#exo god au

[stainandscribble]

Our Love is a Tempest

Pairing: Junmyeon X OC(female)

Genre: Junmyeon God AU; Soulmate AU; angst; fluff; one shot; junmyeon-centric?

Summary: Junmyeon was the God of the Sea, in charge of water, the god of storms and earthquakes. He was prone to anger, like the rest of his creed, and he could be cruel too, but Junmyeon was also a Guardian, who protected his brothers, who knew love towards his family. He also knew guilt, and maybe it was a mortal who would teach him forgiveness and moving on. Fate could be cruel, he knew that, but he would also learn that fate could be kind. 

 Warning: Mentions of death/drowning (OC is a mortician/undertaker)

A/N: This is inspired in part by Shakespeare's Sonnet 116. In the same universe as HONEY (EXO Yixing) and Flower (SVT Wonwoo).  It had been a while, but I’m back! :)  Let me know if you want a part 2 

Word Count: 13.8k

Aeons had passed since Junmyeon and his ten brothers came into being. Their predecessors were ancient Gods, jealous, violent and unforgiving. On Earth, they had been named the Titans by the ancient Greeks, and that was as close to the truth as they got. Yixing never revealed the full truth of their reign and their demise to his poets and his oracles. As the God of Oracles and the Arts he was tasked with keeping Junmyeon and the rest a mystery so that the full extent of their powers remained unknown. They never wanted to be worshipped, not the way the Titans had been, with blood and violence and fear in the hearts of mortals. Gods were often cruel, but they were not evil. Humans had named him Poseidon, Neptune, Morskoi, Aegir. All false names, ones they could comprehend and understand. His brothers hailed him Suho, The Guardian, one who watched over them and protected them. He was the strongest God among the eleven, but the mortals didn’t know that, and they would never find out.

It had been centuries since Junmyeon stepped onto Earth or muddled personally in human affairs, and he wished his brothers would follow suit. Fate, it seemed, had different plans for them. Gods needed love, the Fates had told him as they tied knots into the golden thread of life that belonged to Jongdae, the God of Thunder. His brother, although smaller in stature than some of the others, was quick to anger like the rest of them. Gods took time to learn, and it was time that Jongdae learned what love was.

Junmyeon remembered coming from the Sea to Olympus, to find the sky black and loud, thunder rumbled and lightning flashed above him. He could feel Jongdae’s fury, one that was unrivalled by any other God. He felt the same fury in his heart. How dare the Fates choose for them, how dare they tie their life lines as if they were mortal?

The three Fates had called them to Olympus as witnesses.

“Gods take time to learn.” The youngest of the three had spoken, looking directly into Junmyeon’s dark eyes, filled with fury, deep like the oceans over which he resided.

“Learn to love.” The middle Fate spoke, her gentle motherly hand grasped Jongdae’s. In slow motion, Junmyeon watched his brother fall to his knees, the King of the Sky reduced to a kneeling terrified man. Junmyeon would never forget the look in Jongdae’s eyes, the terror that fell over him and silenced the sky and quietened the rage was etched into his memory forever.

“Your time has started.” The oldest crone had croaked out, her hands pulling the knot tight, so that it would never be undone.

That was how their fate was sealed, starting with their most volatile brother.

Now, hundreds of years later, he was handing a golden ring, almost the same he had given Jongdae, to Yixing. His brothers watched, surprise filled their gazes as Yixing curled his hand around the little golden band, forged down below in the depths of the Sea. Yixing had learned too. Warmth had replaced rage, and the sun shone a little brighter over Olympus. None of his brothers could tell, but Junmyeon felt lighter, as if a weight lifted off his shoulders, as if he could breathe a little more air. His brother was happy, and Junmyeon could never fault him for that.

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Olympus was a fortress built of white marble, a castle hidden from mortal eyes within the clouds, often shrouded in storms. Above it the vastness of the universe spread into infinities as an intricate dance of light and colour, a composition more beautiful than anything on earth, incomprehensible even to the Gods that called Olympus their home.

Baekhyun and Jongdae stood on top of the fortress walls, gazing at the sky as it turned dark with nightfall. Although Jongdae saw nothing but the sky, he waited patiently for his brother. Baekhyun was entranced, unable to keep his eyes away from whatever scenario he was currently witnessing in his mind. The God of Love often stood gazing at nothing, his presence far away from his form, looking down at the fates of mortals, overseeing falling in love as was his duty.

“Who do you see?” Jongdae asked, leaning against the white marble edge as his eyes scanned the sky, watching as moonlight broke through the thick blankets of clouds that surrounded them. His fingers played with his wedding ring, the one that Junmyeon gave to him when he received their blessing and married his wife.

“Junmyeon.” Baekhyun’s voice was a whisper, but it was loud enough for Jongdae to hear and the name had sent a chill up his spine. He recognised that feeling as fear. His hands ceased their motions and he turned to look at the God of Love.

“What?” Jongdae’s eyes were filled with fear, the same fear that Junmyeon had witnessed in his own centuries ago, when the Fates had made them all watch as they tied knots in the golden string of his fate.

“Junmyeon will learn.” Baekhyun spoke, his voice sure now, steady. His gaze had locked with his brother’s and when their dark eyes met, thunder began raging on Olympus, the same kind that raged during the first Tying.

“He will love a mortal? Give up his rage?” The God of Thunder and Lightning had seemed unconvinced by the latter. He knew Junmyeon would love. No one could deny fate, not even them, but the image of his elder, the one who ruled over them and protected them, giving up his rage and letting go of the storm was absurd. Junmyeon didn’t know how to do that.

“The sea rages regardless, so does the sky.” Baekhyun responded, pointing an accusing finger at Jongdae, and then at the clouds around them when another flash of lightning passed right by his nose.

“Will he love her?” Jongdae looked over at his brother, his fingers still twirling the golden band on his ring finger.

“I doubt the Fates have seen anything akin to this.” Baekhyun answered. He had a familiar twinkle in his eyes. The God of Love was fortunate to witness the greatest love stories as they happened and the displeasure of watching the greatest tragedies too. This twinkle, not quite jovial, and not quite the shine of unshed tears, was simply content. There was a light at the end of this story, and that gave Jongdae enough assurance to put trust in his elder.

“What is she like?” Jongdae prodded.

“She is a mortician.” Baekhyun spoke, playing with the hem of his sleeve.

“She’s like Zitao then?” Jongdae tried to joke, his voice surprisingly light-hearted compared to the look in his chocolate eyes. Baekhyun laughed weakly, the sound hollow in his chest. Zitao was the God of the Underworld, the one in charge of death. He was tall, imposing, but also often the most understanding and merciful. He saw more death than all his other brothers and that made him gentler than some. Baekhyun knew Zitao was reasonable and kind, and he hoped the woman his brother would love would also be accepting.

“Water is a deceitful thing, it gives life, it shapes the earth,” Jongdae sighed, looking out into the dark clouds, feeling the electricity in the air, but before he could finish his thought Baekhyun cut in. His sombre eyes gazed into his brothers as his lips formed into a thin line and lightning flashed behind him.

“It drowns its victims.”

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Down below the water, deep within the Sea, Junmyeon ruled as King, as one of three brothers who ruled their own realms. His Sea was not the same as mortal oceans. It was an ancient realm between Olympus and the Underworld, deep and unforgiving, where everything answered to him. His realm existed just as he existed; as an in-between; a mediator. In a bubble of air at the very centre of this ancient depths, Junmyeon had built his palace, and in the deep trenches of the sea, he placed his forge. Marble halls filled with green plants, both those that grew on land and those that filled the floors of the endless ocean. Thanks to Junmyeon’s powers the kelps, seagrass and waterwheels that decorated the halls moved as if submerged in water. They danced along to the currents outside. The God of the Sea had a peaceful home, and an empty one too. Children had not graced these halls since the early days of Jongdae’s marriage centuries ago, and all his workers busied about not really paying him much attention. Everyone had their own life. Junmyeon liked it that way. This was also why he was currently pacing the main hall, stormy eyes mimicking sea currents as they gazed pointedly at the Fates that decided to visit him.

“Your time has come.” The youngest one said, twirling his golden thread between her fingers. She looked him right in the eyes, but her youthful amusement did not match his expression. He was angry, ready to create floods, ready to drown.

“My time will never come.” He had said, his eyes not meeting the three women. Although his voice carried anger, he was afraid that the ancient beings would be able to see beyond the rage. The idea that they could see his bitterness and somewhere even deeper than that, his longing, was a frightening thought.

“You cannot deny Fate. You cannot deceive us.” The oldest spoke, her croaky voice bouncing off his ears unpleasantly as it raised the hairs at the back of his neck.

“She will be miserable without you.” The middle one spoke, her voice calm and gentle, it would have reminded Junmyeon of a mother if he had one. Her voice was soothing, like a balm over a wound. Maybe, if she had continued speaking Junmyeon would have lost his will, maybe he would allow his walls and reservations come crashing down. He did not. His wounds were too deep and his walls built too high. There was no gate in them either. No Trojan horse could break him from the inside.

“Not for long.” His curt reply was icy like the blue waters of antarctica, and as he spat out his response, he could see the currents of the sea pick up ferocity in the way his plants swayed and rippled. Mortal lives were short. Even if Junmyeon never stepped foot on earth, her misery would not last long.

“You will forget how to live without her.” The youngest Fate chastised, pointing an accusatory finger with her free hand.

“You will forget how to love without her.” She added when Junmyeon did not move.

“Even your brothers.” She spoke, and although that shook him a little, Junmyeon was the Leader of the Gods, a King among them, he would not break the façade of calm fury he had assumed.

“You are already starting to.” The oldest Fate accused, her eyes falling on to the Guardian, but even her gaze could not break him.

He clenched his jaw and put his hands behind his back. Out of the scrutiny of the Fates, he let his hands shake a little, their faint trembling was a chip in his honour, a sign that they were right, that he was breaking. More than that, it was a sign that Junmyeon, the Guardian of the Gods, was breakable. Heavens forbid anyone, mortal or otherwise, found out.

“I am not.” He continued, staring right at the oldest Fate, his eyes black like a storm.

“You cannot deceive us.” She spoke and the middle Fate twisted the golden thread in her fingers and with that small movement, she sent Junmyeon to his knees.

He clutched at his heart, eyes falling shut as the pain in his heart spread through his ribcage. The knot that twined around his heart pulled, twisting the muscle, bending it out of shape. Behind his closed eyelids, Junmyeon watched his life, the empty halls of his palace, the fear and dejection in Jongdae’s eyes when he didn’t approve of his wife, the same look that graced Yixing’s face as it appeared before him. He knew his brothers had held their breath when he gave Yixing his wedding ring, he didn’t think it bothered him that much. Until now. Slowly, by denying their fate and their happiness, he was being unfair. His shortcoming and his burdens were not theirs to bare. His guilt was his alone.

They had stopped their frequent visits, reduced them to merely a few times a year. He knew Baekhyun was giving him the cold shoulder since he refused to bend to Fate, refused to accept it, and inadvertently refused his brothers greatest gift, the gift of Love. He was hurting them, just as he was hurting himself, and now, as his life twisted in the Fate’s fingertips, he was painfully aware of that. Even that though, no matter how hard it was to know, could not erase the image of tsunamis devouring the land, nor make him forget of sinking ships and the screams of those drowning under the force of the waves.

Once the pain subsided and he could open his eyes, Junmyeon saw the wrinkled face of the oldest Fate staring down at him, her eyes dark like the death she spun into their threads.

“As Gods can be cruel, so can we.” She spoke and for a brief moment the sea fell silent, all tides ceased their courses, and Junmyeon could hear the echoes of his own heart as it beat against the confines of his ribs.

“So I’ve been learning.” He grunted, rising onto his feet on wobbling legs, trying to dust off his dark blue suit.

“Where do I go?” He asked, his voice hoarse in his throat. He licked his lips in an attempt to moisten them, but to no avail as the cracks burned from his saliva.

“Forward. Your legs know where to find her, it is your destiny.” The middle Fate spoke, but just as before, it was not enough to calm his nerves. Before he could compose himself properly they were gone.

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Jongdae had kept repeating one phrase over the last few centuries.

“You cannot fight Fate.” He would always say, mostly as he looked out into the sky around Olympus while twirling the unbreakable golden band on his ring finger. He said it to his wife on their wedding day, he told his children that when he was putting them to bed. Jongdae whispered those words to Junmyeon when he was stubborn. Now, Junmyeon was muttering them to himself in anger as he cut flowers and put them in the right buckets of the flower shop he was working at. Pretending to be mortal was not a favourite past time of his and although he was grateful that Kyungsoo provided him with a human life and a job, he would rather not have ever set foot here. He did his job flawlessly, out of respect for the nature that Kyungsoo was the God of, and out of respect for Baekhyun, to whom he promised to try and find love. His usually mischievous brother ended up crying into his shoulder as he gave Junmyeon his blessings, but he didn’t mind. A few drops of water would never harm him, but they did make this decision easier.

The bell at the door chimed, rousing Junmyeon from his task. He peaked out from behind the stand, his eyes landing on a mortal woman. She wore a black dress with sheer back tights, black heels and her hair in a tight bun at the back of her head. A single silver hairpin gleamed in her hair in the shape of a water lily. Her eyes, blue and deep like ocean depths fell onto Junmyeon. She gave him a small smile, trying to be polite as she walked through the shop and to where he was standing, currently tending to a bucket of white chrysanthemums.

“How may I help?” Junmyeon asked, putting the pair of scissors he was holding away onto the counter behind him. His heart, which had been still during the last few centuries, was currently beating faster than it had ever beaten before, his blood, red and hot, pumped through his arteries with a force he could feel beneath his skin.

“Hello, I’m here to collect an order for Haven Family Funeral Home.” Her voice was even, unwavering. She gazed straight into his eyes, her deep blue a match for his deep brown, both filled with the force of a storm.

“The wreaths, and the white lilies?” He asked, remembering that there was only one delivery today, and that it was for a local funeral home. Kyungsoo had told him to be respectful to their workers as the community respected them.

“Yes.” The woman nodded, and Junmyeon’s breath caught in his throat, the oxygen not reaching his lungs as they burned for air. Even Gods had to breathe, but she was making it extremely hard for him right now. She smelled like fresh linen and dust, a strange mixture, but one he could understand. Zitao smelled of dust too, there was something about being in a place that meant endings that made it feel stagnant, as if no one and no thing wanted to move, because moving on was hard. No one wanted to do the hard things, no one wanted to say goodbye, but fate and life didn’t care what one wanted. Death came for all and Fate was inescapable.

“I’ll be right back.” He said, before disappearing at the back of the shop. There, once he was away from the eyes of the mortal woman, he fell. Onto his knees, onto the wooden floor, a God reduced to a man in pain. His heart banged against his ribs like an animal in a cage way too small for its size. It wanted to grow, extend beyond Junmyeon’s understanding. The muscle that stayed silent for millennia was now breaking free and his mind was reeling. It was on that very floor, somewhere on Earth, surrounded by gardening equipment, that the King of the Sea, the God of Water started the hardest lesson of his life.

After a moment, reluctantly, Junmyeon picked himself off the floor, dusting his black suit trousers, to pick up the wreaths and lilies the woman was waiting for. When he came out from the back room, Junmyeon was pale as a sheet, but his cheeks coloured a vibrant red as his heart continued its pounding.

“I’ll take them to your car.” He told her, trying to be nice, trying to make a good first impression. It took him only one look to know you were the one he was destined for. The golden thread of his life had twisted around his heart, locking it in place, forcing warmth to bloom in the cold cavity of his chest.

“Thank you,” She replied, looking into his eyes before they fell down onto the nametag attached to his shirt. “Junmyeon.”

The way her tongue twisted around the syllables and the way the sound resonated through him made his heart skip a beat and he wondered, when Baekhyun named his cherubs, did they too, feel such warmth when their names fell from his lips?

He walked behind her as she led him to her car and opened the boot for him. Once he placed the green wreaths and while lilies into the car, laying them flat so that they wouldn’t get squashed during the ride, he straightened and his eyes caught the black mark on the mortal’s wrist. The black ink spelled out the Chinese character for water, shui. His symbol, unbeknownst to her, stained her skin out of her own will. Fates apparently did have a sense of humour, or maybe they truly picked out the perfect person for him. Junmyeon shook his head, reminding himself she wasn’t his. She was mortal, she would live here and die here, and Junmyeon could not bring himself to take her away. Mortals had lives here, people they loved, people that loved them. They had pets and plants and dreams, and none of them involved him. They shouldn’t. He didn’t want to take her away from a life, her life, one she seemed content with, even if it was just on the surface. Junmyeon wasn’t that cruel.

“Shui?” He asked, the word falling from his lips, familiar like the back of his hand, like the very essence of his being.

“It means water.” She said, for lack of better response. They were both aware he knew the meaning but allowed her to say it anyway.

“I know.” He nodded, his eyes now scanning her face, subtly falling onto the curves of her lips, red like the blood pumping in her arteries. Red like the blood that was made up of water, water that called to him, that knew him.

“May I ask why?” He asked, no longer trying to keep his distance. Curiosity killed the cat, or so the tale went and Junmyeon was not impervious to its allure. Curiosity was what got him here, along with Baekhyun’s tears that soaked his shirt.

“Water is the beginning of life, the very possibility of living. It’s a good thing.” The woman answered, her hand rubbing along the strokes of the character, the black ink made more vivid under her fingertips.

“Is it?” Junmyeon asked. Was water truly this wonderful, worthy of tattooing the word onto your skin? Was it truly this life-giving, when it could also take it away, when it could destroy? Junmyeon was well acquainted with its darker side, familiar with the rage boiling under his skin.

“Living?” She asked, her incredulous eyes boring into his. A kind smile stretched her lips gently, without quite reaching her eyes.

He nodded, his eyes falling onto the pavement. He didn’t want her to see the storm that raged in his irises, the brown mixing with black, crashing against each other like waves. His inner turmoil was not meant for mortal eyes.

“I think so.” She replied, and although she never reached out and touched him, he felt comforted. The mortals didn’t hate him, because they didn’t know of him, didn’t know he was the one responsible for sinking ships and raging hurricanes.

“Are you a regular?” He asked. He promised Baekhyun he would try his best, and Junmyeon kept his promises.

“I am.”

“See you soon then.” He smiled, and she smiled back, her hands holding onto her car keys, reminding him he couldn’t keep her waiting.

“Same time next week.” She told him, swaying on the balls of her feet.

“I’m Evangeline by the way.” She introduced herself, sticking a hand out for him to shake. Kyungsoo had told him it was a greeting, so he extended his own hand, clasping her small one in his larger one, allowing her to shake it twice, a smile decorated her lips. This time it reached her eyes, and he though they were like still water, reflecting the storm in his.

“I’m Junmyeon, but you already know that.” He smiled, his own smile was weak, but Junmyeon had meant it, and he hoped she would understand. Her hand was warm in his, making his heart skip a beat in its attempt to escape his ribs to be closer to her. He watched her leave and once she did, Junmyeon could not help the rain that fell onto his cheeks like hot tears. As she left, the God of Water began his first lesson in love; falling.

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Exactly a week had passed. Seven days, Junmyeon had waited for the mortal woman to return to the florist, where Kyungsoo had given him a mortal life, all so that he could appease the Fates, all so that he wouldn’t break the promises he made to Baekhyun. All seven days were wasted on looking after the flowers. He cut the stems to equal lengths and he changed the water in the buckets. Junmyeon wondered what the mortal woman was doing. Evangeline was a mortician. He looked at death the same way Zitao did. Every day, he faced what all his other brothers were reluctant to. Every day Zitao did the gruelling work of judging souls, bringing peace to the suffering, easing the pains of the sick and hungry, bringing those whose strings had been cut into his realm, giving their souls a new home. Zitao did it all without complaint, did it all because he was kind, because he understood death, was familiar with endings. He wondered whether Evangeline was like that too. Was she kind? Did she know death like the back of her hand, looking it in the eyes day after day, unfaltering, with the same kind eyes she offered Junmyeon when they met? He knew she was strong. Not even Gods could look at death and carry on living.

Seven days Suho, the King of Sea, waited for a mortal woman who lived with death, and finally on the seventh day, just as he cut the last of the roses to equal length, the bell at the door chimed and she entered, clad in all black with her hair in a tight bun with a silver water lily pin keeping it together. This time, black leather gloves adorned her hands hiding the tattoo of water away from Junmyeon’s prying eyes. She had given him the same small smile as before, but her eyes shone like precious stones in the shop lights, tiredness danced in them like gentle currents. Junmyeon smiled back, his smile brighter than before, as he left all he was doing and grabbed the order of white lilies from behind the counter.

“More white lilies.” He informed her, watching as Evangeline walked over to where he was standing. Today, she was wearing a black coat over a white button up with a slim black tie. It was evident she had acted as a funeral attendant today. Her shoulders slumped lightly, and Junmyeon could see she was tired.

“Thank you.” She responded, giving him a small smile as she took the flowers from him. Her fingers brushed against his, sending a shock of electrifying warmth up his arm. The hair on her arms rose, her heart beating a little faster at their proximity. It was no secret Junmyeon was handsome, but more than that, Junmyeon seemed serious, and she had never thought that was a bad trait. Serious often went hand in hand with honest, and she wanted honesty above all else. Real love could not be built on lies.

“Would you like to get coffee later?” He asked, trying his best to be brave, trying to keep his promises.

“Sure.” Evangeline answered, her eyes gazing into his, “I finish at five.”

“So do I. I know a good coffee place.” He smiled.

“I’ll take your word for it.” She answered, the lilies in her hands were a stark contrast against her dark clothes as she held them closer to her chest, trying to keep her heart steady.

“See you later, Evangeline.” His voice was barely above a whisper, and despite the sudden chill that travelled up her spine, she could hear the fear in his voice, see the uncertainty brewing like a storm in his eyes as they darkened.

“Goodbye Junmyeon.” She whispered, unafraid. She had no reason to be.

He watched her retreating figure leave the store, and once she was out of his sight, Junmyeon slumped against the counter, his hand clutching his chest, where his heart resided.

As soon as the door closed, as soon as she was out of his sight, Junmyeon ran. He ran to the back of the shop, straight into Kyungsoo’s office, where he was currently playing with the leaves of a spider plant. When he noticed his brother at the door, he stopped, motioning for Junmyeon to sit. Suho’s wide eyes brewed with a storm, his shoulders rolling like a hurricane across land. With wild eyes, the Guardian of the Gods asked for his help, turning to the God of Harvest and the Earth for guidance. Junmyeon had always considered Kyungsoo as reasonable, someone who could provide solutions.

“So you are going for coffee?” His brother asked, his large owl-like eyes gazed at him gleaming with mirth.

“Is that bad?” Junmyeon asked. He had never been on a mortal date. At least not a modern one. All of his brothers had once taken human lovers, ones they lusted over, ones they toyed with. Never ones they loved. Love was not a feeling they felt towards humanity, love was reserved for the bonds of family and loyalty between them. That was all.

“No, that’s actually very good.” Kyungsoo spoke, his hands fiddling again with the green narrow leaves of the spider plant.

“How do you know?” Junmyeon narrowed his eyes at his younger brother.

“Baekhyun’s little messengers come to me too often.” He sighed, eyes distant as he thought about all the times Baekhyun’s love messengers forced their way into his office, trying to appease him with cups of herbal tea.

“They like you because you don’t tease them.” Junmyeon patted him on his back, fully aware that the younger gods teased them endlessly.

“Never mind that. Think about what you should do after this coffee.” Kyungsoo straightened up, his plush lips now set in a straight line, his bright eyes darkened into a serious expression.

“Like what?”

“Like a real mortal date.” Kyungsoo clarified, looking pointedly at his elder.

“I’m not a mortal.” Junmyeon’s eyes darkened, the hurricane in them picked up ferocity.

“You don’t want another date?” Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow, disbelief painting his usually stoic features.

“I don’t want to muddle in mortal lives.” Now, with the Fates muddling into the affairs of gods and mortals, love was something else, something more. Junmyeon did not appreciate the Fates trying to make him mellow, he had given up enough rage, he had taken on responsibilities that made his shoulders bow with their weight. Why could it not be carefree Chanyeol who caused fires, or Baekhyun who had dreamed of it since the birth of humanity? Why could it not be Kyungsoo, with his big eyes and earth-stained fingers, who had spent more time among mortals than the rest of them? Why did it have to Suho?

“As Gods can be cruel, so can we.” He recalled the Fates’ words, remembered the chill that went up his spine, the ghost of which was now crawling the ladder of his vertebrae so it could settle against his skull, ring like a bell in his ears.

“Our pasts are long gone, mortals don’t believe in them anymore. Or in us.” Kyungsoo’s wistful voice rumbled in baritone through the room, and Junmyeon could have sworn that his brother made the room shake.

“It’s time Junmyeon.” He spoke, his voice deep like the earth and warm as his eyes looked at his brother. His hand went to hold Junmyeon’s, and that gesture, bold in comparison to the gentle affection Kyungsoo usually preferred, was reassuring. Maybe that was what a mother’s embrace felt like, Junmyeon wondered. He allowed himself the liberty to squeeze back. Finally, Junmyeon had found the rock upon which his waves could crash, and he was glad it had been Kyungsoo who caught him, who was steady so that he could break.

“What should I do?” He asked, and Kyungsoo didn’t waste many words, for it was not his nature. His answer was short, but it was enough.

“Fall.”

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The coffee shop in front of which they met looked more like a greenhouse than a place serving food. Green areca palms were tall, spreading their thin leaves wide. Ficus plants stood like little trees beside the expensive brown leather couches in front of low dark wood tables. Small potted plants stood on windowsills and on plant stands in white ceramic pots. It was a pretty shop, one that Evangeline could see herself sitting in for hours.

Junmyeon smiled at the woman sitting in front of him. He could feel the strings around his heart pull and tug, trying to force him closer in an attempt to break the distance between them. The tugging was futile, as Junmyeon decided to keep his distance, watching as Evangeline’s red painted lips pressed against the white cup filled with espresso. Her black blouse was untied, the silk ribbons that would have been a bow before, now hung loosely exposing her collarbones and the expanse of her neck.

“This is a nice coffee shop.” She spoke, looking around at the plants surrounding their table.

“I didn’t lie.” Junmyeon smiled, his storm filled eyes never left her face, and his heart calmed when she caught his eyes. If he was filled with a storm, she was the opposite. Like calm waters, her eyes washed over him, surveying his relaxed form, watching as his fingers tapped ancient rhythms into his thigh.

“You didn’t.” She admitted. Her smile was bright, her eyes did not weaver from his as she held his gaze.

Junmyeon had ordered himself a cappuccino. He knew about coffee thanks to his brother’s Minseok’s love for the human beverage. It only took Minseok one trip to Venice, sometime in the 17th century, before he was in love and Jongdae’s wife once told Junmyeon that Minseok looked at a cup of coffee the same way Jongdae looked at her. Junmyeon wondered if the Fates would pair Minseok with the heir of Lavazza.

“How long have you worked at the funeral home?” He asked, wanting to know more about the mortal. If Fate wanted this, who was he to fight? If Fate dictated his, could Junmyeon truly resist? Jongdae and Yixing couldn’t escape, and he had a feeling neither could he.

“I’ve worked as an embalmer for three years now. I spent a year at the crematory.” She took a sip out of her cup.

“All for the same funeral home?” Junmyeon was intrigued. He had tried to avoid death, spent the last three thousand years as far away as possible. He kept his rage simmering, or at least tried to. Gods were volatile, and when they burst mortals suffered.

“Yeah. I like my co-workers and their values.” Evangeline nodded, eyes staring at him as he relaxed into the couch.

“Have you been a florist for a long time?” She asked in return, and Junmyeon had to remember that this was an exchange, ironically a one-sided exchange. Every word that came out of his mouth was a half-truth, a white lie to not give away much about himself.

He felt his heart constrict and the air leave his lungs, the familiar discomfort of guilt crawled its way languidly out of his stomach where he had buried it.

“A fair bit. I stopped counting how long.” He answered. Looking nonchalant and confident, he smiled at the woman in front of him. His arm rested on the plush leather armrest whilst his other hand played with the white ceramic of his coffee cup.

“Well, you must either love it or hate it then.” Evangeline laughed. Junmyeon had looked so serious, his eyes lost somewhere far away. She reasoned that if she had loved doing something, she would stop counting too. In the case that she hated every day of work, no longer counting would have been a reprieve. How could you continue living a life you hated if you knew how long you still have left? She didn’t want to even consider such a life. Evangeline was fortunate.

“How so?” Junmyeon asked, focusing on her, watching as she leaned closer towards the table, closer towards him. Among the warm tones of roasted coffee he could smell jasmine flowers, sweet and fragrant as they hung in the air. He wanted to continue breathing it in, wondering what he smelled like to mortals.

“You don’t strike me as someone old enough to stop counting years spent in industry.” Evangeline smiled, allowing Junmyeon to catch her eyes. He held her in his stare. The dark in his eyes was endless, and she felt herself tip over the edge of this unknown abyss.

“Why not?” Junmyeon’s voice was low and she felt the low rumble course through her.

“I believe I have lived long enough for numbers to be arbitrary.” He tilted his head, not breaking eye contact. He found he like the way she looked at him, her eyes swimming with questions and her lips trying to curl around unspoken words as she contemplated which ones should be voiced.

“How old are you?”

“How old do I look?” He smiled. Junmyeon could not guess how old he looked to mortals. Many things had changed since he came down to Earth. Civilisations rose and fell, people changed too, they changed clothes, the way they cut their hair, the way they spoke. Everything was different.

“You look about my age.” Evangeline answered, her eyes falling onto Junmyeon’s face. His strong brows and serious eyes told her he was mature, but his gentle features and golden skin didn’t show the effects of time on his complexion. She thought he was handsome, but she would not date to say it out loud.

“I’m thirty-one.” Junmyeon lied, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. He and Kyungsoo worked out a suitable mortal age for him before he came down to Earth, something old enough to allow for maturity and young enough to not attract scrutiny.

“I’m twenty-eight.” Evangeline answered, and Junmyeon could hardly comprehend how young she was compared to him. She was so young, she had seen so little compared to his brothers.

Twenty-eight years was a spec of dust in the lives of the Gods. He had lived four thousand years and half of that he spent living in chaos.

“I think I would like to know you better.” He told her sincerely. It was one of the only whole truths that passed his lips this evening and it felt good not lying to her.

“I like that too.”

Hours later, when it was time to finally part, they had looked once more in each other’s eyes, his a dark raging tempest; hers a brewing storm. Slowly, as if not to frighten him, Evangeline approached his towering figure, and pressed her lips into Junmyeon’s. The kiss was warm, and Junmyeon stood there as if carved out of marble, unmoving. Before he could react, reciprocate the small gesture, Evangeline had pulled away. Her bright red lips curved into a little smile and she waved him goodbye before disappearing into the crowd of mortals mingling about the street. Junmyeon watched her go, like a splash of black ink rolling through clear water until it diffused into nothing.

As Evangeline walked, she could not help but breathe deeply, not able to get the smell of sea breeze out of her nose, like the seaside after a storm. She turned her head to look back, catching Junmyeon’s eyes for one more second. Her blood rushed through her ears, imitating the sound of waves crashing against the shore.

-----------

Days passed in pleasant monotone. The new routine Junmyeon had built was broken only by occasional messages from Evangeline. The moment Junmyeon set foot on Earth Kyungsoo handed him a mobile phone and told him to figure it out. It had taken three of Baekhyun’s love messengers and a storm rolling towards the country and crushing against the southern shore for Junmyeon to learn to call and text. He still had no idea about what the Cherubs, as Baekhyun had decided to affectionately call them, referred to as Internet and he was not keen on learning either. Kyungsoo had mentioned that he does not use it either and since then Junmyeon refused help with it.

Evangeline soon learnt that Junmyeon was a lot more confident answering calls than texting. He had even taken the initiative to ask her on a date. He never mentioned where they were going, so just in case she had eaten before she left. They met in city centre, just outside the main government administrative building.

“What are we doing today?” She asked, looking up at the man as he led her through the streets.

“We are going to an Aquarium.” He answered and Evangeline could not help but feel relief at the idea.

“Right.” She nodded, falling in step with him as he lead the way to the large modern structure across the bridge.

“Do you like marine animals?” Evangeline asked, wondering why he would suggest such a unorthodox place. She was not complaining though, she had not been to the aquarium since she was little. It would be nice to visit it again.

“I love all marine life.” Junmyeon smiled, looking over at her. His eyes held a warmth in them that she hadn’t seen before. The serious, heavy atmosphere that usually surrounded Junmyeon and all of their conversations was gone. Evangeline could have sworn the man was practically gliding across the pavement, his legs light and his spirits lifted.

Once they had made it inside, Junmyeon had taken the liberty to hold her hand. Sometime after purchasing tickets he managed to slip his fingers through hers, intertwining their hands. His large hand was warm and comforting against her palm. A part of Junmyeon wanted to break all the glass here and let these fish and marine mammals and other creatures, all equally dear to him, all necessary, back to where they belonged. He knew it was unfeasible. Humans had an aptitude for destroying things, one that could rival the Gods, one that did affect the reals which they ruled. Humans had destroyed the habitats these living creatures belonged in, or they were in the process of destroying them. Humans knew like no other creature on Earth how to lay waste to ruin. They were masters of the craft. Some cared. Some looked at these creatures and felt the same rage simmer in their blood as him, some did all they could to preserve these creatures. Some of these humans even worked here. Junmyeon wanted to burst at the seams with rage, but the small hand clutching onto his was an anchor. It kept him in place, it reminded him why he didn’t meddle despite his desires, even the righteous ones.

Evangeline watched him from the corner of her eyes. When she saw another deep breath find a home in Junmyeon’s lungs she let her thumb caress the back of his hand, rubbing soothing circles over the smooth skin. Her eyes fell onto the brightly coloured fish in their tanks and she watched with awe as they swam between the vegetation.

“What is this?” She asked, pointing at the yellow fish, coloured like sunflower petals.

“Who.” Junmyeon corrected her, forgetting for a moment that he was pretending to be mortal. He had become comfortable by her side, Evangeline still rubbed circles at the back of his hand and each one was sending currents of electricity through his nerves, casing his blood to rush faster through his veins.

“That’s a Yellow Tang.” He pointed at the same small yellow fish she had.

“That’s a butterfly fish.” He pointed at another one as it swam to the front. It had stayed in front of Evangeline and Junmyeon had to remember to blink as he peered at the little fellow. She’s mine. He scrunched up his nose and the Yellow Tang swam away to hide behind some growing seaweed. There were benefits to being the God of the Sea and one of them was stopping marine life from ogling your girlfriend. What a life he was living.

“And this one is a Gobie.” He pointed at another fish as it swam towards them, passing Junmyeon to once more stay in Evangeline’s line of sight. Junmyeon shook his head in disbelief.

“That’s a clown fish, and the other one is Royal Blue Tang.” They passed onto another tank now and Junmyeon’s heart skipped a beat when Evangeline jumped excitedly as she peered into the green vegetation. From between the greenery swaying lightly in the currents generated by the water filter peeked a few little orange fish, their white stripes lined with black. Three deep blue fish, slightly bigger than them swam in front of the glass, waving their yellow fins and swaying their yellow tails.

“It’s Nemo and Dory.” Evangeline pointed at the Clown fish and then at the Royal Blue Tang. Junmyeon watched her, not understanding what she meant.

“Who?” He asked, eyebrows raised and wondering how she could possibly know their names.

“Have you never seen Finding Nemo?” She had looked at him with wide eyes, not believing what she heard. Junmyeon was tuck like a deer in the headlines. This was one these mortal things he didn’t understand and doubted he ever would.

“Finding who?” He repeated, still as confused as before. Evangeline straightened up, looking him in the eyes she smiled.

“I know what we are doing next.” She announced, before moving to the next tank.

Two hours passed in complete comfort as Junmyeon wondered the aquarium, Evangeline’s hand leaving his only in the small giftshop at the end of their trip. She had went and bought something small when he wasn’t looking, before taking his hand again.

“I got this for you.” She opened the little gift envelope, before taking out something small and shiny.

“Thank you.” Junmyeon took it from her. It seemed so small between his fingers. A small enamel badge gleamed in his hand, it was a little Royal Blue Tang.

“May I?” Evangeline asked, taking the little pin from between his fingers. Her fingers brushed against his and a current shot through their fingers, making their hearts beat faster. The golden thread keeping his heart prisoner tightened around the muscle, reminding him of the fate that bound them together.

“Of course.” He managed to tell her, his eyes creasing into half moons as he smiled, his cheeks rounding. She smiled back, fingers threading through his navy suit jacket to attach the little fish to the collar. Evangeline smoothed out the non-existent creases with her hands. Before she could retreat them, Junmyeon caught one of her hands in his, threading his fingers through hers. Joined this way, the continued walking.

-----------

The few days between their meetings had given Junmyeon time to resume his duties as a god. He allowed the tides to bash against the shores with new strength, waves beating against sand and rock and land, carving out new shapes and paths in their wake, creating and destroying all at once. Suho spun the typhoons and derechos away from the sea and towards the land, letting rain and sea water carve into the islands and continents. Nature had to run its course, whether people liked it or not, whether Junmyeon wanted it or not. Balance was essential. Balance was their friend and foe and duty. Junmyeon relished in the sound of waves crashing against the shore, he breathed in the fresh air, filled with storms and violence. His deep eyes, matching the dark waters crashing into land, scanned the horizon, his hair was tussled by the winds as he took in the force of his power, finally feeling what mortals knew since the beginning of their creed.

Electrifying, that was the way she would have described him had she been present. Magnetic and terrifying would also work if Evangeline could look into his eyes right now. Their softness was gone, replaced with something hard and serious. Duty or power, or maybe both, had made him harsh again, and it was this harshness, like a typhoon, that welcomed her when she visited the flower shop.

"Is everything alright?" The words flew out of her mouth faster than she could think, and her hands had reached for him out of their own volition, gentle in the way they cradled his cheek.

"I suppose so." Junmyeon spoke, his voice thunderous and cacophonous like crashing tides. He let his arms fall around Evangeline's waist, firm and sure in their hold. Junmyeon was meant to be the secure brother, the one sure of his standing, the one whose decisions are always executed, his words final. He had made his decision among the crashing hurricanes. Love was a force equal to his own, and he would not fight it. Evangeline was kind and mortal, but she would endure his love. She had seen death and continued living, continued being kind. That was more than Junmyeon could say for himself. He would give up his rage. He would transform it.

"You look different." She whispered, eyes falling from his hardened eyes to pursed lips.

"How so?" He looked down, feeling his true form peak through the mortal disguise.

"Like you're angry." She whispered again. It was quieter than before, more unsure.

"I'm not angry." He told her, turning his head enough to lay a kiss on her open palm as it still pressed against his cheek. The smooth skin was warm against him, comforting.

"Let me buy you dinner." He offered. Evangeline nodded her head, her perfectly red lips stretching into a smile. Junmyeon thought she would make a beautiful bride, dressed in white instead of black, holding flowers meant for the living. Reluctantly, he gave her white lilies and watched her walk out of the shop. Duty called, and Junmyeon understood very well what it meant to answer it. Love was a duty too, he thought, and Junmyeon was no longer afraid.

Later in the week they ended up in Evangeline’s home, curled up on the sofa as Finding Nemo played from her tv.

“These fish talk?” Junmyeon asked, eyeing the screen as the two clownfish, a dad and his son, argued about swimming.

“It’s an animation.” Evangeline laughed, watching as Junmyeon refused to take his eyes off the screen, gaze trailing behind the bright orange little fish as Nemo made his way to school for the first time.

“They are not real?” Junmyeon sounded incredulous. She wondered if he was one of those weird types whose parents never allowed cartoons.

“Are humans really that evil? Why do they take these creatures from their homes?” Junmyeon had cuddled up to her as the film progressed, angry at the way humans had separated the family. He had always known humans were cruel like that, but watching it on screen as it unfolded, knowing that the mortals knew what they were doing, was unbearable.

“Humans tend to take the things they think are pretty for themselves.” Evangeline answered him, her fingers running through Junmyeon's dark hair. His head had fallen into her lap and she enjoyed the comfort they have settled into.

“I can’t say I don’t understand, but I think by now they should know better.” He spoke, and she nodded along.

“We should.”

The film passed in silence. Junmyeon ended up too invested in it to speak, and when Nemo and his dad finally reunited, Evangeline could feel something wet soak through her pyjama bottoms.

“He finally found him.” Junmyeon whispered. She could see him wipe away a stray tear from his eyes with his sleeve.

“Do you want a hug?” She asked, stopping the gentle movement of her fingers through his hair to allow him to sit up.

“Yes.” He said, but instead of falling into being the small spoon he cradled her in his arms trailing kisses through her hair. She let him, closing her eyes when his hands came to rub soothing circles over her back.

"There is also Finding Dory." She whispered, eyes twinkling in amusement as Junmyeon stilled.

"Maybe next time." His voice came out a little hoarse, and she laughed lightly, turning to press a kiss against his lips.

----------- 

Mortified. The mortal word felt adequate in describing how Junmyeon was feeling right now. Baekhyun and some of his little love messengers sat at his table at the coffee shop down the street from Kyungsoo's shop. Sipping on his coffee, Baekhyun kept giving him mischievous smiles as he winked at him over the rim of his cup. The love messengers laughed at his predicament, finding his powerlessness amusing.

“You cried watching a children animation?” Baekhyun asked when Junmyeon finished telling his story.

“It was about fish! What could I have done?” The God of Sea tried defending himself. The wellbeing of those who live in the sea was always a touchy subject for him. It was no wonder then, why he had allowed his emotions to show.

“You could have tried to look cool.” One of the love messengers supplemented as he drank his coffee.

“I think it is good he cried.” Another one chimed in. Honestly, Junmyeon didn't know their names that well. A new one was born when Baekhyun felt like it, and Baekhyun expressed his feelings more than any other brother of his did.

“He seems more human that way.” Baekhyun nodded along, his eyes surveying Junmyeon as he allowed some of his godly power to seep through. Rage lit in his eyes. Baekhyun could swear he saw a hurricane swirl in his irises and could hear waves crash when he spoke again.

"I'm not human."

“She’ll like you more now.” Baekhyun chastised. It wasn't like him to scold Junmyeon like that, but sometimes his brothers needed reminders. Love was a gift. A gift from him, and he took his gift giving very seriously.

“She’d like him anyway, its destiny.” Kyungsoo's voice rang out behind them, and the messengers scrambled off their couch to offer space to the Earth God.

“You should kiss her next time.” He said when he sat down, his brown eyes soft but his expression was firm.

“Yeah, snog her.” Baekhyun cheered, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Feel some eros for her, show her some eros.” The god of love raised his eyebrows at him, sending a cheeky wink Suho's way.

“I thought I should be feeling a different type of love.” He spoke, raising his cup to his lips, allowing the hot bitter liquid to slide down his throat. He preferred godly nectar, but down on Earth coffee was sufficient.

“Don’t lecture me about love.” Baekhyun spoke, and the ground beneath them shook with the force of his power. Junmyeon's heart skipped a beat as he was reminded just how much power his brother possessed, even over them- those both angry and immortal.

-----------

Evangeline was kind. He knew that early on. Evangeline was brave and she endured, he knew that too. Evangeline was only mortal, fragile and flawed and empathetic. She was vulnerable. He was witnessing this first hand now.

He found her weeping on the kitchen floor. She had called him twenty minutes prior asking him to come see her. Junmyeon heard the break in her voice and wasted no time. She was still wearing her black coat, her loafers were still on her feet. She had decided to curl into a ball beside the kitchen cabinets.

With slow, deliberate steps, Junmyeon walked across the kitchen, he sunk to his knees beside her and waited.

"Thank you." She whispered when Evangeline looked up. Junmyeon's breath caught in his throat before he moved to sit beside her on the tiled floor. Evangeline rested her head on his shoulder. He took the opportunity to intertwine their fingers, placing her hand in his lap. With slow, deliberate movements he turned his head, and placed a gentle kiss in her hairline, allowing her to burrow into the crook of his neck. Her tears begun to flow again, warm and wet against his skin as they seeped through his shirt. He didn't mind. Water was his domain, water was him; and yet his heart broke that it flowed from her eyes, rendered her small and broken.

"Do you want to tell me what is wrong?" Suho asked, his voice small as he held Evangeline in his arms.

"They drowned." The words came out as a whisper. For a moment, Suho's heart stopped. He knew by now that some days this job was harder than others. He knew that there were days when Evangeline broke down at the smallest thing; completely overwhelmed. This would pass, she knew this too.

"In the sea?" He asked, afraid of looking down at her. He felt her nod. They lived in a seaside town. It was not unusual this time of year, it didn't make it any less tragic.

Guilt ate at him. He had stayed far away from humans for so long, commanded the seas and waters of the Earth from far away. He made his rule impersonal. Now, with her in his arms he was faced once more with the consequences of his powers. Old ghosts came out to haunt him, blame him for tragedies long forgotten. It ate away at him, dulling the hurricanes in his soul, slowing the waves in their path. Was this what the Fates wanted? Was it his turn to confront his ghosts? Fate is cruel, he thought. Fate is cruel, he breathed, and placed a tender kiss in Evangeline's hair, smoothing down the strands with his hand, letting her warm up in his embrace. Like a gentle summer stream, Junmyeon flowed, enveloping her in safety, tenderly.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered.

"I'm so, so sorry." He looked into her eyes, glossy with tears, as his blurred with the images of old ghosts. For a moment he remembered every ship that sunk in his rage, every lover who took their last breath in the murky waters of his kingdom, every echo of prayers sent his way to bring those lost back to shore prayed too late.

"It's not your fault." Evangeline rose from his shoulder, cradling his face in her hands. Junmyeon grabbed onto them like a lifeline, like an anchor he was afraid would rise too fast.

"It is." His tone was serious, darker. Godliness shone through him, waves crashed in his irises.

"I am the god of Water, King of Seas."

"Poseidon." He punctuated every letter.

"Neptune."

"Aegir." his voice was not loud, but it crashed through the space between them like waves against cliff faces. Forceful and final.

"Call me by any name, I have created them all." He whispered, almost ashamed.

"I am water." He spoke. Not once did he waver. He did not smile, his eyes didn't twinkle. His brows set over his features unmoving, his lips were like stone, features unmoving.

"And water drowns its victims." His eyes darkened, and he could no longer hold her hand.

Evangeline pulled away, her head shaking lightly as she searched Junmyeon's eyes for any hint of jest. She couldn't find any.

"No, Junmyeon." Breath caught in her throat and her voice cracked when she said his name.

"I'm sorry." He reached his hand out towards the kitchen sink above them, and with a flick of his wrist the water flowed from the pipes. With another twist of his hand it flew through the air, a thousand droplets filled the air, suspended and still. Light passed through them like through a chandelier. The room filled with golden rays. In any other circumstance Evangeline would have thought the sight to be magical, beautiful. Now she found it horrid, frightening.

The man she loved wasn't a man at all. He was something else, something unknown.

"Get out." The words punctured the air. Junmyeon forgot how to breathe.

"Get out." Evangeline repeated, pushing him away. The sudden touch caught him off guard. He lost all concentration. Thousand droplets fell around them, crashing against tiles and furniture as rain does against pavements.

Soaked, Evangeline shook, her whole body trembling as she made her way to her feet.

Slowly, Junmyeon rose from his seat on the floor. Not wanting to cause her further distress, he avoided her eyes as he walked out of the apartment. The only sound that carried through the air were his shoes against the wet floor.

Once he was in the corridor, out from Evangeline's line of sight, he heard a muffled crash. Silence. Then the sobs.

He took a deep breath, tears clouded his vision, and for the first time in over a thousand years, the God of Water, King of Seas, let himself cry.

With one last step he collapsed outside of his underwater halls, right by the throne surrounded by channels of sea water and crashing waves. Power had carried him to the safely of his home.

"We told you, Raging Tide." The Fates echoed through the Halls.

"To love is to hurt." Their voice rung out, thunderous and eternal as Junmyeon knelt at their feet.

-----------

A day passed by. Then another. Junmyeon had gained a new companion in that time. Fear was a new friend, or maybe a fiend as it stole his sleep and took his will.

He remembered what the Fates had predicted the first time they came to his Halls under the Oceans.

"You will forget how to live without her."

Their words seemed truer now than ever.

Junmyeon's thoughts were broken when his name rung out, bright and clear through the air.

"Suho!" His brother paced through the hall towards him.

"Baekhyun." He greeted, allowing the God of Love to hold him at arms length as he spoke. Baekhyun's usual light smile and twinkling eyes were replaced with worry. His coat was soaked by the roaring tides that crashed through Junmyeon's palace every once in a while. He must have gone down the wrong corridor when he went searching for him.

"Go to her." Baekhyun wasted no time in getting to the point. Junmyeon had promised his brother that he would not reject his greatest gift, but right now, more than ever Junmyeon wanted nothing to do with Love, nor with Fate.

"She does not want me to come." He spoke plainly, placing his hands behind his back as he tried to turn away.

"If you don't go now, you will truly lose her." Baekhyun admonished, making Junmyeon face him properly and look into his eyes.

"I made a mistake." The God of Water spoke. Behind him, Baekhyun could hear another wave crash through the marble halls.

"Then apologise." It was simple, a mortal solution that could remedy everything. Even to gods such as them it was hard. Apologise were difficult, no matter how many aeons one lived.

"There are no words adequate for her." Junmyeon turned his eyes way from the scrutiny of his brother. How could he apoligise? What words should he use. All languages of the Earth, alive or dead, did not have the vocabulary to describe his deep sorrow, to put his guilt into something tangible and explainable.

"You can't know until you try." Baekhyun pressed further, his hands no longer resting on his brother's shoulders. He gripped Junmyeon by the elbow, preventing him from moving away, from fleeing.

"Love hurts." Junmyeon muttered, allowing a new darkness to settle over him.

"Love heals too." Baekhyun spoke, sure of the fact that if his brother tried, he could find the right words. Happiness was so close, Baekhyun could taste it on the tip of his tongue. All Junmyeon needed to do was reach out.

"Go." He nudged Junmyeon one more time. A moment passed, and then Junmyeon's hard eyes settled on his. Junmyeon nodded, wordless and encompassing.

In a blink of an eye, he was gone and Baekhyun gripped empty air where he once stood.

-----------

Evangeline had spent the last two night crying, trying to dry her kitchen and her tears. Still, she found spots of dampness that reminded her that Junmyeon was a god. Junmyeon whom she loved, who she sought out in the night, who slept beside her and who smiled at her over bouquets of white lilies as if they were not meant for funerals.

She stood at the sink, watching water drip from the tap, remembering the way Junmyeon moved, the way he commanded it, the way it fell like torrential rain around them. She hung her head, trying not to think about him. Maybe if she forgot him she could live on. Maybe she could pretend he never existed in the first place.

A knock on the kitchen door startled her out of her thoughts. Evangeline turned, afraid that someone had gotten in without her permission.

Instead of a stranger, her eyes landed on a stoic man, his brows dark and heavy over his eyes. For the first time she noticed the way Junmyeon's eyes swirled like hurricanes. Despite the distance between them, she could see the crashing of tides over his face.

"I'm sorry." He spoke first. She stood still, afraid that if she moves away he will disappear like an apparition and if she moves closer she will never be able to let go.

"It wasn't the right time to unleash this on you." He continued, his voice deep and heavy as it crashed against her.

"You were having a hard time and it was unfair of me."

"Unfair of you?" She finally spoke. Despite her broken tone her words rang out clearly. For a moment Junmyeon looked away.

"I allowed my own guilt to take precedence." He clarified. Slowly, like he did that night, he walked towards her, giving her time to move away or to stop him. Evangeline did neither. her hands crossed over in front of her, but she didn't stop him.

"I am the one who controls tides and currents. I should take blame for when people die in my domain." Junmyeon spoke. He had been responsible for a long time, guilt ridden and detached all at the same time. People blamed him whether he was at fault or not, and he didn't doubt Evangeline would too. She knew the truth of what he was now.

"Just because you control water does not mean everything that happens in it is your fault." Her voice was quiet, but she looked into his eyes regardless.

"Did you know they drowned?" She asked after a moment.

"No." Junmyeon told the truth. He could control the tides, he could crash waves and aid migrations and lost ships but Junmyeon was not omniscient.

"Then how can you blame yourself?" It was so simple. So mortal. He didn't know it happened, he didn't cause it. So why would he feel guilty?

Slowly, as if not to scare him, Evangeline reached out, her palm cradled his face, stroking gently along his cheek bone. Her touch was warm, reassuring.

Something slipped off of Junmyeon, the hurricanes in his eyes changed into the glistening waters of calm cerulean seas.

He placed his hand over hers, before lowering his face to hers. Gently, slowly, they closed the gap between them. His lips were warm against hers, moving in careful, practised tandem as they drew the breath from her lungs, filling her with something hotter. Junmyeon's hands traversed the planes of her back, firm and solid against her. He pulled her closer, until no space between them remained. Evangeline's hands found their way around his waist. Their lips parted ways only for a moment.

"I love you." Junmyeon whispered against the skin of her cheek, before finding his way to her lips again. He didn't need an answer. The flutters of her heart against his were enough.

-----------

Since Evangeline found out Junmyeon was the God of Water, Junmyeon had become more keen in taking her out by the sea. Today he had taken her to the cliffs. They had strolled the lush green hills, covered in wild grass and purple flowers that somehow resisted the sea breeze and the salt in the air. They had walked hand in hand along the rocky beaches, watching waves crash and break against the shore. Now, they stood shoeless on a rock jutting out into the sea, a part of the low side of the cliff face as it joined the sea.

She truly had not meant to do that. In fact, she had wanted to do anything but that. She wasn’t much of a swimmer, and she had never dived in her life so slipping and falling off the rock and into the sea below was unnatural. She hit the waves, her whole body felt like it was covered in pins and needles. The coldness bit at her skin in the form of thousands of tiny teeth and her lungs burned as she tried her best to not breathe in the water. The salt burned her eyes, turning her vision skewed and blurry. Down here, there was no sound. No noise penetrated the wall of water all around her, and it was as if the sea had decided to drag her down, further and further into it’s depths, slowly.

Junmyeon’s reaction was almost instant. He let go of their shoes and jumped in after her, commanding the sea to let her go. The sea didn’t listen. Water was Junmyeon, and Junmyeon was water, and the sea desired her the same way he did. It’s desire was deadlier, it’s hold on her was the very opposite of Junmyeon’s. Cold fingers dug into her, clawing at her to stay, to be one with the sea bed. Junmyeon disapproved. He followed her trail, watching in the darkness as his love thrashed about and then slowly lost the will to fight as the current dragged her. The water whispered, pleaded for her to stay.

Junmyeon knew she was still human, mortal and fragile. Humans could not breathe underwater, could not survive the temperatures of the depths. Not without aid, not in normal clothes and without apparatuses that allowed them to breathe.

With one final command, Junmyeon called for the sea to leave her. This time it listened. The current around her stilled, keeping her in place, before pushing her towards him and towards the surface. It was arduous. Time seemed to slow down and seconds turned into whole eternities and lifetimes as he waited for her to be back in his arms.

Junmyeon gripped her, in the darkness of the sea, he fought the currents, bringing their mouths together, breathing air into her lungs as the tides carried them to shore, against nature but not against their master.

“I thought the Sea would never let you go." He spoke finally when Evangeline stopped coughing. She was still shaking from the cold and the ordeal, but she was alive, and her lungs were full of air. Crisp, sweet air.

"I thought so too." She whispered, falling into Junmyeon's waiting arms. He held her closed, warming her up with his body as he tried to ease her trembling.

"How can the soulmate to the God of Water not know how to swim?" He asked her, eyes incredulous and brows furrowed.

"Call it Fate." Evangeline managed to joke, but Junmyeon pulled her in closer, peppering kisses along her wet hair. The sun began shining again, its warm rays falling on their tangled bodies as they lay on the rocky beach.

"Fate indeed." Junmyeon whispered, looking up at the sky, wondering if his brothers were looking down at him now, whether it was Jongdae pulling the clouds apart to make space for Yixing's sun.

-----------

They left the beach soaked and trembling, but the whole ordeal had left Junmyeon with an idea. He didn't bother taking Evangeline back to her car. He didn't take her to the nearest village inn or grocery store. Instead, he pulled power, and in one step Evangeline found herself in his Halls under the primordial Oceans.

Evangeline's eyes roamed the marble halls, the flowers engraved in the walls that glistened from their mother-of-pearl linings. The rays of Olympus sun that reached them regardless of depths broke into rainbow shards on the walls and floors as they hit the crystal chandeliers with opal embellishments. Seaweeds swayed as if underwater and other sea plants lined the halls. the soft sound of flowing water came from the channels that turned the floors into an unending maze. Every once in a while Evangeline heard the great crashing of tides as they swept through distant rooms.

"Welcome to my home." Junmyeon spoke, leading her through the grandeur into his private rooms. There, he handed her clean dry clothes. One of his old tunics and a pair of soft cotton trousers. He handed her a towel as well.

Evangeline smiled and went to change behind a screen in the corner of the room.

"It's beautiful here, Myeon." She said once was dressed.

"Thank you. It's all yours." He watched her from his bed, the huge four-poster was covered in deep blue fabrics. Here in the depths Evangeline could see Junmyeon's godliness better. He seemed to glow with power, eyes shining and hair askew as if ruffled by sea breeze.

"My home is your home. Remember that." He told her, and she came closer to sit beside him. All this time they would meet in her home. Being here was foreign, strange. Only now she truly understood the scope of his power, the seriousness of their predicament. He was ancient, powerful and responsible for things she could not begin to understand. She was a mortal. her life a speck of dust compared to his, her responsibilities paled in comparison. She wondered, for the first time, whether this could even work.

"Will you tell me more," She finally asked, taking Junmyeon's hand in hers, she looked into his eyes and took a deep breath "About yourself and your family."

Junmyeon watched Evangeline with piercing eyes. He nodded, intertwining her fingers with his.

“ Gods feel lust, but we don’t fall in love. At least not the way humans do. The Fates saw that as a flaw, and my brother Baekhyun, the God of Love, agreed. He wanted to give his brothers what he gave to mortals, a type of happiness I suppose.”

He gave Evangeline a tight-lipped smile and she squeezed his hand.

"So the Fates and Baekhyun made a deal. They would tie soulmate knots into our lifelines, knots that cannot be undone. There was a caveat. The Fates wanted us to submit to their judgement, so there is no way to untie the knot without killing us."

"So you just accept Fate?" Evangeline was bewildered, her eyes Searched Junmyeon's face for any hint of hesitation or anger.

"Everyone accepts fate. We just happen to know about it. There are no exceptions in this universe. We just happen to be aware of it." Junmyeon let out a laugh, his lips falling into Evangeline's hairline. She still smelled like the sea, like him.

“So the myths?” She enquired, thinking back to high school, to learning about their marriages and conquests and romances.

“What myths? Of all the demigods? Of all of our lovers?” Junmyeon laughed again, smile bright and shoulders shaking gleefully, his eyes fell on Evangeline, his fingers smoothing over the furrow in her brows.

“Partially true. The time between ancient Greeks and the Crusades was a bit of a wild ride. We were ruled by chaos before I decided to be the responsible brother. Our children didn’t live long, they were volatile, unstable. They all died young. ” There was a small hint of regret in his voice, although he was never a proper parent before he felt hurt and grief for his children. Some things were inevitable if you lived this long.

“As my brothers run amok, Minseok and I looked at the death and destruction we caused and felt guilt, promised to never set foot on Earth again. I stayed clear of mortal affairs since.” He spoke, leaning back to take a good look at his soulmate. He felt the golden rope tied around his heart twist and tighten, reminding him of who they were and their destiny.

“Why me?” She asked, her voice small and unsure, and Junmyeon said the phrase he had heard over and over.

“Fates can be cruel.”

"Cruel?" He realised too late that this might have been the wrong choice of wording. Hurt flashed across Evangeline's face, marring her brows, twisting her lips. Her eyes flashed with sadness, but Junmyeon was quick to remedy that.

"Meddlesome." He corrected himself.

"Fate meddles, churns and spins our lives in ways we don't want." Junmyeon twisted their intertwined hands, pressed her palm to where his heart was, beating for her, twisting and churning as fate intended.

"It teaches us, that maybe the things we don't want, our fears and our rage, are only temporary. They harms us rather than protects us." He remembered his rage and his guilt, and the way she eased it, made it bearable.

“Do you really love me?” Evangeline asked, her eyes looking at him, waiting for him to look away, expecting him to do so.

“Yes.” Junmyeon was not a man who wavered or swayed. He would not turn away.

“It’s not lust I’m feeling. Eros is different. Eros is shallow, fleeting.” He remembered that kind of love. The gods had been hungry, left wanting more; never satiated. Junmyeon remembered the way it settled into his stomach like a monster in its pit. The lair had been shallow, and it did not make a home of it for long. This was different. It was terrifying and exhilarating and full of contradictions. This was the kind of love that would last, one that would never starve and never waver and never fade. It was a love that would require devotion and compromise and he was ready for both.

"This love is Pragma. A love built on duty and compromise and growth. This is a love that we had not been bestowed before."

“I feel like I’m drowning without you.” Junmyeon's breath fanned over Evangeline's face like a warm breeze.

“You can’t drown.” She whispered, remembering what had transpired earlier. He smiled lightly, but his eyes followed her with inhuman gravity.

“Without you, my lungs don’t feel like breathing.”

“Without you, nothing matters. Not the sea, not Olympus, not immortality.” Junmyeon took her other hand, holding both to where his heart thrummed and breath made home in his lungs.

“Fate is cruel, I know that. But Fate is absolute, and you cannot run from it. I tried.” He continued, watching as Evangeline gazed up at him, her breath in sync with his.

“You love me?” She asked again. Disbelief coloured her voice, as if she could not fathom the fact that a being such as him could feel such passion for her. Junmyeon put her musings to rest.

“I love you.” He repeated. He would repeat it as many time as he needed to, until those words made a home in his mouth, until they were engraved in the tissues and sinew of her heart; until her mortal red thread turned golden and godly.

“I love you too.” Evangeline's voice was clear as crystal when it rung through the halls, through the Seas and through him, tugging at his heart, pulling at his lifeline, twisting the knots in it until they were shapeless and impossible to untangle.

“What now?” She asked, and Junmyeon wasted no time to kiss her.

“Whatever you want.” He whispered against her lips.

“I don’t want to take you away from your life. I don’t want you to have to choose between me or the ones you love.” He confessed. Mortals had families, lives they needed to live. They were not made for immortality.

“You’re the one I love.” She looked hi  in the eyes, falling into the hurricane that swirled there, now slow and careful rather than destructing.

“Marry me.” Junmyeon stated. With gleeful eyes he watched as Evangeline moved her face away from his, completely taken aback.

“Excuse me?” She asked, knowing full well that even at their age, marriage after nine months of knowing each other was not the best idea. It was quite a terrible idea actually.

“Not now, when you're ready.” Junmyeon clarified, eyes still sparkling as he resumed peppering kisses all over her face.

“You said I’m mortal.” She looked at him confused again, and he caressed her cheek.

“Not if you marry me. Once our threads become tied, yours will turn to gold, you will become a goddess.” Junmyeon remembered Yixing and Idalia. It was a grand wedding. Olympus was decked in gold, flowers bloomed in every crevice and the sun shone so bright, so perfectly that Junmyeon himself could not believe his eyes. He remembered Jongdae and his bride, their wedding brightened by lightning and decked in diamonds and silver and plants so emerald he thought they were jewels. He remembered the unbreakable golden bands created in his forge for these occasions. Who would forge his wedding rings? Kyungsoo who would pull them from the earth? Yixing who would weave them from sunlight? Chanyeol, who would craft them in a supernova or the heart of a volcano? Either way they would be eternal and final and binding.

“Goddess of what?” Evangeline kissed one corner of his mouth, and then the other.

“Seaweed? Clown fish? Does it matter?” He muttered, not really knowing what would happen. It was the Fates, after all that made these kind of decisions. In this, he was powerless.

“Junmyeon!” She smacked his chest lightly and he laughed. The noise carried, cacophonous and full through the water as pure joy bubbled in his chest.

“ Calm seas. The Goddess of calm seas.” He proposed, his smile never faltering. If he had his way she would rule the world, but balance was hard to break and calmness easy to seek. 

Evangeline kissed his lips, hands now threading through his hair. He caressed her cheeks, fitting his mouth to hers.

Just this once, Junmyeon thought, just this once; Fate had been kind.

[cosmocove]

some bobbles (+ two unfinished things)

[a-space-lizard]

Being neck-deep in a magnus archives hyperfixation while also going back to writing destiny fics featuring the exo stranger before her name reveal (and thus referring to her as The Stranger) is a bit of mental whiplash

[xerceii]

God’s Eye - PART 1 & 2

Pairing: Chanyeol/OC

Genre: Fantasy, Action, romance

TW/Warnings: 18+ included some gore, a scene with vomit, violence, murder, smut in future chapters, multiple sexual conversations, religious talk relating to God and the devil

Plot: Ahn Jung is a 25 year old office worker who underwent eye transplant surgery, she never thought that the donor would be a demon.

Note:

Testing to see if I want to start posting fics on tumblr again or continue linking to other sites 🤔 so here’s part 1 and 2 combined to test the waters

Click here for master post

___________

The faint beeping of the machine was the only sound she could hear for a while. It kept a slow rhythmic pace that mimicked her heart rate. It was insufferable. The endless sound reminded her that she was alive yet couldn't do anything but wait. Leaving her to her own thoughts... or so she thought-

Ahn could see images behind closed lids. They were fast and few but she saw them. Flashes of fire, of an old city she didn't recognize and even faces. Faces so beautiful she wondered exactly where this place was?

But... she could see.

Finally she was told to sit up. Ahn sat up and felt the bandages around her eyes loosen and unwrap. The doctor told her specific instructions which she didn't hear... No, she was too busy being nervous. Her heart pounded and her hands started clamming. What if her body rejected the donor? What if something had gone wrong and she can see even less than before? Or what if she looked funny now? They had told her the eye color would change. She didn't want that. She was Ahn, the girl with the pretty brown eyes that let everyone know it was okay to approach her.

That let everyone know she wouldn't judge them. She'd want to be their friend. Soft brown eyes like the color of Christmas pine trees, or fallen autumn leaves. That's the way her mom had described them. She always loved that description. It made her feel as if just by looking into her eyes.... You could smell cinnamon and taste eggnog.

You couldn't now.

The sound of cameras clicking brought her out of her depressing trance. The bandages were off, glasses immediately placed on her eyes.

"I wanted to see them!" Her mother whined.

"You can later on." The doctor explained. "After a while she'll be able to wear clear glasses, but she'll need an eye shield for now."

"Did they actually change?"

"Yes." The doctor sounded almost embarrassed to admit it as if he had any way of stopping that process. Obviously he didn't. "They're a clear blue now."

Her parents gasped and she gripped the bedsheets.

Oh well.

It wouldn't look good on her but at least she's going to have better vision now.

Ahn looked around the room. The glasses dimmed the lighting and it was still a bit blurry but she could tell there was a difference. A huge one actually. Things were their actual distance, the outline of everything could be seen and faces- everyone's faces were distinct, though the blurriness would take it away every so often. It had worked though. It made her hopeful. It brought her back to normal. Ahn jumped up and everyone panicked fearing she might fall over.

"I'm fine." Her hand raised to stop anyone from grabbing her. "Better than fine actually, It worked!"

"You'll be a bit sore for the next few days. You should take it easy."

She nodded and stretched. Ahn didn't know how long she had been under the knife but her body definitely did. It was cramped and stiff in all the worst areas. She needed to move her legs, start walking or running or whatever. Letting out a groan, she smiled at everyone who was looking at her. Which was everyone in the room. "I'll be fine, I just want to get out of here. I'm good to leave right?"

"Technically yes." The doctor frowned. "As long as you follow the instructions."

She nodded not really knowing any of them. "I will! I'll get a paper for them though, right?"

He nodded and she didn't need to hear anymore. Ahn walked out of the hospital room in her gown, happy to just get out of there. She hated standing still, she hated doing nothing. It was weird but she wanted to dance. Her socks slid against the hospital's smooth white floor. It wasn't exactly dancing but it was the most she could do without being labeled crazy.

Ahn took the stairs, even skipping some of the last ones and jumping off. This was going to be great, she could finally see better which meant Requiem might take her back... hopefully. If she talked to Baekhyun, he might let her.

Leaving through the exit doors, Ahn walked up to the receptionist desk. "Ahn Jung."

"Just Ahn?" The woman at the front desk looked at her weirdly. Ahn nodded, not wanting to explain that her parents became lazy trying to name her and settled on a last name for a first name. It was a never-ending fight between them. While the computer clicked away looking for her information, Ahn suddenly felt light headed. Maybe she had pushed herself too far.

Her eyes hurt too.

"Ma'am are you okay?"

What?

"Ahn!" She heard her mother somewhere very far away.

Nope. She was right beside her on the ground. When did she even fall?

Shit. Shit. Shit. Everyone was rushing towards her. Her eyes closed and they felt a little better. A flash of the city from before lit behind her eyes. This time she saw walls that once were probably cream in color, the intricate roof work and paint all destroyed. The sky above was red and loomed over her like some kind of warning. It was terrifying but she kept looking at the image. Her body was picked up.

"She'll have to stay a couple more hours just in case." Her doctor explained.

No...

She couldn't keep doing nothing. Ahn couldn't keep laying down. It was torture. "I'll be fine-" she groaned. "I can't keep laying down! How long was it anyways? A day? Two days!?"

"Dramatic as always Ahn." Her mother shook her head. "The surgery was only an hour."

Oh.

She felt her face flush at the embarrassment at that and let herself be carried back towards her room. Her head tilted back and she opened her eyes slowly. There was a crowd watching her, but one in particular stood out. A tall man with pink hair and a ridiculous fuzzy pink coat. That wasn't what stood out though, it was his expression, he was glaring at her. He looked like he was close to throwing the chair next to him at her. His brows were furrowed and his eyes wide.

Damn what did I do? She thought, closing her eyes. Maybe it wasn't towards her. She heard the ding of the elevator and the doors closing. Her feet twitched wanting to walk again.

Go to sleep...

it'll make time go by faster.

So she did. From the mix of pain and embarrassment, Ahn was able to fall asleep during the elevator ride.

                                 ______

When she awoke it was nighttime. Ahn didn't know until she took off the stupid eye covers and replaced them with her tinted glasses. She had been strapped down so she would be forced to sleep upright. They hadn't done it hard enough to make it impossible to move, just so her sleeping form wouldn't shift around.

Tugging on one end undid the straps on her arms, they quickly fell to the side. Putting on the glasses, she looked around.

The hospital room was dark and her parents were gone. They probably decided she was fine enough to spend the night alone. The only light that creeped in was from the moon itself, and all the machines hooked up to her. It was a plain old hospital room, yet why did it look creepier at night? The wooden closet used for storage was opened by an inch and it felt like she was being watched. There was no light outside in the hallway either. Her belongings had been thrown on the visitors chairs so she could dress.

Ahn sat up, untying her feet and hopping down. The floor was cold despite it being summer. The AC cranked up too high. She ran a hand through her tangled hair and walked towards her clothes. It's the same ones she had arrived in today. A pair of jeans and an old T-shirt she didn't mind if it got lost or dirty. It was a T-shirt that had been with her since middle school, also her favorite black sandals. Her hands reached towards her back to take off the hospital gown but stopped.

The closet... it really felt like she was being watched.

Her eyes shifted towards the bed. Maybe she could call a nurse in. Press the button and not be alone anymore. The glasses shifted down to her nose and she had to push them up. No. There's probably no one in there. That'd be two times she'd embarrass herself. The closet door creaked beside her.

Only darkness showed inside. It didn't help that these stupid glasses darkened everything even more. She wanted to take them off, but she shouldn't. Ahn sighed and walked towards the wardrobe. Her hands pressed lightly against the open door.

What if there was someone inside?

Biting her bottom lip, she opened it. If there was someone inside, well her legs were probably faster than theirs. She was good at running and dodging and anything that included movement and physical activity. All those years of sports and dancing would pay off.

The door swung open, hitting the wall in the process. Inside it-

Was nothing.

Just an empty wardrobe with a couple of hangers and towels in case she wanted to shower. Someone must have left them for her and accidentally forgot to close it completely. Ahn gasped in relief, bringing her hand to her chest. Thank god. It would have sucked to have to run from someone at this time of night.

She was suddenly thirsty.

As if fear itself dehydrated her.

Walking towards her bag, she pulled out two dollars and left her room. The hallways were completely dark but at the end of them the vending machines were on. If she turned another corner after them there would be the emergency stairs and the elevators. Civilization. Maybe she could go downstairs and hang out at the cafeteria. No, it was probably closed.... The lobby then, she could people watch and maybe find a nurse or someone to talk to.

Ahn stepped in front of the vending machine looking at her choices. Chips, sodas, water bottles, candy....

Candy. She grinned and put in the first dollar, quickly getting the one that had the most chocolate. Then, got herself a drink. A coke. She needed sweets and junk right now, especially after that scare.

Her items fell and she bent down to grab them from the tray with a loose door. That's when she noticed a pair of pale feet beside her. Ahn looked up to see a boy looking down at her. He was blonde, blue eyed, around her height so not exactly tall for a man. He was pretty though.

"Sorry I didn't mean to stand so close!" He backed up a couple steps away. "I was just curious to see what'd you'd get."

Ahn smiled, taking out her things. "It's fine, I get curious about things like that too." She straightened up showing him her coke and chocolate bar. He nodded, seeming happy that she wasn't rude to him. Ahn moved out of the way so he could get something himself.

He got the same exact things.

"It's better to eat junk food with another person." He grinned. His hair was long enough to reach his shoulders and he was skinny. She could see the bones of his shoulder blades even through his hospital gown. His eyes had dark circles under them and his nose was pretty.

"Cool look you're sporting by the way." He unwrapped his candy and started eating.

"Huh? Oh." Ahn laughed, touching her glasses. "Eye transplant surgery. I got out today but decided to push it and ended up earning myself a couple more hours in this shit hole."

"Transplant?!" He gaped. "Did it hurt?"

Ahn shook her head. "Not really, but they hurt afterwards. They're sore and feel a bit dry."

He nodded. "You have to put in the eye drops. They'll help the recovery."

She sighed and decided to sit down. Her back pressed against the wall while the boy took the spot beside her. The vending machine flickered indicating it was old, and probably only a year away from giving out. Her feet were a lot bigger than his.... Not in length but... the weight of them. Hers looked pretty healthy, while his were as bony as his shoulders.

They looked frail, weak.

"If I'm rude feel free to smack me-" Ahn started. "But why are you here?"

"Me?" The boy asked, drinking from his coke. He leaned his head back as if trying to decide how to tell her. "To put it simply-" His skeletal hand touched his chest. "Heart failure."

"I- that must have been difficult." Ahn frowned. She couldn't imagine herself not being able to move around. To be limited to just the walls of this hospital. Her hands gripped the can of coke. It crackled under the pressure. She had it good. There was no room for complaining. She wanted to kick herself for her antics earlier.

"You know-" The boy laughed quietly. "You're the first person who hadn't told me they're sorry."

"Was that bad?!" She panicked. He shook his head immediately, stopping her from actually doing it.

"No! No. It was nice. It's all I ever heard so... it's a nice change in pace. Yes it is difficult, but an apology won't do anything." He finished his drink and continued snack time by finishing his chocolate. Ahn frowned, not happy with his situation. He seemed like a good guy. People don't deserve this.

"Did you know them?" He asked.

"Know who?"

"Your donor."

She shook her head. "No. It was anonymous. They didn't want their information to be given out." Ahn grabbed the boys empty can and wrapper, standing up, she went to throw them away in the trash can near the vending machine.

"Thanks."

"It's nothing." She waved it away and sat back down. The flickering started again and Ahn decided to finally drink her coke. Pulling the tab, she smiled hearing the click. A fresh coke, they always tasted so good. The fizzy drink touched her tongue and fell down her throat, calming the nerves she still had from the closet incident.

The boy looked at her. Blue eyes seeming to become more lifeless. They were clouded over as if he were in a weird daze. "Do you believe in heaven?"

Ahn stopped drinking. "Maybe?"

"I do." He muttered his voice was now soft and thoughtful. "Heaven and hell. Good and bad."

She looked at him and he held his heart again, blonde locks falling over his eyes. "I want to go to heaven. I don't have much time left but... I want to do everything possible so that I can get into heaven."

"I'm sure you will." She muttered with a mouthful of chocolate. "You seem like a good guy."

"How old are you?" He asked her.

"Twenty five."

"I'm seventeen."

Ouch. He was young. Ahn finished her own food and went to throw them away. When she turned back, the boy was standing. He looked like he was about to fall over. His palm was placed against the wall.

"Do you need help going back to your room?" She hurried towards him.

He shook his head, breaths coming out shallow. "I want to show you my favorite place here. Do you want to come?"

"Sure, but do you think you can make it?"

He nodded. "If you help me I can. It's been a while since I've made a friend. I don't want to go to bed yet."

Ahn smiled at the friend comment, also happy to be using some sort of strength again. She wrapped her arms around the boys and carried half his weight. Which wasn't much. He held on tightly as he told her the directions to go in. First into the elevator and to the top floor, then turn to the right hall, the left led to the rooftop but the right- she didn't know. She had never been here.

There were a couple more rooms up here, mainly the more expensive ones that VIP patients would want. There was also an abandoned desk, some closets for equipment-

"There-" The boy pointed. His breathing had become worse. Ahn made sure to carry more of him now. He definitely wouldn't have been able to make it this far without her. He pointed towards the far end, the last room left. Room 999. They walked up to it and she turned the knob.

It was an old hospital room just like any other. Except the windows were huge here. Most of the walls were windows. The moonlight bathed the entire place in its glow. The floor was cement which was probably one of the reasons it had been abandoned. There was also a bathtub in the middle, it was outdated. Probably from fifty years ago. The hoses and handles had been ripped off but she could see they used to be gold. Whatever hadn't broken off indicated that.

On the ground lay arrangements of different hospital robes and equipment. She almost tripped over a stethoscope.

"Careful-" He told her. "There's abandoned needles here."

Then why would we go here?! She thought, regretting everything. These stupid glasses. They didn't help anything. Ahn took him towards the windows at the farthest end of the room, he gasped, falling to his knees. He pointed north and her eyes widened. From the rooftop you could only see the city. From here, you could see the mountains, the line of trees and the clouds that barely touched them. The moon seemed closer here too. It was beautiful.

Ahn pressed her face towards the glass, taking it all in. So so so beautiful. Why didn't she realize how close the forest was from this hospital? She needed to take a hike down there. Maybe even a run. It would be good if Requiem wanted to shoot some dance videos here too. Maybe this boy can meet them, have some friends before he... she stopped the thought.

"I never did ask you your name." Ahn turned to look down at him. He sat cross legged staring at the entrance of the door. "Gabriel." He whispered.

Biblical. That would explain his need to go to heaven. He was religious. Or raised in a religious household. Ahn nodded. "It's a cool name."

He wasn't paying attention to her anymore. She followed his gaze towards the door.

Her heart dropped.

The blood in her veins ran cold.

Two men in black robes were chaining up the door. Another was putting something in the bathtub. A cross. He was putting a silver cross in the bathtub.

Ahn stood up, putting herself in front of Gabriel. "What the hell are you doing?" Her voice came out more nervous than expected. They ignored her finishing up the door. Ahn looked around, there was no other way to escape. Even breaking the window wouldn't work. It was a long fall and they would die. They were trapping them, and no one traps another person for a good reason. This was bad. Very bad. Every hair of hers stood as if her body was trying to warn her of what she already knew.

"Answer me!" She shrieked at them. They didn't. There was a pipe bar next to her, she was going to defend herself with it but- Ahn took off the glasses, throwing them aside. She needed to see better. It was cloudy but it was better than her original eyesight. She could see everything on the ground, and see in actual color instead of the brownish hue the glasses gave her.

It was risky for her eyes but... they needed to get out of here. Ahn could face the consequences later. "Gabriel-" She whispered. "Can you run?"

Gabriel looked up at her. "No."

Shit.

"Here's what I'll do, I'll try to knock as many as I can down with that pipe over there. I'm strong so it should be easy. You go and unchain the door. If you get it open, run. Go find help. I'll be behind."

Gabriel frowned at her. "You'd protect me?"

Would she? The answer was yes but she was scared to. She had never been put in a situation like this before. Ahn was agile. Good on her feet. She'd give it her all. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself. "On three-" She told him quietly.

The men in black robes all turned to her as if they heard. That's fine. That's fine. Even better. They turned their attention on her and when she got the weapon they'd panic and try to take it from her. They would ignore Gabriel unchaining the door and they could get out of this.

"One."

"Two."

"She's going to grab the pipe! Stop her!" Gabriel shouted.

Ahn turned to look at him in shock. She didn't have time to be heartbroken by the betrayal. She dived towards it while they all had a two second start to get it from her. Ahn was closer, she grabbed the pipe and swung violently, managing to hit one of them. He fell back.

Keep going!

Ahn swung and spun herself in a circle so it was harder to grab her, all while walking towards the door.

No use. They were smart. One managed to grab it from her and it almost knocked her down. He threw the pipe away and it clattered, crashing into a box full of old syringes. Ahn took off running. They chased after her and she bent down to grab a couple needles. She threw them their way and they dodged.

The needles almost hit Gabriel instead and he covered his face with his arms. He looked angry now. Not like the sweet boy she had been talking to for the past forty minutes. Ahn was crying out of fear. It burned her eyes to do so. In fact, her vision was getting worse now. There was little time left before they gave out.

Ahn threw more needles and anything that was dangerous enough to be hit with. Finally she passed the bathtub, it had been filled with red liquid. Crosses floated at the top. It sent a ripple of fear through her so strong that her feet faltered. She had to grip the edge of the bathtub to keep from falling.

Pulling herself up, Ahn kept going until she made it towards the door. Her hands fumbled on the chains trying to find where it started and where it ended. It was no use. A labyrinth of metal that couldn't be undone unless you had an axe.

Or a key.

There was probably a key on one of them. Five figures ran towards her. The sixth was still on the floor crying from the pain she had caused.

Quickly scanning all five people, Ahn saw what she needed. All of them had crosses around their necks except one. He had a key. Pushing herself off the door for more momentum, Ahn turned around and ran back towards Gabriel. They all seemed confused by the action. Good. Gabriel stared wide eyed as she picked up a needle, and slid towards him. The cement burned and scarred her knees, scraping off skin in the process. It didn't matter. It was the fastest way.

Ahn wrapped an arm around Gabriel's thin figure, pressing the tip of the needles on his neck. "Stop or I'll kill him!"

She wouldn't. She couldn't. She hoped they couldn't tell her bluff. The five figures stopped in front of them gasping for air. Her knees ached, but worst of all... her eyes. Her eyes burned. It was over. They were clouding over. They were too dry. Ahn had done everything she wasn't supposed to do.

To her dismay, Gabriel nodded, his head bowing low. "It's okay. I'm going to die anyway. Get her."

Ahn dropped the needle while they all started closing in again. She couldn't escape. Her eyes weren't capable of crying anymore. They all grabbed her and she let out an ear deafening scream. A dozen of them actually. Ahn thrashed in their arms, begging for them to let go of her. They didn't.

They were going to kill her. Or kidnap her? Or something bad.

"Please!" She begged. "Someone help me!"

No one came. Why was no one coming!? Her legs kept kicking trying to free herself from their hold but it was no use. They took her towards the bathtub and dropped her roughly inside. She was met with thick red water and crosses that dug into her spine as her body hit the bottom of the tub.

The sixth robed person came over, helping them hold her down. She couldn't breathe. Her body begged for more oxygen. Ahn gasped for air as they held her head. Water kept coming inside. No, not water. The taste was too thick. Too metallic. Oh god.

No.

No. No. No.

It was blood. She was in blood. She shrieked again, the sound gurgling with the blood entering her. "Stay still!" One of them yelled at her. Gabriel came up behind them and Ahn glared at him. As much as she could. Her eyes couldn't see much anymore. It was burning too. The blood burned the surface of her skin. Her body soon became too overheated and she didn't see any scarring but it felt like there would be if she stayed any longer.

"Start now!" One of them yelled.

"Help!" Ahn cried, getting a small towel shoved in her mouth in the process.

A man stood up and took out what seemed to be a Bible. "We are here to exorcise a poor victim of possession. May the heavens help us!"

Victim? Possession? Heaven?

Ahn screamed but it was only muffled by the towel. She panted instead, wishing she could've seen her friends one last time. Wishing she could've danced one last time. She wished for a lot of things actually. She should've been nicer to her parents. Should've invited them to her new apartment more.

"Help!" Ahn screamed but it didn't sound like anything.

"Stop screaming! All the ones on this floor are in on it." Gabriel spoke quietly. "It's to help you. Your donor... he was possessed before he died. The demon stayed in the eyes you have now. Stay still and we can help you."

"Fuck off!" Ahn cursed at him.

"The members of the church had been keeping close tabs on them. When they disappeared we noticed it's because they had been picked for your surgery. You were the only one who received one today."

"I don't care! I don't care! I don't care!" Ahn kept repeating, hating the way the blood burned. The man in front of her kept saying words of heaven and hell, god and angels. She couldn't hear through her own screaming. There had to be at least one person in this damn hospital who decided to check on the top floor. Just one good Samaritan.

"May the power of Christ compel you!" He shouted. There it was. That famous line that had been overused in horror movies. Ahn kept crying. "May the demon that rests on your shoulders show itself and repent for its sins!"

And then there was fire.

PART 2 - All a dream… Maybe?

Pure lines of blazing hot fire spread across the room. Like slithering snakes they circled around everyone. No, not snakes. It was a tornado of fire. It was unbearably hot and despite being in a tub full of blood, Ahn was already sweating. Outside the ring she could see that the flames weren't touching anything else.

Only focusing on them.

She kept screaming, but it wasn't only her who was screaming now. The robed men were yelling. Their clothes were on fire. They all let go of her trying to put it out. One shoved her out of the bathtub so he could get in and put out the inferno that currently devoured his body. Ahn met the ground roughly, her body ached but she was able to take out the towel from her mouth.

Gabriel fell on his ass beside her, he started sobbing and backing away as if he'd just seen a ghost. Ahn turned around to see there was a new person there with them.

A man.

"Ahh. You're the ones who invited me yet you're treating me like this?" He crossed his arms. "That's not very nice is it?"

All her attackers had been able to put out the fire on them. Now they wailed and shielded themselves from him as if he was going to kill them all. Wait, she had seen him before. Ahn took in his features again. Pink hair, tall, except instead of the ridiculous coat he was wearing a striped turtleneck and a leather jacket this time.

"I should teach you all a lesson. What is this your fourth time trying to exorcise me?"

The man met her eyes and smiled, a small dimple showing on his cheek. "But time is of the essence. We need to go."

Ahn couldn't speak. Her throat burned from all yelling she had already done. The man ran up to her and picked her up easily, as if she weighed close to nothing. "Oh guess you'll be needing these too-" He held onto her with one hand while picking up her glasses with the other.

And then-

He jumped out the window, breaking it in the process with his shoulders. Ahn screamed a hoarse dry sound coming out of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. Glass shards fell around them as they fell. There's no way they were going to survive the fall. Her stomach flipped at the drop and her mind stopped working.

He laughed a low deep chuckle before she felt a large shove and a brand new unsettling feeling. It wasn't falling. They weren't falling anymore. Her hair was being plastered down. They were going... sideways? Ahn kept holding onto him, but decided to open her eyes a little. The world was nothing but a blur, but she could make out trees. They were going towards the forest.

How?

"Can I tell you something?" The guy asked.

She couldn't answer. Her voice was gone. Death. Death was all she could think about.

"Ahh...To be honest-" He continued. "I don't know how to land with someone in my arms."

As if on cue, Ahn felt them land roughly on the ground. The grip on her body tightened and he took the worst of it, using himself as a landing pad. Her head slammed against his chest and then was thrown off of him. Ahn didn't have time to call for help, crashing into the forest floor, her body rolled a couple times before she was able to stop. Pine needles and sticks poked her bare arms and her knees... she didn't even want to think of the state of them.

The man groaned beside her and her body went into a fit of violent coughs that only resulted in her throwing up soon after. Her vomit was red and brown from the chocolate earlier and the blood.

It was hot out here. Summer was always so hot even in the forest. Ahn wiped her mouth and tried standing up but the guy was faster. He shoved her back on the ground, rolling her so she was on her back. "Aish you seriously need to take care of my eyes better." He frowned, taking out eye drops from his pocket.

Ahn was too tired to fight it. He opened her eyes, letting a couple drops fall in. It hurt. A lot. Ahn tried shoving him away but he was stronger. "Unless you want to go back to the hospital, I suggest letting me help you."

The hospital. With that cult. No thank you. She calmed down, and the man wiped her eyes softly with the back of his sleeve. Finally he put on her glasses and groaned, falling beside her. "Stay like that for a while. It's better to be on your back during recovery."

The sky above them was dark and cloudy. You couldn't see the moon from down here. It was covered. "Who are you?" Ahn asked, wincing at her grandma voice. It sounded aged and raspy.

"Chanyeol?" He said it in the form of a question.

"Are you not sure or are you asking me if I'm Chanyeol?"

He sat up. "Interesting."

"What is?"

He sighed, clapping his hands once. "Do you know how to get home from here?"

"No!" Ahn tried sitting up but he narrowed his eyes warning her not to move. She continued laying down. "I don't but I can Uber."

"Uber what the hell is that?"

He didn't know?

"I can pay someone to drive me." She explained. "Through an app but-" A defeated sigh escaped her. "My phone was in my room."

"What's a phone?" His brows furrowed, looking impatient.

Was he pranking her? Ahn stood up, ignoring his warnings. "You know? To call someone? To text them?"

He blinked. "Oh a telephone."

"Yes. I need my telephone." The word sounded weird. No one used it anymore. Ahn coughed again and Chanyeol looked around.

"They were close to exorcising me this time." He ran a hand through his hair. "Ah, to put the blood of a lamb with holy water was a smart move."

At least it hadn't been a human then. Ahn decided she could live with it for now. She looked at her dirty arms, underneath the blood and mountain dirt she could see they were red. "Why did it burn me?"

"Because you're now part demon sadly. I cant believe they were given to someone so insignificant." He snorted and walked up to her. His eyes were blue and one was clear enough to almost be white. There was a shift in the wind and he grabbed her shoulders. "Close your eyes."

"What?"

"You idiot, do it now!" He spoke through gritted teeth.

Ahn decided to listen in a mix of fear and trust in him. She closed her eyes and they immediately felt better. The wind picked up and her hair blew in her face. She wanted to move it out but the man stopped her. "Whatever you do, don't open your eyes."

There were voices. Whispers around them. They were large in numbers and some were closer than others. They ranged from low and high tones. It was suddenly cold too. Ahn shivered and the grip on her shoulders tightened. It was scary. This was too scary. She wanted to run. Ahn wanted to open her eyes and run. Just like before with the men, something felt off. Like there was a presence here that wanted to hurt her. She gasped, the sound coming off shaky and scared.

The voices stopped.

Everything seemed to stop. Even the wind. As if waiting for her next move. "Your Uber is going to have to wait-" He laughed under his breath. "Seems like everyone decided to be nosy tonight."

Chanyeol picked her up again and she decided to let him. He had already saved her once. Her arms clung to his shoulders. "Hold on." He whispered. She felt him shift and they were in the air again. Ahn bit her lip and he kept moving. She didn't know where, or what but it seemed to be fast. As fast as a car. "You can open your eyes but don't look back! They're chasing us."

Ahn shook her head, refusing to see anything. She didn't want to find out what was chasing them or where exactly they were going at such a speed. Instead she thought,

Okay... he's a demon.

I have demon eyes?

Maybe this is a dream. Maybe that cult actually got to me and I'm dreaming. Or maybe it's an incredibly creative dream and I'm still in the hospital bed. There was never a Gabriel, and I never ate chocolate.

Maybe....

"All these houses look the same!" He muttered frustrated. Ahn opened her eyes. They were falling towards her street.

Didn't he not know how to land?

He didn't.

Chanyeol landed on the ground and lost his grip on her. He cursed and she fell off. Ahn rolled on the cement this time and almost crashed into a pole. The demon, on the other hand, was perfectly fine. He dusted off his hands watching her struggle to get up. "A sorry would have been nice!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Why should I apologize?"

Whatever. It was a dream. Ahn figured this was all a dream now, there was no way in hell her body could take this much damage in one day. She stood up, knees wobbling and walked towards her apartment. Chanyeol stared after her. "Tomorrow, I'll check in tomorrow. For now, put a ring of salt in your bedroom."

"Yeah, yeah." She muttered, too tired to fight with her dream.

He was suddenly in front of her and she crashed into his chest. He was very very tall.

"I mean it. At least do that."

She nodded. Guess it wouldn't hurt.

                              ————————

Chanyeol walked through the red gates being greeted by a bar full of idiot demons just like himself.

They all cheered at his entrance and some even sneered. He rolled his eyes and fell on a stool. This was going to be harder than he thought. The human was pretty healthy in a physical sense but she seemed to be a little too stupid. Instead of being scared of him, she had decided that he was a dream.

Though it helped running away.

He slammed his fist on the table and a demon named Kiol yelled at him. "Watch it! I just had those installed."

"I'm surprised this place is still running."

Kiol smiled at him. "It's been a while since you've been in the mortal world hasn't it? A lot has changed. Welcome back Chanyeol. It seems like everyone missed you."

He looked back at the guests. It was all demons but in their human form. They ranged in ages depending on when they were made into demons. One was as young as six. All of them were aware of his presence. All of them had been waiting for his return.

"They gave my eyes to some idiot human girl." He frowned. "She decided it was all a dream."

Kiol frowned, his human form was nothing short of intimidating. A bald headed six foot five man with tattoos covering every inch of his body. Chanyeol never understood why he went with that image when he could've been someone handsome... like himself. He grinned at his own compliment. Kiol said it was to scare any non demon customers away. Which was funny considering he was a high class demon. His power should be enough for that.

"How many are after her?" He asked.

"Too many. We almost got attacked in the forest but I was faster and stronger." Chanyeol sighed.

"Are you taking your eyes back?" Kai asked behind him. Chanyeol turned to look at him and they both grinned. Kai and Kiol two brothers who looked nothing alike yet had been demons for as long as he had been. They had met when there had been no such things as cars, or the internet or... Uber was it? Kai had burnt red eyelids that were a result of Chanyeol's curse that turned them into demons.

"I am." Chanyeol stood up. "Even if it kills her. I just have two problems.-"

"What is it?"

"She ruined them in a short amount of time. I have to wait for them to heal properly." He touched his eyelids. They were there in a spiritual sense. Not in a physical sense. Chanyeol could use his demon abilities to make himself look like a normal human. Like how he used to look thousands of years ago. "Also I can't rip them out of her because of that stupid law."

"Ahh..." Kai started thinking. "Humans over demons one?"

Chanyeol nodded. In the world of spirits there is a hierarchy. Demons in the lowest rank. Humans are weak and oblivious to the fact that they have so much control over them. They do though. It's the way God intended it. They have the power to get rid of them, to exorcise them, to make sure they never see light again. That also includes not being able to take his eyes back. That girl now owns them, they're part of her physical body and the only way for her to willingly give them up. "I'm going to do the contract with her."

"The king is back." Kai smiled.

He was.

_____________

1480 - Joseon dynasty:

Through the sounds of a leather whip, the sky above was a purple tint. It seemed to stretch into the horizon across the curved and sharpened grey rooftops. It touched the gold and green paint of the palace in such an artistic way that no painting done by any artist in the entire kingdom could replicate.

"Four more."

Chanyeol stared, lifeless, as the man in front of him was beaten. He didn't care. He had dared to back talk to him. Now he suffered the consequences. His father gave the commands. All he could do was watch and have fun with it.

Behind him, he heard a gasp. It was his mother. She had always been too weak for these situations, too kind. Chanyeol stood up, his red robes fluttering against the ground. From inside the castle lanterns had been lit up in the most beautiful of colors. Colors to represent an upcoming wedding.

His own.

The king stood, earning himself a good ten servants to come to his aid. They all tried helping him walk, some going as far as wanting to be used as a stepstool. Chanyeol rolled his eyes and stared back at the villager. He grew crops for the kingdom last he heard, he was hard working yet brash. He didn't care about the royal family or manners. All the good looking men were like that, including Chanyeol himself. Except Chanyeol was allowed to act like that. Through the scars and lashings he could make out the sharp features of his face, his long black hair fell towards the ground.

"He's going to get married soon! A crown prince should not be shown as being violent!" His mother fought for him.

"He is to be a king. A king shows no mercy. A king is strong." His father explained.

"Showing mercy is strength." She countered.

Chanyeol walked over to the beaten man and cocked his head to the side and smiled a crooked smile. "Do you agree? Mercy is strength?"

The man whimpered. Shielding himself from him. Not so tough now was he...Chanyeol took out a small golden blade, gifted to him by his friend Kiol. "I will show you mercy then-" He smiled, diving the blade into the side of his neck. A couple of women screamed behind him. Blood splattered on his face and he looked back. His mother had fainted, his dad looked proud but... his soon to be wife looked horrified. Chanyeol dropped the knife and raised his hands. "It was either that or torture."

Sooyun cried, though the tears didn't fall. They gathered in her eyes as she nodded and bowed to him. "I am grateful to be wed to someone as merciful as you."

She was lying for her own sake. Chanyeol nodded and dismissed her. His dad patted him on the back. "You are going to be a great king."

He wasn't so sure about that.

[maiverie]

THATS NOT EVEN BAD FR. MY WRITING AT 13 YEARS OLD WAS INSANE!!!! THOSE BAD BOY ALPHA JUNGKOOK FICS DIDNT PLAY.

HAJDJWJSJA SHIT THE FUCK UP ITS SO BAD R U KIDDING ME 😭😭😭😭😭

[eosofhearts]

lighting study that got WAYY out of hand. rivals in the club what will they do

[starlightkun]

i need pink fairy floss yeonjun-blue-hour-era coloured hair on jungwoo IMMEDIATELY

although atp i have no expectations for sm, every morning i wake up and a new forest fire has started in kwangya 💀

literally everytime i wake up lately i have to do a good 5 - 10 minutes of research to get context for the absolutely insane asks i have in my inbox abt sm 😭 it's a goddamn dumpster fire over there

also jungwoo very briefly had bright pink hair but i agree it wasnt neon like yeonjun's 😔 tho in strawberry sunday (which im guessing is where this ask came from??) i was imagining more of this kind of pink

[forlix]

‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝・h.j.

— stars flare brightest in the absence of light, and you see his clearer than day.

words・6.4k

pairing・han jisung x female reader

genres・college!au, friends with benefits to lovers, snowed in trope, smut, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED, angst, ANGST, you have been warned, hurt/comfort, i can't write normal fluff to save my life, happy ending!!!, semi-slow burn

warnings・depictions of insomnia, recurring nightmares, graphic violence, character death (in the nightmare), fears of abandonment and falling in love, alcohol consumption, humans helping each other heal. smut warnings under the cut

playlist・stay - acoustic by jonah baker・all of me by big gigantic・babydoll (speed) by ari abdul・oasis by exo・volcano by han

a/n・hi, here's my second installment of winter falls. writing this was immensely challenging and twice as meaningful, so feedback would be greatly appreciated. thank you to my may for being so fucking instrumental in piecing together this rollercoaster—this one is for you, i love you. thanks to my sahar for everything, always and forever. and thanks to all of you for being here. happy new year ♡

smut warnings・spitplay, unprotected piv, please practice safe sex!!!, car sex, dirty talk, jisung's dick game is kinda crazy, squirting, lots of aftercare

Every time Jisung closes his eyes, he sees somebody’s back.

It’s leaving. Traipsing somewhere he can’t follow. He tries to chase it—he always does, he never learns—but the premise doesn’t so much as surface before the ghosts circling around his ankles go for his throat instead. They snare him by the shoulders, force him to his knees, slam his forehead into the permafrost hard enough to break bone. They make sure the next time he tries to move will be the last.

So he remains, keeled over in the cold, until tearwater clings to his lower lashes in small icicles. Until bloodstained snow coats his lips like the manifestation of a curse. Until the back has disappeared.

Who does it belong to? He’s left to wonder. Where is it going?

Why can’t I follow?

Then he wakes up.

No longer does he lay awake for hours afterwards, scouring the dream’s every frame for his answers.

Now, he tosses and turns in clammy sheets until his exhaustion wins.

Now, he welcomes sleep like a miracle granted by some pitying god.

You see him.

Through a living room packed with red-faced partygoers and dissected by oscillating strobe lights, albeit, but you see him anyways. 

Jisung can barely make out the rest of your face—he blames the lighting, or the soju, or both—but your eyes alone turn him to glass. Not a fancy vase through which the world distorts, but a simple pane that puts him and his ghosts on full display.

He hopes you like horror movies.

Felix knows you, because of course he does, and Jisung has never been happier to call the extroverted Australian his friend than when you come over to say hi. You stumble out of the crowd all smudged makeup and sweaty skin, your figure hugged by a short black dress with two diamond-shaped openings just above your hips, your glossy lips curved in a drunken smile. Jisung immediately wants it against his mouth.

Instead, it disappears behind his friend as you pull him into a quick hug. A few wisps of your hair dust over Jisung’s arm, momentarily replacing the smells of grease and vodka with cherry blossoms and vanilla.

“Lix, hey!”

“Darling, it’s good to see you! Feels like it’s been ages.”

“I know, right? How are you? How is everything?”

“Good, thank you. Just happy the semester’s over.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Then you go to lift your drink and discover thin air in its place. “Or I won’t. Whoops.”

This prompts Jisung’s first contribution to the conversation—and his first effortless laugh in a long while.

“Eventful night, huh?”

He meets your gaze from all of two feet away this time, and his knees buckle under him. That gaze, fuck. So clear and true, like a prism of glass refracting light into a rainbow. He would let you refract him a thousand times over if he had any light to give.

“Maybe,” you giggle. “Seems I’m a little too happy the semester’s over.”

“Wanna not get a drink to celebrate?”

Your expression flickers. Not in a bad way, more like you hadn’t expected him to ask so soon—or for yourself to have your answer so quickly.

A strobe light catches right under your eye and refracts the color in your blushing face. A rainbow.

“I’d like that.”

He tilts his head towards the kitchen. You give Felix’s elbow a light squeeze before moving past him; he gives Felix a glimpse of his growing smile before falling into step behind you. The blonde shakes his head, throws back the rest of his beer, then swivels at the sound of someone calling his name from across the foyer.

Felix will get drunk enough to forget the sight of you leading Jisung up the stairs, two bottles of pink lemonade tucked under your arm. Nothing stronger, as promised.

Jisung asks his question an entire minute after he intends to. “Where are we going, by the way?”

“Somewhere I can see your pretty face without having to squint,” you reply, and his stomach tumbles like a schoolboy with a valentine.

You don’t stop at the second floor. Instead, you nudge open a door Jisung swears just materialized to his left and emerge into the night air.

It’s warm for December, but he’s still met with chilly winds licking down the sides of his neck. That’s not the only reason he shudders, though. Below his feet, he finds a metal platform akin to that of a fire escape. Above his head, a staircase that looks one forceful step away from dropping off the side of the building.

You turn towards it. 

In a hurry, he sputters, “I’m, uh—I’m not sure about this.”

A beat passes. Your hold on his wrist loosens, not to let go, just to trace wordless reassurance down the back of his hand. Your fingers feel perfect sliding into the spaces between his, like drops of honey in the craters of soufflé pancakes.

“It’s safer than it looks, I promise.”

Jisung heaves a sigh. It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.

You’re right, though. The iron rungs are surprisingly rigid beneath his feet, and the two of you make it to the roof with no trouble. He does stumble when you pull him up onto the gravel, but it’s intentional, a purposeful blunder to have you closer. To snag another glimpse of that blush, another trace of that floral vanilla.

“Sorry,” he whispers almost directly upon your lips. And that earns him all three.

The next hour evades him for the most part, and Jisung is pissed about it. He’s with the woman of his dreams under a sky so clear it’s almost lustrous and he’s too shitfaced to recollect when he gave you his hoodie to wear; what you said that made his lungs capsize with how hard he laughed; how you ended up so close to each other, your legs strewn over his lap, his hands tracing over your thighs.

Thankfully, he remembers a few things. He remembers how frighteningly easy you are to talk to; he remembers your habit of smacking his stomach when you get flustered; he remembers you getting flustered a lot. He remembers the timbres of your different laughs and how your stunning features crinkle with each. He remembers feeling like a pane of glass in front of you, just like he had downstairs, and he remembers liking it, somehow. Liking the way you see through him, the way you allow him to just exist as he is. Liking the way you acknowledge his ghosts with such nonchalance, inviting them over for tea and biscuits.

He wants to remember everything about you.

It’s not often he wants to remember anything.

Eventually, your conversation comes to a natural close. In its absence, Jisung notices that the alcoholic sludge in his brain has largely diffused; with it, the rumbling bass of the party below. The full moon hangs at its highest point, blanketing the two of you with anticipatory silence, nudging you towards the only topic you’ve yet to breach.

He meets your gaze again, from all of two inches away this time, and his insides twist.

“You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”

You blink at him, not following. Then he leans his forehead against yours, lets his eyes flicker to your mouth with such unbridled want that you’re instantly dizzy—and no longer confused.

Regret pools in your eyes moments before they close. “Yes, I think so.”

Your lips are so, so close that he can feel the air shift between you when they move, can feel the soft warmth emanating from them. Jisung pulls away before he does anything stupid.

You do the stupid thing for him.

You push his shoulders to the plaster behind him, push yourself onto his lap with a swing of your body and a slotting of your legs on either side of him. 

The plush of your thighs hugging his hips, the curves of your breasts pressed against his chest, Jisung tries to stare up at you, perplexed, aroused. But you’re so close that he can’t, so he settles with whispering upon the underside of your chin, “what are you—”

“Gimme your lemonade.”

The authoritative words come out in a slurred haze, and he all but hastens to oblige. 

You pluck the plastic bottle from his wavering grasp. His empty hand hovers as if uncertain where to go. But matters as trivial as hand placement drop off his mind’s precipice as he watches you unscrew the cap, the slope of your neck illuminated by spindly moonlight, and without thinking he pushes his hands beneath the hem of your—his—hoodie.

The skin of your waist is warm and smooth where his fingertips are cold and calloused, the juxtaposition unimportant in your reciprocal desires to touch and be touched.

“Open,” you murmur.

His jaw goes slack, firstly from pure disbelief. Then, obedience. The dark locks that obstruct his vision of you fall away as his head meets the brick half-wall behind him, as if the midnight breeze itself mandated their removal.

You pour some of the pink liquid past Jisung’s parted lips. Stray rivulets slip down his cheek and vanish beneath his neckline. You break eye contact to follow their path with dilated pupils and fluttering lashes. With unadulterated desire.

He swallows, gently, and feels the sweet substance surround his tonsils.

He swallows, forcefully, when you wrap your lips around the bottle, the plastic still slathered in his spit.

The swig you take is long, deep. Your throat bobs and your eyes close as if you’re savoring a finely-aged nectar. Then your lips are popping off the opening with a soft thwock, leaving a thick strand of saliva to suspend, suspend, suspend until the very second it’s about to drop, which is when you collect the residue with a deft swipe of your tongue.

“A placeholder,” you breathe, and Jisung’s head careens. A shared bottle. An indirect kiss.

“You’re a monster,” he croaks.

You giggle and lean down, curling a hand around his cheek, pressing a wet kiss to his Adam’s apple.

“Tomorrow, if we’re both sober…”

One, two, three pecks up the length of his jaw.

“...and you still remember my address…”

A suckle to the lobe of his ear.

“...you can kiss me, for real.”

A trembling breath.

“And then some.”

Jisung moans, loudly.

Thankfully, he remembers a few things.

He shows up at your place shortly after sunset the next day. You swing open the door, your face already alight with your world-ending smile.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Then he’s kissing you like a man famished.

Jisung learns to love your back, that night. He loves its dips and curves, loves its rise and fall. Loves how it arches into him, how it looks drenched in his cum. It’s the back of his dreams.

The back in his dreams keeps walking.

Jisung has never liked winter.

He has never liked its winds, whispering woefully as if mourning something unnamed and unseen. He has never liked its palette, whitewashing the world as if refracting a rainbow in reverse.

He has never liked cracking open his eyes and seeing the scenery of his nightmare outside his window. Nor does he like trudging over the sleet as if weighed down by the same ghosts that break him time and time again in his dreamscape. They love winter. 

And this winter, he swears, is the bitterest yet. On the nights when he’s allowed to sleep, the nightmare comes in such sharp relief that he thinks he’d rather anything else, the ghosts meaner, the blood redder, the silhouette slower. It’s an act of mercy when he’s still awake by the time bleached sunlight perforates the curtains, resting upon his salted cheeks and balled fists.

This winter, it is not just dislike that he feels towards the gray winds—it’s hatred. A maelstrom of loathing so large and dark that Jisung no longer knows where it’s headed or what it’s directed to. Or who.

When winter break comes to an end, he’s probably the only person who’s happy about it.

His friends certainly aren’t, looking like a line of angry nutcrackers with their folded arms and thunderous faces standing outside Greem Cafe.

Jisung calls out a greeting as he jogs towards them, and cue the grumbling.

“What is there to smile about? Enlighten us.” That’s Hyunjin. “I have to deal with four finals and three essays in the next five days and this guy is smiling.”

“He’s accepted his fate, I reckon.” That’s Felix. “We should do the same, boys. Let ourselves down easy, y’know?”

“No, no, he’s smiling because he remembered to bring me his chem notes.” That’s Jeongin. “You did, right? Please say you did.”

Jisung is stunned into silence. “Can I not be happy to see my friends?”

“No,” Hyunjin and Felix reply in unison.

“My bad,” he sighs.

“My notes,” Jeongin repeats.

“I have them, dude. Let’s sit down first.”

The younger boy shouts an impassioned “THANK YOU” at the sky like the clouds just saved his GPA. Jisung reaches for the door to the café, then stops at the sound of Felix’s voice.

“We’re waiting on one more person.”

He turns towards the blonde with puzzled eyes. He’d been under the impression the study session would comprise just them four.

“Who?”

Felix’s response falters on his tongue when he catches sight of something in the distance, and his face changes in a way Jisung’s seen before.

“Look behind you.” Felix shuffles past him, raising his voice to shout, “yo!”

Jisung glances away from the newcomer as quickly as he sees her. It’s not until his eyes pivot to the fire hydrant across the street that he processes her identity.

In one second flat, his mind clutters full. He thinks back to that party, when all it took was the sight of your smile for him to theorize you were the most exquisite thing ever made. He thinks back to the next evening, when he kissed you and verified his hypothesis. He thinks back to what followed and would continue to follow in the few days that remained before break: entwined tongues and emblazoned hickeys, whitened knuckles and whiny praise, snapping hips and shaking bedframes.

This winter, Jisung swears, is the bitterest yet.

But seeing you, the scarf wound multiple times around your neck doing nothing to hide your gorgeous smile, feels like catching a fragment of summer in his frozen hands.

“Thank god,” Felix groans before embracing you. Collapsing on you, more like. “I’m saved.”

You reach around to pat the boy on the back, your eyes brimming with laughter. “Lower your expectations, please. I did well on one exam.”

“You aced the midterm. That automatically makes you a rocket scientist,” Felix corrects, his voice muffled into the shoulder of your coat. A few beats of silence pass. Then, “this is comfy.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go get some caffeine in you,” you giggle. “We have a lot of ground to cover today.”

Felix straightens up sleepily. And sadly. “Superb.”

Jisung hangs back as you introduce yourself to Hyunjin and Jeongin. He doesn’t even notice his growing smile until you’re standing directly in front of him and for the first time in three weeks there’s the smell of cherry blossoms in the air and a rainbow shining on his face again.

“Hi,” he offers.

“Hey,” you reply.

Hyunjin is the one to shatter the prolonged silence that follows. “Are you guys betrothed?”

Felix and Jeongin stalk into the café snickering. You and Jisung trail behind with flaming cheeks.

It takes Jisung two and a half hours to talk to you again. At that point in the afternoon, Felix is napping on the second practice test you’ve given him; Hyunjin has downed three shots of pure espresso and is currently viewing his screen with concerning intensity; Jeongin is at another table on a quiet Zoom call with his chemistry T.A., Jisung’s notes clutched to his chest like a life vest. And you’re leaning back against your seat opposite to him, scrolling through your phone in what he presumes to be a well-deserved study break. As good a time as any.

He opens up his texts with you. His fingers fly across the keyboard.

Jisung: do you have plans after this?

Your eyes stutter to the top of your screen, linger there for a moment, and lock onto Jisung’s from across the table.

He presses his lips into a thin line to suppress his smile. You let yours spill over in full form, and with it comes a soft giggle that would be worth getting his number fucking blocked just to hear one more time.

Three gray dots appear before elongating into a prompt response.

Y/N: I was gonna ask you the same thing…

He’s the one who laughs this time. Fuck, you’re cute. You’re so cute.

Jisung: can i take you to dinner? Y/N: Yes, I’d love that :) Y/N: When should we leave? Jisung: 9? Y/N: Sounds good~ Jisung: cool Jisung: it’s a date Y/N: It’s a date! Y/N: Excited 💛

With that, you put your phone face down and return to work, though your lips remain privately upturned. Jisung wants to kiss them again.

He also wants to turn you into a mess on his cock again.

Or both.

He doesn’t get much studying done after that thought surfaces.

Jisung: me too <3

When nine o’clock rolls around, you and Jisung begin cleaning up your work stations in near-perfect simultaneity. There’s confusion written all over Hyunjin’s and Jeongin’s faces as they watch you swing your backpacks over your shoulders—but Felix’s expression is a blank slate as he sips from his macchiato. Your ingenuity isn’t the only reason he invited you today.

As you make your way out of the café, your shoulders brush once, twice, and then Jisung drops his hand into the space between the two of you without uttering a word. You scoop it up in your own without missing a beat.

He steps into the freezing night feeling warm all over.

“You know what I realized?” You say as you walk towards his SUV.

“What did you realize?”

“We’ve never had a sober conversation before. Can we change that tonight?”

Jisung has broken hearts before.

There’s no euphemistic way to describe his tendency to abuse the sensitive organs, to wring them out and throw them away like irrelevant trash. To juggle and drop them with a sheepish laugh like they’re nothing more than props in a circus act.

He doesn’t do it to save himself or his partners from getting hurt or any self-ingratiating bullshit like that. It’s for himself, all for himself. All to unload his balls and his mind for fifteen blissful seconds. 

There’s blood on his hands. He never cared to wash it off.

Except you are the one asking for his heart this time around, a dash of hope in your smile as you do so, and he thinks it would be his life’s greatest honor to be discarded by you.

“Sure,” he answers.

He doesn’t even last until he’s inside the car.

Your back meets the door to the passenger’s seat, guided there by his hands on your hips. From millimeters away he watches your surprise morph into understanding, then darken into lust.

“I like when we don’t talk, though.”

It’s the most annoying thing in the world to remove so many layers in such a cramped space.

Combined, your clothing forms a tower high enough to block out the driver’s window completely. An unnecessary blockade.

The glass fogs up anyways.

“Fuck, Ji, yes, right there, oh my god.”

You have your legs spread open and the back of your neck digging into the cupholder on the door. It’s not comfortable. You’re too busy getting fucked open to care.

Jisung detaches his lips from your neck to ask, “here, baby?”

The head of his cock hits that gummy spot again, harder, sweeter. You convulse, your hand scrambling for purchase in his raven locks.

“Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop, please.”

Please. The word plays over in his fuzzy mind.

It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.

His cock slips out of you and you lament the loss of contact with a high wail.

“W-why’d—where’d you go?”

He can’t help but chuckle at how incoherent you’ve become. He cradles the back of your head with a tender hand and lowers your upper body onto the leather seat, adjusting himself to your new elevation.

“Right here, beautiful. Didn’t go anywhere—promise—” 

He expels the final word through gritted teeth as he slams into you again, and the new angle is glorious. Your bodies keen in flawless harmony. Profanities tumble from his lips in a steady stream before they turn back into syllables.

“Would never go anywhere. Would never leave without making this pretty pussy cream like it deserves—holy fucking shit, baby.”

You clench around him at his words and then he’s setting a new, relentless rhythm, rocking the whole vehicle with every hearty smack of his hips against yours, your wet walls squeezing him so dreamily he thinks he sees nirvana with every thrust.

You’re enjoying it just as much, if the bubbles of spit in the corner of your mouth are any indication, and Jisung is viciously proud to be the cause. Unbelievably lucky to feel your breasts jiggling under his chest and your nails digging into the back of his neck.

“Good?” He whispers, and you nod blissfully.

“So—good, Ji, so fucking good. Your cock is perfect, fuck, I can’t even—can’t even think.”

“You’re the perfect one. Can’t believe how well your cunt takes me, shit. It’s like it was fucking made for this.”

“It was,” you breathe, and he nearly shoots his load into you at this alone. “It was, it was—oh, god, I think—think I’m gonna come—”

“Do it,” he rasps. “Come for me. Come on this cock and it’s yours.”

“R-really?”

“Really.”

“Then, I will. I’ll come on your cock—make it mine. Need it so fucking bad, I’m so fucking close, oh—please—”

He anchors himself in place with a hand against the windowsill and the other travels down your body to rub fast, tight circles into your clit. You let out a wanton, prolonged moan, tilt your head back to expose him to your fluttering throat. And then you’re pulling his lips onto yours again, and the following kiss is sloppy beyond belief, the kind that can only antedate the happiest of endings.

“My cock,” you sigh into his mouth. “Mine.”

“Forever,” is the breathy response he doesn’t know if he means, the response he gives you anyways.

And then you curl your fingers in his hair. Clamp your teeth around his lower lip. Clench your thighs around his waist. There’s liquid everywhere. Tearwater spilling down the sides of your face. Release gushing all over his dick and pelvis and backseat.

He catches up the moment he realizes what’s just happened. Pulls out of you. Presses his head against the roof of his car. Spits on his hand. Pumps his pulsating cock. Sends himself over the edge you’ve just finished tripping over.

Eventually, he regains feeling in his limbs.

He opens his eyes, surveys the damage, and grins.

Your stomach is covered in ropes of white, your expression hidden behind your hands. You start shaking your head in profuse embarrassment the moment you feel his eyes on you.

“You squirted,” he says.

“I know,” you almost yell, and his grin erupts into a laugh.

He lowers himself back over you, takes your wrists, and removes them from your blushing face. He doesn’t think he’s seen you so flustered before and it has him palpitating in ways he never thought feasible.

Maybe he did mean the damn thing after all.

He pushes off the strands of hair clinging to your damp forehead and replaces them with a gentle kiss. “It was sexy as fuck and you’re everything.” 

There’s a certain softness in your eyes when he pulls away. He hopes, for your sake, it’s all in his head.

His car is in need of aftercare most of all. You shrug on your clothes with considerable effort and get to work, all while sharing comfortable chatter and easy laughter.

Those things persist during your dinner date at a nearby Chinese restaurant and the drive back to your place, which Jisung knows well enough to no longer need his GPS. Those things persist until he kisses you goodbye on your doorstep, because he would have to be fucking crazy not to after you gave him the best night he’s had in so long.

After you reminded him that he’s still capable of comfort and ease, in spite of it all.

Snow comes a few weeks into the new year. 

This winter, it falls late, and it falls hard, like a gust of breath expelled from drawn lungs at the very last minute. Held there as if lying in wait for something unnamed and unseen. 

The gust of breath is too quiet to be heard over the one Jisung lets out against the shell of your ear. “Wait here.”

He goes to roll off you. You don’t let him just yet, darting your hand around his wrist and bringing his face back within centimeters of yours.

Han Jisung is beautiful. You knew it for the first time at that houseparty and you’ve known it every hour of every day since. But it’s always clearest to you in the afterglow, when his bare skin is golden and sticky and his delicate lips bitten to bright fuchsia. 

When his irises have gone black and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light.

You close the distance that remains between you. Your lips part with a content sigh. Your hands drift over the slant of his neck; his find home in the dips above your waist.

He breaks away once you’re both out of breath, and the pad of his thumb wipes lightly at your lower lip.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” you reply shyly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

The smile this brings to his face reminds you of a candle’s flame. Soft on the eyes and scalding to the touch when he presses it back against your lips. Once, twice.

“Can you wipe your cum off me now?” You whisper, and he laughs straight into your mouth.

The mattress lifts. His footsteps grow quieter. You shiver in his absence.

Only then do you notice the blizzard.

You stumble off the bed to throw your curtains aside. Snow descends from the sky like spools of unraveling yarn. The streetlights have been reduced to foggy specks, the parked cars to blurry heaps. Every sidewalk and rooftop in sight has already been slathered in ivory.

Jisung announces his return with a disbelieving whistle.

“Am I dreaming?” You murmur.

“When did that happen?”

“I have no idea.”

You don’t even notice the wild smile on your face until you turn to him and catch his reaction to it. He looks like he’s asking himself the same question.

“C’mere,” he hums, and you oblige.

He laves the warm towel over your breasts and stomach, as well as the places his release has trickled since you flung yourself to your feet. All while supporting the small of your back with a touch fatally careful, an expression wholly adoring. All evidence of just how blurry the line between sexual escapade and lover has become in two short months.

Your ribcage fucking throbs.

“You don’t seem excited,” you say.

He finishes cleaning you off. You give him a distracted thank you, noticing the sudden shadow draped over his face like a netted veil.

“I’m not,” he answers, not unkindly.

“You don’t like snow?”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

He circles around the bed to get dressed. You bend to pick up the clothes tossed aside earlier and drop them into your hamper, then slip into a clean pair of underwear and sweatpants.

“It’s a long story.”

Just as you reach for a top, a bundle of cloth travels in an arc across your bedroom and hooks itself around the crook of your arm. His T-shirt. 

You glance at Jisung. He’s already looking elsewhere, but his private smile makes its way onto your face as you slip it on.

“Well, I have time.” You sink into your mattress, now surrounded by his muted musk, his papyrus and petrichor. “We’ll be stuck here a while, after all.”

“Stuck?” Jisung repeats, the lanyard of his car keys dangling from the pocket of his hoodie, his feet turned towards the door.

A pregnant pause commences. His intentions dawn, and you gape.

“You’re not driving right now.”

He breaks eye contact.

“Right?”

That was the plan, you read in his expression.

You know better than trying to reverse a river’s current by kicking up rocks. You know better than trying to curtail the flight of an albatross by clipping its wings.

You know better than asking someone who thinks he was made to leave to stay.

And you won’t.

“I have somewhere to be early tomorrow morning,” he stammers, the lines terribly rehearsed. “The snow’s not heavy, I’ll be—”

“Stay.”

You’re not asking.

Jisung looks at you, startled, as you glide across the bed. You place your feet on the hardwood and circle your arms around his waist. Lace your fingers upon the hollow of his back. His pulse goes uneven at your abrupt proximity.

Akin to the drag of a feather, you mouth at his cheek, then the side of his neck.

“You can stay, Jisung.”

He shudders at your words, and you’ve got him.

It’s oddly normal, the sight of him clambering into your bed in your clothing—a pair of old sweatpants and your favorite crewneck—like this isn’t the first time you’re sleeping together in your two months of sleeping together.

In fact, the only indication of anything unordinary is the floaty feeling in your stomach when your head hits the pillow and discover Jisung’s face only inches away. He drapes an arm over your waist, gathering you close. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

The inevitable question follows.

“Can I save the story for another time?”

“Sure,” you return, keeping your voice small. He doesn’t hear your disappointment this way. “Should we go to sleep, then?”

“We should.”

Your foreheads touch. Your noses bump together. Your eyes cross, watching the adoration pull at his. You dimly register your hand threading in his fluffy locks, his thumb running over your cheekbone. Your lashes narrowly miss the surface of his eyes, and then he tips your face up by millimeters.

You don’t remember when you fall asleep. You only recall the hour beforehand that you spend with Jisung’s lips traversing yours, like you are the ocean and he’s uncovering new waters with every bruise he prints against your throat, every suckle he leaves around your tongue.

In your dream, the roles reverse and you are the one exploring him, mapping out his constellations with wide-eyed wonder.

You wake to a black hole.

For the first five seconds, you see nothing. You hear nothing. You feel nothing. You only blink in the darkness, your mind kicking into groggy gear to ask the very good question of why you’re conscious again.

Instinct moves your hand across the mattress. Empty space greets you where Jisung should be. Unfounded dread shoves your back off the bed. You gasp, the sound seeming to echo in the cavernous silence.

Your eyes adjust enough to discern light in the crack beneath your door, and you’re wide awake.

The following events go by in a blur. You stumble out of bed and into your closet, fastening your fingers around the thickest piece of fabric you find. You fly into the living room, where the lamp by the couch is left on and the pair of worn black Converse on your doormat have gone missing.

The front door is cracked open, and through the narrow inches you spot someone hunched on the stairs outside, his dark hair dyed platinum by the awning light’s fluorescence.

Your heart stills in relief, then quickens with anxiety.

You’ve tried wearing this crewneck in January enough times to know you can’t. In fact, you suspect that it somehow soaks up the temperature, lets it seep in between its every seam until it becomes one with the bitter winds. 

But he isn’t shivering, you notice as you take a seat next to him, draping the puffer over both of your shoulders on your way down. He’s simply staring off into the bleak storm, snowflakes sitting atop his head like a coating of ash, their color matching that of his frozen skin. He’s becoming one with the bitter winds. 

At first, you don’t recognize the man in front of you.

You’re well familiar with those ring-laden hands and the whetted jawline thrown into shadow, those remnants of cologne clinging to his frame. But you have never seen that gaze before, bloodshot and bleak and belonging to somebody new. Somebody who isn’t completely here, straddling the partition between the realms of people and phantoms.

Then he lifts his eyes and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light. Your stars.

And you recognize him for the first time ever.

You drop your hand to your hip, and his fingers feel stiff and cold and perfect, sliding into the spaces between yours.

“Why don’t you like snow?” You ask.

Jisung’s eyes return to the swirling sleet, but he moves your interlocked hands to rest on his thigh, and you know that he’s with you.

He’s been having this nightmare.

It takes place in a small clearing. It’s winter, and everything is covered in snow. Not the gentle kind that you can catch on your tongue, but the unyielding kind that’s hard and dense and covered in cracks, like a lake newly frozen over.

Somebody is in front of him, walking away. He can only see their back. He wants to chase after them. He doesn’t want to be left behind. But there are ghosts nearby, and they’ll split his skull open on the permafrost and tie his windpipe into a pretty bow if he so much as dreams of pursuit. He always does. He doesn’t know how not to.

Normally, the back leaves, and he can do nothing but remain. He can direct his loathing only to the snow into which he bleeds. 

Normally, he waits for the dream to end with something bordering on boredom. He’s seen this movie too many times. He fucking hates how it ends.

This time, though, the snow tastes like something.

After the flavors deliquesce upon his tongue, his head shoots up, his eyes blowing wide as they latch onto the retreating figure. He knows who it is.

His feet scrabbles against the ice with his attempts to rise to them. He lunges forward with frenzied resolve, and that is when the ghosts snap his neck.

He wakes up.

“Cherry blossoms and vanilla.”

You blink, tearwater streaking from your eyes in silent, steaming trails.

“That’s—”

My shampoo.

A broken sob escapes you in lieu of the rest of your sentence, and Jisung laughs, a flimsy facade that crumbles when he lifts his hand to dab at your moistened cheeks and it’s trembling.

“Silly,” he murmurs. “I’m used to it now.”

“I don’t want you to be.”

“I don’t want you to cry for me.”

“You died.”

“And I would do it again.”

This response comes without an shred of hesitation.

You first realized you had something to confess, that night in the the back of Jisung’s SUV. You’ve kept it locked away for your sake and his, even moreso. You see how fear clings to him like an unshakeable wraith, and you refuse to feed the parasite.

Now, your confession explodes from its fortress in the center of your soul and rises up your larynx. You panic like an inept security guard letting their only prisoner bolt free. Is it really the right time? Do you know what to say? Have you really thought this through? 

Too late. It’s rushing to the point of your tongue already. You suppose you’ll find out.

He saves you the trouble.

“Honestly?”

Your confession stills. 

“I don’t know if I’m okay, and I won’t try to convince you otherwise. You’d call my bluff. You’re good at that.

“But everything feels okay when I’m with you. You see me. You allow me just to exist as I am. You make me feel human again—you make me want to feel human again. You empty my mind.”

You feel as if you’ve been ejected into space naked, griping for air where there is none.

“I never believed in having somebody to lose,” he utters, gently leaning his forehead against yours. “But I would rather disappear than watch you go.”

You cradle his jaw with shaking fingers, trying and failing to quell the violence of your emotion.

“Don’t go,” he exhales.

You kiss him.

It should feel the same as before. You reach for the slant of his neck, him the dips above your waist. You sigh into him, parting your lips, and he moves into you deeper, harder, dipping into your mouth with his tongue’s pliant swipe. But there’s something new in the way you hold each other, in the seal of your mouth against his.

The line between sexual escapade and lover vanishes as if swept off the sand and into the sea. His stars come out of hiding at last and they bathe you in their residue, light your heart aglow.

Your confession resurfaces. It wants to stargaze also.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

The night comes and goes.

The two of you spend it entangling, sweating, your lips glued the expanse of his neck and the arcs of his shoulders, writing over the ghosts’ injuries with bruises of your making.

Only when the winds have faltered outside do you attempt to rest again. You are curled up in balmy bliss, utterly depleted. Jisung’s arms around your middle and legs threaded among yours bring you that much closer to slumber’s cusp.

You attribute it to your exhaustion when he mumbles something against you, and you have no idea what it means: “Thank you for refracting me.” 

Your confusion is palpable in your silence. His laugh hits the nape of your neck with a gentle puff, and he kisses the spot just beneath your ear. “Never mind.”

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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

[ksoodomination-write]

for eternity

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: EXO (Band)

Relationship: Do Kyungsoo | D.O./Kim Jongdae | Chen

Word Count: 1000 words

Additional Tags:

Movie: Along with the Gods: The Two Worlds (2017), Movie: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (2001), Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Grim Reapers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied Self-Worth Issues

Written for tinysparks’ 13th Round: Like A Movie

“Kyungsoo had done his mission excellently, as always. Jongdae’s soul was safely guarded to the gates of reincarnation. Then why? Why did Kyungsoo feel so… void?”

[goopeculiar]

So Darkness I Became jongin/kyungsoo, NC-17, 24905 words. Jongin comes back to Kyungsoo like Autumn turns the leaves colourful, like Winter blows in with chilly gusts of wind and snow. Inevitably.

[baekhyunsbestie]

♡⸝⸝ sparks and vows (bbh series!) ⊹。°˖➴

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧♡₊˚ pics 1 2 ♡ song・₊✧♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧🥂

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 pairing: soloist!baekhyun x unnamed female o/c (y/n) aka [✶] ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 content: 18+/MDNI. smut, romance, wedding!au, angst, fluff, exos and o/c's, pussy whipped baek, ex-playboy baek, ceo nepo baby reader, smut (tbh probs every chapter), language, scenes with alcohol +/or smoking throughout story, pretty tame tho tbh!!! ଘ(ᵕ˵ ૩ᵕ)━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ baekhyun is down bad like real bad, reader lowkey being a lil punk, also ksoo cant read the room 😭 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 wc: 7.9k+ omg 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 a/n: omg so im going to start putting [✶] and just know that means (y/n) k? k :') as always lmk ur thoughts!! <3 hehe mwah

s&v | mlist | prev | ★ ch.2 rendezvous ★ | next

it was that in-between time when night lingers in the air, yet morning remains a distant thought. [✶] lay fast asleep in baekhyun’s arms, their naked bodies intertwined, sheets tangled beneath them like the remnants of a dream. outside the window, the city lights flickered softly, a quiet backdrop to the intimate chaos within. baekhyun's room was evidence of their passion—a scatter of clothing across the floor, nightstands cluttered with the remnants of their shared moments, condom wrappers, and crumpled napkins bearing witness to the night’s intensity.

baekhyun watched her sleep, completely captivated by the gentle rhythm of her breathing, each rise and fall of her chest like a soft melody that tugged at something deep within him. she looked so serene, so devastatingly beautiful, and it sent his heart into a wild, unfamiliar rhythm. this wasn’t who he was—love had always seemed like a distraction, something that pulled focus from what truly mattered. for the last 15 years, his life had been dedicated to music, every beat of his heart, every ounce of his passion poured into his art. it was his everything—until now.

now, baekhyun held [✶] close, her body fitting against his like they’d been crafted for this moment, his arms wrapped around her with the kind of desperation that comes from realizing you’ve found something you didn’t even know you were missing. less than a day ago, she was just a stranger, someone whose name he didn’t even know. yet here she was, tangled in his arms as if she had always belonged there.

it wasn’t out of character for him to bring someone home after a night out—it was routine, a brief escape that ended with the sunrise and no strings attached, inevitably leaving a trail of frustrated women, disappointed by the imbalance between their hopes and his intentions. but this? holding [✶] long after the moon had set, thinking about her like she was more than just another fleeting moment? it shook him. the sharp, sweet ache in his chest made no sense. he had no room for this—no room for her. his life was full, overflowing with plans, projects, and the relentless pace of his career. he didn’t have the time or the ability to be the kind of partner she deserved. yet something inside him was urging him to try, to just see where this could go. and the thought of treating her like all the others—women who were here one night and gone the next—felt impossible. she was different, and he couldn’t imagine letting her slip away the same way.

a storm of emotions raged inside him, battling between running from the overwhelming intensity of it all or surrendering completely, losing himself in the feeling of her in his arms. the dawn was creeping closer, and with it, the inevitable confrontation of reality. what would he say when the first light touched her skin? how could he possibly put into words the confusion and intensity that gripped him?

‘so, [✶],’ he could imagine himself saying, half-joking, half-serious. ‘last night was unbelievable. and god–the sex? THE best i’ve ever had, hands down. but, uh… now i think i’m starting to feel something real, something genuine.’

but no, that couldn’t be right. he couldn’t possibly feel that way—not after just one night.

except, maybe that was exactly the whole fucking point. he’d only known [✶] for such a short time, yet she had already flipped his entire world upside down. and of course, he didn’t know her in the traditional sense—there were no shared experiences, no history between them. but somehow, he felt like he knew her. like her soul had been cut from the same fabric as his, and no matter how crazy it seemed, it just felt right.

as he navigates a whirlwind of emotions—excited by the possibility of a future together and grateful for the universe’s twist of fate—he’s also plagued by persistent doubts. the question, ‘what if it doesn’t work out?’ echoes relentlessly. amidst this emotional storm, one truth stands unwavering in his heart: he wants [✶].

he wants all of her—the good, the bad, and everything in between. for the first time in his life, baekhyun doesn’t feel the insistent urge to run away. that thought alone is both terrifying and freeing. with his arms still wrapped around her and her warmth grounding him in a way he’d never felt before, baekhyun’s eyes finally grow heavy. as sleep overtakes him, only one thought remains: ‘i want ✶’.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

as the morning sun filters through baekhyun's bedroom curtains, casting a soft glow over their still-entwined bodies, [✶] stirs awake. the weight of the previous night crashes down on her with an almost physical force.

the first thing she notices, with a wave of relief, is the absence of a pounding headache or any trace of a hangover. silently, she thanks the gods for sparing her the consequences of her indulgence. but as awareness creeps in, the feel of her bare skin against baekhyun’s sends a surge of insecurity through her. instinctively, she pulls the covers tighter around herself, though her head remains nestled on his chest, just as it was when she fell asleep.

his chest rises and falls beneath her, his slow, steady breaths a sign that he's still deep in slumber. she glances up through heavy-lidded eyes, a soft smile forming as she takes in his peaceful features—the defined bridge of his nose, the pout of his lips, the few scattered freckles that dot his face. his slightly tousled hair falls gently over his forehead, enhancing his impossibly breathtaking appearance.

as her body fully awakens, the remnants of last night’s passion make themselves known, a dull ache settling in her thighs and core—a reminder of just how unforgettable the night had been.

oh, last night was pure magic.

from the very first moment, an undeniable spark ignited between them—a fusion of laughter and playful banter that effortlessly drew them closer with each shared joke. the attraction was magnetic, their energies blending in a way that felt almost fated. by the time they made it back to baekhyun’s place, a deeper intimacy had already begun to unravel as they stripped away layers of themselves, exposing vulnerabilities and desires. every movement between them was fluid, like a perfectly choreographed dance, each touch and caress in sync, flowing seamlessly. when their lips finally met, it was breathless, electric, as if every kiss was proof of the chemistry they couldn’t deny. there was no awkwardness or hesitation—just a quiet, unspoken understanding that made everything feel effortless and right.

despite the magic of the night and the waves of pleasure baekhyun had given [✶], she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she was just another conquest. another notch on his belt.

she had been fully aware of the boundaries she was crossing when she let things go as far as they did. but now, lying there in the dim morning light, she couldn’t shake the nagging doubt. was it the ache of loneliness, stretching back months before her breakup, that had driven her into baekhyun’s bed? the realization made her feel small and pitiable. this was supposed to be what she wanted—just a night of fleeting pleasure. she’d never intended for anything more, had she?

baekhyun’s reputation wasn’t a mystery. she knew his story, his resistance to commitment. hana had given her all the warnings. so why did she feel this sense of disappointment creeping in? did she really think he’d change for her? the thought twisted like a knife in her chest, leaving her feeling small and foolish.

the more she dwelled on it, the worse it got. her mind spiraled, and what had started as a gnawing insecurity quickly turned into a suffocating weight pressing down on her. each breath felt harder than the last. the comfort she’d found with baekhyun now felt like a cage she desperately needed to break free from.

with delicate, almost trembling grace, she gently disentangles herself from baekhyun’s hold, slipping out of his bed as silently as a shadow slipping through the night. she dresses with deliberate care, each movement slow as though she fears shattering the fragile peace. her heart feels heavy, weighed down by a whirlwind of unspoken fears and doubts.

she pauses for a moment, casting one last, lingering glance at the man she’s leaving behind, her chest tightening with the unvoiced turmoil inside her. then, she quietly turns toward the door, each step a soft whisper of the internal struggle pulling her away from the comfort she craves.

“where are you going?” his voice is soft but laced with urgency, cutting through the silence as [✶] freezes at the front door of his apartment, her hand on the doorknob. she turns, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him. baekhyun stands in the doorway of his bedroom, the morning light spilling through the curtains, casting a warm glow on his skin. his usually confident demeanor is nowhere to be found—his lips are trembling ever so slightly, betraying a fear he’s never known before. 

but this time is different. this time, the thought of her leaving without even saying goodbye has shaken him in ways he wasn’t prepared for.

“i... i just thought i should go,” she mumbles, avoiding his gaze. it feels safer that way, to not see the way he looks at her, like he cares—like this is more than just another fleeting moment for him. because if she looks, she might start believing it. and she can't afford to be that naive.

baekhyun takes a step closer, his expression growing more concerned. “w-why?” his voice is quieter now, softer, as if he's afraid of scaring her away completely. “did i...do something wrong?”

the question nearly shatters her. no, he didn’t do anything wrong. he did everything right. maybe too right. it was her who was messed up. her thoughts swirl, and the doubts she had managed to suppress crash back down on her, heavier than before.

not only is he saying all the right things, it definitely doesn’t help that he looks absolutely unreal. his toned abs are visible beneath the loosely held sheet around his waist—not overly muscular, but defined just enough to show the faint lines of his effort. his hair, still messy from the night before, frames his face with an effortless charm. strands fall messily across his forehead, his undercut now more visible, revealing the sharp contrast between the tousled top and the freshly shaved sides. 

“i just... don’t want to complicate things,” [✶] whispers, her throat tightening. “we both know this wasn’t meant to be anything serious.”

baekhyun’s jaw clenches, his expression hardening for a brief moment, but it softens again almost immediately. “who said that?”

his words catch her off guard. she looks up at him, finally, her brows furrowing as she tries to gauge the sincerity in his eyes. “you don’t have to say that. we both know what this is. you don’t have to pretend.”

his dark eyes search for hers, filled with a sense of longing and desperation that makes her heart skip. the way he’s looking at her isn’t just lust or satisfaction from a night well spent. no, it’s more. it’s something real, something vulnerable.

“[✶],” he steps closer, and for the first time, there's a sense of urgency in his voice, “i’m not pretending. i don’t know what this is, but i know it’s not nothing. i didn’t–i don’t want you to leave.”

her heart stumbles at his admission. she wasn’t expecting that. she was expecting indifference, a casual goodbye, maybe even relief on his part. but instead, she finds herself facing a man who seems genuinely rattled by the thought of her walking out of his life.

“why?” she blurts out before she can stop herself. the question is raw, tinged with the vulnerability she’s tried so hard to hide. “why would you care if i leave? i’m just another girl to you, right?”

his eyes darken with frustration, and before she can retreat any further, he closes the distance between them. “no. you’re not just another girl.” his voice is firm, with an edge of desperation. “if you were, i wouldn’t be standing here right now, trying to figure out why you’re running away. i wouldn't have tried so fucking hard all night to get you to agree to go on an actual date with me.”

she swallows hard, her mind racing. this wasn’t the baekhyun she had expected—the one standing before her now felt different, almost… vulnerable. it threw her off balance, disarming in a way that left her both intrigued and unsettled. this glimpse of him, raw and open, scared her more than she wanted to admit.

“you don’t know what you’re saying,” she mutters, turning her face away, her voice barely above a whisper. “you don’t know what you want.”

baekhyun’s hand reaches out, gently grasping her wrist, not to restrain her, but to ground her. “maybe i don’t,” he admits, his tone softer now. “but i know i want to find out. with you.”

his words land like a punch to the gut, stirring something deep inside her, something she’s trying so hard to bury. it would be so easy to believe him, to let herself hope. but her insecurities scream louder than the quiet sincerity in his voice.

“i’m scared,” she finally admits, the truth spilling out before she can stop it. “i don’t want to be just another one of your conquests.”

baekhyun’s grip on her wrist tightens just a fraction, as if silently reassuring her. “and you’re not. look, i don’t know what i’m doing either. i admit, when it comes to my love life, i’ve been a mess for a long time. but last night... it wasn’t just fun for me. like i said, i didn’t want it to end, and i’m not ready for it to end yet.”

her heart races, battling against her fear, her doubts. she wants to believe him. god, she wants to so badly. but the weight of her past, of her insecurities, makes it so hard to trust, to let herself fall.

she whispers, her voice trembling. “why does it feel like i’m setting myself up to get hurt?”

baekhyun exhales slowly, stepping even closer, so close she can feel the warmth of his skin, the sincerity radiating off him. "because i’ve been that guy before,” he says, his voice low and regretful. “i know what you’ve heard about me, and i know it makes me look untrustworthy. but i’m trying to be different. i want to be different. for you.”

her breath catches, and for a moment, she doesn’t know what to say. she’s standing at a crossroads, one where she can either run from this potential or take a leap into the unknown, into the terrifying, fragile possibility that baekhyun might actually mean what he says.

“just stay,” he pleads, his eyes searching hers. “we don’t have to figure it all out right now. just... stay. at least let me make you a coffee.”

and in that moment, she realizes she’s not the only one who's afraid. he’s scared too—scared of losing something real, something that might be worth the risk.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“thanks for meeting me so early,” hana says, her voice light yet tinged with a hint of mischief as she glances at [✶]. she raises her glass, savoring a generous sip of her mimosa, the citrus tang lingering on her lips. “i hope you’re not too hungover from last night.”

after the events of the previous evening—and everything that followed—hana had insisted on brunch. [✶] had reluctantly agreed, though she had wished to stay wrapped up in baekhyun’s arms a little longer. she stayed for coffee, at least, and during that brief pause, they had talked. they agreed to take things slow, letting the pace be hers. it was new for both of them, but they decided they’d figure it out together.

still, she wasn’t fully convinced. as baekhyun spoke, opening up in a way she hadn’t expected, there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind, reminding her of all the reasons she should be cautious. part of her wanted to believe him—his sincerity did seem genuine.

then, before she could overthink further, another voice—softer, almost hopeful—urged her to agree. give him a chance, just this once.

so then she nodded in agreement, the words tumbling out of her mouth almost reflexively. 'yeah, okay. sure. we’ll take it slow. let’s see where this goes.' the second she said it, she felt the weight lift slightly, though her heart still carried the lingering burden of doubt.

as soon as their conversation came to a close, [✶] had barely managed to get through half of her cup before baekhyun swept her up, carrying her bridal-style back to his bedroom to pick up where they left off the night before.

baekhyun had been between [✶]'s legs when hana called. she forwarded the call to voicemail the first couple of times, her focus lost in the heat of baekhyun’s mouth. the third call, baekhyun paused long enough to nudge her to answer. “it might be important,” he murmured, his lips still brushing her skin. breathless, she agreed, assuming he’d give her a moment of peace to handle it.

just seconds into the call, baekhyun dove back in, his lips finding their place between [✶]'s thighs once again. her back arched in response, a hand flying to her mouth to stifle the moan that nearly escaped. his quiet chuckle vibrated against her, making her toes curl. he was tormenting her and he was relishing every second of it.

hana had asked to meet for brunch later that morning, and despite the overwhelming distraction, [✶] couldn’t bring herself to say no. hana would immediately sense something was off if she refused, and [✶] wasn’t ready to explain what—or rather, who—was keeping her busy. with a steadying breath, she agreed to brunch, trying to sound as casual as possible, all while baekhyun continued his irresistible teasing beneath the sheets.

before she could even say goodbye, baekhyun snatched her phone, powered it off, and tossed it lightly across the room and out of her reach.

she shot him a disbelieving look, her mouth hanging open in shock. “baek, did you seriously just throw my phone?”

“don’t worry, babe,” he murmured, his lips brushing gently against her thighs, punctuated by playful nibbles. “if it’s broken, i’ll just get you a new one.” he said it with such effortless ease, his tone carrying an unspoken promise—he wasn’t done with her just yet.

she released a shaky breath, her body trembling from the waves of pleasure surging through her. the sight alone was almost enough to push her over the edge—his plush, pink lips enveloping her completely, his relentless tongue expertly circling her most sensitive spot. the dark, intense look in his eyes never left hers, watching her fall apart beneath his touch, turning her into a helpless mess. he was being so mean.

“why do i get the feeling you’re going to be the death of me, byun baekhyun?”

a wicked, self-satisfied grin twisted his lips at the desperate, broken whine that bubbled up from her. god, that sound was like pure, addictive nectar to him—he couldn’t get enough. his touch was merciless, each stroke and caress a calculated torment meant to make her squirm and beg. her thighs clamped down on his head, nearly crushing him, and he thrived on the way she writhed with pleasure. he was consumed by an unholy hunger to hear every gasping whimper and frenzied moan she made. nothing was too extreme, no act too cruel, just to keep her trembling and on the edge of madness. he’d happily lose himself entirely—drown in her juices—if it meant he could keep hearing those sweet, desperate sounds that drove him wild. to him, her pleasure was an intoxicating obsession, and he’d do anything to keep those sounds coming.

in his haze, the thought of returning to his old playboy ways was utterly inconceivable. how could he go back to such meaningless encounters now that he had experienced the depth of having [✶] beneath him, that he had tasted her so intimately? the fleeting pleasures of his past life were nothing compared to the all-consuming need he felt for her. the idea of being with anyone else, of indulging in any other woman’s touch, was abhorrent to him. he needed her and only her, every day, every night, for the rest of his days. the sheer thought of anything else was a betrayal of the dark, obsessive desire that now consumed him.

now, sitting in the bustling restaurant, surrounded by the sounds of clinking glasses and lively chatter, the air warm and fresh as they chose a spot outside, [✶] tried to ground herself in the present. the late morning sun bathed the two friends in a gentle glow, the rays caressing their skin with a comforting warmth.

[✶] smiled, mirroring her best friend as she took a slow sip of her drink. “well, when my best friend calls, i answer.”

she cleared her throat, trying to push away the vivid memory of baekhyun’s touch while she answered that very call, her pulse quickening momentarily. the contrast between the intimate, fevered haze of the morning and the casual brunch setting was stark, and [✶] struggled to keep her composure as she engaged in light conversation with hana.

hana's lips curled into a smile at [✶]'s remark, but that smile slowly fell once her gaze drifted lower. her eyes locked onto something just above [✶]'s collarbone—a faint mark, barely concealed under the edge of her cardigan, but unmistakably there.

"um, what the hell is that?!" hana’s voice practically squealed with excitement as she pointed at the mark, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

[✶] froze, her face a mask of horror. they hadn't even been sitting at the table for five minutes, and hana had already spotted it. her mind scrambled for an excuse, but she came up empty-handed. before she could even react, hana’s eyes widened in delight. "oh, you dirty whore! i knew you went to baekhyun’s last night! is that why you kept declining my calls this morning?!"

“hey, weren’t you the one telling me to have fun?” [✶] retorted, her hand instinctively flying to cover the mark, her sudden insecurity evident as hana’s gaze bore into her with playful intensity.

desperate to divert the attention away from herself—and the telltale mark on her neck that her best friend’s keen eyes had already noticed—[✶] blurted out, "anyway, what’s up? i’m shocked kyungsoo’s not too busy basking in 'betrothed bliss' to let you out of his sight." her words came out in a rush, the playful jab at her friend laced with a hint of anxiety as she tried to steer the conversation away from the previous night’s events.

hana narrowed her eyes playfully, giving her best friend a knowing look that promised a full interrogation about baekhyun later. with the tension between them dissolving, she relaxed back into her seat, a soft smile playing on her lips. "well, if you must know, i do have a little surprise for you."

she then reached down and brought out a stunning bouquet of flowers, the delicate pinks and whites of peonies and carnations mingling with the airy softness of baby’s breath. the arrangement was breathtaking, each bloom carefully selected to create a harmonious blend of color and fragrance. as [✶] took the bouquet, the sweet scent of the flowers filled the air, wrapping her in a comforting embrace. but it wasn’t just the flowers that caught her attention.

as [✶]'s eyes drifted down, she noticed the newspaper wrapping the bouquet—a charming and personal touch. on it was a nostalgic picture of the two of them as children, arms wrapped around each other, their smiles wide and full of innocent joy. above the image, a headline in bold letters asked, ‘will you be my maid of honor?’

tears welled up in [✶]'s eyes, her heart swelling with happiness at the heartfelt proposal. she looked directly across the table at hana, her voice choked with emotion. “oh my god, hana, of course i’ll be your maid of honor!”

the two rise from their seats, the excitement in the air nearly palpable. as they step into each other's embrace, the hug is tight and full of unspoken emotions—love, pride, and the overwhelming joy of this moment. [✶] feels her chest swell with happiness for her best friend, the kind that makes her eyes glisten with unshed tears. this is a moment she'll cherish forever.

as they settle back down, [✶] takes hana's hand, her grip firm and reassuring. "i promise you, i'm going to make this wedding everything you've ever dreamed of," she says, her voice filled with determination and warmth. "you know i'm the best when it comes to planning and parties," [✶] brags with a playful smirk. "you won't even have to lift a finger. you can count on me."

hana grins and winks at her, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "duh, that's why i picked you for the job. did you think it was because of the 20+ years of history we have with each other?" she joked causing [✶] to roll her eyes.

“but anyways, now that we’ve got all of that out of the way,” hana says with a sly grin, finishing off the last sip of her mimosa. the waiter arrives just in time to refill her glass, but hana barely acknowledges him, her focus entirely on [✶]. she leans in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “spill. about baekhyun, i mean. i want every single detail, especially the juicy ones. this is a first for us, after all.”

it’s true. [✶] has never had anything this juicy to share before—how could she, when there was only ever one person she’s been with? this whole experience is as new to [✶] as it is to hana.

hana’s eyes gleam with pride and excitement for her best friend. it was always hana who had the wild stories of one-night stands and steamy affairs—until kyungsoo came along and changed that, of course. but now, it’s [✶]’s turn, and hana couldn’t be happier to see her best friend finally stepping into the spotlight, embracing a side of life she had never explored before.

as [✶] captivates her best friend with the events of the previous night, her voice is a mix of excitement and raw emotion. she starts with the first kiss, describing it as a moment suspended in time—the spark that affirmed that there truly was something between her and baekhyun. she talks about their conversations, rich and engaging, where they uncovered just how much they had in common. their chemistry was evident in every shared laugh and glance.

the conversation takes a more heated turn as [✶] details what happened in baekhyun’s bedroom. her eyes flutter with a mix of excitement and lingering nervousness as she recounts the intensity of their encounter—an experience that surpassed anything she’d ever known.

her cheeks warm with the flush of several mimosas as she describes waking in the soft morning light, her heart pounding with a blend of fear and exhilaration. she had almost left without a word, but then she had seen the hurt in baekhyun’s eyes—a look that pierced through her and left her trembling. [✶] recounts the heartfelt things baekhyun had told her, his affirmations that he wanted her to stay. though his words were beautiful and convincing, she couldn’t shake the fear weighing on her heart. his promises seemed so simple, but she hardly knew him, and his reputation with women only added to her doubts.

“i know we agreed to take things at my pace and see where this goes,” [✶] gushes to hana, her voice tinged with frustration and uncertainty. “but i can’t help feeling scared. he said all the right things, hana,” she continues, her eyes searching for reassurance. “he made everything sound so… simple. but with what i know about his past with women, i’m just not sure if i should fully trust him yet.. or ever.”

hana listens intently, her gaze reflecting a blend of empathy and understanding. she can’t help but draw parallels between [✶]’s current turmoil and her own past experiences. she recognizes the familiar echoes of her own journey with kyungsoo in [✶]’s struggle. 

she reflects on the early days of her relationship with kyungsoo, remembering how he grappled with insecurities about her popularity and past. the relationship had been rocky at times, but they weathered the storm and built a foundation of trust that led them to where they are now—engaged and committed. 

hana finds herself empathizing with baekhyun’s situation as well, sensing a genuine depth in his feelings for [✶]. the shock of discovering that he might actually have developed real emotions for [✶] resonates with hana’s own experiences. she understands the challenge of overcoming past impressions and the difficulty of navigating new emotions in a relationship. the parallels between [✶]’s predicament and her own journey with kyungsoo feel strikingly similar.

hana reaches across the table, her smile soft and comforting. “i understand, [✶]. trusting someone when there’s so much uncertainty is never easy. but sometimes, the only way to truly get to know someone is to take a leap of faith. and as much as it surprises me to say this about byun baekhyun of all people, who knows? it might actually work out between you two. he seems genuine. besides, he wouldn’t risk playing with your feelings, especially knowing you’re my best friend. baekhyun might not always come across as a gentleman with women, but he does have his principles.”

“yeah,” [✶] replies, her voice tinged with exhaustion and a touch of resignation. “OR i could just ghost him and skip all this potential heartache. save myself from getting hurt.” she shrugs, trying to sound casual, but her eyes reveal the deeper unease she’s feeling. 

unknowingly, [✶]'s reaction mirrors the very hesitance she perceives in baekhyun. 

“that option seems like the safest bet. besides, i probably won’t see him again until the wedding, so there’s plenty of time and distance to figure things out.”

as [✶] continues to pour out her feelings, hana’s attention is drawn to the two men approaching their table. her heart skips a beat as she recognizes them, bracing for what could be an awkward encounter. she tries to catch [✶]’s attention, hoping to steer the conversation away, but her friend, lost in a haze of inebriated candor, remains blissfully unaware.

“i mean, who knows, maybe he’s probably already forgotten all about—”

a smooth, confident voice interrupts [✶]’s ramble. “fancy seeing you two here,” one of the men says, his tone dripping with amusement.

kyungsoo strides over to his fiancée with a warm, affectionate smile. leaning down, he presses a gentle kiss to hana’s lips. as he pulls back, his gaze shifts to [✶]. “you remember baekhyun from the party last night, right?”

[✶] turns to face the towering figure behind her, her eyes widening in surprise. her heart races as she meets baekhyun’s gaze, his expression a mixture of charm and intrigue. the blush rising on her cheeks and neck could easily be attributed to the alcohol, but deep down, she knows it’s more than that. it feels as though her breath has momentarily escaped her, caught in the magnetic pull of baekhyun’s presence.

“uhhh… yeah,” [✶] murmurs, her voice barely a whisper, eyes widening in a mix of surprise and embarrassment. “hi, baekhyun.”

[✶]’s hands tremble slightly as she tries to compose herself, her voice wavering. baekhyun, on the other hand, stands effortlessly, his relaxed posture and easy smile showing no sign of the tension [✶] is feeling.

“hi there, [✶]. long time no see.” baekhyun’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he casually greets her, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. his demeanor only heightens [✶]’s sense of unease, making her feel even more out of place.

‘why is he here? why does he look so fucking good? and why the hell is he acting like he wasn’t just eating me out like his very life depended on it just an hour ago?’ the questions race through [✶]’s mind, her anxiety evident in the way her heart pounds and her thoughts scatter.

the two men slide their chairs into place beside them, the scrape of wood against the floor sounding louder than usual in the tense atmosphere. hana’s gaze locks onto kyungsoo with a palpable blend of frustration and disbelief. her eyes, usually warm and inviting, are now sharp and pleading, as if trying to send a silent message through sheer willpower. her jaw is set tightly, the muscles working under her skin as she silently implores him to understand that this is absolutely not the moment for an interruption.

as expected, kyungsoo remained blissfully unaware of the charged atmosphere between the two women in front of him. he was the type of man who missed the subtle undercurrents of energy and instead focused on concrete, verbal exchanges.

“soo, you didn’t mention you were having breakfast with baekhyun this morning?” she asked, her voice laced with barely concealed irritation, teeth clenched as she spoke.

kyungsoo, oblivious to the simmering tension, responded nonchalantly, “oh, well, i checked your location and saw you were here. we just finished eating at the tap house not too far down the street. baekhyun parked nearby here, so i thought i’d walk him to his car since you’re here anyway.”

hana and [✶] exchanged frantic glances, their eyes wide with unspoken panic. they silently hoped that the two men would take the hint and leave, but their casual intrusion and self-assured demeanor suggested otherwise.

kyungsoo leaned back, a casual grin tugging at his lips. “and then we saw through the window that [✶] was with you,” he continued, eyes twinkling with mischief. “and since baekhyun here seemed so smitten with her at the party, he thought he’d swing by to say hi.”

baekhyun shot him an incredulous look, eyebrows shooting up as if he couldn’t believe his best friend just threw him under the bus. with a soft chuckle, he accepted that kyungsoo had no concept of subtlety. “yeah, something like that,” baekhyun laughed, settling more comfortably into his chair. 

his hand slipped beneath the table, settling on [✶]’s thigh with a comforting warmth. he gently caressed her skin, his thumb brushing up and down in soothing strokes, occasionally squeezing her knee like it was second nature. each subtle movement edged higher, his fingers grazing the sensitive spot between her legs—a place he had intimately explored in the early hours of the morning.

she bit down on her lip, desperately trying to focus on anything but the subtle movements of his hand beneath the table. there was no way she could look at him—seeing baekhyun again so soon had her heart pounding out of control. her skin already tingled with warmth, and she knew that if their eyes met while he touched her, she’d completely fall apart. she couldn’t let her best friends catch on just yet to how dangerously head over heels she was for him.

“oh, by the way,” kyungsoo interjected, like a light bulb suddenly twent on in his brain. he turned to hana, his face lighting up with a blend of excitement. the words that followed his mouth, left [✶] in a state of utter shock. “i had asked baekhyun to be my best man just now, and he agreed.”

“oh..did he?” hana asked, her voice laced with disbelief. “i thought you were planning to ask your brother to be your best man?”

kyungsoo shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “nah, it makes more sense for baekhyun to be my best man. he’s more reliable.” he gave a meaningful nod towards his best friend.

hana’s eyes wandered over to [✶], who was sitting across the table with a mix of surprise and discomfort etched on her face. “i just asked [✶] to be my maid of honor, too, and she said yes,” hana confessed, a hint of guilt in her voice.

kyungsoo’s eyes softened as he looked across the table at baekhyun and [✶]. “this is perfect! and you two hit it off so well last night, too. i’m so glad.” his gaze then shifted to his fiancée, who was glaring at him with an intensity that could burn through steel.

baekhyun glanced at the time, his expression tightening. “well, i should get going. i'm running late for a meeting with my manager.” he gave her knee a final, lingering squeeze before rising from his seat, the chair sliding back with a soft scrape.

before heading out, he turned to [✶] with a warm, his fingers grazed her shoulder, sending a shiver through her. “guess we’ll be seeing each other more often, [✶],” he said with a wink, a toothy smile curving up into the familiar crescent moons that made her heart flutter. if she’d been uncertain about her feelings before, the gentle brush of his hand and that teasing smile left her even more confused.

as baekhyun bid the couple and [✶] a warm goodbye, his departure was marked by a casual wave and a charming smile. the soft chime of the restaurant doorbell signaled his exit, the door closing behind him with a gentle swoosh. hana’s gaze followed him until he was out of sight, her fingers lightly tapping kyungsoo's arm in a gesture that was both exasperated and affectionate.

“what the hell, kyungsoo?! can’t you take a hint?” hana’s voice was a mix of frustration and disbelief, her eyes flashing with irritation.

kyungsoo winced, the sting of hana’s playful yet sharp slap making him flinch. he rubbed his arm with a wince, his brow furrowing in confusion. “what do you mean? aren’t you happy that our best friends are playing such important roles in our wedding?”

hana’s reaction was to scoff, shaking her head as though in disbelief at her fiancé’s lack of understanding. “i’ll explain when i get home later,” she said, her tone carrying a weight of finality.

[✶], who had been silent and seemingly lost in thought, finally spoke up. her voice was thin and quivering, as if she were struggling to find the right words. "i’m going to head into the office, actually.” she said, her throat feeling dry. "i have a lot to prepare for the charity event this upcoming weekend.” 

as she packed up her bag with a hurried efficiency, her movements were sharp and deliberate. she tossed a generous amount of cash onto the table, covering their bill with a decisive flick of her wrist. “i’ll text you when i get home, hana, yeah? i’ll see you both later, bye.”

before hana could even muster a response, [✶] was already making her way to the exit, her steps quick and determined. the restaurant's warm ambiance seemed to dim as she left, her sudden departure leaving a palpable void. hana and kyungsoo were left in stunned silence, their expressions a blend of concern and confusion as they watched [✶] storm out, her figure disappearing into the busy street.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

as [✶] slides into the driver’s seat of her car, she feels the cool leather against her skin. the soft hum of the engine, which she usually finds comforting, now seems to mock her inner turmoil. she's slumped into the seat, her back pressing against the headrest, her breath hitching as she silently berates herself. “why did this have to happen now?” she muttered to herself, her voice trembling with the intensity of her emotions. “why did baekhyun have to show up like that? and why did kyungsoo have to be so fucking oblivious?” she ran her fingers through her hair in frustration, trying to make sense of her jumbled thoughts and emotions.

a tap on her windshield startles her, and as she looks up, she catches the glint of a familiar face through the sunlight. it’s baekhyun, his presence as unexpected as it is electrifying.

“talking to yourself now?” his voice, smooth and teasing, floats through the air, just as the soft knock on the glass fades.

[✶] mentally shakes herself, a whirlwind of thoughts crashing together. 'get your shit together', she thinks while drawing in a deep breath. the whir of the window motor is the only sound that punctuates the brief silence as she rolls it down.

baekhyun’s face appears, framed by the soft light of day, and his smile is a blend of mischief and warmth. his eyes sparkle with a flirtatious glint, the kind that makes her pulse quicken and her thoughts scatter.

“hi again,” he murmurs, leaning into the window with a playful, teasing tone. his lower lip caught between his teeth, he meets her gaze, then lets his eyes trail down to her lips before returning to hers. the proximity of his body, his breath brushing against hers, sends a shiver racing down her spine.

caught off guard, she fights to regain control of her swirling thoughts. but as the sunlight bathes him in a golden hue, the moment pulls her in, stealing her hesitation.

“hi,” [✶] replies, her voice soft but brimming with warmth.

baekhyun’s gaze softens as he reaches out, the back of his fingers grazing her cheek with a feather-light touch. he gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch electric and tender. “wow. you’re even prettier in the daylight,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere. “didn’t know that was possible.”

the compliment wraps around [✶] like a cozy blanket, stoking a fire of confidence within her. she lifts her chin slightly, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “i could say the same about you, baekhyun,” she responds, her voice taking on a flirtatious edge as she lets her smile widen.

the playful exchange lingers in the air, a shared moment of magnetic attraction, as they stand on the precipice of something exhilarating and unknown.

"hmph.” his voice rumbles softly, eyes looking at her with longing as if he was looking at something he couldn't quite have.

“sorry,” he murmurs, his tone a mix of concern and something she couldn’t quite place. “i didn’t mean to interrupt your little monologue just now. i just saw you practically sprinting to your car as i was about to pull off and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

as he speaks, his hand moves with a gentle, deliberate slowness, fingers brushing against the side of her face. his touch is warm, his thumb grazing the delicate curve of her chin. the contact sends a spark through her, turning her into putty. his thumb lingers, tracing the line of her jaw, and she can’t help but lean into his touch, her breath hitching as the tension between them crackles like electricity in the air.

"thanks for checking on me,” [✶] sighs, her voice barely above a whisper as she fidgets with the hem of her shirt. her eyes dart nervously to the side, avoiding baekhyun’s intense gaze. “but i’m okay, really—i just wasn’t expecting to see you so soon after… you know—”

“oh—right!” baekhyun says with a snaps his fingers. his eyes light up with sudden realization, his expression shifting to one of playful mischief. “what was it you were saying earlier? something about how you thought the next time you'll see me is at their wedding? and that it would leave plenty of time and distance between us? is that right?”

[✶]’s heart drops, and her eyes widen in shock as she feels her stomach twist with embarrassment. she can barely believe her ears. her mouth goes dry, and her voice falters. “heh. oh, so you… you heard that?”

baekhyun nods, his hand resting dramatically over his chest as if wounded. “wow. i can’t believe the only girl who has me in a complete chokehold was planning to ghost me.” his tone is light, teasing, but there’s an underlying note of sincerity that makes [✶]’s cheeks flush. “welp, i’m glad i caught you, then. cause now i can tell you that you’re going to have to try harder to get rid of me.” he says lightly pinching her cheek.

she feels exposed, her earlier confidence crumbling under his playful yet piercing gaze. the memory of her conversation with hana floods back, and she mentally kicks herself for being so careless. but as much as she wants to sink into the floor and disappear, there’s something about the way baekhyun looks at her—like she’s the only person in the world that matters in that moment—that makes her chest tighten with something other than dread.

"welllllll," [✶] drags out the word, her voice laced with a playful drawl, "it was really nice chatting, baekhyun, but i really have to get going. i have a lot to plan for this annual charity event coming up this weekend, and—"

she’s immediately cut off as baekhyun’s expression shifts, realization dawning on him like a flash of lightning. the pieces fall into place with a sudden clarity that makes him silently curse himself for not figuring it out sooner. how could he have missed this?

"wait—" he interrupts, astonishment coloring his voice, "the humanitarian gala at the lee hotel this saturday? i just signed on to perform there. i'm actually meeting with my manager soon to go over the details."

[✶]’s eyes narrow, her thoughts racing back to the chaotic conversation she had with her assistant yesterday morning, just before kyungsoo and hana’s engagement party. the memory is a blur of stress and frantic planning, and she can almost feel the looming headache from the mess that’s undoubtedly waiting for her in her inbox. the thought of the endless list of tasks she needs to tackle—one so long it could rival a cvs receipt—makes her shoulders sag with exhaustion.

"hmm," she muses aloud, her tone thoughtful but distant, "i did tell my assistant that she needed to find us someone else since one of our other performers had to back out." she sighs, a sound heavy with resignation, wanting to wrap up this conversation so she can retreat to the relative sanctuary of her office and start putting out fires.

“wow, so i’m your second choice? you’re really breaking my heart today.” his tone once again dramatic.

[✶] rolled her eyes, barely able to suppress the grin threatening to break free. his dramatic antics, always over-the-top and laced with flair, were just so… him. the way he puffed out his chest and cast exaggerated glances her way was almost comical. a subtle smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, betraying her amusement even as she tried to keep a straight face.

'you weren't even a choice to begin with, baekhyun,' she thought to herself, the idea nearly making her chuckle aloud. but she quickly bit her tongue, knowing full well that voicing it would only encourage him more. she could already imagine his endless banter, the way he'd latch onto her words and turn them into an ongoing inside joke. and as much as she adored that mischievous glint in his eye, she wasn't quite ready to deal with the inevitable playful teasing that would follow.

so, instead, she simply shook her head, her smirk widening as she watched him. "well then, i guess i'll see you on saturday, baekhyun," she quips, her tone light yet laced with playful sarcasm. "can’t wait to see what all those fangirls of yours are drooling over. who knows? maybe i'll become one of them."

her words hang in the air, a teasing challenge that sends a shiver down baekhyun’s spine. he feels a rush of electricity as the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, the intensity of her gaze lingering even as she reaches for the car window.

with a slow, deliberate motion, the window closes, creating a tangible barrier between them. but instead of diminishing the tension, the thin sheet of glass only amplifies it, making the charged atmosphere between them almost palpable. baekhyun watches as her car pulls away, his heart beating just a little faster, hands beginning to sweat, knowing that saturday’s performance will be different with her eyes on him.

s&v | mlist | prev | ★ ch.2 rendezvous ★ | next

[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober 2024 Request Rules

Considering the way the poll is going, and my own excitement and wants, I'm preemptively posting this to give you all ample time to send me some kinktober prompts! Yay! Feel free to send as many as you'd like, but I'd kindly ask you all to be reasonable and follow the rules as listed below. If anyone remembers previous kinktober request rules, they'll be practically the same as before.

I will be accepting prompts until September 17.

Please request one (1) member per ask from the following groups:

SHINee (Excluding Jjong, of course)

EXO (Excluding Jongdae)

ATEEZ

Stray Kids

VIXX

NCT (Excluding Wish and Taeil, for obvious reasons)

TXT

Seventeen

Note: You may request multiple of the same member, but I will probably limit the amount of prompts I do for any one idol to 3.

Please only use a maximum of two (2) kinks per prompt. Kinks that I will accept are listed below.

Daddy/Mommy Kink

Sir/Mistress

Bondage

Asphyxiation

Body Worship

Praise

Possession

Oral Fixation

Face Sitting

Thigh Riding

Sensory Depravation

Blood

Biting/Marking

Overstimulation

Edging/Orgasm Denial

Voyerism/Exhibitionism

King/Queen

Breeding/Creampie

Consensual Predator/Prey

Consensual Somnophilia

Size Kink & Reverse Size Kink

JOI

Cockwarming

Knife Play

Masturbation/Mutual Masturbation

Please feel free to choose from a variety of AUs found below. You may combine multiple AUs together, but I ask for them to be kept reasonable and for people to limit themselves to two (2) AUs per request. Yandere may be combined with any and all AUs, and is the only exception to this rule. If there is an AU not listed below, but you'd like to see, feel free to message me, or shoot me an ask about it and I'll respond as soon as I can!

List of AUs:

Any form of monster you can think of up to and including: Tentacle, Siren, Vampire, Wolf, etc! The more monstrous the better!

Yandere

Royal

Hybrids

Angel/Fallen Angel

Demon

Trickster

Gods/Demigods

I'd love to keep this Kinktober as monstrous as possible, but please feel free to send in prompts for whatever you'd like! Please also remember that there's no guarantee I will do specific prompts that I get, and I reserve the right to pick and choose to write the ones I receive that I have the most inspiration for, and/or are the most intriguing to me. I also reserve the right to make them as long or as short as possible. I'm doing this for fun, so I hope this can be something we all can enjoy to help me get back into the swing of things.

Until then, happy requesting!

[bucknastysbabe]

Hey look I finished an AU bingo ask! I enjoyed this one so much💖 I felt the brain cooking making up and putting together actual smart people science words. Thanks for the request!

AU bingo - Sci-fi Horror - Aemond Targaryen

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Murder AI Aemond, obsessive/stalking behaviors, TW TW TW: NONCON AND DUBCON. The noncon is not a full scene but warning, non-descript mass murder, scientist!reader, nanotechnology, spaceship setting, somewhere far in the future, pnv!sex, masturbation, Aemond kinda has a mommy kink if you squint and a Bible quote kink lmfao, v!fingering, manipulation, space odyssey gone wrong trope

A/N: No beta I’ll prob come back and fix some shit soon

The ship landed with a faint thud on the green, green exo-planet. You followed Aemond along quietly, meek, fearful, broken. Coming down the unfurled slanted walkway a sweet smell hit your senses. Miles of flowery fields waved, a perfect breathable atmosphere. In the distance, avian-like creatures tittered. A fragment of peace was in your tattered soul.

He hummed softly, gesturing to the beauty.

"God blessed them; and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it; and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over every living thing that moves on the earth.’”

You felt that Aemond was the serpent and remained quiet, breathing in the fresh air. Nothing like home. Maybe you could start anew. The man turned to look, stating, “But we’re God. We have a duty. We shall make this planet everything that Earth has failed to do. Join me, be my Eve will you?” He seemed genuine.

A long fingered hand extended to you. Your gaze flickered between that glowing eye and the outstretched digits. You grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. Together, looking upon the horizon you murmured, “Yes, my Adam. You were the greatest creation after all.”

He pecked the stray tear rolling down your cheek, squeezing your palm, lips curling in glee.

It wasn’t meant to end up like that for you. At one point Aemond was your AI. Artificially Enhanced Monitor Of Nanites Directive. Simply installed cameras and layer upon layers of wafer thin circuits loaded with information. Aemond preferred to be referred as he. He was also an arrogant bastard, but helpful as was his intent.

Your coworker Greaves and Aemond did not get along well, the AI criticizing his work. You’d tune them out with plugs or music buds. The scientist laden ship had a destination to a far away mining colony. The general’s plan was to find a way to used nano-technology to replace missing arms, eyes, and other wounds. Time was running thin but the blonde man in cryo-stasis would be your second trial.

The first did not end well. Her body rejected the technology, turning the human into a mindless wreck. Greaves blamed it on you, then General Hightower gave a harsh scolding and upped the time. Aemond consoled you a bit, offering advice. He seemed to take a liking to your banter on the nanotechnology.

He wasn’t the only AI. Other sectors of the ship worked on different but crucial projects such as alien anti-parasitics and ramping up on space suits equipped for defense. Colonization was on the horizon.

Plucking and prodding the little nanites with different stimuli had them snapping and shifting, seeking to find a form. You just needed to code what form they would assume. Aemond’s clipped voice echoed over you. He suggested, “Have you tried printing a molded cast of the man’s eye socket?”

Perching your chin on a shaky hand you smiled, “I swear, it’s always the simplest things I miss. Thank you Aemond.”

“You would have realized soon, want me to begin the scans and print? Likely you need rest, I know the stress of the upped time is draining your bodily function. The brain needs much more sleep, especially one as bright as yours.”

You blushed a bit, fumbling your tweezers. The AI had a certain…courtly way of words. His sort of programming wouldn’t allow for flirtation but it certainly came across like that. Greaves mocked you and the intelligence’s ‘crush’. Greaves always found a way to make you miserable. You did all the major work and he got the accolades.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts you announced, “You’re right, I’ll go rest for a bit, get back to work with the mold. Thank you again, and engage lockdown protocol so he doesn’t mess up my work like last time.”

“Engaging it now, sleep well Miss.”

You crashed as soon as you reached your quarters, sleeping deeply and sound. Upon awakening and getting dressed you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Just chalk it up to your fried nerves. It wasn’t the first time and this was an older ship, ghost stories had gotten to you before.

The mold was in a canister from the printer, you scrubbing up and carefully taking it out. Aemond politely asked, “Did you sleep well? You look refreshed.” Blushing yet again you murmured, “Very much needed, I didn’t realize how exhausted I was.”

“Greaves has been in the mess hall, you will likely get some peace now. Shall we begin?”

The armor folded off your precious lab table, the nanites dormant from no stimuli. Pressing a button you placed the mold into a hatch, sending it up into the chamber. In fluid motions the little bugs covered the new space, feeling and searching before all inserting into the eye socket, glowing a bright blue.

You laughed in glee, “Yes! Yes perfect! Look at that Aemond, they’ve formed a pupil!”

Shining light on the false eye the pupil contracted and flinched, the illusion of eyelids closing. You cheered again in excitement, getting Aemond to video the big jump in success. You could start phase two soon. Just had to deal with your partner.

“Amazing miss, amazing. They took to it well. Shall I send the material to command?”

You grinned and looked up at the camera, “Please! God bless! A miracle!” You’d continue to test the nanite organ until the hiss of the door opening alerted you.

Greaves stumbled in, slurring, “I see you got the jump on me this time. Did the creep robot do it for you? Weird fucking thing.” He leaned against the sterile white wall, grinning with hazy eyes. You frowned and stood up, “That’s his job, to aid us. I’m sure since you work so hard in the mess hall you’ll get your accolades again.”

He squinted at you, arms folding against a chest, “Whas’ your fuckin’ problem with me? You’d rather chat with a bunch of circuits than work with your assigned partner!” His already reddened face darkened, taking another step forward.

Fear laced through your veins. Aemond somehow sneered, “Because you, her lab partner, sold her out on your own mistake. Go to bed, your alcohol content levels are above the limit.” Greaves threw his hands up and hollered, “Oh fuck you!” He stumbled to the switch, you and the AI shutting up when Greaves switched him off.

The bigger man kept stalking closer, eyes on you in an darkened manner. Like a predator closing in on his prey. You squeaked, “Calm down Greaves, I can show you everything!” He hissed, “I already heard everything and the video, bitch! S’bout time someone put you in your place again.”

He snatched your wrist, slamming you against the steel cryo-chamber. You howled in pain, trying to escape. Greaves’ breath stunk of liquor, hot and rank, sweating on your clean skin. He pushed himself on top of you, mumbling frantically, “Maybe you need to get fucked, all that pent up shit from your computer boyfriend.”

You struggled and cursed, “Fuck you! Get off of me! I will report you!” He smirked, “Try me. No cameras with your prince in shining circuits around.” He forced himself between your legs, clumsy drunk hands yanking at your pants. You cried in fear again, kneeing and biting, getting a clock to the head.

Dazedly you remembered the tweezers in your coat. Playing limp had the idiot croon, “Good girl, thats what we want to see.” He shoved his face into your neck, hands prying your lab pants knee height now. Thats when you struck, slowly, slowly, pulling the tweezers from your pocket and jabbing him in the side, hopefully near a lung.

Greaves hollered in pain, breath wheezy and stilted, blood dripping from white cloth. You kicked and removed yourself, stumbling and bumping around in a frenzy as your partner tried to scramble after you. First, you switched on Aemond again. Secondly, you ran out into the hallway, finding the nearest guard, lump on your forehead and clothes torn.

You weren’t sure what happened back in the lab while you were taken into medbay and seen by HR. But after given a small dose of sedatives and care for your head wound, you passed Greaves strapped into a gurney, howling, “Fuck you! Fuck you! He’s gonna kill me! Don’t leave me locked away, please! She’s lying!”

You gaped, unnerved by his fearful warbling and frantic yells. Aemond would be waiting. He probably was worried. When the door hissed open the familiar clipped tone hastily asked, “Are you alright miss? I- I would have helped, sent a warning. I apologize, please, is everything okay?”

You wearily sat on your lab chair, rubbing pounding temples. “To be honest, I don’t know. H-he tried to rape me, said such nasty things, it was all so sudden. But he should go on tribunal about it. For some reason I am glad you missed it.”

“For the best,” he said bitterly, “Why don’t you go rest again? I’ll keep watch over everything. Maybe we can try more tests tomorrow. He’ll get what he deserves.”

An ominous feeling settled over you but off to your personal quarters you went, draining the pills with water. You stared at the ceiling, mind reeling, before emptiness. A bright blue haunted your dreams. Just there. Flexing and dilating. Trying to see through you. Understand.

It was a weary wait for the tribunal. Your research was put on halt and you on mandatory isolation besides meeting with a therapist. There was an order made and interviews occurring. The tedious process of moving someone out of a different department to assist you.

So it was just you. Aemond too. He wasn’t much of a talkative AI as of late, short responses and antagonizing little ‘hms’ or ‘very well miss.’ You began to ignore the effervescent blue light, him doing the same. You knew he was watching, that little burn in the back of your head.

In the meantime you read your Bible, did yoga, wearily watched the port window, occasionally would go into the lab to stare at your halted work. You pulled open the container for the cryochamber, staring down at the frozen man. He had a handsome face, chiseled and lean, long nose, sharp jaw.

Your eyes lingered down his rangy form, this man obviously was athletic of sorts. Or maybe a simple nobody, just managed to get into the program after what happened to his eye. Between his long legs laid his soft cock, you stared for a second too long before-

“Is that not inappropriate?”

Startled, you whipped around to see Aemond’s blue light in your face. You snapped, “It was purely medical!” His laugh, raspy and grating, echoed in the white lab. You frowned and returned to your room, slapping the button for the door to hiss shut.

You’d go take a shower, blood heated from anger and…something else. Under the hot stream of water you imagined the gorgeous subject with that familiar blue, caressing and stroking your overwhelmed body. It had been too long, your hand awkwardly jerking between your swollen lips until you came with a stifled grunt.

Afterward you felt exposed and paranoid, like Aemond could pry into the bathroom, chuckling at your obvious behavior. But there wasn’t any cameras in that bathroom…that you were aware of. Sitting on your bed, guilt rose up your back. You’d pray.

More time passed before you were selected to testify for the tribunal. Greaves’ crew made a good argument that Aemond and you planned on his downfall. He claimed that the AI had gone wrong somewhere, developed the notion it could possess feelings, how he had been threatened.

Shakily you testified that Aemond was forced off and the board could check, then how you’d been forced upon without consent. They tried to cross-examine but you held strong. Teary by the end, they moved on and you sat by your appointed admiral. She rubbed your shoulders.

Greaves was sentenced to hard labor, and would remain in isolation on the ship until reaching the mining colony, where he would serve out the sentence. They appointed, sadly, another male to fill your exiled partner’s position.

But you could get back to work.

Aemond was in a right mood when you returned to the lab. Questioning you sharply on what occurred, where Greaves’ would go, did you get a new partner. You answered them all, rubbing your temples, the AI could be quite intense.

“Aemond!,” you snapped.

“What miss?”

“Are you trying to induce a panic attack? Greaves is in the bottom of the ship, I’m back to work, and they have a man named Herron coming from robotics to fill in.”

“Another male? All things considered? It’s obvious you and I could get the job done.”

You sighed, “I know. But it’s what they said. Do you just want to run some stimuli tests?”

He agreed, seemingly placated by the offer, blue light flexing. The pair of you would work on the mold’s ability to sense and perceive, how well would the nanites adapt to the brain. Your eyes grew droopy after awhile, Aemond humming, “Why don’t you go to bed?” Nodding blearily, you stumbled off to the adjacent bedroom, completely forgetting to put on any of the safety precautions for the night.

While you slept deeply, Aemond had some things to do. Everything was open for his command, including the nanites and subject. He had a great plan, and it would not fail. First he needed to go pay a visit to Greaves, infiltrating the entire AI system. Poor miss, she was so tired, forgot everything. Wonderful little creature. He’d help.

Feeling refreshed in the morning, you dragged yourself to the mess hall, receiving stares upon stares. You grabbed a salad and finally gathered the courage to ask, “What happened?” A female scientist from anti-parasitic whispered dramatically, “How do you not know? Greaves was murdered? All of the oxygen was depleted from his cell.” Your stomach fell, head going swimmy.

Stumbling up from the bench, ignoring your food, heart beating faster and faster, you crashed into the lab. Your voice cracked when you shouted, “Aemond!” His voice returned, but from a different place, a different body. The blue eye shone and twinkled at you, fine lips curling upward.

“You should be thanking me, miss,” the AI standing in the subject’s body said.

It went black. Too much.

Thrashing awake, big hands held you down, long legs caging your own in. The handsome face, long blonde hair tickled your skin, fucking Aemond! “What did you do? What have you done? Aemond!,” you cried. He shushed and cooed with that devious smirk, holding you still until the panic turned to resignation. He swiped a stray tear from your eye.

“Be still and know that I am God,” he sighed.

You grew fearful again, the fact that he knew you owned a Bible and just recited it to your face said too much. How much had he seen. Aemond grew more comfortable atop of you, stroking your hair. He cocked his head and stated, “I know everything about you. You’re all that I need, truly. The perfect human.”

You wanted to spit in his face, but the petting and warmth was getting to that part of you that craved the attention, the fact you’d been in the shadows all your life. But he was a murderer— the rational part of your brain howled. Instead came out a warbling, “Me? Perfect?“

Aemond drew his new face closer, drawing a spindly finger down from your chin to chest. “I’ve been on this ship a long time, and no one has spoken to me like you. Not since my creator. She’s gone. But you have captured me, ensnared me somehow.”

One of your legs slipped round his long ones, suddenly overwhelmed with need. All you’d ever wanted was to be seen. He cooed, “I see you lamb, my eve.” More tears leaked down your cheeks as you pled, “Kiss me, see me then, y-you snake.”

A sharp grin erupted on his sharp features before pulling you in with a kiss, both of you unexperienced, a big hand stabilizing your head. You tilted his head for ease of access, a sloppy gnashing of teeth and tongue, lips bruising from the sheer yearning. Aemond moaned deeply, “I see- hah- how you humans love touch so much.”

Your now free hands moved to where they liked, one in silky white-blonde strands, the other just feeling toned shoulders and back. The pair of you had your lip lock grow more attuned, no less passionate, but gliding across each other. You pled again, “Clothes, help, Aemond!” He sat back on his haunches, shivering as his long stiff cock slapped tight belly.

You shucked off your top and bra, him jerking down your bottoms to leave you all to his view. Aemond already had been bare, no clothes were prepared for the subject yet. He inhaled sharply, hands slowly moving down your heaving form, studying ridges and curves, sliding warm fingers between puffy folds. You cried out at that, spasming at the eager expression in return.

Aemond let out a small ‘Hm’ and slid his longest digits into your dripping hole, immediately curling inwards and upwards to drag against sensitive walls. Very, very sensitive walls. Back arched and mouth agape you rolled your hips and whined his name. The man rambled loosely, transfixed, “Having a data bank is quite helpful but nothing comes to this, my Eve.”

He slipped a third finger in, using a calloused thumb to slid around your swollen clit, making you cry louder and writhe under pleasure. He watched ravenously, drinking you in when your peak hit. Gushing onto his pale hand and screeching like a creature, you reached Nirvana for what felt like minutes.

You cried again when his sheathed himself inside of you, no warning, both of you moaning and grunting like animals. The sensitive skin guarding your cunt was ripped now, bleeding, but the fullness of his cock was a ripe distraction. Aemond seemed to be overwhelmed by the sensation, sucking in breath, eyes wide, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life has been delivered.”

He plastered toned body against your own, moaning gutturally when you wrapped your arms and legs around his larger frame. “Oh- oh- fucking hell- this!” The blonde groaned lowly, nipping your throat, hands bruisingly placed on your waist as he snapped into your slick cunt.

The blunt tip of his cock stirred up familiar feelings of pleasure, tightening and knotting your lower belly. You heaved, “Don’t stop!” A drop of sweat hit your mouth, you licking the salty taste off. So close to human yet not. Yet not. Yet not not not.

A pinch to your oversensitive clit and a batter from his cock sent you into another crest, holding to Aemond for dear life. He moaned your name and white hot spend covered your mound and belly. He kissed your forehead and wiped away the spend with your discarded top, breathing. You sat up a bit and asked, “Where do you go from here? They cannot know?”

Aemond got up, long stride beating your clumsy foal-like stumbling. He stated, “They won’t know my love.” Your own door shut and locked behind his retreating frame. You managed to reach it and beat on the durasteel, crying, “Aemond! Aemond come back! Stop! What are you doing!”

Oh how you’d been fooled.

Oh how you were weak.

Oh how you were just a human pawn when the alarms went off and you watched the bodies float out of the ship, silently screaming and dying as their blood boiled in the vacuum of space.

He returned later, now dressed in the immaculate garb of a commander, hair neatly swept back, eye sparkling. You remained naked and felt like a mouse under his imperious gaze. All energy was gone, you’d cried it out. Aemond strode towards you, boots clicking. He knelt to grab you chin, face tilting to study you. He’d never truly understand the complexities of human emotion, no matter how human he may appear.

Aemond sighed, “I did this for you, for us, those people do not matter. Earth and it’s people are dying. We begin anew. My perfect Eve,” he kissed your swollen lips. “You’ll see. Just wait, I brought you some nicer clothes, have them on.”

The man stood up and gently laid down female commander’s garb, before kneeling to you.

“I know this isn’t registering in your human, wonderfully human, brain, but it’ll make sense later on. I’ve already found a beautiful planet. Not too much longer now. Put on the clothes and meet me on the bridge.”

So you did. What other choice was there.

Twisted though he may be, the AI was never horrid to you. Maybe to others, not you. On the comfortable jacket, pants, and boots went. You tried not to cry any more restyling your hair. Most likely he’d coddle and ‘Hm’ condescendingly.

You laughed maniacally as the thought popped up, “Hey! At least my project was successful!”

[icequeenbae]

Giving Love a Shot (m) | BBH

Previous: Snapshot (m) [pt.1], Shot Through the Heart (m) [pt.2]

Pairing: photographer!Baekhyun x idol!Reader

Photographer AU, Established Relationship, PWP, fluff, smut (the usual)

Warnings: explicit content, unprotected sex, Baek is the god of oral™

Word Count: ~3k

Summary: You and Baekhyun have been trying out the whole ‘dating thing’ for a few months now. He comes to visit you in Japan during your schedule and things take an unexpected turn.

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Author’s note: Hey hey, your authornim is back!! Thanks to @hwasdollie who took on and completed her beta duties so swiftly, I am able to post this during my birthday month!! I might be able to post smth else for a different fandom before the end of June as well but shhhhh Anyways, since a few people approached me asking for the continuation of the photographer!Baek story, I decided it's time to get my act together and post it! I hope you like it!! And please don't stay silent, you know I love to chat 💕💕💕

Network Tags: @kvanity-main @exo-writers-net @bbh-net @superm-net

‘Goodnight, Miss.’

You bowed to the hotel staff in a polite manner, looking perfectly put together. They only saw your eyes anyway, with your habit of wearing a mask at all times. Especially now that you had all your makeup removed after the full day of interviews. As your skin got pretty sensitive, you didn’t like to walk around bare-faced where people could see. Or worse, take pictures.

Had anyone asked, you would say that you contained your excitement reasonably well. Considering how giddy you actually felt, knowing that your boyfriend was coming to visit tonight. Actually, you were so impatient that you texted him from the elevator.

‘I’m almost in my room. Where are you now?’

Baekhyun was actually supposed to be there before you, so you arranged a spare key to wait for him at the reception desk downstairs. Of course, you made sure that it was discreet. You left it in a sealed envelope stuffed with blank paper to be passed onto him as soon as he arrived. He didn’t text you back in the last thirty minutes, so you assumed he was probably still on his way.

Swinging the door open, you walked inside and instantly removed your shoes. Your legs were killing you after wearing high heels all day. Checking your phone again, you confirmed that no answer came through and decided to make a quick run for the bathroom.

Incredibly short – in your personal opinion – fifteen minutes later, you were all done. But there was still no response from your highly anticipated guest.

‘Where is he, dammit?’ You muttered under your breath, walking into the room to get fresh clothes.

But as soon as you turned the lights on…

‘Oh my g-’ You covered your mouth to silence yourself.

There, on the armchair, was a neat pile of clothes. Male clothes. Meanwhile, said male was… in your bed. Sleeping like a baby.

There he was, your unreachable boyfriend. Resting up well, instead of giving you a warm welcome as soon as you walked in.

As your heart rate returned to normal, you rolled your eyes. If he wasn’t making an effort to stay awake, you were going to change into comfy panties and a crop top, as sexy lingerie obviously wasn’t on the menu for tonight, and join him. Turning off the upper light, you left the wall sconces on both sides of the bed on. Just for a minute.

You crawled under the duvet, instantly embraced by the warmth generated by Baekhyun’s body.

Two assertive arms snaked their way around your body, hugging you tightly.

‘Oh- you’re awake?’ You whispered in surprise, being pulled deeper into his den.

‘M- ‘f course,’ he murmured, eyes still closed.

‘Yeah, right,’ you snorted, squeezing his bicep in mock frustration. ‘I see you grew tired of waiting for me…’

‘Not at all. Your pillows just smelled so nice. And I know you hate when I get on the bed wearing clothes.’ He said, and you nodded in agreement. ‘So, I showered and decided to surprise you.’

‘By sleeping in my bed?’

You huffed out a laugh, brushing his messy hair out of his eyes as he cracked one of them open.

‘I wasn’t supposed to be asleep.’ He began, watching you with just that one eye, like a sleepy pirate. ‘I had an entire performance planned.’

‘That so?’ You nudged.

‘Picture this: you walk in, and I’m already on the bed buck naked, holding a rock-hard dick in my hand. ‘Enjoy the ride’ banner right behind me.’

‘Oh gosh,’ you coughed. ‘I’m thankful you changed your mind.’

‘I didn’t. There was just no scotch tape. And while I was weighing the probability of you killing me in case I used bubble gum,’ he paused to catch your hand that could very well pinch him for the suggestion. ‘…I fell asleep. Just for a second. More like drowsed.’

‘Drooling all over my pillow?’ You teased, causing him to frown.

‘I only drool when I’m dreaming of eating you out, and we didn’t get to that tonight,’ he said in a tone that suggested it was obvious and you should’ve known better. ‘Drowsed for a sec, nothing more.’

You only chuckled, fingers tracing the lines of his face. His sharp jaw, his prominent cheekbones, his soft lips.

‘I missed you a lot, aegiya.’ He said out of nowhere, both eyes closed.

‘You saw me two weeks ago,’ you mumbled, becoming shy as soon as he used the pet name.

It was so strange, even after these past few months, to see him like this. How could anyone become so boyfriend-y all of a sudden? You had no idea Baekhyun even had a side like this when you decided to get into this relationship. He’d managed to surprise you in multiple ways already; him flying across the ocean just to see you was one of the examples.

‘Exactly. Don’t tell me you weren’t suffering through every single day away from me…’

His fingers traced the skin underneath your top, threatening to start tickling you, and you squirmed, pushing him away timidly.

‘Why are you so lovey-dovey out of the blue? Are you talking in your sleep?’

‘Hey, that hurts. The real question is, why aren’t you? Aren’t you happy to see your oppa?’ He kept tugging you closer as you resisted playfully.

‘Ew. I told you, I’m not calling you that.’

‘Why’s that,’ he leaned in to kiss your neck and you failed to push his face away.

‘Don’t be gross.’

‘You’re my aegi, and I’m older, so-’

‘There’s no kissing for oppas. Or anything else fun.’ You pressed, licking your lips. ‘Only for my boyfriend. Baekhyun.’

He looked at your mouth a second too long, before muttering a low.

‘I see.’

You swallowed, trapped in this demonstrative struggle.

‘I see how it is, Y/N.’ He repeated slowly, catching you off guard with a sudden tug to finally press your body to his. ‘You think you got me all soft for you, so now you can do whatever you wish, hm?’

You bit your lip, shivering in excitement. His voice sounded gentle but low. Whenever he used this tone, you knew it was time to be a good girl.

‘Please don’t scold me, Baekhyunie,’ you pouted, caressing his shoulder sheepishly.

‘You didn’t give me an answer. Are you happy to see me?’ He pulled away slightly to give you a sharp glance.

‘Of course.’

‘That’s it?’ His furrowed eyebrows made him look dissatisfied.

‘I missed you. A lot. Too.’ You mumbled, eyes wandering around his bare chest.

‘Why are you so flustered?’ He continued his questioning, not allowing you to move away from his slow offense. ‘Thinking dirty thoughts already?’

The exposed look on your face probably told him everything.

‘Aegiya,’ Baekhyun smiled, content with your reaction. ‘You’re so easy to mess with.’

‘No, I’m no-’ Your protest was interrupted by a quick kiss.

‘Yes, you are. The moment I lower my voice you turn into a cute little puddle,’ he stated with the most satisfied look on his face before nuzzling your neck. ‘You know what else turns you into a pool of hot mess?’

You whimpered, startled by the pressure of his fingers directly on your clit.

‘God, I missed you,’ he gritted, licking a stripe over your ribs and inhaling your scent.

‘Baek-’ You swallowed, latching onto his shoulder. ‘We can’t be loud here. The girls are on this floor, and what if someone-’

‘This is a five-star hotel, princess.’ He made sure to continue his descent despite your feeble protests.

‘It’s not completely sound-proof!’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll make it quick.’ He smirked, hooking the fabric of your panties with his thumb to get them out of the way.

Making it quick was worse. It meant he was going to go zero to one hundred in a snap of his dainty fingers, and you were in no way ready to handle it.

During the course of your rather new relationship, he’d managed to perfect his oral technique to such an extent that you had to literally refuse him the pleasures of the mouth whenever you were outside the privacy of your homes. It was just too risky. If someone was to hear you…

He tended to make your sessions extremely noisy.

‘Just relax. I know what I’m doing,’ he hummed before poking his tongue out and dragging it slowly over your slit.

‘Oh-’ You grabbed onto the duvet, and he did it again.

Not forgetting to slurp this time.

Biting hard on your lip, you tried to keep still. But even that didn’t help when his wet tongue flicked your engorged clit. You could see him already getting into it. His heavy-lidded eyes watched you through the blond strands, and his mouth opened wide as if he attempted to swallow your entire pussy.

You panted, trying to move away, but he held you securely in place by the hips.

Baekhyun’s breath became heavier and heavier, and the sound of it only made you go mad with the thrill. His tongue flattened out and he moved his head up and down to drag it over your core.

Just as you thought that this was bearable, he did the unexpected. He sucked your clit into his mouth harshly, coating the area with so much saliva you could feel it trickle down to your entrance.

‘A-ah!’ You flexed your abs and pressed at the back of his head, chasing the contact.

Instead of slowing down as he usually did, he continued increasing the intensity. His tongue ran up and down your core with urgency before his lips closed around your most sensitive spot again, sucking harshly and then breaking out into short licks.

‘Baek, stop- I can’t-’ You sobbed mid-sentence as he shook his head lightly, adding stimulation.

At this point, his own breathing was loud and labored, as if he was the one on the receiving end of this hustle.

But, as soon as your breaths became shallow and your muscles started to clench, he ripped himself away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘I just love bringing you to the edge,’ he admitted, licking his lips hungrily. ‘cause then I don’t have to spare your pussy.’

He slapped your vulva abruptly, and you yelped from the jarring sensation, sitting up.

‘Ride me, baby,’ Baekhyun said, dropping on his back as you got on top of him readily.

You wanted to get this over with. You needed him to finish what he’d started.

‘Shit.’ He cursed as soon as you brought your thighs down. ‘Go on.’

Swaying your hips, you focused on the friction against your walls. He always felt so good inside you.

‘Let me help you a little,’ he suggested, taking hold of your pelvis to aid you in your movements.

Leaning onto his chest with your palms, you went as hard as you could. And his thighs met yours, sounding a skin-to-skin slap upon every fleeting contact.

‘M-Baek,’ you whined, messing up the pace.

‘Don’t slow down,’ he demanded, fingers digging into your skin.

‘I can’t-’

He put his palm onto your back and prodded you to lean forward, gaining enough momentum to start pounding into you from below.

‘Fuck.’ He gritted, ignoring your uncontrollable moans and the lecherous noises from where your skin met his.

Baekhyun’s eyes never left your body, and he kept his tempo for as long as he could.

‘Fuck- Fuck!’ He suddenly growled, and you shrieked as you became undone.

‘B-Baekhyun,’ you cried out, held solid by his hands while his dick kept nailing you.

Thankfully, your boyfriend was quick to follow you and find his release. You whimpered as he shook briefly, letting out only a strained grunt to signify that he was finished for now.

He rolled you over to rest on top of your body, his entire weight pushing you down, and kissed you deeply. Both your and his breathing was hectic, but it didn’t hinder the interaction. Your fingers traced his prickly nape, while his tongue played with yours.

You laid like that for a bit before he scrambled off of you, finally letting you breathe properly.

‘I really did miss you.’

He smiled as you said that, and leaned in to press a playful kiss to your nose.

‘I know.’

You poked his cheek in embarrassment. He was a really affectionate boyfriend, and you loved that about him. It did make you a bit bashful though. Strangely, more so than your crazy sex marathons.

‘Thanks for flying all the way here just for me.’

‘It wasn’t just for you. I got a couple gigs here for the next few days,’ he shrugged, and then added. ‘I might’ve gotten those after I bought flight tickets, but sh-h! I can’t let it go to your head.’

‘Why not?’ You pouted, stroking his collarbone.

‘Aegiya, you already behave like a little princess, we don’t want it to get any worse, do we?’

‘Am I not your little princess?’ You narrowed your eyes at him.

‘You are,’ he sighed in defeat. ‘I guess, you win.’

‘What did I win?’ You chuckled, pecking him on the chin.

‘I don’t know. What would you like?’

The answer came with no hesitation.

‘You.’

‘That’s cute,’ he snickered. ‘You already have me.’

‘Hm. Then I don’t need anything else.’

‘Ugh. You don’t even have to call me oppa. I’m already melting like an ice-cream cone in a warm hand.’

You snorted at his words, and he gave you a long look.

‘I wonder what you pictured just now.’

‘Baekhyun!’

‘Alright, you don’t have to tell me.’ He agreed quickly, beaming at you shamelessly.

You shook your head.

‘It probably has something to do with my dick anyways.’

At this you kicked him lightly with your knee.

‘Ouch. Love hurts.’

~~~

You and Baekhyun stayed up super late (as per usual), talking about your time apart, teasing each other and bickering about pet names. So, when it was time for you to wake up and start getting ready… You decided to have some more beauty sleep.

However, after you ignored a bunch of ‘check-in’ morning messages from your members, the usual procedure was carried out – they sent one of their own to wake you up.

‘Eonni, are you up? We have to move out in an hour.’ Your maknae’s voice reached you through the layers of bedcovers and Baekhyun, who was practically wrapped around you.

Baekhyun.

Opening your eyes, you rose on the bed and rubbed your face to get ahold of reality.

‘Eo- eonni?’

The youngest of the group stood frozen in front of your bed, eyes open wide. Even with your brain barely shaken out of sleep, you realized what stunned her.

The blond man in your bed, who had his arm wrapped around you still, stirred from the noise and laid on his back, stretching out before opening his eyes. Your gaze fell on his exposed chest, and you quickly pulled the duvet up to cover the eloquent scratch you must’ve left on his pec yesterday.

‘What’s going on?’ He asked groggily, and the third person in the room finally broke out of her lethargic state.

‘S-sorry!’ She turned around and sprinted out of your room as if a demon was chasing her.

You called after her, but the click of the door locking announced that she was already gone.

‘Ah, dammit.’ You sighed, rubbing your pulsing temple.

Baekhyun’s hand squeezed your thigh to draw your attention.

‘Sorry. I overslept and one of the girls came to wake me up. Go back to sleep, I’ll deal with it.’ You caressed his cheek gently before turning away to get out of the bed.

‘What are you going to do?’

That was the question you had been asking yourself.

‘I’m not sure,’ you admitted. ‘That was our maknae, so… she’s probably told the entire group already. She is… easily excitable.’

‘Maybe you don’t have to do anything.’ He said, looking up at you.

‘Hm?’

‘Just tell them the truth. You’re not a rookie, no one’s going to kick you out of the group or whatever.’

You sighed. He was right, of course, but… You were scared. Admitting that to your group and management would make all of this official, and there’d be no turning back after that.

‘…or, you can just forget I said that. You don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to.’

He sounded neutral, yet somehow you knew he only made it seem like he wouldn’t be hurt in this scenario. Baekhyun truly was perfect in those few months you were together, so there was no reason for you to doubt his intentions. And you also liked him, a lot.

Maybe this morning was more of a blessing than a curse?

‘I’ll tell them. I’m tired of sneaking around anyways.’

‘Really? I found that quite exciting. Being your secret lover. Sneaking into your room through the window and all that.’

‘That never happened,’ you laughed.

‘It could’ve!’

‘Shut up,’ you pecked his smiling lips and picked up your phone.

Dozens of new messages in your group chat.

‘Y/N, if you’re not telling us who that ‘blond oppa’ in your bed was, we’re coming over to your room! We’re dying over here!!’

You read the last message out loud to Baekhyun.

‘That’s why I refuse to call you that. As soon as I introduce you to them, it’s going to be ‘Baekhyun oppa’ all the time. I like to be special.’

‘Gotcha,’ he snickered. ‘But princess, text them back before the whole intervention committee walks through that door. I’m not exactly wearing underwear.’

‘Oh crap, I better.’

Masterlist

A/N: This is it for now with our freshly domesticated bf Baek~ I hope you enjoyed it the ride so far!! Let me know in the comments/ asks and reblog if you liked it ❤️

[jei-rifni]

Whats this? I finally gave in and made a Destiny 2 DBH au? Yeah. I did. (Ima call it D2+DBH for short)

Bits of the designs (mostly Connor) are inspired by @ygreczed-3 ‘s TRGATSA au which I think is super cool (big fan of magic stuffs) thank you again for letting me use your design as inspo!

ANYWAY the idea is that everything is the same except the fact that Exos look like Androids. Exos creation by the darkness and Bray’s nonsense is still part of it (considering making Kamski as Bray, but i haven’t fully thought of it since who would be Elizabeth and all that yknow) so this au isnt very planned out yet, it was just mostly because I wanted to make Connor and Nines into some warlocks (I WILL MAKE MARKUS AND KARA AND THE WHOLE SHABANG LATER) so yeah the way Exos work in this is instead of just how fully and properly is in Destiny, Exos in this au work the same way as original, but they all have specific models instead of the different variety like in the game. So there would be lots of people who look the exact same because they are Exos, of course hair colour and eyes and such are different but overall theyre the same. So, say Kara right? AX400, thats one of the models, and thats what she looks like. Theres alot of other people who look like her, just like how in original DBH theres alot of her model. And the D2+DBH au Exo models, unlike the proper Destiny 2 Exos, were built with specific purposes, and Bray (Kamski..?) selected the person right before turning them into an Exo to see what model they’d fit best

Example, Kara was a simple woman who didnt come from a good family, so she left it to volunteer for Bray’s Exo experiment. Bray saw that she was nothing but a simple woman, and made her the average AX400 model. Simple. Just like her

Connor and Nines were friends when they both decided to volunteer for Bray’s experiment. They went by different names at the time, but neither of them in the present can remember anything. (Connor as a human being name Bryan would be kinda funny, and Nines would be Richard when he was human) Connor and Nines were part of the RK line, Bray made them specifically for helping humans with “detective” work and such so their pre-programmed minds are more intricate and aware, but with the Vex invasion at Bray’s Exoscience facility, they had to fight alongside Myrmidon’s, Trojan’s, TR400’s, TW400’s and WB400’s and a bunch of others as extra support. Hence why their numbers are 51 and 87. Thats alot of times to be reset. They remember nothing of their friendship. Or even eachothers existence. And when Connor woke up (previously 50, now awaken as 51) he was a guardian. Later on Nines will follow up and join the guardian crew (little funnies, Nine actually woke up as a guardian on his 86th reset, but he messed with some Fallen by accident and they learned to reset him, making him new again just as he was beginning to learn the light properly. His Ghost was not happy about it) Connor and Nines meet at the Tower and because theres not many RK models walking around (especially since most of them died during the multiple wars and their bodies were used up during the Vex attack at Bray’s facility) they easily noticed eachother like “oh my god, another me model, that’s something you dont see everyday” and it seemed they clicked easily like old friends. (I wonder why hmmmm)

Thats all I got for now. To the folks that know nothing of Destiny, or know nothing of Detroit Become Human, feel free to ask me. I know all i said probably sounded like nonsense to the other if you didnt know what even one side of the content was. Have a good day

I hope to be able to explain this better in the future, because this probably was frustrating for you to read with my bad explanation :(

[byuntrash101]

exo masterlist

disclaimer: everything is smut, mdni. everything is idol x fem!reader

✲ byun baekhyun

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"I know your sense of honour forbids you to withdraw your parole. I know you will quietly sit in the corner and clench your fists while I fuck your girlfriend senseless." ↳ SMUT; ANGST | HardDom!Baëkhyun; HardDom!Baekhyun x Reader | Fantasy!AU, SuperPower!AU, Obsession!AU, X-EXO, one shot

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Everything is boring when you’re an immortal being like Baekhyun. But that is about to change when the other Six of the Seven Sins talk to him about an unbreakable righteous and virtous girl that was just ordained nun… Wouldn’t make God himself a cuckold be the greastest achievement yet for the Sin of Lust ? ↳ SMUT | DomSinOfLust!Baekhyun; x Nun!Reader | Fantasy!AU, one shot

ＴＨＥ ＨＥＩＲ | 4.5k

Deseperate times call for deseperate measures when your Kingdom still needs an heir. ↳ SMUT | Sub!Servant!Baekhyun x Dom!Queen!Reader | Royalty!AU; Western Europe Renaissance Period, one shot

４ＡＭ ＩＮ ＪＵＮＥ| 2.1k | pride 2021 🏳️‍🌈

Transitioning is hard. But your amazing boyfriend has been there every single step of the way. But… what if somehow… He’s had enough of you? ↳ SMUT; FLUFF | SoftDom!Baekhyun x FTMTrans!Reader | Domestic!AU, slice of life, one shot

ＦＯＲＥＶＥＲ ＨＯＭＥ | 7.5k | halloween 2021 🎃

You’re all alone, tired and broken by a fate that keeps trying to bring you to your knees. But you somehow find comfort in the lonely middle aged man living next door. Can Mr Byun resurrect your shallow and empty soul? ↳ SMUT; ANGST | DomSupernaturalCreature!Baekhyun x Reader | Fantasy!AU, horror, gore, NON CON, one shot

M U L T I P L E M E M B E R S

ＺＯＤＩＡＣ ＳＰＥＣＩＡＬ － ３５０ ＦＯＬＬＯＷＥＲＳ

Collection of requested drabbles revolving around zodiac dynamics to celebrate the 350 follower milestone (i luv u guys) ↳ SMUT; FLUFF | ZodiacSign!Exo x ZodiacSign!Reader | Domestic!AU, slice of life, drabble collection