything went down and was kept in the dark by his mates.

Lyrics: written for the purpose of this fic.

Word count of the excerpt: 872 words

Excerpt:

Crowley sat down next to Aziraphale, whose eyes laid probably a second too long on those long fingers, on this chest showing so proudly from behind his open shirt- He coughed and drank a large gulp from the flute, clutching at the glass like a lifeline.

“It’s- it’s alright. Are you feeling comfortable? How was the concert?”

“Hah, acting like I didn’t see you in the audience, are ya?” Crowley asked with a smirk, and Aziraphale looked away, feeling the heat building up on his face.

“Well, we do need to keep it silent, don’t we?” he answered nonetheless with a coy smile, sipping on his drink.

“Why, though? It’s completely beyond me; Bee recruited me right after the split between Celestial Harmonies and Hell’s Rebuke, but there’s always been… you know, a feeling that it didn’t happen for no reason.”

“They haven’t explained it to you?” Crowley shook his head, and Aziraphale sighed. “No wonder you’re lost. Well, to put it simply… Hell’s Rebuke’s members were part of Celestial Harmonies, a few years ago.”

“Yes, I know that-”

“Let me talk, please; I would like to make sure we work with the same information.”

As he began explaining the official history of the two bands, he was cut by a thunder of clapping as the concert was coming to an end, and he and his counterpart felt compelled to stand up and join the applause.

When you reached Summer,

You lost sight of the star lights,

Questions died in your throat,

Cursing a future that is naught

And the night falling upon you

Left you laying awake with open eyes.

After two encore songs and enough clapping to make their hands and wrists sore, Crowley and Aziraphale walked towards another scene and stayed in relative distance, ensuring that they would hear each other. “So, you were saying, Hell’s Rebuke and Celestial Harmonies.”

“Ah! Yes; so, this is fairly public knowledge.” Crowley nodded impatiently. “At least, it is not something that we are actively hiding, neither of the two groups; somebody who knows how to Google us would be able to find this information.” Aziraphale frowned, crossing his arms. “Honestly, that is why it concerns me a little that you have not been informed of this; it is a fairly common question that people are trying out on us, asking about the other group to see how we react. Anyways-”

The vendors just a few metres from them had started cooking a few crepes, and Crowley did not miss the eyes darting towards them. “Want some? C’me on, it’s my treat,” he insisted as Aziraphale’s eyebrows raised -and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to refuse such an offer.

“Well, if you insist,” he answered, the corners of his lips curling up and his eyelashes fluttering; Crowley’s heart missed a beat, his fingers pressed against his flute, and he barely managed to keep a groan from reaching out of his mouth.

“You do have to tell me more, though; ‘specially if you think my ignorance could bite me in the ass.”

“Yes, of course.” Aziraphale’s voice dropped as they reached the line, keeping it to the level of a private conversation. “Bee and Gabriel were… an item.”

“Oh, excellent start. If that’s only the beginning, I might have to stock up on popcorn with that crepe of yours.”

“Heh, well, it might be one of the more interesting aspects of this entire story, so do not keep your expectations too high.”

“No, no, don't kill my hopes, now. Go on, tell me everything, I’m sure it will be full of riveting details, Bee’s never been good at keeping things tidy anyways.”

Aziraphale groaned. “Oh, you should see Gabriel when he gets involved… Ah- one crepe with sugar, thank you,” he said with a bright smile to the vendor. “Alright, so- long story short, the band was originally founded by the two of them; excellent musicians those two are, and the band did have quite the promising future before it. We started having a fairly good reputation.”

“Black coffee and a serving of fries. The name’s been around for a while now, that’s right- I remember seeing it ten years ago on some festival announcements in my city. Cash, thanks.”

“We have, yes. We were very local for a long while, but…”

“What changed?”

“Gabriel and the others were wishing to go professional; Bee and who are now Hell’s Rebuke were not willing to do that.”

“Ah, I see. Well, they didn't change much in that aspect,” Crowley mumbled sourly, extending his arms to grab the crepe and coffee. He gave the dessert over, then took his serving of fries, and they left the vendor’s stand. “Wait, where did you stand? You stayed with Celestial Harmonies, after all.”

“Hm, well…”

That did not sound like somebody who was fully happy to have stayed, Crowley thought, and he crept closer to Aziraphale, nudging him with his elbow. “Come on, spill the beans! Honestly, I’m looking to go in that direction, if there’s anything I should be aware of…”

“Being professional was, and still is, something that I hold dear,” Aziraphale explained, his slow speech feeling heavy, like he was choosing every word carefully.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #ineffable rockstars #human AU #fanfiction

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koqabear · 1 year ago

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Hiii congrats on 2k sol obsessed with everything you write!!!!💓 Could I request revisiting emo boy? Like what their relationship is like after and dates and how sex is like? Maybe beomgyu’s band really blows up and he’s quite busy, how does oc respond to this? And with smut? Tysm!!💝

playlist // beomgyu's encore outfit hehe // cont. of hey emo boy!

“The day of your one-year anniversary with Beomgyu was expected to be spent away from each other— but not if either of you can help it, far too in love to let anything get in the way of you two.”

bassist!beomgyu x fem!reader // wc: 6.6K (everyone stfu rn) // genre: band au, opposites attract trope, established relationship, smut, tooth rotting fluff tbh, MDNI.

warnings: they are in love and it’s fucking GROSS!! barely edited, the two have hella piercings hehe (bg: snake bites, tongue, eyebrow // mc: smiley & nipple piercings) pet names (sweet thing, pretty, etc.) use of the L word bc they are literally obsessed w/ each other.

smut warnings: hard dom! gyu, sub!mc, needy sex sorry 😖, marking, manhandling, dry humping, biting, breast play, possessiveness, unprotected sex, bg picks the mc up, scratching, dacryphilia, dumbification, a lot of kissing lol, degrading, slight praise, fingering, creampie, cum eating…? lmk if i should add anything !

Notes: happy (late) birthday to the fic that’s probably my peak… this story single handedly changed the course of my blog me thinks. thank you to everyone who was just as affected by emo gyu as i was.

Being in a committed relationship with Choi Beomgyu, bassist of Tomorrow x Together and an absolute unattainable heartthrob, was not very easy.

It was at first; with their blossoming career, it was more about the music than their looks. Fans were loyal simply because they liked their sound, their message, the way their concerts were filled with such energy and passion it left their hearts beating with adrenaline after— but of course, it’s hard to not notice the absolute eye candy on stage; low-lidded gazes, dark stage lights that barely highlighted their stunning features, and clothing that was just as alluring and flattering as the rest of them; inevitably, their popularity sky-rocketed, for better and for worse.

Beomgyu was left with more money than he knew what to do with. Most of the time, it was used to spoil you, his pretty girlfriend he brought with him everywhere because he was just too obsessed with you— it made his band members wonder if he simply had attachment issues by how much his world revolved around you. But no, you were just as bad as him; present during rehearsals, always in the studio to cheer them on or give them a second opinion on a new song; it wasn’t long before you ended up befriending the rest of them as well, a tight bond forming simply because of all the things you went through together.

As unfortunate as it was, they weren’t the only ones forced to bear with negative and hateful encounters from the public; while they had their experiences of being mistreated early in their career, you had to deal with immature or creepy fans that had taken a liking to harass you— inboxes on all social media platforms flooded constantly, your number even leaked once as you were forced to buy a new phone all together from how badly you were being spammed— Beomgyu had been quick to lash out and tell them to leave you alone if they didn’t want a lawsuit on their hands.

Overtime, they adjusted to their popularity. Schedules slowly became filled to the brim, their dream now a reality as they spent months on tour— and while you were more than happy and proud of them and their flourishing career, it’d be a lie to say it was all one happy and perfect life.

You hadn’t seen Beomgyu in ages— decades, centuries, eons— in other words, two weeks.

The band had more interviews and performances than you could keep up with; if they weren’t on some random talk show, they were at a photoshoot, getting interviewed for the next issue of a magazine you’d undoubtedly have on your coffee table the day it came out. Promotions, nights at the studio, it all added up— and before you knew it, your one year anniversary began to creep up, and all hopes to celebrate it properly dwindled down in your heart— but, having him here with you today was enough.

You didn’t blame Beomgyu; you weren’t angry or upset, because it was simply something neither of you could control. And though it did suck knowing you wouldn’t be able to spend such a meaningful day together, it felt a little better to know that you weren’t the only one hung up on it.

On the contrary— you think Beomgyu might be handling this worse than you.

“Baby, baby please,” he cries, refusing to let go of you and cuddling closer to you instead, a mess of tangled limbs and blankets as he cups your face fondly, “pleaaase I know you said I shouldn’t feel bad but please come on tour with us this week, I think I’ll seriously die if you’re not here this time.”

“Gyu, baby, I really shouldn’t—” you say quietly, only to get cut off by his excessive whining and teary eyes. His bottom lip is jutted out in a ridiculous pout, squeezing your cheeks and holding back a smile at the way your lips puff out as a result; you attempt to push him off you, only for him to retaliate by rolling entirely on top of you, a loud squeal escaping you at the feeling of his weight pressing you into the mattress, his stupid face hovering over yours as he continues to plead you quietly.

“Pleaaseee?” he whines, pressing his flat palms against your cheeks and getting your lips to puff out again; he ignores your half-hearted protests for him to get the fuck off, choosing to punctuate his every word with a kiss instead, his piercings a sharp contrast to his plump lips that crash against you with every word.

“Please?” kiss. “Won’t you,” kiss. “come with us?” another kiss.

“Please. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—”

He’s practically suffocating you at this point, refusing to pull away and mumbling the words against your lips, laughs breaking between the two of you as you yell at him to get off, that you can barely breathe with him on top of you; you’re pushing at his shoulders weakly as he continues to tease you, your unabashed laugh contagious as he quickly finds himself smiling as well— he only pulls away once he hears you yell a loud fuck, okay! Hovering over you with bright eyes and a wide grin.

His arms snake around your waist before he’s rolling over, successfully switching so that you’re the one on top of him— he ignores the loud and exaggerated sigh of relief you let out.

“It won’t make much of a difference though,” you say quietly, hiding in the crook of his neck as you confess your doubts, “You’ll be too busy and exhausted the whole day, I really don’t want me to be added to your list of concerns.”

You went on tour with him, once— but you learned it was better off to not be anywhere backstage with him during those times, the boy too concerned and constantly doting on you to remain focused; any mistakes he made hitting much harder, a subconscious pressure to be perfect and give his all only trifolded by your presence.

“What? No,” he says immediately, sitting back on his elbows and causing you to look up at him in response; his brows are furrowed and he seems a bit baffled by your comment, shaking his head adamantly to emphasize his point, “I like having you there. I know you like being there, I want you there— I wouldn’t be asking you to come with me if I thought you were a burden.”

He managed to pull out the exact words you were trying to skirt around— your face heats up at his reassurance, much too intimidated by the intensity of his gaze as you bury your face into his chest instead; his chest bounces from the laugh he lets out, flopping onto his back once more and hugging you close, bodies pressed flush against each other and one of his legs thrown around your waist in a childish attempt to pull you even closer.

“Plus, don’t you wanna visit Europe with me?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice as he feels you nod shyly; he knows just how much you enjoy the travel aspect to his career, constantly asking for pictures or to facetime while he’s gone, “I wanna show you all my favorite spots this time, and not through some glitchy facetime— I wanna spend time with you, sweet thing.”

“Ugh, shut up,” you groan, hitting his chest weakly as he simply laughs at you softly, “you’re so corny.”

“You love it,” he coos, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back, biting back a smile at the way he can feel your breath even out— you remain silent. Partly because you’re falling asleep from his touch, and partly because he’s right.

⤬⤬⤬

Europe is breathtaking— you’ve never been so grateful for Beomgyu’s stubborn, persistent mind.

The tour has gone as perfect as always, spending a few days at their shows before you simply resigned to stay at the hotel instead; after seeing that Beomgyu was so distracted trying to look for you during a show that he missed his cue (and played the notes wrong to another song) you found it better to wait for him and see him after instead— ready to help him wind down and relax after another energetic, adrenaline-inducing show.

Most nights consisted of you practically carrying him to the bathtub; cooing soft reassurance as he whined about how tired and sore he felt, shampooing his hair, massaging his scalp and tense shoulders— most of the time, he’d fall asleep then and there, and it’d be another hassle to wake him up and get him out. You’d lure him out of the tub and wait for him to change into your matching pajamas— hello kitty ones, his idea, not yours— and greet him in the bed with a warm embrace and lips that peppered kisses all over his face.

It was during these moments you found humor in the contrast of his stage persona to his true self; from his usual attire, chokers and ripped clothes, wardrobe consisting of black and multiple piercings that decorated his ears and face, your thumb brushing over his newest eyebrow piercing fondly— versus the man that slept soundly in your arms now, long hair tied back and cute pink barrettes clipping back his bangs, donned in hot pink fuzzy pajamas— and you’re sure that if his band members saw him like this, they’d never stop teasing him.

You didn’t have to wait long to confirm that thought; Beomgyu didn’t bother changing as he met up with the others in Yeonjun’s room for breakfast the next morning, tugging you along and remaining unfazed at the way his band members burst out laughing the moment he entered the room— you felt a bit bad at the way you found yourself laughing as well, even more so because you’re the only reason he’s found himself dressed like this. (But again, he was the one who bought these clothes in the first place.)

“Happy anniversary, you two,” Yeonjun muses, smiling at the way you’re the only one who seems to process that, chirping out a cheery thank you! as you proceed to drag Beomgyu to the couch, “I feel bad that we have a concert today, ___. As vomit-inducing as it is seeing you two, you do deserve to spend the day together.”

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, brushing his teasing comment off and holding back a smile at the way Beomgyu is still struggling to gain consciousness, more tired than you thought as he simply stares at his waffles for a moment before finally digging in, “at least he’s spending the day doing something he loves.”

“Gross,” Hueningkai says, scrunching his nose playfully before laughing at the glare you send him, “you two are so mushy, it’s painful.”

The rest of the day leading up to the concert is spent peacefully; once Beomgyu has gained enough coherence to fight back against the member’s jabs, he’s pulling you away to show you new sights and stores he discovered from his previous visits, spoiling you beyond belief and buying anything you look at for a second too long; you end up with more bags than you know what to do with, and Beomgyu refuses to let you carry a single one as he proceeds to take you one of his go-to restaurants, as he told you; saying he’s been wanting to bring you here since the moment he found it, smiling brightly when he sees you enjoying the food as much as he did.

To say he’s reluctant to leave you to go to the concert venue is an understatement; you think he might start crying at any given moment as he stares at you with shining eyes, unable to let go of your hand as he stands by the door of the hotel room— not quite ready to leave yet, but knowing that he must eventually as he chooses to bring you in for another slow, loving kiss instead.

“Are you sure you’re not coming tonight?” he asks you, trying to hide the sadness in his voice and failing miserably.

“And make you fuck up your setlist? I don’t think so,” you try to joke, only to panic slightly at the way his eyes gloss over; your hand immediately jumps up to cup his face, laughing softly at his expression as he simply pouts at you ridiculously.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you grin, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before you lean over to his ear, voice dropping to nothing but a whisper as you let your lips brush against his ear, “I’ll have a nice surprise for you tonight, so you better give your best show out there, okay?”

The low lilt of your voice is enough to have him perking up immediately; mouth parted slightly as he stares at you, unsure of what else to do but nod pathetically, knowing he won’t be able to control himself if he thinks about what you might have in store for too long.

With one last chaste kiss, he’s leaving— and only because Soobin was pounding at the door, telling him they’d be late if he didn’t go out this instant— you think he might start crying as he gives you one last pouty glance, waving to you sadly before he slips out the door.

You’re left alone, the room suddenly much lonelier and quieter than it was a few seconds ago— and you laugh, checking the time and running to your suitcase to get your makeup and outfit for tonight.

A revealing shirt, a mini-skirt that’s a bit alarmingly short— you’re pulling out a sparkling, pink outfit like it’s nothing, throwing it all on and doing your makeup as you check the time absentmindedly; your phone lights up while you’re in the middle of doing so, and a notification reads that the staff are waiting for you outside to take you to the venue once you’re ready.

Beomgyu loves performing knowing you’re in the audience more than anything; it’s something he’s made blatant to you, knowing that despite his mistakes, despite his small distractions, his energy always goes out the roof the moment he spots you there. So you knew how distraught Beomgyu would be to hear that you’re not going to the show tonight despite being able to, but the thought of surprising him is much more enticing than you’d like to admit.

With one last check of your appearance in the mirror, you grab a jacket before you go; Beomgyu’s favorite oversized zip-up, the clothing item a stark contrast to the rest of your feminine and bright attire— and you smile, adjusting the purse on your shoulder before you’re off to the hotel lobby, where the staff are waiting and ready to escort you safely.

The venue is almost full by the time you get there; you’re escorted straight to your barricade seats front and center, smiling shyly and waving at fans that seem to recognize you; your face feels hot and you walk faster at the way they get excited at the sight of you, not used to the fame that comes with being Beomgyu’s girlfriend— hell, you really don’t know how Beomgyu does it.

You’re more than relieved once the concert begins, any attention that still lingered on you immediately getting stolen by the boys that appeared on stage; you winced slightly at the loud screams all around you, unable to help the way you eventually joined in— morphing into another fan in the crowd, the venue much too dark for any of the boys to recognize you just yet.

They looked stunning in their concert outfits; the professional, matching and dark outfits tailored perfectly to each member, intricate with chains and rosaries and pretty layers. Your eyes widen as you watch Beomgyu walk to his position, taking note of his hair that has now been dyed back to black— you hadn’t realized how long it’d gotten until now, the layers framing his face and falling into his eyes as he goes to push back his bangs with a delicate hand.

There are no introductions tonight— the music begins immediately, loud and abrasive and making the crowd jump along excitedly, screaming the lyrics and reaching out to try and get one of the members to pay attention to them— on the contrary, you try to remain hidden, looking away and bowing your head every time Beomgyu’s gaze sweeps around your area.

God, you wish Beomgyu didn’t turn into such a ditz whenever he spotted you in the audience— because then you’d be able to enjoy more of their concerts, addicted to the borderline euphoric feeling you get from attending them, only for it to be multiplied as your eyes catch onto your boyfriend performing, your heart pounding against your chest at the sound of his voice ringing out into the venue— a surge of pride and love fills you as a grin spreads on your face, and it isn’t until you notice a member walking around that you’re able to look away from him.

Looking up, you make eye contact with Hueningkai.

His mischievous smile and raised brows are immediately returned with a violent shake of your head; telling him to not say anything to Beomgyu, rubbing your hands together pleadingly the moment he glances back at the said man— then he turns to you, sending you a playful wink before he’s off to another section, not without sending you one last teasing grin and a wave; you’re glancing at Beomgyu in a panic, unsure if he’s spotted you, only to be relieved at the sight of him too concentrated on playing to even look up at the crowd.

It isn’t until the encore that they’ve all begun to move around, (save for Taehyun and Soobin, bound to their instruments as they’re resigned to simply wave at the crowd when they can) changed into more comfortable outfits during a small intermission— Beomgyu is decked in baggy jeans and an equally baggy shirt, long hair messy and makeup smudged as he walks along the stage, smiling and waving at fans that reach out for him— he plays his bass so effortlessly as he does, truly mesmerizing as he stops a few times to interact with fans; the sight has your heart fluttering hopelessly.

But the closer he gets, the more you’re buzzing with nervous energy. Gripping onto the barricade tightly, having stood up long ago with the rest of the fans that are eager to get their attention. Beomgyu’s eyes scan through the crowd thoroughly, smiling cutely and returning hearts until he spots you.

He freezes entirely.

He’s no longer playing bass— he’s just standing there, in complete shock as he stares at you. You can only muster to give him a sheepish wave, an uncontrollable grin on your face as you laugh at his dumbfounded expression, trying to yell at him to go back to playing. But he doesn’t, and you’re jumping slightly at the way he takes off his bass and jumps off the stage, security frantically following behind as he rushes over to you.

His hands are on your face and he’s pulling you in for a kiss quicker than you can process; you hear the screams of the crowd around you, but Beomgyu’s got you in his hold so tightly that you’re unable to pull away, left to give in and melt against him as he kisses you for a little longer. Your face feels as though it’s on fire by the time he’s pulled away, his own alight entirely with joy as he grins at you, your head still in his hands as he leans against the barricade excitedly— you think he might just jump over it any moment now.

“You’re here?” he says exasperatedly, eyes scanning you frantically as though he were imagining you, “why didn’t you tell me, you should’ve— I would’ve—”

“Beomgyu,” you cut him off, placing your hands over his and laughing at the way he can only stutter stupidly, brushing his hair behind his ear fondly— watching the way his eyes crinkle cutely as he smiles, your own sweeping over the array of piercings that decorate him, hello kitty earrings glinting under the light— and pry his hands off your face, ignoring the pout he sends you as you scold him instead. “Get back on stage!”

Your words seem to snap him out of his reverie; his head is whipping back to look at the stage, at the way his friends can only laugh at him teasingly and yell at him to get back here— the way Yeonjun yells directly into the mic is slightly embarrassing, shrinking at the way all eyes are on you as the man’s words ring out the venue— Beomgyu, get the fuck back here!

He’s only able to leave with one last chaste kiss— the crowd is screaming at the sight, and you’re resisting the urge to cover your face in weak hopes that it could take all this attention off you— but you’ll bear it, especially with the way Beomgyu mouths a cute I love you! before he’s jumping back on stage.

The poor boy is unable to take his eyes off you for the rest of the night— but on the bright side, there are no missed cues or wrong notes played. He’s just entranced with you for the rest of the encore, his energy seemingly replenished with the way he jams out to the music; mouthing the lyrics even when it’s not his part, maintaining eye-contact with you during songs he knows you’re particularly fond of— and suddenly, the idea of spending his anniversary at a concert isn’t as depressing as it was earlier tonight— because now, he had you by his side.

⤬⤬⤬

“Beomgyu— Beomgyu please, not here…” you whine, unable to do much but bite your lip and swallow back whines that threaten to escape you, left to Beomgyu’s mercy as he immediately led you to his dressing room after the show— the said man is much too focused on kissing and marking your neck to listen, soft hair brushing against your face as he pulls you flush against him; back pressed against the wall, arched prettily from the way his hands snake around your waist and press your lower half against his— you’re holding back a groan at the way he’s already hopelessly hard against you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be coming? Hmmm? Just wanted to be a tease? Was this your little surprise?” he asks, biting at your skin and huffing out a laugh at the whine that escapes you; your hands are gripping onto his shirt tightly, fisting it in your hands and wrinkling the material as he lets his teeth sink slightly near your collarbones, “god, you look so good tonight, you’d really expect me to be able to hold myself back?”

His hands are wandering down your waist; over the swell of your ass, fiddling with the hem of your mini-skirt before he’s venturing under it— feeling the way you shiver against him the moment his hands squeeze at the soft flesh, fingers decorated with rings cold against your skin as he comes back up to kiss you. It’s rough and desperate, lip rings scratching as he kisses you with such hunger it leaves you breathless; he grinds his cock desperately against you, eliciting a small gasp from you and allowing him to slip his tongue inside— the piercing that decorates it scrapes along your mouth, unable to help the way your knees weaken at the feeling of him— his touch is everywhere, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded as you can only melt against him, allowing him to press you flush against the wall with his own body; your miniskirt is riding up along your hips as he situates himself between your legs, panties already a mess as he begins to rut his cock into you.

“Are you sure you want to wait now, pretty?” he asks, looking down at you with low-lidded and fucked out eyes— he punctuates his words with a particularly harsh thrust, laughing at the way you yelp and tighten your hold on him, “I could stop everything right now, send you back to the hotel like this and make you wait, just like you said— is that what you want?”

Oh, he’s cruel— even more so because you’re left shaking your head no deliriously, your mind fogged with such need that your eyes are glossing over at the very thought of not having Beomgyu inside you right now; your voice is pathetic as you plead Beomgyu to finish what he started, throwing a hand over his shoulder and entangling your fingers into his hair as you pull him back into you— he’s more than eager to return the kiss, tilting his head and pressing himself more against you as a hand reaches down to your thigh; grabbing the back of your knee, guiding you to hook it around his waist as he begins to rut into you mindlessly.

“So cute, my pretty girl,” he mumbles against your lips, eyes trailing down your low-cut top to spot his favorite zip-up, a smile tugging at his lips as he merely sends you a cute smile, “did you miss me that much? Already so needy from a little bit of kissing— god, I love you so much…”

You think he’s mostly talking to himself at this point— spewing nothing but filth as his hands shove your shirt over your chest, grinning as he remains impatient enough to not take off a single item of clothing, choosing to push tug your bra down harshly before he’s swooping down to mark your breasts with a cruel smile.

“Looked so fucking hot out there, just made me wanna take you backstage and fuck you there,” he confesses, listening to the choked whine you let out, his pierced tongue playing with your hardened nipples, leaving them swollen and sensitive. He’s looking up at you with doe eyes that contrast greatly with the way he sticks his tongue out for you, letting you watch the way he circles and toys with the cute jewelry he bought for you earlier today, pulling away with a coy smile and leaving them soaked with his spit— he blows softly on them, watching with tentative eyes as you keen at the feeling.

“God, you know I’ve been wanting to do this every time I see you at one of our shows? To make sure that everyone that looks at you knows just who,” he rolls his hips into you, nice and slow and letting you feel the length of his cock press against you as you flutter your eyes shut from pleasure, “you’re here for?”

“Fuck, gyu,” you pant out, snaking your hands under his shirt and up his back, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling him into you— as if there’s still space between the two of you, as if you’d die if you weren’t touching him at all times, “‘m only yours, only want you…”

He’s sneaking a hand down to move your panties to the side, the two of you much too desperate to shed off any layers— and as you listen to the clinking sounds of his belt, undoing his jeans and pulling out his hardened cock, you busy yourself by sucking and biting at his neck, listening to his stuttered breaths as you suck and tease at the joint of his neck, his most sensitive spot as you bite at it playfully— you’re only pulling away at the feeling of Beomgyu grabbing at you hair and tugging you away, letting out a baffled laugh at the satisfied look you give him in return.

“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” you coo out softly, grinding your pussy slowly against Beomgyu’s tip that teases your entrance, your mouth falling open at the feeling of him mirroring the action, running along your folds and swiping at your clit, “all mine, my pretty boy…”

He laughs fondly against your lips at that— bringing you in for a slow kiss, feeling the way your mind goes blank the moment his tip slowing enters you; he’s swallowing a soft moan from you as he bottoms out slowly, keeping himself deep inside and grinding his hips slowly against yours— and he stays there, a tease like always as he watches your brows furrow and your lips pout, telling him softly to move, to do something.

“Mmmh, all yours,” he mumbles softly, pulling out slowly to let you feel the way every vein runs against your walls, clenching and fluttering against his length as he hisses at the feeling, “I’m yours, belong only to you, fuck…”

He’s not able to keep this agonizingly slow pace up for long— as much as he wants to tease you, to have you crying and pleading for him to fuck you stupid, he isn’t fairing that well himself— so it isn’t long before he’s beginning to snap his hips into you, cock curving and aiming for that spot that has your knees buckling, pretty nails digging into Beomgyu’s shoulders and biting at the skin in order to try to stabilize yourself.

“Such a perfect cunt— fuck, ah, just wanna fill you up, wanna see it dripping down those pretty thighs— stupid fucking skirt can’t hide anything, ugh—” his voice is deep and breathy as he continues to talk into your ear, his hands sliding down to the swell of your ass before he’s holding it there— lifting you up, forcing you to hook your legs around his waist as you’re left to his mercy; his chest is pressed flush against yours as he fucks you, and you can only bury your face into his neck to try and muffle your sounds, the rough way you bounce from his thrusts causing your nails to slip and scratch down his back— he hisses at the feeling, only to be spurred by the stinging sensation it leaves behind.

“So loud, shit,” he laughs meanly, grinning at the way you only bury your face into him more to try and muffle your sounds, “want everyone to hear you? All the staff, the members— I’m sure they’d like to see what a pretty doll you are for me.”

You shake your head at that— but your body gives you away as your cunt clenches around him pathetically, the wet sounds of skin against skin filling the room and undoubtedly filtering outside— but you remain persistent to keep your moans to yourself, choking back on sounds of pleasure as Beomgyu only begins to fuck you rougher; your silence is a challenge, one he’ll gladly take as he begins to roll his hips into you just the way you like it.

“Come on pretty, I wanna hear you,” he purrs into your ear, a hand snaking around to rub at your clit while the other remains firm on your ass, “don’t you feel good? I can make you feel even better— so, so so good, just let me hear your cute little sounds.”

You’re playing hard to get. And Beomgyu takes absolute pleasure in it, watching the way you shake and dig your nails into him helplessly, your body being wound up from how good he fucks you; your thighs are sticky and shining from your arousal, poorly concealed pleasure only fueling Beomgyu’s ego further as he reaches up to tug your head out from it’s hiding spot.

He thinks he might just cum on the spot; your makeup is ruined, tears of mascara running down your cheeks as you merely let out soft hiccups of moans, your lips parted and brain completely empty as you stare at him— he smiles at you in return, capturing your lips in another kiss as his hand begins to trail down; toying with your breasts, nimble fingers pinching and rolling your nipples as you jolt and whine into his mouth at the sensation.

“Gyu— gonna— need to, ah…!” the choked whimpers you let out aren’t enough for Beomgyu, and he only slows down at your request; fresh tears stream down your cheeks as you plead softly, breathy voice barely above a whisper as you whine quietly to keep going, don’t stop, please gyu, pleeaaase….

“Hmm? What’s that? I can’t hear you, baby,” he murmurs softly against your lips, slowing to nothing but a grind as he presses himself against you— pelvis grinding against your clit, the feeling making you tremble as you dig your nails into his shoulders once more. “Come on sweet thing, tell me what you need.”

You’re telling him— begging, pleading, breathy whimpers and soft cries escaping you as you roll your hips into him, biting your lip and sighing exasperatedly at the way he simply watches you with dark eyes, slowing down until he’s simply bottomed out inside you.

“What do you want?” he asks softly, breathy voice intertwined with a lilt so sweet you’d almost think he pities you— and by the way he’s looking at you, he just might, swollen lips caught between his teeth to try and suppress a smile. You’re still weak and quiet as you try to voice your wants, looking at him through wet lashes, a pout on your face as your hands run absentmindedly up and down his back.

“Wanna cum?” he coos, pretty hand reaching down to circle and pinch your clit teasingly, “Want me to fuck you? Fill you up? Hmmm?”

All you can do is nod along to his words stupidly— and obviously, it’s the very last thing your boyfriend wants, abandoning your clit and reaching up to grab your face roughly; fingers digging into your cheeks, forced to look at him as he merely glares at you and speaks through gritted teeth.

“Tell me,” he says, voice sharp and dangerous as he narrows his eyes, “use your words— or, don’t tell me I’ve fucked you dumb already.”

He’s unhooking one of your legs from his waist at that; you’re stumbling slightly, leg too weak to let you stand as you merely cry at him to wait, bringing him closer to you in fear that he might pull out and leave you like this— his fingers still dig into your cheeks as you speak, drool building up at the corners of your pouty lips as you stutter out exactly what you want— what he wants to hear.

“Want you to fuck me, use me— wanna cum, please,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as he shakes your head teasingly, as though to say and what else? “Want you to cum inside, baby please, just wanna feel good—”

You’re rambling at this point. But Beomgyu enjoys it nonetheless, telling you to keep going as he begins to move again; slowly at first, allowing you to feel the drag of his thick cock against your walls as your words become stuttered through weak moans, the sight making your boyfriend laugh as he slowly begins to pick up his pace.

“Like it when I fuck you like this, yeah?” you’re nodding in confirmation to his words; staring at him with pleading eyes, whimpering a soft harder, faster, that the man is immediately obliging as he coos at the way you yelp at the sensation. “Want it harder? Hmmm? Want me to fuck you ‘till you can’t even walk—? Have to carry you out of here, let everyone see the way your sweet cunt is filled up by me?”

All you can do is nod to his words at this point; whimpering a weak yes, yesyesyes, want you to fill me up, use me, more more please—

Everything crashes down on you unexpectedly; your eyes are shutting tight and you think you might just black out as your orgasm hit you suddenly, cunt squeezing and fluttering around Beomgyu’s cock as he groans at the sensation— he lets you ride it out, cooing soft praise into your ear before he’s pulling you in for another kiss; you’re barely able to kiss him back, moaning into his mouth and letting him do whatever he wants with you.

It isn’t long before he’s cumming inside you as well; you’re so tight he can barely move, your cute whimpers and warm cunt guiding him through it as he fucks into you slowly, making sure none of his release slips out as he continues to fuck you, even after he’s become horribly sensitive. Then he’s still, lips still on yours and arms wrapped tightly around you as though he’s afraid to let you go.

“You okay?” he asks quietly after a moment, still lingering close to you, taking in your appearance with tentative eyes. You nod softly, still attempting to catch your breath as you chest heaves against his; he huffs out a soft laugh, caressing your cheek fondly before he’s going to fix your clothes— your mini-skirt remains up on your hips, his cock still bottomed out inside you as he coos about how good you were for him, caressing any skin he can get his hands on (which is a lot, considering your wardrobe) with a smile.

“Pretty girl, so perfect,” he coos, finally pulling out and tucking himself in before he’s going to fix your clothing; not without slipping his fingers inside your cunt one last time, watching with hungry eyes as you curl into him and cry that you’re sensitive— he’s only satisfied after his cum is left snug in your pussy, smiling darkly at the way he brings his fingers up to your mouth for you to clean— you do it without any hesitation, and Beomgyu swears he might just be getting hard again.

“Love you so much, thank you for coming to see me today,” he says instead, bringing you in for a warm hug and a loving kiss; you merely hum tiredly in response, hands slipping out from his shirt only to be thrown over his shoulders leisurely.

Your face feels hot the moment he’s trying to get the two of you to leave back for the hotel— because your legs are absolutely not cooperating with you.

“Holy shit, I was joking about that whole fuck you till you can’t walk thing,” he laughs, only to get cut of by the way you hit him in response— he’s letting out an exaggerated whimper at that, rubbing his arm and telling you sorry, sorry baby, with a cute pout.

“Ugh, I don’t want anyone to see me like this, fuck,” you mourn, only for Beomgyu to pull you into his side firmly, sending you a smile that’s not as reassuring as you wish it was.

“I’m sure no one will notice,” he says simply, swinging the door open and immediately being met with Soobin passing by.

He slows down at the sight of you two, glancing at your appearances briefly before he keeps walking.

“Try to keep it down next time please,” he yells out, turning the corner and disappearing from your sight before you can retaliate. You feel slightly mortified by his words, but Beomgyu isn’t affected in the slightest as he leans over to murmur softly into your ear.

“Should we continue this at the hotel, pretty?”

You don’t answer his question. But he already knows the answer, sending you a giddy smile and intertwining his fingers with yours as he leads you to where the staff car is waiting for you two— and you hold back a smile of your own as you trail (limp, kinda) behind him. It’ll be a long night, but you couldn’t ask for a better way to spend your anniversary, no matter how unconventional it is.