#choi soobin ff

[calumcxke]

DISTRACTION

SUMMARY: staying over at your best friend’s apartment was nothing new to you- but when an unexpected thunderstorm strikes, soobin comforts you in his own way.

soobin x fem!reader

WARNINGS: reader is scared of thunder, slight panic attack, soobin has a mirror on his ceiling, dom!soobin, sub!reader, dry humping, fingering, oral (f rec.), overstimulation, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, mirror sex, slight exhibitionism (hueningkai is still in the apartment)

wc: 9.1k

notes! this was my friend’s idea (@bluetyunhour) originally that she came up with for me since i have a fear of thunder.. this is also barely proofread,,, sorry!

you sighed quietly as you knocked on the door. your muscles were aching, and you swore you could feel your head beginning to pound. the door opened slowly, revealing a sweat-clad hueningkai standing on the other side.

“y/n!” he opened the door more, allowing you to walk inside. you shot him a tight lipped smile, walking over to the couch and letting your bag drop.

“where is everyone?” you ask, stretching your hands above your head.

“yeonjun’s out. soobin’s in his room,” he replied, walking over to the couch before plopping down. you nodded and thanked him before heading off to soobin’s room.

opening the door quietly, you were met with a relatively dark room, mostly lit up by the colors emanating from soobin’s pc.

“soobin?” you poked your head through the door, watching as he looked up from his game, a smile growing on his face the second he recognized you.

“hey.”

“hi,” you stepped inside, shutting the door behind you.

“how was school?” he paused his game, his full attention on you for the time being.

“so tiring. i need to relax,” you sighed, the pounding in your head finally becoming noticeable.

soobin stared at you for a second before chuckling lightly.

“you can take a nap in my bed,” soobin spoke, “i’m gaming with beomgyu, but i’ll try and be quiet.”

the exhaustion in your eyes was evident, and you took him up on his offer happily, practically ready to just sleep on the ground at that point.

“oh, wait,” he stood up quickly, heading over to his tv to turn it on, “is jujutsu kaisen okay with you?”

you laughed quietly, getting situated under his covers, “i’m gonna be sleeping through it. put whatever on, soob.”

“whatever you say,” he smiled, walking back to his pc, “sleep well.”

you hummed in response, turning over to your side as you snuggled up, letting your eyes flutter shut as sleep began to envelop you.

you were grateful for this tradition. getting to hang out with your best friends after a long day of school. it didn’t matter if everyone was busy, just being able to be around them and enjoy each other’s company was enough for you.

you had to admit, ever since you started working along with going to college it got much harder to hang out, but you would always find ways to hang out with them multiple times a week, sometimes crashing on the couch overnight before leaving early for class the next day.

while you slowly lost consciousness, you listened to jujutsu kaisen playing quietly in the back, and the sounds of soobin tapping his keyboard as he talked with beomgyu quietly.

-

you woke up a good hour and a half later, feeling a bit more well rested.

you slowly sat up in bed, stretching your arms above your head as your eyes focused on soobin across from you.

all you could see from where you sat was the back of his head, and sometimes a glimpse of his side profile if he turned his head a bit.

you were pretty bored at this point, not knowing what else to do and deciding you wanted to spend time with your best friend.

soobin wouldn’t mind if you asked him to hang out, right?

you slowly crawled to the edge of the bed, calling out his name quietly.

“soobin.”

he didn’t hear, too engrossed with his game as he continued talking to beomgyu and hitting keys on his keyboard.

you reached your hand out to tap his shoulder lightly, “soobin.”

he jumped slightly at the action, pausing his game to turn around and look at you, slowly removing his headphones as he gave you an expectant look.

“what’s up?” he asked, fluffing his hair with one hand.

you cleared your throat, your eyes flickering across soobin’s face, suddenly aware of how attractive he really was. you blushed slightly, trying to not let it show how much of an effect he had on you. something about his hair in the dim light was getting to you.

“i was just, uhm.. bored,” you spoke quietly, now feeling embarrassed for pulling him out of his game to cater to your needs.

his face softened a bit, looking at his game before looking back at you, “you wanna hang out?”

“only if you want,” you sat back on your heels, trying not to look too desperate, but you were really bored and fiending for some attention at this point. and your eyes might have kept wandering to soobin’s lips a bit too much, or maybe it was you following his hand with your eyes as he brushed back his hair.

what you didn’t know was that he noticed everything, every little glimpse and action. he knew you were into him. but he wasn’t going to point that out.

“i would, but me and beomgyu still have a few hours of gaming left,” he responded with an apologetic look, trying to ignore the way your face visibly dropped at his sentence.

“how many?”

“like, uh, three,” he said, an embarrassed look on his face. you glanced at the clock to see it was already 10pm.

“oh, okay,” you responded, slowly beginning to scoot yourself back on the bed, “i’ll just go back to sleep.”

“you sure?” he turned around more, reaching for the tv remote, presumably ready to give it to you.

“yeah, i’m sure. don’t worry about it, i’m still tired anyway,” you yawned, lying back down and turning on your side, “i’ll talk to you later. night, soob.”

he hummed out a goodnight in response, before putting his headphones back on and turning around.

you were disappointed, you weren’t even going to lie. were you less important than the game to him? soobin would usually drop whatever he was doing to hang out with you when you came over, so of course you felt a bit discouraged right now.

but a part of you felt guilty for wanting his attention all to yourself. he was just trying to talk to beomgyu, and they deserve that without you whining. you decided to not ponder on it too much, and honestly soobin’s sheets were too comfortable for you to stay awake any longer. your thoughts became muddled as you once again let your eyes shut and went to sleep.

-

you woke up to the smell of ramen invading your nostrils. you really thought you were imagining things at first until you realized the smell was in fact right next to you.

you opened your eyes to see a large bowl of ramen, and a plate of kimchi sitting next to it. you smiled brightly as you took in the smell more, letting the comforting smell warm you up.

your mouth was watering as you took the first bite, letting out an audible hum and savoring the taste.

you figured soobin had to have made it at some point while you were asleep, looking up to see him taking a sip from his drink, head thrown back as he was close to finishing the bottle.

your eyes flickered to his adam’s apple, maybe staring for a bit longer than you needed to.

you silently thanked him in your head, not wanting to disrupt his gaming anymore, before taking another bite of the yummy dinner.

you didn’t even know if it could be called dinner anymore considering it was 11pm, but you were hungry.

you got lost in thought, eyes focusing in on soobin’s hands moving quickly across the keys, letting your gaze move to his head, watching his side profile become illuminated by his pc when he turned his head slightly.

it was eerily quiet in the room. soobin had turned the tv off at some point, the only light source in his room being his pc.

once again, your eyes dropped to his hands. long, skinny fingers hitting the keys quickly, sliding all over the keyboard as he typed a message out. a part of you felt bad for staring, but what could you say? soobin was attractive. anyone could see it.

you were lucky enough to call him your best friend, but there were certain points you wished you could be able to call him more.

small taps broke you out of your daydreaming, looking out the window to your left to see rain hitting the glass.

well, that’s amazing.

you didn’t remember seeing that it was gonna rain at all, and it was picking up pretty quickly, the soft taps on the window turning into fat droplets pelting the glass.

you grabbed your phone off the bedside table, opening the weather app only to see that it was going to be raining for the next few days.

and not just raining. storming. there was supposed to be thunder, lighting, and flash floods. you quickly accepted the fact you weren’t going home tonight, and if it was going to be storming like they were predicting you probably weren’t going to be leaving the apartment until it was over.

you slowly put your phone back down, going back to slowly eating your food, this time deciding to take a small bite out of the kimchi lying next to your ramen.

your attention was taken away from the food when you heard soobin shuffling in his seat.

he had turned around to look at you, seeming surprised you were awake.

“you’re up?”

“yeah, uhm, i just woke up like five minutes ago,” you responded, taking another bite of kimchi, “thanks for the food.”

he smiled, “it’s no problem, i felt bad for not being able to hang out. beomgyu just really wants to play games tonight since he’s not free any other day.”

“no, don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” you were still slightly disappointed, but you weren’t going to let that show.

“also, it’s supposed to be raining for the rest of the night, i guess it’s gonna storm pretty bad,” you added.

soobin turned to look out the window, nodding at the sight, “well, you can sleep in here then, it’s gonna be too cold on the couch.”

you shook your head softly. the couch was already pretty cold on normal nights, so you didn’t even want to imagine how cold it was going to be if you slept on it tonight. you were glad soobin was offering up his bed, but that meant he was going to be cold.

“i don’t want you sleeping on the couch either,” you spoke quietly.

he tilted his head at you, lips pouting a bit, “who said i was sleeping on the couch?”

oh.

oh.

your lips parted into a small ‘o’ as you processed his words, just nodding at him. you were totally fine. you could do this! sharing a bed with soobin? your best friend? no big deal. you looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers as you bit your lip, trying to ignore the feeling of soobin’s eyes on you.

soobin watched you for a bit, waiting for your reply which never came. he slowly turned around and went back to his game, unpausing it to join beomgyu again.

you picked up your phone once again, confirming to yourself that it was going to be storming. you put your phone down, deciding the best thing to do at this point was sleep, you hated storms, you didn’t wanna have to deal with them and considering you left your headphones at your house you had nothing to help you.

slowly climbing out of bed, you trudged over to soobin, watching the small smile on his face as he chuckled at something beomgyu said. you tapped him on his shoulder lightly and he turned to look at you quickly, telling beomgyu to hold on a second.

“yes?” he asked, taking in the tired look in your eyes.

“i’m gonna go to sleep, just wanted to let you know,” you answered, giving him a small smile before heading back to the bed.

“goodnight, sleep well,” was all he said in response before turning back to his game.

as you climbed under the covers you couldn’t help but feel even more disappointed at the fact soobin was once again choosing his game over you.

what you didn’t know was that soobin felt terrible and he wanted more than anything to spend time with you. if you had come on any other day, it would’ve been perfectly fine. but him and beomgyu haven’t been able to hang out like this in weeks and he wanted to be able to spend time with his other best friend too. with the screen going black on his pc in between levels, he saw your pouty frame sitting in bed and holding onto his bunny plushie, before sighing and finally lying down.

he slowly lifted one of his headphones off of one of his ears, just barely enough so he could hear the outside noise well. just in case you needed anything, he would be able to hear clearly.

you were getting more comfortable in soobin’s sheets, nearly on the edge of passing out. sleep was starting to reach out for you, ready to envelope you in it’s soft embrace, lulling you off into dreamland. you snuggled your face further into soobin’s pillow, consciousness slipping further away from you- then a strike of thunder.

a loud gasp tore itself from your throat as you shot upright, gripping onto the sheets beside you as you tried to catch your breath. almost as fast as you shot up, soobin was spinning around in his chair to see your shaking frame.

“y/n? are you okay? what happened?” he questioned, staring at you with wide eyes.

“nothing, nothing,” your voice shook as you answered, “just a bad dream.”

you weren’t entirely sure if he believed you, he didn’t say anything for a couple seconds and just stared at you, and all you could do was hope another boom of thunder didn’t reverberate through the sky.

“are you sure?” he pressed further.

“i’m fine, soobin. don’t worry about me,” you smiled, a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach your eyes, but it was enough for soobin to nod at you and turn back around towards his game, still being sure to keep one headphone off of his ear.

letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you slowly situated yourself back under the covers, trying to calm your breathing while snuggling further into soobin’s covers.

another boom or thunder shook the sky, your eyes scrunching shut as you held on tighter to soobin’s blanket, trying to ignore the loud noises. every time you were calming down more, another loud boom would follow, the sound filling your eardrums and causing panic to rise within you.

your knuckles were turning white from the hold you had on the sheets, feeling tears well up in your eyes as your breathing quickened. you just wanted the noise to stop. you hatred thunder.

ever since you were a little kid, you had memories of hiding under tables to get away from the thunder, letting out loud, wailing sobs as you clung onto your mom after she dragged you out, crying that you were scared of the loud noises in the sky. it was a fear that never truly went away, always sure to carry headphones with you if you knew it was going to rain so you could pop them in if thunder started and block the noises out of your mind. that however, wasn’t working today.

a small tear escaped your eye, followed by many more. you were trying to remain quiet, trying to calm your breathing which wasn’t really doing much, trying to push the fear out of your mind. small sniffles could be heard from you, burying your head further into soobin’s sheets, doing anything to drown out the noise.

you jumped at the feeling of a hand gently placing itself over yours, their thumb caressing your knuckles lightly. opening your eyes softly, soobin was kneeling next to the bed, concerned eyes looking into your teary eyes.

“are you scared of the thunder?” he spoke, glancing out the window before turning back to you.

you shook your head, staring at him, “no.”

“you’re scared of the thunder,” he replied.

“no, i’m not-” you tried to refute, but a crash of thunder sounded, your body tensing at the sound.

soobin stared at you for a bit with a solemn look on his face, his hand coming up to your face to wipe away your falling tears. you tried to ignore the way your breath hitched, and how your eyes widened slightly.

he stood up abruptly, startling you slightly, “come with me,” he spoke, holding out his hand for you to take.

your eyebrows furrowed slightly, but you knew you could trust him. you raised your hand slowly and grabbed onto his as you flung your legs over the edge of the bed, pushing yourself off to stand up.

you let him guide you over to his computer, his hands dropping to your waist to maneuver you to sit in his chair, giving you a small smile before he grabbed his headset.

“hey, beomgyu, y/n is gonna play with us for a bit. she’s taking my spot,” he explained into the microphone, and you heard a muffled response from the other side, not being able to make out what beomgyu was saying.

he pulled the headset off of his head, placing it over your ears and motioning for you to speak.

“hi,” you stammered, your hands resting on the edge of soobin’s desk, not wanting to mess up anything.

“hey y/n! i was getting sick of playing with that loser, i’m glad you’re here,” beomgyu responded, and you couldn’t help the abrupt laugh that slipped past your lips, lifting your head to look at soobin with a smile.

“what?” soobin asked with a confused look on his face, “is he talking shit about me?”

you shook your head, looking back down towards the screen, “well, i’m really bad at gaming. i wouldn’t get too happy. what even is this game?”

“we’re basically connected by a rope, and we have to work together to get the key that leads you to the next level. it’s mostly teamwork,” he explained while you nodded along to his words, forgetting he couldn’t see you.

“okay, i can do this. that sounds easy enough,” you smiled, your voice more determined as you placed your hands on the keyboard, looking up to soobin to make sure you were using the correct keys. he nodded, and you looked back down, ready to start.

you started walking forward, beomgyu’s character moving with yours, beomgyu going to jump while you fell, dragging both of your characters down.

you sucked in some air, your face scrunching up, “sorry! i didn’t mean to do that.”

you heard beomgyu’s muffled laugh on the other side, “you’re fine. not everyone can be an amazing gamer like i am.”

a soft giggle escaped your lips, shaking your head as you played along with an exaggerated tone to your voice, “oh, right, i’m so sorry. i’ll get it right next time.”

you lied. you had tried six more times, and the same exact thing happened every time. you were starting to feel more embarrassed and you could tell beomgyu was getting slightly restless.

you weren’t on time with beomgyu, you would jump too early and he would fall, or you would jump too late and he would fall. you looked down with an embarrassed look as a sigh left your lips.

“i’m sorry, beomgyu. i told you i wasn’t good at this,” you muttered, your hands coming up to cover your face.

“it’s okay, we’ve got this,” he reassured you, sensing how nervous you were starting to get.

“here,” soobin chimed in from behind you, his hands reaching around you to grab your wrists lightly, “put your hands on the keys.”

you nodded, lowering your hands to place them on the keyboard again, situating yourself in a more upright position.

you felt soobin place his fingers on top of yours, his warm touch sending a shiver up your arms. you sucked in a breath, one you were sure both beomgyu and soobin heard. you clenched your eyes shut for a second in embarrassment and wished soobin didn’t have this much of an effect on you.

“i’ll help you,” he whispered, leaning down so his head was next to yours. if you weren’t wearing the headset he would’ve been whispering directly into your ear. you pushed away the lustful thoughts that filled your brain, clearing your throat and nodding at his words.

“okay..” you squeaked, your voice small. this was humiliating.

“soobin’s gonna help me, beomgyu,” you informed him, soobin guiding your hand to click the restart button on the level, the screen flashing as you two were once again at the starting point.

“i heard him, don’t worry,” he spoke, and you smiled slightly. soobin’s hands pressed down on your fingers, guiding your character to move, quickly getting through the part you were struggling with before.

“not so hard, was it?” he asked so quietly, it was almost a whisper. you turned your head to the side slightly, your breath coming out shaky when you realized how close your faces were.

you nodded slowly, his eyes meeting yours with a small smile, “yeah..”

getting through the levels after that was easy, and you had gotten accustomed to the feeling of soobin being so close to you. you were bickering with beomgyu, the two of you talking about everything while you went through the levels, with the occasional jab towards soobin beomgyu would make.

you would laugh every time, soobin simply shaking his head. he was close enough to your ear to hear what beomgyu was saying, responding to the insults and listening to the way beomgyu would get quiet before bursting out with a laugh, not knowing soobin had heard him.

you had completely forgotten about the storm at this point, too caught up in the game as the levels got harder and harder. to be fair, you were barely doing any work. but it was still fun to at least be playing a part in it.

“okay, we have to lock in. this level is gonna be hard,” beomgyu said, and you heard him take a deep breath as you looked at the screen in front of you.

it definitely didn’t look easy.

“soobin, better work hard-“ beomgyu began to tease, his voice cutting out as soobin’s computer shut off, leaving the room pitch black. your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at the screen, turning to face soobin with a concerned look.

he mirrored your expression, turning to look at the screen, “uh.. let me..”

he bent down, checking the plugs and clicking the keyboard a couple times, a slight hum leaving him.

“i don’t know what happened, everything is still connected,” he mumbled, standing back up to look down at you.

a loud knock on the door caused you to jump slightly, soobin turning around to look.

“yeah?,” he called, waiting for a reply.

“the power went out!” hueningkai called from the other side, and soobin turned to look back at you, the computer turning off suddenly making a lot more sense.

“oh, makes sense,” he responded, reaching down to pull the headphones off of your ears and place them on the table next to you. the two of you shared an embarrassed look, both wondering why you didn’t think of that at first.

“hey, where’s y/n? i haven’t seen her,” hueningkai continued. you looked up at soobin with a small smile, a soft giggle leaving you.

“she’s in here. she’s staying with me tonight,” he responded, smiling back at you.

“oh,” he mumbled, a pause before his next words, “okay. goodnight.”

“goodnight,” the two of you called back, listening as hueningkai’s footsteps descended from the door. silence surrounding the two of you once again.

it was hard to see soobin at all. the room was pitch black, and he looked like a silhouette in front of you, nothing more.

“i’m gonna go get some candles,” he blurted, breaking the silence and beginning to make a move for the door.

your hand moved before you could think too much about it, grabbing onto his wrist and stopping him from going any further. well, let’s be honest, you weren’t stopping him at all. he could’ve kept walking if he wanted to. but he stopped for you.

“don’t go,” you whispered, your grip on his wrist loosening as you lowered your hand back down into your lap, beats of silence passing as you waited for his response.

he hummed quietly, turning back towards you, “okay.”

he was standing so close to you, looking down at you, and from the proximity you could make out his eyes, a sly smile playing on his lips as he spoke, “you’re really dependent on me, aren’t you?”

you rolled your eyes playfully, a laugh leaving you, “shut up.”

he did, surprisingly. he tilted his head to the side, almost observing you. a loud crash of thunder filled the room with noise, your eyes clenching shut as your body went rigid.

“soobin,” you squeaked out, not even realizing his name had left your lips as you looked up at him, panic flashing across your face.

you felt your eyes grow watery, a pout forming on your lips as you met his eyes. he looked like he was once again trying to figure out what to do. he couldn’t distract you with technology this time, he couldn’t block out the noise for you. a small tear slipped down your face, a broken whimper leaving your lips as more thunder sounded throughout the quiet room. you couldn’t even be embarrassed about crying over thunder at this point. you were so overwhelmed.

soobin’s hands reached under your legs, pulling them towards him, before reaching his arms behind your chest and lifting you up, holding you bridal style.

a small part of your mind flickered to how strong he was, how easily he was able to pick you up and how easily he was able to carry you.

he shuffled over to the bed, lighting tossing your body down as you landed with a quiet “oomph”. your eyes flickered down towards him, trying to make out where he was in the darkness.

you saw him lift one leg up onto the bed, leaning his upper body over you as he held eye contact with you, not saying anything, just watching how you reacted to him.

he slowly began to crawl up your body, the only noise being your shaky breaths and the rain hitting the window. shivers erupted across your body as you felt him get higher.

what the fuck is he doing? you thought to yourself, your eyebrows scrunching up in confusion as you watched him.

he was so close now, leaning right over your face. a lightning strike lit up the room, your eyes meeting soobin’s more clearly. there was desire evident in his eyes, your mind going haywire. you had to have been imagining that, right? there’s no way.

he leaned down very slightly, his voice quiet and breathy as he spoke, “do you want me to help you?”

a small gasp slipped past your lips, your eyes wide. you couldn’t say anything. the words wouldn’t leave your mouth. this was not happening. this was not reality.

he leaned down, his face so, so close to yours, before he moved his head towards your ear, his breath tickling your skin as he continued, “use your words. yes or no.”

a shiver ran down your spine, a shaky breath leaving your lips as your body finally forced the words out, “yes. please.”

you felt him smile against your ear, lifting his head once again so he was hovering over you. he reached one hand out to wipe the still-wet tears on your face, his thumb then trailing down to your lips and pulling your bottom lip down before letting it slap back into place.

god, he was so hot. you sucked in a breath of air at the action, your eyes locked on his as began to lean down.

it was soft. his lips were so soft, slowly moving against your own as he titled your head up slightly to access your mouth better. a soft whine slipped past your lips, your hands coming up to wrap around his shoulders.

he pulled away, looking into your eyes. this was your best friend. you were kissing your best friend. your hands slid up to his hair, tangling themselves in his roots and tugging slightly, hearing him suck in a breath of air before his lips were back against yours.

his tongue prodded lightly at your bottom lip, and you obliged easily, opening your mouth to let him in. he was so gentle with his kisses, but they were all-consuming at the same time. his hand that was on your jaw moved down your body, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt before he pushed his hand under slowly.

a gasp left your lips at the feeling of his cold hand on your warm stomach, his large hand splayed out on your abdomen. he wasn’t moving it, just holding it there, like he was waiting for you to tell him to stop. like he wanted you to tell him this was a bad idea.

you didn’t. you would never. fuck, you’ve wanted him for so long, you weren’t going to cut things off now.

his mouth was pushing harder against yours, his kisses getting slightly more rough. your thighs rubbed together while your fingers found themselves tugging at his hair once again. you felt him smirk against your lips, his hand finally beginning to inch up your abdomen.

another crash of thunder. your lips stuttered against his, the grip you had on his hair loosening at the sound. you were so enthralled, you had forgotten why you two started making out in the first place.

he pulled away from you slightly, just enough so he could speak, your lips still brushing each other so very lightly.

“focus on me. not the thunder. i’m right here,” he mumbled, placing a soft kiss to your lips before moving down to your neck.

you only nodded at his words. you felt like you were in a dream at this point. his lips softly kissed at your neck, nipping slightly in certain spots before he made sure to run his tongue over the spot, pressing a small kiss before moving on to another spot.

you rolled your head back against the sheets, giving him all the access he needed as a quiet moan slipped past your lips. a fleeting thought of how you would explain this to hueningkai in the morning popped into your mind but you decided that was a problem for tomorrow.

you felt his fingers reach the bottom of your bra before stopping and tapping your skin lightly. you guessed he was asking if it was okay to keep going further.

“yes,” you spoke, your voice breathy and sounding foreign to yourself. he hadn’t even done anything to you yet. his hand moved up higher, cupping your bra-covered breast in his hand and giving it a light squeeze.

a moan slipped past your lips before you shut your mouth quickly. you had forgotten you weren’t alone for a second. you felt him laugh against your neck, his breath tickling you and the sound so soft. he sat up, the hand that was holding himself up moving to the bottom of your shirt.

“can i take this off?,” his voice was quiet, but it wasn’t nervous. no, he sounded confident. it only turned you on more, a whine slipping past your lips as you nodded your head, arching your back slightly to make it easier for him.

he pulled your shirt over your head quickly, tossing it to a random corner in the room before he was leaving down, his lips latching on to your chest. you sucked in a breath at the action.

“soobin,” you whispered quietly, your voice shaky and ridden with need. you didn’t know where to put your hands, they were going from his shoulder, to his hair, to his biceps.

his hand snaked under your back and you lifted yourself off the bed as best you could as he undid your bra. you tried not to let the fact that he did it effortlessly with one hand linger for too long in your mind. he slid your bra off your body slowly, before leaning back down to press a kiss on your now exposed breast, his other hand coming up to play with the other one. his lips latched onto your nipple, lolling his tongue over the pebbled skin and you swore you were going to go insane.

gasps and whines were leaving your lips as he continued to pleasure both of ur breasts, humming against your exposed flesh. he pulled away just slightly, his hand continuing to squeeze and caress your other breast as he mumbled, “you’re so pretty, fuck.”

“more,” you whimpered out, any proper responses long gone from your mind at this point. your hands clawed at his shirt as best you could, trying to pull it over his head. he got the memo, sitting up and tugging the offensive piece of clothing off of him, your eyes taking in his now exposed chest.

it wasn’t something you hadn’t seen before- no, you had seen him shirtless hundreds of times. this felt different. so, so different.

he leaned back down, trailing kisses down your torso while his hands roamed before finally setting on the hem of your sweats, “lift for me.”

you pushed your hips off the bed slightly, giving him access to pull your sweats and panties down slowly. you heard a small gasp escape his lips, your legs pushing together out of instinct, “you’re soaking, y/n, fuck.”

he hummed, shaking his head before pulling your legs apart, “don’t hide from me.” you whined softly as your head lolled to the side, embarrassment flooding through you. you shouldn’t be embarrassed, really. but nerves were still coursing through your body, your eyes clenching shut.

“hey.” his hands rubbed your thighs lightly, pulling your attention back to him, “why are you so nervous?”

you didn’t say anything for a bit, pursing your lips as you thought of a response. “you make me nervous,” you finally mumbled out, looking down at him slowly.

he chuckled softly, his fingers moving further up your thighs, closer to where you needed him. a soft gasp left your lips, your eyes widening slightly. he hummed, his eyes flickering down and back up, “i do?”

you nodded, a small- and borderline embarrassing- whimper slipping past your lips. your hips wiggled slightly despite your nerves, trying to get him closer to where you needed him. “soobin, please,” you gasped out, your eyes staring into his.

he finally obliged, one of his fingers sliding through your folds, a sharp gasp leaving you. “keep your eyes on the mirror, baby,” he mumbled, giving you a smirk as your head fell back, your eyes barely being able to make out the sight that was being reflected on the mirror.

“want you to watch as i ruin you,” he continued, your body tensing at his words. god, you were not making it out of this. his fingers slid up to your clit, slowly massaging the bundle of nerves. your breathing sped up, a soft moan slipping past your lips as your hands grabbed onto the sheets beside you.

“soob, please. need you so bad,” you whined, grinding your hips up into his hand. his other hand moved to your abdomen, pushing down to keep your hips in place. a moan left you, your hands moving from the sheets to his hair.

“patience,” he replied, a teasing lilt to his voice. his fingers moved from your clit, two of his fingers prodding at your entrance before pushing in slowly. you moaned softly, your head rolling back. “eyes on the mirror,” he mumbled a reply, pulling his fingers out almost all the way before pushing them back in.

you didn’t really hear him, focusing too heavily on the feeling of his fingers. until you felt him latch onto your clit, his lips sucking lightly and drawing a mix of a moan and a gasp from your lips, “fuck!”

you pulled your vision back to the mirror, the sight barely illuminated, the only thing visible being your silhouettes- which were still incredibly hard to see. your fingers tugged at soobin’s hair, trying your best to contain your sounds as you bit your lip so hard you were sure you could draw blood soon.

he was licking and sucking at your clit, his fingers speeding up inside of you, the wet sounds that were leaving your pussy were something you would have normally been embarrassed by, but you were too far gone by this point.

whispers of his name and profanities were leaving your lips, your hands gripping his hair harder as he hummed against you, sending a chill throughout your body. you felt the first tingling’s of your orgasm creeping up on you, your legs threatening to close around his head.

“soobin- soobin ‘m close..” you struggled out between whines, unable to do anything besides take what he was giving you, throwing your head back against the pillow.

soobin removed his fingers, moving his hands to hold either of your thighs down as he moved his tongue, licking a long stripe up your heat. one of your hands flew from his hair to your mouth, struggling to hold in the noises leaving your lips at this point.

“you’re so fucking wet. tastes so good,” he mumbled against your lips, licking and sucking harder as he pushed your legs further apart, practically making out with your cunt, “you gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over my tongue?”

you nodded dumbly, too close to your orgasm to process his words or anything that was happening around you besides the feeling creeping up on you. your eyes were trained on the ceiling, your orgasm growing tighter, so close to falling over the edge.

a lightning strike lit up the room, giving you a perfect view of soobin’s head in between your thighs, your hand gripping his hair, and your fucked out face. you stared back at your reflection, the familiar feeling creeping up on you all too quickly.

“fuck, i’m gonna-“ you started, your orgasm cutting you off as your back arched into the air, your hand tugging harder at soobin’s hair. your body shook, his hands pushing your thighs down harder as he groaned into your cunt, the feeling heightening your orgasm. muffled whines pushed their way past your lips, although your hand was trying its best to muffle the noises.

soobin wasn’t slowing down. even as you started to come down from your orgasm, tinges of overstimulation mixing pain with pleasure, he kept going. “soobin.. too much,” you whimpered, your hand falling from your mouth to grab onto his hair, attempting to push his head away.

“you taste so good,” he responded, his voice muffled and sending vibrations up your core, your legs twitching at the feeling.

“soobin,” you mewled, tears welling up in your eyes as you attempted to push your thighs together, your head falling to the side.

he lifted his head, looking up at your shaking form with a small smirk adorning his lips, “you can give me one more, can’t you?”

he went back to eating you out almost immediately, except this time he removed one of his hands from your thigh, pushing two of his fingers inside your dripping hole, beginning to thrust them in and out.

you threw your head back, a gasp falling from your lips as your hands tugged at his hair. “i can’t.. soobin,” you whimpered, tears falling down your face at the feeling.

he moved his free hand, once again pressing his hand down on your stomach as he sped up his fingers, the feeling pushing you close to the edge once again. you but your lip hard, holding in the noises threatening to leave your lips as he continued his ministrations.

you couldn’t even give soobin a warning this time, your second orgasm crashing over you as your eyes rolled back, your pussy gushing all over his fingers and face.

he helped you ride out your orgasm, slowly pulling his fingers out of you once it started becoming too much again. he pressed a soft kiss to your sensitive clit, your legs jumping slightly at the feeling.

he pushed himself back up your body, enveloping your lips in a soft kiss. you tasted yourself on his lips, humming quietly into the kiss. he ground himself against your core, his bulge applying the perfect amount of friction against your clit. you gasped against his lips as your head tilted back slightly.

he looked down at you, a teasing expression on his face, “what’s wrong?”

you couldn’t care less that he was teasing you at this point, grinding your core up against him. “need you,” you mumbled.

“yeah?” he teased, continuing to grind his hard cock against you. he wanted to be inside you so bad, his sweats were painful at this point and your pussy was providing the perfect amount of friction for him. he wanted to keep teasing you, to see how far he could push you, but his self control was shattering more every second.

he pulled away, a whine falling from your lips at the feeling disappearing. you looked up at him with a pout, “why’d you stop?”

“i’d rather you come on my cock,” he replied simply, his words rendering you speechless. he tugged his sweats and underwear down in one go, his hard cock slapping against his stomach. the tip was red and leaking, your mouth dropping open at the sight. he stroked himself a few times with his hand, a cocky smile on his lips when he noticed your reaction.

“holy shit,” you mumbled, a new wave of arousal washing over you. he leaned his body over yours once more, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“are you ready?” he asked softly, lining himself up with your entrance. you nodded quickly, letting out a desperate hum as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him back down to your lips. he reciprocated the kiss immediately, pushing his hips forward slowly and enveloping himself in your tight heat.

you gasped, your lips separating from his as your face scrunched up and a moan spilled past your lips, closing your mouth quickly. soobin’s eyes were closed, his eyebrows furrowed as he continued to move forward slowly, “fuck, you’re so tight.”

you couldn’t get any words out, noises stuck in your throat as he practically split you open on his cock. he finally bottomed out, his thighs flush against the back of yours. you could feel every ridge and vein, a deep breath leaving him as he spoke, his voice shaky, “i’m gonna start moving.”

“okay,” you whispered, a whine slipping past your lips as he pulled out, pushing himself back in quicker than before. you couldn’t think straight, your mind muddled and completely focused on how good you felt right now, how soobin was fucking you just right, setting a perfect rhythm.

“soobin, fuck,” you mumbled, your hands moving to his neck, his arms, his back, anywhere that you could get a hold of to ground yourself. the sound of skin slapping skin reverberated quietly throughout the room, the both of you trying your best to be quiet, but, fuck, it was hard.

“gonna make you cum on my cock. make you forget about everything else,” he sighed, his hand coming down to push on your stomach, your eyes rolling back at the pressure, “fuck, you’re taking me so well, baby.”

he stopped his movement, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips as you looked up at him, “no- no, don’t stop.”

he didn’t answer, grabbing your legs and pressing them to your chest, holding them there by the back of your knees as he started to move again, the new angle making him feel even deeper. “fuck, oh my god,” you whimpered, throwing your head back against the pillow. he had you practically locked under his hold, unable to do anything besides take all of him.

a certain thrust had him pushing up right against your g-spot, a broken gasp leaving your lips as your hand shot out to the sides, gripping the sheets as your eyes rolled back. soobin caught on quickly, rolling his hips up against the same spot, “right there?”

“yes, yes, please, oh my god,” you babbled, trying your best to hold the sounds threatening to push past your lips in. he picked up his pace more, hitting the perfect spot repeatedly. you felt your high growing quickly, the band getting ready to snap.

“soobin, i’m close,” you whined, his hand immediately coming down to rub circles on your clit. the added stimulation pushed you even closer to the edge, your eyes clenching shut.

“me too, baby. gonna stuff you full of my cum,” he groaned out, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared the edge, “you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“pleeease, i need it. need your cum,” you whine, your hands pulling at the sheets harder as you feel the band in your stomach growing tighter, “i’m gonna cum- soob!”

he sped up his thrusts, rubbing harder at your clit, “cum for me.”

his words pushed you over the edge, your toes clenching and eyes rolling back as your orgasm exploded, your release gushing all over his cock. your pussy clenched tightly around him, making it harder for soobin to move as he groaned, watching how your face contorted as you succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure.

“fuck, baby. squeezing me so tight. i’m gonna cum, gonna fill you up,” his voice was strangled and shaky, his hips slamming against yours as he shot his cum inside you, throwing his head back and clenching his eyes shut. he rocked his hips slowly against yours, helping the two of you ride out your highs.

your breathing slowed down as your body relaxed into the sheets, trying to process what had just happened. his forehead dropped against yours softly as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before releasing your legs, them instantly falling down by your sides.

“hey,” he whispered against your lips, a soft smile playing on his lips as his hands came up to your face, pressing another kiss to your lips before he continued, “want you to ride me.”

your eyes snapped open, staring into his eyes with an exasperated look, “soobin, i’ve come three times already. i can’t do another one.”

“oh, but i think you can,” he smiled, looking out the window before turning back to you, “besides, it’s still thundering outside.”

you couldn’t even get an answer out before he was flipping the two of you over, a gasp leaving your mouth as your hands shot out to his chest to steady yourself. the new position had him hitting different spots inside you, your pussy clenching around his hardening cock.

a corner of his lip lifted, his hand slapping your ass lightly, “turn around for me, baby.”

you obliged, pulling off of him with shaky legs as you both winced at the feeling as you moved your body, positioning yourself over him once again. you were trying to ignore the soreness in your legs, grabbing his now hard dick and aligning him with your entrance before slowly sinking down.

you bit your lip hard, holding back the moan of pleasure, a small whimper slipping out instead. “fuck, soobin,” you whined, your head dropping to your chest as you continued to lower yourself, finally feeling him bottom out.

“just like that, doing so good for me, hm?” he mumbled, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he helped guide your movements, your mouth falling open at the new feeling. you picked up the pace, bouncing up and down on his cock, your hands steadying themselves on his thighs, helping you move quicker as you bit back moans and cries.

your legs were stinging, threatening to give out on you as you tried to keep going and push yourself through the pain. it didn’t work, your legs dropping down as you took a deep breath. you tried to lift yourself up again, but soobin’s hands held you in place.

“relax,” he murmured quietly, bending his knees and pushing his feet into the mattress, his hips thrusting up into yours and immediately setting a brutal pace. you couldn’t fight the loud cry that left your lips, one of your hands slapping up to your mouth as you tried your best to muffle the desperate sounds leaving you.

he was so deep, hitting you in places that had tears welling up in your eyes, your hand gripping onto his thigh like a lifeline. “too much!” you cried, the hand on your mouth dropping down to his other thigh to hold yourself in place.

one of his hands moved from your hip, slowly sliding up the rest of your body before he reached your neck, grabbing your chin and angling your head up towards the ceiling. “look at yourself, baby. how good you’re taking me,” he spoke gruffly, voice consumed by lust.

your fucked-our face was staring back at you, teary eyes and mouth hung open, soobin’s hand holding your chin and his hips pistoning up into yours. his eyebrows were furrowed, his lips pulled between his teeth as he watched the way you sucked him in. you couldn’t help the loud moan that left you at the lewd sight.

it was like a dam broke. all the moans and whimpers you had been holding in were slipping past your lips as the tears that had been welling up in your eyes spilled over. he angled his hips just right, thrusting up against your g-spot again as a loud cry left you. you didn’t even have to tell him at this point, he knew. he kept the angle, repeatedly hitting the same spot that made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

he chuckled quietly behind you, his voice strangled as he spoke, “you want hueningkai to know how good i’m fucking you?” you clenched tightly around him at his words, a whimper leaving your lips. you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke again, “you liked that, didn’t you? dirty girl.”

“yes, w-want everyone to know- need you,” you stammered out, your voice shaky and cut off with moans. you were nearing the edge for the fourth time that night, loud, unabashed moans leaving your lips as your hands pushed harder against his thighs, trying to ground yourself somehow.

you were so far gone at this point, only caring about the pleasure coursing through you. you felt like you were in a different dimension. you were so close to tipping over the edge, your cunt beginning to clench around soobin as you cried out.

“you close, baby?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. he doubled down on his efforts, thrusting into you faster, if that was even possible at this point.

“please- please.. need to cum, fuck, please, let me cum, soobin, please, want you to fill me up!” you pleaded, tears falling down your cheeks as your eyes clenched shut. you were so close to falling over the edge, the knot in your stomach tightening more and more, so close to snapping, so close to-

your vision went white, your mouth falling open as a cry left you as your cunt spasmed wildly around him. it was euphoric, your body twitching and spasming as he held you in place, beginning to chase his own high. you could do nothing besides take it, whimpers and cries leaving your lips as the pleasure morphed into pain.

“i’m almost there baby, fuck, just-“ he started, his thrusts sloppy and quick as he neared the edge, “i’m gonna cum, fuck, fuck, fuuuuck”

you watched his face with bleary eyes when he came, the reflection dark and hard to make out. his eyebrows were squinted closed and his eyebrows furrowed, his mouth hung open as he filled you up, pulling you down as hard as he could, hot white seed filing you to the brim and spilling out from being so stuffed.

his grip on you loosened, pulling you back against his chest. the position was uncomfortable, your legs and back bent at a weird angle, but you were too far gone to think about that right now. he smiled at your pliantness, adjusting your legs for you the best he could, pulling himself out of you slowly.

you whined at the sting, his hand stroking your arm as he whispered, “it’s okay, just relax, alright?” you nodded, soobin sliding himself out from underneath you so he was next to you, turning on his side and facing you.

“hey,” he mumbled with a smile, watching as you turned your head to meet his eyes with a shy smile.

“hi,” you giggled, your voice hoarse and sleepy.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he admitted quietly, biting his lip as he averted his vision.

your eyes widened slightly, turning your body fully to face him as you responded, “you have?”

“yeah,” he said, a small laugh leaving his lips as he looked back at you, “i’ve wanted you since we became friends. i just didn’t wanna make things awkward. but you would always give me these looks and i couldn’t tell if you liked me or not. tonight i just.. i couldn't help myself, i guess.”

your mouth fell open slightly, a smile forming on your lips as you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips, “i’ve always been yours, soobin.”

his eyes lit up, a big smile taking over his features as his hand reached up to cup your jaw, pulling your lips back against his. this kiss was different from the others. it was sweet, full of emotion and untold feelings that had finally come to surface.

he pulled away slowly, resting his forehead against yours as he spoke, “let’s get you cleaned up, alright?” as you nodded along to his words, the rain pouring outside the window as the storm raged on, one thought circulated through your mind.

maybe thunder wasn’t so bad after all.

oh, and how you were going to explain this to hueningkai in the morning.

eeee i hope u like it!!

[viasdreams]

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

soobin as your loser bff !! (he want you so bad)

a/n: does this make me a loser since i just made him like all the things i like??? 😞 also bunny girl senpai being his fav anime will never not make me laugh

fake text m.list ☁︎⋅

[hyukalyptus]

office hours — professor!soobin x gradstudent!reader

cw. chubby!reader, reader is an adult grad student, minimal age gap, clear consent, petnames (babe, baby, honey, darling, good boy), mommy kink, face sitting, unprotected penetration, creampie, cunnilingus, handjobs, ending is cheesy, "epilogue" of sorts involves christmas vibes, kissing, please lmk if i'm missing anything. NSFW/MDNI notes. i would feel irresponsible if i didn't acknowledge this is a romanticized portrayal of a professor-student relationship. while the relationship in this story has clear consent multiple times, irl relationships like this can be inappropriate and exploitative bc of the authority imbalance. you deserve a healthy, consensual relationship. prioritize ur well-being and autonomy. relationships should be built on mutual respect, equality and clear consent. this is a work of fiction and should be read as such. shoutout to @silvergyus for sending the prof!soob pic <3 wc. 11.6k

“Which brings us to Le Chatelier's Principle in real-world chemical reactions,” Professor Choi says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “This will be review for most of you, so I won’t go into too much detail.” 

Chemistry is your favorite thing in the world. It’s real-life magic. And Professor Choi sees it that way too. His olive green chinos are wrinkled from walking from his office. The sleeves of his white button-down are pushed up so he can write freely on the whiteboard while his burgundy tie sways with his scurries. 

Sparks of passion fill his eyes as he lectures. And he never disappoints with his cheesy jokes. Although you seem to be the only one that laughs at them—maybe you’re the only one that gets them. Not many students in his class are the experts in chemistry you are. You took it as a break from your intense course load and the elective credits are a nice bonus. 

Most of your professors are so old they barely know how to turn on their laptop and are so deep into their tenure they’ve given up. If you bothered showing up to their office hours, you’d be lucky to find a professor, let alone a helpful one. So you’ve become a frequent visitor in Professor Choi’s office hours, talking about advanced chemistry he can’t wait to teach but it’ll be at least five years before he can. In the meantime, he’ll settle for nerding out with you in his office for a few hours every week.

“Great class today, everyone,” he says. “Have a great weekend and don’t hesitate to visit me during my office hours with any questions!” That sentence started out as a normal speaking voice but ended up a shout over the shuffling of the desk chairs and backpacks. You’re typically the last one out, but you save your questions for his office hours tomorrow. 

-

“Hi,” you say, lightly tapping your knuckle against his office door.

Turning around in his chair, his lips form a pout in surprise at seeing you. “Were you waiting outside? Sorry that meeting ran a little long—” He shuffles to organize his desk. 

“That’s okay.” Adjusting your bag on your shoulder, he rests his hands on his thighs and looks up at you. Did he just look you up and down? Don’t be ridiculous. 

“What can I do ya for?”

“Right,” you start. “Can I…?” You ask, motioning toward the spare chair, waiting for his nod before sitting. “You know Professor Vaughn’s class?” You barely catch it, but his eyes roll. Professor Vaughn is the worst professor you’ve had. Boring, harsh, impatient. It doesn’t help he teaches one of the most complex forms of chemistry. “I’m not really getting this week’s content and was wondering if you could help me.”

“Of course.” He smiles. And it’s devastating. The sparkle in his eyes and those dimples. Craning his neck to look at your notes riddled with red question marks, he nods. As soon as he sees the title of your notes, he says, “Let’s think about this from a quantum mechanical perspective. If we assume that the π-complex is forming, we’re talking about a stabilization due to delocalization π-electrons, right?”

In what feels like no time at all, an hour has passed and the conversation has been the complete opposite of Professor Vaughn’s lectures. Questions led down rabbit holes, leading to other theorems and more questions. As he glances up at you through his glasses, there is an undeniable tingle in your stomach.

It’s not like you haven’t noticed how attractive Professor Choi is. He’s tall, lean but undeniably strong, he has the most perfect silky black hair and the prettiest brown eyes, and his pout—indescribably cute. And again—those goddamn dimples. He’s the perfect mixture of sexy, handsome, and pretty. You’d never think of doing anything with a professor, but you can’t help your mind wanders during the slower lectures. 

How long have you been staring at each other in silence? Too long probably. He clears his throat. “Well,” he says, looking at his watch. “My office hours have been over for a few—”

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” you say, stumbling as you stand, attempting to gather your things as quickly as possible. But he shakes his head, trying to shrug it off. 

“That’s okay,” he says. “I, uh, I just have my emails waiting for me.”

You nod, shoving everything into your bag and heading out the door. What was that? You’re probably overreacting, you think to yourself. He’s charming because of his looks, there’s no way he’d— No. Don’t even finish that thought. 

-

"How is it that someone who scored the highest in my theoretical chemistry exam is turning basic lab work into a spectacle of incompetence?" Professor Vaughn boasts over your right shoulder. No doubt his thick eyebrows are furrowed.

As your hands tighten around the test tube, you know exactly what to do—you always do—but everything slips through your fingers in his class. 

"I’m trying to get the reaction to stabilize," you stammer, eyes darting between your hands, the chemical reagents lined up on the table, and your notebook.

Professor Vaugn’s expression hardens as he steps closer, looking down his nose at your station. "Trying is for high school sophomores. If you’re still trying, you’re behind."

Taking a deep breath, you carefully add three more drops to the mixture but the reaction goes wrong. Again. A plume of white smoke rises from the beaker, and the liquid turns an unexpected, muddy brown.

"Unbelievable," Vaughn mutters loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone knows you’re the best student in your class. Well, everyone except Soren, who’s so jealous of your intelligence they can hardly stand it. They simply smirk. "I expected more from you."

Your heart sinks. You checked those calculations three times. Maybe it’s your shaky hands. Or the pressure of him looming over your shoulder. Or the other stuff on your mind. 

"Are you going to sit there and guess again, or would you like to double down on failure with your next attempt?" Vaughn sneers, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I’m not guessing, Professor. I—"

"Can’t manage a basic reaction?" Vaughn interrupts with his icy voice. "I’m beginning to wonder how you even made it into this program."

"I’m perfectly capable. The solution is just—"

"Wrong. Yes, we’ve established that." Vaughn’s lips curl into a patronizing sneer. "Maybe chemistry isn’t the field for you if this is the best you can manage." That got everyone’s attention—it would be an interesting sight to see you fail. It so rarely happens. Sure, you’ve been doubted before but have always proven yourself. Today would be no different.

You take a deep breath and count to yourself, One. Two. Three. Four. Five. 

As you block out Vaughn’s piercing gaze and the weight of the other students’ eyes, you carefully remeasure the chemical, adjusting the proportions this time, methodically double-checking your work. You add the reagent once more, slowly, and watch as the solution begins to shift. 

A moment passes. The reaction stabilizes and the solution turns a clear, pale blue. 

"Finally," Vaughn mutters. You don’t even have to look at him to know he rolled his eyes. He turns to walk away but pauses. "Barely acceptable. Next time, you won’t be given the luxury of so many failures."

-

Bursting through the door upon dismissal, you can’t get to the restroom fast enough, barely making it to a stall before tears stream down your cheeks. 

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five,” you whisper to yourself. 

Sometimes, chemical reactions need to be dealt with instantly, but that’s an overwhelming amount of pressure. You give yourself five seconds before you absolutely have to deal with it. Same thing here. Cry. Count to five. Wipe your tears and move on.

But it’s difficult to move on this time. You’ve counted to five a few too many times today. But the only person you want to talk about it with is—

Professor Choi,  Are you available to meet me in Lab 270 tomorrow afternoon? I’ve been struggling with some reactions and could use some help. I’ll be there from 2:00—4:00.  If not, no worries! 

Sniffling, you hit send on your email app, shove your phone in your bag and head home. 

The next day drags on and on. Did he even get your message? Expecting an empty lab, you’re surprised to find Professor Choi waiting for you behind a laptop wearing a cute tweed jacket with suede elbow patches. His eyebrows are furrowed as his focused eyes study the computer, but they brighten at the sight of you. 

Initially surprised by your confusion, he squeezes his eyes shut and says, “I didn’t respond to your email, did I?” He’s already got the lab station set up. How long has he been waiting on you? “So, how’s Professor Vaughn’s class?” Did someone tell him about yesterday? God, you hope not. 

“Fine,” you deadpan. Shaking your head, you say, “I’m sorry…I’m just kinda stressed.” 

“I can go if you need some time by—”

“No,” you say, softening your tone. “I’d really appreciate your help.”

And he’s more than willing, letting you ask whatever you want, never interrupting or talking over you like most of the men in the program. He gives you space to explore ideas and theories, listening closely instead of answering everything for you.

And he’s so damn sexy when he’s the one doing the ranting. The way he talks with his hands, ones that are so big with fingers so long you wish he would wrap around your—

“Shut up.”

“Excuse me?” He asks.

Oh shit, did you say that out loud? What a fucking nightmare. “Uh, sorry, just…talking to myself. Too many thoughts racing around the ole dome.”

A slight pout forms on his lips as he continues his rant. Now, the only thing you can think of are his lips wrapped around your—

“Ah!” Your hand slips toward the Bunsen burner and, great, now you’ve got a nice burn on your thumb. 

“Oh gosh, are you okay?” He stands quickly. “Let me see.” His fingers graze your palm, igniting a fiercer burn than the actual flame just did. “Run it under cold water, okay?”

In the meantime, he straightens up your station before meeting you at the sink. “Is something wrong?” His words make you jump. “You seem distracted.” 

That’s all it takes. The floodgates open. You rant about the sexist piece of shit Professor Vaughn and his power moves to intimidate you when he knows you’re the best student in the program. About how embarrassed you were in lab yesterday. Last semester when you raised your hand to correct an equation on the board and he gave you a firm talking to about respect after class. 

He watches you carefully, handing over a towel for your hands as you take a steadying breath, fighting back tears.

“Did I ever tell you why I started studying chemistry?” he asks. You sniffle, shaking your head. “My grandfather. He was a baker.” His voice softens, and you look up to find his eyes full of kindness. “Every Saturday, he’d make me work in his bakery. I didn’t mind—it felt like magic, you know? But really, it’s science. It’s all precision, measurements, timing.” 

A smile tugs at his lips. “Once, I tried baking a cake for my mom’s birthday, followed his recipe exactly. Measured the flour, the sugar, the cocoa. When I pulled it out of the oven, it was hard. Flat. I was sure he’d be disappointed, calling it a waste of time and ingredients. I was terrified. But he looked at it, smiled, and told me to try again the next day. When I asked why it didn’t work, he said I needed to ‘feel my way through it.’”

You sit there, the sting from your burn now fading, but your heart’s still aching, wanting something from him—a hug, a kiss, even just a pat on the shoulder.

“If I’d gotten it right the first time, I’d never know what overmixed batter looks like. Or that I like more cocoa than he did. Or that you should coat berries in flour.” His smile creeps up to his eyes. “Seeing how failure could make you better—it made me curious. I wanted to understand why some things worked and others didn’t, why I needed to feel my way through it, to get into the details.” He makes eye contact with you again. “That’s why I went into chemistry. Baking taught me the magic is in the little things—if you’re willing to screw up and keep going.”

Nodding, you smile back. His words hang in the air for a moment, like they’re meant to settle, but something’s missing. 

“All I’m saying is, its okay to fuck things up, okay?” he says, his candidness drawing a chuckle from you. “How else would you learn?”

-

The world’s drained of color—only hazy shades of grey and beige are left. Your palms press against a cold marble countertop with the faint sound of running water echoing in the distance. The reflection of the mirror looks like you, but not quite. The woman in the mirror has her lips painted a dark, sultry brown, a shade you’d never choose. And the outfit is far too dressy for a lecture. Shadows fall where there shouldn’t be any. 

The hallways are unfamiliar, yet you know it's the same building you visit almost every day. It's blurry, like you’re walking through a memory that isn’t yours. 

You look down at the saddle shoes on your feet clicking against the tile floor, unnervingly filling the emptiness. It feels like someone else is controlling your body but you don’t question it. You can’t. Your hand raises, knuckles brushing a wooden door before it creaks open on its own. 

On the other side of the door, Professor Choi faces a green chalkboard. Has that always been in his office? Hurriedly scribbling down equations, he glances between the board and the notebook in his hand. When he looks over his shoulder at you, his eyes soften and a slow smile spreads across his face. “Come in,” he says gently, setting his notebook aside. His voice wraps around you, making the room feel smaller, closer. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your spine tingles. “I know,” you reply, but the words sound hollow, like you’re speaking from somewhere else. 

“Here,” he suggests, holding a piece of chalk out to you. The way he gestures toward the board is magnetic. As you take it from his hand, your fingers brush his. “What do you think of this?” An unfinished equation waits to be solved. His presence looms behind you, close but not quite touching as you reach up to solve it. Your heart pounds, every stroke of the chalk on the board heavier than it should.

“Impressive,” he murmurs, his voice low, rough around the edges. You turn to face him and he’s closer than expected, his warmth radiating against your skin. The air is thick with something unspoken. You step closer, tentative at first, then quicker, more certain. Your lips almost brush his, but he pulls back, his breath catching.

He looks down, your name a whisper on his lips, soft and pained. “I—” His eyes flicker up to meet yours, then fall back down like the weight of your gaze is too much.

“What?” You ask, your voice barely more than a breath. Your eyes dart between his, lingering on his tempting mouth. He leans in again with desire in his eyes. He wants to kiss you. You can feel it. And for a moment you think he might.

But he pulls away, his forehead nearly resting against yours. “I don’t think we should be doing this,” he says, his voice strained, as if saying the words is physically painful for him.

“Why not?” The question slips from your lips before you can stop it, frustration and longing lacing your tone.

His hands flex at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to touch you. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to, or—”

“Why would I feel like that?” you interrupt, your voice impatient. Your heart races, pounding in your ears, drowning out reason.

“I’m your professor,” he breathes out like it’s a curse. His words only fan the flames of the tension building between you. There’s nothing wrong with that, you think to yourself. It’s not like you’re fresh out of high school—you’re a grad student, close to starting the same PhD he earned barely three years ago. He’s no more than five years older.

“I don’t care,” you insist, stepping even closer, your lips a breath away from his. “I want you to kiss me.”

His eyes darken, his resolve faltering as his gaze drops to your lips. “It’s a mistake,” he whispers, but his voice trembles with indecision, trying to convince himself more than you.

“Make the mistake,” you urge, your voice soft but sure. Your hand reaches for his tie, tugging as light as you can just to bring him that much closer. “You said it yourself, it’s okay to fuck things up.”

There’s a beat of silence, so thick it feels as though the room itself is holding its breath, waiting. And in that moment, the space between you seems to collapse, the weight of everything unsaid pulling you closer. 

The millisecond before your lips touch, you breathe awake. 

You bolt straight up, feeling around your soft bed sheets, breathless as your heart pounds from the vividness of it all. For a moment, you linger in the feeling, brushing your fingers over your lips, feeling the warmth of the almost kiss. But reality sinks in and your stomach drops.

Reaching for your phone, you check the time. Great, it’s almost time for his class. But there’s no hazy world to hide in. Skipping class might be an option but an exam reminder drags you out of bed. 

- 

Trudging across campus, your stomach sinks lower with each step. How can you look him in the eye? Dropping your bag to the floor with a thud, you hang your head low. Let’s just get through this exam and get outta here. 

“How’s your hand?” Professor Choi’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding his hands up. “Didn’t mean to scare ya.” Looking at you like you’re the cutest puppy he’s ever seen, you can’t bring yourself to speak, but you hold out your hand. The second his fingertips touch yours, you flinch and jerk it back. 

“Um—” you start. “Better, thanks.” Turning away from him, you distract yourself with a random notebook from your bag. 

“...You okay? You shouldn’t be nervous about the exam.” When you look up, you’re met with eyes that appear…hurt? 

“No, it’s not that.” That’s not a good answer. “Just…” What would you even say? I had an incredibly vivid—and delicious—dream about you last night and now I need to know how your lips feel in real life? “Cramps.”

“Ah.” He nods and leaves you alone, awkwardly walking to the front of the class to make some announcements and general good wishes before the exam. With your fist pressed to your chin, you refuse to look up, hanging your head low even as he slides you your copy. 

There’s a bright green post-it stuck to it with a note, It’s okay to fuck it up! Your heart races as your eyes dart around searching for him. When you find him, he gives you a soft smile. You return the smile but rush to unstick it before anyone sees, storing it in your notebook for safe keeping. 

-

As you return to your apartment, the post-it stares back at you like you’re the guiltiest son-of-a-bitch in the world. It’s practically calling you a whore. And you can hardly take it anymore. You can’t bring yourself to face him for class a few days later—although skipping feels like a cardinal sin. Soon enough, though, your email dings. 

From: Choi Soobin, PhD I noticed you were absent from class today. I hope everything’s okay. The lecture notes are attached for your reference. Feel free to stop by my office hours with any questions. Professor Choi

Did your heart just flutter? Why are you walking toward his office? When you knock on the door, he stands—more like stumbles—to greet you, “Hi!” 

“Hi, Professor Choi…” You linger in the doorway, clutching your notebook tight to your chest. “Sorry I missed class—”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah—”

“You’re not overwhelmed with coursework, are you?” His eyes search yours, and there’s a softness in his voice that makes it hard to look away.

“No, no, I’m alright. I just…had a migraine this morning,” you say, shrugging slightly. “It’s gone now, though.”

He nods, easing into a warm smile. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” His gaze doesn’t waver and the intensity makes your pulse quicken. “So, I’m guessing you’re here to go over questions from the lecture?”

“Actually, it’s Professor Vaughn’s class I’m struggling with. His lecture today was…brutal.”

“I’m shocked,” he says sarcastically. “The man’s got a gift for making simple concepts sound like Greek.”

“Exactly,” you laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing. “I thought it was me, but he seems to take pride in making everything harder than it needs to be.”

“Trust me, it’s not you,” he says, a glint of warmth in his eyes. “He’s terrible. And annoying. And boring. And I’d tell him that.”

You raise a brow, skeptical. “You wouldn’t.”

“Well…” He breaks into a grin. “Maybe after I reach tenure. Though he may be retired by then.”

“Or dead,” you say matter-of-factly. He looks at you awkwardly then you both laugh, genuinely. There’s an ease to it.

He gestures to your notebook. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

-

“I can’t believe I’m laughing at that,” you say, a giggle escaping your lips. 

“You always laugh at my bad jokes,” he replies, staring at your face a little too longingly. If you were anyone else, he might find some excuse to touch you. Maybe brush a piece of lint off your shoulder, lightly touch your arm while he laughed at something you said, or something as casual as a fist bump. 

If he were any other guy, you’d be much more obvious, making it crystal clear you want him to kiss you right now. But you can’t. You don’t even know how he thinks about you. You’re probably just another student to him. 

“Well, those are all my questions,” you say, awkwardly packing your bag. 

“Yeah, you can, uh…head out…” he trails off as you start to rise from your seat. 

You’re searching for something to say, something to let you stay just a little longer. But nothing comes. He watches you walk toward the door, the silence hanging in the space between you. 

“Pens!” His voice suddenly burst out, loud enough to make you stop mid-step. “They, uh—I went to a conference last week and they gave me a ton,” he says, scrambling to gather a handful from his desk. 

You take them, your fingers brushing against his in a way that feels far too intimate. His eyes lock with yours, the touch sending a ripple of tension through you. “But you’re, uh…picky about your pens, aren’t you?” He asks, his voice softer now, almost unsure.

Laughing quietly, you say, “Yeah, but…that’s okay.” Your words are heavy with subtext you can’t bring yourself to say out loud. “Well, goodbye.” You offer him a smile, stepping back toward the door. “Thanks again.” 

“Yeah. Goodbye,” he says, but his feet shuffle forward as if he’s moving without thinking. Awkwardly reaching for a handshake, he realizes your hands are occupied. Instead, he reaches around you for the door handle, but he gets a tad too close and your brain scrambles. 

Before you can hold yourself back, you drop the pens, letting them clatter to the floor as your arms wrap around his neck. Your lips meet his in a rush, warm and soft. While your eyes close to savor the feeling, his widen in shock before he relaxes into your touch and wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer. 

It’s everything you’ve been holding back—unspoken feelings unraveling in a heartbeat. His lips move against yours with a hunger that surprises you, the world melting away as you lose yourself in the moment. You feel weightless, your pulse racing as his hands grip your waist a little tighter, as though he’s afraid to let you go.

When you finally break apart, breathless and dazed, he presses his forehead to yours, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re never gonna use those pens, are you?” he asks, his voice low and rough, like he’s trying to anchor himself in humor, trying to bring himself back down to earth.

You laugh, shaking your head. “No,” you admit, your heart still pounding. “They’re garbage.”

Before you can think, you kiss him again and this time, he doesn’t hesitate. His mouth crashes into yours with an urgency, like he’s wanted to kiss you since the second he laid eyes on you. His lips are soft, but his kiss is demanding, making up for all the lost moments between you. For those few minutes, nothing else matters—you bask in one of the greatest kisses either of you have ever had. But not for long.

Reality catches up too quickly. You pull away suddenly, breathless and wide-eyed. “Oh my god—” you gasp, backing up, your fingers graze your lips trying to make sense of what just happened. “I’m so sorry—”

“No,” he interrupts quickly, shaking his head. “Don’t be. I—” He’s stumbling through his words, just as lost as you are but neither of you regret it. “I wanted—”

“That was…” You can’t even finish your sentence. It was everything. Too much, too fast, too real. But you can’t take it back.

“I—” He’s trying to find the right words, to reassure you, to tell you he felt it too, that he wanted it just as badly. But he’s as flustered as you are, his voice rough and unsure.

“I’ll just…go throw myself off a bridge now,” you mumble. You can’t even look at him as you make a beeline for the door, your face burning with embarrassment. You think you hear him say something, but the blood rushing in your ears drowns it out.

You leave the room quickly, your heart about to burst through your chest, trying to process what just happened. The kiss lingers on your lips, a mix of exhilaration and terror swirling inside you. It’s too much to handle.

But, hey, there’s one bit of good news. At least he kissed you back. 

-

What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Drop his class? It’s too late in the semester for that. And you need those credits. Wait until the end of the semester to talk to him again? Can you go that long without his lips on yours again? 

Back at your apartment, you rummage through your books to find the university’s code of conduct, hurriedly searching for anything related to “appropriate relationships,” “faculty-student relationships,” “consensual,” blah blah blah, whatever the university has coded sleeping with a professor.

The University strongly urges those individuals in positions of authority not to engage in conduct of an amorous or sexual nature with a person they are, or are likely in the future to be, in a position of evaluating.

Your eyes read over the words, “strongly urges” once more. Not totally against the rules, you suppose. Even if you did wait until the semester was over, you’d need to report it. You wish you could talk with him about it, but bringing this up is tricky. Is it moving too fast? You can’t text him, you don’t have his number. And using your student email to send a message to his faculty email that says, “Oh, by the way, I checked the rules and we’re in the clear to have sex!” is a terrible idea. 

Maybe one kiss in his office doesn’t mean anything. Oh, but it was everything. 

-

After much deliberation, you convince yourself to attend his class a few days later. You’ve brought the code of conduct along, as well as a bright pink post-it sticking out of the book. To avoid any form of small talk with him, you wait outside right until the start of class. 

Along the way to your desk, you silently plop the code of conduct on his desk and scurry away. When you work up the courage to look up at him, he’s flipped to the marked page. Highlighted on the page is the paragraph that “strongly urges” people in positions of authority not to sleep with students. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. The message couldn’t be clearer, he thought. You’re practically telling him to leave you alone. But when he finally reads the post-it, his heart flutters. Written in your handwriting, it says, It’s okay to fuck it up! complete with a smiley face. 

As much as he tries to fight it, he glances up at you to catch your gaze. And just as the slightest smile appears on his face, a big one appears on yours. You hide it with your palm as you start at the blank page of your notebook. Blinking, he shakes his head and begins his lecture. But how can you concentrate now? 

You’ve gotta give it to him, he delivers his lecture perfectly. If it were you, you’d barely be able to think. Hell, you barely can throughout the whole thing. 

Now that you’ve gotten that smile of permission, you finally let yourself daydream. 

Has his ass always been that cute? Has he always been that tall? Has his voice always been that deep and sexy? 

You don’t even know what he’s talking about, but that’s okay, you can always stop by his office hours. “What do you think?” He asks. 

Oh shit, he’s looking at you for an answer. He can always rely on you to keep class moving along when everybody else is dead silent. You shake out of your thoughts, panic-reading the board to come up with something. It's similar to your discussion you had the last time you went to his office hours. The time that ended in that gorgeous kiss. Throwing together an answer, his eyes brighten as he cheers, “Exactly!” 

Oh my god. He’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. You could just gobble him up. 

-

“So, I suppose we should talk about…” Professor Choi trails off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air like it’s obvious what he’s getting at. And it is. But you stay quiet. You wanna hear him admit it. You raise an eyebrow, playing coy.

You decided to press your luck by visiting his office outside scheduled office hours��right after class—to simply test the waters and gauge his reaction to the code of conduct and that kiss…that incredible kiss. 

“You know…” He gestures vaguely between the two of you, sighing like okay, fine, I guess I’ll say it. “I like you and you like me, right?” His voice dips just slightly, enough for you to notice the hesitation. “Unless I’m totally misreading—”

“No! You’re not…misreading anything,” you’re quick to say, along with a chuckle. Phew—he was worried there for a second. So goddamn cute. “What do you wanna talk about?”

He exhales a small laugh, but his smile is strained, cautious. “I want to make sure you don’t feel…weird about this.” Hand sliding nervously along the edge of his desk, he traces the wood grain before his eyes flick up to meet yours. Truth be told, he’d never do something like this with a student. Never want to make anyone feel pressured. But he never thought he’d feel like this. Giddy and blushy like you’re his first crush. 

“Why would I feel weird?” You tilt your head, genuinely curious. You’ve thought about this—about him—far too much for any of it to feel weird.

“I’m just terrified you feel like you need to do something about this.” You’re taken aback, confusion visibly etched across your face. “You know, because I’m your professor or because I’m in the department and I know your plans for a PhD here.” His voice softens, vulnerability creeping in. “I don’t want it to feel like I’m pushing you into anything.”

“I don’t,” you say gently. “It’s not like that.”

He nods, though the tightness in his jaw doesn’t disappear. “Because if you ever even remotely feel like I’m pressuring you, I want you to tell me. Immediately. I mean it.”

“No,” You shake your head, almost too fast. “I mean, it doesn’t feel like that. Not at all. I’ve thought about this…about us, a lot.” Your voice falters for a moment as his eyes widen, softening in a way that makes your stomach flutter. You weren’t expecting him to look at you like that—so open, so relieved.

His fingers twitch as if he’s resisting the urge to reach out to you. “Yeah?”

You nod again, more confidently this time. “But I think we should wait until the semester’s over. Before we…you know…do anything.”

He smiles gently and leans back, visibly more at ease. “I think so too.” 

But you didn’t realize how fucking difficult it would be to get through the last six weeks of the semester. Every class you sit there, thighs pressed together thinking about the dirtiest things you want him to do to you. Every office hour you went to, you could practically swim through the thickness of the tension between you two. 

It didn’t help how cute he was being. Post-its he’d leave on every exam of yours—You’re gonna do great! You’ve got this. Trust your instincts.—encouragement no other student got. You kept every one of them in your bedside table drawer. 

When finals week finally arrives, it wasn’t just about exams; it was about counting the hours until you could finally be with him. Or at least talk to him like he wasn’t your professor. As he handed over your final exam, the familiar green post-it note was stuck to it: Happy Finals Week! 

Your internal scream was so loud, you’re worried your classmates heard it. You’d pre-written a post-it to stick to it once you returned the exam. It had your phone number, a smiley face, and the words: Since you’re not my professor anymore. 

-

After a full day of checking your phone every twenty seconds, you started to give up. Was he just playing you? Did someone else see the note? Did he change his mind? But finally, you receive a text.

hi! this is soobin (professor choi lol). i was wondering if you wanted to get dinner or something?

soobin!! omg yes i would love to get dinner with you :) how’s tomorrow? 

how about right now? if you want, of course! no pressure we can totally wait until tomorrow it’s up to you

You squealed into your pillow, kicking and giggling like an idiot. Should you be flirty back? 

i can be ready in 30 min. 364 oakridge drive. it’s an apartment building- i’ll meet you downstairs. 

be there in 45 :) 

-

Like a perfect gentleman, Soobin meets you at the passenger door, swinging it open with a charming smile before gently closing it behind you. The slow walk up to his front door makes your stomach stir. He has to fumble through his keys to unlock it. 

Once inside, he slips his shoes off quietly, revealing cozy patterned socks that make you smile. Meticulously, he hangs his jacket on a coat tree and places his keys in a speckled clay catch-all that rests on a table next to a houseplant. As he walks toward the kitchen, he glances over his shoulder, his voice low and inviting. “Do you want a drink or something?” The warmth in his gaze makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re drawn to this softer side of him. In class, his tone is bright and dorky. In his office, it’s casual and laid-back. At dinner, it was sweet and charming. But now? Now it’s sultry, almost sexy. Like he can’t wait to be with you but would never, ever pressure you. 

“Hot tea?” You suggest with a steady voice, despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“Sounds good,” he agrees, switching on his tea kettle. In the meantime, you take a look around his much neater than expected apartment. 

The mid-century modern furniture is impeccably arranged—a sleek sofa, a low coffee table, and a stylish armchair with an even more stylish decorative pillow. Perfectly nurtured plants thrive around the room, adding a green vibrancy to the minimalist backdrop, breathing life into the space. A gallery wall above his expensive-looking couch features travel photos, beautiful art, and a few subtly science-inspired pieces. In the corner across the couch is a sleek electric fireplace underneath a huge TV. 

“Who’s this?” you ask, your heart swelling as a fluffy gray cat glares at you through one half-open eye. Her perfectly groomed fur and regal posture make her look like she owns the place. Just then, Soobin steps into the living room, holding two steaming mugs of tea, filling the air with a warm spice. 

“That’s Molly…short for Molecule,” he says. “Don’t worry, she’s sweet.” 

Extending your hand toward the cat, he starts to sniff you. “Hi, M—wait,” you pause, looking up at Soobin with a teasing smile. ��Molly, short for Molecule?” He nods, his grin widening. “You’re adorable,” you tell him. Has anyone ever blushed quite like he did just now?

He stares down at his feet, clearly caught off guard. “You’re,” he starts. “Well, you’re cute too.” His sincerity makes your smile grow even stronger.

“Can I sit?” you ask, nodding toward the couch.

“Oh,” his smile falters for a moment. “Yes, of course. Make yourself at home.” You plop down on his couch, settling into the surprisingly soft cushions. Molly clearly doesn’t think the couch is big enough for the two of you, so she strides over to probably the nicest cat tree you’ve ever seen.

You sip your hot tea and your body finally relaxes. As you reach to sit it on the coffee table, he politely asks, “I don’t mean to be a square, but can you use a coaster?” 

“Of course,” you say, complying with the request. “So, tell me,” you begin, clearing your throat. “How’d I do on my final?” Humming, he stands to rummage through his messenger bag slumped over a dining chair. You gasp, “A ninety-seven?” Thumbing through the pages, you find a single red X on possibly the easiest question you’ve had on an exam since high school: What is the atomic number of oxygen? “Are you kidding me?” 

Any attempt to mask your embarrassment is impossible. It only deepens when you look up and catch him already watching you—lips pressed tight, failing miserably to hide a smug, amused smile.  

“I, uh…” You scratch the back of your neck. “I got that one wrong on purpose. You know, so as to not raise any suspicion.” 

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, did you now?” You nod. “That was on the exam just so Toby wouldn’t get a zero.” You nod begrudgingly. “And you put 10! That’s not even close. That’s—”

“Neon,” you grumble. “Yeah I know…” you say, avoiding his eyes as he laughs playfully. 

“Neon’s a noble gas and oxygen is a—”

“Reactive nonmetal,” you cut him off. “I know, okay?” You shove his shoulder playfully, but your grin betrays you. “It was a high-pressure environment. Sitting in an exam room with your professor watching you."

"I barely looked up from my laptop,” he reminds you. 

"Your presence is distracting enough," you shoot back, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Ah, so my intellectual aura threw you off?”

“I dunno…is that what you think, professor?” You ask cheekily. “Maybe it was something else.” You’ve tossed the exam onto the coffee table, moving closer. 

“Like what?” 

“Just…you. You’re distracting.” You smirk, the words slipping out almost involuntarily, like they’ve been waiting on the tip of your tongue. 

Intrigued, he tilts his head and asks, “What about me?” There’s something magnetic in the way he looks at you—like he knows the answer but wants to hear you say it, to savor the way it sounds coming from your lips. 

You hum, tracing the lines of his body with your eyes, mapping out uncharted territory before exploring it. You don’t want to move too fast, but every fiber of your being screams for more. He’s not lighting a fire inside you—he’s setting the whole forest ablaze. Sure, your imagination has been running rampant since he returned your feelings six weeks ago, but now that you’re here, he scrambles every thought.

“Your eyes…” you say while yours flick over his face, taking in every curve, every freckle, every lash. “They’re so pretty.” 

A smile—small but real—tugs at the corners of his lips. The kind that’s private, meant just for you. His eyes darken as he leans in, the space between you shrinking. You glance down, noticing the way his long fingers curl around the mug handle. There’s something almost hesitant in the way he holds it. You take it from him gently, setting it atop a coaster as quietly as you can.

“Your hands…” you whisper, fingers barely brushing his knuckles, tension coiled under his skin. They’re hands that have worked, experimented, written things down—hands you want on you. Guiding one to your thigh, the squeeze he returns sends a shudder through you. 

Everything between you is electric. Your breaths come faster now, more desperate. Every inch you move toward him is a test, a slow-motion collapse of restraint.

“Your legs…” A soft breathless chuckle escapes as you glance down. His lips part like he’s about to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. Boldness surges through you like a current and you hike one leg over both of his, straddling him. The shift is seismic. His hands move to your hips, gripping you, afraid to let go. The heat of his touch spreads through you, anchoring you in place, though it feels like everything around you is spinning.

“And your lips…” you murmur, leaning closer, your breath mingling with his. “Oh my god, those fucking lips.” You can’t stop staring at them, just a breath away now, soft and wet. Your pulse races. 

You cup his face, lifting his chin until his eyes meet yours again. His pupils are blown wide, the desire in them unmistakable. Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, and the moment stretches, suspended. You lean in just enough to feel his breath on your lips. 

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

And he does.

It isn’t tentative—it’s dam-breaking. Like he’s been starving for it, holding back for years. His lips are soft but urgent as his hands tighten around your hips to pull you closer. You taste jasmine tea on his lips, a subtle sweetness mingling with the spice of his cologne—clove, pepper, something dark and addictive. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper against his lips. “I can’t believe I had to wait so long to kiss you again.” You kiss him again and he moans sweetly into your mouth. Just as the kiss deepens, he retreats, his breath ragged. “You okay?” 

Nervously nodding, he says, “Yeah,” but his eyes flicker away. He tries to kiss you again, but you place your hand on his chest, gently stopping him.

“Wait,” you say, eyes searching his face. “What’s going on? Am I being too—”

“No,” he says, almost a little too urgently. “It’s not that. It’s just…” His hands fall to the couch. Bracing to tell the truth, he squeezes his eyes shut before adding, “I need to tell you something.” You sit back on your heels, still in his lap but giving him room to speak. 

“What is it?” You ask softly. 

“There’s this thing… I haven’t—uh…” He stumbles over the words, his fingers twitching at his sides.

“Soobin?” you ask, your voice gentle but steady. That’s the first time you’ve called him by his first name. It feels utterly…vulnerable. “Are you a virgin?” The question is delicate. Shutting his eyes again, he takes a deep breath. 

“No,” he says. “Well, not exactly.” You narrow your eyes at him. What is that even supposed to mean? “It’s just…it’s been a while. And before then, I hadn’t had a lot of sex. And I haven’t had any…recently.” 

“How long?” you encourage, your eyes softening.

“A year.” 

You hum softly in acknowledgement, watching his confidence falter. Instead of pulling back, you lean forward, trailing slow, deliberate kisses along his neck. He trembles under your touch, a soft gasp escaping his lips, your hands moving all over his body, claiming him.

“Oh, Professor Choi,” you whisper, your voice dripping with heat and promise. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”

-

As your breath slows, you sit up and let your hand linger over his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. “Tell me,” you start. “What do you like?” 

“Um,” he swallows, trying to force the lump down his throat. He’s so hesitant but he finally says, “Touching.” 

“You touching my body or me touching yours?” 

He exhales shakily. “The first,” he says, confirming with a squeeze to your hips. 

You hum against his ear. What are you gonna do with him? Tease him forever? Let him have his way with you? You ask, “Why don’t you take my shirt off for me?” 

Gracing his hands over your arms, he grounds himself again before asking, “You sure?” 

“I’m sure.” You nod, guiding his hands to the top button of your blouse, letting him slip it through the buttonhole. One by one, he exposes more of your skin, his heart thumping harder with each passing second. Pushing the silky fabric past your shoulders until your top half is only covered by a bubblegum pink mesh bra, leaving almost nothing to the imagination—except for the red embroidered hearts over your nipples.

After easing the shirt out from your trousers, you reach back to pull at the sleeves, letting the shirt fall to the floor. He slips his finger under one of your bra straps, pulling it to the side, but you stop him. “Wait. It’s your turn.” 

Tugging on his tie, you slip it through the collar and unbutton his dress shirt. Seeing his body bare in front of you for the first time, you’re practically drooling. You indulge in running your hands all over his body, lean with subtle muscles, from his chest to the bottom of his abs. 

“How come you got to touch me if I didn’t get to touch you?” He asks innocently. 

“You’re right,” you chuckle. “I’m sorry.” You smile and sit up to press your palms against his and let your fingers intertwine. Your heart melts and you fear you may throw up. “Did you want to take my bra off first?” He nods. Fumbling fingers reach behind you to snap it off, letting it fall to the couch. As he sees your bare tits, his eyes widen and he lets out the cutest little Oh. 

He’s hesitant to do anything. You have to guide his hands to massage your tits—and they’re the perfect size for you. 

“You’re so…soft,” he says, looking up at your eyes, like he’s not sure if that was okay to say. 

“You like them?” He nods eagerly. Experimentally swiping a thumb across a nipple, it hardens at his touch while you let out a sharp gasp. 

“You like that,” he says matter-of-factly. “Can I taste?” Nodding, you lean forward, welcoming his lips. His body finally relaxes as he moans against your skin. Circling the tip of his tongue around your nipple, he’s teasing you. And oh my god do you love it. 

One of your hands threads through his hair and you stuff the other down your pants, but he grabs your wrist softly. 

“That’s not fair,” he whispers and you concede, keeping your hands to yourself. With one hand, he stuffs your tit back in his mouth while the other plays with your other nipple. His hot, wet mouth on one nipple and his teasing fingers playing with the other sends waves of pleasure through you that may send you over the edge.

If you don’t do something to ease your need, you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to take this. You resort to grinding against his hard cock, making his hips buck. 

Lifting your legs off his, you swing around to sit next to him, palming his cock over his trousers. Desperately clawing at the waistband, you unbutton and unzip his pants, encouraging him to kick them off. He stands to slip them off and as you reach for the band of his boxers, he stops you. 

“Your turn,” he whispers. And you comply. But not without a show. Standing slowly, you push him to the couch and turn your back to him. As you push your pants down, your ass looks delicious in your thong that matches your bra—mesh bubblegum pink with red trim. When you turn back, he’s fisting himself over his underwear. 

“Nuh-uh, that’s not fair,” you say. Returning next to him on the couch, you feel him over his boxers and your mouth waters. Goddamn you can’t wait for him to be inside you. “Do you have any lube?” He nods and shortly returns with a barely used tube. 

While he stays standing, you sit up on the couch, running your hands across his muscular thighs and perfect pelvis. Looking up at him, his eyes are bright, darting all over your body like he’s afraid to miss something. He fiddles with his waistband, flipping the elastic over softly. A small smile flicks across your lips before you tug his boxers down his legs, leaving trails of kisses along the way.

Encouraging him to sit down, you look down at his cock, long and hard and dripping with precum. Finally, you drag your fingertips up and down his cock before squeezing him. He moans like you’ve never heard a man moan before. Laying your head on his shoulder, you sprinkle kisses all over his skin, finding a spot behind his ear that makes him squirm. 

He hisses and—almost involuntarily—wraps one of his hands around yours to use his long fingers to guide your hand up and down. There’s something magical about someone with so little experience telling—no, showing—you what to do with his body. It’s electrifying. He hasn’t been touched in so long that he’s desperate to get off and can’t waste time with words. But no words need to be shared. His movements tell you what speed he likes. 

Snaking his other arm around you, he stuffs his fingers in your hair and clenches his fist, subconsciously tugging the strands. His lips are right against your ear, breathing rapidly and heavily and he can hardly take it anymore. You watch his chest rise and fall as he clenches your hair, moaning getting quicker, he squeaks and whines. 

Hurriedly pressing his lips to your temple, you can’t take your eyes off his cock as he shoots short spurts of cum all over his stomach. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath before he gives you a sweet smile. 

You don’t let up with kisses all over his body. Sprinkling kisses here and there while he cleans himself up with a hand towel he’d brought with him when he got the lube from his bedroom. Once he’s clean, he slouches down the couch. 

“Will you sit on my face?” His eyes are ever so sweet and innocent, like he’s finally able to test all his fantasies. “Please…” You hum like you’re only considering it, but we all know you’ll say yes. “Please, mommy?” Everything halts. 

“Mommy?” 

“F-fuck—” he sits up, ears turning redder than you’ve ever seen them—anyone’s ears for that matter. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first—”

“No, no…” you say gently, cupping his jaw to make him look at you. You can’t help yourself—you press your lips to his again and you lose yourself in his intoxicating kiss. But you break it and say, “Keep calling me that.” 

“M-mommy?” You hum. Before you give him what he asked for, you shove your tit in front of his lips. He doesn’t need to be told what to do. His plush lips wrap around your hard nipple while he thumbs the other. It feels like fucking heaven.

“That’s my good boy.” He lets out the most pathetic whimper you’ve ever heard in your goddamn life. His eyebrows furrow, looking up at you through his lashes. “Are you my good boy?”

“Yes,” he says, nodding eagerly. “Yes, mommy. Of course.” 

“Soobin,” you breathe in disbelief, dropping your head back. “You’re so sexy, I swear to god.” 

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head. “That’s you.” He smiles. “Will you please sit on my face now?” He slouches down again without waiting for an answer. “Please.” You hike your leg up to rest your foot against the back of the couch, gently hovering over him. But he wraps his hands around your hips to yank you down. As he flicks his tongue over your clit, you might be embarrassed by the volume of your moan, but there’d be no reason to. 

“I thought you said you didn’t do this a lot?”

“Well,” he takes a deep breath. “This was always what I was best at.” You chuckle. “Wait, no—” he shakes his head. “I’m good at the other stuff too. I hope.” Returning his tongue to your clit, you gasp and fall forward, bracing yourself against the back of the couch. He seizes the opportunity to get fully entranced in your taste. 

There's an impossible contrast—your body melts, muscles soft and pliant as you surrender to the pleasure but, at the same time, goosebumps prickle along your skin, sharp and electric. Warmth and vulnerability layered with a thrill that leaves you shivering, somehow both at ease and on edge.

But then he snakes his hand behind your ass to tease your asshole with his pinky. And it's overwhelming. Your knees are so weak you can hardly hold yourself up. The way his hands feel on your body, touching you in all the right places, flicking his tongue perfectly, moaning so temptingly along with the built up tension—it is so much. So. Fucking. Much. 

It builds in your stomach—teetering on the edge and god you only hope he doesn’t stop what he’s doing. But you can’t form words to tell him that. But he knows. 

And then it happens. 

You feel like you’re floating—or falling may be more accurate—as your orgasm washes over you, thighs quite literally quivering around his face as you come undone on top of him. For him. Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you roll and plop to the couch and he sloppily replaces his tongue with his fingers. You make a mental note to show him exactly where your clit is later. How is it that he found it so easily with his tongue but missed it with his hand? You guess he was right—oral is what he’s best at. Your chest heaves with your deep breaths as you come down from your high, watching him smirk at you. 

“Oh my god,” you say breathlessly. There’s a beat of silence. “What the fuck?”

“What?” He chuckles. 

“I wasn’t expecting that.” 

“I told you I’m good at it.” 

“Where’s your bedroom? This couch is too small for what we’re about to do.” 

Once he shuts his bedroom door to keep Molly out, he pulls you by your waist to press his bare body to yours and kisses you again so romantically it takes your breath away. 

“Wow,” he whispers against your lips. “You’re so beautiful.” 

“Oh my god, shut up.” You go straight back in for more kisses. But you break it— “But not literally, though. Please keep saying stuff like that.” You giggle together, slowly falling toward the bed until you’re gently laid on your back and he’s over top of you. 

“Can I, like, kiss all over your body?”

“Of course,” you say. “You don’t need to ask.”

And then he does exactly what he wants. Starting at your lips, he moves to the corner of your mouth, trailing behind your ear and down your neck. The way his breath tickles your neck sends shivers down your spine and you need more, more, more. 

As you lay there, simply basking in the feeling of him taking his time exploring every inch of you with the softest lips you’ve ever felt, you can’t help but be giddy. He’s tentative in some areas and eager in others. After he kisses the sensitive skin under your breast, he carefully observes your reaction. When he delicately presses his lips to your pelvis, his eyes flutter up to yours nervously. 

“Soobin,” you say breathlessly. He hums against your tummy, shaky hands running up your thighs. “I need you please.”

“You need me?” You nod. “Where do you need me, mommy?” You groan, arching your back, not even knowing where to start. You need him everywhere. 

“Inside me,” you say. “Please, I’ve been thinking about it for so long.” 

“Have you?” He asks innocently, using his fingers to play with the folds of your pussy so casually, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. “I should be the impatient one.” But you know why he’s taking it so slow. He’s nervous as hell right now. 

Aligning his cock with your entrance, he slowly pushes himself inside you. And it's utterly exhilarating. For both of you. He falls forward, framing your face with his forearms, digging his nose into your neck. 

“Fuck…” He whispers shakily. Your nails drag down his back at his inexperienced hip rolls. “Oh my god, what are you doing to me?” Despite his inevitable desperation, his thrusts are controlled. He’s trying his very best at least. But his cock is so fucking perfect, you figure he’d make you feel good no matter what he does. Although, a little part of you thinks about how good he’ll be at fucking you in a few months after a little practice. Or lots of practice. 

He whispers swears, your name, and mommy…over and over again. Then he sits up, looking down at your body. Awkwardly fumbling as if he wants to say something, his mouth isn’t cooperating with his brain. He slowly comes to a stop, sliding out of you and barely touches your calf. 

“Can you, uh…would you mind, um—” 

"Do you wish to see me on my knees? Is that it, darling?"

“Yes, mommy…please, I’ve never—” 

“You’ve never had someone on their knees for you?” You ask and he silently shakes his head. “You’ve been such a good boy for me. Of course I’ll get on my knees for you.” You oblige to his request, turning yourself around and arching your back to give him a perfect view of your ass. He groans at the simple sight of your body. He swipes his hands over the swell of your ass, squeezing here and there. 

He clears his throat and asks, “What do I do?”

“Oh,” you chuckle lightly. “Just get on your knees and guide yourself in. Make sure it’s the right hole,” you say light-heartedly, trying to ease the tension a bit. 

But when he’s finally inside you again, it’s heaven. And he indulges in himself a bit—thrusting faster, harder, making your ass jiggle. The lewd sounds of his cock in your wetness and his hips smacking your skin makes it all the more erotic. But it doesn’t take long before—

“I like it better the other way, I think,” he says matter-of-factly. “Is that okay?”

“Of course that’s okay, babe,” you say, flipping back over and spreading your legs. And he slides right back inside you, letting his head fall back. But your tits bouncing are simply too tempting not to look at. They’re why he prefers it this way, so why not look at them as much as he can? He retreats a bit, opening his mouth like he wants to ask you something but he’s too shy. 

“What is it, baby?”

“I was just wondering if you…if you could—would you want to be on top?” His tone is genuinely sweet. “Like what position do you like?”

“Missionary’s my favorite too,” you say. “But I would, hm, I would really like to be on top for a bit.” Switching quickly, you align yourself over his cock and sink down on him so, so, so slowly, letting out a big sigh of relief. “Oh my god, Soobin. Are you fucking kidding me?” You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full before. The feeling stretches all the way to your toes. “I need to hump you like crazy for a bit,” you say with a chuckle. He nods like that’s perfectly fine with me, mommy. 

And you do exactly that—bounce on his cock as fast as your body lets you, relieving that built-up tension. Over the last few months, you wanted to jump his bones every time you were in the same room and that feeling never let up, like there was a tension thermometer in your body that was constantly stuck at boiling. 

But perhaps it was a bit more painful for him because an occasional rut up into you isn’t enough anymore. He holds your hips to keep you in place, fucking up into you as fast as he can. Head dropping back, he groans, your name leaving his lips. 

“Mommy?” His eyebrows furrow, looking utterly pathetic. “Let’s switch back. Please.” Hiking your leg over his hips, you land roughly on your back. Gently grabbing your hands, he pins them above your head, aligns his cock at your entrance, and slides inside you, rolling his hips so deliciously. As he kisses you, he swallows your moans. Trailing down your neck, he whispers, “Please tell me I’m making you feel good, Mommy.” 

Your eyes roll back in pleasure and you say, “Fuck, you’re making me feel so good.” 

Slowing his thrusts, he asks, “What else would you like me to do?” Smiling up at him, you rub his thighs. Waiting for an answer, he covers your collarbone in kisses, making his way back to your ear. After nibbling gently on your earlobe, he whispers, “Tell me how to make you feel even better.” Oof. Shivers. 

“Rub my clit,” you say. He sits up, fumbling with his fingers. “Use your thumb,” you giggle. “Wait.” Reaching for his hand, you let spit pool in your mouth before wrapping your lips around his thumb. Sucking on it, he looks at you like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Then he follows your instructions, rubbing your clit with his thumb while he fucks you, listening intently to every instruction, every a little to the lefts, up a little bit mores, and he never gets impatient. 

Your back arches impossibly high and you say, “I’m close, babe. Don’t stop.” You rub your own nipple, but he moves your hand out of the way, wetting his thumb with his own spit before circling it for you. 

Everything has been building to this moment. Staring at him in every lecture, longing for his touch. That kiss in his office was just the start of your addiction. Attending his office hours didn’t help, but you couldn’t stay away. You needed to be closer to him. To feel heat radiating off his body. To smell his spicy cologne. To watch his fingers wrap around his pen and wish they were wrapped around something else. 

All of it was for this moment right here. Cumming around his cock for the first time. You can’t wait any longer. There’s a white hot burning in your belly that’s getting more furious by the second. His name leaves your mouth in a yelp before fireworks explode inside you. 

Your legs shake around his waist as he fucks you through it, not changing a single thing. Overwhelmed with pleasure, you grab his wrist to stop him from rubbing your nipple to make sure it’s the most perfect orgasm you’ve ever had—not too much and not too little. 

And it’s neither. Instead, it’s perfection. You knew it would be. It seems to last forever but somehow not long enough. As soon as you finish, you miss it. 

Catching your breath, your vision clears up as you look up at him with a smile. He shyly asks, “How was that?” 

You take a deep breath and say, “Oh my god, that was so good.” Rubbing soothing strokes up and down your thighs, you can tell he’s getting impatient. But still—he’d never pressure you in a million years. 

Bending to kiss your neck again, he whispers, “Can I cum inside you?” You nod frantically. 

“Please.” 

“I have condoms if you want.” You think about it for a second. Really. You would love nothing more than to feel him fill you up. But it’s risky. “Mommy…” His hips slowly start moving again, encouraging a decision from you. “What are you thinking?”

“Cum inside me, please. Wanna feel all of you,” you say, rubbing his back. He smiles, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss that sends your head reeling. He sits up and squeezes your thighs over and over, adoring the way your body feels in his hands. Soft and squishy and intoxicating. Licking your own thumb, you pinch and rub one of his nipples, making his mouth drop open. He didn’t even think of having his own nipples played with. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” he gasps. You praise him, Cum inside me, baby. You’ve been such a good boy for me. I want you to feel so good for me, okay? And he’s rutting his hips into you roughly, using your body for his own pleasure. You simply can’t get enough. You want him inside you forever and ever. “You’re…” he trails off. “You’re gonna make me cum, Mommy.”

“Go ahead. Cum for me.” Like it’s a command, his hips stutter and his cum fills you up, warm and sweet and heavenly. Swears and other inaudible words you hope are compliments spill out of his mouth. Falling forward, he digs his face into your neck once more, twitching until he comes to a stop, taking deep breaths. 

You expect a warm smile to echo his warm cum filling you up but he stays put. In fact, he doesn’t move or say anything for quite some time. So much time passes that his cock has slipped out of you on its own, his cum leaking down the swell of your ass. 

You finally break the silence, “Are you okay?” He nods awkwardly. “Look at me.” He shakes his head. “What’s wrong?” He still won’t budge. “Soobin, what’s going on?”

“I’m embarrassed,” he whines.

“Huh? About what?” 

“Calling you mommy,” he finally sits up. “I was just caught up in the moment—I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”

“Honey,” you giggle, sitting up with him. “I told you I liked it.” 

“You weren’t just saying that?”

“I don’t think I would’ve came that hard if I didn’t like it.” 

His eyes brighten before adding, “I guess so.” It genuinely was one of the strongest orgasms you’ve ever had. Surely, he has to know that, right? But wait— 

“Was it good for you?”

“Oh my god,” he’s finally relaxed a little, peppering your face with kisses. “That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had, I swear.” He stands, walking into his en-suite to get you a towel, damp with warm water. “So…” he starts awkwardly. “Should we, like, report this to the dean?” 

“Is that your way of asking me to be exclusive?” He blushes as you brush some of his hair behind his ear. “Because my answer is absolutely.” You press your lips together. “Although, can we hold off for a while? Just until next semester starts?”

“Be in our own little world for a bit?” He smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You’re taking a break until next semester, right? Are you working right now?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I got a bunch of scholarships to pay for school,” you say proudly. 

“Why am I not surprised?” 

“Because I’m the smartest person you know,” you say cheekily. 

“No lectures until next semester, so I’m pretty much free.” He smiles, clearly wanting to say something more, but bites his tongue. “Can I ask you something?” You nod. “This may be moving way too fast, but do you maybe wanna spend the holidays here? With me?”

The next few weeks are a whirlwind. Both of you admit it’s too fast. But neither of you care. The fireplace roars as you decorate his Christmas tree together, wrapped presents, baked cookies, everything you could think of that ooey-gooey couples do. 

And of course, nightly sex is a bonus. You simply can’t get enough of each other. And you just about lose it when you walk into the kitchen on Christmas morning. He’s standing at the counter wearing a Santa hat, flannel pajama pants, and a black tank top making your favorite tea. 

“Ah, there she is! Good morning,” he says with a smile. You take a plate full of chocolate chip waffles from him. But not before he kisses you. Cupping your cheek, he pulls you into perhaps the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had. You can feel his smile on your lips. 

And everything feels absolutely perfect. You think you may be dreaming, but he feels so very real at this moment. And his voice is clear as day, “Merry Christmas.” 

[hyukascampfire]

𝓜ILK WITH YOUR COOKIES? ､. c.sb

too excited to sleep on christmas night, the last thing you might've expected was to find a very tall, very handsome man with arms full of gifts broken into your home. also, for him to claim himself to be santa claus. ࣪˒ ࿔

゛◞͈ ⧼ 🧦 ⧽ ･ 5.8k

𝓹airings ˒ santa!soobin x reader

𝑔 ; smut

𝔀arnings ˒ general smut, cum eating, breast worship, mentions of titty fucking, soobin watches reader play with themselves without their knowledge, fem!reader, cumming on belly, whiny soobin kinda, soobin is... well, santa, possessiveness, usage of the word whore

✎୭ ashlynn's note guys. please promise me you won't imagine an old man when you read this. LMAOO. this is the first day of the event! tell me how you guys feel abt it :3

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

All wrapped up in the covers, you try to close your eyes and just let it happen. You really do. The mattress beneath you is soft and embraces you with warm, oh-so-welcoming arms, and the fireplace crackles from the living room. You’d left the door cracked, only a little bit, just so that the sounds might lull you to sleep. 

Despite all the efforts you’d put into a perfectly cozy, perfectly sleepy, night, your mind wanders each time you let your lashes fall to your cheeks. You try and soothe it over with fuzzy visions of waking up in the morning to the world outside your window dusted white and your tree, all alight and sparkling, made full with gifts wrapped in swirling red paper.

Well, if you were sleepy before, you’d lost it now. 

Perhaps you’re far too excited for Christmas. Especially for your age—a full grown woman too giddy to sleep on Christmas eve? It’s ridiculous. But those warm, flickering memories of Christmas mornings with your family are close to your heart. Bounding down the stairs on bare feet to go stick them by the fireplace to defrost, pulling woolen, knitted stockings off the mantle when your parents told you to check for coal, and then after it all, finally sitting crisscrossed around the tree. The smell of whatever spiced thing your mother would be warming over the fire and the sharpness of the pine needles—you think that there is nothing better. It was such a simple time. 

You push yourself up off the bed, hair mussed with relentless tossing and turning. Slipping out from the covers, you don’t even bother fixing it. The wood flooring creaks beneath your weight. Through your woolen stockings, the ones you’d pulled on just before bed so that you might stay toasty should the fire die out, it greets you nice and pleasantly warmed. 

Down the hallway you shuffle, smoothing over your cotton sleep dress and tugging your fingers through tangles of hair. Three hours; three hours you’d been curled up in your bed, alternating between inspecting your ceiling and walls as if you’d never seen them before and trying to think sleepy thoughts. You can really only handle so much of that. 

Starting in the afternoon, as soon as the sun began yawning and blinking bleary eyes to give way to the moon, you had worked dutifully on whipping up some Christmas desserts. Baking platterfuls of warm goodies was something your mother did for your family every Christmas eve. Bowl in hand, and wafts of gingerbread and fruit cakes twirling sweet and warm up to your nose, those memories were all you could think of. Your heart aches in your chest. This day doesn’t feel the same celebrating by yourself. You’d hung garlands down from doorframes and done such a beautiful job on the tree, but you’d done it all. Alone. You’d done all your baking alone, too. 

So, though you don’t have the faces of family around, not even a boyfriend, to eat them with... You’ll eat tbe excess alone. You’d always been the type to go all tired with a full belly, anyway. Maybe it’ll help you get to sleep. 

The counters are a beautiful spread of your day’s work. Cinnamon cakes made even sweeter with a warm, sugary drizzling, fruitcakes of raisin and dates, glazed fruits all fat and ready to make your fingers sticky as you enjoy them, all on silver filigree platters. Beside it all, you place your candle, the lengths of it decorated with rivulets of wax melted down and then gone solid once more. You sift between them, fingers itching for something hearty. 

From behind you, there’s a shuffling. It’s slight. Firewood burnt down to nothing shifting and falling, most likely. You peruse the platters—the glimmering, glazed nuts, or mahogany cakes? You almost decide, but, with another rustle, you cannot pretend it was nothing this time. You turn on your heel. 

There, in your living room, stands a man.  

A very tall, very frozen man. With features soft, he looks as though the warmth and coldness of Christmas personified both. Wide, brown eyes return a look very similar to what you assume yours might be. In his hands, he holds a box wrapped in papers—one that looks as though it would belong so well beneath your tree. 

Frozen way down to your bone, you don’t really know what to do. Do you scream? Would the family in the home across from yours hear you? As a young, unwedded woman, and their neighbor, you think they might help you. They’d always seemed to like you well enough. How’d he even find his way into your home anyway? You don’t leave doors unlocked. 

For a few more long moments, the two of you stare at each other. Strangely, he seems just as rattled as you.

“Who are you?” you say, voice wavered in just the way someone’s might if they found an unknown man in their home. He doesn’t look scary. Not by a long shot. With warm eyes of hot chocolate and hair the fluffy brown of any girl’s dreams, he does not look scary at all. You might even say he looks delicious. 

The stranger opens his mouth and closes it a few times. When he finally goes to speak, in a rounded cheek you spy the twitching of a dimple. It’s soft in his face, just like the rest of him. His ears burn red. “You’re not supposed to be awake,” he says, a waterfall of nervous laughs falling out along with it. 

You, just as frozen as you’d been when you’d first turned around to find him there, frown. Not supposed to be awake? What is that even supposed to mean? You tug at the hem of your night dress. You’d pulled it on thinking that nobody would see you in it, and especially not a man. An intruding man, at that. It’s thin and comfortable, falling at a spot on your thigh that’s good for movement, but not for wearing in front of a strange man. Definitely not. 

“What do you mean?” you say, stricken in place. As much as your heart beats like a wild, caught animal in your chest, sending liquid energy right through your veins, you cannot move. It’s no different from the deer that, instead of darting between the trees to escape a pouncing predator, sits utterly still hoping that maybe they’ll go unnoticed. But this is not the wild, and that does not work here. You probably look more like you’re a blinking, stupid mess than anything. You say, “Get out of my house, or I am going to scream. Get out.” 

Who wants to deal with this on Christmas eve night? Somebody breaking into your home, hoping to get lucky with the presents littered under the tree? Of all the evil things, that might just be the worst. You could not imagine rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and scurrying over to the tree, just to find it utterly bare. 

He laughs again, waving a hand in the air fast and nervous. “I—don’t worry! I’m not going to hurt you! I just... uh, well, you see...” His words twist and tumble over each other, each racing to come out before the next. “This... usually doesn’t happen, and... Nobody ever wakes up,” he says. “You’ll forget about this in a moment.” 

You look him up and down. The Christmas-red suit, all suede and heavy, the heavy black boots, the cuffs of white tufted fur—you’re not stupid. Maybe shaken, but not stupid. Taking a step back, you say him with measured words, “What are you, some kind of freak that breaks in to people’s homes on Christmas to pretend you’re Santa, or something? A thief?”

Over his soft eyes, his brows shoot up. Still holding the present, he steps toward you with his free hand up to show he means no harm. “No—no, really, you don’t need to be scared. I’m... okay, you might know me as something different, but my name is Soobin. I’m just supposed to be dropping these gifts off, and I’ll be on my way. You won’t even remember you saw me.” 

And, there he goes again, saying that you’ll forget you saw him. Whatever that means. You might be alarmed by his words, and really, you ought to be. But you feel more intrigued than anything. He’s got kind, playful eyes. Maybe the kind that are meant to disarm you before stealing from right under your nose, though.  

What really gets you is that he thinks you might know him. By some other name, or whatever. You’ve never seen him, or another face like him, anywhere in or around your village. The people here do not look like that. Their faces are marred by a life spent working for their upkeep, hands flecked with the weight of their professions. This man? He looks as though he’s never lived a hard day in his life. No wrinkle or scarring—his face is beautifully smooth. You’d know any face, you know everybody here. And you do not know him. 

“I don’t think I believe you,” you say. “And, won’t remember? What’s that supposed to mean?” You hover somewhere between the kitchen and the tree, all lit up with flickering candles.

He closes his eyes, a resigned puff of a laugh falling from his mouth. Soobin shakes his head as he tells you, “Guess it doesn’t matter if I tell you. I’m Santa. Claus. Santa Claus. That’s what you’d know me by.” He pushes his brown, horn-rimmed glasses up his nose. “I don’t get caught. Usually. I don’t know why you were still awake.” Hot cocoa strands of brown hair dust just about his eyes as he takes your form in. 

Right from your chest, a scoff like a laugh comes tumbling. Santa Claus. Seriously, this guy is weird. And, he’s in your home. However he’d gotten in. Shuffling back a few steps for good measure, you say, “Santa Claus. You’re Santa Claus.” 

Brows knitted, he nods his head. As if it were obvious that he was Santa Claus. 

Yeah, okay.

It’s ridiculous. So ridiculous that you have to laugh again, full-chested and in his face this time. “If you don’t leave my home, I’m...” You trail off. You’re not sure what you’ll do this time, but you’ll do something. Maybe laugh a little more at him. 

His eyes drink your form in once more, lingering over the softer parts for a few long moments. Your chest, to be more specific, where you’re sure your nipples peek through where your dress moves over it. When his eyes snap back up to your face, he says, “There’s no need for that. Would you like proof?” 

You arch an inviting brow at him. You’d like to see him try to give you any sort of proof that he’s Santa Claus. That might just be entertaining.

“Well,” he says, setting a present down beside the tree. “If it’s down to that, I know that earlier this year, you and that boy slipped into the barn when you thought nobody was looking. But of course, I knew. That was the first naughty tick you gave yourself this year.” 

Stood only perhaps a step or two ahead of you now, you have to crane your neck to meet his gaze. Slowly, talking to him, you’d started loosening up. But now, you go all rigid again, your face paling. There’s absolutely no way he’d know that—considering the fact that you’d not seen him before this very moment, and that you had done a very thorough scan of the area at the time. You go to answer him, but he’s quick to continue. 

“Are those cookies set out for me?” he says, tilting his head up in a pointing gesture. “If you’re such a believer, why do you not believe that I am him?” 

There a number of thoughts and curiosities clogging rational thought in your mind. This time, instead of brushing him off with a patronizing, sneering laugh, you say, “Well. I... They weren’t... for you. I don’t believe in Santa.” 

“You don’t?” he says, brows furrowed as he looks down at you. “Not even as he stands right in front of you? Tell me: how would I know that you touch yourself in the middle of the night, when you think nobody might know, and you’re in your bed all alone? How would I know exactly how you sound while you do?”  

A strange, strangling fog curls over your thoughts and renders them gone. You don’t even know what you would say to that. Maybe he could just say that about anybody, and it might be true, but the conviction and truth hanging heavy in his gaze as he looks at you with it... You think he means it. You don’t know what that makes you—stupid, or so incredibly screwed.  

The counter at your back gives your heart a startle. Suddenly, you’ve got nowhere to escape his serious eyes. “I don’t... I didn’t...” 

His smile goes taunting. “No cookies, and lying...” he hums. “I don’t think this is the best way to behave when I’m here, dropping off your presents. I even made exceptions this year, just so I could stop by here. I don’t stop for naughty listers.” 

Your face burns. Your skin burns, under that look he’s giving you. The space between you burns, too.  

“I don’t think I was bad,” you say. It’s out before you can really even rationalize it, or any of this. All you can contend with are the furious, fiery butterflies that twist your belly up into knots. The ebbing of something consumptive and hungry between your thighs should concern you, too.  

His big, warm hands find perch on your hips. There’s not much between his touch and your skin—just your flimsy little dress. It feels just as though if he were kneading the bare flesh there, fingers digging crescents into the soft fat. Your breath does a few skips. He smells sweet like spiced musk.

“I think you know perfectly how naughty you were,” Soobin says, his face shedding every last bit of lightheartedness in exchange for something ravenous. His eyes fall on your mouth for just a blink, and then he’s looking right into you. Challenging. 

“Oh, please,” you say, pinching your brows into something falsely sweet and innocent. “I don’t think I do. Won’t you tell me, Santa?” You let the last part, his supposed title, twist out like accustion. Whether he’s Santa or not, you don’t care. Your blood whispers and begs for those hands to venture further in, right to the gnawing want that’s come alive deep in your core. It’s insane, you know that. Still, you follow its pleading.

For a short, lucid moment, his face twitches. And then he’s got your ass in his hands, swallowing it up in needy grabs, and then the cool surface of the counter is biting into the heat of your skin, and then his mouth falls over yours like the most fiery, most carnal Christmas gift. 

He eats up your gasps. His mouth is sure, but his hands are frantic and unmeasured all over you. Feeling up the lengths of your sides, sliding up the smooth of your back, cupping the back of your neck to pull you into licks and bites harder. His hands find your breasts the most, though. You can hardly even make sounds as he rolls his thumbs over your nipples and under the swell of them. He takes the weight of your tits into his hands.  

The dance of your mouths breaks off into panted, hot breaths fanning over faces. He readjusts you upon the surface without a care for the clattering of the platters. Fast and as though he’d been waiting for this, he moves down your neck in blazing licks and suckles. One of his hands takes the back of your head, and the other worships your chest. 

Against your skin, strained, he pants, “I waited just to come to your fucking house. Watched you playing around with those idiots—God, I hated to watch, but I couldn’t look away. Wanted to show you how much better you deserved to be treated. Even naughty girls deserve to cum, don’t they?” 

You’re a mewling, hazy mess, hardly able to register words. Especially ones as hard to wrap around as that. All you do is arch your chest into his hand, cheeks all flushed pink. All you want is for him to make good on that promise. Under his touches, you fully believe him. Not once had your escapades gotten you off correctly. His desperate touch brushes right over that tight ball of sexual frustration, unwinding it slowly. With each bit that he unravels you, you shudder. 

“You are a naughty girl, aren’t you? You sound so sweet when you cum. Can’t I hear it again?” he continues, each word hotter in your neck than the last.  

Your head is all light and floaty. Letting it dangle, you give him a meek and pleading, “Yes.” Every last square inch of you beats alive at the prospect of being watched in on as you desperately squirmed against your bed. By him, at that. And, that it had him all pent up like this. 

His hands fumble at the hem of your dress. Pulling it up and over of your thighs and then past your hips and then up your belly, he says, “My pretty baby deserves it. Gonna make you feel so good—wanna make you feel good.” When your dress is all bunched up over your chest, and the soft swells of your breasts are freed to the air and his eyes, a chill rakes over your blazing skin. Goosebumps raise up and down the entirety of you. 

Brown eyes gone different, his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He rests a palm right at your ribcage, so eager to touch but also so eager to just... gawk. 

Pushing your posture to better display your tits for him, you say, “You… wanna touch them?” 

His gaze flickers up to yours and then back down, tracing over the sight of your hardened nipples against the soft, smooth mounds. “Fuck. Yes, I wanna touch them. Please?” he says, voice wavering. He brushes a thumb up under one. It’s an admiring, impatient touch. 

“Yes,” you whisper. A strange little secret between the two of you. “Please, Soobin.” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He bends just enough to take a pebbled nipple into his mouth. The hot wetness against your eager skin—it douses you in oil and then sets you on fire. Your mouth drops open to allow a long, wavering whine passage. It tapers off into just open-mouthed, quiet gasps as he rolls his tongue around it, peppering kisses into the soft flesh of your breast. Below it, in the valley between, and then he kisses a path right back to your nipple. 

It’s so simple. His touch is reverent—not overwhelming. Just underneath your skin, it all tingles. It pleads for him to continue, to do more. 

Much to your dismay, he is pleased right where he is. With soft bites and drags of his nose, he ravishes your chest. And when he’s finally done and pulls away from your skin, you shiver at the brushing of cool air against the wet mess he’s left there. 

Heavy-lidded eyes find yours. Running his thumb over your bottom lip, he husks, “No cookies out for me...” He delivers a quick nip at your jawline.  

Under a brush of his fingertips along the expanse of your lower belly, you jolt with a tremor. You will your mouth into movement. “I don’t believe in Santa. Why would I set out cookies?” you say; an echo of what you’d said to him before. But this time, his hands are on you. You want to see how that might change things. 

With an abrasive scoff, he doesn’t disappoint. The corns of his lips twitch. “Let me put my hands on you. Fuck you. You’ll believe in him then,” he says, curling his fingers like bites finally into your bare, moldable hips. They receive the shape of his hands willingly. “Are you gonna thank me for making an exception? For stopping by your house, even though you’re filthy?” 

He brushes lower and lower. Keeping your voice on a tight leash, you tell him, “Please, touch me...” 

He laughs, nose crinkling in tease. “If that’s how you want to say thank you,” he says, “I’ll touch you. You’d like that, huh?” 

With that, he finally brushes over your cunt. Profanities spill out from his lips with the wetness that greets him there. Your body does a start at the touch. 

“Yes, please. I love it—for Christmas, please.” Your voice is thin and pleading. 

It’s all Soobin needs to hear to be sliding you off the counter. The world spins around you in a fuzzy, nonsensical blur of warm light. Against your chest, melded against it, the counter top bites cold.

“Fuck,” he curses, the sound coming from behind you. You can feel his gaze searing a trail down the arch of your back. For the nth time, your skin breaks out into a chill. Warm, tracing fingers smooth down the length of it, starting at the center of your shoulders, until he finds the swell of your ass. “Look at you, arching your back like a well-used slut. You really are needy, aren’t you? I knew it. I knew you’d be perfect. And you’re gonna let me fuck you straight, aren’t you?” The words come out hot on your skin, now. Right into the curve your shoulder. “Maybe fuck you so straight, you’ll be at the top of the nice list next year. A pretty little saint. Huh?” 

All you muster is a stupid, pathetic nod. You want nothing more. 

On your clit, the center of your pulsating need, there’s a chaste pinch. Your body revolts, hips twitching violently in escape. The squeak that it rugs from you is equally violent.

“I’m not sure I want that, though.” There’s a rustling behind you, a clinking of silvery metal and then a brushing of thick fabric. Hot and angry and heavy against you, he presses his cock to your clit. “I think I want you on the top of the naughty list, so I can come here and have this every year.” The mushroom tip of him swirling against your needy bud—it’s so much. So much. 

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll be bad for you, Soobin. Please. I want it so much...” You push your back further into a suggestive curve; begging. He’s led you all the way to the water. Won’t he just indulge you with a taste? You don’t care how stupid or ridiculous you sound. 

His hand ventures up the outside of your thigh, smoothing over warm skin, and then around the curve of your hip, and then across your lower belly. It settles and presses there. “Do you hear yourself?” he sneers, voice in your hair. “I’ve got you, baby.” 

The suggestive, almost-there weight of his cock at your hole gives way to the delicious slide of him into you. Each inch is easy and slick. Perhaps you might worry over how utterly drenched you are, but not when all you can feel echoing through your bones and your veins is him finally filling your emptiness. It feels like mercy, more than a gift or present. 

He pulls out of you before even bottoming out. You spin as best you can to see him, brows furrowed. The look you find on his face as you do tells you everything you need to know about how intentional that was. "Soobin, please.” You look up at him through your lashes, trying to goad him with pretty bats of your eyes. Your cheeks flush pink and hot—your whole body is hot. 

“Begging for cock,” he says, a saccharine grin over his mouth. “Such a nasty whore. Whores don’t get Christmas presents. Shouldn’t you thank me for giving you this?” 

You should feel offended. Scandalized, even. No man has ever spoken to you like this, and you wouldn’t have allowed it. But, coming from his mouth, it’s a strange thing. It lays over you heavy, twisted your inhibitions to naught. “Thank you,” you say, pressing your cheek into the cool counter top to combat the burn. “Thank you, so much. Please.” 

When he starts pushing back into you, the gates of heaven materialize in the black behind your eyelids. Curling your fingers around the edge, you savor each and every inch of him once more until you can practically taste it. And then some. He’s big; bigger than anything you’d ever had from the guys around here. How are you ever supposed to go back to that? 

Finally, his hips meet your ass. He takes a moment to shift, taking a handful of your hip to pin it right into the counter. So, you do too; you grip at the edge of the counter. And then he pulls out of you. For a brief moment, you forget how endowed he is. But, of course, he reminds you with a roll. His cock drags along your walls in a way you’ve never known: full. You are full. 

“Gonna ruin you, so that no matter how many times you let them in your bed, all you’ll want is me,” he says. His hips move slow, just so that he can make sure you hear and internalize every word. “And you’ll wait all year just for this, and you’ll think of my touch when you touch yourself.” 

You can’t answer, or say anything really, around your whimpers. His hips stutter, and then he begins thrusting into you with unabated vigor. Each collision of your dancing bodies is punctuated by the hollow smacking of skin. Those sounds and others, such as your whines as his cock nudges right up against that spot that’s got your thighs quaking, and his tense pants, consume the air where the serene crackling of fire had once ruled. 

Though you do try to reel it in, you really do, his hips find a certain angle that makes it all null. You claw at the hand he’s got pressed firmly to your belly. Beneath you, your legs tremble and shake where they dangle down, and your poor abused hip bones ache against the hard surface of the counter as he fucks you into it. The cabinets clatter with it. “Soobin,” you choke. 

With his cheek pressed to the top of your head as he sloppily pounds stars into your vision, he half growls, half whines, “So—so good around me. So good. I couldn’t wait...to help you out. Thank you, baby.” 

The tremor in it, and the absolute neediness, pierces through the haze and does something to you. His free hand runs over you frantically, and his thrusts turn to something less controlled and more bare. More raw. He’d been hitting that sweet, sweet spot before, but this is more insistent. His hand presses harder into your belly to hold you through it, the other one mapping every last square inch of your skin until he’s intimately familiar with it all, and then some. “Fuck,” he grits out. 

All of it, the flame and the blinding touches, go away for a moment. He pulls out from your heat. You go to push off the counter to complain, and you make it half off, but he’s spinning you around and has you hoisted, ass-to-tabletop before you can. Where your front had been, the surface is already body warmed beneath your ass and thighs. 

“Show me your tits,” he says, nudging your thighs open. “Fuck. Will you let me fuck them next time? They're my tits, right? They fit so well in my hands.” 

Between his panted whines and the slide of his cock back into you, you just let your head fall back and obey. Your legs cascade down, twitching and threatening to snap around his waist each time he brushes against that deep, gummy spot. You arch your back into his face and pull your teeth into your mouth, watching him.

He dives into your chest without ceremony. With a hand on one of your hips to steady you against his fucking, he takes a nipple into his mouth. Soobin rolls his tongue and nips with his teeth, all while working the knot in your belly tighter. Each time your chest jumps or concaves against a bite, he pushes you deeper into it with a hand at your back. 

Your voice is hoarse. Though your moans are sweet and whiny, you sound nasty. Deep in your stomach, rumbling and threatening in a way you are not familiar with, something dangerous swirls. Goosebumps usurp smooth skin at the presence of it. As much as you chase it with your hips, your fingers thread through the strands of his hair to brace for it—readying for it to both ruin and fix you.

The sight of him, face deep in your chest, only feeds more fuel into the fire. His lashes flutter against his pink cheeks. 

“You...” you start, cupping the back of his head into you. “H—fuck... Like my tits? Want them to be yours?” 

You’re not quite sure what you’re saying. Around his waist, the muscles in your thighs are taut and your spine tingles. Your head floats. The barrier between spoken word and true thought is eroded down by it all. What is left is utterly bare. 

He releases your nipple, so hard that it tingles, in a wet pop. Pressing his cheek to it as his hips stutter, he says, all nasally, “Yes. Yes, h—oh fuck, yes, baby.” 

His pathetic whines, fallen into the air all tense like the tightness you’re sure he feels in his belly, as you do in yours, have you digging your heels into the bottom of his spine. Urging him in deeper. Closer. 

Hands finding your hips like iron against the softness of powdery snow, his voice cracks. “Wait—no, shit! Baby, I’m gonna.... Holy shit, let me cum on your belly, baby...” 

So, so very close to both exploding and imploding into violent, consuming bliss, you’re not one to deny him that. You let your thighs fall open, bracing against his biceps, and then just the slightest brush of his groin up into your throbbing clit has the world smearing into nothing around you. 

All of you, every last muscle, goes rigid in the wake of it. And then, with a brilliant, incandescent crashing of symbols and release, you cum. Deep in your thighs and up your back and right in your core, where you clamp down on him hard, you are wracked with twisting muscles. Alternating between desperate whines and being able to get no sounds out, you fight through the blistering presence of your orgasm. 

He watches you, eyes on every micro expression falling over your face, with blown eyes. And then, his hips stutter for the final time. In a frantic hurry, he slips out of you with an obscene pop. He holds his cock over you, fist working up and down it in slick, wet rolls. He lets his head loll back, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

You watch his belly go all tight, and his sweet face screw up tight. Then, from his weeping pink tip, he shoots sparkling, hot white spurts all down on your belly. It pools heavy and warm against your skin. 

Finally, he collapses boneless into your front. With his face notched into your neck, he slides his hand up and down his cock a few more times. You two pant into each other’s skin for a few long, exhausted moments. 

He finally pulls back to look you in the eyes, cheeks tinted pink and twitching with a dimple. He releases your hip with one hand, reaching behind you in search of something. When his hand reappears, he’s holding one of those cookies you’d baked hours ago.  

You go to ask him something snarky, like fucked yourself hungry? but you’re interrupted when he runs the cookie up your belly, scooping up ribbons of his cum like dipping cookies in milk. He brings it to your mouth. 

“Open up,” he says, a cheeky, lazy grin smeared over his mouth. “You like milk with your cookies, don’t you?”  

You gape at him, dumbstruck. Still, beside yourself, you open your mouth and take a generous chunk out of it. The musk of him melts down against the cinnamon and ginger snap in your mouth. You savor it on your tongue before making a show of swallowing it all down, holding his eyes. Soobin watches, hawklike, until you’ve got it down.  

“Still don’t believe in Santa?” he says, running a hand through your mess of hair.  

You’d believed in Santa the whole way through. But, he doesn’t need to know that. As he presses one chaste, parting kiss to your neck, you can only hope that Santa might make a generous stop by your place next year too. No matter how naughty you are.  

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

✎୭ ashlynn's note LIKE?? come back next yr pls, soobin.

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[gardnhee]

edging with choi soobin !

𝜗𝜚 warning(s). pure FILTH, edging (duh), fluff, cursing, combination of praise and degradation, switch!soobin, yn is a little mean :(, soobin is a mess, cum eating, sloppy bj, soobin begs like… ALOT, intentional lowercase - lmk if i missed anything !

𝜗𝜚 switch!soobin x switch!afab!reader

𝜗𝜚 song rec(s). if you think im pretty - artemas, mmmh - kai

𝜗𝜚 wc. 1k

𝜗𝜚 note. yes this is absolute filth, no i am not ashamed. enjoy! ૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა ♡

“f-fuck!” soobin whimpers as you pull your hand away for the nth time today, “baby please…” he breathed, “let me cum, please…” you give him a sly smile, earning a frustrated groan from him.

“you wanna cum?”

his head immediately snaps back to you, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “y-yes..” you grab his dick again, angry red from all the stimulation- or lack thereof- it's been receiving.

soobin moans, the back of his hand placed on his forehead while the other grips the sheets beneath him. his chest heaves, entirely naked as you’re fully clothed. at first he thought it was unfair, but right now that’s the least of his worries. he just wants to cum.

he doesn't know how long you’ve been on your knees, or how long he’s been sitting on the edge of the bed; all he knows is that the familiar coil is building up again. “t-thank you … princess!” soobin strains, violently shaking as his orgasm is right around the corner. within reach. it’s right there…all he needs to do is-

you take your hand away.

he pouts.

“what the hell-!”

“i didn’t say i was going to let you cum, i simply asked if you wanted to cum.”

soobin scowls at your snarky remark, both hands gripping the grey sheets, knuckles turning white.

you snort, “so pathetic.” his cock twitches as he whines, “such a whore.” you grimace, slapping his cheek gently. with your fingers now digging into both sides of his face, you smash your lips together, drinking up every unholy sound shared in between.

to say you were taken aback was far from what you actually felt. your boyfriend - now reduced to a moaning, drooling mess- didn’t believe you could get him to this state…oh he was terribly wrong.

“you … what?”

“i want you to take the lead today, yn.” soobin stared at you with intent, “i want to see what you can do.” he smirks, leaning over the table, dinner long forgotten.

“are you underestimating me, choi soobin?”

“hmmm, maybe? but you can always prove me wrong..” his eyes travel to your shared bedroom, jutting his chin towards it.

and that’s how you ended up here, straddling him as his hard on rests on your stomach, standing tall and proud as it desperately awaits its release.

“baby - mff - please…” tears are brimming his eyes.

“hm? please what?” you taunt him, you always taunt him, and he curses himself for liking it more than he could admit.

“i need it … please.” soobin hiccups, tears now falling from his lash line. you bite your lip as you feel his hands squeeze your ass. he just looked so…fucking good.

disheveled blonde hair, a sheer coat of sweat covering his body, and drool pooling at the corners of his mouth. just a mess. a moan inducing mess. you’re nothing away from handing him the reigns and letting him use you however he damn well pleased.

you sigh, “fine. fine! i’ll let you have it just this once.” he eagerly smiles, hugging you tight as he presses his face into your chest.

“thank you…” soobin’s tears seep into your - his - shirt, making you shudder as they made contact with the skin underneath.

“i was going to walk out on you just like you do to me, but i’m feeling generous today.” he playfully gasps as you reveal your initial plan, kneeling down between his thighs once more. you quietly wince as the pain flourishes again, spreading along your leg muscles considering you’ve been putting pressure on them for hours.

you grab his dick, heavy and hot in hand. one thing about your boyfriend, he’s big. like…big. making space for him in your mouth was always a challenge no matter how many times you’ve done just that; you’re beyond grateful that he guides you through it with small, breathy praises and coos.

“yeah…just like that��careful…” soobin’s voice turned husky, propping himself on his elbows as he watched you bob your head. his eyebrows knit together in pure concentration, relishing in the intense pleasure. teeth sink into his swollen lips, holding any and all noises from slipping.

you pop him out of your mouth, “don’t hold back, you haven’t until now…” his cheeks turn bright red, nodding obediently.

“good boy.” soobin gulps, following your every movement. you wrap your lips around his shaft, “ah!- be careful i’m sensitive…” he utters, body continuously shaking as you sink your head until your nose taps his pubic bone.

“f-fuck im close…”

you hum in approval, greedily ripping a loud hiss from his throat. “you’re s-so fucking…” he starts, head falling back, “so fucking good, baby…” hand flying up to your head, he pushes you down, gag emanating from your sore throat as more saliva dribbles down your chin and onto his base.

you swirl your tongue, feeling every prominent vein that basically pulsates to the touch. “‘m cumming…!” soobin announces, trembling as his orgasm hits him like a wave. incoherent words that you doubt could ever become proper sentences.

you smile as his load hits your throat. “don’t swallow, dollface.” he leans forward, cupping your cheeks, “open.” the blonde haired boy demands, “mmmh.” he smiles, kissing you passionately. the older male smirked against your skin as his juices fall on his tongue. the whole act of cum eating was so intriguing to him- beyond arousing, he thought.

“c’mere.” he wraps his arms around your waist, manhandling you to sit on him again. “it’s your turn, yeah?” your boyfriend says, eyes zeroing in on your neck, then your collarbones. “by the way, you look so sexy in my shirt.” he connects his lips to your supple skin as you feel yourself relax under his hold.

“soobin?”

“hm?”

“i love you.”

he pulls back, beaming smile tugging at his lips, “oh, baby, i love you more.” he gives you a quick peck.

“here, lay down,” he instructs.

“what are you planning?” you frown, brows quirking up in wonder.

“i want to return the favor.”

you shake your head, “no baby, it’s okay. i did this out of pure pleasure. i don’t expect anything back.”

“you sure, love?”

“yes, soobinnie. i want to cuddle.”

he lays in bed with you, completely disregarding the fact that he’s sweaty and naked. but you didn’t mind as you lie your head on his firm chest, falling asleep to his steady heartbeat.

© GARDNHEE 2024, do not copy, modify, or upload on other platforms

𝜗𝜚 big thanks from the bottom of my heart to my amazing proofreader @heartryuu 🤍🤍

𝜗𝜚 this was mainly a smut practice, im not the best at it just yet but i do intend to practice more. also im sorry if the ending felt rushed 🙁 i wrote it in a hurry!!! please like, comment, and reblog. i would highly appreciate that 🫶.

𝜗𝜚 taglist. @stvrliighttt @strawbvrrie @haob1ni (lmk if you’d like to be added to my taglist!!)

[gugugyuu]

for science oneshot ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

Music from your favorite playlist filled the room as you sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through your phone. Beomgyu's head resting on your lap. His hand playing with the edge of your shirt where his fingers are brushing lightly against your skin.

"What are you doing?" he asked yawning, his voice lazy like he was halfway to falling asleep.

"Looking at clothes," you replied, you flashed the screen, holding the phone so he could see the dress you were considering. "Do you think this would look good on me?"

"Why are you asking me that?"

"Because I want your opinion?" you said, confused.

He took your phone from your hands and set it on the coffee table. "I don't need to see the dress. You'd look good in anything, baby." He said as he sat straight. "Or nothing."

Your cheeks turned pink at his sudden boldness. "Beomgyu?!", lightly slapping his arms.

"What?" he asked grinning as he leaned back against the couch. "I'm just telling the truth..." pulling you closer.

You're trying to ignore the way his gaze was fixed on you like you were the most captivating thing he’d ever seen. "You’re such a flirt." you said as you roll your eyes.

"No," Letting his hands wander to your waist. His tone suddenly serious as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "I just know what I like."

Beomgyu pulled you into his lap. You let out a small yelp of surprise, but he just smiled and wrapped his arms around you securely. You stared at him, heart racing at the sincerity in his eyes. "You’re just saying that because you love me."

"Exactly," he said. “Your cute cheeks.” He kissed one of them softly. "Your pretty lips." Another kiss. "Your hands, your legs. Everything."

You couldn't help but giggle, squirming out of his grasp as he peppered kisses all over your face.

"Okay, okay! I get it! You’re obsessed with me!"

"Damn right I am," he whispered, his voice dropping lower as his lips brushed against your ear. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine, and your breath hitched when his hands began to roam your breasts. He teased, your nipples perking up as his fingers brushing against its sensitive skin.

"You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" he continued, his tone dark and laced with desire. "I could fuck you for days."

You felt heat rise in your cheeks. "Beomgyu…" you called out as you let out a soft moan, voice trembling as he dipped his head lower, his lips pressed against the sensitive spot just below your ear.

You felt his dick hardened, poking your behind. He was totally turned on by the moans and reactions you gave just with his words and few touches.

"You're such a good girl." he said, hugging you tighter as his lips pressed at the crook of your neck.

Beomgyu's eyes followed your movement as you turned around, moving on top of him. "You really like my body?" you asked after kissing him hard.

"Like it?" He pulled back slightly, "I love it." His grin turned mischievous as he helped removing your shirt. "In fact, I think I need to admire it more. For science."

You shoved his chest, laughing as your cheeks burned.

And as he continued, you felt yourself relax completely, knowing that with Beomgyu, you’d always be adored.

<back to masterlist> <back to title>

[xzinbdg]

txt reaction to you (as friends) calling them baby

pairing: txt x reader

authors note: so hello! I kind failed already my "posting all week" thing 🥹🥹🥹 but that's bcs I had a fever today...I'm alright now tho so I will try to post for the rest of this week!! we also have a new format to this kind of reactions hope u enjoy it! have fun reading everyone! byebye! 🫶🫶🫶

txt masterlist // my masterlist

[gyorouis]

𐙚 WHY I LOVE YOU - CSB.

— soobin had always known you better than anyone else, and it made the silence between you two more unbearable.

genre: fluff, slight angst but it's just because soobin loves reader sm! established relationship, romance, slice of life.

pairing: boyfriend!soobin x afab!reader

warning: emotional content, themes of self-isolation and self-sabotage, mild conflict, reconciliation, if i forgot anything pls let me know!

wordcount: 7.8k

now playing: orange & lemons — hanggang kailan ୨ৎ

“soobinie~” a sweet voice called out, effortlessly cutting through the hum of conversation that filled the room. soobin’s head turned instinctively, and as his eyes landed on you, his entire face lit up with a warmth that radiated from the depths of his heart. those eyes—bright and full of the same gentle affection that had captured his heart back in college—met his gaze, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“there she is,” taehyun whispered, nudging soobin with a knowing grin.

soobin’s smile softened, the corners of his mouth lifting in a way that only you could bring out of him. “love,” he greeted you, his voice tender. his soft hand made it’s way to your back to caress it.

you beamed, your happiness evident as you took in the sight of everyone gathered around the table. “how are you guys? i haven’t seen you all in so long!” you exclaimed, your voice bubbling with the joy of reunion.

beomgyu glanced up from his phone, a lazy smile playing on his lips. “yeah, i think the last time we all got together was christmas last year, right?” he chuckled, though his attention quickly drifted back to his phone. every now and then, his eyes would dart around the venue, as if he was searching for someone amidst the crowd.

you chuckled, shaking your head. “actually, i’ve been meaning to ask you guys to come over this weekend,” you began, a teasing glint in your eyes as you turned to soobin. “soobin’s been nagging me about how much he misses you all, and he practically begged me to invite you.”

soobin’s eyes widened in mock horror, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “love, i told you not to tell them that,” he protested, his voice tinged with playful embarrassment.

you shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips as you reached out to caress his shoulder. “why not? it’s exactly what you said,” you teased, watching the way he sighed in defeat, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

“you’re still like that? that’s adorable,” hueningkai chimed in, his voice laced with amusement as he watched the interaction between the two of you.

you turned your attention to hueningkai, grinning. “yeah, he’s still too easy to tease,” you confirmed, casting a loving glance at soobin, who now sat up a little straighter, a playful smirk beginning to form on his lips.

“and she still cries whenever we fight,” soobin shot back, his tone light, but the glint in his eyes suggested he wasn’t entirely joking.

“oh yeah! remember that time? soobin actually cried himself to sleep when you wouldn’t talk to him for days,” beomgyu added, his voice teasing as he finally looked up from his phone, a mischievous grin on his face.

soobin’s expression shifted as he shot beomgyu a sharp look. “just shut your mouth and focus on your phone,” he warned, though the laughter in his eyes betrayed any real annoyance.

you blinked, your curiosity piqued. “eh? when was that?” you asked, turning to soobin with a puzzled expression.

taehyun couldn’t resist jumping in. “it’s happened so many times, she doesn’t even remember,” he joked, and the entire table erupted into laughter once more.

leaning closer to soobin, you whispered softly, “when did that happen, love?”soobin’s lips curled into a fond smile as he let his mind wander back to that moment in time. his heart swelled with the memory, but before he could answer, he found himself pulled even further back—back to the very first time he had ever laid eyes on you. the memory was so vivid, so full of color and emotion, that it felt like he was living it all over again. the moment that had changed everything for him—the moment he realized that his life would never be the same because of you.

the clinking of glasses and the low murmur of sophisticated conversation filled the grand dining hall. soobin, dressed in a tailored suit that made him feel more like a stranger to himself, stood quietly at the edge of the room, his hands neatly clasped in front of him. these business dinners were a common occurrence in his life, but they never got any less daunting. the weight of expectations from his father and the high society crowd often left him feeling out of place, like he was wearing a mask that didn’t quite fit.

he scanned the room, his eyes sweeping over the sea of unfamiliar faces, until they landed on someone who stood out from the rest. you. you were dressed elegantly, yet there was something refreshingly unpretentious about you. unlike the other guests, who seemed engrossed in their conversations, you were gazing out of the large windows, your expression serene, as if you were somewhere else entirely. the way the soft lighting played on your features made you look almost ethereal, and soobin found himself drawn to you in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

it was as if the noise of the room faded, leaving just the two of you in that moment. summoning the courage that often eluded him in these settings, he made his way toward you, his heart pounding with a mix of nerves and anticipation. each step felt like it was taking him closer to something significant, something that would alter the course of his life in ways he couldn’t yet comprehend.

“hi,” he greeted, his voice a little softer than he intended. you turned towards him, your eyes meeting his, and the world seemed to stand still. there was a warmth in your gaze that made the formal setting feel a little less intimidating, a little more like a place where he could just be himself.

“hello,” you replied, a small, polite smile gracing your lips. there was something in the way you looked at him that made him feel like you weren’t just seeing the polished exterior he had to present at these events—you were seeing him.

“i’m soobin,” he introduced himself, trying to ignore the awkwardness that threatened to creep into his voice. “my father... well, he’s hosting this dinner.”

“i know who you are,” you said, your smile widening slightly. “i’m y/n. my father works closely with yours. i think we’ve seen each other at a few events, but we’ve never had the chance to talk.” your voice was calm, steady, and it put him at ease in a way he hadn’t expected.

he nodded, suddenly feeling self-conscious under your gaze. “yeah, these events tend to be a bit... overwhelming.”

you chuckled softly, and the sound of it was like music to his ears, a melody that he wanted to hear again and again. “they do. but it’s nice to finally meet you. i’ve heard a lot about you.”

“good things, i hope?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood, though there was an edge of genuine curiosity in his voice.

“mostly,” you teased, and the ease with which you responded made him relax, the tension in his shoulders easing. “i’ve heard you’re quite the scholar.”

soobin’s cheeks tinged pink at the compliment. “i try my best.” there was something endearing about how flustered he felt in your presence, something that made him want to impress you even more.

the conversation flowed effortlessly from there, as if you’d known each other for much longer than just these few minutes. you talked about everything from school to your favorite books, and as the night wore on, soobin found himself completely captivated by you. there was a warmth and genuineness in your words that made him feel like he could talk to you forever, like you were a breath of fresh air in the otherwise stifling atmosphere of the evening.

the way you listened to him, truly listened, with a soft smile and an occasional laugh, made him feel seen in a way that was rare for him. most people saw him as the polished, perfect son of a powerful businessman, but you... you saw something more, something deeper. and that scared him just as much as it thrilled him.

before he knew it, the dinner was winding down, and guests began to make their polite goodbyes. soobin realized with a pang of regret that the evening was coming to an end, and he wasn’t ready to let go of this connection just yet. as you both stood near the entrance, waiting for your parents to finish their farewells, soobin turned to you, a hesitant smile on his lips.

“i really enjoyed talking to you tonight,” he said earnestly, his heart pounding in his chest. “i don’t usually enjoy these events, but... tonight was different.” there was a vulnerability in his words, an unspoken hope that you felt the same way.

you looked up at him, your eyes twinkling with the same gentle affection that would one day become so familiar to him. “i enjoyed it too, soobin. maybe we’ll run into each other again soon.”

“i hope so,” he replied, and he meant it with every fiber of his being. the thought of seeing you again filled him with a quiet anticipation, a hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something special.

as your parents called for you, you gave him one last smile, a soft, lingering look that stayed with him long after you walked out of the grand hall. soobin found himself watching you until you disappeared from view. he didn’t know it then, but that was the moment his life had truly begun to change—the moment he met you.

just a week after meeting you, the universe seemed to have more amazing plans in store for both of you. the university campus buzzed with energy during the university week. booths lined the pathways, each one offering something different—food, games, crafts, and a hundred other distractions that drew students in like moths to a flame. soobin wandered through the crowd with yeonjun, beomgyu, taehyun, and hueningkai, their laughter and banter blending with the lively atmosphere around them.

“i can’t believe you convinced me to skip studying for this,” taehyun muttered, though his lips twitched into a reluctant smile as he watched yeonjun try to win a stuffed animal at one of the game booths.

“come on, you needed a break,” hueningkai chimed in, nudging taehyun with his elbow. “besides, it’s not like you’re actually missing anything important. just think of it as a mental health day.”

“he’s right,” beomgyu added, his eyes scanning the various stalls. soobin chuckled at their playful arguments, but his mind was only half in the conversation. the vibrant colors of the booths and the excited chatter of students filled the air, yet there was something else that caught his attention, something—or rather, someone—that made everything else fade into the background.

it was you.

standing by a fruit stall, you were dressed casually, yet effortlessly chic. your hair cascaded around your shoulders, catching the sunlight and framing your face perfectly. you were smiling, a soft, genuine smile that reached your eyes as you chatted with the vendor, selecting a few fresh strawberries from the display. the sight of you—so natural, so unguarded—took his breath away. he had no idea you went to the same university, but now that he saw you, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed you sooner.

“soobin, you okay?” yeonjun’s voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. he blinked, realizing he had been staring.

“uh, yeah,” soobin replied quickly, trying to sound casual. “i just... i think i see someone i know.” his voice trailed off, his gaze drifting back to you.

the others followed his line of sight, their expressions shifting from curiosity to knowing grins as they spotted you.

“well, well, well,” beomgyu drawled, a teasing lilt in his voice. “who’s this mysterious girl that’s got our soobin all starry-eyed?”

soobin’s cheeks flushed, but he didn’t deny it. “i met her at one of my dad’s business dinners,” he explained, his eyes never leaving you. “i didn’t know she went here.”

“so what are you waiting for?” yeonjun urged, nudging soobin forward. “go talk to her. we’ll cover for you if anyone asks.”

“yeah, man,” hueningkai added with a grin. “you don’t get chances like this every day.”

soobin hesitated for only a moment before he nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. “okay, i’m going,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of nerves and excitement.

as he made his way through the crowd, the noise around him seemed to fade into a distant hum. his focus was solely on you, the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed, the way the sun highlighted the soft waves in your hair, and the way you seemed so at ease in your own world.

when he reached the fruit stall, you looked up, and your eyes met his. recognition flickered across your face, followed by a warm smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“soobin?” you said, a note of surprise in your voice. “what are you doing here?”

“hey,” he greeted, trying to keep his voice steady. “i, uh, didn’t realize we go to the same university.”

you laughed softly, the sound making his heart flutter. “small world, huh? i didn’t know either. it’s nice to see a familiar face in such a big crowd.”

“yeah, it is,” soobin agreed, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease as you continued to smile at him. “what have you been up to? enjoying the university week?”

“yeah, i’ve been checking out the booths and trying all the snacks,” you replied, holding up the small basket of strawberries you’d just purchased. “want one?”

“sure,” soobin said, accepting the strawberry you offered him. as he bit into the juicy fruit, he found himself smiling too. “these are really good.”

“aren’t they? i’ve been coming to this stall since they opened,” you said with a grin. “there’s just something about fresh fruit that makes everything better.”

“i couldn’t agree more,” soobin said, feeling more at ease now that you were talking. he glanced around the bustling campus, then back at you. “do you... maybe want to check out some more booths together?”

your eyes lit up at the suggestion. “i’d love that.”

the rest of the day passed in a blur of laughter and easy conversation. you and soobin tried different snacks, played games at the booths, and even got caught up in a spontaneous dance performance by a group of students. everything felt so natural, so right, that it was easy to forget about the world outside this little bubble you’d created together.

as the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the campus, you found yourselves sitting on a bench near the fountain, the gentle sound of water mingling with the distant music from the celebration.

“this was really nice,” you said, leaning back and closing your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of the day settle into your bones. “i didn’t expect to have such a good time today.”

“me neither,” soobin replied, watching you with a soft smile. “i’m glad we got to spend it together.”

you opened your eyes and turned to him, your expression thoughtful. “couldn't agree more.”

over the next few weeks, soobin found himself increasingly eager to see you again. it began subtly. one evening, as you were heading back to your dorm after a long day of classes, you noticed soobin standing near the entrance, seemingly engrossed in his phone. his eyes lit up when he saw you, and he greeted you with that warm, familiar smile.

“hey,” he said casually, as if it were perfectly normal for him to be there.

“hey, soobin,” you replied, slightly surprised. “what’s up?”

“oh, just waiting for a friend,” he said with a shrug. “what about you?”

“just heading back to my room,” you said, trying to shake off the odd feeling. “care to join me for a coffee? it’s been a long day.”

“i’d love to,” soobin said, falling into step beside you as you walked towards the café.

this happened a few more times over the next few weeks. soobin would suddenly appear near your building, as if by coincidence, just when you were about to head out or take a break. each time, he greeted you with that same easy smile and casual demeanor, making it seem like he was always in the right place at the right time.

one day, as you were walking to the library, you saw him sitting on a bench, pretending to read a book. his eyes met yours, and he waved enthusiastically.

“hi again,” he said, his tone cheerful.

“hi, soobin,” you replied, trying to mask your curiosity. “you seem to be around here a lot lately.”

“yeah,” he admitted, looking slightly embarrassed. “i guess i just like this spot. it’s peaceful.”

you chuckled softly. “well, it’s nice to see you.”

the conversations continued effortlessly, and you began to enjoy these spontaneous encounters. the first time you noticed it, it was a chilly autumn afternoon. you had just finished a long day of classes and were walking back to your dorm, the crunch of fallen leaves beneath your feet. as you approached the entrance to your building, you saw him—soobin, standing casually by the front steps, as if he had just happened to be there. his eyes lit up when he saw you, and he waved.

“hey, fancy seeing you here,” he greeted with a smile that seemed just a little too perfect for a coincidence.

you raised an eyebrow, trying to mask your curiosity. “hey, soobin. what brings you here?”

“oh, just passing by,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. “thought i’d see if you were around.”

you shrugged off the odd feeling, chalking it up to chance. after all, it was a big campus, and he could have been in the area for any number of reasons. but as the days went by, these chance encounters started to become more frequent.

one morning, as you were heading to the library, you spotted soobin in the distance, sitting on a bench, engrossed in a book, again. the same book that you’ve been seeing him read. he looked up just as you approached and smiled warmly.

“good morning,” he called out, his voice carrying through the crisp air.

“good morning,” you replied, your curiosity piqued. “you seem to be here a lot lately.”

“yeah,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “guess i just enjoy this spot. it’s nice and quiet.”

“it is,” you agreed, sitting down beside him. “do you come here often?”

“only when i get a chance,” he said, glancing at you with a look that seemed to say there was more to it. “it’s a good place to clear my head.”

the two of you chatted for a while, the conversation flowing easily as always. but what you didn’t know was that this was no random occurrence. soobin had planned it with his friends. they had been giving him tips on where you would be, thanks to their own observations and a bit of discreet information sharing.

a few days later, you were at the campus café, waiting in line for your coffee when soobin appeared at the counter, ordering the same drink as you. he gave you a friendly wave when he saw you.

“what a coincidence,” you remarked, raising an eyebrow.

“seems like it,” he said with a grin, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “mind if i join you?”

“sure,” you said, gesturing to the empty seat across from you.

they were always pleasant encounters, but the repetition made you wonder if there was more to them. you mentioned it to your friend, mina, who laughed it off.

“maybe he’s just really into the same places you are,” she suggested, though there was a hint of teasing in her voice.

then came a rainy afternoon. you were huddled under an umbrella, making your way to a small bookstore you loved. as you reached the entrance, you saw soobin leaning against the door frame, checking his phone. he looked up and his face brightened.

“again?” you asked, feigning surprise.

“again,” he replied with a chuckle. “you seem to have great taste in bookstores.”

“or you just follow me around,” you teased.

soobin laughed, shaking his head. “i swear, it’s just a coincidence.”

this was all part of a plan that had been set in motion by soobin and his friends. they had been working behind the scenes to make these “accidental” meetings happen. beomgyu and yeonjun, who had a knack for knowing your schedule, were often the ones feeding soobin with tips about where you might be. taehyun and hueningkai, always ready with a bit of distraction, made sure that soobin was always in the right place at the right time.

one evening, after another of these coincidental encounters, soobin and his friends gathered at a café near campus. the group was huddled around a table, laughing and chatting about their day.

“so, how’s the mission going?” beomgyu asked, sipping his coffee.

“it’s going well,” soobin replied, glancing at his phone. “we’ve managed to bump into her a lot.”

“it’s like magic,” hueningkai teased. “almost like you’re everywhere she is.”

“i just hope she doesn’t catch on.”

“she’s smart,” yeonjun warned, “but she also likes you. if you keep this up, you might just win her over.” soobin smiled, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

and as for you, while you couldn’t deny the growing affection you felt for soobin, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that these meetings were more than just coincidence. you just weren’t sure yet whether to laugh about it or confront him about it.

one afternoon, as you and soobin wandered through a park, the warm sunlight filtering through the leaves, you decided to broach a topic that had been on your mind for a while.

“soobin,” you began, a playful edge to your voice, “do you have some kind of magical power that makes you show up wherever i am?”

he looked at you, his eyes twinkling with a mix of surprise and amusement. “maybe i do,” he said with a grin. “or maybe i just really enjoy your company.”

“you know,” you said, teasingly, “if you keep this up, people might start talking.”

“let them talk,” he replied, his smile widening.

as the two of you continued your walk, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. the laughter and chatter of the park faded into the background as you both reveled in the easy comfort of each other’s presence. it was in this quiet, stolen moment that you began to wonder if these coincidences might be leading to something more than you had ever imagined.

your curiosity got the better of you, and you suddenly asked, “i’m starting to think that you like me.”

soobin’s eyes widened in surprise, but then he grinned, that familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes. “you’re not so slow,” he said, his tone teasing. “oh, so i was right…” you chuckled, covering your face as a blush spread across your cheeks. “when did it start?” you added, still grinning.

“the business party,” he admitted bluntly, his tone carrying a mix of nostalgia and warmth.

“wow… just… wow. that long?” you asked, incredulous. “yeah. is there a problem?” he asked, a hint of concern creeping into his voice.

“yeah,” you said, your tone serious but with a twinkle of amusement. soobin’s face fell, panic flashing in his eyes as he avoided meeting your gaze. “w-why?” he stammered.

“because it took you too long to confess when i’ve been waiting for you to,” you said, trying to hide your smile.

soobin looked up at you, his eyes meeting your sweet gaze. “waiting, since?” he asked.

you rolled your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “i don’t know when exactly, but i probably started liking you when I would run into you ‘accidentally,’” you said, making air quotes around the word “accidentally.”

“am i obvious?” he asked shyly, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“too obvious,” you said with a laugh, “that I was starting to get frustrated because you wouldn’t just come to me and say, ‘hey, i like you, let’s go out.’ i mean, i would say yes immediately. you just have to tell me—”

but your words were cut off when soobin pulled you closer. his eyes searched yours for a moment, and then he asked, “would you mind if i kiss you?”

you were taken aback by his sudden courage, but you found yourself smiling warmly. “i don’t mind,” you said softly.

slowly, as if savoring every moment, soobin’s lips met yours. the kiss was gentle at first, a tender exploration that spoke volumes of the feelings that had been building between you. in that shared, quiet space, everything else seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you and the promise of something beautiful unfolding.

as your relationship with soobin deepened, the two of you discovered so much about each other, learning the small quirks and habits that made you both unique. each moment, each discovery, only brought you closer. one of the things soobin quickly learned about you was your love for movies, especially ones with complex plots that made you think. every friday, you and soobin would settle in for a movie night, a bowl of popcorn between you, and a stack of your favorite films on the coffee table. it became a ritual, a quiet time that the two of you cherished.

“you always pick the best movies,” soobin remarked one evening, as the credits rolled on another mind-bending thriller.

you smiled, snuggling closer to him on the couch. “i just like movies that make you think, you know? ones that stay with you long after they’re over.”

soobin nodded, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. “i’ve noticed,” he said, his voice soft. “you always have that little furrow between your brows when you’re really into the plot, like you’re trying to solve the puzzle before it ends.”

you laughed, nudging him playfully. “you’re so observant, soobin. i didn’t even realize i did that.”

“it’s one of the things i love about you,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “you’re always thinking, always analyzing. it’s fascinating to watch.”

soobin also learned that you had a weakness for a particular type of snack: spicy chips. it wasn’t just a casual liking; it was an obsession. he noticed how your eyes would light up whenever you spotted a bag in the store, how you’d always grab one or two, even if you had plenty at home.

one afternoon, after a particularly long day from school, you came home to find a surprise waiting for you. on the kitchen counter was a small basket filled with all your favorite snacks, including a few bags of your beloved spicy chips. a small note was attached to the basket, written in soobin’s neat handwriting: just in case you need a pick-me-up. love, soobin.

you smiled to yourself, feeling a warm rush of affection for him. “you’re too good to me, soobin,” you said as you found him in the living room, leaning over the back of the couch to give him a kiss on the cheek.

he looked up at you with a shy smile. “i just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed. i know how much you love those chips.”

“i do,” you said, laughing softly. “but i love you more.”

as the months went by, soobin also learned the little things about your daily routines. he noticed how you liked to start your mornings with a cup of tea instead of coffee, how you always needed a few minutes to yourself after waking up, just to gather your thoughts for the day ahead. he made a habit of quietly making your tea for you in the mornings, leaving it on the kitchen counter for you to find when you came downstairs.

“you’re spoiling me like a child” you teased one morning as you took a sip of the tea he had prepared for you.

“i just want to make your mornings a little easier,” soobin said with a smile, leaning against the counter as he watched you.

“you always know exactly what i need,” you said, your voice soft with gratitude. “even when i don’t say anything.”

“i pay attention,” he said simply. “i like knowing the little things about you. it’s what makes us… us.”

soobin also learned about your fears, the things that made you anxious or worried. he noticed how you would get quiet whenever something was bothering you, how you would retreat into yourself, trying to work through your thoughts alone. it took time, but he gradually learned how to gently coax you out of those moments, offering comfort and understanding without pushing too hard.

one night, after a particularly stressful day, you found yourself overwhelmed by worries that you couldn’t quite shake. you were sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in thought, when soobin came in and sat beside you.

“what’s on your mind?” he asked softly, his hand resting on your back.

you sighed, feeling the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “just… everything,” you admitted. “sometimes it feels like it’s all too much.”

soobin nodded, understanding without needing to ask for details. “you don’t have to go through it alone,” he said gently. “i’m here, and i’ll always be here. whatever it is, we can face it together.”

you looked at him, your heart swelling with gratitude. “i don’t know what i’d do without you, soobin.”

“you’ll never have to find out,” he said, his voice filled with quiet determination. “i’m not going anywhere.”

soobin had always been observant, especially when it came to you. he noticed the little things—the way your eyes would dart away when you were avoiding something, the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes when you were trying to hide how you really felt. it was something that became more apparent as time went on, particularly when the stress of school began to weigh heavily on you.

one afternoon, as the two of you sat together in the university courtyard, soobin noticed that you seemed distant. you were both supposed to be studying for an upcoming exam, but while soobin’s notes were spread out in front of him, yours remained untouched. instead, you were staring off into the distance, your expression blank.

“hey,” soobin said softly, reaching out to touch your hand. “are you okay?”

you blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and turned to him with a forced smile. “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking.”

he wasn’t convinced. “you sure? you’ve been really quiet lately.”

you nodded, trying to brush off his concern. “just tired, that’s all.”

but soobin knew better. he had seen this before—the way you would retreat into yourself when things got overwhelming. it was your way of coping, but it also meant shutting out the people who cared about you. he hated seeing you like this, carrying all that weight alone.

a few days later, the pattern continued. you’d been more withdrawn than usual, spending most of your time buried in your books, but soobin could see the tension in your posture, the way your hands trembled slightly when you thought no one was looking. it was obvious that something was bothering you, but every time he asked, you just shrugged it off with a half-hearted “i’m fine.”

one evening, after another long day of classes, soobin decided he couldn’t just let this continue. you were sitting at your desk in your room, your laptop open but your attention elsewhere. he knocked lightly on the door before stepping inside.

“can we talk?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you looked up, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. “about what?”

“about you,” he said, pulling up a chair to sit beside you. “i’ve noticed you’ve been really quiet lately. and i know you keep saying you’re fine, but… i don’t think you are.”

you sighed, closing your laptop and leaning back in your chair. “i’m just… stressed. school, everything. it’s a lot.”

“i know it is,” soobin said, his eyes soft with concern. “but you don’t have to go through it alone. you know that, right?”

you looked down at your hands, avoiding his gaze. “i don’t want to be a burden.”

“you’re not a burden,” he said firmly, reaching out to take your hand. “i care about you, and it hurts me to see you struggling like this. i want to help, but i can’t if you keep pushing me away.”

you felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of his words sinking in. “i just… i don’t know how to ask for help,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“you don’t have to ask,” soobin said, squeezing your hand gently. “i’m here for you, always. whether you want to talk, or just need someone to sit with you in silence, i’m here.”

tears welled up in your eyes, the emotions you’d been bottling up finally coming to the surface. “i’m scared, soobin,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “scared of failing, scared of letting everyone down… letting you down.”

“you could never let me down,” soobin said, his voice soft but unwavering. “you’re doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask for. and no matter what happens, i’ll be here for you, okay? we’ll get through this together.”

you nodded, tears spilling down your cheeks trying to let go of the walls you’d built around yourself. soobin pulled you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as you cried softly against his shoulder.

but despite his reassurances, you found yourself slipping back into old habits. the demands of school, the pressure to excel—it all felt like too much. and so you started shutting soobin out again, telling yourself that you didn’t want to burden him with your problems.

whenever soobin tried to talk to you about what was bothering you, you brushed him off with the same excuse: “i’m fine, really. just tired.”

he could see the exhaustion in your eyes, the way your shoulders slumped under the weight of everything you were carrying. it broke his heart to see you like this, but no matter how hard he tried, you wouldn’t let him in.

it all came to a head on the day of your second anniversary. the day was supposed to be special, a celebration of two years together. soobin had been planning for weeks, arranging a surprise dinner, getting you a thoughtful gift. he couldn’t wait to see the smile on your face when he surprised you.

but when he arrived at your apartment that evening, his excitement was quickly dashed. you greeted him with a tired expression, your eyes puffy and red as if you’d been crying. the room was dark, the usual warmth replaced with a cold silence that made soobin’s heart sink.

“hey,” he said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “what’s wrong?”

you shook your head, trying to force a smile. “nothing, just… had a rough day.”

soobin could see right through you, but he didn’t want to push too hard. instead, he pulled you into a hug, hoping to comfort you. “come on, let’s sit down. i brought your favorite.”

he led you to the couch and sat down beside you, pulling you close. “you seem to be forgetting something,” he teased gently, trying to lighten the mood.

you looked at him, confused. “what did i forget? oh my god, i’m sorry.”

“think about it,” soobin said, a playful smile on his face.

“just tell me already,” you said, frustration creeping into your voice.

“no, i won’t. guess it,” he teased, his tone light.

but instead of laughing, you felt a surge of irritation. everything felt overwhelming—the stress of school, the weight of your problems, and now soobin’s playful teasing. it was too much.

“soobin, just stop,” you snapped, your voice harsher than you intended.

he blinked, taken aback by your sudden outburst. “what’s wrong?”

“everything!” you burst out, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “i’m stressed, i’m exhausted, and i can’t handle it anymore! and now you’re sitting here teasing me like everything’s fine when it’s not!”

soobin’s eyes widened in shock, but he quickly composed himself. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know you were going through this…” he said softly, his voice filled with concern.

“how would you know when you never ask?” you shot back, tears welling up in your eyes. “i’m drowning here, soobin, and you’re acting like everything’s okay!”

“i always do, love. i always ask,” soobin said, his voice breaking slightly. “but you always push me away…”

the room fell into a heavy silence, your harsh words hanging in the air. soobin looked at you with such sadness in his eyes, it made your heart ache.

“let’s talk tomorrow,” he said quietly, his voice full of hurt. “come on, let me wash you up.”

he led you to the bathroom, his hands gentle as he helped you wash away the tears and the stress of the day. you were both quiet, the tension from your argument still lingering in the air.

as he wiped your face with a towel, he finally broke the silence. “i’ll leave something for you to eat tomorrow. please eat, okay?” his voice was soft, almost pleading.

you nodded, unable to find the words to respond. after sending you to bed, he caressed your face gently, his touch tender despite everything that had happened. “rest now. i’ll leave when you’re asleep.”

you felt tears prick at your eyes again as you watched him, his caring nature only making the guilt in your chest grow heavier. you wanted to apologize, to ask him to stay the night, but the words wouldn’t come out.

soobin leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, his touch full of love and understanding. “happy anniversary, love. i love you,” he whispered.

as your eyes slowly drifted shut, exhausted from crying, you felt soobin’s hand gently brush your hair back. he stayed for a moment, watching you as you fell asleep, before quietly leaving the room.

later that night, soobin found himself sitting on a bench in a nearby park, the weight of the evening pressing down on him. he pulled out his phone and called beomgyu, his voice trembling as he explained what had happened.

“give her time,” beomgyu advised after listening to soobin’s story. “she’s going through a lot, and sometimes people just need space to process everything.”

“but what if she needs me?” soobin asked, his voice laced with worry.

“she does,” beomgyu replied, “but you can’t force her to open up. just let her know you’re there for her, and she’ll come to you when she’s ready.”

“i guess you’re right,” soobin sighed, his heart heavy.

taehyun, who had been listening quietly, chimed in. “you shouldn’t have left her alone in the first place. if you really love her, you should stay and support her.”

beomgyu frowned, disagreeing. “soobin’s here because he doesn’t want to push her too hard. he knows what she needs.”

soobin remained silent, torn between his friends’ advice. he knew they both had valid points, but he wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was.

when he returned to his apartment, he felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally. he sat down on his bed, his mind replaying the events of the evening over and over.

meanwhile, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. you felt a deep sense of regret for how you had treated soobin, but you didn’t know how to make things right. the weight of your responsibilities and the stress of school had been overwhelming, and you hadn’t meant to take it out on him.

soobin had always known you better than anyone else, and it was that knowledge that made the silence between you two even more unbearable. days had passed since your argument on your anniversary, and while soobin had tried to give you the space you needed, the emptiness in his chest grew with each passing moment without you.

he missed everything about you—your laughter, your warmth, the way your eyes sparkled when you were excited. but most of all, he missed the way you made him feel like he was the luckiest person in the world just by being by his side.

one evening, as the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the city, soobin found himself walking towards your apartment, his heart pounding in his chest. he couldn’t wait any longer; he needed to see you, to hold you, to tell you how much he loved you.

when he reached your door, he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorbell. he wasn’t sure how you would react, but he knew that he had to try. taking a deep breath, he pressed the doorbell, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway.

a few moments later, the door opened, and there you stood, your eyes wide with surprise. you looked tired, but beautiful as ever, and the sight of you made soobin’s heart ache.

“soobin…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“hi,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “can we talk?”

you nodded, stepping aside to let him in. the two of you stood in the middle of your living room, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words.

“i’ve missed you,” soobin finally said, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve missed you so much.”

your eyes filled with tears, and you looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “i’m so sorry, soobin… for everything. i didn’t mean to push you away. i just… i didn’t know how to handle everything.”

soobin stepped closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. “you don’t have to apologize, love. i’m sorry for not being there for you when you needed me the most. i should have tried harder to understand what you were going through.”

you shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “no, it’s not your fault. i was scared, soobin. scared that i wasn’t good enough, that i was letting you down… and instead of talking to you, i pushed you away.”

soobin’s heart broke at the sight of your tears, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you sobbed against his chest. “shhh, it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice soothing. “i’m here now, and i’m not going anywhere. we’ll get through this together, i promise.”

you clung to him, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if you were afraid he might disappear. “i don’t want to lose you, soobin,” you choked out, your voice muffled against his chest.

“you won’t lose me,” soobin said firmly, his hand gently rubbing your back. “i love you, more than anything in this world. nothing will ever change that.”

you pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “i love you too, soobin. i’ve never stopped loving you.”

soobin smiled, his eyes soft with affection as he wiped away your tears with his thumb. “then that’s all that matters,” he said softly. “we’ll take it one step at a time, together.”

he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “i’ve been so worried about you,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. “i just want you to be happy.”

“i am happy,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “as long as i have you, i’m happy.”

soobin’s heart swelled with love, and he pressed a tender kiss to your lips, pouring all of his feelings into that one kiss. it was soft, sweet, and filled with all the love and devotion he had for you.

when he pulled back, he looked into your eyes, his own shining with tears. “we’re going to be okay,” he said, his voice full of conviction. “as long as we have each other, we can get through anything.”

you nodded, a small smile finally breaking through the tears. “together,” you echoed, your voice filled with hope.

soobin smiled, his heart feeling lighter than it had in days. he pulled you close again, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight, as if he never wanted to let you go.

the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside fading away. in that moment, nothing else mattered but the love you shared—the love that had weathered storms, faced challenges, and come out stronger on the other side.

and so, slowly but surely, you began to let soobin back into your life. it wasn’t easy, and there were still days when you struggled, but knowing that he was there for you made all the difference. he continued to support you, never pushing you too hard, but always reminding you that he was there whenever you needed him.

as the weeks went by, you began to feel more like yourself again. the weight of your responsibilities didn’t seem as overwhelming anymore, and you were able to focus on the things that really mattered—your relationship with soobin, your friends, and your own well-being.

and through it all, soobin remained by your side, his love for you unwavering. he never once made you feel like you were a burden, and he always reminded you of how proud he was of you, no matter what.

it was in those moments that you realized just how lucky you were to have someone like soobin in your life. someone who loved you, flaws and all, and who was willing to stand by you through the ups and downs.

“so you really cried that time?” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

soobin shrugged his shoulders, trying to maintain a nonchalant air. “they’re over-exaggerating everything.”

“sure, sure,” you said, grinning.

you both laughed together, the sound of your shared amusement filling the room. soobin playfully nudged you, and you nudged him back, each of you trying to outdo the other in a light-hearted battle of teasing.

the table filled with memories of youth, all of you continued to chat and laugh, the warmth of the evening filled with shared stories and laughter, a reminder of how far you had come and how much more you had to look forward to.

as the night drew to a close, you and soobin knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together, with love, laughter, and a bond that had only grown stronger over time. taehyun on the other hand starts noticing beomgyu fidgeting on his seat, “you good man?” he asks. “how do i look?” he asks, touching his hair. “chill dude, have you seen her around?” taehyun’s eyes roamed around the venue. “oh fuck,” taehyun whispers. “why?” beomgyu panics, “she’s here, dude.” his voice was a little loud and it had everyone’s attention. “who’s here?” kai asks. “beomgyu’s heartbreaker.” 

gyo's note: heyyy, i'm sorry i didn’t get to post yesterday, and i might change the posting schedule for alumni homecoming. this will be the last post for the week; the rest will be posted next week, starting on monday. ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ i kind of had a hard time writing this bcs i haven't had a healthy relationship before (ᵕ—ᴗ—) lol, but yeah, i hope you liked it! if you made it to this part, thank you so much. you will be loved, xoxo.

✮ 2024 gyorouis, all rights reserved.

[sxmmerberries]

"Pretty Hands" - choi soobin x reader

˚　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　☆　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★ ⋆.

✦　.   ☆　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　☆  ˚　.˚

©sxmmerberries

more txt fics

[enluv]

ex-boyfriends describe their relationship with the same person w/ txt’s choi line!

choi yeonjun x fem!reader, choi soobin x fem!reader, choi beomgyu x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, itty bitty angst, mostly fluff, mentions of past relationships

word count?! ooo ermmmmmm good question…it’s long…

coco's love note: this is based off a video made by glamor titled "3 ex-boyfriends describe their relationship with the same woman", I may make this a series so lmk which other idols you'd like to see (from who I currently write for)!

video preview starts: now!

[y/n sits comfortably in a chair as her interview begins]

Y/N: How would my exes, describe our relationship?

[the video cuts to a pink screen with the words that follow it below]

We brought in three of Y/N's exes:

Ex #1 – Choi Yeonjun [he is seen smirking at the camera]

Ex #2 – Choi Soobin [he smiles shyly at the camera in front of him]

Ex #3 – Choi Beomgyu [sits nonchalantly while "shooting" the camera]

And asked each about their experience dating her.

[y/n will ask all the questions presented in bold unless stated otherwise]

— So we met at?

Yeonjun: A dance studio near the area we both worked in.

Soobin: The bakery my aunt owns that I sometimes work at on the weekends.

Beomgyu: A pet store near my house.

— My type is?

Yeonjun: [he contemplates his answer before saying] Well me of course...just kidding she likes fun guys, the confident ones.

Soobin: The sentimental type maybe or the party guys.

Beomgyu: A guy who can hold their own but still love her.

— He was attracted to my?

Yeonjun: Her dancing of course. The energy along with it was always so captivating.

Soobin: Her smile was really pretty.

Beomgyu: Her energy, she was always smiling or laughing and I really liked that.

— And I was attracted to his?

Yeonjun: She always told me she loved the way I could "light up" a room just by walking in so I think the energy I gave and how I present myself.

Y/N: The way he presents himself to a room full of people he's never met will always leave an impact on me.

Soobin: My height and if she tells you otherwise it's a lie!

Y/N: His...caring nature? [she laughs as the producer calls her out for her blatant lie] okay okay! His height was crazy!

Beomgyu: My handsome face! [he gestures to his face and raises an eyebrow]

Y/N: His stupid jokes, as cocky as he seems the guy is funny as hell.

— Who made the first move?

Yeonjun: I did definitely.

Soobin: Surprisingly it was me, she would never.

Beomgyu: It was me she was too "nervous".

— Who made the first move? (cont.)

Yeonjun: It was during a performance we did together, all the emotions were super high so at the very end of the dance, I pulled her in and kissed her. Yeah best time of my life, the crowd went wild.

Soobin: She came in super late to the shop and asked for whatever croissants we had left but we didn't have any so I offered to make her some if she went out with me the next day

Beomgyu: We had been hanging out and I was bored so I just asked and surprisingly she agreed.

— His first impression of me?

Yeonjun: I thought she was going to be this cold partner that I wouldn't get along with, but obviously I was very wrong.

Soobin: She was a bit quiet but really sweet, then you get to know her and it's the complete opposite!

Beomgyu: I swear I thought she was crazy. I walked into the pet shop for some bird food and there she was fighting the clerk because he called her dog overweight. She is crazy but man I was scared.

— Our first date was?

Yeonjun: It happened right after that performance when I kissed her. We went out together and had burgers, then stayed up well past morning just messing around and talking at a playground near the venue.

Soobin: I took her to play mini golf. It didn't go too well since it has mini in the name and well...look at me. She laughed the entire time and instead of me helping her, she helped me.

Beomgyu: We went to an arcade and I beat her in every single game, then she pouted for the rest of the day till I promised to let her win next time we went back.

Y/N: no comment...

— Our first kiss was?

Yeonjun: Well you see...our first kiss kind of started it all.

Soobin: In her car after our, second or third date.

Beomgyu: Ha she was way too scared to kiss me so I did it when I walked her home after we hung out.

— We bonded most over?

Yeonjun: Our love for dancing and performing.

Soobin: We both had an affinity for baking?

Beomgyu: In the beginning our pets and then gradually just everything.

— I introduced him to?

Yeonjun: She introduced me to this entirely different view in life, it was just so uplifting.

Soobin: A new way of cooking, I dreaded it but turns out it can be fun if you do it right.

Beomgyu: A lot of new music came from her, my playlist if filled with it all still too.

— He introduced me to?

Yeonjun: A new outlook on dancing.

Soobin: So many places to eat and drink.

Beomgyu: To not worry what others think whatsoever.

— Did we say, "I love you?"

Yeonjun: [he leans forward and cups his hands around his mouth] We did but I said it first not her and if she lies then it's because she's a liar and hates me.

Soobin: She said she loved me after she met my family for the first time, and of course I said it back immediately.

Beomgyu: Yes, it was a phrase we often told to one another.

— In the morning I would?

Yeonjun: She wouldn't let me get out of bed to cook or shower or even pee. I mean not complaining too much but damn woman I had to pee.

Soobin: She would give me kiss then get up to cook.

Beomgyu: We didn't get up till like 11 if we were together we liked to just be with each other.

— In the morning he would?

Yeonjun: I always woke up first but never got up first since she would cling to me.

Soobin: Um hit snooze? Stay asleep.

Beomgyu: I would wake her up.

— He would call me?

Yeonjun: I didn't have one designated name for her but to get her mad I'd call her sugarplum or something really cheesy.

Soobin: Arm rest. [a smile finds its way on his faces as he's asked to elaborate] There isn't much to say she was my arm rest.

Beomgyu: Fiesty or crazy.

— I would call him?

Yeonjun: She was so mean she called me stupid head all the time.

Soobin: She always called me really nice things or something super mean like giant.

Beomgyu: She called me stupid head a lot and big baby.

— The best thing he did for me?

Yeonjun: I helped her open up a lot more I think.

Soobin: I always made sure she knew how special she was.

Beomgyu: No matter what I always spoken highly of her.

— And the best thing I did for him?

Yeonjun: She helped me with communicating. I get very upset very fast but she always made me feel better.

Soobin: She lessened a lot of my insecurities and that really boosted my confidence.

Beomgyu: Take care of me in a way no one before had ever done.

[the screen cuts back to a pink background with the words below appearing on it]

So who knows her best? (next segment)

— I'm really good at?

Yeonjun: Dancing.

Soobin: Making people feel comfortable/comforted.

Beomgyu: Getting her way? In a good way not bad I swear.

Y/N: Dancing definitely but also teaching others.

— I could be better at?

Yeonjun: Singing because she loved to dance but singing...wasn't her forte.

Soobin: Packing for trips. She overpacked a lot.

Beomgyu: Not fighting with the pet store guy.

Y/N: Being on time or toning down when appropriate.

— I loved to travel to?

Yeonjun: Any place with good food and people.

Soobin: Oh she liked going to sunny places.

Beomgyu: Where didn't she like to go.

Y/N: Places with good food or a nice sun.

— He knows I'm really proud of my?

Yeonjun: How far she's come with dance.

Soobin: She always took pride in how quickly she learned to be on her own.

Beomgyu: Just her life in general, she is doing what she wants and not many people get to do that.

Y/N: As much as I am proud of my dancing, I am so proud of how quickly I was able to go out and do things on my own.

— He knows I hate?

Yeonjun: When people criticize her but have absolutely no background knowledge on what she's doing and why.

Soobin: People who project or are just bullies.

Beomgyu: Not being able to be independent.

Y/N: Not having freedom to do things I know I should be able to do.

— My greatest skill?

Yeonjun: Her passion for wanting to do things.

Soobin: Dancing, I probably haven't mentioned it but she can dance really well.

Beomgyu: Her brain is huge and she uses it well.

Y/N: I know how to make people feel comfortable and I can cook really well.

— I've always wanted to buy?

Yeonjun: What kind of...man I don't know. Clothes? She had a lot of clothes.

Soobin: Shoes maybe, also like jewelry.

Beomgyu: One of those big extra dog houses for her dog.

Y/N: I want to buy my dog his own house.

— I have a talent for?

Yeonjun: Being herself and taking no crap from others.

Soobin: Making people comfortable.

Beomgyu: Tossing small candies in the air and catching them in her mouth.

Y/N: I can make people laugh I think.

— My biggest pet peeve is?

Yeonjun: People adding their opinions in situations that don't involve them.

Soobin: When she feels like she's being restricted from doing things she loves.

Beomgyu: People calling her dog fat of course!

Y/N: When people call my dog fat!! Why would they ever be so mean to him!

— Who takes longer to get ready?

Yeonjun: Definitely me…but only because I need to make sure my fit is good you know?

Y/N: Him always.

Soobin: Of course her! We never made our dates on time but honestly she was so pretty it didn’t matter.

Y/N: Me but only because he has such a nice style he puts his outfits together so quickly!

Beomgyu: Her, no questions asked.

Y/N: Bye it was so him, he is so indecisive!

— One word that best describes me is?

Yeonjun: Amazing.

Soobin: Kindhearted.

Beomgyu: Soulful.

Y/N: Unforgettable.

[screen behind y/n changes to a different color indicating a shift in the types of questions being asked]

— We dated for?

Yeonjun: Three years and two months.

Soobin: Eight months.

Beomgyu: Two years.

— We broke up because?

Yeonjun: Our paths were moving in different directions and we began to not really know one another in a sense.

Y/N: Our lives were moving in different directions and we started to argue a lot, so we decided to split.

Soobin: I think we realized that our relationship was more like friends than a couple.

Y/N: He’s like my best friend, and that was all we started seeing one another as.

Beomgyu: Our communication was really bad, and we had a hard time being honest with one another.

Y/N: We weren’t completely honest with our feelings and thoughts towards one another. It caused a lot of problems for us.

— My worst habit was?

Yeonjun: She didn’t believe in herself enough.

Soobin: She had a really busy schedule and prioritized work.

Beomgyu: Workaholic.

Y/N: Impostor syndrome was BIG.

— His worst habit was?

Yeonjun: Didn’t spend enough time with her.

Soobin: I wasn’t the easiest to communicate with.

Beomgyu: Prioritized my bird over her dog.

— He hated my?

Yeonjun: She could never sit still, always needed to be doing something, could never relax and take care of herself.

Soobin: I didn’t and still don’t hate anything about her, honestly.

Beomgyu: She was bad at communication and so was I so it was hard to get things out.

— And I hated his?

Yeonjun: Probably my friends, she said they liked me too much.

Soobin: How serious I was all the time.

Beomgyu: I couldn’t take anything seriously, we’d fight and I’d laugh it off.

— Were we in love?

Yeonjun: Definitely, always will be.

Soobin: I think at the beginning yes we definitely were.

Beomgyu: Yeah no doubt.

Y/N: Yeah I loved them all, I think Soobin was more of a friendly or brotherly love but Beomgyu and Yeonjun were love love.

— We always fought about?

Yeonjun: Never seeing one another.

Soobin: Being with each other too much.

Beomgyu: How we never communicated with one another.

— I got over the break-up after?

Yeonjun: I wish I could tell you.

Soobin: After we both realized we wanted to same ending.

Beomgyu: What kind of question is that? I don’t know.

— He got over the break-up after?

Yeonjun: Am I even over it? [he chuckles and looks away from the camera]

Soobin: It wasn’t too long, I think I’d accepted it long before it was over.

Beomgyu: Never.

— How did things end?

Yeonjun: Not the best, but we’re better now. We grew apart and it will take time to get back to a great place but right now it’s good.

Y/N: We hadn’t been a real couple in a long time so when it ended it was hard, it hurt both of us a lot but I think we’re getting better.

Soobin: It ended super well I think?

Y/N: It took a bit of space but we’re happier now.

Beomgyu: We argued so much, and that hurt our relationship a lot. I wouldn’t say it ended well.

Y/N: It sucked so bad at first, like I really loved him so much so the end not ending well hurt a lot.

[ending music switches on and the background behind y/n changes colors for one last time]

— Would we date again?

Yeonjun: I think if our schedules and paths aligned with one another, then yes we could.

Soobin: No! But I adore her always.

Beomgyu: Ummm well like assuming we’ve grown and gotten better at communicating with one another then yeah maybe? I don’t know? Yes?

Y/N: I don’t know, I guess only time can tell.

— Are we still on good terms?

Yeonjun: I think so? Could be better.

Soobin: Oh definitely. We have movie nights together.

Beomgyu: Could be better, but our animals have play dates so there’s that.

Y/N: Yes! I love them all, and like yeah some terms could be better but we’re working on it!

— We stayed friends because?

Yeonjun: I don’t think I could live a normal life without her.

Soobin: She’s like my best friend, of course we’d stay friends!

Beomgyu: I think I’d die if she wasn’t in my life, not to be dramatic or anything.

— He would say he misses my?

Yeonjun: Personality, she made me super happy and we had a great time together.

Soobin: I see her too much I have no answer for this!

Beomgyu: I miss her dog, but like I mean like living with him not just co-parenting him.

— I would say I miss his?

Yeonjun: Cuddles, I give the best ones.

Soobin: Can you really miss something of someone’s when you see them all the time?

Beomgyu: My jokes definitely, we laughed a lot.

— Best memory of our relationship was?

Yeonjun: One time we danced in the rain because she said it was on her bucket list of things and I wanted to do that for her.

Y/N: He helped me check off a lot of things I wanted to do in my lifetime and I appreciate that so much.

Soobin: When we made a giant, I’m talking four foot tall, gingerbread house for a contest and still lost but it was fun to do it.

Y/N: We have so many good ones don’t ask me to pick please!

Beomgyu: Walking in the park at night when it was peak golden hour and she looked so damn beautiful.

Y/N: Weekly walks around the park near his apartment.

— The best thing to come out of our relationship was?

Yeonjun: I think I gained a lot of knowledge from her and our relationship in general.

Soobin: Our friendship.

Beomgyu: I grew as a person definitely.

— He would tell my future boyfriends?

Yeonjun: Oh don’t even get me started, good luck is number one. Have fun.

Soobin: You’re very lucky, she’s amazing.

Beomgyu: [he adjusts in his chair and looks the camera dead in the eyes] I hate you. She’s mine. [he flashes a smile after]

[screen flashes back to y/n and all three exes sitting in our shot together]

Interviewer: Would you do this again?

Y/N: Possibly? I think it’s been fun to see their answers especially because they’re all such different people, special in their own ways definitely.

Interviewer: Okay Y/N, that’s a wrap! Thank you so much for coming and thank you boys for agreeing to participate in this video today.

All: Thank you!

[screen pans as the words “ENLUV” flash indicating the ending of the video and we watch y/n and her exes walk off screen]

txt taglist! @yeoforce @nikis-mum @bloom-bloom-pow @gyuuss @yourlocalhotgf @kyublr @spooooooooooon @enhacolor @butterfly-skinnylegend @dinosdance @simpforsung @misschubswrites @junityy @soobin-chois @fairybinie @lolalee24 @ja4hyvn @syrxiee2 – (bold can’t be tagged, & if you’d like to be removed from the taglist or added please let me know!)

coco’s love note: HELLO TOOTS! this is my first “fic fic” back!! tbh idk if I like it, it took such a long time to write and I feel like it’s not my BEST but I’m warming back up to writing so I promise I’ll get better again soon 🫶🏼 thank you so much for reading and feedback is always welcomed/appreciated!! if you liked it please let me know!! (p.s: i was stuck between gyu & jun so 😮)

[tinietaehyun]

INVITE: Always & Forever

[Vampire!Beomgyu x Herbalist!Reader] [Part II - Sequel] [One-shot]

Pairing: Vampire!Beomgyu x Herbalist!Reader

Genre(s): Supernatural, romance, angst, action, forbidden!love, fantasy, thriller.

Contains: Profanity, mentions of biting, blood, injury, death, suggestive/mature themes, established relationship, graphic depictions of injury, violence.

Links: Invite (Part I) || Masterlist

Summary: His fangs graze your neck causing you to shiver, each night in his embrace and each day, walking hand in hand. A secret romance, a dark secret only you two knew, and if it came out to the rest of the villagers that the very vampire they were on the hunt for was the one you were courting? Then well… it’d certainly make things unfortunate wouldn’t it.

Just how long could you two slip away under the dark, keep your rendezvous a secret? Slip your love under the rug before it could end disastrously?

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you, sweet healer,” he breathes. You cup his cheek shakily, “You need not be sorry, Beomgyu. It’s them.”

Utter bliss, the warmth of your bare body against his felt heavenly against his own cold skin. How pliant, how soft, tender, the curves that he couldn’t get out of his mind— sweet moans, and gasps. It was indeed a night he’d not forget for a long time, if not ever.

You lay wrapped in his embrace, face nuzzled into his chest, hair dishevelled, the bite marks on your neck and shoulders now fading leaving a shadow of a memory. The only marks that remain are dozens of love bites littered across the canvas of your skin.

You both cherished moment like this. After a passionate encounter, the simple morning with the sun gleaming through the tattered curtains. You knew the moment you saw Beomgyu perched devilishly on your balcony yesterday night, it was bound to occur. A nuzzle here, a peck there. A small nibble of blood, he said, one more bite, he said. One thing led to the next, and in moment you two were in bed together.

It had been just over six months since you and Beomgyu had officially began courting each other (albeit secretly of course), the villagers had noticed that the number of attacks had declined massively. Of course they would, after all, you’d provide Beomgyu with just enough sustenance. He relished your blood like no other, loved the flavour and essence of it, he’d never get enough. He had always insisted that he wouldn’t feed off you daily, he wanted you to have strength, and not just use you as food, no matter how much you insisted it was fine.

From the loving look in his gaze, the way he cupped your cheek, ran his fingers through your hair, tightly wrapped his arms around you, you could tell this vampire, was utterly and astoundingly in love with you. And you? You were just as infatuated and deeply in love with him as he was. He took over your thoughts and despite your bickering (which you oh, so loved) — you couldn’t get enough of him!

His groan makes your eyes flutter open and you shift yourself to crane your head up to meet his gaze. Oh how beautiful he was, although not surprising for a vampire. His dark locks dishevelled, his gaze drops to meet yours, a spark of mischief lighting up in them, lips quirking into a smirk.

Before you know it, Beomgyu dips his head down nuzzling into your neck and inhaling deeply sending a shiver down your spine, followed by a quick nip to your earlobe. “Morning, little healer. How are you feeling? Do need to be patched up yourself?” He litters kisses up your neck making you giggle, his hair being ticklish, “I was rather rough, hm? I couldn’t help myself, just seeing you after you went on that two day herb expedition, it drove me crazy, you understand, right?”

You coo, running your fingers through his hair, “Mm, I’m not complaining.” He muses, “Yesterday, you definitely weren’t… in that case,” his hand trails down your waist and your eyes widen as you realise what he intends to do, “No, no! Up, up, up, you mischievous vamp, I have to open up the shop.”

He pouts, “Come now, sweet healer, surely your customers can wait for an hour…” he pauses, “Or two?” You playfully smack his shoulder as you wrestle your way out of his grasp, “Nope, no bargaining, no bartering, no concessions. I’m serious. Behave.”

He huffs, “My, my dear healer, so cruel to your lover. I just wished to show you how much I missed you.”

“You act as though I were gone for a week or two, it was only two days,” you hum amused getting ready to bathe. His eyes flit over your form as you rush around, “Those two days felt like two centuries, my sweet healer, you simply don’t understand.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a towel, “Well, I can’t help you there, your perception of time seems to be rather warped, Beomgyu.” You pause, “Ah wait, you were careful right? I mean for food. I wasn’t there to feed you and-“

He sits up tousling his hair and he peers at your seriously, “I know, I know. You told me an uncountable amount of times before you left, to not be reckless or lose control. Do not worry, I stuck to cattle and a rabbit…mostly,” he grimaces, “Awful, by the way.”

You scoff, “Just animal blood right?” He sheepishly grins, “Uhm, maybe one human.” You glare, “I’m going to kill you, the villagers will have our heads on stakes. Both of us. They’ll think I’m a heretic. Or that I’ve been enthralled and kill you first and then me.”

As much as your relationship blossomed over these months, you both knew there one major issue that held you two back. His identity as a vampire — enemy of the village, a sadistic monster feared by all. And your identity as a mere human, siding with said monster, and heinously giving him your blood. That’d make you the child of the devil himself in the village leader’s eyes! They’d drive the both of you out; pitchforks and flaming torches and ruckus roars.

You shake your head removing that scary image. You didn’t want that, neither did he. So you both were cautious, incredibly so, or well, tried to be. It was hard, the village was a small place, there was always someone everywhere, eyes everywhere. You’d mostly meet up at night, where everyone mostly stayed indoors due to fear of…well your lover.

His arrogance and over-confidence in his ability to not get caught always set you on edge, made you paranoid. You chided him many times of course. Beomgyu sighs, “I’m sorry, I know, but… he was injured and well…it just, after that disgusting animal blood, I couldn’t help myself, you know?” You deadpan, “Just…you know we can’t afford to be careless. No one saw you right?”

“Yes, yes, I made sure no one was nearby and as usual erased his memory.” Your shoulders relax and you huff, “Two days and you can’t even wait for me.” He gets up stretching, your eyes flitting to the way his muscles flex, he catches your gaze with a smirk, “My offer for some morning fun still stands?”

You glare softly, “Very amusing, Beomgyu.” He shrugs, running his fingers through his dark brown locks, “A valiant effort from my end.” Shaking your head, you smile exasperated, “Anyway, we have to be careful, the villagers you know…”

Beomgyu walks up to you, wrapping his strong arms around you from behind as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck and murmurs, “I know, I know, sweet healer. You mean the world to me, the last thing I’d want is for you to be taken away from me.” His gaze noticeably darks and his grasp around you tightens, “I’d never let that fucking happen. I don’t care who I have to hurt.”

You twist around his arms with a smile cupping his cheek and then pinching it as he glares waving away your hand, “Are you cooing at me?” You pout, “So protective aren’t we? But I’d rather not have such bloodshed, no? We have to avoid such an outcome.” He presses his lips against your forehead tenderly before leaning his own against yours, “Mm, I suppose so, dear healer. Makes sense considering your occupation that you’d not want any casualties.”

You scoff and he murmurs, “I just think it’s a shame I cannot show you off, arm in arm, proclaim to the world that you are mine and mine alone. That we must hide.” You frown momentarily and sigh, “I…I know, Beomgyu. I’ve thought about it a lot too. But with the way society is and all..I’d not want to take the chance to lose you—even if it means utter secrecy.” He nods, eyes closing in bitter understanding.

Your days are spent in your shop preparing remedies with the much loved company of your salacious yet romantic lover. He made your dreary days and monotonous routines not so boring. He even accompanied you to collect herbs, worrying about you going into the woods by yourself.

You found solace in his arms and so did he in yours. His cold lifeless body felt lit with renewed life, as though he were truly living again. Everything about you, your endearing mannerisms, the way you spoke to him, that adorable look of concentration whenever you were using the mortar pestle on some particularly pesky herbs or how you’d gaze up at him with the most heart-stopping stare. All of it, everything about you just seemed to make life all the more worthwhile— something he could come back to each day, not just focusing on his pursuit of sustenance.

Meanwhile, your days were filled with a tender warmth and beautiful joy. Some days where he wouldn’t visit your shop, pester you like he always did, you felt empty. You relished the way his large hands fit with yours, the way his fingers intertwine with yours and squeeze reassuringly, his hushed whispers, his ticklish pecks along your neck. You adored it, and he adored doing such things to see your flustered and endearing reaction.

Although he was a pest whilst working, although you bickered back and forth, you knew he had your heart in his hands, without a doubt. From the way he gazed at you with such love, it was indeed the same for him.

Sighing, you grind the herbs in the mortar and yelp as you feel cold hands on your shoulders. His husky voice caressing your left ear, “Miss me, sweet healer?”

You peer over your shoulder with a snarky smile, “What makes you think that? Of course not.” You see the tip of his tongue flick over the point of one of his fangs in delight, a habit you noticed when he was in a playful or flirtatious mood.

“Oh really, hm? I find that rather hard to believe.” His hands trail down your arms leaving goosebumps before settling on your hips giving them a firm squeeze as he rests his chin down onto your shoulder. “Mm… so warm.”

You muse, “I’m beginning to think you’re a reptile with how much you adore my body heat.” He scoffs nuzzling into your neck, “Don’t be rude, I am not some pathetic snake or lizard.”

“You’re practically cold-blooded, in a sense, no? An overgrown reptile, but I suppose bat would be more accurate. Mosquito also works-“ You murmur amused as you continue adding more variety of herbs and plants to the grinded mixture. Beomgyu deadpans at you and you snicker.

Beomgyu huffs, “That’s a very ignorant assumption, healer. I’m wounded.” A chuckle leaves your lips, “Oh my poor Beomgyu, are your feelings hurt?” He rolls his eyes, “How, you torment your lover so, dearest healer, how cruel can you be? I flourish you with countless compliments, and this is how I get repaid?”

You feel him deeply inhale— he always did love your neck. Your scent, oh, and of course your blood. As twisted as it sounded, you couldn’t help but feel utter pleasure when he sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck, the scandalous gulps and slurps, the feel of his wet tongue lapping against your skin. It was all so much- even the mere thought of it had you writhing. However, he never took too much. Just enough, you always knew he was paranoid, claimed he had good control— which he did. There was no lapses or moments where you ever felt unsafe or in danger with him.

“Mm…” he inhales again, “….fuck, you smell exquisite.” You wince with a smile feeling his fangs graze your skin and you whine, “Beomgyu, I swear- I’m in the middle of-“

A brief peck lands on your skin as his hands caress your sides, “I know, I know, sweet healer, you’re in the middle of work. Don’t worry, I’ll behave myself, like a good vampire. Okay? No need to get yourself into a fluster.”

With an exasperated sigh, you resume your work. Your own desires and hungers making the simple task that you do for a living much more difficult to focus on— all the while, your lover clings onto your from behind content to bask in your radiating warmth.

As you pour the grinded mixture into a quaint glass bottle and plug it with a cork, he eases up from you with a stretch, “It’s your birthday soon, right?” Beomgyu asks with a playful gleam in his gaze.

You wrap some twine around the neck of the glass bottle, threading the label through it and you raise a brow, “…yes, why do you ask?” Beomgyu smirks with a shrug resting his hands into his pockets, “Mm, just wanted to spoil my lovely little healer that day. I had a few things in mind.”

“Such as?” You inquire curiously. He walks up to you placing his index finger atop your lips and whispers, “That’s a surprise.”

You scoff, “If it involves carrying me over your shoulder upstairs, and spending the night-“ His eyes twinkle, “Well, I won’t deny that outcome, but aside from that finale, I had a few other things in mind that day. As I said, sweet healer, a surprise.”

You mirror his smirk, “Alright then, Beomgyu. I look forward to it.” You’d be spending your birthday with him, for the first time. No, in fact it would be the first time you’d be spending your birthday, not working alone for once. The notion of this, makes your heart swell.

Beomgyu leans down cupping the back of your head placing a tender kiss on the tip of your nose and then on your lips, “You can wait a few days right?” You hum, “I can be the very picture of patience.” He muses, “Good.”

So, as you said, you waited, went about your days with him in bliss and most importantly anticipation. Indeed, it had been a long time since you were truly excited for your birthday— something you had always considered rather lacklustre, as ordinary as a normal day. But this time, things were different!

And so with great anticipation, you await the day of your birthday.

On that day, you wake up to find your vampiric lover perched on your window sill with a bouquet of fresh roses as the sunlight glimmers across his skin. With a flourish in his steps, he kicks off his boots, falling into your blanket as you wrap your arms around him in an embrace filled with laughter and affection. You take the blood-red roses admiring their beauty.

“Stunning flowers, for my stunning healer, happy birthday, my love,” he murmurs, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. The two of you make breakfast, nothing too special, but he was adamant that you closed shop today— claiming today was about you. That you would be fine not working for one day; that you deserve a break.

Reluctantly, you admit, Beomgyu was right. It felt good to not wake up so early, bustle downstairs, shovel your breakfast down and begin working, grinding powders, sifting, boiling and bubbling herbal potions and elixirs.

Putting on your nicest dress, you laugh as he tugs your hand, tugging you along the cobblestone streets pushing past other villagers— some looking at the two of you with disdain, others in envy and some in awe. Two young (well, one young) lovers hand in hand laughing— a perfect sight.

“I have quite the things planned for you,” he muses, squeezing your hand. You beam up at him, “Is that so? The anticipation is killing me!” He leans down, moving a stray strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear with a tender smile (almost tender enough to make you forget what he truly is).

The day starts off with visiting the village bakery, where he buys you the treats that you mentioned you like. The delicious sweet bursts of flavour, butter, sugar and honey with a tinge of vanilla. Perfectly warm and crispy layers which breaks into a satisfying crunch as you bite down.

Followed by him dragging you along to the village market on the outskirts. Beomgyu always knew you enjoyed the various little trinkets and things they brought from other regions, whether it be useful for your occupation or something you personally enjoyed.

Both of you walk hand in hand admiring the various stalls. Pieces of rare jewels, rings and earrings, little bottles, utensils, charms, bowls, lamps, writing quills, cloaks— everything.

You gasp feeling the fabric of one dark blue cloak, “It’s so soft.” The merchant grins, “Fresh off the looks of the south, young lady. Wish to try it on?”

Beomgyu muses, answering before you could, “She would love to, isn’t that right? It’s your birthday, after all?” He glances at you taking the cloak. Beomgyu leans down, swooping the cloak around you, bringing it over your shoulders and hooking the clasp together, face inches from yours. Your heart races as you gaze at him; a dumb grin on your face.

“Birthday, eh? In that case I suppose I can shimmy the price down a little,” the merchant clasps his hands. Beomgyu gazes down at you with an expression of endearment, “You look truly lovely in this.”

“The young man‘s as right as rain, you look lovely,” the merchant gleams, “Now about payment…” Beomgyu and you deadpan as you mutter, “Oh of course. Should have known that compliment wasn’t genuine.” Beomgyu snorts.

You fumble with the clasp to take the cloak off and Beomgyu raises a hand signalling you to halt, as he places a small pouch on the wooden table. “I’ll give you half of what’s in here,” he bargains. The merchant takes a quick peek inside and grimaces, “I don’t know about that young man, this cloak is quite the-“

Beomgyu leans forward cupping his hand over the man’s ear as he whispers something and you see the man pale instantly. Your brows furrow as he abruptly takes the pouch pouring out half, counting the coins and the merchant beams waveringly, “Pleasure doing business with ya!”

Blinking confused, you question Beomgyu who seems to hum pleasantly leading you off. “Did you just pay for this cloak- you didn’t have to-“ He murmurs, “I wanted to.”

Your mind recollects the events and you muse dryly, “He changed his mind quick, what did you tell him?” Beomgyu leans down whispering into your ear, “I told him, I’d rip him limb from limb as soon as the sun sets and he closes up his stall.”

You stiffen peering up at him with a glare, “Beomgyu! I swear-!” The passersby look on at your scolding tone and he throws his head back laughing, “Oh, your expression- priceless!” He chuckles, “I was joking, sweet healer, no need to get in such a panic.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoff, “That’s what I thought. So what did, get him scared then?” Beomgyu muses, “You know the tavern I work at right? He’s a regular there. Drinks himself into a babbling fool every night after he closes up his stall here. Told him I’d make sure he’d never get a drink again.”

You sigh; of course that’s all it took for a drunkard to crumble. Shaking your head, you laugh breathlessly, “Seriously…you are something else.” Beomgyu smiles, “Yes, yes, I know little healer, I am a genius,” his expression becomes serious, “But really, I wanted to get you the cloak, you always mentioned how during your little expeditions to the forest, you would feel a little cold, so here. Secondly, I saw the adorable little sparkle in your eyes that you get when you really want something.”

You flush, were you that obvious? He took notice of all your little quirks and mannerisms with such ease? A touching warmth spreads throughout your chest, “Thank you, Beomgyu.” He grins, “You’ll have more to thank me for later, so hold off for now, okay?”

You both spend the day walking around the village enjoying each other’s company. It had been such a long time since you had felt such contentment, such…comfort.

As the sun melts into the horizon, he seems to joy dragging you with him as you pant. “Goodness, Beomgyu… I’m dying for breath here.”

He shushes you, “Oh come now, we’re almost there. You can hike all you want for your herbs but not for me, or for your birthday! This spot is one I’ve just recently discovered whilst hunting for deer.”

You grumble making your way up the faded path, pushing past the brambles and foliage, the steepness increasing gradually. After awhile, he finally pushes through some overhanging branches and vines like curtains and lets you go first.

Your jaw drops ajar as you see the sky, painted dark with sparkles of glitter— the stars. Twinkling and glimmering above. The last vestiges of subtle orange fading away into the horizon and the moon slowly shows itself behind the tuft of grey clouds.

You tilt your head down seeing the village from a slight distance away and you finally figure out where you both were. It was that small little set of cliffs nearby the village overlooking it. You’d never gone there before, fearing it was too much of a climb for you—especially alone. It wasn’t the highest cliff but just enough to see the village with its small hints of light from the houses.

“…so beautiful,” you whisper in awe as you sit down on the grass. Beomgyu sits behind you, you scoot yourself back— your back resting against his chest, elbows resting on his thighs. His head on your right shoulder and his strong arms around you.

The subtle sound of your breathing merges with the sounds of the breeze, rustling trees, the hooting owls, chirping crickets and low gargles of toads. It was simply amazing, so serene, so peaceful.

“I love this,” you softly say. Beomgyu mumbles, “I love this too. I figured you would like this spot. I only discovered it a few days ago, I never expected to bring you here— but it just struck me when I sat here two days ago. It would be the perfect way to end off the day.”

“It is,” you breathe, closing your eyes, “It really is.” A pause of comforting silence ensues and you smile, “Thank you for everything, Beomgyu.”

You crane your head to gaze up at him, seeing the gentle moonlight caress his visage in a hauntingly beautiful manner. “Thank you…for doing all this. I never thought any of this was possible for me.”

“Why?” He questions, “You are deserving of love, is everyone not?” Your eyes glisten, “Yes. Yes they are, but it’s unfortunate, this world. Not everyone gets the privilege of it. Of such tender love like this.” You both go silent. Beomgyu cups your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone, “Indeed. Sweet healer, it is as you said. Nevertheless, I am glad I have you.”

He litters kisses down your neck, “All mine.” Beomgyu nuzzles the curve of your neck, “I’m all yours, yes?” A breathy giggle leaves your lips as your hand reaches back up into his luscious brown locks, “Yes, Beomgyu. All mine.”

As you lay your head against his firm chest, you feel his arms leave your sides and your brows furrow going to turn around and he chides playfully, “Stay still, sweet healer. Always in such a flurry.”

“What are you-“ you ask only to see a glistening pendant dangle down in front of your vision before gliding down onto your neck as he fastens the clasp on the back of your neck. The cool metal makes the hairs on your skin rise; your skin prickles with shock and cold.

Your lips quiver as you fiddle with the small pendant. A simple black metal heart. You gaze back at him, eyes watering and spluttering emotionally, “Beomgyu, you already bought me that cloak- the baked good- you spent so much-“

Amused by your babbling, he shushes you softly, “Relax, relax…sweetheart. No need to fret, I had bought this necklace a month back. I had seen another man make a necklace for his wife. I had thought it was a good idea, seeing that you liked jewellery, but often wear the same few.” He touches the heart nestled just above your chest, “This way, you may be reminded of me, even when you go out on those trips of yours. Or when I am not around.”

You glance at his neck, empty. You pout, “I wish we could match.” Beomgyu sighs smiling, “Ah well, one necklace was quite the pretty penny, my lovely healer, so your dear lover must be without a matching necklace,” he muses leaning down, “For now that is.”

You coo, “Then it’s settled, on your birthday then.” Beomgyu smirks, the one you love very much. “Don’t even think about it.” You twist back around, “Too late, we’ll be matching soon enough, or at least before the end of next year.”

Beomgyu snickers, “Far be it from me, to dissuade you.” His hands rest back on your waist and you both continue in tranquil conversation. The air is hazy, flirty and warm; gentle touches and caresses become more daring, his hands sliding and groping gently making you writhe at a loss for breath.

His fingers glide along your bodice, his other trailing down your skirt, gathering up the fabric. Tensions rise, the pent up desire which lingered throughout the day, all bubbling up at once with the moon as your witness.

Beomgyu whispers, “I think one more gift should make things just about perfect, should it not?” You whisper back playfully, “Is that so? What were you thinking?”

He hums, fangs grazing your neck, hands becoming increasingly bold, “Something I know you like very, very much. So do I, in fact.” You reply breathily, “I see, then by all means…” you trail off.

As much as the two of you wished to embrace each other under the stars, secluded in this little haven, it seems nature had different plans. Your quaint little fear of random beetles alongside the mosquitos nipping at you were quite frankly spoiling the heated mood.

You huff as you both walk back grumpily down the path and he snorts, “Easy now, sweet healer, we can have so much more fun back at your place, no? No need to look so down.” You glance at him, sneakily murmuring, “You also looked rather disappointed, you know.”

Beomgyu shrugs, lips cracking into a stupidly wide grin as laughter tumbles out of him, “Well, it is a shame when we were just getting to the good part that a large beetle decides to fly in the midst of our passionate lip lock. That scream,” he cackles almost stumbling over a rock, “Oh- that was hilarious.”

Deadpanning, you rip away your hand with a huff, “Of course it was funny to you, it wasn’t attempting to land on you. Stupid thing. Couldn’t it see we were busy?”

He snickers, “Well, perhaps none of the creatures wanted a show.” You scoff, rolling your eyes as he grabs your hand again, “Tsk, don’t pout, sweet healer. I’ll make up for lost time,” his tone darkens deliciously as he nears your ear.

You both reach the village streets, most had retreated into their homes, of course due to the curfew and fear of the oh so terrifying vampire. The very vampire you were walking hand in hand with. The streets were most empty, a few stray cats and dogs running here and there, one or two people closing their windows.

A few eyes linger your way but nothing is said— they had most likely suspected that you were both returning home. You murmur, “Huh… it really is so quiet out here. Scary actually without a lot of the lights. Once everyone’s shutters are shut, it looks completely different.”

Beomgyu remains unfazed, “It’s alright.” You scoff, “You say that because you hunt at this time. Be it human or animal.” He smirks, “Well, what can I say? My vision is simply superior in the dark. It only makes sense.”

You snicker, “They’ve all gone to bed and shut their windows, because of you. This entire curfew is because of you. To think they’re all scared of you.” His brows furrow, “What’s that supposed to mean? You make it sound as though I am not a predator.”

You pause regarding him from head to toe and he huffs. “Maybe not to you per se, but I am a predator nonetheless.” You shrug walking ahead, intentionally provoking him, “I don’t see it. To be fair, when we first met you actually were a little bit scary, but now, you just seem so soft and-“

Before you could get the words out, you find yourself being tugged into the nearest alley between two houses, wrists pinned beside your head. Beomgyu’s eyes take on a dangerous otherworldly glow, he leans down, “Is that so? We can’t have you forgetting what I am, can we? I seem to recall you relishing when I sink my fangs into your neck and drink that sweet, sweet sanguine nectar, hm?”

You shiver, “So?” You challenge and he smirks devilishly, “Oh no, I meant nothing by it. You’ve always been a little different than your cowardly villagers. Twisted little thing, aren’t you? Not that I mind, of course.”

You tilt your head to the side, your hair falling away from your neck salaciously, you smirk to yourself seeing his gaze flit down to your neck. Beomgyu’s voice huskily hums, “Oh, I see what you’re doing.”

You feign innocence, “Hm?” Beomgyu hums alluringly, “Ah, wanting to get bitten? On your birthday too? My, my, sweet healer, you’re more depraved than I thought.”

Well, you couldn’t help it when it always felt so good— and it almost always led to a rather pleasurable outcome. You shrug, “I don’t know what you mean.” He parts his lips showing his fangs about to sink down before a loud clattering sound shatters the intense moment.

Beomgyu pulls away and you shakily place a hand over your palpitating heart. Wait. You shake your head clearing your mind. What the hell were you two thinking? You were both in public— the streets, whilst rather empty, were not completely free of people. Anyone could have passed by!

You clutch your head panic filling your system, “Beomgyu, we shouldn’t have been so reckless- we got so carried away and if it weren’t for that we’d have foolishly continued-“ you begin rambling. He holds your arms calming you down, “Hey, hey, sweet healer, easy now. Easy. No one saw us. Look?”

He pulls your reluctantly form out of the alley and points toward the crate of bottles that had been tipped over, “Just crate tipped over, probably some stray dog or cat. You know how it is. Look around, not a single person in sight.” Beomgyu squeezes your hands, “But you’re right, we were reckless. Let gets home, don’t worry, okay? We’re okay. We’re okay.”

You nod calming yourself. Thank goodness you didn’t let it continue into him biting down into you. You couldn’t take that chance of any passerby just randomly taking a glimpse in.

As you both arrive at your place, the door slams shut, impassioned kisses, giggles and embraces fill your room as you both wish to carry on where you left off.

As his fangs sink into your soft flesh eliciting a gasp from your lips, you feel the sensation of doubt creep in the back of your consciousness. A crate like that… could it really have been knocked over by a mere cat or dog? It seemed so heavy.

No…it was fine. Beomgyu showed you the empty street— you saw with your own eyes, not a single soul out there. So why were you anxious?

And so, you forcibly shove that thought back into the recesses of your mind, as your hands tangle into his hair as Beomgyu gulps down the heavenly sanguine.

It would be fine.

It would be fine.

That’s what you wish you could say. How wrong you were. The thought, that very thought about the crate being heavy— heavier than a small cat or dog could knock over.

You wished it had been a large dog or something of the sort. Not a person. You both had thought you had been sly, caught yourselves in the alley before you got too reckless.

But no, it was too late. It was too late when you heard the ruckus in the early hours of the morning. A grumbling roar of distress and anger outside your window. You sit up abruptly as you focus on the chants.

“Traitor! Scum! Come out! Come out! Vampire! Vampire!” Your heart drops. This had to be a nightmare!

Various other insults are thrown at your house by what you assume is a large gathering in front of your house ready to barge in at any second. You hear the clatter of metal and wood.

Beomgyu seems to be up already and you see him hastily getting dressed, lacing up his boots. You see the tension in his brow, the shaking of his hands, his shaky breaths. He glances up and he murmurs, “You’re awake. Oh, Y/n…” his voice cracks.

Instantly you find your eyes watering. Indeed, it seemed yesterday really was too good to be true. He rushes over cupping your cheeks, “Get dressed, my love. Look at me. Look at me,” Beomgyu grasps your chin, “I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you okay?”

Tears stream down your face as you cover his hands with yours, sobs wracking your body, “Oh Beomgyu, I..” you can barely get the words out as you hyperventilate, “I’m… I can’t believe this— why- we were doing so well-“ He cups the back of your head pulling you in for a tight embrace. You hear the pain in his voice as he soothes you, “I know, I know. I thought…I thought we could keep it a secret too.”

As always, the universe had its cruel way of exposing any and all secrets one way or another. Two foolish lovers who had the gall to be happy with each other.

Beomgyu tilts your head up to meet his gaze and he firmly utters, “Stay focused. We…we need to get out of here.”

The roar of the crowd outside and clattering makes it difficult for him to focus. Your heart pounds as you get up hastily putting on your dress. He paces around, “I… I had thought it was a stray or something, I didn’t expect… someone to have watched us.” Beomgyu threads his fingers stressfully through his locks.

Clumsily, you lace up your boots and gaze at him. Cautiously you make your way to the shutters and ever so slightly peek down. A gasp escapes your lips and your knees buckle at the sight— nearly half the village there in front of your house chanting and roaring, pitchforks and torches in hand as the dangerous hue of dawn paints their faces.

They had one intention. To get rid of the vampire that lurked in the village, your lover.

And then get rid of you. A traitor.

Fraternising with…a demon, a bloodsucker.

“Open the door, herbalist and surrender willingly or we will break in!” A man’s voice bellows— presumably the village head. Quivering, you gaze at Beomgyu, who’s gaze has hardened. Even he looks unsure as to what to do.

He helps you stand with a hand and he finally speaks tensely, “Do you trust me?” You’re caught off guard by the question. Beomgyu repeats, this time more firmly, “Do you trust me, Y/n?”

You nod, the words, “Yes, of course,” leaving your lips breathlessly. He takes your wrist guiding you downstairs and you follow clumsily. You see your back door in the kitchen. Beomgyu snarls seeing them banging on it too— that route wasn’t an option.

Your entire house groans and creaks— any second they were about to barge in, rip him to shreds and do god knows what, to you!

Once again he leads you upstairs; grip borderline painful on your wrist and he opens the shutters wide making your eyes widen and the crowd’s chants fall silent. You stammer, “Beomgyu- what are you-“

Beomgyu’s gaze blazes fiercely into yours, “Take my hand.” You peer at his hand before taking it and he hoists himself onto your rooftop. He pulls you up effortlessly onto the rooftop and you scream as a roof tile falls below but he has you securely in his arms.

The crowds goes into uproar calling you terrible names, calling him a monster, you as his thrall. Panting, he commands, “We are going by rooftop, you hear me? Get on my back.”

He hoists you onto his back and you cling on dearly as he runs with superhuman speed, jumping across the rooftops on your street. The crowd’s roar increases as they follow along in pursuit. You close your eyes wishing to block all this out— you wish the entire earth would swallow you whole.

Why did this entire thing have to happen? Tears wet your cheeks again.

Rooftop to rooftop, he stumbles, patchwork nearly collapsing at one point, roof tiles going flying into the crowd below before he makes a risky jump onto the ground, you both fall to the floor rolling and you hiss in pain, the ground grazing your limbs painfully.

You barely have time to register your injuries as he roughly tugs you up, “Up, up, up!” You cry out as you push yourself to stand and you both run.

You hear the village head again, “Over there, by the arch! They’re headin’ out of the village! Men! Go, go, go!”

You weep and he snarls breathing heavily, “I’ve got you, healer, please, focus, focus for me. Just a little more, just a little- ah, more!” Your legs burn immensely, lungs searing for breath, wind flaps through your hair.

Over-exertion hits you, knees buckling and you sob, “Beomgyu, go- I’m only holding you back,” you cry out, “Just go-“

Anger is visible on his visage and enraged he snaps, “I’m not leaving you for them to punish you, you’re mine. You’re who I love, what lover would I be to sacrifice you for my own escape? Don’t be fucking stupid.”

You sob, shaking your head, “Beomgyu-“ In agitation, he hoists you onto his back and you yelp, clinging onto his neck, “Keep that mouth shut, got that? I’m not leaving you behind.”

With inhumane speed and agility, he winds his way through the trees. You realise where he’s taking the both of you, winding up the familiar harsh terrain. That spot on the cliff, notoriously hard to reach. The people would struggle and it would give you enough time to at least gather yourselves, see where you should head next.

You gaze behind, the crowd no longer in view, their sound growing fainter and fainter and soon you both stand in the same spot. The morning sun in full shine. You hug him tightly, “Beomgyu…” He hugs you back littering your forehead with kisses of desperation, “I know.” You whimper, “They’ll kill you. They’ll kill you, Beomgyu. I can’t…”

Beomgyu caresses the back of your head murmuring, “You don’t think it’s that easy, do you? I don’t die easy. Unless they have got silver or a huge stake, neither of which I saw in that crowd.” He peers down at you cupping your cheek, “Maybe garlic perhaps, the real weapon.”

Harshly, you smack his arm, sniffling, “Now’s not the time for joking.” He smiles painfully, “Alright, alright, but they’re definitely struggling up the incline that’s for sure. I don’t think they saw where we went, it’s hard to see in that dense foliage anyway. We have a little breathing room.”

You murmur, “I don’t want to risk it. We’ve got to get moving. Not everyone is going to give up so quickly, Beomgyu. There’ll definitely be a few who attempt to come up here. We’ve got to move.”

Beomgyu nods, gaze hardening, “Yes, if I remember, there’s another town just to the East,” he points out over a rocky outcrop, a faint path leading into some woods, he continues speaking, “We can’t stay there for long, they’re awfully weary of vampires in that town, but it’s ideal for a night’s stay. Then, in the morning, we can journey up further East. There’s a few more villages and towns that way—following the river. The further we get, the better. North is out of the question-“

As he speaks your gaze flits to behind him and you feel your entire soul leaving your body as you see a small glimmer in the foliage and before the scream leaves your mouth, the arrow coated in a metallic substance flies and swivels elegantly in the air.

You instinctively shove Beomgyu out of the way, almost off the cliff— the arrow missing him just enough to lodge itself into your neck. A choked gargle escapes your throat and you feel a metallic iron taste fill your mouth.

The village head scraped up and bruised tumbles out of the foliage with his bow in hand, a few more arrows ready.

Beomgyu freezes for a moment— gaze flitting between the village head and you. His lips part, but no breath escapes him. The village head bellows, “You foolish woman— that was meant for the vampire! No matter—“ He sheathes another arrow positioning it— but before he could even aim it, you see red.

Red, a lot of red. Your knees buckle. You gaze at the liquid dripping down your chest, a bloody mixture of silver and blood. Blood drips down your chin—- vision blurring.

Truly, you were a fool. Most of those in love were fools. He could have handled that himself, why did you play the hero? You didn’t know.

Your body just instinctively moved by itself. How stupid, to protect him. Protect what? A vampire? You knew silver was a poison— leading to deaths for vampires if not treated.

So? Did you really have to push him aside and get it shot in you instead?

You see more red, this time not your own. Your vision goes in and out of focus as you witness Beomgyu like you’ve never seen before.

Blood spraying, agonising screams, flesh tearing, bone snapping, disgusting squelches. You gather from the image in front of you, just how vicious your lover could be when he wanted to.

From the disheveled locks partially covering his gleaming dark red irises like some sort of veil of death to his hands covered and dripping in blood and god knows what else of what was left of the village head.

Beomgyu saw red and so did you. He killed right in front of you. Tore a man limb from limb. For you.

Tears drip down your face from the searing pain; you collapse onto your side making his head snap toward you, breaking him out of his bloodthirsty rampage.

Within seconds, he’s by your side cradling your weakened form, curses falling from his lips, enraged words aimed at the humans from the village. His voice cracks, “Oh my sweet, sweet healer, why? You are so…” he closes his eyes bellying his anger, “I told you, I could handle it. Handle everything. Why couldn’t you just sit back? Did you not think I…” he chokes up.

Beomgyu sniffles as tears run down his icy blood splattered cheeks, “You fool. You fucking fool, I can’t believe…” he clutches you, “Those fucking bastards, arrows coated with silver.”

You weakly gaze up at him, unable to move, unable to speak, not even a pitiful rasp. All you could do was stare up at his pretty face.

Perhaps, this was fate, you think. How it was meant to be, your consequences of mingling with the supernatural, not staying within your confines. He gazes at your neck and you see his red eyes darken, fangs glistening. You wonder, what was he thinking?

Finally, your vision goes dark— you don’t seem to be hurting anymore, rather you feel as though you’re wrapped in a cold embrace, on a winter’s night. Frigid, alone but painless.

As you go limp in his arms, panic surges in Beomgyu’s system, as he shakes you. He splutters, voice shattering, “No, no, no,” he pants out, “Wake up, fucking wake up.”

Beomgyu gazes down at your neck. He couldn’t let you go. He didn’t know… would you be content to die, or would you be happy to join him in his eternal prison of immortality?

He couldn’t ask you—- what would you want? Did you love him so dearly you’d be willing to spend an eternity with him? Was he delusional to think that way?

Was he selfish for what he was about to do? Would you hate him for turning you into what he was? He didn’t care. He wanted to see you alive, or alive in at least some sense of the word.

Was it a punishment or renewal? So, so many questions. But with each second, his chances of saving you were slim.

Thus, Beomgyu leans down, with a grimace he pulls the arrow out, blood spurting onto the grass. He whispers, placing a kiss atop your head, “I’m sorry, my dearest healer, for what I am about to do. Forgive me.”

With that, his fangs sink into the other side of your neck, as his hand cradles the back of your head. He gulps, downing every drop of your life source, the rich flavour he once craved now seeming horridly bitter. Tears roll down his face as he continues drinking and draining you of your blood.

Tormented apologies mentally scream in his mind as he resumes his onslaught. Would you hate him for this? Would you have preferred death?

Rustling occurs behind him but he doesn’t care. He had to drain you before the warmth left your body, before your systems shut off completely.

A few men poke their heads out of the foliage and stumble back mortified at the bloody scene, what was left of their leader, the sight of Beomgyu feeding mercilessly on what seemed to them as your corpse.

It was enough to have them running off, wretching and almost fainting. Let them run for now. He’d hunt down each one of them if this did not work out. Make everyone of these foolish villagers pay.

With a final grunt, he pulls away, gazing down at your lifeless body; stiff and pale. Only the tiniest hint of blood left in you.

Beomgyu grunts, taking your body into his arms and he begins walking, he needs to get you somewhere to rest, to be without stress or threat. Would you even wake up? He didn’t know, did he take too much? There had to be just enough left— he had never drained someone before, never turned someone.

If you did never wake up— he’d never forgive himself. Taking your blood on top of that for no real outcome. He shudders at the thought. No. You had to.

Hours pass, darkness, utter silence. Nothingness. The crackling of fire in the distance soon arises, a faint breeze brushing against your skin makes you writhe. One by one, you could feel your face, your limbs.

One by one, more and more noises around you pile up, layering atop one another, your senses fall back into place and you feel your chest grow not warm, but deathly cold.

Finally, as your lungs will with air, you inhale as deeply as you possibly could.

“Y/n! Y/n- oh my god, Y/n- you’re breathing,” a muffled voice resounds and instantly your eyes snap open. You sit up abruptly clutching your chest.

Your heart- wait, your heart.

You feel your chest as you pant raggedly for breath. No heartbeat. Your skin…no longer that comforting warmth. Your ears ring painfully and memories flood your consciousness as you groan clutching your head.

“Gently now, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, oh goodness, Y/n. My sweet healer, my love,” you hear the presence beside you call out cradling you in his icy arms. You glance up wearily and see him.

Choi Beomgyu.

His eyes glistening, a single tear drips down. He was crying. The orange hues of the crackling fire paint his face as he cups your cold cheek, “You’re alive. I… I didn’t think you’d make it. I-I thought I took too much.”

Took too much? You glance at your hands. You gasp— your neck! The arrow. You feel your neck feeling no scab, no injury. “My injury… Beomgyu-“ you stammer. He glances at you in silence as he takes your hands, “Y/n…I..”

Your body lacks warmth, your heart no longer beats, there’s a scratchy dryness in the back of your throat. Your horrendous injury, now, miraculously healed without so much as a scar or scab.

The pieces click into place forming an astounding conclusion. You whisper, afraid, “You…you, turned me?”

His silence has all the answers you need. You glance down at your hands, you were…alive. That meant you had experienced death.

He had brought you back…this time to the land of the undead. Of the immortal.

You were one of the same.

Beomgyu’s voice cracks, “You must despise me for making that choice for you. I… I couldn’t-“ he struggles to get the words out, “I couldn’t let you die. I couldn’t stand the thought of your life being taken.” He gazes at you with such a pained gaze, “I love you, I love you far too much to let you go, is that too selfish of me? Did I bring you back against your wishes?”

Your lips part, words not coming out, as you tremble, tears dripping down your cheeks at the impassioned words. He murmurs weakly, “Forgive me, my sweet healer, for being so selfish. You have all the reasons to despise me. But…I just couldn’t…couldn’t let you die.”

You sadly smile wiping away his tears with your thumbs, “I don’t hate you, you fool. You saved me.” His eyes widen, going speechless; lower lip quivering at your words. You sniffle with a wavering laugh, “I…I’m surprised, I… I would have never thought you’d turn me. I thought you’d never cross that boundary just because,” your voice cracks, “just because it’s me.”

He presses his forehead to yours chidingly, “I’d have no need to do such a thing if you did not play hero, you idiot,” he sighs pained, “Do you understand how horrible it was to see you bleeding out, life draining from your eyes? With an arrow meant for me? Not you?”

You cup his cheek nuzzling his nose with yours, “I know…I should have stayed down. I’m sorry for scaring you, Beomgyu.” He trembles, “I…having to drain you, I..” he murmurs shakily, “Never again. Never again.”

All of a sudden, Beomgyu embraces you tightly, his head in the crook of your neck, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you, sweet healer,” he breathes. You cup his cheek shakily, “You need not be sorry, Beomgyu. It was them.”

For a few minutes you stay like this, in each other’s arms, sat atop a log beside a fire. You gaze up at the forest foliage above, you had many questions as to how you got here, how long had you been out. But for now, you were simply content to be in his arms, with him.

Beomgyu whispers, “Your life…that you left behind, your precious little shop, my sweet healer. You left that behind because of me, I’m so sorry. We’ll… we’ll set up a new one elsewhere, far away. I’ll make sure of it.”

Your cold lips press a kiss onto his own before you wearily gaze into his eyes, “I know you will. But for now, Beomgyu. One step at a time.” You shift yourself to lean against his chest, “I feel tired.”

He hums softly, “Then sleep. I’ll be there for you when the dawn next comes. And the next, and for many more.”

You muse half deliriously from drowsiness, “Until the end of time?” A scoff leaves his lips at your audacity, not even having fed, a newborn vampire at best and yet…

Beomgyu smiles tenderly as he repeats in assertion, “Until the end of time, sweet healer. Until the end of time. Always and forever.”

Taglist:

@beomnioa @gyu-tori @immelissaaa @haowonbins @hyunelixbun @woncheecks @dalkom-han @tyongluvs @tubaturighthere @lun4mizuka @blazesimps @usuallyunlikelyfox

[viasdreams]

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

matching beomgyu’s freak !!

read pt.2 here !!

a/n: a piece of my soul </3

fake text m.list ☁︎⋅

[hyukalyptus]

yes, please — soobin x fem!reader | est. relationship. NSFW/MDNI!

cw. idol!soobin, nonidol!reader, chubby!reader, jiggle, talks of his abs, reader wears lip gloss, tiddylover!soob, slight exhibitionism, kissing, pet names (baby, love, good boy), some choking, mouth covering (with a hand), dacryphilia, cunnilingus, fingering, licking, soobin tastes sweaty and reader likes it, unprotected sex (pls don't do this), soft dom!soob, nipple play, spanking, creampie, lmk if there are more. notes. smut under cut. wc. 3.2K

“Can you stop?” you ask Soobin sitting on the couch across from you in a small dressing room. Still catching his breath and wiping sweat off his forehead from the concert, he runs his fingers through his damp hair.

“Stop what?” He asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Stop being so pretty.” You bite your lip. “You’re driving me crazy.” 

Flashing you a knowing smirk, he asks, “Am I?” He leans forward on the couch, his hand sliding up your thigh feels like someone poured oil on your body and lit a match. The squeeze he gives it is especially too much, making tingles run throughout your whole body. Meeting his gaze, your faces are inches apart from each other while you noticeably glance down at his lips. Those perfectly pillowy and pink and heart-shaped lips that always beg to be bitten and kissed. 

“Well, you were when you were wearing that pink sparkly, velvety thing, but now…hm,” you lean back, crossing your arms. “I’m not so sure this is doing it for me,” you say, looking over his post-concert black t-shirt and shorts—which, let’s be honest—is doing it for you. He doesn’t wear shorts often, but when he does, your tummy does backflips. 

“You know you love this outfit,” he smirks, rolling your chair closer to him. It takes everything in you to keep from wrapping your legs around his hips right then and there, but you're not giving in yet. Well, not fully. You can’t stop your fingertips from gracing his thigh. “I know you love my thighs.”

That jerk.

His eyes roaming your face, he lingers on your lips, but still. You’re not giving in. Shrugging, you nonchalantly lean back against the chair, crossing your legs. 

“Fine,” he chuckles. “If you really don’t like my outfit, then,” he shrugs, unlocking his phone again. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do to help you." Crossing one leg over his other knee, his shorts ride up, exposing his thigh. Deliberately moving his t-shirt to the side, he exposes his collarbone, making your breath hitch.

He thinks he’s so slick.

“I know what you’re doing,” You roll your eyes. “It’s not gonna work.”

Refusing to look at you, he says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe.” His voice is sweet as honey despite his obviously evil intentions. Maybe not evil per se, but certainly not sweet-as-honey intentions. 

“Hm.” You bite the inside of your cheek, eyes floating across his broad shoulders and collarbone. You practically salivate thinking about the saltiness of his skin after shows. The muscles in his arms are more defined from performing and his veiny hands are screaming at you. You just want them around your neck. 

As you stare at his hands, his fingers stop tapping the screen of his phone. He peeks at you through the hair that fell in front of his face, but his eyes quickly shift to his phone screen when he notices you looking. Resting back against the couch, he takes a deep breath, scrolling through his phone again.

“It’s kinda hot in here, huh?” You ask smugly, lifting your sweatshirt off, the thinness of your tank top barely covering your bare chest and hard nipples. Stretching your arms above your head, you push your chest out, catching his eyebrows raise, but he’s not giving in either. 

No matter how tempting your full, bouncy, and jiggly your tits are. No matter how absolutely squeezable they look. No matter how much he wants to feel your hard nipple against his tongue. 

He’s not giving in. 

Walking to your tote bag in the corner of the room, you bend so your ass faces him, your jeans hugging your curvy hips perfectly. You search for your lip gloss before gliding it over your lips, completely ignoring how obviously he’s ogling at you. 

Damn, those lips would look so pretty wrapped around his cock, hm?

Looking over your shoulder, he changes his attention again, acting like he wasn’t staring at you.

“You okay, babe?” you ask. He presses his lips together, exasperating. He looks so cute when he’s flustered. All blushy and smiley and dimpley. 

Striding over to him, you rake your fingers through his hair, tracing his jawline, swiping a thumb across his perfect bottom lip. His mouth stays open by itself as you say, “You seem kinda…feverish.” His breath is heavy again, his eyes looking up and down your body, tracing every bump and curve.

He whispers your name.

“Yes, babe?” Bending over, your shirt hangs off your chest, giving him easy access to look at your bare tits being deliberately pressed together by your upper arms. 

He swallows hard, looking up at you through his eyelashes and stutters, “You, uh, you dropped your phone.” God, he loves your tits. Always have. Always will. They fill his big hands beautifully. They taste delicious. They bounce gorgeously when he fucks you in missionary. 

“Ah, thank you, baby,” you smirk, picking it up, showing off your ass again. He slides down the couch again, blowing air out of his nostrils. While he reaches for a water bottle on the coffee table, you plop back down in your chair. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” he says, inching closer to you, clearly puckering his lips. He knows how much you love them. He even goes so far as resting an arm above your head, pulling his shirt up to show off his toned stomach. Geez, he really is being obvious today. 

“I just wanted to say,” you start as he attempts to slyly move his shirt up, exposing more and more skin. “I can see what you’re doing.” Pulling his shirt down with an eye roll, you continue, “Anyway, as I was saying.” He stretches, rubbing his tummy— “Are you trying to seduce me with your tummy?”

“You’re the one that loves my tummy,” he says, holding his hands up.

“It is really cute,” you giggle, your cheeks turning rosy. 

“Cute?” He asks, fake offended. 

“Sorry, sorry. It is really sexy,” you correct yourself, tracing a finger over his muscles. “So you are trying to seduce me?” You smirk. Opening his mouth to say something, nothing comes out and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Well, you were trying to seduce me with your booty.”

“You were doing it first with your—” you say, pulling your tank top to the side to expose your collarbone.

“And what about your oh, Soobin, it’s so hot in here,” he mimics your accent, stretching his arms above his head, pushing his chest out. Then he pretends to put lip gloss on with an imaginary applicator. “You look kinda feverish,” he says, making kissy noises.

“You’re the one who threw your thighs at me!” You giggle. “You know you have dancer’s legs.”

“Well, you threw your boobs at me,” he says. “You know you have…boobs.”

Rolling your eyes, you say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I did not throw my boobs at you.”

“Oh really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Oh really?”

“Oh yeah,” you smirk, your gaze lingering, eyeing each other up and down. “Do you wanna have sex or not?” He looks at you innocently, his eyebrows barely raised.

“Yes, please.”

“Then get over here, boo,” you giggle, holding your arms out to him. He stands from the couch, swiftly locking the door. Striding closer to you, he lifts you into his arms, running a thumb over the apple of your cheek before pressing his lips to yours.

Those perfect lips you’ll never get enough of. They’re soft and smooth and mold perfectly to yours. They were made for you. 

Holding you tighter, he slowly turns both of you, pushing your back against the door roughly, a gasp leaving your lips. His hand snakes into your hair, pulling your head to the side to trail his lips down your neck. Pushing your shirt up desperately, your chest is exposed, his mouth immediately finding your nipple. 

Crouching lower, he kisses your belly, a warm, fuzzy feeling flourishing inside while his lips linger at the top of your jeans. Unbuttoning them, his nails dig into the squishy part of your hips, dipping his fingertips into your waistband. Pulling your jeans off your legs, he throws them behind him.

“Aw,” he chuckles and you look at him questioningly. “These are cute,” he says, running his thumb over your lilac panties covered in tiny blue butterflies, complete with a little bow on the front. Your cheeks turn bright red.

“Soobin—” you exhale. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not,” he smiles,  glancing up at you from between your legs, kissing you on the outside of your panties, your hands pulling on his hair. “They’re really cute.”

“Please, babe…” you whisper.

“You’re begging now?” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “You have to be quiet.”

After pulling your panties down, he flicks his tongue over your clit while you rush to cover your mouth to muddle your moans, your eyes squeezing shut. Sliding a finger inside you, he chuckles at your desperate attempts to stay quiet. 

Fuck, he gives such good head. And he knows it too. He knows how much this drives people crazy. How good he can make someone feel with just his mouth. 

Licking his finger clean, he reaches up to squeeze your tit, forcing a grown out of you. Someone walks right outside the door, and you panic, glancing around the room. Hands suddenly restless, his tongue never stops flicking your clit, drawing you right back in. 

Trying to control your movements and noise, your back arches and little whimpers sneak past your lips. You can’t help it. He’s way too fucking good at this. 

There’s a knock on the door. You gasp quietly, covering your mouth again and look down at him. He holds a finger up to his pouty smile slicked with your wetness and  he shushes you, your heart racing. They knock again, but his tongue returns to your clit, making the challenge of staying quiet impossible.

“Soobin?” The person outside says, jiggling the door handle, your breath shallow at the thought of them walking in on you. He ignores them, squeezing the widest part of your hips, increasing the pressure of his tongue.

Pulling his hair to force him to look at you, you raise your eyebrows, tilting your head toward the door. Standing, he whispers, “It’s fine. Just stay quiet, okay?” Pressing his lips to the sensitive skin right below your ear, his breath on your neck sends shivers down your spine.

It takes everything in you to admit this, but you whisper, “I think you should go.” Your chest heaves, but he just shakes his head, covering your shoulder in sloppy kisses, relief running through your veins. 

It’s his decision at this point.

“At least fuck me against that wall,” you point your head in the direction of the wall across you. “I think it’ll be obvious from the outside if you fuck me against this door.” 

He chuckles, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Lifting you into his arms by your fingertips, he presses you against the wall opposite of you, massaging your tits. Attacking you with his lips, your chest warms and your shoulders relax at his touch. He pulls away from you, tugging at your bottom lip, making you giggle with him, fingers fumbling with the waistband of his shorts. 

He pulls his shorts down to his thighs, gliding his hard cock over your pussy. Your arms instinctively snap around his shoulders, pulling him closer as you sink your teeth into his shoulder.

“Call me crazy,” you sigh, looking into his heavy eyes, glancing down at his swollen lips. “But you always taste so good after shows,” you whisper, dragging your tongue across his collarbone, his chest shaking with his chuckle. Tongue covered in his sweat, salty and mineraly, and absolutely delicious. 

Holding your leg in his arm, he uses his other hand to cover your whimpers as he slides inside you, not giving you the usual opportunity to adjust to the feeling of him. You simply feel too good right now. But of course—

“Feel okay?” He asks under his breath, always ensuring you’re having as good of a time as he is. He still refuses to move his hand, only looking for that gentle nod you give him. But he can’t resist kissing you.

Moving his hand from your mouth to your cheek to pull your face closer, he presses his lips to yours again, kissing your furiously, moaning against your lips.

Pulling on his hair, you whisper, “If I’m not allowed to moan, you’re not allowed to either.”

“Fine,” He chuckles. “No moaning.” Thrusting into you deeper, he circles your clit with his thumb, making your head reel. You gasp, biting your lip to keep the no moaning deal you just made. Pressing his forehead to yours, your shared breath on each other’s lips, his thumb moves to circle your nipple, the teensiest, tinsiest moan leaving your mouth.

Narrowing his eyes at you, he shushes you again and you roll your eyes, your hand snaking into his hair, gently tugging at it. As soon as he’s gotten used to not moaning, you pull his hair hard. Gritting his teeth, he hisses, making you giggle.

That would usually draw out an embarrassingly pathetic, utterly sexy moan from him, but— “Aw, you’re being a good boy and controlling yourself tonight, hm?”

His smile drops, his eyes turning dark as he pulls out of you to turn you around. Quickly pushing your chest against the wall, he thrusts inside you again.

“Fuck—” you start, but he shushes you harshly. Looking over your shoulder, he eyes your body up and down, thinking about something, but you just don’t know what. Pulling out of you as quickly as he pushed inside you, he turns you back around and lifts your leg to slide back into you.

“I need to see your face when you come,” he says.

There’s an edge to his smile. Your leg that’s still on the ground shakes from holding yourself up for too long, your head is spinning, your chest is on the verge of exploding.

Then he wraps his fingers around your throat, pressing your neck with your fingertips gently, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

The pleasure is too overwhelming. How deep he is, his hand on your neck, your tits bouncing to the rhythm of his thrusts. All of that paired with the fact you’re not allowed to make any noise is killing you. The corners of your eyes start to burn.

A few tears stream down your face and he slows his movements, loosening the grip on your neck, looking over your face, noticing the sparkle of pleasure in your eyes, the satisfied smile on your lips. He whispers in your ear, “Do I feel that good, baby?” You nod, pressing your hand to the outside of the one around your neck, silently telling him to tighten his grip.

He picks up speed again, kissing your tears away.

“So good,” you say, managing to keep it at a whisper as your eyes squeeze shut.

Reaching a spot deep inside you, you grit your teeth, your head falling back against the wall, pulling his hair harder than you ever have to let him know how close you are. Lifting your shirt frantically, his tongue finds your nipple while you rub your clit in circles, desperately chasing your orgasm. 

The fire in your stomach builds faster and faster, sparks flickering all the way to your toes. His fingers wrap around the back of your neck, pulling your face closer to his, touching your foreheads together.

Your walls clench tighter around him while he covers your mouth with his palm, his deep, dark eyes meeting yours to tell you to come.

He finally pushes you over the edge, coming hard around him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Muscles tense and aching as he fucks you through your orgasm, sending shocks of pleasure throughout your entire body. 

Catching your breath, he moves his hand to let you smirk at him, his eyebrows furrowed, still focused on chasing his own high.

Burying his face in your neck, he kisses you over and over again, steadying your breath, a low groan coming from his throat. Lifting up to look at you, he says, “You feel—” But before he can finish his sentence, you cover his mouth with your hand.

“You gotta be quiet, baby…” you giggle as he drops his forehead to your shoulder.

“Come here,” he whispers, pulling out of you, bending you over the armrest of the couch and you shake your ass for him. He gives you a loud spank and you turn around to narrow your eyes at him gritting his teeth and eyes widening. “Oops.”

Pressing your lower back, he pushes himself inside you, legs shaking underneath him. He reaches the speed you know he likes, gripping a handful of your hair, holding back his moans. The grip he has on your ass tells you he’s close. 

Whispering little encouragements as he chases his high, his hips stutter against your ass. With a few final thrusts, he says your name, twitching and bucking his hips as he finishes inside you. The tight grip he has on your flesh releases as he comes down from high high. 

Slowly sliding out of you, he lifts you so your back presses his chest, kissing your shoulder.

Turning around and resting on the armrest, you pull him closer as his chest heaves, catching his breath. He presses his forehead to yours, his breath gracing your lips before he gently pecks them, warmth bubbling in your stomach, rushing to fill your body. 

Swaying side to side, he kisses your forehead. His eyebrows furrow, pressing his lips together, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs before he asks, “You okay?” 

“Of course,” you answer, pecking his lips. “Why?”

“You were crying.”

“Yeah,” you giggle. “Because it felt so good. I thought you knew that?”

“I thought so,” he nods. “I was just making sure. It did kinda scare me.” He pouts.

“Aw,” you wrap your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry.” He smiles, shaking his head. “Thank you for choking me, babe,” you say sweetly, trying to lighten this slight awkwardness. He’s still a bit unsure about you crying, but he knows it’s one of your things. It does turn him on knowing his cock brings tears to your eyes, but it can still be a shock sometimes. 

“Thanks for pulling on my hair,” he says, turning to pick up your panties and jeans. When he hands them to you, there’s a glimmer in his eye that makes you feel like the only person in the world that matters. You love that he can do that. That he can make you crumble underneath him to the point of tears, then look at you and tell you he loves you without saying a damn word.

After getting dressed, he’s gathering his things, singing songs under his breath. You hug him from behind, your arms wrapped around his waist. 

“You were so sexy tonight, babe,” you say, laying your cheek against his back.

“I know,” he says proudly, wrapping his hand around your forearm. He turns around, looking down at you with the cutest, sexiest eyes. “Thanks for coming everywhere with us. It has been so much fun having you at all our shows.”

“Ah, really?” you giggle. “I was worried I was kinda getting in the way.”

“What? No, of course not,” he says. “You’d never be in the way.”

[hyukascampfire]

𝒯𝑂: 𝑆𝑂𝑀𝐸𝑂𝑁𝐸 𝐹𝑅𝑂𝑀 𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑀 𝐶𝐿𝐼𝑀𝐴𝑇𝐸 ༉

𝓘N THIS STORY 〃 a life lived as a human among the fae is one hard-earned. the folk are built of indescribable beauty, and of debauchery and mischief. for some, a life lived subservient to the folk is just fine; but to those who dream of something more, they would spend their lives clawing and biting to make it happen.

you, looking for a way to escape a life as a faerie’s human servant, put a new foot forward thinking that any life could be better than that. but, when your first assignment as a king’s spy is alongside a brooding, icy faerie man, you begin to wonder what your place in this foreign world really could be.

wc ➳ 20.2k

pairings faerie!taehyun x human!reader, faerie!yeonjun x human!reader

warnings angst, heated kissing, violence, blood, jealousy jealousy jealousy, controlling and obsessive behavior, a bit of a gross nightmare, magic spell placed over a human, a bit of traditional values, i think that’s all…

playlists ⑊ yeonjun ˒ taehyun ˒ series

…🪶 ashlynn's note guys. really. that’s all i have to say. i love u and once again if u see a typo or like whack sentence…… no you didn’t. also my back hurts help

← ⑊ →

You’ve come to a thought, in all your aimless idling about the estate. Running your fingers over the surface of all the things you’ve done and the decisions you’d made leading you into this reality, you’ve been caught on one particularly worrisome divot: the geas. 

They hadn’t exactly given you a time frame, but you surmise that you’re quickly approaching the limit. You've entertained the fantasy that they’ll just consider the both of you dead, but it’s just that: fantasy. You know it’s a ridiculous thought. There’s a plethora of things that they might first assume before coming to the conclusion that you’ve met your ends. Though the geas’ workings are a bit elusive to you, you can imagine that all it would take is a tug to check whether or not you’re alive. So, if you ever really wanted to call this place home, you’ve got to do away with it. You’ve got to. Otherwise, all your wagering to stay here would be in terrible vain. You imagine how much of a fool you already look to Taehyun, considering your entanglement with the prince, and how he’d warned you repeatedly. It’s not your fault that he decided to stay here along with you, but you feel nauseous imagining your own mistakes getting the both of you killed.  

Embroidering whorling designs on the hems of your coverlets or sweating away your energy with practicing blocks and parries, you’d also let your mind wander off to fill the silence. It was then that you’d remembered what Beomgyu had offered you in his attempts at luring you. I could dissolve that geas for you.  

You sit, legs spread out ahead of you, in the little spot that you’ve found yourself frequenting these days: pressed against the side of your wardrobe, just enough room for your feet to brush against the wood framing of your bed without having to bend your knees. Taehyun has recently been bringing an influx of faeries to work the estate—all indebted to him or his father. Or, well, that’s what he tells you, anyway. You choose to believe him, but still, you wonder about the circumstances of those debts. The brownie assigned to your care, named Conifer, is long-limbed with bark for skin that crawls up from her spindly fingers and toes, just to end at her shins and fore-arm, and insists on bathing you and preparing your clothes each day. When you refuse her, she loiters around the doorway anxiously watching you prepare yourself with her watery black eyes until you decide to make her life just a bit easier and allow her to do her work. You don’t exactly adore the scrape of her sharp fingers on your scalp while she does your tresses up, though. Their presence reminds you of the servants you’d see running around Yeonjun’s place.  

In this corner, you avoid them. It’s a nice spot to betray your own resolution; his letters are only a grab of the handles away. You try not to, but you read them. Often. When your memories really get kicking, when you’re sickened by twinkling, desperate eyes looking up to you from the ground, you read them.  

“You look sorry.” Beomgyu settles opposite from you, his back against your bed. 

Scoffing at him, you pull yourself out of a slouch. “Oh, wow. Thank you. You have a way with words,” you quip, hiding the letters you’d fished out indulgently away behind you. 

He furrows his brows. “I meant it.” 

You drag in some air and release it slow. “I know. I’m sure I do.” 

He points at you with the hand he has rested on his knee. “Does it have something to do with the letters?” 

You hadn’t hidden them fast enough. Shame crawls a warm red path over your cheeks and ears. Nobody has made any comments at you for your longing, but it feels pitiful to be doing so. You shake your head. “No. I was just... thinking. About something you said when we first met.” 

Strong brows shoot up over lazed eyes. “I think I said many things,” he says, “you’ll have to tell me.” 

“That you could dissolve my geas,” you say, fiddling with your fingers. 

His eyes consider you. “It bothers you.” 

“It does,” you say. “It was a mistake. I should’ve refused it.” Hope flutters in your chest like a dead weight. You shun it away before reality can rip it out for you. 

Deadpanned, and not particularly delicately, he tells you, “I cannot break it.”  

Nodding, you wilt. It’s what you were expecting, anyway. That would be too easy. "Why not? You said it yourself that you could.” 

“A geas is a type of magic cut from the fabric of a promise. It’ll exist until the faerie that placed it over you chooses to revoke it. I couldn’t reach in and cut the line like I would another sort of enchantment.” He presses his mouth into a line. “I was under the impression that you were brought up here. Hadn’t you known that a promise is binding?” 

 Wincing, you answer, “Yeah. I did.” And yet, you made it. It was perhaps the biggest mistake you’ve made in your entire life. You now understand Taehyun’s aversion when he first made his appearance at the den. You were too tunnel-visioned to really listened to him, then. You run your hands furiously through your hair. “Still... you said you could. How did you say that, if it was a lie?” 

A wicked smile cracks over his lips—one that looks as though he’s sharing a joke that only the both of you might understand, but you’re far from being in on it with him. “A bit late to be learning how our kind play, I believe. I was able to say that because I made myself think it true. It is not plain, and it is not fair, but it’s what it is.” 

“That makes no sense,” you say, shaking your head. “You can’t believe something is true over what you already know is the truth. You’d have to acknowledge the other thing’s truth to do that.” 

He grimaces. “That you believe that is why you’ve found yourself here. It’s paradoxical, maybe, but we’re good at that. Loopholes exist where you look hard enough for them. If you don’t intend to get caught up, you just never accept a Faerie deal, there’s no other way to it.” 

Running fingers over the grooves in the wood of the floor, you say, “I suppose I shouldn’t ask you to work up an enchantment that might counteract it, then.” 

“Perhaps I could,” he says. 

Perked up and mouth dropped open, you’re ready to ask him a waterfall of questions. He cuts in before you can even start. “It wouldn’t rid you of the original magic, and I can make no promises to you that it’d be watertight.” 

“I’ll take anything,” you say. With narrowed eyes, you add, “After that whole speech about finding loopholes to lie, and to never trust faerie magic, though...” 

He frowns at you. “I see how it is.” 

“What? I mean, you said it a few seconds ago. I think getting tripped up into another Faerie trick, like, literally seconds after you warned me about them would be a bit ironic.” 

“We’re no longer friendly,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You laugh. Him considering you friends is news to you. The word is delicious. You want to say it more. “Oh, please. We’re only friends when it benefits you. How can I be so sure you aren’t tricking me?” 

“Now, we’re really not friendly.” 

A laugh bubbles past your lips once again, and you crawl over to him to try and make amends. “You’re the one who said it.” 

He turns his face from you. “Spare me.” 

“Seriously though, do you mean it? That you’d help me?” you ask. The proposition is too shiny to not consider. 

“It’s not as if I could harm you in any way,” he tells you, dropping the theatrics. “I think I’d like something in return for it, though.” 

You frown. Of course, in Faerie, there are no favors. “What would you want?” 

The kelpie’s eyes roam over your room for a moment, but it’s mostly for show, because his eyes come back on you with intent. He lifts his head at you in a pointing gesture. “Those letters,” he says.  

Frown deepening, you sit back. “The letters?” you say, trying to rein in your face. You don’t want him to see how awfully you want to cling to them. Having them is inconsequential when stood beside dealing with the geas, but still... “The ones from Yeonjun?” 

Eyes dancing with interest, he nods. “Those.” 

You pull them from behind you. They look a lot less pretty now, envelopes dented with your touches. You can’t see why he’d have any interest in them; they weren’t even for him. “Why?” you ask him. “They’re just letters.” 

Beomgyu nod his head in acknowledgment. “They are,” he says. “So why do they bother you as they do?” 

Pausing, you consider his words. Why do they? Yeonjun is a liar. You weren’t special—just a mission to him. You should hate him; seeing those letters full of flowery words and proclamations of love should anger you. And they do, they do anger you, but that doesn’t stop you from reading them. You’re not sure what you’re searching for in them. Closure? Proof of his lies? Or, excuses? 

Beomgyu has no interest in the letters. It’s his way of telling you that you need to grow a spine. You suppose it’s about time that you do just that. 

“Here.” You push them off into his hands. “You’ll do it, then?” 

The corners of his lips turn up. “Maybe...” 

You hiss and reach for your letters, but he tugs them toward himself and holds them safe out of your reach. 

“Give those back, you prick,” you say. “You don’t get them for free. It’s called a deal. You said you’d help me.” 

With his eyes dancing with wild mischievous intent, he pretends to think. “Did I?” 

You land a smack on his upper arm, groaning when it only sends his face more viciously taunting. That playing glint in his eyes is welcomed, though. At least you know he’s only playing. Otherwise, you might be more worried that he is genuinely screwing you over. “Stop playing tricks,” you say, furled out from gritted teeth. “You know you did. This is what got you here in the first place, idiot. I’m being serious.” 

His lip curls, and he relents. “Do not remind me.” 

“Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time?” you say, sending eyes with dagger points his way. “C’mon. Magic.” 

Looking kicked, he grabs your hand. It sends you back to the day you’d gotten that awful geas and the way Cricket had done the same thing. You’re going to fix that mistake. 

“I was just having my fun. I suffer a terrible drought of it here.” 

Your skin tickles, and you know he’s working on it. Heart doing nervous laps, you say, “Well, look whose roof we live under. It’s no wonder.” 

He likes that, wicked delight crackling over his features in just the same way his magic crackles through your veins. It’s a far cry from the last time you’d felt a sensation like this. It feels as though a beast of the wild is crashing through your bones like they’re hollow. It’s untamed, but you know just by the thrumming of it that his magic is much more refined and ancient than the geas’. Its claws brush up against your very core.  

You try and blink away the daze, deciding to distract yourself away from it with speech. “You know, I was thinking.” 

He raises his eyebrows, listening. His magic doesn’t falter as he offers you his attention; no need for his concentration. Not when he’s had centuries to become intimately familiar with it.  

“That maybe Yeonjun is a gancanagh,” you continue.  

A gancanagh—sugar-mouthed faeries with the power to send those around them enamored with them with only as much as their words. They’re better known for their other, and in your opinion more fitting, name: love-talker. You’d been so taken by Yeonjun, so weakened by him. The idea that perhaps it was all to the effect of some magic... You’re not sure whether it consoles you or makes it hurt more. Then again, it could also just be you trying to justify the mistakes you’d made. Your mind bends and twists around the thought, maybe the magic. Or, maybe, frustration. 

“A gancanagh,” he says. Beomgyu considers the notion for a moment, but still works his magic through you. “I’m not sure.” 

Not sure? You press the issue. “How are you not sure whether or not the prince is a gancanagh? I know you stay in your forest, but I imagine that you’d know that.” 

“Hmm.” He turns your arm as if trying for a new angle. “I believe that the prince’s mother is one of the sorrier kinds that the High King takes. He has his Ladies, and he has his courtesans. It seems that he was not so proud of her, since her name never reached my lands.” 

A bout of nausea rolls over your skull. His magic is so potent. The tidbit of information is enough to have you perking up despite it. “You think that his mother is a courtesan?” 

“Well, I know she is not a favored Lady. I know nothing of her. She could be gancanagh, or she could be any other thing.” He shoots you a pointed look. “I’m curious as to why you ask.” 

Skin clammy, you wipe at your cheek. “How long does this take?” you ask. 

“As long as I make it take,” he says, tilting his head off to one side. “Why are you worried of the prince’s heritage?” 

You know he’s fishing answers out of you. Shrugging, you tell him, “It was a genuine thought.” 

Nausea and buzzing subside as he releases your arm. “The King has many children. Only some were really considered for their father’s throne, though. I know that the young prince was never one of them. I suggest thinking on that.” 

You blow out a shuddering breath, controlled and small, to compose yourself under the weight of this new magic. “That’s it?” you ask, brushing some hair away from your face. “What did you do?” 

“Mostly, blocked.” 

“Elaborate,” you say, running fingers over your skin as if you might feel the magic there. 

Taken with amusement, he answers, “If the one who placed the geas there tries and play that card, they’ll find the pathways blocked.” He slumps back onto your bed. “It does not mean that the original magic is gone. It is still very much there. Just... hindered.” 

Your head swims. It’s not gone, but this... You know that your sleep will come to you easier now. Maybe it’s not foolproof, but this is much better. Much. 

“No more deals,” he tells you. “You’ve only got so much of yourself. Each time you fill yourself up with our magic, you lose that space. You will never be whole again, but you ought to savor what you’ve got left. You can only make the best of it.” His mud brown eyes are not joking, now. 

Blinking, you fumble out a nod. 

You’ll never be whole again. You hope that’s more a clever wording than the truth, but with the chill that grips your belly and brushes over the overfilled parts of you, you fear you can’t help but believe it. 

❆

You hate it. 

Drowning in it—you hate it. You hate the scarlet red of it, you hate the sticky spray of it on your skin, hate the cries of agony that follow its ceremony, and the feel of its blazing warmth fresh from the body. You’re choking. Swimming up with thrashing arms, it’s so thick that you make no way.  

The liquidity turns to sturdy arms. They cage you, grab your heart and twist, point daggers at your chest and they whisper words in your ears that you don’t want to remember. Your place is in the dirt, they say. You are nothing. A boot in your neck chokes you. You want to scream and cry that you are good, that you didn’t want to hurt them, that you’ll just mind your place if they take their boot off from your neck, but you can’t. You have no voice. 

The metallic tang of the blood follows you, even as you find yourself standing in Court. It stains the muddy floor a wretched color. A thousand eyes blaze on your skin.

You feel them looking at you. You want them to stop, but they laugh and laugh. Yeonjun joins them, looking up at you with vile mock.

“You think I’d beg for you?” he sneers. His sweet voice is warped and twisted into something ugly and mean that grates at your ears and heart. His laugh echoes, and then you’re looking up at him as he hovers over you. “You don’t deserve my begging. I hate you.”

Metal burns your nose, and when you look between the two of you, he’s bleeding from the stomach—from the dagger you’d plunged there. He looks up at you, livid eyes piercing you. “Look. Look what you did. You killed me.”

You shake your head frantically, going to hold his face. You try to tell him no, no you didn’t—you didn’t kill him, but still—

Shooting up, you grasp for breaths and clutch at the bedding. Heart thudding in your chest, you find Taehyun stood in your doorway, looking dragged from sleep. 

You adjust your sleep gown, disheveled with sleep and ridden up your thighs. Still piecing together consciousness, you croak out a, “Huh?” 

There, tickling at the back of your mind, you still smell blood. 

“I thought something was wrong,” he says, taking in the room with a thorough sweep. “You sounded...” Taehyun starts, but does not finish. “Since you’re doing fine, I’ll leave you to sleep.” 

“Stay?” you blurt, before he can turn and leave you here. Your voice comes out thinner and more fragile than you’d meant it to.  

Brows shooting up, Taehyun is hesitant to step into the room. “It’s probably hours before sunrise,” he says. “You don’t want to fall back asleep?” 

You shake your head. No, you don’t. If you do, then you’ll be back to drowning. You might not even be able to fall asleep at this point. The taste lingers. You’re still panting a little when you say, “I don’t want to bother you, but... Please.” 

Taehyun relents apprehensively, stopping just before the end of your bed. Moonlight blooms over his face from the window. It makes a show of his sharp cheek and jaw lines and emphasizes the feathering of his jaw around a hard swallow. “You were having a bad dream,” he says, an observation rather than a question. “About what?” 

Him standing over you like that; it doesn’t feel so easy to tell him that you’re haunted by what you’ve done. You wince at him and send a gesture up. “You don’t have to stand there. You can sit here.” You pat at the opposite end of your bed. 

He flexes one hand, a rare anxious gesture from him. “I wouldn’t just invite myself into a lady’s bed.” 

Well, he didn’t have to put it like that. 

You say, “I’m inviting you to sit down next to me, Taehyun...” 

It’s a few moments before he does, bed dipping beneath him. Like this, it feels much less like an interrogation. Insects buzz outside, singing their song to the stars and mercifully filling up the moment that you take to pluck up composure. He watches you, but doesn’t say anything. He waits. 

Catching a few strands of your scattered thoughts, you say, “Do you get nightmares sometimes? About the people you’ve killed?” It’s blunt and not much, but it’s all you have in you. It’s a thought that has served as a thorn in your side for quite a while now, too. Is it only you who’s had a prison made of their own mind? 

 Will it ever go away? 

Resolutely, he shakes his head. “No. I don’t.” 

“Oh.” You hold yourself a little harder, as if the chill that passes over you is a draft from the window and not bitter dread. “How? How can you not be bothered by it? They’re dead, and they’ll never be coming back. They had as many thoughts and wants as we did. They had mothers that might weep to know they’re gone. I can’t... I don’t stop thinking of them.” 

“It’s a bit too late for me to start feeling sorry for it,” Taehyun says. “You can’t let it rule you. Not everybody is good, and they were not. If they try to hurt you, you hurt them first. If they lay their hands on you, you cut them off.” 

You grow tense as he explains, eyes so heavy that you can practically feel the dark hollows beneath them. “Not even when you hurt someone for the first time? It didn’t bother you then?” 

He eyes you. The pine smell of him so close to you is both familiar and a distant memory. “I saw blood too early for it to ever haunt me.” 

Turning finally, you find his eyes. “I feel so guilty.” Your body buzzes with the need to curl into him, to have him comfort you for it, but you know that he won’t receive it the way you want him to. The way Yeonjun had.  

But you need it. You need it so bad right now. 

“That won’t absolve it. Guilt will not raise them from the dead,” he says. It’s forthright, but he doesn’t mean it to disconcert you. “You’re tearing yourself up inside, but there’s justice in protecting yourself.” 

Swallowing around tension, you nod. He’s right; you had every right to kill those times. You’ve known that the whole time. So, why does it still visit you in the deep hours of the night? You chant his words in your head, as if to beat them into your skull. If you try hard enough, you will. 

“What happens?” he asks, when the both of you have been quiet for too long. It’s strange to see him making attempts to fill silence. “In the dreams, what happens?” 

Shifting into a cozier position, you lean into the headboard by your shoulder. Some of the adrenaline has worked itself away, but remembering it is still bitter.  

You don’t miss the flickering of his eyes over the expanse of your thigh. You might’ve explained it away as a quick glance if that... look had not passed over his face. Restraint—darting eyes and his throat bobbing. It seems that his concern about being in your bed was about more than just propriety. 

“Mostly, blood.” You make a distraction out of the hemming of your blanket, pinching and picking at it. “So much of it. Sometimes the dreams are different, but... it’s always the common theme.” 

Acknowledging that, he dips his head in a slow, shallow nod. “We’ll start training you on the bow, then.” 

“The bow?” you ask.

“I think that the long range will be better for you,” Taehyun elaborates.

You drink his face in once more. In it, you see him reaching out a hand—it’s shaky and awkward and untrained. But under all that, you see that he’s trying. In the silver moonlight, the bow does not look so bad.

Taehyun doesn’t leave you until dawn cracks through the windows.

❆

You wish that you had your gloves. It’s freezing today—wind whipping your hair and teeth chattering even through your extensive layering. You have, like, two pairs of woolen stockings on. But Taehyun said that you’ll need to be able to grip the bowstring good, and so you abandoned them when you’d dragged all this on. 

He’d made good on his word. Now, you’re out in some shallow neck of the woods, and he’s pointing out the trees that you’re supposed to be using for targets. They’re obscured in the onslaught of snowy haze. You want to gripe that he’d picked the worst day to drag you out here, but really, you know it was a fully intentional choice. 

“No bullseye for now, just try and hit them wherever you can manage.” Taehyun makes a gesture up at the array of trees. “Don’t forget that the wind is blowing west. You’ll have to adjust for that.” 

He watches you take up an arrow, quiet as you clumsily wiggle it around until it sits in a spot that feels relatively correct. 

“Higher,” he finally says. “Find the rest for the arrow, and then you’ll find the nocking point on the string.” 

You fumble with the placement some more, freezing fingers not as agile as they could be. Just as he said, the arrow falls into a place where it sits comfortably. “This?” 

He hums, voice closer. “That’s good. Now, you lift it just like that. Don’t lose that hold, and pinch the back of the arrow, behind the feathers, with your knuckles.” 

Raising the bow, you’re so concentrated on keeping the arrow in place that it shocks you how hard it is to pull the bowstring. The further back you pull it, the more force it demands from you. You only manage to bring it halfway before you stop. “Woah.” 

Wind stops brushing your cheeks and hair so hard, and Taehyun’s voice comes from right beside you this time. “Harder than you thought it’d be, huh?” he says, smirk in his voice matching the one you find on his mouth when you turn to look at him. “It’s going to be hard for a while. You’ve got to build up the muscle for it. For now, you just have to power through it.” 

You try again, finding the spot where your muscles protest and then going beyond it. Your arms tremble, some spot in the middle of your chest aching with it. You sift through the trees, rushing to find one to release the arrow on before you can no longer maintain the hold. 

“Stand straighter.” He reaches over to adjust your arm, pulling the string-wielding one even further back and forcing your chest further open. Your arms burn. You’re not sure how much longer you can hold like this. 

“Hurry,” you say. 

“Go ahead.” 

Deciding on the nearest tree, you let the string go from between aching fingertips. It misses and passes the tree to land somewhere in the foliage behind it, but not as awfully as you’d expected. Hissing, you shake out your arms and stretch your shoulders to try and kill the burn, but it lingers. “You made that look a lot easier than it really is,” you tell him. 

“My first shot looked a lot like that,” he says, leaned back into a tree. “That was a great first try. I should’ve had you on the bow earlier.” He motions to the bow. “Show me another one.” 

Arms still ringing, you sloppily repeat. None of the arrows meet their mark, and you get worse with each. You’d done so well with the first one, though. Frustration sparks in your chest, catching into a flame when this one misses as well. The cramping in your shoulders and the gnawing of frost at your fingers do not help your temper. “Guess that was beginner’s luck,” you say, jaw tense. “I can’t shoot for shit, now.” 

Pushing himself off the tree, Taehyun approaches you once more and says, “It helps if you breathe out before letting the arrow go, but it’s mostly that your arms are tired. Today isn’t about aim, it’s about repetition.” Now in front of you, his eyes dart down to your mouth, but it’s a split-second look. You’d have missed it with a blink. You want to ask him why he keeps looking at you like that—like how he had in your bed that one night. You don’t want to make the air awkward, though.  

To be more honest with yourself, you’re afraid to ask. You’re afraid what the answer might be; you have don’t even have the foggiest clue. “Maybe we should go back. I’ll just stick with what I know.” 

“So, you’ll just give it up when it gets hard?” he says, a little ticked off. A muscle in his jaw feathers.  

You wonder what he’s thinking, beyond just what he’s saying. What he feels beyond what he’ll let you see. The reason that Taehyun dropped the spy life the moment you’d told him you’d stay here with Yeonjun is still just as elusive to you. You’re no fool—you’d seen the look that passed over his face when you had. It had brought a chill down your spine, something hollow but also desperate. Taehyun does not seem like the type taken to puppy love. He does not seem like the type to follow whims, either. So, what is this? You’re unsure what to make of it, and what to make of him.

You two had been snapping teeth and blazing arguments, but what lays beneath that? Why does the impenetrable man let you get under his skin the way he does? 

“Yes,” you say, just to ruffle some feathers. “I’ll just keep working on swordplay.” 

He catches the bait. “Then, what are we out here for? I thought close combat was bothering you.” Flakes of fluffy snow sit on his hair, white petals against black. “And, it doesn’t hurt to diversify your skillset. Not with a war looming.” 

Frustration gives way to softness. Taehyun doesn’t have to be out here. He has no obligations to help you with your ridiculous, pitiful dreams. You’re thankful for it, no matter how rugged he comes across while doing it. “I’m just messing with you. You make it too easy,” you say, offering him a smile. Beneath it, you’re left reeling with the reminder about the war. In your choosing to omit it from your thoughts, you’d just about forgotten about it. Anxiety comes crashing back through the crumbling dam. By now, the King has absolutely realized that Yeonjun is not coming back. Does he think that the north has hurt him or holds him hostage? He might start the war himself, then. A thought dawns upon you. That might’ve been the intention all along—to have him start things, to remain faultless. Taehyun had said that the Queen is a scheming sovereign. 

“War,” you say, licking over chapped lips. “Do you think it’ll really happen? That it’ll come to battles?” You can’t help worrying. You’ve chosen your side in staying here. What if that was the wrong choice? What if your betrayal comes around to bite you? Or, what if the north’s reputation for brutality ends up doing the job before it ever can? You feel surrounded by death—surrounded by walls of violence, where too far in one direction would be your end. “It’s not as if I’ll be fighting, though.” 

Face solemn, he says, “Let’s start heading back.” 

That draws no complaints from you, tucking fingers under your arms to try and save them. He hadn’t answered your question, though. “Taehyun?” 

Brittle leaves and brush crunch underfoot. “It’s coming.” 

Narrowing your eyes at him, tensed in the shoulders, you ask, “Why are you acting like that? Are you hiding something from me?” 

The both of you pause to let a dryad scurry off, snow falling off its bark skin in chunks as it crashes through the forest and away from you. These woods are a lot fuller than the ones you’d found Beomgyu in. 

“Taehyun,” you repeat. Your stomach is sick. Skin burning, you get flashes of memories—of Yeonjun’s guilty eyes that night. It rushes through your bloodstream like icy water. This feels like an overreaction, but your body does not align with your stuttering heart. You can’t tamp it down. “What is it? I don’t like secrets.” Your voice comes out fragile, like it’ll break in the frigid air like ice and fall down to the ground in a crash. 

His face is hard. You don’t like that, either. 

“You’re not going to be fighting, but I know what is planned. It’s messy; messy and dirty. And dirty wars are not afraid of collateral damage.” 

Frowning, you ask, “How do you know what’s planned?” 

“It’s a general’s job to know the war he leads his army into.” 

You stop dead. “Are you serious?” you snap, voice on a tight leash. “Seriously, Taehyun?” He keeps walking, forcing you to tear your feet from their spot to follow him. Jogging to match his stride, you say, “So, you’re just going to take up his will? You’re going to lead a war, like him? What about me, Taehyun? What happens to me?”  

It seems that he’s fully taken over his role as heir to his father and his estate, but why? Why, if he sheared off his own ears to escape that legacy? Taehyun’s moral code has exceptions for violence, but he said it himself—he doesn’t like senseless killing. Not like what would come with taking on this role.  

“Being general secures me a seat while they discuss their plans. It means I have sway in what happens. This is not for my enjoyment, or for power, like how my father saw it,” he says, measured and steady. “You’ve not seen a Faerie war. They’re given to dramatics, and they span... they span long. If something is going to happen, it’s better off that I’m in the room that they discuss it. Otherwise, we’re just sitting here and crossing out fingers that we don’t get caught in the crossfire.” Head held high, he adds, “This is my duty.” 

Anxiety warms your frozen bones. “Duty?” you say through a caustic laugh. “You’ll be going to war, Taehyun.” 

“Not petty battles. If something more drastic happens, I suppose I would, but being a foot soldier is not my role in this. Maybe my father would’ve, just to see the blood and carnage, but not me,” he says, as if that makes it any better. 

“I don’t like this.” 

“They know we were here as spies. They could decide at any moment to kill us. As general, my position would protect us.” He levels you a stare, hard. “You decided to stay here for him, so this is what I have to do.” 

A terrible sickness settles in your stomach with his words. These are the consequences to your actions, for your overenthusiasm, but you feel more like a burden than sorry for yourself.  

You want to tell him to stop paying the prices; that it’s not his job, but a chilly breeze sings in your ears that it’s much too late for that.  

  ❆

Biting back complaints and the prickling of tears, you let Conifer work on your hair. She’s merciless with the tugs and pins, fingers threading through strands to tug them up into the frilly and loose updo.  

“Why do I need to be dressed?” you ask her, watching her work dutifully behind you through the mirror. 

“My Lady,” she says around a pin she holds in between her lips. “One moment.” 

“You don’t have to call me Lady, or anything,” you tell her, wincing at the sound of it. “I’m no more a Lady than you.” She’d come into your room, nervously plucking at the pine needles on her forearms as she informed you that she needed to get you prettied up. It’s random, but you’d perked up immediately. It’s been so long since you’ve done anything—so long since you had a reason to look pretty and drag on glittering dresses. Not doing the work yourself is strange, though. You wonder if this is what your life would’ve been with Yeonjun, with servants waiting at every corner to pamper you and make sure that your hands never again see any type of hard work.  

You shake those thoughts away. That’s not your life here in Taehyun’s estate. It does you no use comparing. You’re not so used to this, anyway. It gets under your skin a bit, though you know they’re working off debts in his service.  

“Oh, the Lord would prefer that I do,” she says. A sharp pin scrapes up against your scalp as she pushes it in, securing up a willowy tress. All Yeonjun’s gifts—the dress she’d laid out for you, and the jewels she garnishes you in. How strange is it to have Taehyun’s servants dressing you in Yeonjun’s things? You still don’t know why he even bothered with bringing them in. You all were managing before. It's not as if any of you are the type to demand being waited on, anyway. You all have lived in more humble means. Beomgyu literally comes from the forest. And, why would it even matter how she addresses you to Taehyun? 

It wouldn’t be fair of you to demand her to call you otherwise, then. You nod. “I’m sorry you have to work for me.” 

“Oh, it’s no bother, dear. I’m grateful that the Lord has chosen such a way for me to pay him for my debt.” She tugs a few tendrils loose. It looks now more like the style is worn in by a good night spent dancing and laughing than freshly combed up. “There are worse ways to do so.” 

That’s right. For her, servitude is only a result of some extrenuating circumstance. Your servitude was nowhere near your fault. That’s where the difference lies; why she can be so blithe about it. 

“What happened?” you ask. It’s an invasive question, sure, but you prefer to ask it straight. No buttering it up or smoothing over words. 

“The late General spared my life on a whim. I’d worked this estate for years, even watched the boy grow into his manhood, until the General passed and the young Lord went disappearing. No reason to work an empty estate. And now, by bloodline, my debt is owed to him.” 

You frown. Serving under Taehyun’s father, only because he decided out of the kindness of his heart to not murder you, sounds harrowing.  

“But, that’s of no importance, dear. The Lord is expecting you; the Queen holds council soon.” Hastily, Conifer slides one last pin in, just for safe measure. “It’s terribly important that you maintain good manners, dear. Stay by the Lord, and do not speak unless they speak to you.” 

Council? He’s expecting you to come with him to a war council? You pause, but she ushers you up and away. 

Bounding down the stairs in a flurry of feet, you hold your skirts in a death grip, heart clenching with nerves. Once, you’d been a mirror to this—panicking over attending Court for the first time. That was nothing. If you had been oblivious to Court propriety, sitting in on a Faerie council in the presence of the Queen and her entourage... You’re screwed. So, so screwed. 

Taehyun waits beside the blackthorn tree. Noticing you, he greets, “Ready?” 

“You’re serious about this?” you say. It’s hard to speak around the lump in your throat. “Why do I have to come? It seems more like a risk than anything.” 

Brows furrowed, he adjusts his tunic. “You’re smart, aren’t you?” he says, cadence flat and matter-of-fact. “It’s not a risk. I’m bringing you so that they know you’re with me. You won’t have to come to any more after this, unless it’s what you want.” 

Frowning, you say, “I feel as though they’ll react not so kindly to a human just... waltzing into a war council. You really think they’ll just let me come and sit in?” The Queen will be there, and all the terrifyingly massive players in the Unseelie Court, and then... You. You’ll just have to make yourself seem important enough to be there. Taehyun is one of those invaluable players now, you suppose. The General. Your mind still struggles to wrap itself around the enormity of that.  

Will Yeonjun be there? He’s no doubt got the status. You pick at your fingers viciously. You’re not ready to see him again; not sure if you’ve fortified your walls enough for that yet. You might crumple with just a glance, but to sit in the same room as him? 

“They’ll trust my judgement,” he says. The lines of his face do not carry the same confidence that his voice does. “You’re not just stumbling in. You’re walking in with me.” 

“But, I’m sure they’re all very aware by now that we were spies. Doesn’t that leave a stain on your word?” 

He reaches up to a low-hanging branch, dark and bristling with thorns, and snaps off the very ends of them into thin poles of twig armed with spikes. The thistles remind you of his eyes—in fact, the whole tree does. Barbed and dark and sturdy; the House of Blackthorn could not have better chosen their symbol.  

“They made me their general,” he says, circling until he’s come behind you. “They’ve already made up their minds.” 

Tugging at your hair tells you that he’s wiggling those sticks, black and sharp, into the updo, as if they’re accessories. It’s like what he’d done with those berries just before you’d gone to Court for the first time, but these twigs do not act like a ward like they had.  

You turn to interrogate him and his sudden interest in your hairstyle, but confusion splinters off into nothing when his cold hand brushes at the back of your neck. In a heart-pounding moment, his sword-roughened fingers drag down the length of your jaw from behind. He grabs your chin his hand and turns your face further toward your shoulder. Snowflakes and the breeze and the stars all stand frozen around you. Or, maybe, you haven’t got the will to pretend they exist while he’s leaning down so that he’s right in your ear and whispering with puffed breaths that raise chills on your skin. 

Under his breath, low and just for your ears, he says just one word. It’s one that you don’t recognize, curling in a way that you doubt your tongue would be able to even pronounce. As quickly as the moment had come, he releases your face. Snow crunches under his feet as he retreats. 

Blinking for a moment, you spin on your heel to follow him. You make a point to not catch his stride fully, though. He absolutely should not see how ruffled you are. “What does that mean?” 

He doesn’t answer, only leaving you in a flustered, charged silence. You beg the wintry breeze to carry away your racing thoughts, or at least to lick at your cheeks and cool them. Whatever it was that he’d said, you can only assume it to be in an ancient Faerie tongue. 

With a stuttering heart, you follow him. You’ll just have to whistle in the dark. If you don’t do it scared, you won’t do it at all, and you’re always scared. 

❆

Inside the council room, a handful of who you assume to be the Queen’s most important advisors sit around a circle table. On that table stand war maps and a collection of letters and objects no doubt important to plans and intel. 

In one of those seats sits Yeonjun. Of course, he’s here. You’d anticipated as much, but that doesn’t change the way you jump right out of your skin the split second your eyes meet. It’s a fiery exchange, sending sparks up your spin and rendering your mind a blistering mess. His eyes are hard. He doesn’t shy away from it the way you do, tearing yourself away to sit in the seat next to Taehyun’s.  

It’s not just Yeonjun’s eyes that burn on your skin. They’re wondering why you’re here. You itch to dip out and away from their scrutiny. 

“Do I have to say anything?” you say, voice barely anything but a whisper as you lean over to Taehyun. “Like, announce myself or anything?” 

“Not now,” he says. “Not unless you’re asked to.” 

Fidgeting with your dress under the table, you dip your head in a shallow, quick nod. You’ll just mind your own, unless you’re forced to do otherwise. You can’t risk saying something that’ll end up screwing you both over. 

Chairs scrape the floor, faeries standing and dipping at the waist. You follow them. Your back is to the door, but you don’t need to see to know who’s arrived. The Queen. 

She sits in her seat, at the head of the table, and everybody else follows. You swallow hard. Her eyes, hardened and storm-colored, pin each of the attendees as she sweeps the room. A diadem of twigs and rotted leaf lays on her tangle of hair. The Unseelie Queen; she looks the part. Breath catches in your throat when her eyes come to you. 

When she opens her mouth to speak, jagged teeth reveal themselves from behind grey lips. “The human girl. Does the Blackthorn house claim her?” she asks. Her voice commands the air—both slackened and imposing. 

Yeonjun’s eyes bare down on you.  

Taehyun answers her. “Yes. She is my retinue.” 

One of the council members, with a haughty, long face and a sneer to match it, says, “Is this the girl that you sang so profusely to us for, prince? The spy girl?” His ruffled sleeves flourish as he gestures. He’s dressed especially plummy among them, but they all are dressed in glittering robes and tunics. This faerie no doubt thinks highly of himself, though, to be poking at Yeonjun.  

Yeonjun had spoken of you here?  

You feel a little frozen. Becoming the center of their attention is the very last thing you’d wanted. Rather than sinking back into your seat, you claw at your insides to keep your head held high. You do exchange a quick glance with Taehyun, who’s mouth is pulled taut.  

He takes it in stride. “Yes, it is.” 

“You beseeched us for her safety, but...” the black-haired faerie continues, “She’s sat beside our General.” A cruel smile plays on his lips. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “And I believe it to be unprecedented that a human joins us here, your highness.” He turns to the Queen, a smile that tells exactly of the game he’s playing. 

“Not here,” the Queen snaps. “We haven’t the time for this. Who cares. Let’s not waste what slight time we have, with all of us in attendance.” 

The black-haired faerie snaps his mouth shut, but a nasty attitude lingers. 

Another speaks up. “Your majesty, is there not something to be said of the exclusivity pertaining to who we meet here with?” 

She drums her fingers on the arm of her seat. Bored. “Be gone with it. I did not know you’d become so wary of humans.” 

That stings. You’re not even worthy of being a threat. Jaw tightened, you grit your teeth. 

“She has ears,” he says. “And a well-working mouth, I’m sure, and we have delicate issues to discuss.” 

None of them press any further as she sends them a pointed stare. They begin offering up and discussing their positions and knowledge, much of it lost on you. All you’re thankful for is that most of it is bickering over how to approach the war, and not plans for full-fledged schemes.  

Taehyun offers up his approach a few times, his voice carrying strong and his shoulders squared. Yeonjun does not speak much at all.  

And when it’s over and everybody disassembles, you know you’ve got to leave. Fast; fast enough that Yeonjun will not be able to corner you into a conversation that you are too flimsy to be having. As you do, though, you war against every instinct in your body—heart and feet and arms ringing pleas in your bones. You can’t. Really, you can’t. 

“Pretty.”  

That voice, smooth but also so very sullen now, shatters your frenzied bubble. You go solid and frozen to the ground. 

“Pretty, look at me,” he grits out, voice cracked down and raw.  

When you don’t, he steps around you. His eyes dart up, taking in something on your head, and then his jaw ticks when he finds something he doesn’t like. The blackthorn twigs in your hair. 

He’d looked sullen and detached when sitting at the table, but here, up close, he looks awful—far and beyond worse than you’ve ever seen him. It’s as if you’d ripped the heart right out of his chest and asked him to go on living without it. In the hollowness there’s a sadness, but there’s also a blazing anger. 

A frozen hand takes your upper arm and tugs hard. “Come on. We’re leaving.” Taehyun’s voice is hard. 

You stumble forward with him, summoning the will within you to not look back while you do. You do not want to watch his face as you leave. You absolutely cannot. Your gut twists viciously.  

You’re pathetic, missing him the way you do. 

❆

When you get the first letter, you accept it from the servant uneasily. You don’t even ask whose letter it is. The wax seal tells you enough, but you’d know even without it. Yeonjun has broken his silence. 

It confuses you. Taehyun had intercepted his letters when he sent them before. Why does he not bother, now? It doesn’t feel like a kindness. It feels intentional—like a gambit. Beomgyu had made a point to take those original letters from you. You know he meant well in the cheeky way that he shows his companionship, but you’re spineless after all, and they come at a very weak moment. Just as you’ve built up wavering pillars, he reaches in and crumbles them down as if they were nothing.  

ℐ 𝑘𝓃𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝑡𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑘 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝑡’𝓈 𝑙𝒾𝑒𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝑡 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓅𝒶𝑟𝓉 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓁. 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝒾𝑛𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝑡 𝓅𝒶𝑟𝓉 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝑙. 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝓇𝑦 𝒷𝒾𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝑙. 𝐹𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝓇𝑦 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝑛𝓉 ℐ 𝑙𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝑡𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝒹. 𝒩𝑜 𝑙𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑟 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉. 𝒲𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝒹; 𝒲𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝑣𝑒𝒹 𝑡𝑟𝓊𝑒.  

𝐼’𝓂 𝓈𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝑦 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉𝒾𝑛𝑔 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝑦 𝒸𝒾𝓇𝒸𝓊𝓂𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝑡𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝒸𝓉 𝑙𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 ℐ’𝒹 𝒽𝓊𝑟𝓉 𝑦𝑜𝓊. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝓌 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝑟𝓊𝑒. 𝒟𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝑘𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝑟𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝑙𝒾𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓈𝑜.  

𝒴𝑜𝓊𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓊𝑛𝓉 𝓂𝑒. 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝑦 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝑙𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝑛, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑦𝑒𝓉 ℐ 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉.  

𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝑛𝒹 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝓊𝑟 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓈𝑡 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝒾𝓉. 𝐼 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝑣𝑒 𝒾𝓉. 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝑡 𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓎 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉; 𝐼 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝑙𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒹𝑟𝑜𝓅 𝑜𝑓 𝒾𝓉. 𝒯𝑒𝓁𝑙 𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑓𝒾𝓍 𝑡𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝑛𝒹 ℐ’𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝑣𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝒶𝓈𝑘 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝑦 𝑓��𝑜𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑛𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉.  

𝒴𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒿𝓊𝑛 

You’re able to let this one roll off your shoulders, but the next few are not so easy. 

𝐼 𝑤𝒾𝑠𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ℎ𝑎𝒹 𝑠𝓉𝒶𝓎𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑙𝒾𝓈𝑡𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒. 𝐼 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝑟𝓈𝑡𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑤𝒽𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃’𝑡, 𝑎𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝑡, 𝐼 𝑠𝓉𝒾𝓁𝑙 𝑤𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ℎ𝒶𝒹. ℐ’𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝒾𝑠𝑡𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊.  

𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 ℐ 𝑝𝓁𝒶𝑔𝓊𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝓊𝑟 𝑚𝒾𝓃𝒹. 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝑓𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝑤𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝓈 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑡, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝑡 𝑏𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝑏𝒶𝒸𝑘 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, 𝑡𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝓂𝑒: 𝑚𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝓂𝑠. 𝒲𝒾𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒, 𝓃𝑜𝓉 ℎ𝒾𝑚. 𝒩𝑜𝓉 ℎ𝒾𝑚.  

𝒫𝑒𝓇𝒽𝒶𝓅𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝑙 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓅𝑡 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝑏𝓊𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝒾𝓁𝑙 𝓃𝑜𝓉. 𝒯ℎ𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝑡𝒽 𝓊𝓃𝑓𝒾𝓃𝒾𝑠𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝑤𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑟𝒾𝑒𝑣𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝑠.    

𝑁𝑜. 𝒯ℎ𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝑠𝓃’𝑡 𝑒𝓃𝒹.   

𝒴𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒿𝓊𝓃 

The letters change with your prolonged silence, too. 

𝒮𝑒𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑟𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝑏𝓎 ℎ𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒, 𝒶𝓈 𝒾𝑓 𝓎𝑜𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓈… 𝒟𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑤𝒶𝑛𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝒸𝑟𝒶𝓏𝓎? 𝐼 𝒹𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 ℐ’𝓋𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝓉 𝓈𝑜 𝑜𝑢𝓉 𝑜𝑓 𝓂𝓎 𝑜𝓌𝑛 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙 𝒶𝓈 𝐼 𝒹𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑤. 𝐼𝑓 𝓉ℎ𝒶𝓉 𝑤𝒶𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝒾𝑛𝑡𝑒𝓃𝑡𝒾𝑜𝑛, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ℎ𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝑢𝓇 𝓂𝒶𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙. 

𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑛𝑢𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝒾𝓈 𝑏𝒶𝑛𝒾𝓈ℎ𝓂𝑒𝑛𝓉 𝒾𝑓 𝓎𝑜𝑢 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉, 𝑏𝓊𝓉 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝑛. 𝐼𝑡'𝓈 𝑜𝓃𝑙𝓎 𝑓𝒶𝓉𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌ℎ𝑜 𝒶𝓂 𝐼 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒 𝑤𝒾𝑡ℎ 𝑓𝒶𝑡𝑒?  

𝒴𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒿𝑢𝓃 

It’s jarring, it’s more of that desperate pleading that you’ve been trying so hard to escape, and it’s burrowing deep down into the tender parts of your heart like a stake. 

There are some letters that are even more frenzied than that. They’re testaments to his promises: this doesn’t end. 

You had been sorely mistaken in thinking that Yeonjun would just step away. Terribly mistaken. Deep in your belly brews the feeling that this is not going to go over as smoothly as you hoped it would. In retrospect, how had you ever thought you could cleanly tear him off you? This is not like ripping off a bandage—quick and painful—no, this will be much, much more unpleasant than that. Yeonjun had done a delicate job of veiling just how wretchedly he loves you, but you’d seen peeks of it. Flickers and moments of potent neediness and jealousy, quickly smoothed over with something more groomed and palatable. Now, you see it in full force. As soon as given the need to unveil himself, he was not afraid to. As long as it brings him you. 

But he will not get you. You’re not yet so foolish to go falling back into his arms. Not after you’d done just that, and then learned what trusting him just based off his inability to lie meant. It’s not as if you’re not already slowly wanting to forgive him for the fact that his initial job was to kill you. In weak moments, you construct excuses. But if you brush off lie after lie, where is the limit to the lies you’ll accept, if only just for him? There would be none. That is a dangerous beast to toe.  

You think you know now, why Taehyun lets you read those letters freely.  

  ❆

Lifting your fist to knock on the door, you bounce on your heels. Taehyun tells you to come in, voice muffled behind the door. 

Stepping in, you drink in the sight of his quarters. Not once in the months that you’ve spent here have you been in his room. In the center is the bed, bedding coal black. His desk is cluttered with maps and stray daggers. Taehyun works on the strap to his leather baldric, looking up to you.  

“Where are you going?” you ask him.  

“They called me for council,” Taehyun answers. He straightens up. “What’s up?” 

You purse your lips. “Oh,” you say. “Nothing. I was just seeing what you were up to.” 

Honestly, you’re not entirely sure why you’d stumbled in here. It had just felt right in that moment. It couldn’t hurt to try and mend the tensions that lay between you two, anyway. If this is going to be your home, it’s better off that way. 

Taehyun nods slowly, as if he’s not entirely sure what to say. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. 

A smile tugs at your mouth. Beneath the confident, hardened exterior, Taehyun is stiff in the face of emotional connection. “Didn’t want me to join you for this one?” 

He shakes his head, the lines in his shoulders stiffening as if the thought were offensive. 

Scoffing around a laugh, you say, “I didn’t do that bad, did I?” It’s more to pester him than offense—you’d had your fill. And you want to know what’s changed; why he’s suddenly averse to you joining.  

Jaw shifting, he says, “No, you didn’t.” Taehyun brings his hand up and adjusts his collar. “I’d just prefer it.” 

You change tack. His face has fallen a bit, and you’d intended to lighten things up. “It’s fine. That was boring anyway,” you say, “Besides, I’d prefer it here, with the army of servants waiting to see to my needs.” Tilting your head to one side, you give him a grin chock-full of mock pretension. 

His brow furrows. “The servants? Do you not like it?” 

Shrugging, you answer, “I don’t hate it. It’s nice to have help getting ready, though, I guess. Makes me feel special.” To quell your own gnawing curiosity that’s been festering beginning the moment the first one had arrived, you add, “Why’d you do it, though?” 

His face flickers. “The estate needs to be run. They have duty to do so. If it were going to be anybody, it’s them.” 

You know that look. Living with Taehyun, you’ve got to become fluent in the face and even the most subtle changes. What he doesn’t speak in words, you’re forced to find there. Try as he might to fortify his mask, water will always find and slip through the cracks as slivers of true emotion crack through his face. He’s not telling you the truth. You narrow your eyes. 

“Yeah. I understand that. I just thought we were doing fine before, I guess.” 

“I thought...” he says. “Did the prince not keep servants?” 

Your frown deepens. Why would it matter whether or not Yeonjun has servants? Of course he’d have attendants; he’s a prince of Faerie. Mind churning for a moment, you stumble upon a thought. Or rather, it stumbles upon you. 

Taehyun had brought servants here because he figured that, because of your time with Yeonjun, you’d want that. It bothered him to think that Yeonjun could provide something for you that he couldn’t. He’d gone out and tracked down faeries indebted to him and his father because that got under his skin. You think to that morning he’d woken you up, spitting venom, because Yeonjun had sent you those dresses. And in his arm, he’d held a single crystalline gown. 

“Taehyun, why did you tell Yeonjun about our kiss?” 

For a split second, he’s taken aback, shifting as though you’d lit a fire under his feet. The air hangs heavy—so, so thick. It’s so stiff that you have to breathe with conscious effort. This silence, tense and on the brink of snapping, stretches for an eternity. Your mind reels; you’re just as caught off guard as him. You haven’t the faintest clue where you’d trudged up the nerve, but you had, and now you’re terribly curious to know his answer. The memory had hovered around, blazing and impossible to brush off, from the very moment the words had tumbled out from Yeonjun’s lips. How had you even lasted this long, pretending it hadn’t happened? All off that electric curiosity comes to a head here—now—and you do not know if you’ve prepared well enough for the truth of it. 

As silent as it is, the moment buzzes. It’s deafeningly loud, just as it is deafeningly quiet. His silence answers just as well as words.  

His answer slices the air, cutting through the tension like a scalding knife. “The prince told you that?” 

You step toward him, looking up at him through your lashes. “He did," you say, quick and dismissive. “Why did you tell him? When?” 

A flash—a flash of something untamed and deep like the woods—renders his eyes dark. You remember that look; he’d scarcely let you see it. It had scrawled under your skin the first time he had. Something in it strips you down to your very bones, where you are nothing more than buzzing soul and heat. Taehyun approaches you in dark, languid steps. You’re lightheaded, breaths lodged deep in your chest. Any semblance of clarity you might have had becomes a lost cause as he takes your face in his hands and leaves you no other option than to meet those smoldering eyes. Bitterly cold hands bite into the soft skin of your cheeks. Cold-blooded. 

Your head spins. “Taehyun?” you say, short and breathless. Even just a naked whisper of his name, you struggled to manage it. Him, here, in front of you, is both so real that it rattles you down to you core and so intangible that you wouldn’t dare believe it. And yet, blistering eyes pierce through the mist, and you know that it is sickeningly real.  

“Fuck,” he says, mouth turned down and at war with the rest of his face. He’s so close that you feel the word on your face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His throat bobs. “I don’t know who this is.” 

In a stumble of clumsy feet, you clash with the desk in a rattle. There’s hardly any perch for you, but in a scramble, you curl your fingers white-knuckled around the edge. He has you pinned between him and the wood with nowhere to breathe and nowhere to think. A controlled, shaky breath comes tumbling from behind your lips. Electricity crackles in the air between you, and you’re weak to it. You turn your head away, clawing for some semblance of control or respite from the bare intensity. 

Despite your shock, somewhere deep, deep down in your belly, you know that this is only the fruit of some howling storm that has been swirling—swirling and churning and gaining power. You’d felt the trembling of it, the promise of something explosive and imminent, as oblivious as you were to its source. Now, the ground cracks open beneath you, and it will accept nothing other than to swallow you whole. 

“Do you not think of me as a man?” he grits out. Since you’ve decided to blatantly avoid his gaze, he gets down right into your neck. “Well, I am. And you brought him here. Brought him into my home, and you let him touch you. ” 

Taehyun had been there that day.  

It’s as if time itself slows down around you. This moment inflates into something infinite. Everything that he’d done, every little thing that you’d struggled to digest, is laid out before you. He’s holding your hips as if you’ll fade around the edges and leave him here. There’s something raw beneath the growled words; something desperate. 

Belly flipping ruthlessly, you speak, but they’re not coherent thoughts. “I... didn’t think that...” 

He’s quick to cut you off, rearing back to look you in the eyes once more, forcing you to do the same. And he holds you there. “Do you think that he can provide for you better than me? That I can’t provide you your needs?” 

Your heart is a ravenous, wild thing in your chest. All that he’d done: the dress, the servants, finding Beomgyu, staying here in the north, demanding that you don’t depend or even associate with Yeonjun, urging you to not attend Court because he knew Yeonjun would be there—was because it was supposed to be him. And it was killing him because finally something had managed to drive right through that suit of ice armor he struggles so hard to keep up, right down to where his real emotions slumber, and he is forced to feel something. In all that banishing emotion away, he’s now faced with this blazing consumption, and he is utterly lost. 

Taehyun curses, a relenting of his will, before he’s taking your lips to his. It’s a ravaging, fervent meeting, clashing teeth and roaming hands with no destination. He lifts you up onto the desk, and then his hand finds the hair at the very back of your head. You remember this wild dance of tongue and mouth—the first time he’d put his mouth on you, it’d been just the same. You’re gasping and clawing at his shoulders.  

What on earth are you doing? 

His hands are all over you. It’s as if he can’t get enough, as if he’s catching up to all that had been bursting at the seams in his mind. His lips taste like finally. When he’s forced to release your lips for air, it’s not as if he gives you any real room to breathe—his lips fall like glowing ashes down the column of your neck. You’re helpless to the whines he takes from your lips. He melds your bodies into one clumsy thing, pushing you down into the desk in a clumsy clatter. He wholly overwhelms you, and you think that it is a conscious effort. He intends to wiggle his way into every little corner, every little space, until you have no room for thought but him. If the drunken haze that’s rendered your thoughts sluggish is anything to speak of his efforts, he’s succeeded. 

You catch yourself halfway down, before your back makes it down onto the desk. His mouth is back on yours, spinning with the sting of your scalp as he guides you through his kiss. His hands reach your upper thigh, making slow work of bunching the fabric. 

“If you knew,” he says, appreciating the bare skin as if it were as precious as jewel and gold the same way he had that night in your bed: as if every inch were just as intimate as a glimpse of your cunt. “If you knew what I think about doing to you.”  

Blood roars beneath your skin. The confession that Taehyun has thought about touching you like this, or the fact that he’s been battling against his own mind in the onslaught of those thoughts, sheds a new light over so much. Beneath that stony face, he’d been needing you.  

Through the licking of your bottom lip and the buzzing behind your skull, you see Yeonjun’s face. Your stomach does a flip. You’re not supposed to feel guilty. You shouldn’t, but guilt slices like a molten dagger through the haze. How can you be here, doing this, when he’s out there aching for you? As far as you distance yourself from his sphere, you’re still reminded of who taught you your body now that another man touches you. You imagine how hurt he’d be if he saw you now. 

You rage against those thoughts. You owe no guilt to the man that had only ever approached you because you were his target. 

Taehyun’s gaze meets yours. You must’ve gone quiet, or maybe still. Perhaps it’s your eyes that gives it away, though, because he does not like what he finds in them. In a blink, he’s retracting back into his shell.  

“You’re thinking of him,” he spits. His voice is so caustic and venomous as it falls out that your skin burns. “Even while I’m touching you.” 

You want nothing more than to reach in and pull that fire and raw emotion back out. He pulls away. Your skin is painfully empty of his touch. Chest aching, you say, “Taehyun, wait. Please. I wasn’t.” The lie rolls off your tongue too easily, but you can’t stand the chill fallen over your form. 

His face is far off and distant, his jaw set tight. He runs a hand through his hair, made a mess with your touch, the action punctuated by a barbed laugh. 

He doesn’t even say anything more to you when he leaves the room. He just leaves. You sit for a few minutes, legs dangling and blood roaring.  

Taehyun has kept a lot beneath a jaded and aloof front, but it seems that even he has a tipping point.  

❆

“That reeks,” Beomgyu says. He’s sat on the basin, legs dangling down. 

The water embraces you in a delightful lukewarm that disarms your nerves and has you drowsy. “Soap?” you say with a subsequent rich snort. You scoot, bathwater lapping at the walls of the tub when you bring your knees to your chest. The round tub is big enough for you to sprawl out, but you prefer sitting right up against the wall. Only the suds and perfumed oils sitting in a thin, hazy film on top of the water protect your decency from Beomgyu’s eyes. With the servants insisting on helping you wash, though, you’ve become indifferent to bathing in front of others. It’s not as if you’ve got to worry about him leering, anyway. He doesn’t blink at your nakedness. You appreciate the company. “It smells clean. You know, so you don’t smell like straight mud.” 

“Mud is not such an offensive smell as that,” he says, nose crinkling. “You lather yourself in smells that are wholly unbelievable.” 

Laughing, you feign sending a spray of water droplets his way. “Well,” you muse, “We are not hewn from the same stone. We have to clean ourselves.” While your worldly body demands that you maintain hygiene with soap and water, the folk wash for leisure. You don’t bemoan it, though. It’s your reality—always will be—and you delight in coming out feeling fresh. “And your earthy... musk... is just as terrible to me as this is to you. So...” 

“Agree to disagree.” He sits still. Beomgyu is always eerily still—you’ve come to the realization that it’s because he doesn’t breathe. No rising or falling of his chest meant he could sit in absolute repose. You’re not entirely used to it, even now. How could anything be a living, talking being, without breath? There he sits, though.  

Echoes of your washing fill the room. You sigh. With each scrub, you imagine carving away both any dirtiness and any heavy thoughts. It doesn’t work, of course. You feel no less heavy. If only it were that easy. 

“Taehyun is general now,” you say, frown tugging at your face. “For the Queen.” Remembering it makes you feel impossibly heavier. It had been a secretive move, but still... He had become the one thing that has haunted him for you. His words yesterday said as much. You buzz at that memory, heart racing at just the memory. It had been a battle pretending your first kiss hadn’t happened, but this was different. Terribly different. 

You blink, trying to bring yourself together when Beomgyu says, huffing out a humorless laugh, “He is only his father’s son.” 

Sighing, you sink lower into the water. The kelpie wouldn’t be himself without some snide remark in Taehyun or his father’s expense. You know why he’d done it, now, but you’re awful and can’t help but consider what him being general might mean. Taehyun has a strict moral code; you don’t think he’ll go around killing in cold blood. Still, in order to retain his standing, he’ll have to carry out the council’s will. It’s a slippery slope; you fear the he’ll become the thing he’d once hated at your expense. With a sickened stomach, you hold your knees closer. You don’t want that. “He said it was to make sure we’re no longer targets. You know, since we came here as spies and all that,” you say, voice softening as thoughts grow louder. 

Agitated, Beomgyu slips off the basin. “Why would he have bothered with finding me, then, if he had already made other plans?” 

Spinning water with a finger and watching it swirl, you say, “I know for a fact it’s why he did it. It’s just that I don’t like it. I mean, getting involved in the war is one thing. We were already involved to some degree, anyway. Becoming the general is a whole other thing.” 

A wicked delight crackles across Beomgyu’s face, and you brace yourself for whatever has excited him so. “If you would deign it with your word... We could be gone from this estate. Anywhere that pleases us, free from the fool.” 

“Of course,” you say, rolling your eyes and watching him pace the floor. “It’s always dramatics with you. We’re not running away. Good try, though.” 

He pauses, grimacing down at you. You suppress a laugh. Maybe you could’ve entertained his grand plan. At least, for a moment. Your fingers have pruned up, but you have no will to drag yourself from the warmth. Let you just stay like this, cocooned in its welcoming arms, for a bit longer. Then, you’ll find it within you to face the memory of Taehyun’s hands and the gravity of what he’d let slip. 

❆

Dust motes flutter when caught in the light. You, with bare feet padding on the chilly morning floors, plow right through them. A clattering, so lively in the still sleep-ridden estate, floats out from the kitchens. You follow it. 

Beomgyu stands, lanky and strange as always, watching a servant work dutifully on a meal. You frown. It’s a bit early for any of your usual meals. 

“Hanging around in the kitchen? Thought you didn’t eat,” you say.  

He gives you a distracted grumble. “I can eat. I just don’t need to.” 

An eye roll slips. “That’s even worse. You asked for a meal to be made for you, just so that you can taste it,” you say, hand on your hip. “Very inconsiderate.” 

Disconcertment lines his face at that, looking back over at the servant. “I did not ask for a meal.” 

“Yeah... Okay. Anyway, do you know where Taehyun has gone? Out?” 

Beomgyu shakes his head. “No, I don’t believe he’s gone anywhere,” he says, eyeing you. “You’re searching for the Lord?” 

“I mean, I was just wondering where he is. I didn’t see him around, or anything.” 

“Oh, pull your stake from my heart,” he grumbles and scratches at his neck. “I fear you’ve abandoned me in my loathing, with who else am I to escape this place? ” he says.  

“There you go again,” you say, relenting to conversation. Conversation with Beomgyu makes you feel lighter. “If we ran away, we’d make it like... a week.” 

He cocks his head to the side. “You’d last a week. I’d be just fine.” 

“Oh, you think so?” you scoff. “And where would we go?” 

Now, he’s really riled up, throwing his arms up, exasperated. “To the forest,” he deadpans. “I... come from the forest. Of course I’d go to the forest.” 

Mouth pulled into a grin that you know will irk him, you say, “Sounds like a nice place. For you. You just want to get out of here, you don’t care about what happens to me. I’m hurt. This is supposed to be our escape plan, not Beomgyu’s.” 

He likes that, lips curling at the corners. “Well, I pride myself in my cleverness, and it’s not as though I’ll be leaving this rotten place by my own means,” Beomgyu says.  

“Oh, you’re just so clever.” You’ve become too familiar with that impish grin—he’s joking. But you don’t doubt for a second that if you were to propose running away, Beomgyu would be elated. He makes the jokes for a reason, anyway. It’s become a sort of game; him suggesting it, and you shutting it down. “And is that why you deign to bless me with your presence? Plotting and scheming?” 

“Don’t give me your sarcasm,” he huffs. “I deign you with my presence because I ought to. What else should I do?” 

“You love me,” you say, tableware and platters clattering and mingling with the sound of your voice. “I know it.” You drag out the last syllables in a taunting melody. 

 The servant who had been busy with making the breakfast, a hob you don’t really recognize, pokes in to tell you that it’s finished, so you move your conversation over to the table. Pulling out the chair, you eye the plates. It’s more extravagant than you usually eat here. It reminds you more of Court food or what few meals you’d had with Yeonjun: a honeyed meat and some fire-roasted burdock root. Beside it is a bowlful of salt, but it’s only by yours. You dip your head at the faerie, careful of course not to say thank you. That would mean that the faerie has done you a favor, and then you’d be expected to repay it. A simple gesture works just fine. 

Beomgyu doesn’t sit, nor does he take any interest in eating. Instead, he hovers at the far end of the long table, telling you, “I do not love anything.” 

Raising your brows at him, you say, “Whatever.” You salt the bitter root before forking it. “What are you so antsy for, anyway? Isn’t your whole thing that you sit around in a swamp for the entirety of your existence? What’s that, to staying in an estate for a bit? I think that you just like to complain to me.” 

He laughs, rocking on his heels. “It’s about free will,” he says, “And, maybe I do. Though, isn’t it a wonder that you complain to me just as much?” 

You’ve finished your plate. “Fair.” 

Taehyun emerges from a room. Your belly does a little surprised flip. You knew he was still here, but you’d hoped to avoid him. When you’d first arrived here, the estate had felt massive. Now, it’s not so much the same.  

 He doesn’t mention it, though. Instead, he surveys the table, and then his brows knit. “You’ve cooked?” 

“Not us. It was being made when I got up. There’s some for you, too, though. If you’re hungry.” 

His frown deepens, but he nods and wanders off into the kitchen. You understand. You’d been confused when you’d went into the kitchen to find a meal being made so early. It’s as if the servant is new and unfamiliar with schedules. Turning to Beomgyu, you say, “Anyway. Would sneaking out for one night appease you?” You push around the last bits of your breakfast, too full to eat anymore. “Maybe you just need to get the thrill out of your system. I have a tree by my window, that might up the ante rather than sneaking out the front door.” You give him a tongue-in-cheek raise of a brow. 

“Well, I don’t think it’s sneaking if you discuss it a room away from who you’re sneaking around,” he answers, picking at the wood of the table. “And, no.” 

At a crash, you both are whipping your heads toward the doorway. The hob servant is sprawled out on its knees. Taehyun’s face has gone cold, and he holds his sword out at the faerie in a point. Your eyes go wide, and you hop up out of your seat. “What are you doing?” you say, taking in the scene. Adrenaline sparkles in your pulse. One second, you’d been enjoying your morning, the next Taehyun has one of his servants at sword point. It’s whiplash.  

Despite your initial shock, though, you pull together the pieces—about the strangeness of the routine, and the unusual meal, and the unfamiliar faerie. You go to share a look with Beomgyu. In the narrow twitch of his eyes, you deduct that he’s come to the same conclusion. And, you’d eaten that whole meal.  

“Face me.” Taehyun barks out the command, looking down on the hob with a chilling severity. 

The faerie does slowly, bowing its head to avoid Taehyun’s face in an attempt to placate him. Taehyun says, “Who have you weaseled yourself into my estate for?” His voice carries, strong and unforgiving. It penetrates down to your marrow. You’re sure the hob feels it worse, though. There’s a long few moments with no answer. Either they won’t say it, or they can’t. They dip their head further. “If you think that your silence will earn you a quick death, it will not. Speak now, or give me your hand. I’ll have your fingers.” 

“Taehyun,” you say, shooting him a hard stare. “Are you serious?” Your stomach goes nauseous. You’ve seen Taehyun kill before, but a punishment like that, meant to inflict agony... It shocks you. 

Taehyun looks at you strangely, eyes at war with the rest of him. He says to you, keeping his sword on the hob, “Am I serious? You just ate all of that, who knows if it was poisoned.” Now stood behind the hob, he takes it by the scruff and lines the deadly edge of his sword up to its neck. 

Your heart does a little trick. You absolutely had eaten that food without question. Why would you question it? It hadn’t come to your mind at all that somebody might infiltrate this estate. With Taehyun’s new role, it only makes sense. You don’t feel bad, though. Not like when you had been poisoned at The Hovel. You’d felt that pretty fast and hard. Right now, you feel fine. As much relief as that brings you, it does beg the question: if they’d come here to do harm, why wouldn’t they utilize such a blaring opportunity? The hob had just... made you food. 

“I have every right to protect my home, and those who live in it.” Taehyun grabs harder, picking the hob up and pressing his sword in closer. The hob squeezes its narrow eyes shut. “It’s my duty.” 

It’s always duty, with Taehyun. The sight of the faerie bracing, knowing that Taehyun will hurt or kill it, worms under your skin. Your fingers strain in trembling fist. You can’t handle the awful sight, no matter if the faerie had intended to harm you. 

You think you know who’d sent the hob to come and be eyes on the inside of Taehyun’s estate, anyway. 

Beomgyu scoffs hoarsely from beside you. “I watched the fool make it. She’s not fallen sick, had she?” His bored eyes shine with distaste. "You, general, just miss the taste of blood on your tongue. You miss it dearly, I know. It’s a terrible hunger to have.” He exchanges the word Lord with one that you can acknowledge hits as a much lower blow, considering his past. Beomgyu would never miss the opportunity to remind Taehyun that from which he comes from. To that regard, you are thankful for not knowing who your parents are. No matter where you end up, at least you’ve had the power to mold your own legacy. Taehyun’s follows him, grim and stained red.  

“Taehyun, can’t you just make an exception this once? Beomgyu’s right. If they’d have wanted us hurt, they had a pretty good opportunity to. But, they didn’t.” You flex your fingers hoping to expel some nerves and step closer to where he’s stood. Making a point to catch his eyes and hold them hostage, you add, “We’d be hypocrites to kill for spying. You know that. Who are we, to call it justice and kill over this? That’s not fair.” 

He holds your eyes, pausing. “Exceptions are dangerous,” he says, but his voice is changed. There’s something other than ice-cold resolution there. You release a breath of tension.  

“I get that, but...” You search his face. “Please.” 

The estate is quiet aside from the huffing of the hob for a second. The look in Taehyun’s face changes, and then he’s throwing the faerie to the ground. He sheathes his sword with a crisp click that you’ve never been more elated to hear, and he snaps, “Get out. Go. Tell whoever the hell sent you here that I won’t take so kindly to this again.” 

The hob does not waste even a second in making good on their second chance. It scrambles up and away in a scramble of furious legs and arms. 

Beomgyu shakes his head and goes to retreat off to wherever he spends a majority of his time, now that the show is over.  

Taehyun, looking disconcerted with his arms folded and brows lifted, says, “Somebody is sending their people here, and now I’ve set a precedent. I look weak. Those wolves will pounce on any stretch of weakness they can find.” 

You sigh. “I know,” you say. “I know, Taehyun. Thank you.” You don’t tell him that the wolf he speaks of is Yeonjun, and that the spy was not here to kill or collect intellect from him.  

It seems that the prince has made his move. 

❆

“You think that was the end of it?” Beomgyu says. “No. That was nothing beyond a glimpse. A life spent beside his blood-drinking father is undeniable. How the gentry kids learn Court snark, the Lord learned to take butchery as a trophy.” 

Shooting him a glare, you slot the arrow in its home and pull the bowstring taut. It comes much easier, now. Your chest doesn’t tremble, and you can properly hold it there comfortably enough to actually aim. Finding the bullseye of woven straw, you narrow your eyes down. You find the center of the spiral, further down the field now that you’ve gotten a better handle on your archery. Like Taehyun had said, you aim a little left to make room for wind direction. You release a slow breath in a smooth, silver stream of breath. Wind whistles around the arrow as it dances down the flat of powdery snow. It pierces the center left with a far-off thud. Not a bullseye, but you’re glad to meet your mark.  

You reach for another arrow. “Or,” you say, “Growing up with his father taught him to be a better man for it.” 

The kelpie, having watched you practice out here for at least thirty minutes, looks up to you from where he sits squatted on the ground. “You don’t believe that,” he scoffs. He drags a finger in the snow. The ground around him is a work of muddy shapes, where he’s worked the snow so much that the wet ground beneath it has begun turning it to brown slush. “The brute is no different. Ardently as he may detest the former general, he has followed his tracks in the snow. Reluctance makes him no better.” 

Cupping your hands over your mouth, you puff out warm breaths that soothe your stinging nose and stiff fingers. It lasts only a small, gratifying moment. You puff out a sigh and take the bow back into your hands. You thought you’d gotten over this conversation, decided to determine for yourself what kind of man Taehyun is, but... When he took up his role as general, you were set back an infuriating mile. Things are even muddier, now. You know he has a reputation to keep up as general, and that he made an exception for you in letting that spy go. If he doesn’t present a strong front, it’ll put you all in danger. That doesn’t stop abrasive thoughts from sticking under your skin, though.  

“Don’t even try and act like you care about violence,” you tell him, giving him a high brow. “It’s not as if you don’t trick people and drag them down into your swamp for your own enjoyment. You just dislike Taehyun.” You bring back the string and let another arrow go. It lands somewhere near the first.  

He doesn’t deny that, a rotten smile splitting across his face.  

Your next shot lands beside the bullseye. Letting out a triumphant sound, you say, “Did you see that?” 

Beomgyu hums. “That one was good.” He stands up to full height with creaking bones and adds, “But, aren’t you getting bored of this? I say we find something more interesting to waste precious time with.” 

You frown. “More interesting...” 

He nods, enthused.  

“That sounds like a terrible idea, coming from you. Interesting is subjective, and I don’t think I’d like to learn your interpretation of it,” you say, voice sewn with suspicion. You lean your bow against the tree, though. Hitting so close to the center was enough gratification to appease you for the day. “And how can I be sure that this isn’t part of an escape plan?” 

He groans. “Let me play some, won’t you? I have a place that will please the both of us.” 

You feign long consideration, but you’ve already decided. As cold as you are, and despite your weary arms, you’re jumping at the opportunity to escape the strong walls of the estate. You’ve got a funny tingling in your veins that pleads with you to go and do something. Wherever Beomgyu may take you, you’ll just appreciate the distraction from muddled thoughts and recycling anxieties. You nod finally. “Fine. Don’t bring me anywhere weird, kelpie.” 

Though, you never know what you’re getting into, with Beomgyu. 

❆

Well, the dusted walls of a once-great residence around you are not the worst you imagined when thinking where Beomgyu might take you. 

“You told I’d me be pleased,” you say, voice bouncing off the walls and coming back to you hollow. It was the residence of some gone gentry folk, you know. Why that would be of any interest to you, you’re not sure. It’s pretty, sure. You’d fought snow and numb fingers to get here, though. You frown at him expectantly. 

“You have a sorry amount of trust in me. You would be, if you’d just open your eyes to it,” he cuts back.  

You hum. “Sure.” Raking your eyes over the baseboards, brown wood carved into leaves and acorns, and then down the still halls, you make an effort to see anything differently. Of course, it does nothing. Beomgyu speaks strangely, and he hadn’t actually meant to look differently. Despite your conclusion, you still see a stale and forgotten place. You cross your arms over your chest and say, “I get it. This was just an escape plan. And I’m gonna get your ass. Do you know how far of a walk that was?” 

“This would be a nice place to stay, if we were to forget a certain Lord’s estate...” he muses, tilting his head off to one side. “But no.” 

Looking around, your eyes catch on the film of dust on the floor down the hallway that shoots off from the tall dining hall that you stand in. More specifically, you’re concerned with the set of footsteps leading down it. Your feet tell you to dart. “Beomgyu?” you say, eyes wide as you look over to him. “Who’s here?” 

“Should we go find out?” he says, thick set of brows jumping in a playful twitch. 

He sets off down the hallway. You follow, internalizing the new surroundings with large drinks. You’re not sure why you ever thought this would end with him taking you out to the forest to watch will-o'-the-wisps dance in twinkling balls of light, or going to watch a babbling brook work its way over the earth. 

A tall man steps out from a room. You jump, pulling Beomgyu back, as if he weren’t some ancient faerie beast capable of managing himself. He cracks a laugh. The man looks between you two. Your tongue darts out to wet dry lips. He’s no doubt wondering who you are, just the same as you’re wondering who he is. You whisper to your cavorting heart that Beomgyu is magically compelled to not shove you into harm’s way, and it seems that he knows who this is. 

You notice the man’s round ears, and his soft and humble features, and the earthliness, and the imperfection-flecked skin. Familiarity bursts in your chest—you’re looking into the face of another human. “Who is this?” you whisper over to Beomgyu. 

“This is Soobin,” he announces, answering your whisperings with his full chest. “A friend, and a human, as I think you’ve noticed.” A proud gleam flashes over his eyes. “I believe that you owe me your thanks now.” 

The man, Soobin, dips his head at you. Dull, brown eyes study you. “I am,” he says. 

Searching for words, you open and close your mouth a few times. A nervous thrill wraps you up. You’ve wanted to get to know and be friends with your kind for your entire life. “Why are you here?” you ask, making a gesture at the residence. “It looks abandoned. Very abandoned.” When you’d first arrived at Taehyun’s estate, it’d been left alone for quite a while in Taehyun’s leaving it behind. This, though, looks much different than that. You wonder who this place belonged to, and why it’s no longer in use. 

Sullen eyes answer yours. They remind you of Beomgyu’s, the old tiredness. It’s strange, seeing that look reflected on such a young face. How does Beomgyu known him, anyway? Soobin answers, “I was a glamoured servant here. Until the faerie died.” He continues talking as he returns to the room from which he’d come from. This room, off and away from the massive inner hall that makes up the majority of the residence, is fresher. Where dust balls and had taken over what was once most definitely a place busy with servants and the host of many feasts, this room is alive and no doubt where Soobin lives. “Then, the glamour died, and I came back to myself.” He sits down onto a foot bench in front of a green-sheeted bed. This must’ve been bedroom for the faerie he’d served. Now, it’s his. He brings his hands up. Where the soft skin of an easy life should sit, there’s worn and ruined skin in its place. “I wasn’t conscious when I’d been working it, but when I came back... my body ached. It ached so bad, and at first, I had no idea why or... where I was. All I knew was that I’d been worked into the ground.” 

Your heart hangs like stone in your chest, looking at his broken hands. When you’d been taken from the human world, you’d been so young that it made no difference to you. Growing up here, it’s all you’ve ever known. Not every human is brought here how you had been, though. Some are snatched up from their adult lives; fallen to some faerie trick hidden in plain sight. Slip up, and you’re stolen away to come do work in this wretched realm. You don’t know what’s worse: what happened to you, being raised here and molded into a meaningless servant, or that. The faerie had stolen time from his life that he will never get back—and he remembers none of it. Glamoured servants had always stricken a gut-wrenching sick feeling in you, whenever you’d seen them. With gone eyes and hollowed out cheeks, they’d look right through you like mist and continue on with their prescribed duties. Like a husk of a living being. 

Even now, Soobin’s body tells the story of the taxation. This faerie must’ve seen humans as cattle. “Why stay here?” you ask, making a seat out of a sofa along the wall. The cushions accept your shape graciously; made affable by time and use. Beomgyu trades the cushioned seat for the floor in front of your crisscrossed legs. He lolls his head back, coarse hair tickling at your skin. 

Beomgyu answers. “Because he has no place else to go, and his awful stubbornness keeps him here. There are no rides back to the human world, if you’re not willing to give something away for it.” 

Soobin, looking more annoyed than genuinely angry with Beomgyu’s words, says, “I’m not going to give your kind any more of me than I was already forced to. I’ll find a way. Eventually.” 

Eventually. The word is heavy coming out from his mouth, falling out like a dud; not even he believes it. “How long have you been here?” 

“I... don’t know.” He shifts, watching the flooring rather than looking at the two of you as he speaks. “Since I was taken here? I have no idea. I don’t remember a lick of it. But from what I do remember, long. Centuries, maybe.” 

Your fingers, raking paths through the tangles in Beomgyu’s hair, freeze. Looking up at him, you tilt your head. It sounds like it should be a hyperbole, an overdramatization to describe what feels like an eternity spent here in this old place. But he doesn’t deliver it as such. No, his voice doesn’t joke at all—his eyes stare hard and lack the light of life. “What?” you say. Your voice crackles with a confused flare. “What do you mean, centuries?” 

“He means that he’s been making this his home for centuries,” Beomgyu says. 

“No,” you say, willing your glare to burn holes through the back of his head below you. Of course, he doesn’t stir or notice at all. “I mean, that’s not possible. We don’t live that long.” Nonetheless, he looks no older than you. Anything above twenty years is no less unbelievable than centuries.  

“You don’t?” Beomgyu says. You hear the patronizing smile through his words. “I have known him long. And yet, he lives... How strange is that?” 

You deliver a punishing shove at the back of his head. “You know what I meant, idiot.” 

Simpering, he says back to you from over his shoulder, “You’re not so much the sweet girl I remember meeting. Spend enough of your time here, and even the human’s body slows. The makeup of his human flesh has not aged for quite some time. Neither will yours.” 

A lifetime spent dreading how fast your life will dwindle away comes crashing down over you. You blink hard at the impact. You’d been haunted; followed around by the dark and heavy promise of a soon death, of deteriorating joints and a forgettable name. That had all been in vain? The enormity of that realization... it comes overhead like dark and swirling water, sucking you down where no amount of kicking or thrashing will clear a way. It swallows you. A bitter anger kindles down in the depths from which that fear had nestled itself. So, Nut-hatch had made the very conscious decision to lead you to believe otherwise. 

“You’ve reached maturity, and you will stay this way for until you leave Faerie. The years will begin coming to you, as long as you remain there; where time flows differently through the veins,” Beomgyu continues. “He only wishes to spend his blessing of time decaying away here.” 

The two of them begin talking back and forth about whatever it is that Beomgyu says, but a loud silence like fog in your head has their words more like background noise. You’d lived for so, so long thinking that you were running out of time. The tick of a terrible clock sounded off in the distance in a haunting echo in everything you ever did. It’s why you ever rallied the nerve to up and leave the life you’d been dragged into. You’d been so scared of wasting what little life you had—fear welled up high and told you that time was running out to do it. Would you have ever even left, if you’d not thought yourself so rushed? Your face feels hot. 

Soobin saying your name, loud and questioning, draws you out just enough to hear him say, “How did you get tricked?” 

You swallow and clear your throat, sitting up straighter. “What do you mean?” you ask, mental inertia coloring your words lost. “Tricked?” Doing a re-survey of the room, you stop on the windows. Day has begun weaning off into the gray of eventide.  

“How did you end up as a servant, I mean,” he elaborates. 

“Oh,” you say, nodding your understanding. “Sorry, I got distracted. I was taken when I was little, so I didn’t get tricked, or anything.” Nut-hatch didn’t have to trick you to bring you here like most faeries do when taking humans from their world, because you had no will. It’s the loophole in their governing nature; though they might not be able to just take humans without a promise or debt or something of that sort, they can take away the newly born. As long as they leave behind what they believe to be a replacement as payment. 

“You’re a changeling,” he says, as if realizing out loud. His eyes meet yours, dead and gone and bitter. “You should’ve killed that faerie. They all deserve it.” 

The acidic rancor there has you balking. Kill Nut-hatch? You may still harbor resentment—deep, deep gnarly gashes and crevices that you’d had to fill, and it just so happens that enmity did the job well. You understand his anger, but the thought of killing your stealer for self-gratifying revenge doesn’t make you feel good. Not in the way he suggests it should. In a sick way that only a child with a cavity in their chest where the love for a parent should be could manage, you consumed her role as your owner and digested it down into something you could cling on to. And, with chubby little desperate hands, you had. Perhaps she would spit in your face if you were to return to her now—because you’d failed to fulfill your purpose for her—you could not fathom hurting her. You pull back the sour face twitching at your muscles and say, “How do you feel about that, Beomgyu? I thought you were friends.” 

He shakes his head. “If you make senseless bets, you’re already the fool. You can’t act so surprised when you’re then asked to put on the fool’s hat and to dance,” he says, pointed derision like an arrow at Soobin.  

Whatever that means. The folk speak with adages and idioms, but Beomgyu’s verbiage is infested with it.  You scuffle down your laugh when Soobin does not share your humor. 

“How was I supposed to have thought I’d be making a bet with a faerie? Nobody even knows this shit is real, there. It’s all just folklore and scary stories. It’s not fair ground if I didn’t even know that I was doing it. And now, here I am: everybody I ever knew and loved is long, long dead.” 

His words are seething with hatred, and yet they’re barren. It’s carved him up inside, dug him out into a shell with only this awfulness left. It shakes you a bit. You’d been so eager to find another human to know or to bond with. This, though... Your brain feels rattled around in your skull. You hope to never become this.  

“So, no. We are not friends,” Soobin says. “He only comes here to enjoy my misfortune, and our kind live with the need for interaction. I tolerate it, I guess.” 

You husk out a laugh that doesn’t find your eyes. “Well, that’s not very nice, Beomgyu,” you say, stressing his name with false reprimand. “He enjoys my suffering too,” you tell Soobin. You nudge Beomgyu with your dangling leg, trying to drag the nonplussed kelpie back into the conversation to save you. 

“Of course, he does. It’s why they take us from our world: our pain is no more than like playing with a beetle to watch it struggle, and then killing it when it’s no longer fun. We’re bugs. Or, dirt. I’m sure you’ve heard that before. They love to tell us that.” 

You have. That memory is one that you prefer shoved down and compact where you can’t let it remind you what your designated role really is. You’ve been so good about ignoring it, too. With a quick glance to the windows and the dark that’s fallen outside, you say, “I think we need to go, Beomgyu. We didn’t bring any lights...” 

The kelpie drags himself up from the ground and away from the room without any sharing of pleasantries. You offer Soobin a quick goodbye and are next out of the room, feet moving like the wood flooring has gone to hot coals. 

Even in the round edges of a human face, you had not found the resonance that you’ve longed so hard for. Humans have the capacity for unshaking violence and vacant souls too, it seems. Perhaps it was never that you were looking for a human to see yourself reflected in—you’d just bloomed cloudy hopes of finding eyes that will see you clearly and deeply. Those hopes had been misplaced. 

 But, if not in another human, then who? 

❆

It’s utterly black outside—a moonless night. Kicking your restless legs out from your blankets, you stumble down the stairs. 

You can’t find sleep, even behind closed eyes. Behind your eyelids, you see Yeonjun’s storm-clouded face and you taste Taehyun on your mouth. You’re harassed by guilt cruelly, and feel the weight of your conversation with Soobin deep in your chest.  

How you end up at Taehyun’s door once again, you’re not sure. It’s a wholly inappropriate hour of the night, and you ought to have learned your lesson the last time you’d found yourself here. You don’t know why your sleepy legs lead you here. You’re better off plaguing Beomgyu with your restlessness instead. Why you’re stood here before this door... It’s beyond you. 

Though, you’ve been desperately unable to shove down the urge to stick your toes in the water and see just how icy they are. He’s pointedly avoided you, and you have no grasp on where you two are going after this. An innate feeling, settled heavy like stone in your chest, tells you that everything has changed. 

Once you’ve knocked and cracked the door open, though, a nervous tide creeps up on you. You should pivot and be back to your room. You would, if you were smart, but as Taehyun sits up with a mess of dark hair and sleep-dusted cheeks, you’re compelled by something other than your mind. It’s something strangely human, waking up in a groggy haze. The sight of sleepiness on the ever-composed Taehyun is jarring. It’s gone in only a blink, though, as he shakes it away. 

“Is something wrong?” he says. He may have brushed away the fog in his brain, but he’s powerless to the husk still weighing his voice down. It sends a strange thrill through you.  

You shake your head, throat dry. 

He frowns. “You’re having dreams again?” 

The gentle question has you pausing. It’s so out and away—so far beyond what you expect from him. Taehyun has never been one to ask around about how you’re feeling. He’d much rather skirt around such things, and pretend them away. Emotional nuance is a lost cause on him. Or, that’s what you’d thought, anyway. What’s changed? “No,” you tell him, pursing your lips. “I just... wanted to talk to you.” 

Taehyun sits more fully upright. “About what?” he says. You don’t miss how his shoulders straighten and stiffen. 

On bare feet, you shuffle over to his bed. “Nothing,” you tell him. You hadn’t exactly planned on coming here. Of course, he thinks you’ve come here to address what had happened. But... that’s not why you came here. At least, you think it isn’t. You don’t know. “Can I sit?” You gesture at the foot of his bed. He nods, eyes trained right on you. Pressing one knee into the coverlets, you climb in. 

The buzzing and hum of wind dance in the air between you. You’re not sure what to say; it’s so heavy with every single thing. It’s hard to keep things light with him, when even the silence is painted with intensity.  

You settle with just saying, “I couldn’t sleep.” 

He licks his lips, nodding. “I’d only just fallen asleep,” he says. “Always something to think about.” 

You can relate to that. The melody of a serene, content mind seems like a distant memory. “Sorry,” you say. You hadn’t meant to ruin his rest. Rigidity intrudes on the flow of conversation. You don’t remember ever being this awkward. 

He dismisses that with a shake of his head. “I’ll manage,” he says. “When I came back yesterday, you and the kelpie weren’t here. Where did you go?” 

This is exactly what had been keeping your mind awake. You had wanted to think of anything but that, but maybe talking to somebody about it will be nice. “Beomgyu took me somewhere,” you say. You laugh softly as he makes a face. “Yeah, I know. It was some old, run-down place. And there was this human there.” 

You pause, filtering through the memory. Taehyun doesn’t speak, his eyes watching you with an attentive slowness. He’s just listening. Continuing, you say, “It was weird, because... Well, we were talking, and... He was nice. It was nice, talking to another human and seeing my features on him.” 

You give a passing glance over at his ears. 

“And Beomgyu is a jerk, but I don’t think I learned that yesterday,” you say. You ramble, perhaps filling the space where the uncomfortable memory sits before you can let it bother you. It doesn’t help that the air is so quiet. Your mouth moves quick to make it less so. “But... this guy. He’s centuries old, and just lives inside that place. I’d been so excited to have someone who could understand me like that, but then he started saying stuff that made me feel... just, bad for him, I guess. He was so angry and bitter.” 

Taehyun watches you speak, and then nods. Tinged with his sleepy husk, he says, “Not everybody stays good when they live for so long. He let it rot him.” 

“Yeah. It was really like he was rotted. Not bad, I guess,” you say. “It made me worry that I’ll end up that way, someday. Even though we came here differently, I still feel that sort of anger sometimes. I don’t like it, though.” 

“I don’t think you will,” he says. 

His voice feels so strangely soft. You don’t know how to respond to this, coming from him. Long, quiet beats only decorated by the crackling of bushes scraping up and down the windows, fall over you two again. Your gazes intertwine, dancing together in a way that is also different. “Thank you,” you tell him, your voice meek. “I hope that’s true.” 

The longer you’re sat there in Taehyun’s bed, the plush warmth of it and his presence serving as some sort of scarecrow for your pestering thoughts, your eyes grow heavier and your words more useless. Here, in his room and in his presence, it’s as if those thoughts and their terrible claws cannot reach you. You prattle on to him about sleepy nothings, but he doesn’t seem to mind that you’re stealing his sleep from him. He only listens, eyes watching you melt down into something softer on the surface of his bed. 

❆

When you’d woken up this morning, you’d popped up in a frantic flurry. Instead of on your own bed, your dreary eyes were met with the walls of Taehyun’s room. You had fallen asleep in Taehyun’s bed; talked yourself into a solid sleep. You had been so thankful that he was not there when you’d been drug from your slumber by the feel of foreign bedsheets on your skin. 

Even thinking about it now, your ears glow red. Had he been annoyed? You frantically shove those thoughts away. 

There’s a thump from outside. You lean over from your spot on the bed and try to get the best look out you can manage, but it’s at an angle. You see nothing but winter’s flurries there.  

Your head drops back down to the threadbare fabric in hand. Beomgyu, after a long-winded back and forth, had relented to letting you patch up his clothes. Well, just his shirt. When he’d handed it over to you, it had been a valiant internal battle to not run off and drown the thing in soaped water. For now, you settle for just patching up the mangiest bits. It gives you something to be busy with. 

Taehyun has been especially busy lately. You’re not sure why; he doesn’t exactly go around singing about his stresses.  

This time, there’s three resounding and deliberate knocks at the pane of your window. Your working fingers come to a stop, head popping up. A nervous rattle thrums up and down your spine. It could have been a straying tree branch knocking a song with the wind’s encouragement, but they’d been so sure and pronounced. You let the shirt down and slip off the bed. Keeping your approach down to whisper, you creep toward the window. 

Yeonjun, nose gone pink, sits on a sturdy branch. 

For a moment, you stand there taking in the sight of him there; a prince of Faerie, crouched up and in a tangle of branches as he waits for you. It’s absurd. Not only that, it’s dreadful. You’ve done well, tearing yourself away from him. So, so well. Recently, all that hurt has painted its face and made itself anger. At the sight of his face, it sparks in your chest. But it’s a dull, slow flame, oh so reluctant. This anger feels different than other angers. It bothers you so deeply that you can’t place a finger on why. 

And you want to let that anger sit there and fester, hoping that it will work at eroding away your still-connected heartstrings like rot. Even through the glass of the window, you feel them—red and reinforced and tugging you toward him. 

It’s ridiculous. This is ridiculous and pathetic, letting him send you fragmented just with this. You’ve become the sort of girl that you’d snort over in sappy lover’s ballads and odes, the kind that you’d looked down on for their lack of spine. How different it is, when it comes to your turn. Despite it all, you reach out and push the windows open. Even with the sputtering flame you foster, he’s frozen and does not look like he’s going to give up just at this. If you were to pretend he wasn’t there and flop back down into the bed, you think that he might sit there brazen and let the ice freeze him from the inside out. Or, he’ll find some other way to speak with you. The glint in his eyes, the only light reflected in flatness, tells you as much. 

“This isn’t cute, or... romantic, like you think it is, Yeonjun. Not like last time. It’s just hurtful,” you tell him. 

Breath like smoke, Yeonjun says, “I don’t mean to hurt you. It kills me that I do.” His voice is sweet and smooth like malt liquor. It grips your mind in dazzling claws. 

You shake your head, staying a reasonable distance from him and the window. “You’re not supposed to be here. You have to go,” you tell him, pulling the leash to the collar you’ve put on yourself taut. “It’s icy. Climb down safe, please.” 

Of course, that doesn’t budge him. “Not supposed to be here? Why, because you don’t want it, or because he’ll be angry at you?” he says. His pretty face has gone sour. “Look at you. You’ve lost so much weight. He’s not taking care of you, pretty. Come home to me. I know you know where it is; I see the look on your face. I know that you lie to me with your words, but you were never good at hiding your face.” 

You stay rooted to your spot; you won’t be so weak to words again. No matter how sweet and soft they feel against your shining, weeping wounds. He put that hurt there. Leaning into it would just be self-destructive. 

“Please. It hurts both of us to be away, so why do it? I know that I’ve hurt you, and I’ll spend every last of my waking breath letting you know that it was a mistake. I’ll leave it all behind—none of it matters,” he continues. “Make me your servant. Ask me to swear my life away to you, and I’ll drop to my knees and put it on my beating heart right now.”  

Your throat feels dry. He’d swear himself in your service, give you the ability to control him as you will. It’s an unfathomably massive show of trust and dedication. You don’t want that, though. Not one bit. His frantic professions punch you in the gut nonetheless. Had you been losing weight? You haven’t even noticed. Yeonjun did, though—at a glance, he’d known you’ve been hurting.  

“Yeonjun, please. You’re not making this easy for me. Just give it time; we’ll get over it. Eventually, we’ll forget each other,” you say, jaw aching with protest at each heavy word. Now faced with the reality of a much, much longer life, your own words bite you. It means, though, that you have so much time to build yourself up into something solid and beautiful. And, somewhere down the road, you’ll think of this and be unaffected. Won’t that day come any sooner, though? 

“Forget each other?” he says, laugh like poison. “No, we won’t forget each other. Time doesn’t fix it. I promise you that I know that all too well. Our love is not the kind you can forget. It will just hurt forever.” 

“Go on,” you say. “Lie to me again. I want to hear it.” 

Eyes shining and unable to lie, he says, “I love you.” 

Swallowing thickly, you back away and get ready to close the window.  

He climbs in through the window in a quick move. You don’t even have time to protest it before he’s saying, “Ask anything of me. Any last thing that you want of me, but do not ask me to watch you in his arms. I will not.” 

There it is again—that dread. You want it to go easy, but of course it never was going to. “Stop it,” you say, mustering up a shaking finger to point at him. “Stop. Just go.” 

His face goes hard. “That bastard is off to a war camp. Soon. He becomes more like his father every day, doesn’t he?” His soft hands, warm and cradling, find your face. “You don’t have to punish me by being with him. Come be safe. All he’s done is throw you out in the path of danger. If he cared for you, it would have never happened.” 

Darting between his eyes, breaths come quick to you. “What?” you say. It’s the one word you can pull out from the chaos that he’s wrought onto your thoughts. A blizzard erupts, and through the whipping breeze and shards you don’t think to pull away from him or take his hands off of you. 

So, that’s why Taehyun had been busy. What does that even entail for you? Are you going to be here? Does he expect you to pack up and go there with him, to travel for a war that you don’t even care for? 

“All I ever did was protect you, pretty. I know that, in hindsight, it all seems shady. But I promise you that I did. They were never going to hurt you, and neither was I,” he says, his voice thick and strong with conviction. 

Metal rings, the sound of a quick blade being unsheathed.  

“Leave,” Taehyun snarls. He holds his sword at point, right on Yeonjun. It’s an emphatic promise of what he’s capable of and what he’ll do. 

Flame, wild and melting you around the edges, eats up every last bit of oxygen in the room. It leaves none for you to breathe. It crackles and pops between them, where their gazes meet and feed it. Everything else has gone still. Even the wind, it seems.  

Sword held fast and unmoving, Taehyun says, “You send your people into my home, and now you sneak in yourself. I won’t be walked over. Leave now, or you waste my courtesy.” 

So, he’d come to that conclusion as well. He’s so still—his face carved of ice into sharp edges.  

When Yeonjun sends a look your way, you shake your head at him. You have no clue what he’s thinking, but you want none of it. Your stomach does a violent flip. “Yeonjun, go. I want you to go. Please.” 

His features lined with flame; he looks from you to Taehyun. “Your violence will be the fall of you,” he says, jaw tight as he pushes out toward your door. Not without a final glance sent to you, though. The promise you see there is a dreadful one. 

You refuse to meet Taehyun’s daggered look. Beomgyu’s shirt lays forgotten on your bed. You’re half tempted to grab it and resume work; to continue on and escape this. 

“That didn’t take very fucking long, did it?” he says. “Right back into his arms.” 

Your drag your hands down your face. “I didn’t tell him to come here,” you snap. “It’s none of your business who I talk to. How about we talk about you leaving? When did you plan on telling me, huh? I don’t like secrets, Taehyun.” 

Taehyun slips his sword back into the sheath. It clicks back in place. “None of my business?” he says. He repeats the words back at you with an asp’s curl. “When he’s in my home, in your room, it’s my business.” 

“Would you stop?” you say, exhaustion sputtering out your fight. “With Yeonjun, I always know what’s going on. With you? I don’t know what to expect,” you say. “Tell me. When were you going to tell me that you’re going?” 

His face morphs into something different: one of those bone-chilling ones that you don’t know how to explain. He doesn’t answer for a few beats; you can see his mind turning itself over. “This was going to happen. I told you that,” he says. “And I was going to tell you.” 

You let out a long sigh, your shoulders loosening with it, when this time his voice isn’t so venomous. He’d been so busy lately. Being general assured that, especially now that things are moving. “When? How long will you be gone?” you say. “What if something happens to you, Taehyun? What are Beomgyu and I supposed to do?” You include Beomgyu in your proposition, but you’re not sure whether he’d stay with you or run off into the tree line the moment he finds he’s free. Then, really, who would you have? 

“You’ll be there,” he says. “You can come. I prefer it. If you stay here, you’re vulnerable to attacks. This estate is known to be mine, and now that I’ve become the general... I can’t say that it’s safe.” He’s come so close that now his eyes look down on you. They don’t feel acidic on your skin. “And nothing will happen to me. I promise it, nothing will happen to me or you. Or that kelpie. I’ll win this war.” 

Around a thick swallow, you nod.  

You don’t doubt that Taehyun has the skill or the wits to do so. You only can hope that he doesn’t destroy himself trying to prove it; to both you and himself. 

…🪶 ashlynn's note i know, i know. we made big moves this chapter. AHHHH! taehyun…… taehyun…..

﹙🏷️ ﹚ @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[txtmetonight]

I know I love you ✆

call summary ⋆ ★ when a moment of realization flashes–and they know that they love you to the fullest of their heart

pairing *. * Ot5 TXT x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Fluff, slight angst in hyuka's

warnings *. Insecurities in hyuka's, bad grammar (semi-checked)

call duration⋆ ★ 2.6k

a/n*. * This was so fun to write lololol. also idk if anyone has actually noticed, but i'm slowly changing my format hehehe

taglist ⋆ ★ @kflixnet

Yeonjun’s eyes seem to blur, but he supposes that's because the practice room he currently resides in is starting to get to him, like he's hearing voices. The mirror in front of him is dusty, and it's quite a sad sight when he looks at himself—hair disheveled and messy, with his cheeks bitten red like a tomato. It's past midnight, and he knows he should be home, but he can’t find the heart to get up and leave.

The dance isn’t perfect, not to his liking, and it kills him inside as his feet get sloppy and arms start to flail in a nonsensical manner. His legs ache with strenuous pain, but he gets up one more time. Just once more, he promises himself.

Yeonjun knows very well that his words mean nothing but a lie. It’s a never-ending loop that he can’t free himself from. He forces himself up, and his fingers flinch to turn on the speaker. He's hovering over the button, but he can’t seem to move it away.

The clock reads 12:34 when he gets a shrill ring—it scares him half to death. Yeonjun stalks over to his phone and picks it up with a slight interest. It’s you, he realizes, and he doesn’t waste a moment's second to pick up the call.

“Choi Yeonjun, where are you?!”

He chuckles into the receiver. You're amusing, and his eyes crinkle. “Still at practice…” Yeonjun could almost see your grimace on the other side.

You sigh, “Are…are any of the boys with you? Or are you overworking yourself again?”

Choi Yeonjun looks at the empty practice room. He wonders if he should just fib, but for some reason, you've always been good at spotting his lies. You call it your girlfriend instincts; Yeonjun thinks it's pure bullshit. “

The latter,” he finally responds.

You go silent on the call at his words, and he pulls back his phone to make sure the line hasn't cut. It didn’t, so he just stares at your contact photo with a smile. You’re very pretty. But your next blabber is definitely not.

“Choi fucking Yeonjun! You better get your ass back home before I leave you to the streets! Do you hear me?! I am not letting you pass out again! By the time it turns one, you better be here, or I’m stuffing you into our next meal.”

This time you actually cut the call. Yeonjun knows the meaning of your threats and isn’t one to test them, so he hurriedly packs his duffel bag before he locks the door. And as he does, he knows that he’s so unequivocally in love with you—it hurts in a good way.

Choi Yeonjun realizes two things that night. First, you’re entirely scary in your way. And second, he wants to spend the rest of his lifetime and many more lives beyond that with you.

"You’re nowhere in sight. It’s quite unusual – really. Normally, you'd be situated on the couch, scrolling through your phone or reading a book, but for some reason, you aren’t there. Soobin carefully shuts the door and quickly comes to the conclusion of your disappearance; you’ve gone to sleep.

Honestly, he doesn’t blame you. He came home a little late from vocal practice and was tired himself. All he longs to do is cuddle up to your side, preferably forever. Yet he knew from his upcoming schedules that it was going to be a while before he gets his proper break with you.

Still, he smiles at the thought of it. He lets his feet round the corner to the kitchen where he grabs a quick drink of water before making his way to your shared bedroom. Soobin’s arms feel heavy, and his throat is scratchy from all the singing exercises earlier today. All he craves are the warm blankets, but he’s abruptly stopped in his daydreaming about sleep as his hand grasps the doorknob.

“The audacity of this girl!”

You’re not sleeping as he thought you were. And you’re cursing someone out – how interesting. Slowly as ever, Soobin opens the door to find you on your stomach with a computer right in your face, aggressively typing something on the keyboard. Your eyes are so focused on the screen that you don’t notice your boyfriend enter the room!

Taking advantage of your obliviousness, Soobin carefully toes his way to where you lie, just peeking over to see what got you in a twist.

Surprisingly enough, you’re writing a document-sized paragraph on Twitter. It’s filled with cruel words and language that he’s sure don’t comply with the app’s guidelines. He’s now filled with even more wonder.

“Hey honey… what are you doing?” he asks. You jump in your bed, accidentally smashing a couple of keys. Your eyes widen, and you punch a laughing Soobin. “What the hell! How long have you been there?”

He shrugs and takes off his jacket. “Long enough to question who you were bullying.”

You suddenly grow pink. “No… one?”

“Really?” Both of you know that he doesn’t buy the lie you try to feed him. So, you exhale in defeat and timidly stare at your fingers drumming against the computer pad. “Well, I dunno. Some girl was sending a hate train towards you, and I was just defending… your… name. I guess.” You grow quiet at the end, but it was loud enough for the boy to hear.

The silence in the air is loud, but before you could bury yourself in embarrassment in a heap of pillows nearby, Soobin bends to place a kiss on your cheek. He feels like he’s about to pass out, and as his stomach churns with its rollercoaster of emotions, he can’t help but feel an overwhelming feeling of love for you.

It expands in his heart and into his touch as he kisses you again – this time on your lips. He doesn’t know why, but his breathing starts to stutter when you kiss him once more, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt this time.

He relishes the warm feeling before his fingers slide to where your keyboard was pushed to the side. He presses post, and your giddy grin is all it takes for him to kiss your lips again, his hands cupping your face. Choi Soobin thinks that he’s stuck in a pool of undying love – but he’d rather drown than live if his heart wasn’t for you to kiss."

The house is quiet. Except for the quiet chatter of the TV and the slight hums of your voice, as you thread through Beomgyu’s hair.

It's gentle when your fingers softly scratch his scalp, and he feels himself falling into a state of relaxation, his heart thrumming vividly in his chest. Your legs swing next to him where he sits on the ground, playfully poking at his thighs in a comical tease, and you place loving kisses on his head, so tiny and feather-like that he must strain to feel them.

Yet, it makes him feel full and content, so much so that he's undoubtedly about to burst. Soon enough, a scene on the drama you two have been binging—filled with emotions—suddenly causes you to pause the show with a slight furrow in your brow. He looks at you curiously but knows exactly what you're going to say.

And he couldn’t be happier to indulge.

“Oh, that’s so stupid! Who in—what?!” you complain to him. Beomgyu doesn’t say anything but giggles at you. You’re entirely entertaining and quite endearing. As you rant and rant, Beomgyu notices that the strain in his jaw from earlier in the day—which he quickly attributes to being the loud one in the group, the mood maker—was slowly lessening. He could finally smile properly without such a painful toothache. So, he grins at you. You grin back, and it sends butterflies coursing down his throat.

Beomgyu also realizes that he hasn’t spoken once this evening. Yet he hangs onto every word you say, every little movement, every little quirk, and comes to the realization that you don’t expect him to chatter. You really don’t. And that’s what he supposes he really loves about you; that your words make up for his in the silence of times, and you don’t wait for him to do the same, for you know that he cannot.

Choi Beomgyu is a silent motor who dwells in the words of your love, where he will reside forever on.

Taehyun can’t help but glance at his phone, and it’s becoming increasingly frequent as time passes by. He tries not to let it interfere with his dance practice, but he really couldn’t help it. It’s like a magnet, drawing him in.

His friends notice, but they don’t say anything at first; they merely observe his odd behavior. But soon enough, their silence couldn’t be held anymore. Soobin breaks first.

“Is there something wrong with your phone?” he asks, pointing at the device that sits in a chair, right near where Taehyun has wiggled himself too. The boy in question perks up, his eyes flitting around the room, landing on each member before he turns back to Soobin.

“No,” he responds. Beomgyu scoffs at his obvious lying and points his arm at Taehyun’s phone. “Then why do you—” He then turns two fingers around and prods just in front of his eyes. “Keep looking at your phone!”

No one but Kai notices the tinge of red that flourishes on Taehyun’s ears, but his bashfulness could definitely be detected from the flustered smile that he delivers. “I don’t know what you guys mean.” Sure, he does. He was actually waiting for your daily afternoon text that you have yet to send.

Taehyun’s eyebrows furrow before he picks up his phone and scrolls onto your contact. The others sigh at his expense and leave him alone—most have an inkling about his unwarranted distraction, but Taehyun pays no mind to them. He’s on a very important mission.

Swift fingers dance across his keyboard before he shoots a very quick message. Taehyun’s very concerned by your lack of presence today, and his words are direct enough to show it.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Seconds later, several bubble pop up onto his screen. They seem to have a staring contest with Taehyun.

"Yeah. Open the door of your practice room. Kinda have my hands full :))"

The boy doesn’t hesitate to jog to the other end of the room and swing open the said door, to where, behold, you stand, with a great big smile and five plastic bags in hand. The sudden smell of food wafts through the area; and Taehyun doesn’t realize how hungry he really is.

You can tell too; you’d always had him figured out, however far you were from the love of your life. But he can’t stop staring at you until the boys come through and push him away. He guesses that they’ve smelled it too.

“Surprise! I figured that you guys could all take a break and eat lunch.” You press a chaste kiss to Taehyun’s cheek and push past him to put all of the stuff down. The other four boys rampage over to their own bags, screaming their thanks.

You just chuckle, but it slowly diminishes into a sweet smile when you find Taehyun still by the door. His eyes glow when they meet yours, and you gesture to sit next to you. “I love you,” he mouths. He decides that the way your cheeks puff and get red, or the way your lips curl, is what he wants to see in heaven. Or perhaps he’s already there.

It’s the small things, he supposes. The way you care. Like when you pour Beomgyu a drink and give Taehyun and Yeonjun your own food, insisting that you were going to shove it down their throats if they didn’t take it. Or when you ruffle Hyuka’s hair and adjust Soobin’s collar.

Later that day, Yeonjun carries thoughts. Thoughts that he whispers to Taehyun with a jolly grin after you leave on your merry way. “You better not lose her. I’ll kick you off the group if you do.”

Kang Taehyun has never believed in soulmates until you came along and stole his heart.

It’s another one of those days. Where light usually shone, it was covered in bleak clouds, ones that Kai couldn’t escape from however hard he tried. He’s stuck in forever darkness that seems to consume him whole, eating away at his heart.

The pain is unbearable; it brings forth a few tears from his eyes. They feel like acid against his skin, and he wishes to be free from the pain of his insecurities. His hair flops in front of him, and one could assume that he uses it like a mask, hiding himself away until only a shell remains.

Kai doesn’t like looking in the mirror – he has known that from the moment such dark weather clouded his sight. And so, his reflection is slashed, covered in blood he has never asked for. It’s quite horrible when it's about himself. Then it gets worse when it extends to his bandmates – his platonic soulmates.

And finally, when his wobbly thoughts traverse your way, his stomach aches, and his heart falls apart into puzzle pieces that cannot fit. He greatly wonders how you can even put up with him and his miserable attire. Kai thinks that he’s tired of himself – but why aren’t you? As a solution to his problems, he has holed himself in his room, but you have a different answer to his questions.

You give three swift knocks on the door, each loud and firm, before you unlock the door and enter. Kai doesn’t dare to look you in the eye, but he feels your glowing stare on him. He doesn’t know what to do but weakly rejects your advance.

“Just… just leave me alone,” he says.

You don’t respond. He tries again. “(Y/n), seriously! Please!”

This time, your strides stop. And nothing more. Kai questions if you’ve melted to the ground, but alas, you have not when you sigh and exclaim.

“I would, but our son misses you!” Pause. What? Kai shoots his head up, in a query that shoots confusion down his spine. Yet he feels that tinge of a chuckle in the back of his throat. How do you do that to him so easily? When he stares up at you, your hands are behind your back, and you’re pouting. He decides to ask his question.

“What are you talking about…?”

You grin at him and swing your arms forward to reveal a tiny penguin plushie. “Our son, of course! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about him?!” Kai shakes his head. “No, of course not.”

This 'son' of his was actually a prize that was won from an arcade game. You’ve officially adopted him ever since. “Well… he told me that he really misses you.”

You take a step forward and lean down towards him. Your eyes observe his face, and they take in the expanse of his beauty. He wishes to cower away, but you don’t let him as you take your son’s tiny flappy fins and put it on your boyfriend’s face.

“We hate seeing you cry, my pretty boy,” you say as you wipe away his tears with the soft fabric. They soothe his burns. At last, you put the plushie away next to him and lean a little closer, just where his heartbeat resides on his neck. It beats with yours.

“I love you.” You kiss his heart.

Huening Kai thinks that you’ve just mended his puzzle-piece heart into such a beautiful picture of his irrevocable love for you – bigger and more stunning than any masterpiece created on this cruel earth. And you deserve much more.

[gugugyuu]

dreaming oneshot ⋆𐙚₊🧸ྀི˚⊹♡

Class president duties had always been your excuse to interact with Beomgyu. You told yourself it was harmless to indulge him, even if you knew he was just using you.

"Class Pres~" you heard Beomgyu's sing-song voice rang out as he slid into the seat next to you. You hated how much your heart raced every time he looked at you like that.

"Did you finish that history assignment? You know I've been so busy..." he said, leaning closer until you could feel his breath tickling your ear.

"You just don't want to do it," you continued, cheeks warming.

He grinned, unashamed. "But I know you'll help me out. You're the best, aren't you?" He didn't even wait for your answer, just dropped his notebook onto your desk and stretched out with a sigh.

You bit your lip. The right thing to do would've been to refuse him. Make him do it himself for once. You knew he wouldn't stay long if you did and you don't want him to leave.

Beomgyu had a way of blurring boundaries, he'll sometimes make you feel like you were special until reality reminded you otherwise. "Here," you said, sliding his now-completed assignment back to him. He didn't even glance at the pages, just smiled.

"Thanks," he said, reaching out to flick a strand of hair off your face. "What would I do without you?"

You froze as his thumb brushed your cheek. Then quickly, he withdrew, leaving you blinking in the wake of his touch.

When lunch break came, and like always, you found yourself walking towards Beomgyu's desk with an extra bento box in hand.

"You spoil me too much," he teased, you were embarrassed but the way his eyes lit up when he opened the lid made it all worth it.

Out of nowhere, he leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. "Thanks, Class Pres," he said.

You wanted to say something but all you could do is smile.

Later, your excitement during end of class quickly faded when you spotted Beomgyu across the room. There he was, leaning casually against the desk, laughing as he flirted with another girl.

"Hey, Class Pres-" Beomgyu paused when noticed your glare, he saw your eyes shimmering with hurt. You turned and stormed away, leaving him speechless.

Confused, he excused himself from the girl and jogged after you, his long legs catches up in moments. "Hey!" he called, grabbing your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

You stopped then shrugged off his hands, spinning to face him with an attitude he hadn't seen before. "Don't talk to me anymore," you said with your voice shaking. "I'm done with you, Beomgyu."

He froze. "Don't do that," his tone dropping. Something about your expression made him uneasy. "Pres?"

Tears flooded your eyes and Beomgyu's guilt deepened as he realized he must have hurt you. "Aww, come on," he said, panic creeping into his voice and before you could move, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a loose hug. His hand awkwardly patted your head "I'll stop flirting with others, okay?"

You pushed his chest, pulling away enough to meet his eyes. "Really?"

Beomgyu felt a lump in his throat. "This girl..." He sighed, looking off to the side before nodding reluctantly. "Yeah, I guess." he said, though his voice wavered. "But uh, you can't stop helping me with schoolwork, okay?"

"About that," you said, voice firm. "I'm still not doing it anymore. You'll have to learn and do it yourself."

"What?" he groaned, his jaw dropping. "Seriously?"

"I'm not joking," you replied, your expression showed determination.

Beomgyu blinked at you, the shift in your demeanor catching him off guard. He let out a dramatic sigh, ruffling his hair. "Okay, fine. But then you'll have to teach me at my place."

He expected you to argue or protest but to his surprise, you agreed almost immediately, "Fine!"

Beomgyu stood there, utterly bewildered. His lips parted as if to call out to you, but no words came. "Sheesh," he said to himself, shaking his head as he watched you go, feeling like he had just been played.

At his house, Beomgyu was focused on his writing when he noticed you shifting uncomfortably beside him.

Your hand played with the edge of his sleeve, your fingers lightly brushing against his skin. Beomgyu watched you half confused and half amused.

“What are you doing?” he asked though he made no move to stop you.

You blinked when you met his gaze, "Sorry." then slowly you withdrew your hand.

He only smiled and reached out, gently taking your hand and placing it back where it had been. “I didn’t say you had to stop.”

Then after a moment, he saw you tugging at the collar of your uniform trying to fan yourself, your hair damp with sweat, cheeks bright red, and lips slightly parted as if you couldn't get enough air.

The room wasn't even hot.

"Do you want me to turn down the temperature even more?" he asked with hesitation.

You moved your hair to the side, exposing the glistening skin of your neck. The sight sent a strange jolt through Beomgyu, but worry quickly overtook it as he noticed how heavy your breaths had become. His heart became nervous at the way you're looking at him right now.

You pushed yourself up from the chair and collapsed onto the couch across the room. Groaning softly as you covered your face with your hands, embarrassment evident in your posture.

Beomgyu stood up scratching the back of his head, utterly confused and now beginning to think you're being a pain in the ass. He made his way over and sat beside you cautiously. "Do you have a fever or something?" he asked, leaning slightly closer to check you.

"No," you replied with muffled voice behind your hands.

"Then... what's wrong?"

Your hands dropped suddenly, and turned to look at him, "I'm so horny," you blurted out, voice full of desperation.

Beomgyu froze. His jaw slightly opened, barely able to form a coherent thought, let alone words. "Wha- what?", he stuttered.

You leaned forward, staring intensely. "Do you think you can fuck me right now?"

Beomgyu swallowed hard. The room spinning for a moment as your words settled in. He wasn't sure if he'd heard you right, trying to process whether you were serious or if his mind was playing tricks on him.

"Wait... what?" he asked again as he leaned closer.

"I said what I said, Beomgyu,” you whispered, your cheeks burning but your voice steady. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He quickly leaned back against the couch, his eyes fixed on you as you moved on top of him.

"No kissing." you said as you stopped him.

"What?!"

You smirked, leaning down to trail wet kisses along his neck. The soft sound of your lips against his skin filled the room, enough to make him gasp. Beomgyu's head tipped back, moan slipping from his lips as his eyes fluttered shut.

His hands found your thighs, caressing it, sending shivers through your spine. He started to squeeze your ass as you grind against him, every friction drew a strangled groan from him.

Each roll of your hips drew another desperate sound. The half gasp, half moan as his hardened dick strained against the fabric of his shorts. The room was filled with the symphony of heavy pants, muffled groans, and the rhythm of your movements, every sound amplifying the moment. "God," he said breathlessly with his rough and low voice. "Don't stop."

You were driving him wild and he was absolutely loving every second of it.

Beomgyu wanted to take his time and eat you, but as soon as he felt how wet you were, he couldn't wait any longer to enter your swollen cunt. "Are you sure?" he asked, cupping your face with one hand while his other hand stroking himself.

"Hurry, please," you begged, your voice shaky with anticipation.

He buried his face at your neck. Both of you groaned in unison as soon as you felt the overwhelming sensation when he entered his dick inside you. The stretch hurts but it felt good at the same time. Loud moan escaped your lips, gasping "Oh, my god."

Never in Beomgyu's wildest dreams imagined fucking the shit out of you. Who would've thought you're this pleasant view on top of him? He thought, liking his class president even more right now.

His mouth open as he moans against your lips but still not touching them, although one small move from you would allow a kiss. Beomgyu knew that after this, he was done asking you for school stuff because next time, he's going to ask you for something even better.

Your forehead pressed against his, his dick sliding easily in and out of your tight pussy. He's taking in the pleasure of seeing how much you're enjoying it. "I'm soo close," he whispered in your ear. You dropped to your knees and he pleasured himself, releasing all his cum into your waiting mouth.

He cupped your face again with his hands, watching you swallow his cum. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "You're a freak." he leaned in closer, you pushed him back slightly.

"I said no kissing."

Beomgyu rolled his eyes in annoyance, his gaze followed you as you walked completely naked in his living room, pouring water into the glass. And despite his fatigue, he craved your closeness. So he stood up, creeping behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and planting soft kisses on your nape.

"Damn...you're getting me hard again."

He carefully inserted his cock back inside your overly sensitive, beaten cunt. Pounding so hard while his hand tugging at your hair, the other is wrapped around your neck. His dick harder it has ever been.

You tapped his arms, signaling him to stop. "I think I'm going to pee," you admitted, attempting to break free from his grip when you the felt pressure building inside you.

"No, you're not." he growled, his mouth descending upon your neck, biting and sucking with passion.

See, he knew you would take him so well. You always do and you always will.

Beomgyu can't help but to feel a surge of pride as he watches, totally convinced that at this moment, he might just lock you inside his house.

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