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hwajin · 9 months ago

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☆°. — ᴋɪss ᴇs

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hyunjin x afab!reader

𝐰𝐜: 3.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: oral (afab receiving), very soft, lots of tension

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: something sweet for valentines day!! it's a bit rushed, hope you enjoy it nontheless <33

You lay sprawled across the bed, a book in hand. You had no blanket on you, yet you felt warm, and a heavy weight was pressing you down; Hyunjin was snoring softly against the sensitive crook of your neck, working far better than any weighted blanket you could acquire. His arms, lanky and long, were snaked around you, tightly, holding you so close that you almost didn’t believe that he was sleeping, that he was only pretending so you wouldn’t shoo him off. Not that you ever would, in the first place; you enjoyed being crushed beneath his weight far too much to ever deny his affection and love.

One hand of yours was tangled in his hair, massaging his scalp — you figured it was the very thing which has put him into his semi-deep slumber in the first place, so you only stopped it when necessary, after finishing a page and turning to the next one. Hyunjin's soft grunts of protest never went unnoticed; you huffed in amusement every time your fingers untangled from his messy locks and he sighed out in tired disagreement, before sounding entirely content again the moment your hands found themselves deep in his locks again. It was endearing. You thought you could find eternal happiness right then, right there.

It must have been several minutes, and you were twenty-something pages further in your book when the man stirred, suddenly, without a reason — you were but a statue beneath his body, not moving even an inch to not disturb, to not wake. Yet he stirred, moved around atop your body; his face buried further into your neck, tickling you, his breath hot and intoxicating, burning on your skin. He hummed, arms tightening around you - if possible - and he looked up at you. He was awake, though he didn't look it. His hair was an adorable mess, falling over his eyes and standing to all directions, his eyes barely open and puffy, only a little, and his left cheek wore the imprint of your shirt he had laid on. Endearing. You thought you could find eternal beauty if you as much as looked at him. Even minutes after waking up.

You giggled, softly, your hand still in his hair, still massaging.

"Hi."

He huffed out amusement at that, closing his eyes to bask in your antics at his hair, leaning into your hand, fully at peace. He hummed again, in satisfaction now, in pleasure, and it sent a shock of electricity throughout every fibre of your body. He must have noticed, must have sensed you tensing up, and he smiled - not in malice, simply acknowledging. A shiver ran down your spine then.

"You're still reading, huh?"

Hyunjin's voice sounded quietly through the room, almost melodic, harmonizing with the birdsong outside. It didn't disturb the silence, only added to the atmosphere, leisure, lazy, loving. You nodded at his question, continued massaging the skin in his nape, hummed, then, affirmatively. There was a lot of humming in the room, sighs and huffs instead of words, for words seemed, almost, too heavy; and you understood each other without.

Hyunjin's face buried into your neck again - though not without a plan this time, not to merely rest. He kissed the skin there, softly, patient. Slow. As though dragging out his movements would make the moment last forever. He kissed, open-mouthed kisses, wet kisses, loud kisses, stingy kisses; he couldn't help but bite down on you every other moment, not a lot, enough only to show purest affection, most primal desire.

Your skin was sensitive. You were shivering in his hold, you were shivering at the feeling of the warmth his breath glazed over your neck. He was holding you close, his hands exploring the expanse of your back; though barely noticeable. He was barely even moving his hands, so slow you weren't sure he was at all, until you noticed them laying elsewhere, suddenly - close to your neck, then the small of your back, then wrapping around your shoulders from behind. Always pulling you closer. Always keeping you near, as much as physically possible. You moaned out quietly, softly, barely even audible, but it dizzied him, and Hyunjin bit down against the back of your ear with more fervour than before. You mewled, and you felt him smile against your skin.

When he spoke his next words, his voice was muffled, absorbed almost entirely by your body.

"Read for me. Out loud… please."

You chuckled, not less because the words against your skin sent tickles down the entirety of your body. Hyunjin, despite his wish, stayed buried in your neck; he was nibbling at the lobe of your ear now, kissing there a second after, listening to the way your breath hitched in your throat. He wasn't making a move to separate from you - you tried shoving him off, giggling softly in the process.

"You need to let me... actually read, then"

Your voice was quiet, amused, and followed momentarily by a sigh of pleasure. Hyunjin licked at the goosebumps on your neck, right where it connected to the shoulder; your favourite spot, the most sensitive one. He hummed out in disagreement, didn't as much as raise his head to answer you.

"Just read. While I...", he traced off, kissed your shoulder, touched your waist, squeezed your hips; he looked up at you with puppy eyes, and you nearly lost it all, "...do this..." More kisses to your body; seemingly, he wanted to cover every possible inch of you in traces of his love. If to mark you his, or to remind himself of having you, you weren't sure, but you loved it all the same.

So you read. With his lips on your body, distracting you embarrassingly from the words you tried to make sense of. They didn't quite, and after having read an entire page you lost sight of the plot, entirely. What you never lost sight of, never lost feeling about was Hyunjin's body on your own, his melting into yours. He was consistent, determined, almost. It was pathetic how often your voice trembled and shook when his lips met your body anew; you ought to be used to it already, now that his kisses had reached the expanse of your chest, your collarbones, now that he nibbled right below your shoulders - yet you weren't. You hissed every time his mouth swallowed you whole, every time his wet lips came in contact with an additional inch of your body. You would never get used to it, would never grow tired of him.

You read, and he kissed. Kissed your body away, not leaving a spot of yours undoted. And his hands were sinful. They were wandering, exploring your body while you tried not to lose hold of the book with your own trembling fingers. You tried to keep your composure, tried to be coy when Hyunjin's nimble, cold fingers, far too long for his own good, far too sensual, unclipped the first button of your sleepwear. You stopped reading when he opened the next one - though the man merely looked at you from below his lashes, eyes dark and blown out, urging you on to continue while another kiss met your body. You blinked, once, twice, five times, watching him cover your chest in kisses and love-bites, in spit and hushed confessions. You watched him open another button - at that point your chest lay entirely in the nude, your lack of underwear always delighting the man, and the little bit of stomach Hyunjin had exposed was covered momentarily in his mouth. You watched him, long forgotten the literature in your hands; and then he stopped. Suddenly stopped sucking on your skin, licking and biting on it, easing it with kisses instantly. He stopped moving his hands along your body, too - he looked up at you, expectantly, waiting. You watched him, and he only reciprocated your gaze.

"Read."

Not a command, yet his voice was but a whisper, and it sent thousand shivers to your core. They ran all across your body, the shivers, painting you in goose flesh before they collected right between your legs, right where the man’s body was laying, right where you needed him, right where he was miles away from, seemingly. He wouldn't give in too easily. You knew him - he would drag it out, he would wait on you to continue reading, which, stupidly, you were oh so unable to do, with him all around you, and he wouldn't give you what you craved for before he'd complete his travel on your body, before his lips had tasted every inch of you excessively.

So you continued reading. Shakily, your voice trembling, though you couldn't be embarrassed by it, not when seconds later you felt Hyunjin's lips on your skin again, seemingly satisfied. He had reached your stomach, left wet patches where his mouth met, left love-bites. Left smirks, too; you could feel his amusement on your body whenever your breath hitched in your throat, whenever you restarted a sentence because your voice had trailed off to sighs of frustration. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed that you enjoyed it.

It must have been ages until he had opened all buttons on the flimsy pyjama top you were wearing. You were squirming by then, impatient, intoxicated, needing. Hyunjin lay between your thighs, his face now levelled with your lower tummy, with your core. His arms were snaked around your thighs, holding you close - so close you thought he was scared that you'd slip away if he let go for only a second, but you didn't mind it. You felt his hot breath on your skin, his hotter mouth on the plush of your stomach, the cold breeze against your hardening nipples. Your senses overwhelmed, and Hyunjin wasn't making it easy on you, either; he continued kissing, continued licking, never stopped biting at your body, doting on all his favourite parts, caressing all your favourite spots. He knew you inside and out, he knew the sensitivity of your inner thighs, he knew you enjoyed feeling his breath fawn over it before he gave it a kiss - so he did just that, and he smiled to himself when you mewled out his name. You couldn't keep reading. It was impossible for you to.

"Hyun..."

Your voice was quiet, as though shy; it was needy, too, and if Hyunjin wasn't so focused on basking in your pleasure, he'd blow right then and there. He'd lose his mind over the way your thighs tensed with every kiss he planted there, how your body squirmed when he neared your core, only to pull away again and lick and kiss near your knees. He almost whimpered out in bashful satisfaction at the way you stopped reading, entirely, to call out his name, to let your hands search for his hair, to pull on it slightly when you found it moments later - he lost himself in everything you were, in everything he loved about you.

Though he could keep his composure, just enough. Seemingly mirically, because his body was reacting to your own like flames, igniting one another and impossible to put out. He was as hot as you felt, as intoxicated, just as needing.

"You gotta keep reading, babe."

Another kiss to your inner thighs, an open-mouthed one, a wet one. He was determined to drive you insane.

You whimpered, huffed out in what sounded like amusement. Hyunjin looked up at you, his mouth never breaking contact with your skin. He watched your closed eyes, the way you relished in the feeling of him, the way you were asking for more, silently, wordlessly. The way your body was pleading, the way he could read it without you saying as much as a word about it. He continued kissing, waiting for an answer. He moved slow, giving attention to every inch of your body before he even thought of moving on.

"Feels so good, though."

He trembled at your words. He shivered at the shake of your voice, at the sigh that followed it. He wanted you, he needed you, always. He would never grow sick of it. He would never grow sick of you. You lay there before him, and you wanted him. You lay there so vulnerable for him, and only him. You lay there, and were so honest about your pleasure, pleasure only he could give you; Hyunjin would never grow tired of the way you loved him.

Though, mirically, he continued keeping his composure. Witchcraft, surely, because you were irresistible, having pulled him in entirely, long ago.

"I know... wanna hear you read to me, though."

Your sigh of frustration was music to his ears. The scent of your clothed core, your scent, the feeling of the plush of your thighs, your bare chest, your tortured expression, your fingers in the depth of his hair - it was his death sentence.

"C'mon."

So you continued reading. Because you knew him enough to know he was patient - though, barely, just enough - to not give into you too fast, only to relish in you more. You continued reading, and every further word of yours made him move closer to your core. Shaky words, trembling words, though you made it through one sentence, then through another. And Hyunjin's mouth was closer, and closer, and closer to where you needed him so very urgently.

It must have been ten sentences when his fingers fanned over your waist, the part where your underwear cut into your flesh. He toyed with the elastic band, let it wrap around his fingers, only teased to take it off though never did. Not for another minute, not for another two. He stopped entirely when you stopped reading; only when you picked it up again he continued his ministrations. After a moment or two, Hyunjin pulled down your underwear, though only enough to expose a bit of your pubic bone. You hissed, voice fading almost into nothingness, though you kept reading until a kiss of his met your skin. You hissed again, then, and you were ready to kill him for the past thirty minutes of teasing, and doting, and malice, and loving. You needed him, and you weren’t sure how much longer your patience could hold out.

Hyunjin kissed your thighs. He didn’t leave your core forgotten, though – his mouth sucked onto the plushest part of your inner leg, right below your sex, and his fingers tangled into the waistband of your white, lacen panties, his favourite pair, to take them off you, slowly. If you hadn’t been quick enough, or attentive enough, or far too hyperaware of every of his movement, you wouldn’t have as much as noticed how you, excruciating moments later, lay before him in the nude, almost entirely – only your pyjama top adorning you, though it was barely enough to leave anything to the imagination. And Hyunjin yet took his time, yet didn’t give into you – you weren’t sure how he did it. You were exposed, you were vulnerable; though he acted like you weren’t, for a while longer. His lips painted most frustrating picture on your thighs, travelling to the hollow of your knees – slowly, relishing in your squirming, basking in the way your skin felt against his, as you relished in the way his hands accompanied his lips’ journey along your heated body. You were hot, very much so; Hyunjin ignited you with every touch, with every kiss, with every lick of his sinful tongue – he ignited you, even, with a gaze, eyes so lewd and speaking you didn’t know what was harder; looking straight into them or keeping track of your reading.

And it was when you lost your patience altogether, entirely, finally, that he did, too. It was a mewl, barely a whisper, even; you were surprised Hyunjin heard the weak call of his name in the first place, the plead in your voice, the longing. And it wasn’t a second after that his lips, the ones that had been tracing your body for seeming hours, for and eternity, that had covered you in spit and love and longing and passion, finally connected with your wetness. You were dripping, practically, his tireless teasing having egged you on far more than you were brave to admit. You felt Hyunjin kiss against your clit, lick it right after only to elicit a moan from you – it was embarrassing, how fast you were reacting to him and his body, how very little your composure held; but then again, you were hypersensitive. Had been, ever since he’d opened that first button, ever since a first kiss had fluttered over your body in a manner so loving it pulled at your heart.

Hyunjin’s hands were wrapped around you again, your own – book long forgotten and discarded somewhere next to you – tangled tightly in his hair. With every pull he moaned, groaned deeply into your pussy, and with every of his sound your body jolted, and vibrations set off in the entirety of your body. And he noticed, too, for he never made attempts to quiet down.

The sounds of your pleasure echoed through the room in harmony. The melodies of your names created a symphony, topped off with the lewd noise of his lips against your sex. He was making out with it, was sucking on your clit, kissing it, licking it, sucking it again. He was breathing you in, he was inhaling you entirely; as though wanting to make you his, wanting to annihilate your body with his own, to make one out of two, to melt together for eternity, as though a candle standing too close to the other. And you lost yourself at his passion. You were squirming, screaming, almost, his name, pleads, his name again. You weren’t sure you knew any other words that moment, your own name, even; he was everything you thought of, his tongue now lying flat against your slit and licking in thick stripes the only thing your mind was occupied with. All attempts of keeping your composure were long forgotten; you couldn’t possibly if he made you feel this way, when shocks of fire and electricity shot through your body with every squeeze his hands granted your thighs, and you didn’t want to, in the first place. You didn’t want to keep your composure. You didn’t want to try and not lose yourself in him; because you knew him enough to know he wanted you entirely, in honesty. And you knew him enough to know he lost himself within you all the same.

It wasn’t until two of his fingers teased your entrance, while his tongue flicked across your clit that your body started trembling. As though it was lain in ice suddenly, shaking against your lover who wasn’t giving you a chance to catch your breath. He inserted two digits into your warmth, smiled against your clit at the way you clenched around him momentarily. A soul-ripping whine left your throat then, and your fingers dug into the man’s scalp – it was bound to hurt, though he liked it. He would never not.

And Hyunjin yet moved slow. He didn’t move his fingers, even, for several moments after filling you with them; he kept them still, felt you wiggling around in search of friction. Only after you cried out his name, in obvious frustration, which, anew, made him smile against your sex, his hand started moving. Sensually, patiently, pumping in, then out, then in, then out again – before he curled his long, cold fingers up, and caressed that gooey spot within you. It was too easy, too thoughtless for him. A second nature, almost, the way he knew your body. Almost better than his own.

And you cried out again. You felt Hyunjin pump against your spot, over and over and over until your body felt in flames entirely, until you ignited him with them, until his own desire took over his body, made him feral. He fastened his pace now, sucked a little harsher, cursed a little louder, kissed a little harder. Against your clit, against your heat, against your very vulnerability, the one only he had access to. The one you only ever gifted him – and then you came, when his free hand pulled you closer to his body, tightly around your thigh and groping at your flesh, when the sensitivity tip-toed on the verge of being too much. You came in waves, stormy and urgent, entirely overwhelming. Your body shook, your voice was loud, your eyes were shut so close you saw stars against the darkness; and Hyunjin held you through it. Held you close, held you near to him, as though you’d disappear if he didn’t. As though he almost succeeded in merging your body with his own, in connecting your very souls to one.

And maybe he did. Maybe your body was his own, and maybe his was yours. And maybe your souls had been one and the same the very moment he had first longed for you, had first loved you; had first let his lips dance upon your skin, had first kissed you.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

#hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios

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rroseselavyyy · 5 months ago

Text

special needs - jjk

pairing: jungkook x female reader

warnings: smut

Jungkook threw his black t-shirt onto his bed before throwing his tired body down next to it with a deep sigh. He stared sleepily at the ceiling as his alcohol-filled system took over his mind.

However, there was one thing that kept him from sleeping peacefully and that was that he could feel his cock still aching for release ever since he finally had the chance to get this close to you after you started dating his best friend.

He could still feel your petal lips pressed to his cheek in genuine affection before telling him to drive safely on his way home, his fingertips tracing a path up his cheek at the memory without realizing it.

In a way like the cold breeze through the open window of his bedroom brought the faint scent of cherry blossoms from your perfume into his nostrils and made his head spin with the alcohol rushing through his veins, he closed his eyes and let the satin sheets bring him a sense of comfort as the cold sensation of them soothed his nerves.

It wouldn't hurt to have his hyung's girlfriend just for one night, would it?

He was far too drunk to notice that his hands had found their way to his belt, his intoxicated brain filled with mental images of you smiling from ear to ear as he told you a ridiculous joke on the dance floor, the very feeling of the blush creeping up his neck from your arms wrapped loosely around it still alive.

He shuddered as the cold of his hand met with the base of his cock, spreading the precum along his shaft. He was oblivious to the world around him when your trademark giggle echoed like a soft melody in his ears.

Now all he could feel was your hips riding him in slow circular motions. He lifted his hips with every ounce of strength he had, desperate to match your pace as if he could never get enough of you.

His soft moans turned to desperate whimpers, the faint moonlight from the window accentuating his sweaty torso like a roman statue, his chest constantly puffing with his uneven breathing.

As if the universe was making fun of him, everything turned into a cheap-ass teen movie and all the memories he shared with you played in his head behind the melody of the metal songs he listened when he was a teenager. You were everywhere as he tugged at his cock like he wanted to get you out of his skin, but you had been carved into his mind for all these years.

He felt like a teenager again who couldn't stop jerking off at the thought of you, but this time he felt no shame, on the contrary, he felt entitled to have you under him.

You were his dream even when Seokjin was not in the picture. Jungkook wasn't meant to be the villain of your princess fairytale.

He sank his teeth into his bottom lip so hard he could taste the blood on his tongue as the thin line between reality and fantasy faded away and all he could think about was nibbling at your nipples.

He thrust his hips up into you as he felt himself reaching his orgasm, kisses he wanted to ink on his skin like a tattoo on his throat felt heavenly as your delicate fingers wrapped around his neck like a collar.

If it meant he could be yours, he was willing to give himself to you in every possible way. He would let you put a collar around his neck, chain him to your bed, tie his eyes with your scarf, after all, you already had him under your spell.

Even in the dark of his bedroom, he could still remember the bitter taste of coffee on his tongue when he kissed you, just like the bitter taste on his tongue when he congratulated you on your relationship with Seokjin.

Before he kissed you for the first time, he could never have known that something so bitter could be sweeter than anything he had ever tasted, making him crave it with every fibre of his being.

He came with a deep growl, his defined stomach glistening with enough cum to impregnate you if you were the one fucking him and not his fist. He wanted to hold you in his arms as the intimacy felt unbelievably real, but he knew he could wake up from his dream at any moment if he tried.

He smiled to himself as he lay on his bed, completely spent and finally ready to sleep.

Maybe one day he would be the one to take you home. Maybe one day you would understand that he was the one for you.

He could wait for you to come back to him, and maybe this time he could prove that you mean the world to him.

#bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader

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lupinmoonlight · 9 months ago

Note

Hi! Could you write an alpha prof!remus x omega reader in heat. He gets her to his office after lessons to offer help and she agrees to spend the night( breeding kink)

Masterlist AO3

Alpha, please.

Summary - You are an omega about to experience her first heat. Professor Lupin offers to help and you end up getting railed in the Shrieking Shack (3,416 words).

Warnings - teacher/student relationship, omega verse, alpha!remus, omega!reader, breeding kink, unprotected sex, dubious consent because reader not very in control, age gap, my grammar (english is not my first language), not proof read.

Notes - Throwing this here and RUNNING AWAY. I am SO sorry for the delay, I was hit by a bus (jk lol i'm just burnt out). On a serious note, this was my first time ever writing something in the Omegaverse. Sorry if it sucks :( Thank you to everyone for your patience. I will eventually get to your request!

He noticed your scent before noticing you- a wave of pure, unadulterated omega scent that struck him like a physical blow, a visceral assault on his senses. The classroom, usually a blend of various scents, was now entirely dominated by this scent. Your scent, one of an omega on the cusp of her first heat yet blissfully unaware of it but one that Remus, an alpha, sensed with every fibre of his being. It was rich, sweet, intoxicating, awakening a primal need he had learned to control years ago. An almost uncontrollable need to own, to mark, to protect, to make his.

As an alpha, the presence of an unclaimed omega, especially one as evidently oblivious to their own nature as you, was concerning. Why were you there without suppressants? How could you not know what was about to happen to you? It was dangerous. Both for you and for any other alpha around, yet there you were, looking as calm and serene as if it were just another day.

You took a seat at the front of the class, your eyes glued to him. He was tall, commanding, exuding the authority and confidence of an alpha and you hated to admit how much it drew you in. Deep down, you were not interested in following the traditional roles of your status. You didn't want to submit to anyone. The thought alone filled you with dread...except right now.

The class began and Remus found himself incapable of focusing on his carefully prepared lecture, distracted by the powerful need for something he didn't even allow himself to entertain. It was like all his senses were heightened. He could hear everything, feel everything. Too much.

The lecture drew to a close, and you began to slowly pack up your belongings, your mind unconsciously reluctant to part from your professor. He made you feel so-

"Y/N, may I have a word with you before you leave?" Remus asked. His voice was calm but it held an underlying urgency that he hoped you wouldn't notice.

You looked up to him, your eyes wide and innocent, and in that moment, it felt like you would've done anything this man asked you. What was wrong with you?

"Yes, Professor Lupin?"

He cleared his throat, attempting to appear casual.

"Y/N, I... uh, I need to discuss something somewhat personal with you, and I apologize for the discomfort," he began.

Your brows knitted in confusion, your posture tense. "Something personal, Professor?"

He paused, gathering his thoughts, carefully selecting his next words. "I've noticed...that is, I've sensed...that you might be approaching a significant time that's inherent to your nature as an omega."

Your expression shifted from confusion to embarrassment, unsure where he was going with this. "I- I'm not sure to understand, Professor... what do you mean?"

Remus hesitated, his instincts as an alpha to protect and take charge clashing with his respect for you and your autonomy. "It seems that uh... you're about to experience your first heat, Y/N. It's a critical time for an omega, and it can be very dangerous if you're not prepared or aware."

Your eyes widened, your embarrassment escalating into fear. "My first heat? But... I- I didn't know... I thought I had more time before... before that happened," you admitted shyly.

Remus nodded, trying to appear comforting despite the turmoil raging within him. "It's unpredictable at times, especially the first one," he assured you. "It's imperative that you have a safe place and proper care during this period, especially considering that... well I assume, considering you haven't been on any suppressants."

You looked away, uncomfortable. "No... no I haven't."

"That's okay. That's why I'm offering to help. I can provide a safe place for you, ensure that you have what you need to get through this safely. It's not ideal... but I cannot, in good conscience, let you face this alone."

You suddenly wanted this very much, despite your habit of fighting your inner nature at every turn- no. You were not going to be a weak, vulnerable omega who needed an alpha to protect her. You could manage. You would manage. This was no big deal.

"I can handle it myself, Professor," you said, trying to sound confident but failing pretty miserably.

"I understand, but I assure you, my intentions are solely to offer protection and support. I wouldn't suggest this if there weren't a genuine need."

At that moment, you weren't sure if he was just very good at being persuasive, or if your pathetic omega nature begged you to bend to his "protection".

"Are you sure?" the question coming out more as a challenge.

"Yes, I am. It's my responsibility as your professor and as an alpha to ensure you're safe," he affirmed.

"O-okay, fine."

"Just come to my quarters at the end of the day. I'll have everything prepared for you. We'll make sure you're as comfortable and safe as possible," he instructed and this time, his tone was firm, leaving no room for you to argue back.

You simply nodded and made your way out of the classroom. The conversation had left you disoriented. Your lifelong determination to maintain independence and resist alpha authority was now clashing with an inexplicable trust in your professor.

You had never expected your first heat to come so suddenly. You thought there would be signs to prepare you, like most other omegas. But no. It was just there. And what was more embarrassing was that it wasn't you who found out first. It was an alpha. And your professor, at that.

You seriously considered not going to his quarters that night. Not because you were scared or didn't trust him, but just for the shame you felt. That shame, however, was quickly overshadowed by fear. You knew what could happen to unclaimed omegas who were in heat and who didn't take suppressants. Not all alphas were as kind as Remus. Some of them were vile predators ready to pounce on the first vulnerable omega they smelled. Somehow, you knew- rather inherently felt, that Remus wasn't like that.

Swallowing your pride, you made your way to Professor Lupin's quarters, your stomach an absolute mess from the strange blend of anxiety and odd sense of security.

Remus was already out by the door, a small bag in hand, a gentle smile, albeit somewhat anxious, expression gracing his face.

"Thank you for coming, Y/N. I know this must be overwhelming," he said, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring.

You nodded, not sure you could trust your voice in that moment.

He offered a small smile, then gestured for you to follow. "We're not staying here. I have a safer place in mind."

You obeyed silently, following him through the corridors and then outside, the only sound being the small vials of potion clinking in the bag and the soft thumping of your feet on the wet grass.

You had no idea where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. In that moment, you were quite literally trusting him with your life, and you hated that.

Stopping before the Whomping Willow, Remus motioned for you to wait at a safe distance, and you watched in awe as he expertly pacified the violent tree, revealing a hidden entrance to an underground passage.

Without questioning him, you proceeded in silence, making your way through some damp, sketchy tunnels. This was definitely not how you had expected to have your first heat and your need to be with him was growing stronger and stronger. In normal circumstances, you should have been scared, terrified even, following a grown alpha to Merlin-knows-where, but you actually were starting to feel desperate, aching for something you couldn't explain.

You finally emerged into an old, creaking building, full of dust and looking like it was about to fall apart. Despite this, fresh blankets were laid out on the bed, candles provided a soft light, making it look somewhat comfortable.

Remus carefully set down the bag of potions and turned to you, looking a bit sheepish.

"It's not much, I know. But this place has been a refuge of sorts during my time here as a student... it's secluded, away from prying eyes and other... influences," he explained, deliberately vague about the deeper reasons.

You looked around, taking in your surroundings. He was right, this wasn't much, but it was safe. "Thank you, Professor Lupin."

"Please, call me Remus here," he insisted gently. "I'll let you settle down. I'll be just next door. If you need anything, just call for me."

"Thank you, Remus."

In the adjacent room. Remus sat rigidly, every muscle tensed, focusing on every breath, attempting to anchor himself to his resolve. He was battling his own nature, his instincts, usually so well-contained, were now threatening to overwhelm him, fuelled by your potent scent. It had been years since he'd felt such a primal pull, and he had never acted on it. So he sat, focusing on deep, steadying breaths. it was all he could do to maintain control.

Meanwhile, you were beginning to experience the torturing onset of your heat. It was a violent assault of unfamiliar sensations, confusing, intense, leaving you feeling profoundly alone yet achingly in need of something- something, specifically Remus. The room felt too large, too empty, yet suffocating.

Unable to bear the isolation and the escalating ache, you called out, your voice echoing a desperation you barely understood. "R-Remus... Remus, please... I don't know what's happening to me."

Remus hesitated at the door, his hand clenched around the frame. "Y/N, I'm here. Tell me what you need," he encouraged.

"I need... I need... I feel like i'm losing my mind. I need... I don't know," you stammered, your confusion and need radiating from you in a way that tugged relentlessly at Remus' instincts.

He stepped just inside the room, his expression a mix of concern and fear- for you, for himself, for the line he was terrified of crossing. "I know, I know. I understand. It's your heat... and it's strong. But I brought something that might help," he said, retrieving a vial from the small bag he had brought. "Drink this; it should ease the symptoms."

You took the vial with trembling hands and drank the potion, your eyes never leaving his as he sat cautiously at the edge of the bed.

"Why is this happening to me like this? Shouldn't the potion work immediately?" you asked, panic evident in your tone.

"It should, but... your heat seems to be very strong. Let's just wait for a moment. I'm here."

"Remus... it's not working. Please, I need..."

"I know what you need, Y/N. But I can't give it to you. We have to wait it out. It's going to be alright."

This wasn't going to do. Being far from him was painful. Being close to him without getting what you needed what torture. You needed him in a way you had never needed anything else before. You needed him to consume you, to take you, to mark you, to breed you.

"Alpha, please," you whispered without even meaning to. The moment the words left your lips, Remus froze, his heart racing as every fibre of his being, of his soul, responded to that word. It was spoken with such raw need that it resonated with the very essence of his being. His resolve shattered, not out of defeat, but out of an overwhelming need to fulfill his role as an alpha.

Before you could react, you were flipped onto your stomach, the sound of a low growl reaching your ears. You were not even in control of your body anymore. Your instincts were controlling you, and you desperately raised your hips, presenting yourself to him in the most intimate way.

The sight made Remus' blood travel south immediately. Already hard, he yanked down your trousers before unbuckling his own. You raised your hips higher, whining pathetically, desperate for him to take you. As he looked down at you, his cock throbbed with need and he knew then, there was no going back.

"Please, alpha," you begged again, your voice trembling. "I need... I need you."

"Fuck..." he growled, reaching down to position himself at your slick entrance. "I'm sorry," he started, his voice trembling, "this is the only way I know to help you."

You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain and pleasure that would soon consume you. "Please," you whimpered, "I need this."

With a grunt, Remus pushed himself into you, your bodies connecting in a way that was both deeply intimate and primal. You gasped at the intrusion, your body trembling as you felt him filling you.

He felt you tighten and tense as you tried to accommodate his size, your body reacting instinctively. "Relax," he instructed, his voice a low rumble. "You need to relax. Let me take care of you."

His words, the authority in his tone, something deep within you responded. You forced yourself to relax, even as you felt his girth stretch you. He hissed in pleasure as he felt you accommodate him, your tightness almost too much.

"That's it, good girl," he rasped out, one hand coming to rest on your lower back to steady you. His hips snapped forward, burying himself fully within you.

You moaned, your entire being blissfully consumed by the feeling of fullness.

"Are you alright?" he asked, staying very still within you.

You could only nod before another desperate plea escaped you. "Yes, alpha... please, more."

At that, he allowed his instincts to fully take over. His hands gripped your hips painfully, and he began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful. A part of him was urging him to be gentle, but the other part, the alpha, was screaming at him to take what was his, to claim, to mate, and it was too strong to resist. He needed to feel you beneath him, to lose himself in the pleasure of your connection.

You clung to the sheets, your nails digging into the fabric as Remus continued to rut into you. Your body rocked with every thrust, and soon enough, the pain began to fade, replaced by a blissful warmth that spread through your body. He knew he was taking a risk. A huge risk. But he couldn't help himself. He needed you, and you needed him.

"Fuck, Y/N," he grunted as he continued his relentless pace. He leaned over you, his chest against your back, your bodies moulding together as though they were made for each other. "You feel so good," he growled low in your ear, his voice deep, rasping, reflecting his unending hunger.

Each of his movement was sharp, controlled yet desperate, a constant rhythm of push and pull and he delved deeper into you, the pulsing throb of him only heightening your pleasure.

"Alpha... alpha, please... I- I'm going to-" you tried to say but your orgasm tore through you with such force that you lost your voice. Remus didn't slow down. If anything, feeling you clench around him only fuelled his punishing pace.

"I'm going to knot you," he announced. "I'm going to fill you up. Mark you as mine," he continued breathlessly. "I want everyone to know you're mine, to see you swollen with my seed, to see you bear my mark."

You whined, barely able to hold yourself up from under his weight, but you managed to keep your hips elevated, desperate to be filled, to be marked, to be owned.

His movements became jerky, sporadic as the wave of his release began to crest, each thrust of his hips pushing you further down into the mattress. "Take it," he rasped, "take my knot," his voice a harsh whisper against the shell of your ear before his teeth latched onto the soft skin of your neck, imprinting his mark on you.

You moaned at the mix of pain and pleasure as his hand traveled down your arm, tangling your fingers together and with a final, deep thrust, he surrendered to the pleasure, his body shuddering as he came inside you. His hips flush against yours, his body draped protectively over yours as he poured himself into you with abandon. Finally he stilled, grunting as he felt the knot at the base of his cock start to swell.

The sensation was foreign, somewhat painful, and you tensed, almost instinctively trying to move away.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay," he tried to soothe, still panting from his intense climax. "Stay still for me. It'll subside soon, I promise."

He remained on top of you for a while, the knot locking you together, securing a powerful and intimate bond between you. His fingers stroked your skin gently, before he carefully maneuvered you to your side, spooning you protectively as his knot was still deeply lodged within you.

"I know, it's okay. I'm just making you more comfortable. I've got you," he soothed as you whimpered from the movements.

You stayed like that, your bodies intimately connected, until the knot subsided enough for Remus to pull out. You whined at the sudden loss and the wet warmth spreading between your thigh.

As he felt you relax into him, Remus gently kissed your temple before carefully disentangling himself from you. With a flick of his wand, the wet feeling between your legs disappeared and a blanket was draped over you.

Turning to the potions bag, Remus retrieved a vial, his hands slightly trembling as he grasped the small bottle.

"Y/N, can you sit up for me?" he asked gently, offering his hand to support you.

With his help, you managed to move into a sitting position, your movements languid, utterly exhausted from what had just transpired. Remus handed you the potion, noticing your confused expression.

"This is uh... it's just a precaution... to prevent any unwanted consequences," he explained, uncomfortable from the intimate implications of his words.

Your cheeks flushed with a hint of color as you took the vial, your fingers brushing against his in the exchange.

"Oh, I... thank you."

"I know this looks like... perhaps I had planned for this to happen. But I promise, it is not the case. I simply keep this sort of supply for any students who may be in need."

"I trust you, Remus. And this was bound to happen, one way or another... and I'm glad it was with you."

"Well, I... erm. It's important to stay hydrated, especially after this. Here," he said, trying to change the subject.

You laughed softly, accepting the water from him. He had this way of knowing exactly what you needed before you even knew yourself. You were actually thirsty, and the cool liquid helped soothe your parched throat.

As you sipped your water, a sudden sharp pain caused you to reach for your neck, your fingers brushing against a fresh, deep red mark. You looked at Remus with questioning eyes, seeking an explanation.

Remus, visibly uncomfortable and with a hint of regret in his eyes, cleared his throat before speaking. "That's... that's a mark. My mark," he began, struggling to maintain eye contact.

"In the heat of the moment, it's something an alpha can leave on an omega. It's a claim, a deep, instinctual reaction that seals a powerful bond. I didn't mean to- I should have controlled myself better."

Your fingers lingered on the mark, your initial shock giving way to a different emotion, one of a surprising acceptance and even a hint of joy. "Does this mean... are we mates now?"

Remus nodded. "Yes, it does. And I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't intend for this to happen this way. You're a student. I should have been more careful, more in control. But please know, I will take responsibility. I will take care of you, support you, and I promise, I won't be overbearing. I'll-"

"Remus, stop," you interjected, amused by his words tumbling our in a flustered rush. A smile crept onto your lips, a sense of deep contentment washing over you.

"I'm not upset. In fact, I'm...happy," you confessed.

Remus looked up, surprised. "You are?"

"Yes, I am. To be marked by you, to be your mate... it feels right, despite everything. I don't see myself with any of those young inexperienced alphas..."

"Young inexperienced alphas," he echoed. "Are you calling me old, miss?"

"Yes, maybe I am..."

#remus lupin #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x reader #professor lupin #professor lupin x reader #alpha remus lupin #omega reader #smut

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valyrfia · 2 months ago

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https://x.com/zilischive/status/1833656932491542937?s=46 i dont get the recent influx of lestappen hate recently its really frustrating trying to have fun and getting mocked for it

I agree with you anon it is frustrating because people are fundamentally misunderstanding WHY we like Max and Charles and their dynamic. I don't think they're best friends–and I don't WANT them to be. There's something so compelling about someone you've known since you were five, spent your teenage years hating with every fibre of your being, only for the two of you to end up in the same place (because typical, you know it was impossible for only one of you to have made it) and find out that hang on, you actually get along quite well. Max and Charles make great racing and great rivals because they already know each other–they know exactly what the other is capable of at their worst. There's a lot of jokes about how Max will be an absolute terrorist to everyone else but races Charles politely, and it's because he learnt at a very formative age how Charles holds a grudge and how he is never afraid to enact it on track. Likewise, Charles is often considered one of the only ones able to truly race wheel to wheel with Max, because he has years of experience of knowing exactly when Max is going to back out of a corner. Max and Charles aren't best friends and I really wish people wouldn't be so dense and reductionist and understand that we don't want them to be.

#lestappen #asks #anon

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thestonestudiosculpture · 1 year ago

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The material used in it is Fibre. Our best artisans wonderfully craft this sculpture.

To know more about the product: https://www.thestonestudio.in/product/girl-boy-garden-statue/ To check our website: www.thestonestudio.in Phone No: +91-7008222943 Email Id: [email protected]

#bird bath #garden bird bath #statue #exterior #home decor #garden decor #landscapedesign #fibre statue #art #garden decor statue #garden design #garden ornaments

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shilohta · 8 months ago

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You can get yourself any textile, bring any craft from the dead if you like, any fiber arts etc from any time period brand new and bespoke for you. What are you choosing and why?

Oohohoho, I'm commissioning a pair of sprang leggings.

Stretchy, warm, flashy colours and patterns!

I heard about sprang in the first couple of weeks of my fibre arts course and never found an excuse to explore it more. Obviously I'm free to do research and play around myself, but it's the sort of obscure niche fibre art that's hard to find good information. Carol James has been researching it since the 90s and I'm hunting for some of her books. (The picture above is from the advertising for an online zoom talk by Carol James)

I love the geometric patterns. The method of making sprang is fascinating. (What do you MEAN it's like weaving with only warp threads? Creating mirror-image twists that meet in the middle, and if the middle seam gives out goodbye to all your work?! And what I've read about creating patterns, especially where the two halves are different like the striped legs and patterns above, it hurts my brain. Indistinguishable from witchcraft)

I'm very aware that there's a vast multitude of cool and/ or lost fibre arts that I could have chosen, but I don't need obscenely fancy status marker fashions (thinking of goldwork embroidery) and I don't want to claim something from a culture that I have no connection to (Pacific barkcloth... I just want to know how it feels). And sprang has been in the back of my mind for so long, waiting to spring out.

Bonus if I get sprang leggings made with medieval wool that isn't itchy!

#thank u for coming to my ted talk on sprang #I don't know much about it myself but I can point the way to better resources #sprang #fibre arts

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babybatss-blog · 3 months ago

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BETTER THAN THIS

Link(totk) x reader, 1900 words

summary: you are Zelda’s personal assistant. Link is Zelda’s bodyguard. You’ve always hated each other, but what if that isn’t the complete truth?

cw: lots suggestive content, enemies to lovers fic with a wild amount of horniness and angst. Intoxication and random person is overly touchy with reader.

Who would’ve thought that you and the hero Link would be together tonight, in a passionate embrace underneath the Zora Kingdom party, your breath intertwined and lips colliding frantically? Certainly not you, who hated Link with every fibre of your being due to his uptight personality and constantly anxious demeanour.

You’re Princess Zelda’s personal assistant, organising her events and facilitating the revival of the castle after Calamity Ganon’s attack. Honestly, Link got on your nerves. He never left you and Zelda alone, was always worried about safety issues and didn’t answer your questions, as if he’s some sort of better person than you. And it was no secret that he didn’t like you too, divulging to Zelda that you’re taking the modernization of the castle too far or that your schedule is too much for her. Therefore, Zelda became your strange little message carrier, conveying messages between the two of you and trying to keep the peace. Sometimes she would try and complement him to you, saying statements such as “he was so kind the other day” or “He definitely worried about you when you left last night.”

She tries desperately to repair this illogical feud between you, but to no avail. That is until today, when the three of you are sitting in a wagon together on the way to the Zora domain. Sidon’s inauguration is tonight, and the princess is expected to attend for her blessing. This involves a party, grand feast and hours of boring speeches, but it’s for the best to have a prospering society in Hyrule.

“I’ve always loved this area so much. Don’t you?” Zelda asks, bewilderment in her eyes as she looks around the area. It is beautiful here, and Link seems to agree due to the twinkling look in his eyes. “Definitely. We’re planned to stay here for three days, but I may elongate the stay so we can do some sightseeing. I hear that they have built a Mipha memorial nearby.” Link stiffens at your words, having some sort of impact on him that you don’t quite understand. “I’m not looking at a statue of my dead friend.” He mutters, loud enough for you to hear but not Zelda, who is sitting opposite the two of you. You wonder whether you should speak up, telling him that Sidon put hard work into it but ultimately don’t stir the pot. Afterall, you don’t want to ruin the ride with your bickering once more.

The wagon enters the gates of Zora’s Domain, illustrating a wide runway with blues and aquas, like an underwater sanctuary out of a fairytale. Zora children and adults crowd the sides, waving enthusiastically at you as they cheer. Zelda smile’s back at them in that same way she looked at the views from earlier: grateful and ecstatic.

When a child runs over to the wagon and follows it through tripping steps and teary eyes, she holds up a ragged teddy bear to Link. “Link! Link! I love you!” He timidly takes it, an embarrassed blush quickly turning his face into a resemblance of a tomato. You laugh, finding his nerves shocking as he is the hero of Hyrule after all. “He said thank you!” You call out to the child as she stops following the wagon, noticing the despondent look on her face that he never responded. “Thanks…” He grumbles, avoiding your eye contact as he places the bear in his bag. “No problem. But maybe we need to get you into some of Zelda’s etiquette classes if you’re going to act like that every time a fan interacts with you.” Link just merely rolls his eyes.

You arrive, and as Zelda and Link already reunite with their old friends you set off to work. Those two may be able to have fun, but you don’t, rushing around to ensure everything is perfect for the princess. She certainly isn’t posh or judgmental, but Zelda does have certain things that she likes to have in her living situations. It is your responsibility to ensure that her journal is in her room, bags are unpacked and clothes are prepped for the next day, as well as checking that all the appropriate safety precautions are made.

After a while you collapse on a chair, watching Sidon’s attendees scatter around to prepare for the crowning. It’s tough work, and even tougher when you watch Link joke around with Sidon instead of helping. Isn’t he supposed to be Zelda’s bodyguard? So why is it your responsibility to update the guards on your arrival and suspected leave date and not his? Lost in your frustration about this and the other many things he does (like why is his hair always so silky??) you suddenly have someone sit down next to you, their toned bicep leaning on the back of the chair and an exhausted huff leaving their mouth.

“Zelda told me to take a rest while she goes for a walk with Yona. Mind if I join you?” Asks Link, his eyebrows furrowed as if he just did something preposterous. You turn to him bluntly, eyes scanning his body. Who does he think he is, just suddenly acting like he’s your friend? But you don’t want him to get any satisfaction out of your shock, so you merely reply “Yeah that’s alright” before turning back away from him.

As much as you would love to uphold a confident, unbothered quality in this moment, the air is soon filled with and uneasy silence you yearn to break. But why? You never want to speak to Link, and certainly not with trivial small talk.

“This looks nice. The coronation is going to be beautiful.” He states. “Yeah, definitely. But they’re also so… long.” He laughs at your annoyance; in a beautiful rumble you don’t think you’ve ever heard before. You continue to talk, trying to conceal that pit in your stomach. “But Zelda loves them, and I know Dorephan is thrilled to pass on the throne to his son.” Link nods thoughtfully, pondering your words. “That’s true. I know this was a big day for Zelda, regardless of if she ever actually had a coronation or wanted one. It’s a nerve-wracking yet important step for any royalty, and culturally unique in every way.” Once he finishes your mind is fried, having never heard him speak remotely more than a sentence in the past. But he knows much more than you do, and his insight is intriguing to say the least.

The conversation is left there, after a cook runs up to you asking about the princesses’ dietary requirements. Before you know it, it’s well into the night and you feel like you haven’t breathed once. During the speeches you were ensuring Zelda was prepared for hers, during the crowning you were helping the chefs prepare the food and during the idle chatter you were having meetings with members of the community to see what the royal family could do to help them.

You find Zelda on the middle of the dance floor with the new king of the Zora, doing some sort of traditional jig and giggling like a schoolgirl. You told her not to have any wine tonight, but it seems she didn’t listen. “My dear, will you not dance with us?” asks an intoxicated and overtly touchy older Rito man. “Oh, thank you but I don’t know the dance.” “Well that’s fine, I don’t know it either! You just copy the person next to you! Here, follow me!” Without further warning he grabs your arm and pulls you onto the floor, twirling you despite how you almost fall over. The dance is complicated and fast, but with this random man’s lead you manage just fine. That is until it’s time to switch partners, and your viciously thrown into Links arms.

“Link?!” The two of you look at each other with the shock of seeing someone come back from the dead, even though you knew you were both at the party. “You didn’t strike me as a dancer” He says, and you scoff. “Neither did you. What are you doing?” “I don’t know, guess the wine got to me.” He answers honestly. Your hands intertwine and you clumsily follow the movements, as he does the same in a somehow even worse way. He twirls you, and you swear you see his eyes drift down to your ass, but they jump back up to your eyes with an intense glare. Just to spite him, you pull him in close, seeing his confident stare falter. “Having a nice night?” You smirk, hand clasping his shoulder. He’s warm but muscled. It feels good on your dainty hand. “Could be better. Want to get out of here?”

Did he just, say what you think he did? You stop dancing, despite being jostled by the people next to you. Wordlessly you nod, unable to get the words out as you fear that perhaps you’re dreaming this. But why would you? You don’t care what he thinks, or about spending time with him. Still holding your hand, he leads you down the stairs to the pools, leaning on the railing which overlooks the water and you join him, reluctantly dropping his hand.

“So, what’s your deal?” He asks, not even bothering to turn and look at you. “What do you mean?” “I mean why are you here? Being a personal assistant, following Zelda and I around. You seem… Better equipped for something more fulfilling.” You blush, surprised at his complement. “I don’t know. I guess it was just what was expected for me. Apparently my ancestors worked at the castle, and so when Zelda was hiring my parents were thrilled. They thought I was perfect for it, as it’s in my blood and all. But I… Wanted to adventure. Go to the wildest plains of Hyrule, climb the tallest mountains and meet the furthest civilisations. But I can still do that with you two!” A silence lingers between the two of you, an uncomfortable one that makes the hair on your neck stand up. Finally, he turns to you and straightens up. The creases on his forehead display true concern, one you haven’t had directed towards you since you were a kid scraping your knee after a tumble.

“No. You go and do that, Zelda and I don’t need you. This is your life, not your parents, not anybody else’s. Yours.” He seems truly angry when his says this, and it makes your heart flutter. When he says his next words he closes the gap between you, lips almost touching yours but showing the tiniest restraint to not. “You’re better than just some personal assistant. Trust me, I know it.”

That’s when you can’t take anymore, and you kiss him. If you were in any sort of right mind, you’d think you were insane for doing this, your fervour causing him to stumble back and grab your waist for support. But he kisses you back, tongue sliding hungrily into your mouth and grazing your white teeth. You moan, and he digs his nails into your ass.

You needed this, and so did he. Whether you knew it or not.

#botw link x reader #totk x reader #totk link #loz totk #totk #link fanfic #link loz #link x reader #botw link #ao3 link #tears of the kingdom #loz #loz botw #loz link #zora #babybatss blog

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bitterbutblue · 1 month ago

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in the morning, you would be gone ☆ tingyun x reader

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

~ announcement of tingyun 5 star form had me so excited seriously i was liek squealing giggling kicking my feet EVERYTHING ohmy god its so insane im goingso insane rn

song: lovesick - laufey ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

"Hey, it's Tingyun! If you're listening to this, I'm probably busy right now. Please leave me a voice message, I'll get back to it as soon as I can, promise! See you later!"

Exhaling shakily, you press the replay button and listen to the voice message again.

"Hey, it's Tingyun! If you're listening to this, I'm probably busy right now. Please leave me a voice message, I'll get back to it as soon as I can, promise! See you later!"

Your worst fear was forgetting what she sounds like. The voice that promised you a life forever together on the altar may be a voice you'll never hear again. The voice that soothed you on nights you needed her most is now just a recording on a phone, playing back the same repeated message. But it is still her voice, it's still her.

You couldn't bear to watch the day they performed the foxian funeral rituals, the idea of losing her to the vast space ahead of you was too much for you to even comprehend. How does one cope with loss? How does one move on from loving someone to the point where you don't even know where you start and where she ends? You can only sit in the corner of your bedroom, taking in pieces of her life and knowing she would never step foot in the room again. Head in your hands, gaping hole in what used to be your chest, and tears that leave a path down your cheek. It was like a statue frozen in time, the state of barely being able to function without every fibre in your being screaming in agony, begging for it to stop. You never realised how the human body was capable of making emotional pain so physical until the moment you found yourself on the ground, Yukong banging on the doors and begging you to let her in.

You spend hours curled on the floor because you can't get in the bed without smelling the scent of her shampoo lingering in the bedsheets. You can't even bring yourself to eat in the kitchen without remembering how she should be standing there with you, arms around your waist and chest pressed against your back. Chin resting on your shoulders as she mumbles sleepily, asking for you to make her favourite for breakfast.

The cards that they dealt you were unfair, there was not much you could truly do about it though. You can really only just nod along, aimlessly going on with your day and learning to live by yourself again after almost 100 years with the same person. 100 years with the same person, and now you have to relearn what it means to be yourself. Each time you hear a small sound inside your house you can't help but momentarily think that she's home, that that was her waking up from her nap or her coming home from work- only for it to be a sound from the neighbours or the cars outside.

But the worst of it all was thinking about what she had to go through or what she may be going through. When Yukong told you there was no body actually found, a part of you was hopeful- perhaps she was alive. Perhaps somewhere she was out there and you could find her again. Another part of you felt sick, because what if she was alive, but still being used? To think about what may have happened to her or what might be happening to her scares to you an extent you can't even comprehend yourself. At the end of each day, you can really only make the same prayer to Lan so that you can feel at peace about the whole situation.

If she's gone, please have her be resting in peace.

When the foxian stepped onto the Luofu, Yukong felt her heart come to a stop. Her face paled, whiter than a sheet of paper and she felt faint. The foxian looks around with a dazed look in her eyes, as if she's completely unfocused on her surroundings. When her eyes met Yukong's a brief flicker of consciousness, as if struggling to fight whatever wave had been drowning her, passes through her eyes until it is replaced by the same dazed look as before. She scans the crowd that only watches in horror as the girl who presumed missing then dead now walks towards Yukong. Dressed like a goddess, nine elegant tails flowing behind her as she mumbles in a dazed voice.

"Do I know you?"

Yukong breaks down in her room that evening.

She doesn't know how to tell you.

She didn't have to. The foxian found herself drawn to this house down the road, this door that she feels the urge to open. Instead, she stands outside, a hand placed on the wooden door, tracing each individual groove as if memorising a complex pattern. Something about this door has her frozen, only able to think about what lays behind the door. Without really thinking about her movements, the foxian knocks on the door, her heart racing for reasons she doesn't understand.

"Yukong, if you want to come in, just open the door. There's no need to-"

A hand flies to your mouth when you notice the green eyes, the brown hair, the sharp fox ears. You feel your vision grow blurry as your breathing grows shallow, stepping back and catching yourself by leaning against the wall. There stood in front of you was your wife who was presumed dead. There stood in front of you was a shadow of your wife because those eyes were so empty and hollow it scared you. You had never seen Tingyun with such soulless eyes. She always had a glint, some sort of flicker of mischief or humour. Now her eyes just stare into yours as if she has no actual consciousness, as if she's just going through the motions of the day again.

"Tingyun?"

It scares you, the way she stares. You want to walk up to her, you want to reach out and cup her cheek and ask her if she's okay and maybe share some of the pain that she's been holding in but you can't. You can only watch as she stays outside the house, not moving in. Her eyes dart around the interior of the house and you notice her nose crinkle slightly as her eyes land on a photo on the wall- a move she does when she's confused and you feel sick to your stomach.

"Baby?"

Your voice sounds too hoarse for your own liking as you step forward shakily. Her eyes slowly land back onto you, hollowly taking in your form and her nose crinkles again.

"Who are you?"

It's only three words. Three words really cannot have that big of an impact on someone, or so you think. Words drive so much of the pain that you can feel- 'I love you' and 'I'm sorry' are both such simple phrases that you hear time and time again but when spoken by a certain person at a certain time it can make you feel like warmth that's been spread inside out or it can make you feel colder than a harsh winter night.

Who are you?

It stings more than an open wound and at this point you would rather have preferred it if they had just found her body and confirmed her dead that evening because to see your lover back as nothing but a shell of herself is horrifying. To see your lover stand in front of you with her sense of self replaced with nothing but the ability to breath and speak breaks you from the inside out more than you would ever realise. She's alive, but she's nothing like who she once was. She's back, but at the same time she never truly would be.

"Why... Why did I come here?"

Her voice wavers slightly, and you take a smaller step closer to her. It's freezing outside, she's wearing nothing but a short dress and you want to pull her into the house so that maybe she can feel some of the warmth and remember at least a fraction of you. But you just stand where you were.

"Do you know me?"

It was a struggle to speak, with words clogging up in your throat and choking you from the inside. Your heart races, unable to stop yourself from trembling as you await her response. She looks at you with her eyebrows furrowed, her chest heaving slightly as if she's trying to calm herself down.

"No."

You release a shuddering breath, closing your eyes as the tears fall. You grip onto the door handle to steady yourself, because you are about to pass out any minute now.

"That's okay." You look back at her finally, after a long minute of silence. The look in her eyes has changed, a hint of sorrow hidden behind the mist of confusion and hazy memories.

"Why does it hurt?"

She sounds so confused, and you can hear the slight twinge of pain in her voice and it hurts you more than you could have ever imagined. Losing someone was hard enough, losing someone who was physically still here but would never fully be back was somehow worse.

"Why does it hurt to... see you upset?"

Your hand moves instinctively, moving to cup her cheek as a tear falls from her eyes, a tear that she hadn't even realised had fallen until she feels your thumb gently wipe it away. She leans into your touch, tilting her head slightly and your heart just crumbles into dust.

"Don't worry too much about it now, baby." You whisper softly, and she blinks. She just stares at you with this look of regret that she doesn't understand why she's feeling.

"I'm sorry."

She apologises for a reason she doesn't know yet, but she knows one thing. Seeing you cry hurt her for a reason she can't understand, and she doesn't want to see you upset either. Perhaps you are upset because of her, and perhaps she never should've come over. She just puts her hand over yours, and she can't understand why your touch feels so familiar when you are nothing but a blank face in her mind. You feel the world fading beneath your feet because you feel the cold metal against your skin, the cold metal band that still sits around her ring finger.

"You've done nothing wrong."

The silence that follows is haunting, watching as Tingyun slowly steps back.

"I'm sorry."

You can only watch as she steps back into the darkness, and you can't even call after her until she fades into the unknown behind you. You wonder if that's truly the last time you'll ever see her and a part of you hates the world for that. Your wife's last words were once 'I love you, I'll see you later', filled with love and care. Now they would be 'I'm sorry', filled with a sense of emptiness and regret, coming from someone who didn't even know your name.

The photo that hangs on the wall next to the door is her and you, hand in hand and both in white- the same metal band on her finger on yours.

Tingyun thinks of that photo every night now and she can't understand why it hurts so much.

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