#g: supernatural au

[kflixnet]

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texts w/ supernatural skz — part 2.

categories: gn!reader, crack, fluff, hurt/comfort, smau 　　 warnings: mentions of blood & mild injuries; swearing; baby used as a petname for some.

notes: chan & changbin are werewolves, minho & seungmin are witches, hyunjin is a vampire, han is a fairy, felix is an angel, and jeongin is a fox shifter // part 1

✧ CHAN, MINHO, & CHANGBIN !

✧ HYUNJIN & HAN !

✧ FELIX, SEUNGMIN, & I.N. !

^ . _ . ^ ?! a good chunk of people asked for a part two so i hope this does it justice

© taeiun 2023. all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim any of my writing as yours.

[iridescentxstars]

-> 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 .ೃ࿐ [ — bangchan ][part one]

➳ published: 23.06.24 ➳ credit: banner: @aaagustd || beta: @wooahaeproductions ➳ werewolf!au || bakery!au || enemies to lover!au || genre: smut || angst || supernatural || fluff || dark || rating: m ➳ pairing: alpha!bangchan x bakery!reader (fem) ➳ summary: a decision in chris' past leads him down a road that brings him to his mate and even though he says he doesn't want her - it seems destiny, and others, won't take no for an answer. ➳ word count: 28.5k (this part) || total: tbc ➳ warnings: mentions of cheating (on the reader by an ex), violence, toxic behaviour, manipulation, unprotected sex, light degradation/praise, accidental claiming, drunk sex (still able to consent and make decisions), no aftercare ➳ author's note: hello, it's me! it has been 4734873294 years since i started this fic and wow, i hope you love it! the mc is affectionately nicknamed 'sugar' and has minor descriptors just to help flesh her out a little more and she is implied to be curvy and soft (no eye colour, name, etc.). ➳ taglist: @byunparklimchoi @djeniryuu @sanjoongie @honey-andmilktea (please let me know if you want to be tagged in future works)

Life has always been about the choices you make, the ones you allow to change the trajectory of your future. Sometimes, these decisions are terrible and you learn lessons that you may never have had to otherwise but others can put you on the path of a future that turns your life upside down in all the best ways.

This wasn’t the thought you had when your sister called and asked if you wanted to join her in a new adventure. That adventure happened to be starting a small business, a bakery, in this cute little town on the coast. You didn’t know whether it was something you really wanted to do with your newly acquired business degree but how could you say no? How could you possibly say no to Spice when she pouted, holding her hands and pleading that without her darling little sister, she couldn’t possibly make this work?

Six years in university, the better half of your twenties, and you were packing up your small apartment to move out of the city to a new town. A new life. A fresh start. Considering that your loser boyfriend of several months had cheated on you and the exhaustion that ultimately came with being a university student had drained you significantly; this change in scenery could be something that is actually beneficial to you – especially since you were about to build the cutest little bakery with your sister.

‘Everything Nice.’

It took a lot of planning, hours, blood, sweat, and tears but after several months and many, many mental breakdowns, you and your sister were proud owners of a bustling little business that slowly grew to be something loved by the locals and tourists alike. It might not have been as flashy as the bakeries you would frequent near your university but it was everything that you both had dreamed about.

Apparently, it was also something the locals needed as well. You had plenty of regulars who would come as soon as you opened up their doors and others who always came in on their breaks for something to treat themselves before rushing back to work.

Your routines had changed and you went from a life of the party girl to someone who would be exhausted in bed before 10pm. You missed your old lifestyle, you missed going out with friends and getting into trouble that often resulted in silly, fun stories the next day but you had to admit that living near the beach, surrounded by fresh air and forests, was peaceful. The months rolled into a year and it never wore off – that peace, the serenity, and the healing that comes with time. You had managed to grow, to learn, to find more to your life than chasing after boys and passing out in random beds every weekend.

Plus, you were able to bond with Spice and eat her delicious baking whenever you wanted.

Like right now, as the mouth-watering smell of freshly baked cookies wafts through the kitchen into the front of the bakery. You start to salivate, comedically following the sweet scent towards the viewing window and smiling at your sister. Serena, or Spice as you affectionately call her, is standing in the messy kitchen with her hair tied up in a messy bun and an apron on with flour over the front where she’s used it as a hand cloth. “Are they ready?” You stare intensely at the oven while Serena laughs in amusement, shaking her head, “what?!” Your voice raises an octave as you pull away from the window, heading towards the kitchen with the door swinging closed behind you as you enter.

“Nothing, I’m just surprised that our customers have anything to eat with the way that you are always ‘taste-testing’ everything I make.” Scrunching your cute nose up, you swipe one of the bakery’s signature chocolate chip cookies sitting on the tray and take a bite. The deliciousness is overpowered by the heat, causing you to tilt your head back and breathe out hot air with a whine. “You literally just watched me take it out of the oven, silly! What are you doing?” Oh, don't you look so funny trying to cool down the burning cookie in your mouth?

“I couldn’t wait! They smelled so good!” You tried to speak with your mouth full of goodness.

Clicking her tongue at you, Serena passes over a plate for you to quickly place down the cookie and grab a glass of milk to help soothe the burning sensation in your mouth. “Clearly.” She laughs when you begin acting a little more dramatically than you need to, helping the woman settle her nerves about the massive catering event later. “You can’t eat everything that comes out of the oven today, I’m sorry that you’ll have to make do with what we already have out the front. With the size of the catering order, I need every cookie I make.”

You smile and giggle, nodding your head as you grab your plate and take another bite, “don’t forget about our regular coming in today for his order!” You wave the cookie in goodbye before heading out to the front, just in time to hear the front doorbell chime, announcing a customer walking in. “He hasn’t missed a week since he started coming here!” Serena hums softly to show that she hasn’t forgotten and getting back to work, You turn to smile at the newcomer. “Hello!” You smile brightly, your cheeks soft and round, as you place your plate out of sight under the till. You walk out to the front of the store, past all the breads and pastries, to check over some of the items, “if you are after anything in particular, feel free to ask.” The customer bows in acknowledgement while browsing while you simply tidy the savoury displays up.

The day passes by rather quickly and you are certain that if you didn’t go and annoy Serena every few moments then she would lose her mind or drown in the amount of cookies and macarons that she has made today. You help where you can, mostly with the savoury items, placing all the food onto trays and organising them so that they are ready for pick up while Serena focuses on baking and making sure that nothing in the store is running low. A lot of work for you two but you both manage to get it done and before long, you are finally able to sit down on your little stool behind the counter. The clock indicates it’s time for the kitchen to start getting cleaned so now you can focus on selling whatever is left over so that you don’t have too much waste when closing.

You realise as you scroll through your notifications that the regular hasn’t arrived to collect his order and honestly, you pout at the thought that maybe he had forgotten; not only does Serena put extra effort into the order because he’s their first regular since you established the bakery and gained a reputation around town but also because… well, he’s hot. You know that the food isn’t just for him, the amount alone is way too much for one person to eat by themselves and it doesn’t matter whether it’s for friends or a girlfriend because you're far too shy to actually ask but you just like looking at him. From a distance, of course, you’re not that weird… or you hope not. He has this smile that makes you melt inside every time you see it and he is really friendly – is it wrong that you have a little crush?

“You could always help me with the cleaning, you know,” Serena pops her head through the door, glaring at the younger sister as you sit on your phone replying to a friend about a party happening in the city this weekend. It’s been a long time since you had gone and seen everyone and while most of the group that you spent time with in university are people you still get along with, there are some you could happily go without seeing ever again but your friend thought it’ll be good to catch up.

It should be fine, right? A party, plenty of people, it shouldn’t be that bad.

Looking over at Serena, you smile innocently, pointing to the front of the store where you had placed some of the sandwiches and pastries to entice people to come inside and see what else you had to offer. “Oh, but dearest sister, if I am out the back helping you then who is going to make sure that nobody is stealing your delicious goodies?”

Serena scoffs, raising an eyebrow as a man stops and looks over the assortment, “and what? If he stole a sandwich, would you chase him down the street and tackle him to the ground for theft?”

Gasping dramatically, you place your hand over your chest in faux offence, “Rude! Are you saying that I can’t run?”

“Can you?”

There’s a moment of silence before the two of you start to laugh, her head disappearing from the door to carry on with her closing while you stand up and place your phone in your apron pocket. Straightening out your dress, you try your best to stifle your laughter as the man walks inside with a brown paper bag full of sandwiches. “Welcome to Everything Nice!” You chime cheerfully, watching as he slowly walks around, grabbing a few extra items here and there before making his way to the counter. 

The man’s attire stands out in contrast to your soft pastel purple dress, with pockets you like to point out. His black band tee has been made into a singlet by having the sleeves cut off and his black jeans are paired with some black boots and of course, you wonder where this man came from. “If you want anything else, everything is half-price since we are closing soon.” You smile at him, hoping that maybe his attitude is brighter than his wardrobe. You didn’t manage to get a good look at him earlier while he was strolling his way through the small bakery but when you take in his features, you pause, blinking slowly as you take him in.

Seriously, where in all that is holy did this man come from?

You’ve lived here for a while now, you’ve made friends with some of the locals but never have you laid eyes on this man but then… Why does he feel familiar? Not that you can figure it out right there but you’re certain you’ve never met. Yet, there’s this strange feeling, a flutter in your stomach as your eyes slowly trace over his face, that he is someone important, like a long-lost friend that you’ve forgotten.

Maybe more but surely not.

His deep brown, almost black, eyes are on you as he patiently waits for you to do something other than stare at him – like your job. His features are masculine, strong, and makes you wonder if he was in one of your classes but if you did go to school together, he’d have said something by now right? You have a good memory, most of the time, so you’re certain there’s no connection to him but it doesn’t chase away that feeling. Eerie. The sharpness of his jawline is in direct opposition to the softness of his full lips, which are currently pulled into a frown because instead of working – you’re openly staring at him and probably making him uncomfortable.

Scratch that. Definitely making him uncomfortable.

Clearing your throat, you pull your gaze away from his face with a tinge of pink colouring your cheeks. You hadn’t missed the size of his biceps when he crossed them over his chest while waiting, and the unholiest thought went through your mind in that moment – and a sudden need to know what it would be like to feel them around you.

Chris’ day started about as good as it would go walking across a room filled with mouse traps. As the Alpha of the Moonlight Grove Pack, he’s been stuck in discussion with other neighbouring packs about a peace deal. They’ve had a few close calls with some hunters lately and this way, they can keep under the radar to prevent them from getting any closer than they already are. Most of the Alphas have agreed to the terms of the deal as they all know that this is the best way for them to get through these next few months unscathed.

Hunters are always finding new ways to capture them, to destroy what they consider the darkness that haunts the forests but usually they give up after failed attempts to find a wolf. A lot of these packs have been here for generations, Chris’ pack being one of the oldest and while there are always risks that come with staying in one place, his father refused to run away and so does he.

There have always been talks about fighting back but an all-out war with the hunters isn’t a smart move and while Chris might have a short temper, he likes to play things smart; he’s not the type of Alpha who will rush into a fight without knowing whether he’s going to win or lose. He also doesn’t lose, or particularly like losing. He doesn’t care about wolf pride, he doesn’t care about fighting until his final breath, he couldn’t give a shit about all of that if it means being a mounted fucking head on the wall of some human who happened to be a good shot.

He’d rather keep his pack alive than have them torn apart like he’s seen with other packs.

Some of the rogues, however, are not as eager to back down and comply. They don’t care for peace, they don’t care about following orders and they also don’t care for hunters. This is why they left the packs that they were connected to, not wanting to be tied to some rules that forced them to bow down when they’d rather die fighting. It’s a painful thing to do but for some wolves, it’s better than being what they consider being cowardly.

The wolf rubs his chin as he thinks about the look on his old beta’s face when they stood nose to nose earlier during the meeting. Sure, it was a hit to the gut when he saw Minho standing there with the other rogues, his oldest friend having left the pack a year ago when Chris didn’t retaliate against the death of his mate. It’s not that he didn’t want to – fuck, the wolf in him wanted nothing more than to tear the entire pack apart with his best friend beside him. He wanted to provide vengeance, feel their necks snap in his strong jaws, and taste their blood on his tongue but nobody could have afforded a war then, just like they can’t now, so the Alpha took the diplomatic approach and had the offending wolf rejected from his pack.

It’s forbidden to kill another wolf’s mate, considered one of the most heinous crimes anyone can commit against their fellow wolf kind, and he should have died for the act but it wasn’t going to bring Minho’s mate back.

Minho had left shortly after, not wanting to follow his Alpha’s command about no violence, and sought out revenge on his own. This resulted in him severing his connection to the pack and that was the last time Chris had seen him.

Weak. That was what Minho had called him back then and the word swirls around in his mind as he remembers the incident. Shaking his head, Chris pushes away the thoughts as he rounds the corner to the pastel yellow bakery that he’s been frequenting for the past few months.

Not him directly since Felix, his new second in command, has been collecting his orders but it’s still him who pays for the orders.

He remembers hearing about Everything Nice opening up. The stir that the two sisters created when they moved into town and opened up the bakery was enough to have the Alpha and his pack curious about who they could be. It isn’t unusual for people to come and go but considering that the town isn’t what he would consider a dream location for two young women – their reasons for coming here did cause rumours to fly around. He scoffs, thinking about how easily amused people can be when they have mundane lives of their own because realistically, he couldn’t care less about why they had moved here. The only reason he had been curious was because this was his territory and he wanted to make sure they weren’t going to bring trouble with them.

It makes sense though, a bakery like theirs should be doing well here as it’s a business that has no competition, locals that’ll happily purchase their treats, and during the summer, tourists coming for the beach.

While Chris may not really care about their reason, as he approaches and looks over the sandwiches left outside, he does admit they made really good bread. He fills up a paper bag and heads inside, his nose instantly bombarded with an abundance of smells that make his stomach growl in hunger.

“Welcome to Everything Nice!” A soft and sweet voice calls to him when he enters the bakery, the bell ringing above the door almost unheard as he looks over in her direction briefly before he looks back at the other items in his path, half listening to what she’s saying. Something about deals. Chris hums, more to himself than anything, looking over the pastries and grabbing a few extra items since he knows that the boys will complain about him not bringing them back as much as he can carry.

Who said he was a bad Alpha? Like fuck he is.

When he finally reaches the counter, placing all the bags on the glass bench, he watches as the woman’s eyes widen, her mouth slightly parting in shock and it takes everything in him to refrain from sighing as she openly checks him out. Honestly, it’s not unusual for him to gain this type of reaction from women and it’s usually followed by some type of hair twirl and batting of the eyelashes. In the past, he would have engaged, flirted with them, and gotten their number but today – he doesn’t care… oh?

All that happens is that the woman blushes as she rings everything up on the till.

Interesting.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” Chris’ lip twitches slightly, amused that despite her attempt to seem unaffected, it’s obvious that she is with the way her voice hitches slightly and her heart is racing.

Tilting his head to the side, Chris checks her out with the same openness that she had before, causing her to get more flustered by his actions. There’s something about her, something he isn’t going to try to figure out while everyone is waiting for him so he hums, nodding his head instead of asking for her name.

Maybe he’s fucked her back in university.

“I have an order here, it should be ready by now.” He speaks, his voice softer than usual but still holding that timbre that has most women swooning for him. “The order is under the name ‘Christopher’.”

“Oh?” She sounds a little surprised, confused maybe, but she doesn’t elaborate as she nods her head and turns on her heels to grab a large box from behind her. “I was wondering when he was going to come in, can you tell him I said hi?”

Chris raises an eyebrow, it’s not hard to figure out this woman is under the impression that Felix is him. It’s not surprising really, it’s not like there was a photo attached to his name but surely the beta would have said his name at some point… it’s been months. “Are you close with him?” Felix hasn’t really spoken about her specifically but he does always hear the beta talk about the two sisters and how cute the younger one is, bright and cheerful, as sweet as the cupcakes that they make.

She shakes her head, the softest smile on her face. “Mm, not super close, no. He’s our favourite regular, especially since lately, he brings us flowers.” She brings his attention to the bouquet of freshly picked peonies and it takes everything in Chris not to growl in annoyance. Those are from his garden, he was wondering what was happening to his flowers and why they were oddly disappearing. “We are very happy to have his support!”

Oh, it would be so easy to burst that little bubble of hers but Chris decides that he’s not going to do that – yet. Instead, he takes a deep breath, inhaling in an addictively sweet, sugary scent mixed with the peonies, and forces himself to smile. He’s going to have fun with this, it’s been a while since he was able to fuck around like this so why not pick on the human who doesn’t know better. Not only is Felix never allowed to come and collect his order anymore, but he’s going to see how long he can drag this out.

Does he need to do this? Absolutely not but with everything going on lately, he needs the entertainment.

“Ah, well, I’ll make sure to let him know,” he passes the woman his card, noticing that she doesn’t even bother to check the name on the card as she swipes it down the machine and hands it back to him. “See you next time,” he winks, making that deliciously pink tinge return to her cheeks, grabbing the handles of the bags and heads for the door. “I swear to the fucking Moon Goddess, Felix…” he growls through gritted teeth as the door swings closed behind and he walks with purpose back towards his car.

His peonies? Seriously?

The man comes in to collect the order every time over the next month, the order that is his and you still haven’t figured it out. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t told you that it’s his so how else would you know this? It must really amuse him whenever you pass on your wishes to Felix… or well, him. He walks in, carrying a few extra items from out the front every time, and would even buy a loaf of bread or a small pack of cupcakes on top of the order. “For myself,” he says while you neatly box everything up and place a little discount coupon for him to use the next time he comes in.

You have learned that he’s not one for conversation, choosing to listen unless you directly ask him questions but it’s clear that he’s observing everything around them; like he needs to be aware of his surroundings at all times, which has you wondering who he is for him to be so on edge like that. He’s definitely not famous… maybe it’s an ex that he’s trying to avoid seeing. Sometimes, he makes a few teasing comments that cause your cheeks to heat up because you don’t know whether this insanely attractive man is actually flirting with you or if he’s just pushing your buttons since you’ve been caught several times checking him out.

Yeah, you’re not exactly subtle about it.

“So, are you a part of the ‘everything nice’?” He asks one Friday afternoon, leaning his hip against the counter, arms folded as the black tee he wears strains over the muscles of his chest. Dark, curious eyes twinkling lightly as he looks you up and down before making their way to your face, watching your reaction. 

You giggle, playfully rolling your eyes because that isn’t the first time someone has tried their luck with that particular pick up line. Every single guy that has walked into the bakery has tried it but honestly, it almost works with the amount of confidence he spoke with and that smirk on his lips has you feeling like you could melt. He could ask you for anything and you’d probably agree. Tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, you pack the items. “You do know that you aren’t the first person to say that, right? I’ve had three guys use that on me already.” You shake your head, amused, before entering the total into the EFTPOS machine, and the man hands over the card.

A low hum escapes him as he tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, “And you turn them all down because you have someone already?”

“Well, I didn’t say that, did I?” Your lips quirk upwards into a teasing smile as you pass the card back to him, meeting his eyes and you wonder if that’s interest swirling within those dark irises or if he always looks this intense. Probably both. Either way, it really does something to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

He’s about to say something, clearly wanting to be able to continue this, but the ringing of his phone cuts the conversation short and he pulls away. “I’ll see you around, sugar~.” He says as he grabs everything before taking his leave and of course, you watch him as he goes.

Damn, he’s got such a nice ass.

“What is it?” Chris growls lowly into his phone as he walks out of the bakery, not glancing back even though he can feel the pretty woman’s eye on him, watching him closely leaves. Oh, it’s tempting to turn back and watch her fluster when she knows that he caught her staring. The way her cheeks go the loveliest shade of pink every time and her eyes widen like a deer in headlights before trying to busy herself has started to become his favourite reaction yet.

He’s wearing the same style as he always has when he’s come to visit, a black tee that fits him perfectly, sometimes missing the sleeves but always hinting at the strong muscles hiding underneath, and some kind of black pants. His wardrobe doesn’t really have a lot of variety these days but he couldn’t really give a shit about it when he had more to worry about than being some kind of fashion icon. His short black hair isn’t usually styled since he’s often running his fingers through it all day so it’s slightly messy by the time he arrives and while Chris doesn’t care if he looks particularly show stopping – she seems to find it to be with the way she’s looking. Maybe she’s looking for a prospective mate, she seems to be in that age where women are usually doing that, and the way she’s checking him out makes it clear that the woman is single but if a mate is something she’s after… Chris is not the man for her.

Even in the cutest dresses that change every single time he comes in, even when her smile seems to take up all of his attention that he forgets why he’s there, and even when her scent lingers around him, drawing him in – Chris is not the man for her.

He’d be the worst thing to happen to a human and oh, this woman is far too precious to break. Like that, anyway.

A name grabs his attention, pulling his wandering thoughts away from the sweetest thing he’s laid his eyes on and causes his jaw to clench. “He left. What the fuck is he doing hanging around my territory?”

When a wolf leaves the pack they are in, depending on the circumstances they are either forbidden to return or can come and go without consequences. It’s not that Chris has actually told Minho and his little band of wayward followers that they can’t visit the pack territory, it’s more about why they are here. His former beta only comes when he wants something or wants to cause trouble and from the way the wolf has been hanging around lately - something is coming Chris hates that he’s in the dark about it.

“He still hasn’t told you his name?” Serena walks out of the kitchen when the man leaves, watching as you walk back from having locked the door behind him and trying to get one last look at the tasty treat of a man before he disappears for another week. “You’d think that because he’s picking up the order, he would have given you a name too.” She leans a shoulder against the wall and looks at the front door with that disapproving big sister scowl.

Shrugging your shoulders, you pout slightly because she has a good point. You had been meaning to ask for his name, maybe his number, but the chance never really came up since it’s not like he’s very forthcoming with any type of chatter unless he’s flirting and making your poor heart stutter. “If he’s hot then there’s surely going to be some kind of red flag about him,” you recite the saying that you and your friends would say whenever they found a new fling. Spice looks at you for a moment, lips pursed as if she’s about to say something but then decides against it; instead, she sighs and heads over to the register to start the cash up while you put everything away and begin closing down the store.

Usually, you get rather chatty, laughing and playing music as you clean up but tonight, the both of you want to get out of there as quickly as possible. You both have plans, plans that will end the week on a good note and you don’t want to waste a moment since you still need to head upstairs and get ready.

Girls night. It has been a while since you have managed to get your sister to get out to Seoul and you  want nothing more than to go catch up with your friends, let loose, and paint the town red. While the town has a nightclub or two, it is always the same people who frequent them and it is so hard to be free for the night when one mistake could end up becoming the town’s gossip the next day.

You also refuse to have to serve the man at any point afterward.

Once everything has been done, you lock the back door behind her, rattling the handle to make sure it’s locked before rushing up the stairs behind Serena. Your two-bedroom apartment is conveniently located above the bakery and helps you both out with travel costs since you don’t need to commute to work. Most people who come from the city might say that it is a downgrade and in a sense, it is; modest and small, half the size of what you once had but it has everything two women could possibly need. You love the space and you don’t have to pay a ridiculous amount of rent for the place. Your bra comes off immediately as soon as you close the door and kick off your shoes. “You know…” You start as you flop down onto the couch and drop the cursed item of clothing onto the floor.

“No,” Serena states as she places her bag down on the table and shakes her head while you lift yours to look over at her, appalled that you were shot down before you could even state your case. “Your breasts are big enough that you will be able to tell that you aren’t wearing a bra. We want people to come into the bakery for our food - not men coming in to stare at your nipples.”

Sitting up, you frown at your older sister like a child who has just been told off by a parent, “That’s rude.” You grumble before getting up and heading to your room. “Since you’re being such a spoilsport, I’m going to use the shower first!” You poke your tongue out before pretending to stomp your feet on your way out.

Serena hums in acceptance as if to simply please the tantrum you’re having while continuing her own routine. You toss your bra into the washing basket in the corner near your bed before going to the wardrobe to browse through your clothes. You want something that’ll catch attention, something that’ll help make sure that the pent-up sexual frustration will be taken care of because you refuse to resort to Tinder in this tiny town. Imagine sleeping with the guy who always messes up your coffee order!

Oh? This should do perfectly. You think to herself as you find a pretty red dress with a very low cut, revealing back.

“You look like you’re going to try and get in trouble.” Your sister comments when she gets out of the shower and finds you sitting at your vanity doing your makeup. You’re taking your time to make sure that you look dangerous, your hair a little wild and your makeup bold, you want to look like you could catch the attention of those mafia boyfriends you love to read about.

Maybe enough to catch the attention of a dangerous man who frequents the bakery. You can only hope.

Smiling proudly, you stand up and twirl around before striking a silly pose, causing Serena to laugh. “Thank you~. I’m going for the deadly Queen vibe.” You pucker your lips, making herself look even more ridiculous in the hopes that it’ll help your sister loosen up about the night. She’s protective, she always has been, and while you love her to the moon and back – she needs to leave that protectiveness behind for one night and focus on getting laid.

Not that you’ll actually tell her that… okay, maybe you will. Who knows what you’ll do? The night is young.

A hand claps on his shoulder, causing Chris to tense briefly before he relaxes and turns his head to face Felix. The younger wolf smiles at the approaching bartender before telling her the orders that the Alpha didn’t provide before. “The whole reason to say you’ll order drinks is to actually, you know, order the drinks, man,” Felix speaks quietly, throwing a concerned look at the other. Chris looks like he’s suffering from a headache from the music but really, the ear-splitting volume isn’t the reason. “You coming back to the table?”

The both of them look over at the table in question and Chris’ upper lips curl, a low grow emitting from deep within his chest. The reason for the possible headache is smiling over at them, waving his fingers before looking around the room. He doesn’t know why he agreed to this, coming to a nightclub to have a serious talk like this but apparently, this is considered neutral ground. Being out of the territory and surrounded by humans would mean that they would all be on their best behaviours but that’s where they underestimate who they are dealing with – Minho doesn’t exactly have a ‘best behaviour’. Scheming, ruthless, and manipulative, Minho has always been good at getting himself into trouble, equally as good at getting out of it too, and this setting wouldn’t actually stop the wolf from causing trouble.

It’ll only stop all of them from starting a fight in a place where hunters could be lurking.

“You could ease up on the alcohol, you know,” Chris says pointedly, helping Felix grab the drinks placed in front of them. It’s not unusual for Felix to be with him since he is the second in command but Felix isn’t a warrior. He was never trained to be a fighter like the betas usually are, he’s smart, and fast but he’s more of a gentle soul. The only reason Felix is with him tonight and not someone like Changbin is because there is too much bad blood between Minho and the other betas and Chris is reducing the drama as much as he can tonight; they might not have a blast but they can get through it alive at least. “Now,” Chris clears his throat when they both approach the table, placing the drinks down before taking a seat and leaning back into the worn black leather. Folding his arms over his chest, he looks at the former pack wolf, eyes narrowing slightly, “We’ve had a few drinks, what the fuck do you want?”

Minho acts like he has all the time in the world as he grabs his drink, ignoring the question while taking a sip. It’s obvious that he’s exerting his freedom, showing he doesn’t have to respond to the Alpha if he doesn’t want to. However, when Minho finally speaks, Chris is sure that he’s had too many drinks to be serious. Alcohol doesn’t affect wolves the same way that it does humans, supernatural healing allows them to filter out the effects faster so it takes a lot to get them drunk but there is no way he said something that fucking insane without being drunk. Chris snorts while Felix coughs into his glass before looking as dumbfounded as the older. “Shall I repeat myself?” Minho says calmly, looking over the rim of his glass at his former Alpha, “I. Want. To. Challenge. You.” Each enunciated word sounds as ridiculous as the first time he said it.

“Are you fucking brain dead? You can’t be serious?” Chris laughs shortly in disbelief.

Minho remains perfectly at ease as he places his glass down, his eyes flash for a moment that has the other two tensing up, “Deadly.” It’s almost like he’s certain he’s going to win, like there is absolutely no way that he could lose. “You’re unmated which means that the leadership of the pack will eventually be up for grabs so why not take my chances early?”

“So you think that you can challenge me now and fucking take over?” His jaw clenches so hard that it feels like his teeth could almost shatter from the tension. “I have a while before I need to worry about–”

“You avoid every mating ceremony, even wolves without packs attend those. Word gets around. The great Christopher Bang refuses to take a mate. Stubborn as fucking always, Chris. You know that having a mate makes us stronger.” Minho knows the right buttons to push, he knows the reasons why Chris won’t accept a mate, and like the master manipulator that he is, he’s using it against him.

For what reason, nobody but he knows.

“Is that what it did for you?” He bites back, his jaw ticking as his hand nearly crushes the glass he’s holding. It’s a shitty comment to throw back at him; Minho was happy when he had his mate and what happened wasn’t his fault at all, it was something nobody could have known would happen, but Chris couldn’t help himself.

He thought that Minho might lose it, might find that stab as painful as the day his mate died and give them away, just so he could have a good reason as to why he wouldn’t accept the challenge but he’s only left disappointed. There’s a flash of gold in Minho’s eyes before he closes them to take a deep breath, settling himself back into the calm state like before. “You can try and get out of this, Chris, but the only way that you can secure your hold is by either accepting the challenge and winning or by finding your mate.” He turns his head as if he is looking for something, maybe someone, eyes scanning the crowds around them, but really, he’s looking for a reason to leave. “You have until the end of the week, Alpha, and if you haven’t decided by then – I’m going to take this to the next meeting.”

With that, Minho gets up and makes his way towards the door, pushing his way through people with Chris glaring after him. “That fucking asshole!” Chris growls deeply, drinking the entire contents of his glass before slamming it back down as he takes deep, heavy breaths. “He’s doing this to start a damn war.”

“Well, don’t let him.” Chris can tell that Felix has somehow gotten distracted, his attention barely on his Alpha and the meltdown he’s currently having but on the two women that Minho is now talking to. The interaction has both of the wolves’ hackles raised as they watch from their seat as Minho leans in close to whisper something in the shorter woman’s ear. “She looks… God, look at her.” He whispers, more to himself than to Chris and it takes everything in him not to snap at the beta for whom he thought Felix was looking at, talking about, thinking of.

It would make sense, right? Felix has been bringing her flowers, talking to her, and giving her a good image of himself, so good that she’s always asking about him. When is he coming back? How is he doing? Did he like last week’s order? Fuck, it drives him crazy that she’s clearly more interested in his beta but it drives him insane that he’s even caring about something like that. 

Why wouldn’t Felix like her? She has this air about her that is captivating, even if she isn’t aware of it. She’s beautiful, more beautiful than the peonies Felix has been gifting her. She captures attention with her smile, brighter than the sun, and it makes Chris want to be the reason for such a sight. He wants to be the reason she laughs, a contagious little laugh that makes his own lips curl in response. This woman is the flame and the wolves are the moths that are attracted to her and why wouldn’t they be? Especially now. Fuck sakes, she looks–

“Shit.”

When you walked into the club, arms intertwined with Serena’s, the last thing you expected was some scarily handsome man coming up to you and striking up a conversation. He totally lucked out in the gene pool, his features similar to the men on the covers of her favourite books and that smirk on his lips really does something to her. You are aware that you’ll attract attention tonight because you dressed to impress but hitting the jackpot like this before even stepping onto the dance floor and showing what you’ve got to offer? That’s some type of lottery luck that you don’t think you have.

Serena keeps your arms interlocked as this man talks to you, acting a little too friendly for her liking. Isn’t it strange that he was heading for the door, clearly wanting to leave but all of a sudden, he’s suddenly happy to stand and chat? You clearly don’t have the same mistrust and thought process as your sister but that is because you did drink significantly more and are more susceptible to the sweet compliments he pays. “I’m so sorry for the mistake, doll, I honestly thought you were in my class last year.” He says after a while, pretending that his friendliness was due to him thinking you were someone he knew, “I swear we have met before.”

“Maybe!” You giggle, covering your mouth with your other hand, “maybe you’ve seen me in your dreams~.” The comment is only meant to be a joke, a little flirtatious comment said offhandedly and not meaning anything at all but his eyes darken slightly.

Leaning in, his hand rests on your waist to keep you close enough for him to whisper in your ear. You shiver slightly, the alcohol confusing your fear for excitement, while Serena tenses at his closeness. Clearly, one of them is thinking about the intentions of this stranger. “Little lamb, I would be very careful about whose dreams you choose to wander into~. You never know what’ll happen in them.” 

Blinking, confused, you laugh slightly to cover up the feeling of uncertainty about whether he just flirted with you or if he had threatened you. Surely not the latter, right? You don’t know him, why would he threaten you like that? However, there’s no time to ask or linger on the thought since the stranger is bowing politely and bidding you both goodnight, leaving without waiting for a response and causing you to watching him go.

What a strange interaction. Did he mean that the dreams could be spicy? That has to be it, right? Surely, he didn’t threaten you…

Your sister pulls you towards the bar and your head turns back to the door for a moment, running it through your mind briefly before shaking your head. He’s a fish that’s gone back into of fish, there’s no need to waste time thinking about a failed catch – there’s plenty more to lure in and hook. “What a weirdo,” Serena grumbles under her breath as she waves her hand to catch the attention of the bartender.

You nod slightly, “Yeah…” Immediately, the encounter is gone out of your mind as the DJ starts to play your favourite song, almost like everything is telling you to not focus on what happened and focus on what could happen. “Oh my God!” You squeal, turning to Serena and giving her arm a tug, “Come and dance with me!”

Out of the two, you have always had the passion for dancing, originally you wanted to be a ballerina before your parents pushed you towards a career choice that would ‘actually make money’. Serena never really had the same excitement as you did so while one practices and takes classes in her spare time, the other has two left feet.

Brushing you off, Serena shakes her head which has you whining slightly before looking out to the dance floor longingly and then back to the bar before the decision is made. “You know what I want!” You kiss your sister’s cheek, “I’m going to dance! Come find me when you have our drinks!” You dash towards the crowd, narrowing missing the way that two men are watching you and Serena with curiosity and interest.

It's not unusual for you to rush off, especially when you’re drunk. You have always lived your life a little more carefree than your older sister, even while you were studying hard in university, you never sacrificed your social life for sleepless nights in the library. Healthy and balanced lives keep you mentally sane – that’s what you would tell Serena whenever the older worked herself too hard and you were dragging her out to have fun. Whenever the opportunity came to let loose, to go out and do something crazy, you never failed to take the chance with both hands simply to see where the night would end.

The night usually ended in someone’s bed but hey, at least they were cute!

Closing your eyes, you move in time with the music, letting your body move freely and the more into it you get – the wider your smile becomes. You don’t notice the bodies around you, anyone who might be too close to you because everyone is doing exactly what you’re doing – living in their own world on the dance floor. A slave to the music, hypnotised by the atmosphere, you close your eyes and let your body move however the beat wants it to. You don’t notice when a firm body presses against your back, calloused fingers ghosting over your hips, not touching but close to, the tease of the connection has you leaning against him and allowing the stranger to pull you closer, moving in time with you.

The anonymity of the strong body behind you keeps your eyes closed as you raise your hands to wrap around behind his neck, head resting against his shoulder, tilting to the side as you can feel his hot breath against your neck. You can feel electricity rushing through your veins where he’s touching you and it’s like you’re one, bodies moving in time with each other. His large hands hover over your wrists as you bring them down before your fingers intertwine and wrap around your stomach to keep you against him. Everything in your body is alive with a fire that you’ve never felt before, so sensitive as his fingers trace as light as a feather over your body, having you react in ways that shouldn’t be so easily pulled with such little effort. It is like he knows every string to strum, a musician knowing how to play you with a skill that should take a lifetime to master, not seconds, and you’re merely the willing instrument wanting to sing for him.

Soft pillowy lips rest on your pulse and you instinctively give more access, wanting to feel the pressure even if it’s for the briefest of moments. The world no longer exists, your name unheard over the music because all you can focus on, all you know in this moment is your stranger. Nothing else matters, nothing but him, you, and this feeling blossoming within you.

A growl erupts from those lips, so tantalisingly close, and vibrates through his chest before the warmth that you feel, the firmness of his muscles against your back, and the moment that you’re wrapped in is gone and you take a while to fully realise that it has left.

“What…?” You blink, opening your eyes a little too late to catch his retreating back push through the crowd, towards the door. It takes another second longer to figure out where you are before you see Serena, waving at you from a booth with your drink getting warmer by the minute. Running your fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your face, you let out a sigh of disappointment and head over to your sister, hoping that she saw the man that you were dancing with. “Did you—”

She must have known exactly what you were thinking because Serena shakes her head, making you pout as you dramatically plop down in the seat next to her. “No, when I saw you dancing, his head was lowered to your neck, it looked like he was kissing it.” You subconsciously rub the spot where you had felt his lips, faintly feeling a tingle there, before reaching for your drink and consuming almost half the glass. “I couldn’t see his face but from the size of him, he would have been your type. What happened?”

You think about it for a moment, trying to remember what exactly happened but the moment you felt him against you, everything blurred together and you couldn’t even figure out what was going on. You were alone, he was there for what felt like a magical moment, and then you were alone again. Shrugging, you groan and bury your face into your hands. Seriously? He could have been the perfect man to break your dry spell with and now you’re not going to be able to even think about anyone else because you’ll be too busy dreaming about what it would have been like to be broken by what felt like a God.

“Of course, I’m going to obsess over this mystery man.” You grumble to yourself as you take a sip of your cocktail, staring out into the crowd as if you could catch a glimpse of him.

Tsk, what crappy luck.

“What-”

“Shut it.”

“Chris, wow, she was-”

Felix’s back meets the brick wall with Chris’ nose almost touching his, the younger is now on the tips of his toes thanks to the hold he’s in. The older wolf is breathing heavily, almost like he’s gulping down the outside air to get rid of her scent. “Don’t fucking say it, you hear me? Don’t even think it. If you say anything to anyone about what just happened then I’ll rip out your tongue and feed it to you.” The image is vivid and Felix nods before Chris shoves away from him and storms off in the direction of the car.

Chris doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to think about her. He doesn’t want to think about the way she looked, the way she smelled, oh, the way she could have tasted. The last thing that Chris wants to think about right now is her, especially when his body is coiled and ready to stalk back into that club so that he can drag her out. Kiss her. Claim her.

Do everything that he’s refused to do.

Chris has been talking to her, has been in the same space as her a few times now, and never, not once, had he thought about her afterward… Well, actually, that’s a lie, isn’t it? He has thought about her but it wasn’t anything serious, just a few thoughts here and there. Sure, he couldn’t get her scent out of his system whenever he was there but that’s because it was always mixed in with the bakery. How could he get rid of it when he would be surrounded by it the moment he walked into the bakery and then had it linger on the packaging that she’d give him? There’s no other reason as to why he can pick it up anywhere he’s been, not one… Fuck! He should have known it from the moment he saw her, from their first conversation, he hated the way that she was so taken by Felix and his angelic sweetness; he should have known but the Alpha was far too preoccupied with everything else going on that it just didn’t register.

It all hit him like a fucking freight train when he saw her tonight though. The way her outfit fit her perfectly, making her look like one of the delicious treats her sister makes so well, something to be savoured, tasted only with the finest palate because everything about her is perfection and deserves only the best. Try as he might, Chris could not deny the overwhelming jealousy that had reared its ugly head when Minho stopped to talk to her – which got even worse when Chris could pick up on his scent still lingering on her skin when he got close.

It still bothers him actually. It bothers him that out of all the people in the club, Minho somehow managed to single her out and spoke to her – despite how he clearly made her sister feel. She seemed to have a normal reaction, a reaction that a prey would have around a predator because something in the back of their mind knows that danger is close, that a monster, a killer, is nearby… would she think that about him?

She didn’t seem to have the same reaction that her sister did, she didn’t recoil from him but instead flashed the prettiest smile until he said something that wiped it from her soft lips…

Jesus, fuck, he needs to stop thinking about her.

Chris shakes his head, refusing to let those thoughts continue their rampage on his mind. He’s thinking about Minho speaking to her and what purpose he had for it, not thinking about how she might have felt or marvelling at her beauty.

Damn, Chris, get your head on straight.

It’s like Chris couldn’t keep himself away from her when she walked onto the dance floor; she had walked right past him and didn’t even notice him but it honestly didn’t matter because he was zoned in on her. So much so, that when her body started moving so flawlessly, she was a siren and Chris was nothing more than a helpless sailor diving into the deep to answer her call. Of course, he lies to himself about how he didn’t want to touch her right away, he didn’t want to claim ownership right then and there even though… his wolf knows that he wanted to. He knew that he couldn’t claim her right there, that she needed to come to him, to open up to him, accept his advances for him to cave, and when she did – everything clicked into place.

He never thought it would feel like that. He never thought that someone could feel like an extension of himself but now that he knows… How can he possibly forget that feeling?

She’s going to be his downfall, his destruction, and fuck, he doesn’t know whether he actually wants to fight it.

Anyone would think that Chris realising that this woman is his mate would mean that he’d dote on her, that he’d go out of his way to make her day better.

No. Oh, lordy no.

Despite how much his body is drawn to her, no matter how badly his wolf calls for her in the back of his mind, the Alpha refuses to give in to the pull of his mate and since she isn’t aware, sweetly oblivious to the supernatural world and werewolves, it makes it easier for him to remove the obstacle. Well, the easiest way to get rid of her, to stop their paths from crossing, would be to stop ordering those delicious treats from the bakery, to stop going and collecting them for the chance to see her, but Chris refuses to be weak.

He is also an idiot who seems to not understand that always doing things the hard way isn’t going to get him ahead.

Fighting a mate bond, even one that hasn’t been established, is one of the stupidest things a wolf can do. Even if they reject their mates, a wolf will always feel that bond because it’s predestined, something that really isn’t within their control but who is going to tell him that?

“You’re coming with me.” Chris orders, turning to look at Felix who is sitting next to him in the car. He was stopping to pick up his order before they had to go and see one of the visiting Alphas; Chris has decided that he’s going to keep placing this order because, after today, the sweet scented woman will never want to see him again and he can move on with his life. It’ll be easy after this, in and out, or he can send Felix – an idiot’s plan but what is he? He can’t reject her, that wouldn’t really work and the Alpha knows that so he needs to make sure that their paths cross as little as possible, don’t let her become more of a temptation than she already is, and there’s one way that he can do that.

He just needs to make her look and feel like a fool. 

Ever since day one, he’s allowed her to believe that Felix was him, he’s played into it the entire time because while he hated the way that her smile would light up whenever she spoke about the beta – it meant that he could pretend that she would smile whenever she talked about him too. A smile so contagious that his own lips curl up as he thinks about it until he remembers why he’s here.

Chris knows that this would make her dislike him, hate him even, because while he hates the cursed apps and is often teased for being a dinosaur – he found her dating profiles the other day. On accident, or so he says. He had read it and found out her name, her age, and her Instagram, something he also decided to check out and spent way too much time looking at. He researched this woman, his destined mate, Y/N – that’s your name and during his research, Chris managed to find out that not only did you dislike it when men didn’t make the effort to make plans, you also hate when people pick on and tease other people.

You’re so soft, so sweet, fuck, you’re everything he isn’t. Isn’t it perfect? He can be everything you hate and that would be enough for the bond to remain as a faint tug in the back of his mind. The more he ignores it, the more you stay away from him, the easier it’ll get and he can carry on with life as he always has.

“Let’s go.” He grumbles, getting out of the car and slamming the door a little too aggressively while Felix throws him a look of concern. The younger wolf knows that something is going on but because Chris isn’t going to open up and tell anyone what it is – he goes along with it even if he can tell that his Alpha is on edge.

Not… bad. No, it’s not like how he is when Minho is around or whenever Chris is pulled into a meeting with the other Alphas. There’s just something there, lurking beneath the surface, that has Chris’ jaw tense and fingers flexing at his sides like he’s ready to fight.

“Hello, welcome to- oh!” Your voice raises an octave when you realise who has walked into the bakery, “You’re early! Chris! Hey!” Chris tries to avoid looking at you directly, which would be funny if this was any other reason but he just knows that the moment he sees your smile, the smile that makes your eyes sparkle like they hold all the stars within them, he will lose his resolve to do this.

He can’t. He needs to do this. You are not made for this world and besides, he doesn’t want a mate, he’s never wanted a mate and because of that – it’s better this way.

Felix is already at the counter, chatting away to you while Chris takes a deep breath and pushes down all the guilt that bubbles up in his throat, reminding himself that this is for the best. If he tells himself enough, he may convince his wolf to believe it. His eyes meet yours as if you were waiting for him to look at you, and a cocky smirk spreads across his lips as he makes his way over to the counter. Leaning against it, getting close, Chris looks you up and down before holding your gaze, “Say my name again, sugar.”

“Say my name again, sugar” It takes you a moment to register what he has said because you’re still confused about how quickly he just changed up. One minute it looked like he didn’t want to be there, like he didn’t want to get anywhere near you which was strange. You have never had a man actively avoid you like that except your ex in university who had fucked up so badly that being anywhere near you would have resulted in bodily harm. The man had been hanging back, avoiding your eyes, not engaging with you in any way but now?

You blink a couple of times and look at the man who you think is Chris, tilting your head like he might give you some insight about what is going on but he’s now avoiding looking at you, looking guilty. While you do not know these men outside of the few interactions you’ve shared with them in the bakery – you can tell that something is going on and you’re the only one not privy to what it is.

“C’mon,” the man folds his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you as if you’re not understanding him. He must know that this is so out of the left field, right? He must know that anyone would be confused by the way he’s going about this because he couldn’t have switched up that quickly… could he? You don't actually know this man, you don't even know his name so judging him based on the small interactions they’ve had in the past is a mistake when he could be the complete opposite. “You seem like a smart woman, surely you’ve figured out my name by now.” It’s a statement, not a question, implying you should know.

You look at him, brows furrowed in confusion, before shaking your head and taking a small step back. “No?” You answer slowly, drawing out the sound of the word. “You’ve never told me your name.”

There’s a glint behind his eyes, as if he’s seen a weakness in you that he can now exploit and his lip curls up into something that’s more like a sneer than a smirk. “Who is the order for, sugar?”

“Christopher Bang.” You answer in the same confused tone, looking over at ‘Chris’ for help with this questioning but the man is looking like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole. His hands are playing with the front of his shirt while his blonde locks fall into his eyes as he looks at the other man. Whatever is going on, he wishes he didn’t have to witness it and that doesn’t bode well for you.

The man nods his head, continuing with his game. “And who is Christopher Bang?”

“Ch-” The blonde is about to say something but a warning growl rumbles through the other’s chest and he shuts his mouth quickly, looking down while chewing his bottom lip. This raises more alarm bells in her head, the type that should warn you to back away before you fall into the trap set up by the predator before you.

“What are you doing?” You ask, your voice not sounding as strong as you want it to be. You don't want to play whatever weird game he’s trying to get you to participate in. You were actually excited to see the both of them but now, you just want him to get his shit and leave. You may be sweet, you may be the softest petal on a rose but you tire quickly of the games men play. If you aren't going to let your ex make a fool of you then you’re not going to let a stranger play with you.

Shaking his head and clicking his tongue almost in disappointment, the man meets your eyes, looking amused out of all things. “I’m asking the questions, sugar, be a good girl and answer them.” Okay, who the fuck does this man think he is? “Who is Christopher Bang?” You look over at the blonde as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world and he scoffs, “and why do you think that?”

You originally had thought that he was nice, hot actually, maybe you had even been working up to asking for his number or flirting to see if he would be interested in the slightest. He looks like he was plucked out of one of your books and dressed like the guy you should avoid but secretly has a heart of gold. Sadly, he’s just radiating the same energy your ex has now and while the switch up is extremely confusing – it’s also extremely disappointing.

Your shoulders rise in a shrug, “because–” Because what? You made the assumption that he was Chris because he always came and grabbed the order so when things changed and someone else collected it, you just went along with it. You were never corrected whenever you spoke about ‘Chris’, you were never told that this man wasn’t who you thought he was and that Chris was in fact someone else. You had made an assumption based on the limited information that was given and was led to believe that you were right because nobody said otherwise.

Oh, those bells are screaming now.

The realisation must have become clear on your burning red face since the man questioning you begins to laugh as you piece it all together. You bite you tongue, unable to curse him out since he’s a customer in the store. As much as you want to, you can’t yell at him and cause a scene but oh, do you really want to do it. You’re sure that if you did, Serena wouldn’t tell you off… maybe… maybe all you have to do is say that he’s been playing you for a fool and your older sister will give him a piece of her mind too. You’re screaming in your head at all the scenarios playing in your mind about how he must have been finding this so entertaining, silly girl on the counter, thinking he was someone else.

God, you must have sounded so stupid!

Asshole!

Bastard!

God, you hate very little things in this world but one of the things that make you angrier than finding out that your ex was cheating on you, is being made to feel like you’re an idiot. You know you look like you’re just a pretty face, someone too sweet and soft for their own good and yes, you’ve had people take advantage of your kindness but you are not a fool. You’re smart, you’re stronger than you look, and having people rub your mistakes in your face like you should have known better when anyone could have done the same – enrages you.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes for a moment before looking back at him with as much disdain as you can muster while simultaneously smiling. A forced smile, that much is obvious. Chris, now you can put a name to the face, might think that you’re some kind of fool but you aren't going to let him use this against you or laugh at you like you’re stupid. You refuse to allow this insignificant man to hold something like this in his grasp and wield it like a sword; you’ve dealt with worse men in university, hell, you dated worse men than him. The type of men who view you as someone who is easily torn down, naïve, a target to poke at whenever you make mistakes but you’re not weak, you’ve changed. You refuse to be that girl over something like this so you’re not letting him see that it bothers you but you do allow him to see the icy glare that you’ve perfected over the years.

“Here’s your order.” You say through your grin, boxing everything up and pushing it towards him. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of an answer, he can keep waiting for that.

Holding out your hand for the card, telling him the total, you wait to get this over and done with but it seems Chris isn’t finished playing. Just because you don't want to be a part of the game that he’s decided he’s won, for some reason, he still wants to play. “Check the name on the card next time,” he smirks as he places his card in your hand, both of you clutching it while staring at each other for a brief moment. Daggers are being shot from your softer eyes while his darker eyes narrow slightly as he lets out a soft scoff and releases the card. “Next week, I want this order doubled since I’ll be entertaining guests.”

He is just like your ex. Gross.

Rolling your eyes as you type the numbers into the machine and finish paying, you hand the card back to him, “You can make that order online. As you always do.”

“I’m telling you now, you can put it in for me.”

“Sorry,” you smile falsely, “that’s not my job. You can put it through the system properly.” Honestly, you could take the order now and do it for him, you’ve done it many times before whenever someone calls up and orders but since he’s pissed you off, no, he doesn’t get to boss you around like he owns the place. Seriously, who does he think he is?

As if on cue, Serena walks through the doors and looks at the three of them with a questioning brow raised. She had heard parts of the conversation and wanted to make sure you weren't being harassed by the customer. “Sugar,” she says the pet name with an inclination of her head, indicating for you to come with her. “I need your help in the kitchen before we close up, are you alright to come and give me a hand?”

You are thankful that Serena waits and doesn’t leave you with the walking asshole and his suddenly quiet, nameless friend. “If that’s everything,” you mumble, no polite lilt to your voice, no smile that reaches your eyes, just a simple bow of your head as you walk away with the two men watching you go. You shake your head when walking past Serena, not wanting to talk about it right now before pushing through the doors and the moment you’re out of Chris’ view, you scream. You don't care if he hears you, you don't care if he never comes back, you need to get it out before you explode.

“Ugh! What a DICK!”

Chris chuckles when he hears you scream, the sound so loud that even if he was human, he’d have heard it loud and clear. Grabbing the food, he strolls out of the bakery with your curses and insults following after him. Felix walks beside him, looking back at the store but doesn’t bother to say a word until they are both in the car, food placed safely in the back seat.

He can tell that the younger is mulling over his words, the steam is almost coming out of his ears. “What is it, Lix?”

“Did you really have to go that far?” This is the exact question Chris is almost asking himself as it settles into his mind that he has effectively, even if unknowingly, pushed a button that his mate hates enough to name him public enemy number one. He knows he didn’t need to push you that far, that he could have just avoided you and your sweet scent for the entire time that you remained in his town, on his territory, but he couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk you smiling at him on the street and Chris forgetting where he was, he couldn’t risk you being near him and Chris wanting nothing more than to feel your skin under his fingertips. Chris may not have needed to go to such an extreme but he did have to do something that would mean you’d avoid him as equally as he’s going to avoid you.

Did he really have to go that far? “Yes.” He says gruffly, the good mood he just had dissipating as he starts the car and heads towards the pack house.

Felix doesn’t say a word, he knows better than to question Chris even if he feels like he’s doing the stupidest shit ever. Chris, while not known to often be doing dumb shit, likes to think that everything he does is for a reason. Any action that would be considered personal always seems to cause him some kind of pain but whenever it comes to actions that involve the pack – he never falters in what is before for them. Except now. As much as Chris will argue it, even if the beta won’t bring it up as a way to avoid his Alpha snarling at him and telling him to walk home, Felix knows that Chris finding and accepting his mate is what is best for the pack in so many ways.

First off, it’s no secret that the dude needs to get laid.

The other reason is because wolves are stronger with their mates, werewolf or not, there’s this connection between them and their mates that seems to heighten everything about them. A wolf will find their mate’s attention and care to be healing, having them close makes them stronger and when it comes to the future of the pack – a pup born from a mated couple is blessed by the Moon Goddess. It’s why a lot of the current pack is the way it is because Chris’ parents – mates themselves – made sure to encourage the rest of the pack to find their counterparts.

Everyone does it, and everyone is willing to accept it – except the current Alpha himself.

“Are you sure?” Serena asks, watching you pace through the kitchen, hyping yourself up and giving yourself a not-so-quiet pep talk to get through the day. “It’s okay if you want me to go out and deal with him today.” She knows that this has really been getting to you over the past month and while you try to play it off like you’re okay – every interaction that you have with Chris causes you to scream in the walk-in pantry afterward. Honestly, if they had any mice in there, they definitely would have scurried away and moved out with how intense you had gotten.

Once a week would have been tolerable. Once a week would have meant that all she had to do was deal with Chris coming in and paying for his order before screwing your face up at him as he walked out the door. Once a week should have been all you would have to put up with but it seems this asshole of a man has decided that you need to see him more just to make it clear that you hate him. It’s like he’s a masochist and gets off on the sarcastic responses and cold glares you throw in his direction. Chris has his usual order which he always comes with Felix to collect now, the younger happily chatting away to Serena like a little puppy while Chris keeps saying shit that makes you want to strangle his perfectly biteable neck. He’s somehow decided though, once a week is not enough, and now Chris comes in randomly just because he’s ‘hungry’.

That’s a lie and you both know it.

He comes because he knows that it puts you on guard, it causes your entire body to react to him even when you try your best to ignore his presence and focus on the other customers in the store. You’re sure that he loves it, a Grade A asshole like what you dealt with in class, you can see the smirk on his stupidly plump lips whenever you stutter over certain words and throw daggers in his direction. Chris seems to have found a way to be able to get under your skin even when you try and tell yourself that he means nothing. He’s crawled under and hit every single nerve by simply existing and with every encounter, it messes with your head. Your dreams. Your reality basically because you’re sure that you see him even when you’re out and about.

You need to get this man out of your system before you become insane.

Serena has offered to take over, to deal with him instead but you refuse to seem weak, to run away when he’s clearly doing this as some weird dominance thing – not that it makes sense since you don't care about him. “I’m okay,” you nod your head, jumping up and down on the spot and shaking your hands to try and hype yourself up. Serena can’t help but chuckle at your antics and while there’s this big sister protective urge to deal with Chris, she finds it amusing. 

“This is really giving enemies to lovers, like those books you love to read.” She teases and you gasp in shock that Serena has actually listened to your ramblings about your recent reads – and horror at the suggestion. “I’m just saying!”

“Ew! No!” You shake your head, “no. This is not that! That is hot, sexy, ugh, their slow decline into falling in love while denying that it’s possible– no. He’s not even close to that!” Serena chuckles, humming like she believes you. “He’s not going to win this!”

“Sugar! This isn’t some competition that you can win?” She sounds surprised by your words even though she knows that you refuse, and always have refused, to be beaten by any man. Even after being cheated on, even after having text messages shared throughout your class, you had to come out on top out of spite. Your stubbornness is the reason why you managed to get through university and also making sure this store has been able to flourish in the way that it has.

“Sure it is,” you say as you stop moving and take a deep breath as if you’re about to step into the ring, “clearly he has his head so far up his ass that he thinks he means something. You see the way he walks in here? Like he’s some sort of king and everyone around him is his loyal servant who should drop to their knees and kiss his feet.” You scoff, snatching your apron off the hook and wrapping the strings around your waist to tie it at the back. “I’m not going to let him think that he’s getting to me. Nothing pisses men like him off more than giving back the same attitude that they give to others. He wants to play this game then it’s time to step up and play it better than he can.” You aren't someone who likes to be confrontational, a soft soul who prefers to take the gentle approach but sometimes even the soft ones are pushed to their breaking points.

Serena simply watches as you walk out the front, slightly speechless but mostly amused about the whole situation. There’s no point stopping you and honestly, it’s about time someone has caught your attention – even if it’s in the worst way because Serena has seen you look at those pictures on your phone of your ex that you haven't deleted yet.

Putting on your best smile, you greet the store, even when the man you were just talking about is standing in the store, a basket in his hand as he browses the freshly baked breads. “Good morning, welcome to ‘Everything Nice’.” You don't falter with your overly cheerful tone even if you weren't expecting to deal with him this early in the day. You had barely finished opening the store before heading into the kitchen so Chris must have been hanging around, waiting for that sign to switch from ‘closed’ to ‘open’.

Whatever, it doesn’t matter. He’s not getting another win today. Chris will not leave the store with another mark on the proverbial scoreboard against you. Today, you will claim a victory in this war even if it only adds fuel to the fire.

“You’re here early, Chris.”

Why he’s here, he doesn’t know, or that is what he keeps telling himself every single time he enters the store. Chris tells himself that he’s doing this because he needs you to curse his very name, he needs to ruin every and any chance there could be for a bond to form. He could have just left it as it was when he dropped the bomb that day but for some reason, Chris finds himself heading to ‘Everything Nice’ more than he cared to before.

You need to hate him.

He needs to make sure that you hate him.

The food is good.

You smell better than the food.

He just wants to make sure you’re doing okay…

Even though Chris tells his lies to himself and everyone around him, it boils down to the fact that he is the cause of your negative emotions and it has him wanting to make sure that you’re okay. Even when he says things that only cause the fire behind your soft eyes to burn brighter, even when he doesn’t stop himself from acting like a royal ass, Chris needs to be around you even when he’s trying to avoid you.

Unsuccessfully avoid you.

The moment that he sees you walk out in his peripheral vision, it seems like every nerve in his body becomes alive and alert which pushes his own buttons because he’s trying so fucking hard not to respond to you, and yet, his body betrays him. Hearing your voice, the way you’re feigning kindness makes the wolf smirk as he walks over and leans against the counter, meeting your glare head on. “I heard that the bread is even more delicious when freshly baked so I thought I’d grab some to take home for lunch.”

You hum, nodding your head like you care about what he has to say but he can see the temptation to roll your eyes lingering just behind those pretty eyelashes. Fuck, he shouldn’t want to count them, watch them fall softly against your cheeks as you fall asleep in his arms. With the way his thoughts are going, he has to try his best not to give in right then and there when you lean closer. “So you decided to grab it right when the bakery opened?”

Oh, he hears that tone, and hell, he shouldn’t feel proud learning that there’s a fighter underneath all those times you took his shit. He knew you had it in you and now seeing it? Makes you more attractive.

“To be one of the first customers of the day to grab fresh bread? I have a tendency to be the first in everything I do.” He says with an upward quirk of the corner of his lips, the words having a double entendre which you don’t seem to catch onto – or if you do, you don’t show it.

“Mhm, good for you, the bread is over there, Chris. Not here.” You point to the other side of the store before going to the viewing window to grab some fresh baking that Serena has put on the sill.

His jaw ticks slightly as he realises that he’s not going to get the fight that he wants from you. He expected you to get a little more worked up than this but instead, you are effectively brushing him off like an insolent child and Chris refuses to be treated like that. Even if that’s how he’s been acting. Heading over to the bread, he watches as you carefully place the fruit tarts on a tray and slides them into the chilled cabinet sitting under the counter. “What do you recommend?” You pretend not to hear him, humming softly to yourself as Chris chuckles before loudly clearing his throat and asking his question again when you look at him.

A deep sigh leaves your lips, a dramatic rise and fall of your shoulders shows that you’re not really hiding your reactions to his annoyances. You don’t move from your spot, simply looking over at him as you point in the general direction of the bread. “The bacon and cheese pull apart bread is one of our best sellers. You can warm it up and have it with some butter – it doesn’t need anything more than that.”

“What’s your favourite, sugar?”

The use of your nickname, even if he doesn’t know it is, causes you to pause and narrow your eyes ever-so-slightly. You raise an eyebrow, clearly wondering what his angle is, and Chris shrugs nonchalantly, “People tend to speak highly of the things that they like. So, sugar, what is your favourite?” He watches, examining the way that you contemplate answering truthfully before pulling your mask back down and shaking your head, “wonderful customer service.” A low blow and he knows it, he’s the one pushing, being an ass, and you’re simply trying to do her job. “First, you don’t even know my name and have been giving my order to someone else, then you ignore me unless you have to talk to me, and now,” he shakes his head, folding his arms over his chest and he swears he can feel the daggers you’re throwing at him with your eyes. “I’m simply asking a question and you aren’t going to answer it?”

He can faintly hear you grinding your teeth together from where he stands, watching as you try to control yourself but Chris can also hear your heart racing in your chest, the deep breaths that you take – all it’ll take is one more push. If he pushes a little further, he might be able to get you to snap…

“Oh, what about how you were talking shit about me, a loyal customer, while I was in the store?”

Your eyes widened and your cheeks heated up because it was obvious that you didn’t think you were so loud that Chris would have been able to overhear every single word you had said. You weren’t actually, you had managed to contain herself quite well except for that one time, but you didn’t need to know the specifics, right? It would only take away the fun of the tease if you knew that Chris is a werewolf with supernatural hearing.

Grabbing a loaf of the bacon and cheese bread, because that actually does sound pretty delicious and the smell of the bacon is making him salivate, Chris walks to the counter with the basket of food that he’s collected. “So, what do you have to say for yourself, hm?” He says in a mocking tone, sounding like a father reprimanding his child.

“What?” You ask, shocked he would talk to you like that. Your shock fades almost immediately and you scoff, folding your arms over your chest, and glare pointedly at him, “Do you want an apology or something?”

Humming, Chris smirks with a nod, “Sure, if you don’t mind, sugar~.”

Opening your mouth as if you were about to answer, Chris is left disappointed when you close it again and begin to pack up the food. “Your order won’t be ready until later today but if you would like, your friend Felix can come and collect it for you. Since I know who he is now, at least we both know it’ll reach you. Chris.” You pass over the bag and Chris takes it before you drop it, trying to avoid accidentally touching his hand at all costs.

“That won’t be necessary.” He smiles kindly, knowing it’s only going to annoy you even more, “I’ll be back at my usual time to collect.”

“Great.” You utter under your breath before finishing up with him and turning back to your work, while Chris heads to the car feeling like he had just won. Maybe it’s not a sweet victory like the previous times, this time you had given him a bit more of a push back but oh, seeing how you react when he’s close makes him feel victorious.

He should leave you alone now. He knows he should. There’s no reason for him to keep coming around now, especially since you obviously don’t want to see him. This should be it, this should be the end of it all…No, it will be. Chris nods as he sits in his car momentarily to remember your scent. He takes a moment to remember every small thing about you, even if you hate him now, he wants to remember all he can because today is the last day he steps foot into ‘Everything Nice.’

You didn’t know it was going to be the ‘last time’ that you’d see him. You couldn’t have guessed that when he came back to collect his order that final time, everything in your life was about to change. You had no idea that Chris hanging around the bakery, annoying you, and pushing your buttons was actually the main reason why you were safe but also a target for something that you could never have prepared for.

All you want is to get him in and out as quickly as you can. The moment you see the man walk through the door, you are packing up his order and placing it on the counter before he can arrive. You’re focused, refusing to acknowledge any of his little quips that are about to come but it surprises you when Chris simply hands over his card without a single word. 

No quips, no mocking, nothing at all.

“Nothing to say?” You ask, unable to help yourself from starting a fight. You usually wouldn’t, you typically prefer to keep the peace but being so close to this man makes you want to fight without any reason to pick one. Swiping the card, you input the amount and push the machine towards Chris but instead of responding, he shrugs his shoulders without even glancing at you. You take the moment of silence to look him over, noticing that his posture is stiff, uncomfortable and there’s a tick in his jaw that is ridiculously too attractive for a man with his attitude. Everything about him right now is the opposite of the man who acted like he owned the place. He looks like he can’t wait to get out of there just as quickly as you want him gone.

But, that’s the problem.

You want him gone. You want him out and now that it looks like he does too, you want him to pick a fight. Nobody has gotten such a reaction from you since university, since your ex and you swore you wouldn’t resort to that type of low again…

“Are you really not going to say anything?” You pushed, your brow furrowed slightly in both annoyance and confusion. Chris spares you a look before letting out a breath that sounds like he’s been holding it the whole time; grabbing his order, he pauses for a moment like he’s about to say something but decided against it. He turns his broad back on you so he can leave and you scoff, shaking your head, hell no, you’re not letting him just walk away like this!

You move quickly from behind the counter, grabbing him by the bicep before he makes it to the door. “Let go.” Chris pulls his arm back with enough force to loosen your hold and goes for the exit before you can chase after him – it doesn’t mean you don't though.

Chris has barely made it a few metres from the store, clearly trying to get away as fast as he can before he halts due to you calling out his name. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t look over his shoulder. No, he simply stands in the street with his back to you while you speak. “After everything this morning, after everything these last few weeks, you’re really going to just… give up?” You sound so desperate, a whine to your voice that almost sounds pained and you can’t understand why. This is what you’ve been wanting ever since he started to act like a right ass but you can’t just let this go, not when it started out of nowhere and seems to have ended just as abruptly.

You need something more. An explanation. A reason.

Somewhere along the way, even though you refuse to voice it, you started to look forward to fighting with Chris. A sick little game being played that made you so mad but when life follows the same script every day – even a negative change can help you feel alive. Sure, he pisses you off and you’ll say you hate him but your life has been so quiet lately, mundane, following the same routine over and over again, and the fighting seemed to give you something that was different from your norm. Somewhere along the way, you had started to rely on the rush that you got every time you fought, just to feel something more than boredom.

God, you sound like you need to go to therapy.

While you and Chris are standing there, neither of you speaking, simply remaining in place, neither notices that you are being watched. You never expected to be watched so you wouldn’t have been keeping an eye out for it but Chris should have been aware of the attention that he was bringing you. Himself. Neither of you notice that there’s a small group hiding just out of plain sight and watching the way the Alpha is frozen, clearly struggling to leave his mate behind. You’re so unaware of the connection between you but yet, you can’t let him go.

A smirk spreads across a wolf’s lips, a snicker coming from the man next to him while the other blows out a lung full of smoke and tosses his cigarette onto the ground while scowling at the scene. “Are you sure?” He asks, his voice rough and gravely.

Minho nods, keeping quiet for a moment longer until Chris begins to walk away and you stand there, watching a little while longer before giving up and heading back inside, shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m positive. I didn’t know it when I met her at the club that night. Funnily enough, I thought she was Felix’s mate with the way that beta was always going to the bakery but it seems the Alpha was having his second in command act as a delivery boy.” The man moves out from the hiding spot that gives them the perfect view of the bakery, “Chris has been going there a lot more than he needs to. Knowing him, he’s reasoning with himself as to why he needs to be around her but clearly, he’s pushing her away.” The scene they just saw shows that Chris isn’t being overly accepting to his mate – which is what they had expected.

“As expected,” another rouge beta, Seungmin, says as he watches Chris’ car pull into traffic and head in the direction of the pack house. “He’s predictable, he always has been.” Seungmin had followed Minho out of the pack that day because while believed in Chris as an Alpha, he knew that the wolf’s stubbornness and refusal to change was going to be his downfall – and the pack’s.

The wolf that was smoking, a beta from another pack and one Chris had personal issues with for many different reasons, walks out from the shadows to stand beside Minho. He hums in thought, looking at the bakery while scratching his chin. A scar runs from his upper lip down the side of his face, his calloused hand running over it as he scratches. “Has he responded to the challenge?”

Minho snorts, “only to tell me to go and fuck myself.”

“He’s fucking insufferable,” the wolf growls, rolling his dark eyes. “When are the packs meeting again about the hunters? Tomorrow, right?” Minho nods, “Go to it and tell Chris he has until the next full moon. He either takes his mate or he takes the challenge.”

Seungmin counts the days in his head, tilting it as he looks at the older wolves, “why are we giving him a month to decide?” One look from Minho silences him but it doesn’t stop him from rolling his eyes in annoyance. He doesn’t understand why they are dragging this out when they could walk up to the pack house’s front door and challenge him now.

“All in good time,” the eldest speaks, giving a cruel smile and showing his fangs as he looks at you as you come out to check on the front of the store. “Everything will be revealed soon.”

You want to say that after a few weeks without seeing Chris your disdain and dislike for him has started to simmer down and that you have started to forget about the arrogant son-of-a-bitch but no. How can it settle when you have to see Felix and be reminded about the way Chris embarrassed you and then continued to poke fun at such an easy mistake? It wouldn’t have been so bad if it had been a little teasing, a little prod, and a giggle when he had realised your mistake but instead, for an entire month, he allowed you to believe the sweet, freckled ray of sunshine was someone else and from the way that Felix looked uncomfortable that day, made him go along with it too.

That made it so much worse.

“Ah,” you rub your hand over your face in frustration as you sit down on your bed. You need to stop thinking about him, you want to stop but it seems that he’s gotten under your skin so bad that you’ve begun to obsess about him.

You look at the time and notice that you have about an hour before it’s time to think about dinner so you decide that you’ll go for a walk to clear your head. It’s been something that you’ve picked up since moving to this town because with all your friends living in the city and your life there being only accessible during the weekends, you have nothing better to do.

Well, you could read your books but that’s not fun when all you’re thinking about is him.

The town is pretty enough, the beach not that far from where you live, which means on nice evenings, you take your walk down there to enjoy the pretty golden sunsets before heading back home. It’s been getting better and even prettier to see as the days warm up and the spring slowly moves towards the summer.

So, with a gentle push up, you start to change into the cute lilac purple activewear that you’ve been wearing lately as it gives you enough mobility to run when you want to but also isn’t super heavy where you’re sweating too much. “Where are you going?” Serena asks, poking her head into your room when she hears all the movements. “Are you heading down to the beach?” You hum, stretching a little before heading towards her, “What time will you be back?”

Raising an eyebrow, you look at her suspiciously, “Why?” You ask, narrowing your eyes. You have an inkling that Serena has been going on dates and not telling you about it because she’s been a little bit secretive lately but you haven't asked. You may be close but you do like to keep certain things to yourselves and Serena’s dating life is one of the topics that are usually locked up in a vault.

“No reason,” she shrugs before making her way towards the kitchen where she already has dinner cooking, “I can leave yours in the oven if you’re not back in time.”

Simply humming in response, you give her a kiss on the cheek, “thank you”, before going to put your running shoes on and heading out the door. It takes you until you reach the bottom of the stairs to realise you’ve forgotten your headphones. “Oh-” you rush back to your room with Serena yelling after you about your shoes. “I’m just grabbing my headphones!” You shout back before running out on your tiptoes to try and minimise the amount of shoe touching the clean floor. “I’ll clean the floor tomorrow!”

With your playlist designed to get you energised blasting your favourite songs through your eardrums, you walk with purpose down the road, dancing to the choreography that you know and lip-syncing like you’re giving the world a concert. You love it when it’s like this, where you couldn’t care less about who is around you, like the world is yours to own and you don't need to be overly aware of what’s around you.

You love it but it does tend to make you blind to what’s coming.

Nothing could touch you when you’re walking like you have all the confidence in the world and it’s amusing to watch really, how there’s a little bounce in your steps, a word or two accidentally being sung with you realising too late and you go back to mouthing the lyrics with a passion. You do miss being in the studio, dancing your heart out, and performing on weekends but you haven't been able to find a space to facilitate that in town.

“Adorable.” Minho chuckles as he shoves his hands into his pockets and glances around before slipping off the path and making a shortcut through the trees so that he can get to the beach before you.

You’re unaware, oblivious to what dangers Chris has brought into your life and even if you were told, you wouldn’t really believe him anyway, especially not after everything. Maybe not ever unless you see it with your eyes.

Even then…

The beach starts to open up before you, the reeds and dunes making way for the large expanse of the clear blue sea and white sand. You take a deep breath and inhale the salty scent of the water that has become one of your favourite smells because it is so far removed from the smell of the city that you feel so revitalised and calm. Sure, you miss the city, the life and luxuries that you had there but there’s something about it here that feels so right and you love it. “Amazing,” you say to yourself before going to one of the large, sun-bleached tree trunks that have become popular seats for people who simply want to watch the rolling waves.

Taking your headphones out and placing them back into their case, you turn on the trunk and lie down with your eyes closed, listening to the sounds of pure peace around you. There are no families on the beach today, no sounds of children laughing or people shouting at their young ones to be careful while playing in the water – just the sounds of crashing waves and seagulls.

“Roman!” Your brows wrinkle when a man’s voice ruins your peace, “bad dog! Come back here!”

Your leg had been hanging over the side of the trunk and clearly, this man’s dog has decided that it needs to investigate who you are, sniffing the bare skin of your calf and causing you to sit up with a slight giggle. You're ticklish.

“Roman,” the name is said with a slight growl to his tone that has both the big, golden, shaggy dog and you looking at him, “get here!” He points at his side and the dog walks towards him with his tail in between his legs, making you pout softly.

Pushing off the seat, you smile kindly at the man who is looking sternly at his dog, “Hey, he’s okay. He’s just a curious boy trying to make a new friend.” You crouch down by the dog and hold out your hand, allowing him to come to you for a nice scratch behind the ears. “See,” your voice raises an octave, “you’re a good boy.”

When the owner gets close enough to pull the dog’s attention away from you, leashing Roman to keep him from running off again, you smile before something clicks in your brain. You’ve seen this man before, you’re certain of it, you can’t quite pinpoint it and it’s a little annoying but from the bells in your head and the smirk he wears – you know you’ve crossed paths before.

How come you can’t pinpoint it right away?

“He likes you,” the man says, catching your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts. “He’s not usually so friendly with new people.”

Chuckling softly, you smile sweetly, “You and me both, Roman.” Which is… not entirely true. You’re pretty friendly to everyone, that's the reason why your nickname is Sugar but you’ve always been a little hesitant to be fully open with people – especially after what happened.

Thanks to…

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” The man blatantly lies – not that you know that. “Do you come to the beach often?”

You’re a little cautious with sharing your comings and goings with a complete stranger so you just hum, giving him a tight smile, “now and again. It’s been nice lately so I couldn’t miss out on seeing it.” As you talk, a chill runs up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck stands up, usually a warning that you need to leave even if there aren't any obvious dangers.

There’s something about this guy that has you feeling slightly on edge and you can’t figure out why. You’re pretty intuitive and prides yourself on it most of the time, usually able to spot a problematic person from a mile away but lately, it’s been acting up so you don’t know if there’s really a reason – or if it’s just because you are alone and there’s nobody around.

As if Serena knows that you may need saving, your phone starts to ring and stops the conversation from going further. “Oh, I’m sorry. I have to take this.” The man backs away as you answer the phone, using the call as a good excuse to walk away while speaking, only looking back to smile and wave. “You have no idea how glad I am you are calling,” you say when you think that you’re out of earshot, glancing over your shoulder and moving quickly when you catch him still standing there and watching you leave. “No, no, I’m okay…” You’re not sure if you fully believe it since your blood is pumping through your veins and adrenaline is kicking in to move your feet faster back towards the safety of your home.

Serena stays on the phone the whole time until you walk in the door, “What is his name and what does he look like? I’m going to call the police.” You jump, caught off guard by her voice being louder than it was on the phone and also by how quick she is to involve the authorities.

“Oh my God, you don’t need to call the cops, Spice. He was harmless! It was just…” You sit down to get rid of your shoes, tossing them in front of you. “I don’t know. It was just weird.”

This causes the woman to go into a full rant about how men who are weird don’t just stare at people walking away from them, that’s what stalkers do and for all you know, he could have been following you for days until you were alone. Neither of you are aware of how right Serena is – or how close to it she’s actually getting with her accusations – because he has been studying your every move and now that Chris isn’t around to keep Minho away, he’s going to come back.

In a different way, he realised this when he watched you practically run away from him at the beach. Approaching you alone isn’t going to gain your trust like he wants, he wants you to feel comfortable enough to talk to him and the best way to do that is through the same method Chris used.

The bakery.

A game is about to be played, a game you aren't aware you’re going to be playing until it’s too late, and even if you somehow managed to figure it all out before their hand is shown, you’ll still be playing regardless.

You are the key piece.

You’re the piece that both sides need but only one can have.

You are either going to be Chris’ downfall or his salvation and since he’s taken himself out of the game, or thinks he has, you are now free for the opposition to claim.

To use.

Chris leans back in his seat, straightening out the newspaper in his hands as he sips his morning black coffee. A sigh passes through his lips when he hears someone running into his house, “The rogues are here.” One of the betas says as they enter the dining room, bringing in mud from the outside on their shoes since they had been in too much of a rush to take them off. “There’s… Alpha Chris, there’s more of them than last time.”

This isn’t news to Chris or any of the other Alphas. Lately, the rogues have been teaming up. Nothing that could be considered a pack, or even compared to one, but definitely more than what they usually do. Minho and Seungmin have been collecting strays and bringing them around more and more, every time challenging Chris and posing empty threats.

Little does he know, soon, they won’t be so empty.

“Alpha?”

Chris hums, still looking at the newspaper and reading about an accident last night, “What?”

“Did you not hear what I said?”

Clicking his tongue, the wolf closes the newspaper and looks over at his beta, lips in a hard line. The younger wolf clearly recognises his expression as that of annoyance and from the bags under his eyes, exhaustion, since the rogues have been coming and going constantly. “I did.” He pushes away from the table and stands up, stretching with a groan and a couple of cracks since the morning is still too early for his body to want to be awake. “I’ve heard this far too often because it seems that these rogues don’t know when they’ve overstayed their welcome.”

He’s tolerated them for a while now, mostly due to him still missing two of his betas, but they are progressively getting more and more on his nerves. Especially when they’ve been trying to rally support from the other packs to try and use it as some kind of legitimacy to their challenge.

While there are some of the other Alphas who agree that Chris needs to take on a mate or accept the challenge, they all agree that it is ultimately up to Chris on the direction that he and his pack are going to take. “Though, if the next meeting comes around and you haven’t figured it out, we will make the choice for you.” Chris scoffs as he remembers one of the elder Alpha’s words. So much for agreeing it was his choice. Usually, they don’t like getting involved in how other packs are run but they will take action if they have to especially if there is cause for concern – apparently, rogues working together is enough of a reason for them to start getting nervous and poke their noses into Chris’ business.

As the Alpha walks outside, Minho at the head of the group of rogues who are all standing behind him, Chris notices something that does not match the scene. “I brought you something,” Minho smirks as he holds out the box of cupcakes that Chris knows far too well, the sweet smell causing his nose to twitch in response as if he’s trying to pick out your scent amongst the strong scent of strawberry icing.

Fuck, he’s missed that smell.

There’s a deep growl emitting from Chris’ chest, so deep, so guttural that everyone except Minho stumbles back a step as he stalks forward – though, he can tell by the shift in Minho’s scent that the younger is still smart enough to be intimidated by the Alpha.

However, clearly not smart enough to not taunt him.

“Why do you have those?” Chris growls, careful not to knock Serena’s hard work out of his hands and waste them.

Minho shrugs, opening the box and taking a cupcake out, taking his time to eat it in front of him. Chris could rip his throat out right then and there and he knows that, but with the audience that they now have, the older wouldn’t let his anger get in the way of his pride. “She’s cute, you know.” Minho says thoughtfully as he chews, “She thinks you’re a right fucking asshole and well, it makes her smart too, I guess.”

Chris grits his teeth, his eyes flashing gold as he holds onto his anger tightly but not enough that it doesn’t show through in minute ways. “What. Have. You. Done?” He enunciates the words through a tightly clenched jaw while Minho leisurely eats another cupcake.

From what Chris recalls, nothing has been going on in the little bakery, everything has been going just fine and there hasn’t been any unusual visitors coming and going but it seems that Minho has been able to be around you without Chris’ surveillance picking up on it. Yes, he is fully aware that he refused to go back to the bakery again but he didn’t ever say anything about making sure that you were left alone regardless of you knowing or not – you’re still his mate. He may not want to claim you but he won’t reject you either because… he simply doesn’t want to.

He refuses to explain further to anyone even himself, while it may not even work due to you being a human, he refuses to reject you because there’s a small, teeny tiny part of him that wants to be able to accept you. He wants you, every fibre in his body screams for you when he sees you from afar, his wolf growls darkly in the back of his head when he hears your name on someone else’s lips, and when he catches a whiff of your scent in any store he happens to walk into – fuck, he nearly goes out to search for you.

The longer he keeps himself away, the harder it is to resist you and that’s why he cannot be around you, as twisted as his logic seems to be.

The moment his hands are on you – you’re not leaving him ever again and that’s the excuse he’ll use as to why he cannot be near you. He cannot lock you into a life that he knows will only destroy everything that you have because what nobody seems to understand is that Chris won’t simply protect his mate – he will bring the world to its knees for you. This life isn’t as magical as books might make it seem, it’s surrounded by darkness and the last thing Chris would ever do is taint the light that he can feel residing within you with everything that goes bump in the night. He’d destroy it and himself to keep you safe.

Chris has known this ever since his first girlfriend, ever since he first fell in love, he would destroy anyone who dared to hurt her. His father had to tear a teenage Chris off a packmate when they had the audacity to scare his girlfriend at the time and thus began Chris needing to learn how to control himself better. He had to learn how to manage his anger, how to deal with his wolf’s more aggressive nature because training to be an Alpha is a hard journey and if he couldn’t contain his most primal behaviours as a teenager – he’d steer the pack into a dangerous future when he took over.

So, he did his best. While he’s not perfect, not by a long shot, he has a bad temper most of the time and he will absolutely throw the first punch – Chris tries his best to keep himself in check so he wouldn’t take the pack down the road that his parents feared he would.

Is it hard? Hell yes, but Chris is determined.

When Minho lost his mate, the reaction that he had, both confirmed and solidified the reason why Chris couldn’t accept his mate when he found them. If he would cave in the skull of a packmate for simply scaring his girlfriend when he was 16, what would he do to those who killed his mate? What lengths would he go to to avenge his fallen lover?

Would he be able to stop even after the war had been won?

No. He knows he wouldn’t be stopped unless he was killed and considering he’s a fucking good Alpha – he refuses to leave the pack without one… even if it means holding off giving the pack an heir.

“Minho.” Chris growls, getting in the other’s face when he doesn’t answer, “the fuck did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” the younger smiles, not averting his eyes from Chris’ as if he is challenging the Alpha. He’s not. Yet, at least. “You’ve left her unattended except for when your second goes and picks up the order you always keep. I was curious to know why you were so attached to that bakery and then I discovered a sweet little lamb called Sugar~.” He gives a wolfish grin, tilting his head. “It wasn’t exactly hard to figure everything out after that.”

Minho has known for a while but Chris doesn’t need to know that otherwise, it would throw off their entire plan. Sure, part of the plan isn’t to turn the entire pack against their Alpha but with the way that the pack is, he isn’t surprised that some of the wolves that have gathered around are intrigued by what he’s saying.

“Does she know?” Minho asks, a twinkle in his eyes showing that he’s loving this, the struggle of Chris keeping himself together. “Does she know what you are and what she is to you?” He can feel the rage rolling off Chris in waves, so strong that some of the wolves around him are responding, either by moving away from their Alpha or growling at those who are the cause of the problem. Looking around at the confused and curious wolves, Minho moves closer to Chris, closing any distance that they had between them, and bares his teeth. “Do they know that you’ve been hiding her?”

There’s silence, the sound of Chris’ heavy breathing is all that can really be heard as he tries his best not to tear his former friend’s throat out.

“When?” Chris grits the word out through tightly clenched teeth. “When the fuck do you want to do this?”

Pretending to think about it, Minho strokes his chin, humming for a moment before simply saying, “Next full moon. One month.”

Nodding once, Chris accepts. “You’ll stay away from her.”

Minho indicates for the other rogues to leave using a simple head gesture that causes them all to push past the pack that has surrounded them. They are greatly outnumbered but they weren’t here for a fight so it doesn’t really bother them if the others were trying to intimidate them by boxing them in, none of them have the same fire that Chris has. “No guarantees.” Minho says confidently, turning his back on Chris to leave with the others.

Chris watches, shoulder rising and falling with his shallow inhales, staring daggers into the back of Minho’s head until his view is blocked by Felix. He knows that everyone is going to want answers, answers that he’s not ready to give, not right now.

Was this part of Minho’s plan? What the fuck is his plan considering the other must know that he would not be able to win in a fight against Chris? No matter how strong Minho is, Chris has always been stronger and on a full moon – even greater so.

“Chris,” Felix pulls his attention away from the retreating rogues and back to his pack who are all waiting for answers.

“No.”

Felix grabs his arm to keep him from leaving and the younger nearly gets his hand broken for such an insolent action. “You can’t just leave after what just happened.” The others all mumble in agreement and Chris can feel a headache forming, “I had my suspicions but… you said she meant nothing.”

“You found your mate and didn’t tell us?” One of the other betas, Jaehyun, steps forward, looking pissed. “Seriously, Chris?” One warning growl from the Alpha has everyone stopping what they are saying or about to say but it doesn’t stop them from looking to him for an explanation, wanting to know he’s refused to take his mate when he’s found you.

“I did it for a good reason.” He says definitively, pushing past everyone even though he can still hear them muttering their disapproval of his actions and their disappointment in their Alpha.

Was this the whole reason Minho came here? There’s something sinister about what they have planned because Minho is one of the only people who knows why Chris won’t take a mate and yet, he’s pushing it. He’s even willing to turn the Alpha’s pack against him to force Chris into doing what he wants. Is that why he challenged Chris? Thinking that the older wouldn’t take the challenge in fear of losing everything?

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs as he walks back into the house and heads straight to his room to lie down and rest. There are far more questions than answers and with all the noise that’s going on and the minds he now needs to ease and explanations he has to give, Chris needs to rest before his head fucking explodes from all the tension that’s building.

He’s going to kill him, he thinks as his head hits the pillow, what for? Chris doesn’t know which reason he’ll use but he knows that if Minho continues down this dangerous path, one filled with mystery and games, Chris will have no choice but to kill him.

Even if he doesn’t want to.

He refuses to let a rogue best him, no matter whom it is and what they had meant to him once upon a time.

You hear the doorbell chime and look up with your signature smile, laughing softly at the man who is walking into the store holding an iced coffee, smothered with whipped cream, just how you like it. “You are a quick study,” you basically skip out from behind the counter to meet him. “I’ve been dying all morning since I haven’t been able to have my sweet, sweet caffeine.”

Minho laughs, shaking his head at the way you nearly down the entire cup while you walk back to the other side, leaning against the counter and folding his arms over his chest. “You know, with the amount of coffee you drink a day, I’m surprised you aren’t breaking the sound barrier when you walk.” His teasing tone has you laughing loudly with him and pushing his arm before you sip it slower. “How has today been?”

You get to chatting about the day and how slow it’s been, only leaving his side whenever someone comes in to buy some food but he doesn’t mind, you’ve learned that he seems to enjoy the way you’ll smile at customers and get them to buy a little treat for themselves even if it is at a discounted price so that they can avoid having any wastage at the end of the day.

Minho, while strange at first with his habit of coming to the beach at the same time you did, has quickly become one of, if not your only, friends in this small town. He’s shown you some of the best places to get coffee and delivers it to you on days when you seem too tired to function, he’ll drag you out of the house and take you to quiz nights which you’ve learnt he sucks at but still goes every time, and he never makes you feel like utter shit whenever he teases you. There’s always a lightheartedness to his teasing, nothing that degrades your intelligence or pokes fun at you for not having picked up on something, he teases you about how sometimes you wear odd socks or that you drink the milkiest, sweetest coffees to stay alive.

In a few short weeks, Minho went from being a stranger on the beach to being a good friend who you actually enjoyed being around. You don’t know anything about his intentions, he’s never given you a reason to question his motives for befriending you, and there’s no suspicion about him hiding something from you. All you know is that he’s funny, he listens and he takes the time to bring you coffee and talk about the day.

“You want to come to a party this weekend?” Minho asks after you serve a customer, still smiling as you look over at him, “A friend of mine is having a house party and I thought you might want to go. You said you’ve never been to one before, right?”

This is true, sort of. There was a difference between what you’d seen being thrown at houses in places with the space and getting drunk at a friend’s place before going to the clubs. “When?” You purse your lips, pretending to think about it even though you both know that you’ll say yes because you’ve never been one to turn down an invitation to a party.

“Saturday.”

“Will it be big?”

Thinking about it for a moment, Minho tries to figure out whether he should share exactly who the person hosting the party is but then again, if you know then you might decline. “Yeah, it’s a massive house just out of town, no noise control and you know small towns – everyone shows up eventually.”

You grin, excited, you’ve seen those types of parties in the movies, the rich kids that throw lake parties when their parents are out of town and you can’t help but vibrate with excitement at the thought of doing something like that. Oh, it’s definitely going to be different from what you’ve done before. The reason why they never really did that in the city, choosing to pre-game at home and then going to the clubs is because eventually, noise control turns up and ruins all of the fun. “I’m in!” You bounce on your feet before looking over at the kitchen, “Is it okay if I ask Serena if she wants to come?”

He’s not going to tell her no, Minho knows better than to try and get in between the bond that the sisters have but he knows that the best way for this plan to work is to have you alone rather than under the protective older sister’s watch. She reigns you in, he’s realised, she makes sure that you are being responsible when you want to let loose, he can see it, hiding beneath the surface and all you need is one night – this night in particular – to be free.

It all rests on you letting loose and throwing caution to the wind.

Walking into the kitchen, you see Serena kneading dough with her sleeves rolled up, apron covered in flour, and stand beside her with a childish grin that can only ever be used on a parent or sibling. “Yes?” Serena asks, not even looking at her sister and you lean a little closer, moving into her personal space, “What do you want?”

“Party on Saturday?” You wiggles your eyebrows and leans away when Serena turns to look at you, “Minho said it’s at his friend’s place and that it’s going to be big!”

“If Minho is spending so much time here gossiping, maybe he should grab an apron and help.” She says shortly before huffing out a breath and taking a moment to think about it. She’s looking at you in a way that almost feels like she’s scrutinising you but doesn’t say anything about her younger sister’s new best friend. It’s obvious that she’s worried, of course, she’s happy that you have friends but she’s been suspicious of Minho ever since he started coming around. Maybe she wants to look out for you so you don’t get into a relationship with someone who seems like he’d rather play the field but there’s never been anything romantic with Minho – not that you’ve noticed. “I have plans,” she says finally, your brow furrowing because this is news to you.

“Plans?” You begin to question but Minho’s voice calling from the front has you remembering that you have a job to do. “This is not over~.” You say with a wink before rushing towards the door, greeting the customer walking in.

“So,” Minho leans close, your eyes quickly shifting to his side profile before looking at the customer walking around, “what did she say?”

“She has plans,” you say with a slightly sarcastic tone, a little disgruntled about the fact that your sister hasn’t been as forthcoming with her private life as you have been. “It’ll be just me.” You push away the attitude that’s brewing, choosing to focus on the party and getting excited about it instead.

Knocking on the counter twice with a grin on his face, Minho moves away, “Great, I’ll pick you up out front around 9ish, okay? Don’t overdress, city girl!” You laugh loudly, shaking your head at him before he waves and heads out, “See you then, Sugar~.” You wave back, telling him goodbye before turning to the customer approaching the counter, and giving them a warm smile. It’s easier to smile when you have something to be excited about. 

The music from the party is so loud, it can be heard down the road even without werewolf hearing and it only grows louder and more intense the closer he gets to the house, making Chris want to turn around and head back home. He couldn’t though, he had heard that the rogues had decided to rent out this house which meant they had been staying on his territory without his permission. The Alpha isn’t going to cause a scene, he knows better than to do that of course but he isn’t going to let them throw a massive party and expect him to not turn up and make sure shit doesn’t go down.

Little does he know, Minho and the others actually expected him to turn up. The need for control is something that makes Chris predictable and with the challenge coming up and him still not taking you as his mate, they decided to lay a trap that the Alpha wouldn’t be able to run away from.

What’s a better way to mess with an Alpha than to dangle his mate like bait?

“Oh, look who arrived,” Seungmin walks over to Chris when he walks through the front door, immediately noticing several members of his pack are here as well as other wolves from surrounding packs. “I don’t think you were formally invited, Chris, but yet, here you are.”

Glaring at the young wolf, he wonders if he should have come at all. “This is happening on my territory, Seungmin. You and Minho should both have known I would turn up regardless.” Chris’ name is called from somewhere amongst the crowd and it doesn’t take him long to find the wolf trying to get his attention. One of his betas has noticed the presence of their Alpha and is waving at him, Chris smiles politely and gives a short wave back before turning back to look at Seungmin. “What do you think you guys are doing?”

“Well, we couldn’t exactly just leave with the full moon coming up and the challenge so we thought it might be easier to stay close, stay nearby so that if you happened to change your mind, you’d be able to find us.” Chris scoffs, finding their reasoning to be a bunch of bullshit but he couldn’t care to argue or fight with the amount of people slowly filling up the rooms. Clearly, they’ve managed to get the word around pretty quickly to have this many people turn up already. “If you do decide to stay, have a drink. Loosen up. You want to blend in and keep an eye on everyone then stop looking like the disapproving father and look like every guy your age.” Shoving a beer into his hand, Seungmin walks off, not waiting to listen to the Alpha’s retort.

Chris’ jaw tenses, grinding his teeth as he sniffs the beer and places it down before heading over to the kitchen and helping himself to the fridge. It will be harder to get any form of information if he’s looking extremely pissed off in a room filled with humans and wolves having fun and mingling but he’s unimpressed by their antics so it’ll take a while for him to settle. He chooses to do that in a corner that is far enough away from everyone so they won’t be able to bother him and he can observe before trying to blend in.

He’s the only Alpha and while the humans won’t know who he is, the wolves will so he needs to make everyone less on edge to get what he wants.

He sits there, a few beers into his night and he notices that the place has filled up more than it was an hour or so ago. Did the town really have this many people or have they been bringing people from surrounding towns to come and party with them? Shaking his head, Chris finishes his beer and decides that he needs something stronger to get him into a more social mood; he makes his way over to the kitchen only to be intercepted by Minho.

Where the hell did he come from?

“Where have you been hiding?” Minho laughs, the glazed over look in his eyes and the stench of alcohol on his breath shows he’s had a few drinks so maybe he’s been here for a while. “You’ve been drinking the weak shit if you aren’t out on the dance floor already.”

Raising an eyebrow, Chris is curious at how the other wolf is drunk considering alcohol takes a longer time to have an effect on their bodies. “You’re drunk?���

“Tipsy,” Minho corrects with a grin before slapping a hand onto Chris’ shoulder, causing the older to look at the limb and wonder if he’s planning something. “Oh, come off it man, you are so suspicious. Let loose. This is your fucking problem.” He leads them towards the kitchen and goes for one of the bottles that are sitting on the table, pouring another drink for himself and taking a swig before pouring Chris a drink. “You are so uptight.” Minho continues to drink before Chris slowly brings the plastic cup to his lips and tastes the sweet alcohol, nose wrinkling but he continues to down the whole cup. As if seeing the sight is something that is worthy of a cheer, Minho claps and snatches the empty cup from Chris before shoving his own into the elder's hand. “Help yourself next time~ there’s plenty to go around and for fuck sake, enjoy the party, man.” As Chris sips on the new drink, Minho decides that he’s bored and it’s time to go and mingle, walking out of the room with a wave of his hand and some parting words, “Enjoy your surprise.”

Chris’ brow furrows as he tries to figure out what Minho means by that, the hair on the back of his neck standing on edge as if he’s in danger but his thoughts are interrupted by the hooting and cheering coming from the other room. Finishing his drink and crushing the cup in his hand, Chris discards the crumpled plastic in the nearest bin as he goes to investigate the commotion. What has everyone whistling so loud that anyone can hear it over the bass blasting through the speakers?

He stops dead in his tracks as he enters the room, everything in his body suddenly on high alert as soon as he finds the reason. Standing at the other end of the room with the DJ’s hands on her waist, pouring vodka into his mouth, is the last person that Chris thought he would have to see again.

A person he told himself he didn’t want to see again. A person that he needed to see again – though, not like this.

Everything moves in slow motion. The hands in the air, fists pumping, waving, the sounds of the cheers as you kiss the DJ afterward, the way the DJ’s hands move to your ass and grabs so greedily. Everything moves in slow motion but Chris’ heart races in his chest at the show of his mate letting another fucking man shove his tongue down your throat.

His nostrils flare, his fists tighten and the muscle in his jaw clenches as you pull away, laughing and shouting with the crowd.

The music gets louder, pumping with the alcohol running through everyone’s veins and the Alpha parts the bodies that separate him from his mate. He only sees you, jumping and dancing with someone else now, he doesn’t notice the eyes that are on him as they nudge each other and watch the wolf stalk toward you.

Chris is blind to the dangers around him because all he can think about now is removing the scent of the DJ from your body.

You don’t even notice Chris making his way towards you, you’re having way too much fun and feeling so good. Minho had promised a good night where you could let loose, where you could do all the things that you wanted to do without needing to be good and behave with your sister around. A night where it’s all about feeling alive! You know that there’s no way that Serena would have let you do that with the DJ in front of the room – Minho did though, in fact, he encouraged it.

You close your eyes, swaying with the bass as you stand in front of the speakers and wow, you feel like you’re flying. The vibrations from the bass has your heart racing on a different level and with the amount of alcohol you’ve had tonight, you feel like you could take on the world and win. Confidence and no care was a dangerous mix when living life in a way that you’ve never really been able to before.

Nothing can ruin your night.

Nothing can ruin your vibe.

Nothing in this world can ruin your fun.

Well, maybe except for him.

You feel the warmth against your back, electricity rushing through you as you lean into the solid body behind you. There’s a familiar feeling in the way this feels, a sense of deja vu but you don’t think about it, why would you? You don’t want to think about anything except the way the song’s making you feel. You lift your hands up and as if the man behind you know what you’re wanting, he allows you to wrap them around his neck, guiding him to the curve of your neck while his hands slowly creep around your waist.

There’s a possessiveness in the way he holds you, in the way that he tries to encompass your body and it sends a sweet shiver up your spine as he moves with you to the music. You don’t quite know it but he radiates it and anyone who dares to look at you with the slightest bit of interest suddenly looks away due to the look in his eyes before burying his nose into your neck.

Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck and smiles at the response that he gives against your skin. The softest lips place wet kisses along your pulse, reminding you of a dream you had once. The mystery man from the club that has been plaguing your dreams is slowly being replaced by this stranger who isn’t as gentle in his touch but creates the same heat in your core as his teeth graze that sweet spot just behind your ear.

“Are you having fun?” A deep voice growls into your ear as he nips on your earlobe and while your insides melt, your brow furrows for a moment because you’re sure that you know that voice. A voice you’ve thought about more than you like to admit but haven’t heard in a while.

No, it can’t be him.

A soft hum vibrates at the back of your throat, nodding your head as you turn her cheek in the direction of his lips, body pressing against him so that your swaying is rubbing against his crotch. “I’m having a lot of fun.” You smile, trying to turn in his hold so that you can feel more than his teeth nipping your jawline but he keeps you from doing so, from seeing him, and your soft red lips pull into a small pout.

“Tell me, do you like to kiss every man you see?” He dips his head back into your neck, inhaling deeply.

You giggle and shake your head, causing him to lift his own slightly. “No, only the hot ones~,” you say playfully.

With a hand slowly ghosting over your body, grabbing your chin so gently but securely in between his thumb and index fingers, he speaks lowly into your ear. “Close your eyes.” It’s almost like he’s testing you, seeing if you’ll kiss him without knowing what he looks like or maybe it’s because Chris knows that the moment you know it’s him – you wouldn’t dare.

“Hm, that’s not fair,” your lips twitch at the corners, deciding to play along with his game. “How about you tell me your name first?”

Tilting your chin towards him, just enough that you can see the lower half of his face, you see the way those plump lips smirk before he speaks. “You know my name, sugar.” And with those five words, you’re hit with a wave of emotions that all conflict with each other.

Part of you is happy, excited almost, to see Chris again, fuck, you didn’t think that you would ever feel that way about him considering everything but you do. Another part of you is pissed off that he toyed with you like this as if he hasn’t been the biggest asshole, or a close second, that you’ve ever met. You don’t want to move away from him, enjoying the way that your body seems to fit with his, loving the way that his hands are holding you like you belong to him. Yet, you want to push him away, remove the feeling of him with force if you have to.

You both want to slap him for taking you for a fool and kiss him because you want to know if his lips are as soft as they felt against your neck.

“Fuck you,” you push him away, storming off through the crowd but Chris isn’t too far behind you, not wanting to give you up even though he had fought against his bond with you for weeks, if not, months.

Chris manages to catch you in the kitchen, grabbing your wrists when you reach for another drink, and without even thinking, you slap him. It’s loud, louder than the music that has followed you into the next but if anyone heard it, they didn’t give any indication that they had. You both stare at each other for a moment, both lust and anger coursing through your bodies as your eyes lock, his chest rising and falling in rapid success as he stares down at you, the redness on his cheek standing out against his fair complexion.

“I–” You’re about to apologise, you don’t know why you were going to but it just feels appropriate to say sorry for causing a handprint on his face. You never managed to finish the sentence though because Chris pulls you closer and helps break the tension between them. Kissing you roughly in a way that has you losing your breath. Your hands lift to rest against his chest and Chris pulls away, thinking he messed up but you simply fist his shirt in your hands and pull him closer, making him kiss you again while backing you towards the bench.

You shouldn’t be doing this, not here, not where anyone could walk in and see you having a heated make-out session with a man you swore as your enemy but the moment his lips met yours – you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anyone seeing you or anyone having a problem with it because this is exactly the type of letting loose you feel like you need.

His tongue slips inside your mouth, coaxing yours to dance with his and his hands move down to your ass, squeezing and pulling you so close that you could almost become one person. You feel his muscles over his Nirvana shirt as your hands move down his chest and over his abdomen, firm and hard, something that you had guessed once by looking at him but feeling it? A rush runs through your body that seems to set fire to your core.

Your fingers are close to touching his skin, at feeling him but his hands are so fast at catching your wrists and moving them away with that stupid smirk against your lips. “Uh uh, sugar, not so fast.”

You groan, hating the sound of his voice and hating how he’s worked you up so easily, gotten you right where he wants you only to deny you of something that could make him seem at least enjoyable to hate. You bite down on his plump bottom lip, harshly but not enough to draw blood, and Chris growls deeply in his chest, the vibrations rumbling against your own. “You’re so mean, you know that?” You hiss at him when you let go, “You started this and now you’re stopping? Ugh, that’s so annoying.”

Wow, you really sound like a child who isn’t getting your way.

Chris seems to find your anger at him amusing and he pulls away to look at you, his dark eyes dancing with the lust that you’re bringing out of him. He lets go of your wrist, only one as he holds the other tightly, and lifts his free hand to your chin; his fingers hold you securely as his eyes never leave yours, reading the heat behind your burning gaze. Turning your head towards the party, Chris brings your attention to the area that they are in while his lips ghost along the shell of your ear.

“You want to give them another show?”

Using all the strength that you can muster in one hand, you push hard against his chest and Chris steps back as he chuckles, knowing that he’s rattled your cage. “Fuck you.” You say as you storm off towards the bathroom so that you can cool off – or get off.

You feel Chris behind you, not letting you get too far away from him, and while you want to round on him and give him another piece of your mind, another side of you has a completely different thought, one you’ve read far too many times in your books. You want him to follow you, to lock the bathroom door behind him, and cage you against the sink. You want him to fuel that fire, to mock you, tease you, and then kiss you until you both can’t breathe. You want him to run those stupid, large, veiny hands down your body and cause goosebumps to cover your skin. You want him to fuck you like you’ve been dreaming and fantasising about.

You don’t know where it comes from, this need for him, this passion that runs through your veins when it comes to Chris. His irritatingly sexy voice whispers in your ear as they enter the small bathroom together, reaching behind him to lock the door. His infuriatingly firm body presses against your body as his annoyingly handsome face is seen in the mirror.

Why? Why can’t you get him out of her head when he pisses you off so much? Why are you so attracted to him when he’s showing everything that you say you hate about a man?

They say that there’s a fine line between love and hate but this? This is something else entirely and you want to say that you don’t want him but as his hands rest on your body, tightly holding onto your waist, you push back against him. You grind her ass against his groin and feel the effect that you have on him. It’s like everything you’ve been thinking in your mind before is about to play out and you can’t help but think that this is a pretty typical encounter for enemies who can’t stand each other.

“What the fuck are you doing to me?” He growls, teeth clenched as he pulls you closer while rolling his hips and making you feel his length. “You’re driving me insane.”

Everything he says he doesn’t need, everything he lies to himself about when it comes to a mate, it all went out the window the moment that your lips met. Chris had no idea what he was thinking but the moment that he saw you with another man’s lips against yours, something inside his mind snapped and all he could think about was making sure that he erased that man’s taste off your tongue. The slap added fuel to the burning fire building in his abdomen, a slight sucker for pain maybe, but it only pushed him towards you instead of making him step back.

He should have left you alone when you headed to the bathroom though but he didn’t. He should have stopped at the threshold and let you be but here he is.

Here you are.

And there goes his sanity.

Pushing against you, he can smell you, your arousal, and it is so fucking intoxicating. It goes straight to his head and fills his mind with many different ways that he could claim you. You are his after all, his mate, he should take you and make sure that everyone at this party knows who you belong to but Chris tries so hard to hold onto whatever broken sanity he has. He can’t force you into this life, not without knowing what it is, he needs to remember that… he needs to focus…

“What the fuck are you doing to me? You’re driving me insane.” Your eyes are locked in the mirror, Chris watching you react so prettily to his need pressing against your ass. The bathroom is too small, there’s not enough space to put distance between you even if he tried. Your scent is filling up the room quickly and all his blood is rushing to his cock, making his pants tight and uncomfortable.

He needs to get you away from him before he can’t hold back. The way your body is responding so readily to him, moving in time with his movements as you practically dry hump while staring into each other’s eyes – it is not helping. All it’s doing is telling him that you want him, that your body can take him, and now all Chris can really think about is how he could slip right between your folds and stretch you out nicely. Shit, that thought definitely isn’t helping.

“Sugar,” your hum sounds too much like a moan and Chris tenses his jaw as if he’s one movement away from breaking. “I need you to leave.” Your brow furrows, confused and he takes a few shallow breaths as if that’ll clear his head with you surrounding him. “If we don’t- fuck-” You push against him and his fingers flex, nearly holding you tight enough that you’ll bruise, “don’t fucking do that.” He growls and your body shivers at the sound.

“Why not?” He can see the smile playing on your biteable lips as you do it again and Chris groans deeply at the feeling. You’re loving the fact that he’s unable to get away from you on his own, that it’s really up to you. It’s the reason you won’t leave, knowing that you have the power to basically make or break him right now, that you are able to get under his skin, why would you back away and stop this?

You don't understand that he’s doing this for your sake as well as his own. You just know that you’re winning and that’s all you want.

You brush your hair to the side as you press your back against his chest, your scent fragrant and strong as Chris grits his teeth and closes his eyes. A happy place, he tries to convince himself, go to a happy place, and not give in to your temptation but it seems his wolf is taking your side and giving in. It’s a battle of the wills and Chris has very little self-control in this situation. It’s true that he hasn’t had sex in a while, suppressing every rut with whatever magical potion he can get his hands on and exerting the energy through training so being presented with a sweet treat like you makes it hard for him to resist.

What is he other than a simple wolf?

His nose runs down the length of your neck, inhaling deeply and tightening his fingers on your hips. If he slips, even just slightly, his nails will dig into her soft skin and break the skin so he needs to be… “Fuck.” Chris growls deeply as his teeth graze softly over a patch of your skin that makes you moan and the sound bounces off the walls, or at least that’s what it feels like. “You’re dangerous, sugar.”

Giggling, fucking giggling, you lean forward and grip the basin while pushing your ass right against his bulge, his cock throbbing and begging to be released. How the fuck is he going to get out of this? No, how is going to fuck you without– “I taste just as sweet as I sound.” Your words cause Chris to freeze for a moment as his brain registers what you just said and it seems that it is all the wolf needs to lose the battle since his fingers automatically move to push your dress over your perfect ass.

Now, he’s not someone who cares about a woman’s body. They are always beautiful no matter their size but your soft hips told him that you were built like a meal. Licking his lips, Chris looks down and runs his hands smoothly over your rump before giving it a spank. You yelp softly, eyes locked on his face but Chris is too busy watching the little jiggle he’s rewarded with and he does it again, just to revel in how your body reacts. “Is that so, sugar?” Fuck, your arousal is so much stronger and it causes his mouth to salivate like he’s so close to his dessert that he can taste it on his tongue already. “You offering a free taste test?”

“Only if you are man enough to try it.” Your words are meant to be a jab but Chris simply chuckles, his lips lifting in a smirk as he moves one hand up your back, dress lifting more, while the other runs teasingly along your clothed core.

You’re soaked, he knew you would be but feeling it is better than he can imagine. The teasing, the thrill of the fuck, hell, maybe even the fighting turns you on. “Do you always get this wet around me, hm?” Applying a little more pressure, Chris rubs back and forth and notices how you stand on your tiptoes to give him a better angle. “When we fought in the bakery, were you clenching your thighs to stop yourself from begging me to fuck you?” You gasp lightly as he rubs circles over your clit before continuing working you over your panties. “Does a little fighting count as foreplay for you? Maybe you’re not as sweet as you look, sugar, hm?”

He can hear you trying to retort, trying to reply and get back at him but your body betrays you by clenching around nothing and just feeling it, knowing it would feel so good around his cock makes his wolf howl in the back of his head. 

“Spread a little for me, baby girl,” Chris gently slaps your thighs and you comply. “There’s a good girl.” He growls out before using both hands to rip your panties messily, the pieces still clinging to your hips while the crotch hangs pathetically. Well, they were ruined anyway.

Before you can say anything, before you can try to tell him off for ruining a seemingly pretty set of lingerie, Chris plunges two calloused fingers into your soaked pussy. His digits slide in easily with no resistance just like he imagined, just like he’s dreamed about, your walls accepting him as they flutter around his fingers and sounding so messy as he prepares you for what’s to come.

You are but that’s not the point.

“Such a pretty little whore, hm? Letting yourself get fucked in the bathroom at a house party,” Chris grins as his eyes meet yours in the mirror, your eyes hardening slightly before he moves his hand and curls his fingers, watching your reaction to him hitting that sweet spot. “Huh? What was that?”

Your head drops as you push back, trying to take him deeper, “fuck you.” You manage out in one breath before biting your lip harshly, as if you’re trying to stop him from hearing those sweet moans he knows you can make.

“Sorry, kitten, I didn’t hear you.” Chris brings his other hand into play, reaching around you and rubbing your clit while still fingering you from behind. The moans break through, knuckles turning white from how tightly you’re holding the basin and he knows it’s getting hard for you to keep yourself from falling completely. He can feel it, the way your body tenses and relaxes, the push and pull, the internal fight unlike what he was having – you want to mess with him but you also want to give in and feel so good. “You were saying?”

“You’re cruel!” You whine, clenching around him. He doesn’t know whether you’re referring to the fact that Chris hasn’t picked up the pace and has basically been keeping you on the brink or the fact that he’s enjoying turning the tables on you despite him barely holding back. “God, please! Just… please!”

Ah, the pace.

It won’t be that easy though. “Please, what, sugar?” Chris slows down ever-so-slightly. You shake your head, biting your lip and not wanting to give him what he wants, so he slows down a little more, fingers barely doing anything but keeping you on edge and making your body jolt. “You want something, tell me and I’ll give it to you.” He rubs your clit a little and you moan softly before he stops again, “Otherwise, you won’t get to cum.”

You contemplate, wondering if this really is worth it but when he rubs your clit again, you fold almost instantly. God, it’s been so long since a guy has made you feel this good and you refuse to go home with your pussy throbbing for the thickness you could feel beneath his pants – not without having it stretch you out and fill you up first. A bitch in heat maybe, you’re starting to feel like one right now with the way your body is heating up and begging for more. “Please, let me cum.” You try not to make it sound like you’re begging but the whine you let out makes it impossible to play off otherwise.

A deep growl of approval is what you’re rewarded with as Chris picks up his pace and finds the perfect rhythm to send you over the edge. You feel it starting in your toes before making its way up your body and mixing with the heat in your core. It reminds you of when you’ve been playing with your vibrator and haven't cum in so long that your whole body responds so intensely. A visceral reaction to the stimulation. Your hand slaps down on the stone basin, stinging your palm while your body goes rigid for a moment as your walls clench and flutter around his fingers, still moving and not slowing down. A long moan escapes you but you can’t slap a hand over your mouth out of fear that you may collapse without both hands to support you.

“So fucking pretty,” Chris says as he slows down his movements and pulls his fingers away from your throbbing heat. “You feeling okay, hm?” He asks, eyes on yours as if he’s really concerned for you and he waits, a few heartbeats, for you to nod her head. “Good.” Your eyes widen when Chris brings his fingers to his lips, unashamedly keeping eye contact while sucking them clean before tilting his head back in pleasure. The way he moans at your taste goes straight to your empty cunt, sensitive but needing more. “You do taste so fucking sweet.”

His eyes almost shine as he looks back at you and there’s something slightly different about him. You can’t explain it, not really but it’s almost like he’s more gone than he has been showing or like another side has come out, whatever it could be, you can’t linger on it for too long because Chris is unbuckling his belt and releasing his cock. Not that you can see it, even if you were to look over her shoulder, you wouldn’t be able to see from the way that you’re leaning forward but it’s not long before you feel it.

Chris rubs the tip through your folds, gathering your slick and using it as a lubricant before grabbing your hips and pushing forward to sheath to the hilt. You whine at the intrusion, thicker than his fingers, but feeling so good that you don’t think about anything else. He moves slowly, allowing you to feel every inch stretch your velvet walls and all you can say at the feeling is, “holy shit.” He knows that you’re still feeling high from your previous orgasm, so you’re only given a short moment before Chris is pulling you up by your shoulder and wrapping an arm around your body.

Breath hot against your sensitive skin, his cock as deep as he can get it at this angle, Chris kisses your neck. One hand is on your hips, holding on for dear life while the other arm is wrapped around your chest, just under your breasts, as you’re crushed against his firm body. “You feel even better than I imagined.” Chris’ voice is deep before he starts to move.

There’s barely any thoughts that come through your brain after that, barely anything even registers other than the pleasure coursing through your body as Chris fucks you like he’s as desperate as you are. His head buried in your neck, his low grunts and groans sounding in your ear as you moan and call his name – as well as to whatever Gods may be unfortunately watching. You enjoy sex, it always makes you feel good and she can’t say that she’s never had mind-blowing sex before but this, this is something else entirely. It’s like you fit together perfectly, like he’s filling you completely, hitting all the right spots and making you whimper and whine as another orgasm starts to build.

“Hold it,” Chris commands, his lips pressed against your bare shoulder, eyes locked on your face as you barely manage to make eye contact. “Don’t you dare cum.”

Your hands reach for his, one clinging onto the hand that’s digging, bruising, your soft hips while the other digs into his forearm. This is your only lifeline right now, the only thing keeping you aware. Sure, maybe you didn’t have to inflict pain on Chris but considering his command has your body almost immediately responding – you have to do something. “Please–”

“Not. Yet.” He grunts, picking up the pace. Chris angles his hips to hit the spot that should make you see stars but it doesn’t push you over the edge, not yet, almost as if everything is waiting for him to give permission. He commands your body, he commands what it’s needing and feeling and you are nothing but the puppet following along. Your head falls back against his body, giving in completely and allowing him to build up your orgasm until his strokes begin to get messier and harsher.

It’s as if your body just knew what was about to happen or maybe it’s something else that triggers it but the moment Chris buries himself deep inside her, letting out a deep growl as he harshly bites into your shoulder – you cum around him. Your body feels light, weightless, as he holds you tightly in his arms, teeth breaking skin while your pussy milks his cock. It feels like minutes tick by before Chris pulls out, causing a slight mess between your thighs as cum leaks out of your still pulsing cunt.

In and out. Deep breaths. Nothing but the sound of you two breathing can be heard as you look in the mirror, eyes focusing on Chris only to see him staring at your shoulder. “You have some sharp teeth there, Chris.” You laugh breathily, reaching to touch the bite mark and wincing slightly at the tenderness. You like hickeys, you don’t mind being marked but it was kinky that he bit you like that.

This sets off a chain of events that has you standing there confused and understandably upset. Chris adjusts himself, tidying up his clothes and pulling as far away from you as he can. It’s almost like he didn’t know what had just happened and why he was touching inside you, a shift from how he couldn’t stay away earlier. You’re turning to face him, looking a little happier about being this close to him than you first were when you entered the room but Chris looks like being near you is the last place he wants to be. With a small, uncertain smile, you reach for him, “come on, it couldn’t have been that bad, hm?”

But, Chris pulls his hand away from yours. “This was a mistake…”

The words are said so quietly that you could say you misheard him, only for Chris to make a speedy exit afterwards, so fast that if he was a cartoon, there’d be a cloud in the shape of him.  This sudden retreat has you standing there in shock, your lust filled brain getting a harsh reality splashed onto your face. You don't know what happened, why this happened, especially when it seemed like it was something that you both wanted. It wasn’t bad, in fact, while there are so many things you know could have been better – like not being in a bathroom – the way it felt so electric, like your whole body was in tune with his, it was definitely a great way to break your dry spell. None of that is what she’s fixated on though, you can forgive the way he left you to clean up by yourself, you can forgive the slight throbbing from where he bit your shoulder, but what you can’t forgive are those words that Chris dared to utter.

This was a mistake.

Tears well up in your eyes, and your hands shake as you lock the door so you don't get interrupted. As you clean up, those words echo over and over again. This was a mistake. You remember saying that when you broke up with your ex, you remember saying that your relationship was a mistake because you were two different people. You remember hearing Serena say that when she tried to double a recipe she really shouldn’t have and made a monstrous cake that nearly overflowed in the oven. You have heard those words plenty of times in your life but never, ever have you had them said to you like that.

This was a mistake. Damn right, it was. A mistake that will never happen again.

[brontidepng]

oh #sulemioweek23 day 4 - does it count as supernatural if only suletta can see ghosts

and some light novel titles i thought of:

haunted by my big sister: i can see her spirit, and she's my wingman?!?

my crush can't find out about my sister's ghost

my little sister needs a wingman

weird things keep happening around me and this mercurian girl

** background is a screenshot from episode 1 (at timestamp: ~8m51s)

[entomolog-t]

Got an Idea

In the world of "Bite Me" vampires are real tiny parasitic things, right? But they're still vampires. Does that mean there are people like paranormal hunters or something? There's so much potential in these...

THIS IS A GREAT QUESTION!

So to avoid spoilers I'm going to be pretty vague-

Vampires in the Bite Me universe are abnormal but not paranormal (though I will be doing a paranormal au because there is SO MUCH potential so by all means I can try to answer some more trad vampire stuff if talking about the potential au).

THOUGH- that doesn't mean that the tiny lil bloodsucking activity has gone completely unnoticed right? I mean, Aedes can't possibly be the only vampire who's been caught...

A BIT MORE ELABORATION

Vampires are completely normal biologically speaking, in that they don't have supernatural powers. The vampires in the Bite Me universe are essentially just a type of well adapted parasite. Some lil tidbits about their biology-

⚠ Nerd Alert ⚠

They are nocturnal- and hunt at night. Their eyes are adapted for low light conditions, though they can still move freely in the light.

They have an instinctual fear towards light (feels open, the feeling of being watched etc...) essentially to avoid predation by animals or being spotted by humans

Vampires have keen senses (hearing, smell, taste, sight) and phenomenal reaction time in order to help hunt. With their processing speed and keen senses, unless you catch one in the act or manage to corner/trap one, vampires are extremely hard to catch by just grabbing (cough cough, unless a certain lil someone likes to be grabbed) His senses dull when not in active "bloodlust" in order to keep the mind from being perpetually overwhelmed by everything all at once, though even dulled they are remarkably keen.

They are stronger than humans (relatively speaking), and quite durable. They have a high density of fast twitch muscles that helps further bolster their reaction time.

I've dabbled with the possibly of them having mild electroreception (basically in order to have a 6th sense towards heart beats as the muscle contracts) BUUUT I want to play around with the speculative biology with that. Mammals don't typically have an electrosense (more of a fish thing) but there are exceptions- yet those are still water based (with the semi exception of the echidna) so I'd have to do some pretty hefty playing around if I wanted to make it work.

They're allergic to garlic (along with a lot of other foods). Carnivorous, especially blood based parasitic diets leave an organism with an extremely reduced gut (Fun fact, theres actually a reason behind Aedes' slutty lil waist 😭) so they typically lack the ability to digest some harsher irritants, garlic being a big one. The smell is also extremely pungent so, yes, it absolutely will keep Aedes away (though it would have to be crushed)

Vampires in Bite Me do have one ability that feels almost supernatural- they are natural mimics. Vampires have incredible vocal control and ranges. This is incredibly useful to both ward off predators and lure in prey. Because of this- there are some typical tactics they use to avoid being caught (Some in more remote regions will mimic a rattlesnake rattle to deter a person from coming closer if they get spotted- and are usually able to slip away while the human calls pest control). This skill has led to both folklore and urban legends, about weird sounds occurring in strange locations. With their speed and skills in avoiding detection, a person would likely assume their house is haunted well before thinking theres a little vampire running around their house

Typically their bite is mildly numbing- though a very small number of people have a mutation that makes the numbing nearly completely ineffective (June being one of them). In that case, the numbing tends to work against its intended purpose- the numbing instead being noticeably tingling, and without the numbing agent, the anticoagulation factors and vasodilators within the saliva increase sensation in tandem with the increased bloodflow to the bite area, as well as giving the overall area a warm sensation.

WHEW

That was a chunky lore dump.

[kflixnet]

Check out our member Bai's fic!!

Impressionism

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🩸 pairing: vampire!gallerist/collector!seonghwa x art historian!gn!reader 🩸 genre: fluff, noir, soulmates, supernatural, strangers(?) to lovers, art nerding 🩸 summary: a post-graduate student specialising in impressionism, you were a regular visitor to the many art galleries in the city. who knew that among the paintings you would encounter your favourite, timeless work of art? 🩸 wordcount: 12.3k 🩸 warnings/tags: questionable editing, mention of blood, fangs, wounds, suggestive, many pet names (love, darling etc), art theory/history ponderings, time skips, mention of rituals, philosophy, hwa is centuries-old, yearning hwa 🩸 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🩸 a/n: happy birthday to @starrysvn!! lheo, ilysm, and i hope you enjoy this little rambling <3 hugs to everyone, all reblogs, notes and comments appreciated! 🩸 playlist: nfwmb - hozier, who is she? - i monster, keep on loving you - cas, la vie en rose - edith piaf, a l'ombre de nous - pierre barouh, les feuilles mortes / sous le ciel de paris - yves montand, moon over bourbon street / until - sting

‘Love and Pain’ - an enigmatic masterpiece that was painted by Edvard Munch, the famous Norwegian artist, in 1895. In vibrant oil paints a dramatic scene interpreted by millions as something more sensual, darker, revealing was immortalised. Perhaps quite literally. You leaned back on one hand, feeling the coolness of the bench located in the middle of the gallery hall, careful to not let the notebook in your hands slip from your lap. ‘Vampire’ - first, it was a label for the woman with the alluring, long red locks that was leaning over her supposed lover, then it turned into a second name for the work. It was comical how Munch himself had initially stated the piece depicted nothing more than a woman kissing the neck of a man, and yet, the tale had told itself. What followed were six versions of this same subject, with a woodcut titled “Vampyr II”, followed by paintings titled ‘Vampire’ and ‘Vampire in the Forest’, and then through common acceptance that this indeed was the ‘submission of a man to the bite of a vampire’, if you were to paraphrase a critic who had been in an astoundingly similar position as you, except without the decades upon decades of other material to refer to. They had been the firstcomers, the initial perceivers to set the tone for society’s consumption of the artwork, the louder of the many voices in the artwork who often had the final say. In some senses, they were your long lost colleagues - they were there to create history, and you were there to study it.

While it was not exactly a part of the movement you had decided to specialise in, you nonetheless would never reject the opportunity to learn more about the stunning world of visual arts, trying to guess how the artist had felt in the moment, what did they see beyond what they presented to the world, how did they translate the heart into brushstrokes. You were taken by all forms of art since you were little - having grown up surrounded by items that were far removed from what you called your air, you were intrigued by anything that was external to your version of ordinary. In your case, it just so happened to be the little private gallery that you had spent almost all of your monthly allowance to visit when you were a school kid - you had been so dedicated, in fact, that the elderly guard who had often also acted as a guide to the visitors had become your first friend in the art world, something of a grandparent figure, and on multiple occasions - when the lack of eyes would allow, simply let you through with a grin and glance out of the entrance doors.

And so here you were, many years later, many hard decisions and conversations behind you, regarding artworks with an unprecedented soulful closeness that you had initially thought was unattainable. Had you believed all those who remained outside of the walls of your personal paradise, you would have been immersed in the same cycle that had been drilled into the majority of your family members, except maybe a handful who you had never met for the exact reason that they had chosen something for themselves. But you regarded your dream as the thorned path - undoubtedly more challenging, not immediately fruitful, but in the long run leading to the heaven of your design. What more could you ask for?

It was enjoyable to be alone with the paintings surrounding you, portals to new realms that any visitor could have the pleasure of exploring. And what was even more inspiring, was that in the eye of every beholder was a different universe, and no matter who one would speak to, their version of the painting would be different, even if just slightly. You huffed, amused. When was the last time you had visited a gallery with anyone else? You could not quite recall - it was likely that you had never seeked company from another because you were more than satisfied with the company of the legendary works that were regarding you from the many walls. It was possible to compose oneself, spend limitless time on every piece, study the details, and drift into one’s own musings when there was no one to ground them. This was when you dared to say you got your best work done. Even though you, of course, conducted research within university and ventured out to galleries, museums, collectors or auctions only within professional bounds, the bulk of the thinking process was carried out in times such as this. When it was just you, your notebook and pen, and a new point of focus. However, this time, you could not say you were fully attentive to the painting that you had decided to focus on, as a certain someone was appearing to share your level of interest in ‘Love and Pain’ too. 

A gentleman who could not be much older or younger than you, at most a couple of years, stood off to the right of the bench, unmoving, gaze fixated on the painting. Dressed in a pinstripe navy suit, light blue dress shirt, lacquered dress shoes and a matching navy tie, he was nothing short of being a moving work of art. Hints of a glimmer from his thin framed, elegant silver spectacles gave the man a scholarly aura, while the slicked back dark hair - evidently a lot longer than the styling would suggest, added notes of business, entrepreneurship, perhaps leadership. Nothing was out of place, not a crease, not an exposed thread in sight. Needless to say, your curiosity had been sparked.

Much like you found joy in exploring creations in the realm of the visual arts, you were fond of crafting stories about the people who were strangers in passing. You could not help it; perhaps this affinity for creative internal ramblings had come as a package with studying the degree you had selected, or perhaps this was a naturally occurring guilty pleasure that you simply had not had the chance to entertain before you cut yourself off from expectations and predetermined patterns of thought. But now, you had the full pleasure of wondering, letting your mind travel to lands far away as you took the real life masterpiece in, and pondered why the man could be here, what he could be thinking as he studied Munch’s work, and what resonated with him, and only him. 

There was a melancholia with the weight of centuries resting upon his shoulders, that much you could decipher in the stranger’s stance. Even then, there was a gentle burning flame within his heart judging by just how dedicated he was to inspecting the artwork. Like he was seeing an old friend for the first time in years, and was attempting to memorise them anew and recognise each change, bit by bit. You suppressed a chuckle, entertaining the possibility of this man finding a kinship with the painting, but chose to set the idea aside for the time being, instead focusing on sketching his emotional landscape. Was the stranger remorseful? Lonely? Perplexed? You could not quite pinpoint the answer, at least not before you noticed the man’s head starting to turn, and soon enough, his eyes were peering into your own.

They were two pools of deep chocolate, an all-consuming shade that, due to the ever so slightly dimmer lights than in the general halls of the gallery, appeared to be approaching a captivating onyx. The gaze that originated from behind the glasses, and glided across the room that was suddenly too small for two struck you, and you could feel heat starting to rise on your face, blush threatening to reveal the effect of the man’s spontaneous act of confidence. Lowering your head, you gave the stranger a sheepish grin, and pretended to make a random note, pen erratically scribbling over a filled page. He continued to regard you with that same unwavering expression, and only when you looked up again did he seem to catch himself and give you a closed-mouth smile, equally as bashful as yours, and crossed his arms. One step, another, and he was right by the painting, though careful to not obstruct your view - instead, he took his time to read the brief paragraph on the information plaque that had been stuck to the wall off to the side of ‘Love and Pain’. With the same familiarity that is common among those grieving, or in a state of existential sorrow. A bittersweetness prevailed in his aura, one that reminded you of autumn - the falling leaves in red and gold, twirling to join a magnificent carpet, but nonetheless, making a departure, albeit a nearly unnoticeable one. Had he seen many fallen leaves? Was he himself approaching the season? You gasped, but even though the sound was barely audible, you caught the stranger making a minuscule turn in response. 

His footsteps were louder than your thoughts, his departure an irrevocably impactful act that left you breathless. You did not know him, and yet you felt as though you had gotten a glimpse at multiple lifetimes, and were part of a moment that was greater than yourself. In the wordless exchange, question after question had found its root, and something told you that you should not dare attempt to craft him a backstory, and choosing to believe in anything but what would be declared by him would be a gross misinterpretation, much like one that was carried out by those who did not wish to reflect on art and look beyond a first impression. For the first time since you had made your initial discovery of the arts, you felt like you were not alone in the gallery, the other visitor’s presence remained so intense that he could be sat right next to you, scrutinising the same painting, entertaining the same thought. Was the woman with the bright tresses indeed what she had been declared to be over the many years she had been introduced to many venues, many variations of public, and finally finding a home on this wall? Did she settle with her lover, or perhaps a carefully selected victim? Would the man have an answer?

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ . It was unlike you to retrace your steps a mere few days after a visit and return to the same gallery, amble down the same halls, and seek for a new source of investigative inspiration among the same selection. This obviously did not mean that you would never return, definitely not, that would be almost criminal of you to possess such intentions, but you tended to try to cleanse your palate with alternative movements, contemporary takes and avant garde interpretations between searches which were more directly related to your studies. And yet, for the first time in a while, nothing was stopping you from your return. It felt only natural, and so right. Moreover, you felt no unease when you headed straight towards the section that housed the impressionists. An individual with an unspoken, mysterious mission, you were on the hunt for the creative streak, something that would help you ponder the next section of your hefty dissertation, and you could sense that it had to be somewhere here. And, like always, you were right.

‘Bazille’s Studio’, one of the most famous works painted by the so-called ‘tragic artist’ of the impressionists, Frédéric Bazille in 1870. In fact, it had been a collaboration between him and Édouard Manet, another gifted artist, though more renowned as a figure leading modernism, and depicted a scene of discussion and creative collaboration in the studio that Bazille had shared for a certain period of time with other spectacular figures of the visual arts, Claude Monet, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, who could also be found in this painting. On the walls were works rejected by the Salon, which at the time had been the one of the most influential, famous art exhibitions in the Western World, administered by the Académie des Beaux-Arts in Paris. Interestingly, above the piano on the right hung a painting which Bazille had purchased from Monet, potentially hinting at the material ties between them, and the importance the young artist had because of his familial wealth. In a sense, Bazille expressed his support, as well as showed an intimate, platonic scene of the art world where there was a moment of calm, of mutual appreciation, despite the financial troubles and tensions due to character that had been experienced in those walls.

You stepped closer to the painting, trying to detect the transition from Bazille’s to Manet’s hand, the latter of whom painted in the former to take ‘centre stage’, palette in hand. Truly seamless work, though what else could it be? This painting had been a new addition to the permanent collection, and after strenuous, detailed restoration work to give the oil paints their original vibrancy and for impeccable strokes to forget the burden of time, you had the pleasure of seeing it in person. You were an arm’s length away from yet another work essential to history, culture and the arts as a societal colossus.

While it was easy enough to appreciate the technical detail, you found yourself halting to remember the names of all those depicted in the painting, failing to finalise the list in your head. Starting from Bazille, you had determined for yourself the presence of Monet and Manet in his vicinity quickly enough, however where Renoir was, or what were the names of the two other gentlemen in the scene, slipped your mind. You rocked to the side to lean closer to the plaque that was meant to provide you with the information, however you only found the name of the painting, the artist and the medium, much to your misfortune. Clicking your tongue, you returned to studying the faces of each individual, and furrowed your brows in agitated concentration. It was simple to take out your phone and search for the answer, though you knew that just as neutral that action would be, so would be your reaction unless you were to remember, or somebody were to-

A presence to your side caught you off-guard, and you felt a shiver run up your spine. One glance was enough to determine that it was the same man from yesterday, only the outfit revealing a change. Other than that, he had the same impeccable posture and stance, as well as a thoughtful look towards the painting in front of you both. His arms were crossed, though not in a defensive manner; instead they offered an interpretation of philosophy, as though this man was carrying centuries of wisdom with him, history having pummelled down on him and yet needing to support it like Atlas; the titan carrying the world.

Today, he was dressed in a mahogany coloured suit, with a white top underneath and some black boots with thick white rubber soles - quite the transition from last time, when he had been a manifestation of a sleek and pristine office gentleman. Hair, now let down and wavy, neatly framed his face, accentuating the regalness of his features. It was astounding how you were still sure that it would be more likely to find a man of this fashion in a painting, rather than standing beside you. You kept quiet, not wanting to interfere with his musings. Perhaps it was just a silly coincidence that the two of you were at the same place and at the same time again - how else? You did not know him, and you hoped that he did not know you. Though, you truly did not mind his company, and maybe it could serve as your motivation to figure out the rest of the characters in the painting. Once again, your attention returned to the task at hand, but before you could even begin to list off prominent figures of the art world during the era of Impressionism, a deep, honey-like whisper halted you and made you hold your breath. 

“Auguste Renoir is the one seated, Emile Zola, the writer, is on the stairs, Monet, Manet and Bazille are, as you likely know in the centre, and that,” he paused to raise his hand, gesturing in the general direction of the far right of the piece, “is Edmond Maitre. Pianist, art collector, and Bazille’s closest friend.”

“I- uh- thank you. How did you know I was trying to recall? Pardon me, I must look so clueless-” you trailed off, eyes finding the floor, an action which seemed to be your automatic response to being under inspection of the man, though this time, he captured your gaze quickly by stepping closer towards you. Looking up, you found concern and apology in his eyes.

“No! Not at all, I… sorry if I misunderstood and I am sorry for forcing you into such erroneous conclusions,” he gave you an ever so slightly crooked smile, charming, very disarming and so suiting this beautiful stranger, that you were instantly prompted by your instincts to return it, dismissing doubt. 

“You saved me,” you joked, though the phrase contained within itself an unlikely compassion. Two people, alone in the same gallery, sharing a precious dialogue was something to cherish, and with all your might you wanted to make it last.

“Just as you made me regard the painting in a new light, for which I thank you, greatly,” he bowed his head, the smile not leaving his face for a moment. There was a recognition in his gaze, as well as an inexplicable admiration. What did he discover?

“I guess it might be true that no matter how many times you see a painting, every viewing brings something new,”

“Well said. Are you an artist? A critic, perhaps?” He inquired, moving closer to stand level with you, head turned slightly in your direction to spare the occasional glance. You shook your head slowly, wondering if in a retelling of your destiny you could have pursued either of the careers he had mentioned.

“I am in the arts, though rather than looking at the present I remain in the past. Art historian, well, a postgraduate. Nothing too fancy.”

“Oh? But that is marvellous, and what are you focusing on?”

“I like to call it the painting in plenair during the turn of the century. I focus mainly on impressionism, though do sometimes stray into its interplay with post-impressionism, modernism and expressionism.”

“Ah, no wonder I have been seeing you here often. Enjoying the new collection?” he asked, eager to hear your opinion. There was excitement in his voice as though you were a renowned expert and were about to bestow upon him a priceless evaluation. And this was without considering the technicality of you having only half-met. Just crossing paths twice in one week.

"Yes, of course… The collection is unlike any other I have seen. I keep wanting to return and stay here for ages." You explained, glancing at the stranger while he nodded along.

"Incredibly happy to hear it. I swear I have seen you around quite often during the past month that the exhibition has been open? Am I correct?" evidently, your rapid blinking was interpreted rather quickly as perplexion, for the man gasped ever so lightly, as if to catch his own speeding thoughts.

“I- how do you know? I do believe this is our… second time meeting?” you uttered, one eyebrow raised in suspicion, which, to your disbelief, revealed something akin to fear in the beautiful stranger’s features. Nervously, he adjusted a strand of hair that was threatening to cover his right eye.

“Not quite… you were present at the opening event, right?” he quizzed.

“Indeed, my depar- wait. But how? Respectfully, I am starting to think you know me.” you enunciated with newfound caution, while the man pursed his lips. One second, another passed in near total silence, until a chuckle escaped him and he shook his head. It appeared as though he was mentally scolding himself - his eyes held no malice, instead glinting with hope, that melancholic wisdom, and something unidentifiable, ethereal, supernatural.

“I think it is high time I introduce myself before this gets out of hand. See, in some sense I work here, and most of my days are spent in the gallery or labouring for it-”

“Ah, I see-”

“Park Seonghwa, a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” with one arm folded behind his back and the other on his chest, he bowed to you like how you imagined princes in the numerous portraits you had studied would bow. And the most enthralling part was how the gesture flowed, and was so befitting. Quickly, you bowed in return, but while raising your head, you froze. It hit you why he would know. And know a lot. And would remember you, and likely anyone and everyone who visited. In a low whisper, you asked:

“Am I… correct in assuming that you are ‘the’ Park Seonghwa?” quickly enough, you realised that it was a mistake to find his eyes again - clearly, you were not ready for the intensity, nor for the intrigue that was contained within them, nor for the fact that he moved another step closer to you, the rubber of his boots dampening any sound produced.

“I never knew that there was a ‘the’ attached to my name. I simply love art.”

“Well that love translated into the creation of what is possibly the greatest gallery in the nation, if not worldwide,”

“Oh you flatter me too much, ah, your name-”

“L/N Y/N, and I, too, love art.”

“Elated to hear it,” he gleamed, and you swore the room exploded with the illumination of a thousand stars.

Stunning, awe-inspiring, ever so elegant. He was a walking dream. In that smile was concealed a certain something that had been taboo, a well-kept secret until a couple of decades ago, when those like Seonghwa had started to be fully integrated into society, and no longer had to hide, changing identity from one century to another. With that came Seonghwa’s success - you had read in an article that advertised the permanent exhibition a short blurb of his story, and how for many turbulent decades, the man single-handedly collected masterpieces, crafted a meticulous network and introduced genius artists to the world, and the world to the artists. The gallery was a magnum opus for Seonghwa - a presentation of what he had achieved as a collector, as a patron of the arts, and a celebration of his personal culture. 

You could not help but hone in on the fangs, and recall the original reason why it was even possible for Seonghwa to obtain such legendary works and have as much influence as he presently did. It was not spontaneous; submerged in turmoil, he had personally approached artists who, previously abandoned by critics and other prospective buyers, had never considered a future beyond a mysterious tomorrow. Hiding his own true nature, he crafted the tale of a ‘Park’ dynasty, and rose again and again to continue his work. Perhaps, now, some might argue that once he had revealed himself as a vampire the velocity of Seonghwa’s developments had fallen, but you would passionately argue the opposite. It was challenging to believe that any move by this stunning artistic mastermind was not strategic - the announcement had given the gallery more partnerships, more donations, and in turn, an even greater prominence in the community both among professionals and enjoyers. 

“Thank you,” the phrase spilled from your lips inadvertently. It seemed to be the only thing that was reasonable to say in that given moment. You pondered the pains that must have been suffered to make the world that you were consumed by come together, and the painting in front of you, aside from what was contained within the frame,now shined in a new light externally too, possessing its own story, resembling a search for a kindred spirit, a true home. 

Seonghwa remained quiet, the words of gratitude echoing in his heart. It was endearing, encouraging to hear such warmth from you. So, you did know him, at least the parts he had shown to the public - as was expected from someone so deeply ingrained in visual arts and history, but he could not help but identify it as something much greater than mere awareness. The openness with which you had welcomed conversation with him, the kind charm that radiated from you as you engaged in the careful verbal waltz reminded the vampire of times long, long ago when all that existed for him was drive, enamourment and art. Oh, how your eyes glimmered. His heart clenched into near unbearable agony as he read your expressions, and wondered how much you have seen, what have you yet to see, who you were in this temporary life. If only he could ask fate to tell him how much you remembered of who you had been before. 

“No, thank you, for giving this,” he gestured to the gallery around him, graceful hand unfurling as though revealing a delicate flower, “meaning, and reason to exist.”

“I highly doubt I am of much significance, Mister Park,” you responded, a soft smile on your face.

“Would anything hold the same meaning if there was no one to behold it?” he responded. You chose not to answer, catching onto the rhetoricism, “and please, call me Seonghwa. I’d like to say we are to be good friends.”

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

Sitting across from Seonghwa in the cafe that was located on the top floor, above the main halls of the gallery made you feel strangely serene. Today he had foregone the straighter hair styles that you had begun to get used to, surprising you with a head of tousled, almost curled locks that embodied the world’s softness, though remained to be quite the contrast to the more formal and highly fashionable attire that adorned his stature. A suit, tastefully oversized with a buttoned double breasted jacket that was simultaneously serving as a shirt, the plunging v-shaped neckline revealing perfectly smooth skin, and what you noted to be a solitary freckle right in the centre of his collarbone. The trousers, at least from the glimpse that you had allowed yourself when you had met at the entrance to the cafe were of a loose fit, defining his waist at the top and falling to form an almost skirt-like silhouette should he stand how he usually stood: the echoes of what would be called the ‘third position’ in ballet, more relaxed, but still retaining an elegance that only he could carry. The biggest shock to you, however, was Seonghwa’s choice of shoes - a refreshing point to the visual, he had selected to contrast the formalwear with a pair of limited edition, geometrically intriguing Converses. You could catch a glimpse of one of them from over the edge of the table whenever his slightly shaking leg, positioned over the other, would rock forwards just that tiny bit stronger. 

While the setting was meant to be casual, the circumstances in which you found yourself were nothing short of miraculous. Never in a million years would you have imagined for it to be possible to be sat across the table from, quite possibly, one of the most legendary contributors to art restoration, collection and exhibition. On top of that, Seonghwa was a figure who actively bridged the gap between disparate communities, finding a common language, and using the arts as a salvation. You were in awe, and could not hold back on regarding the handsome vampire as he quietly reported your and his orders to the waiter who had floated to your table.

“Are you sure you do not want anything else?”

“Yes, I am sure. I do not wish to exploit your kindness-”

“-Not at all. I hope you do not mind that I… must make a rather unconventional order,” he smiled sheepishly, clearing his throat so as to attempt to hide his doubts, though you were uncertain as to how much of such emotions could possibly be left after what had to have been centuries. 

“An unconventional order is pouring a sugary energy drink into a triple shot espresso and calling it dinner,” you answered, eyes travelling from Seonghwa’s face to the mural on the wall a few tables away that wrapped behind him and to your left, disrupted only by the occasional floor length window that provided city vistas - rather gloomy, compared to the optimistic illumination of the restaurant. Perhaps out of pity, or out of genuine entertainment, Seonghwa chuckled.

“That does sound like an acquired taste, indeed. Thank you,”

“No need. Thank you for inviting me,” you turned back, nodding a polite bow as he softly waved your gesture off.

A silence settled across the table as you waited for your respective drinks. Your hand, had you not consciously restrained yourself, would have probably reached for the phone that you stored in your purse, but now was fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt, finding the buttons to stress test the threads that had them sewn tight to the fabric. You were not bored, in fact, far from it. You needed a barrier. The grandeur of this man’s presence was almost overwhelming. He was not a mere individual in a room, he consumed it. Had you just walked in, you were certain that your gaze would still settle on his form. Just like the concrete outside was grey, and the pause retained a divine ambiguity, Seonghwa was unforgettable. In an attempt to calm your clouded thoughts, you studied the mural once more.

“May I inquire into your thoughts on the decor?”

“The choice of ‘A Sunday on La Grande Jatte’ is wise. I am guessing you were the one to make the decision?” you heard an exhale, and once more your attention was captured.

“Alas, I cannot take full accolades for this. This stemmed from a discussion that a good friend of mine and I had one late night. Seurat just so happened to make an appearance amidst the chatter, and so… this was born,” he gestured at the surroundings. Clearly, the interior was picked carefully to fit the theme of the legendary painting. 

From the colours to the textures and the greenery that had been intricately set up across the restaurant, every detail had a meaning and a place, and did not take away from the spaciousness of the hall. It was breathable, while still giving the illusion that you were stepping into a whimsical impressionist paradise. Perhaps that was another reason why you could not quite contain your disbelief firstly in your encounter, secondly in its progression, and thirdly in your interlocutor’s warmth. 

“Spectacular, truly. I have heard you have an eye for detail, however this surpasses all expectations.”

“Oh? There is more you have heard?” he interjected, leaning closer to you and placing an elbow on the table, simply to rest his head on his hand. While this could potentially be seen as slightly unceremonious, it hinted at well-kept confidence, ownership, control. A healthy undercurrent of motivation that came with indirect praise.

“I-oh y-yeah of course,” you did not mean to stutter, but some part of you was grateful you did, for the smirk that had threatened to burst on Seonghwa’s lips was enough for you to feel ignited to elaborate, “if my memory is not failing me, you were the one to distinguish a reproduction of a piece some time ago, no?”

“Ah- yes. That was a Degas reproduction. I must say, the attempt was sincere, however when I saw the-, hm, you will not be startled, will you?”

“Please,” you urged him to continue, intrigued by the story. 

“When I saw the original, as it was being made and when it had been finalised, it would be shameful of me to not spot a fake,” he fell back into his chair, just in time for the drinks to be served. 

A coffee for you, and a non-descript beverage concealed by a semi-opaque, tall glass for him. Though, you did not need to be a detective to guess what it was that Seonghwa was bringing to his lips, and what he took a tentative sip of. The only mystery that was remaining for you was what ‘type’ he had picked - was it O+? B-? Whatever else? You joined him in the tasting, lifting the mug and indulging in the wonderful aroma of your americano. It did not strike you as necessary to opt for something fancier and lie to yourself - so you settled for your regular order, much to your joy. Familiar taste and the reliability of the caffeine hitting your system painted the scene in more comforting colours, and gradually, you found yourself easing into the dialogue more and more, until life stories, musings and a surprisingly large common ground came pouring. 

You discovered that Seonghwa possessed a unique sensitivity and attunement to those around him. Focused on the emotional experiences, he felt through time and could recount emotions like the memory was from a mere few days, rather than decades ago. He was well-spoken, eloquent, intelligent, polite in every right as he navigated through the linguistic landscape and guided you like a partner in a dance. You were spiralling oh so quickly, intrigue catching up to you and prompting you to sacrifice all of your senses to the man and the pleasantly intoxicating atmosphere he captured you in. He was enchanting, and it was far too easy to give in. 

“May I reveal something?” in a hushed tone, he inquired, a finger absent-mindedly tracing the rim of his glass. 

“Oh, a little secret?” you raised your eyebrows in jest, lightening the initial seriousness with which Seonghwa uttered the question.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Depends on how you take it. A confession might be more accurate,” he waited for you to take the final sip of your coffee before continuing, unphased by your unwavering focus, “if I were to be honest, I have been meaning to approach you.”

“Pardon?”

“As you know we have a… common awareness of each other thanks to what is housed under this roof, but ever since we first unknowingly crossed paths… I wanted to speak to you.”

Confused, you did not speak, though the words contained an unparalleled affection within them. What could he possibly mean? You chose to refrain from commenting, your hesitation prompting the vampire to continue.

“Do you remember the most recent opening night? Of the exhibition? I believe you were with someone…” he trailed off, hoping you would continue for him.

“Ah, yes, a friend of mine from university. So?”

“This might sound strange but, I distinctly remember you mentioning a name. An artist from the same era, dubbed as L/N Y/N?”

“Goodness, you overheard that? I am so sorry, it is just that said artist has intrigued me for some time, and I was half-hoping to encounter their work. Maybe it is because our names are the same but still….”

“Elusive, aren’t they?”

“To put it softly, yes. I only vaguely recall seeing… maybe one piece in my lifetime, when I was little, and then… nothing. And there is barely any information on the artist online, let alone libraries and archives.”

“Hm, indeed. I guess that makes two of us…”

“Two of us who are searching?”

“That’s right. It brought me happiness to know that I am not alone in this endeavour.”

“Then we can keep searching together.”

While you were positive that you could not conceal your interest, Seonghwa’s did not go unnoticed either. It was of course possible that he was simply well-versed in political correctness, but the burning depth of his pupils told you otherwise. Enthrallment, the discovery of a kindred spirit, recognition, the rekindling of a bond that had existed at some point long ago - all fantasies that played out in your mind as you returned that look with subtle fervour. You wondered how many people he graced with those charms. How many had succumbed to his influence, becoming a marker on his infinite life path, a fleeting second? How many had his lips known, how many had turned into a decadent treat for a genius man with natural peculiarities? While the researcher part of you was perplexed and aching for answers, the you that was caught in the moment simply let it go on, and the feeling of Seonghwa’s leg brushing against yours, and the pride blooming in your chest as he praised the few articles and papers you had published upon having claimed that he ‘knew some things about you too’ preoccupied you in the most magnificent way.

Naturally, you agreed to meet Seonghwa again. On your journey home, in the privacy of the anonymous metro, immersed in the cacophony of deafening rails and the millions travelling to anywhere, you pressed your phone to your racing heart as the vampire, the man, the beguiling Park Seonghwa sent you a message confirming so. Who knew a simple selection of words could be so captivating?

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

Under the comforting thrum of raindrops on the large umbrella, you walked down the streets of the grey-coloured city, your hand lightly holding onto Seonghwa’s arm while he ensured that both of you were protected from the elements. Despite the dull light and bitterness of the cooling season, Seonghwa appeared radiant, truly timeless with every gesture and stride. The elegant angles of his face that you could tirelessly study stood out against the monotone buildings and overcast skies. His voice drowned out the sound of droplets racing one another to the ground. A miraculous gentleman who appeared in your life much like a portrait, or a landscape - a masterpiece you wanted to explore in every spare moment, and better yet, this masterpiece was equally as open to you as you were to him. 

“...essentially, yes. It is like another nationality. A marker of species isn’t too far isn’t it? Just another line on a stack of documents. Nothing more,” Seonghwa concluded his explanation, pursing his lips for a moment before letting an exhale turned dragon’s breath escape into the afternoon.

“Makes sense. So would that mean there are separate medical papers and treatment too?”

“Well… when regeneration fails us or when a given case is severe enough… yes. Though it is handled by private clinics run by other vampires.”

“There are private clinics?”

“Of course. Often they are connected to donation points too, and that is how we remain on the right side of the law and stay alive,” he nodded to himself, giving you a bittersweet smile when he noticed confusion overtake your gaze. “Blood,” he stated as-a-matter-of-factly, “I mean blood.”

In a nervous stupor, you cleared your throat and focused on a droplet that was hanging onto the edge of the umbrella, right in front of you, all the way until the gentle motion of Seonghwa’s amble provoked its abrupt descent onto the stone under your feet. 

“Ah, yes, I see-”

“If you find this disturbing, we can forget the conversation ever-”

“-I want to know you better, Seonghwa, truly-”

“Careful-”

“Sorry wha-” 

With an extraordinary swiftness, you were tugged abruptly by the arm. Not registering your surroundings, you merely went with the inertia, caught off-guard by the proximity of your face to the vampire’s as he held you against him with the arm that you had previously been resting your own on. A hand that you raised on instinct went limp and landed on Seonghwa’s chest, feeling the thick felted wool of his coat. The ringing of a bell, going farther away from you by the second, incessant but at least waking you up from the blur, was enough for you to put two and two together - a cyclist who thought they owned every part of the street, like always. You sighed.

“Reckless… my apologies I did not mean to-” Seonghwa tried to detangle himself, refusing to remain in your personal space for longer than necessary no matter how much he did want to, but his efforts were reduced to nothing when your hand moved to a hold on his upper arm - reassuring, comfortable, accepting.

“Thank you,” you interrupted, “that bike would have definitely run into me…”

“It’s nothing,” a low chuckle echoed in your ears as Seonghwa peered into your pupils, confidence that had previously wavered out of habitual caution now restored, growing into a pride as you continued to hold onto him, “the man was slow enough for there to be no risk of harm. I hope you are not too startled though.”

“Oh? You have super powers too? Do elaborate,” you jested, resuming your walk.

“I would call it more like… being a finely tuned machine. Can’t say I have bad reaction speed. Though I must say, it was a little challenging pulling you out of the way,” there was an evident intent behind the words. However, you were too curious to pay it any mind, instead preferring to find out their meaning live.

“How so?”

“I think this,” dropping his arm, Seonghwa’s hand reached for yours, and without a moment of hesitation, his fingers were intertwining with yours, his palm pressed against yours, “would be better. You know, for safety.” As if you could ever reject him. This was a fact you had established for yourself with an unprecedented certainty. His gallant disposition, attentiveness all confirmed a care for you that was impossible to ignore. 

There was something picturesque about the present after meeting this wonderful, infinite pool of art and humanity. You found yourself leafing through articles, art books and biographies with a more wistful and sentimental perspective, imagining what it would be like if it were you who was immortalised in the thousands of brushstrokes, or if you were on the other side of the canvas, how would you go about depicting the scenes unfolding before your very eyes. Timelessness - a quality shared between the art you so adored, and the man you had encountered and over the weeks, let your intrigue be transformed into a shy flame of infatuation. Perhaps it was the underlying reason why you did not reject his advances, nor cower in fear of his true nature with which he was upfront. The other, of course, was the search for the mysterious artist, an adventure that fuelled many of your dialogues, and prompted you to spend more time in the library and the archives of your university than you had ever done before - to the point where Seonghwa himself had encouraged you to take a break from your intellectual expeditions and step into the world as a casual observer. So, you let yourself drift; it finally hit you, what scenes your once again tranquil stroll reminded you of, and you smiled to yourself as you recalled the intricacies of the not quite commonly discussed representation of the Impressionist movement. 

‘Rue de Paris, temps de pluie’, painted by Gustave Caillebotte; his most famous work. Not quite as widely discussed, despite still technically being created in the Impressionist era, perhaps due to the meandering through form, realism and reliance on stronger lines rather than broad brushstrokes and the study of light. You did find it fascinating how Caillebotte’s passion for photography had seeped into this piece, however. Much like how, in recent days, you could easily find a way to mention Seonghwa in conversation, be it related to the arts or not. From the subjects in the foreground being slightly out of focus while the middle ground was crystal clear, to how the shapes of some passersby were cropped were all characteristic of photos, rather than paintings, making this particular work all the more dear to you. It was a reflection of life, of behaviour and of what had been daily back in the late nineteenth century.

Was it any different from now, aside from those grand, global topics that historians dedicated their lives to studying? If one were to whittle down to the intricacies, the miniatures that ornamented the span of a human existence, was it so terribly far away from what you were born into, and Seonghwa saw develop and had adopted? How people shielded themselves from the rain with umbrellas, and then used them as a tool to isolate themselves from other urbanites who were in a rush to take a day-long route out of their homes… and back again. The latest silhouettes of dress and accessory; the same rush to be with the times as now.

You felt your companion’s arm move, prompting you to let go and leave your hand hovering as though you were awaiting some kind of change. You bit back an unprecedented sliver of disappointment, only to be caught by surprise once again as you felt the hand settle on the small of your back. Cautious, like you were going to melt from any more pressure than the brush of a feather. A quick glance was enough to determine that you were being studied intently for any sign of discomfort - Seonghwa was ready to pull away at any moment, any sigh, and most definitely at any word. A meek smile settled on your lips, and you shyly used an oncoming stranger as an opportunity to affirm the gesture, stepping towards the vampire, and sensing the confidence of his protective measure be solidified. With glee he followed your every tilt and turn, angling away from the passing form that neither of you could focus on. The touch was electric, somehow monumental despite being so common and barely present. Your mind was on fire, pondering what it would be like to put your head on the elegant man’s shoulder, and let yourself be carried away into a terrific fairy tale.

“This really is a rainy day,”

“Seems quite sunny to me,” you respond with sarcasm, realising only after the fact that your phrase still did retain an element of truth within it. 

Sunshine did not have to be literal. It was easy to see, you just needed to return Seonghwa’s gaze, and watch as another spring flower blossomed in the soul of one you had initially assumed to be so cold, so distant. In the darkest winter was a safe haven that you could not help but lean into, and regardless of what you had initially thought, with him, you felt more human, more safe and alive than ever. He listened without fail to your ramblings, and could easily pick up the ball and balance it with his own musings that you could listen to for many lifetimes.

Lifetimes; immortality, the one concept you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. Well, the latter was technically not true, as Seonghwa had elaborated some few days ago: vampires did age, albeit at such a slow pace that to the run of the mill human being, it was impossible to notice, and if they did, it would be someone very close, and only over a matter of decades. Maybe it was this exact inability that made you want to stay and learn all there could be about the gallerist - you thought that would make you feel like you have been living forever. His wisdom was beautiful. The kindness with which he treated you, akin to that of how a spouse treats their long-time sweetheart with a mellow and comfortable affection, was not something you asked for nor expected, but something which he introduced himself with through every action, progressively more amiable when you allowed him to advance.

“Mm, no wonder I can’t quite look at you,” he mused out loud, dramatically looking off into the distance. You raised an eyebrow, curious about what was going to come after his theatrical pause, “your brightness is unparalleled,” Seonghwa chuckled, satisfied with your sigh and the way in which you pretended to be annoyed, only to dissolve in a mute giggle. “So, I do suggest we get out of the rain for a moment and stop by that book shop over there, shall we?”

Following his hand, you spotted an antique bookshop a few doors down, marked by an iron sign and ornate shop window decorations that glistened with each hit of the dancing droplets. A warm golden light emanated from the inside, the hue comparable to a summer’s day. An odd feeling of deja vu washed over you, as though you had been in this store before, even though this was quite the distance away from your home, not on any of your usual commutes and in a part of town you barely visited aside from the occasional brisk walk. It had been established over a century ago, sporting a historical plaque and detailing original to the era the date on the sign suggested. Suppressing your internal monologue, you simply nodded, fond of Seonghwa’s excitement as he pushed lightly against your back and walked on ahead. If you were any more of a romantic, you would have assumed that the shop was a representation of his heart, but you couldn’t allow yourself to think that way, at least not when you felt heat rise to your cheeks as he whispered your name, openly planning what you could look for amidst the rare editions together. You and him turned into a ‘we’ so naturally, you barely had time to blink. A new brushstroke on a canvas, brave, bold and bright. Impressionist.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

The hypnotising improvisation on a semi-acoustic guitar, followed by a launch back into the theme of a well-known jazz song had you tapping on the counter, unknowingly following every drum beat. The bar turned cosy music venue that Seonghwa had invited you out to was proving to be every bit a wonder of the world, and paradise inside of the otherwise gloomy city which had been plagued with miserable weather and lack of daylight for atrociously long. The classy establishment was a well known favourite among the vampires residing in the city, especially those aligned with a more bohemian and art-focused lifestyle. Critics, painters, collectors, musicians, poets alike all gathered to share ideas and energy, and reminisce days long gone, while the band - one that had not changed since the bar’s establishment, revived legendary pieces one after another. 

With ease, Seonghwa had ordered your favourite drink, having memorised it after your many outings that had smoothly transitioned into dates and shared nights. He remembered every detail about you, holding each one tenderness. Your lover gazed at you as he ended a conversation with a fellow collector who had recently come to town for a few days, stretching out his hand until it just touched yours, guiding it to lie flat on the counter. Seonghwa’s palm, still retaining a pleasant coolness despite him having had a couple of drinks of his own, was another reassurance that in the buzz of the venue, you still had your person by your side. Feeling his digits tap and then proceed to brush the back of your hand, you hummed in contentment, and let your eyes travel over the beautiful vampire, who leaned back, tempting you just for fun, knowing full well that you were wholly his, and even when you turned to look elsewhere, it was his face you saw in the crowd, it was his voice that rang in your ears, it was his touch that ghosted over your skin. 

The bustier from Alexander McQueen, the gorgeous flowy shirt with ruffles and cuts so tastefully sewn and executed, the statement necklace that was worthy of being displayed at a gallery and must be the envy of many, the high heeled boots that were concealed by elegant trousers - Seonghwa was your favourite work of art, and you could never deny it. Each one of his gestures was worthy of marvel, and the care with which he approached everything - even the tending to the items which he painstakingly selected and matched for tonight made your heart skip a beat. It was boggling how each garment and accessory was either an original, or a one of a kind piece. But at the same time, you did not expect anything less of Seonghwa.

He must be impossible to depict in paintings, you concluded, shamelessly staring at your lover’s face, from the shape of his nose, to the plushness of his lips, to the waviness of his night-like inky locks. You bet many had tried, but judging by the lacking evidence in the art world, they must have failed, miserably, to create something more immortal and invincible than the model and muse. You understood them, and Seonghwa gave no signs of being perturbed. 

“So, was that the intent behind our spontaneous trip to this bar tonight?” you gestured at your surroundings, taking another sip from your ornate glass. A sharp exhale accompanied a contrasting soft answer:

“Not at all,I had the business sorted a couple of days ago, and tonight was a lucky crossing of paths to secure the deal,” cryptic as ever, Seonghwa only alluded to the matter at hand.

The matter, or how he had referred to it as ‘business’ was a particular artwork that he had been hunting, by the elusive artist you had been investigating, first in your lonesome, and then joining forces with Seonghwa. Apparently, one of the pieces, by some stroke of unimaginable luck, had been kept safe in the private collection of a ‘Mister Kim’, at least that was how he had been initially introduced to you. Until you put two and two together, and when the very well dressed and styled character had entered the bar and made a beeline towards your partner in artistic musings and romance, recognised the man as a world-famous designer and fashion icon, Kim Hongjoong. And of course, another vampire and kind soul in one. 

Their conversation had happened outside of your earshot; whether it was on purpose or just so happened to unfold that way was for your ruminations to determine, but you did overhear enough to figure out that this was a portrait, a never seen work, and was completed by the artist who as it had turned out had been closer with Seonghwa than you had initially thought. 

“Seems to be very important, and not just in a ‘collector’ sense…” you trailed off, watching as the ice in your drink cracked, “is this why you were interested, you know, back then?”

“If I were to be honest, darling, I was, and still am, a lot more interested in you. The artist was something of an excuse to get a conversation going. And I do hope,” Seonghwa turned and sauntered towards you, “this conversation does not end.” 

Even though you were sitting on one of the bar stools, the heels and stance still left him some room to look downwards, and his sultry expression, orbs glinting at you through dark lashes left you transfixed. In moments such as this, you hated to be mortal. There were so many things that you could not possibly know, and no matter how hard you would try to comprehend the vastness of the angelic man’s mind, you would always remain theoretical, and accept the grand majority of intricacies as axiom.

“I hope so too,” your voice barely rose above a whisper as his gloved hand landed on your neck, gliding upwards to caress your jawline.

“I’m so glad I found you,” his thoughts were elsewhere, you were sure of it, and yet, his gaze remained unwavering, “my eternal love”. Lips stained with bittersweet worship, the words stumbled from them to strike you repeatedly in the heart, forcing it to lose its rhythm. He was regarding you like he had stumbled upon a priceless treasure, a divinity, a paradise. Something far from you and from this planet, but by Seonghwa’s careful selection, etched in your features.

Were you the embodiment of something greater for him? You would not consider yourself to be a model example of a human being, neither were you a pretty statue to display in an exhibition. You were you, but Seonghwa kept on convincing you that it was exactly this that had captivated him and showed him a new beginning. Did you wish to believe that? Of course. But a vampire who was hundreds of years old could keep a grand variety of secrets beyond your understanding, even if he were to exclaim them right in front of you and sketch them out. His eternal love - your version of eternity, or his? A life the duration of a butterfly’s abstract dance to the heavens.

“Love?” he called out to you, eyebrows knitted in concern due to your prolonged silence. You had set your drink down, and were staring at the shine of the glossy chrome silver and pearl on Seonghwa’s necklace. “Talk to me, say anything.”

“I- hm. I think I am just tired. Yeah, that must be it. Tired so I am overthinking, no worries. I’ll just be right here and-”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you tilted your head, noting how Seonghwa immediately straightened out, and instead of attempting to tower over you stepped over to the side to set a protective hand over yours.

“This is a majority vampire bar, full of unfamiliar individuals, this whole deal with the artwork is up in the air and-”

“First of all, I don’t care. Second, you are here with me. And third, I want to trust in the fact that you would not do anything foolish nor harmful. Am I right in my evaluation?” you uttered, still not quite able to look into Seonghwa’s infinite pools of brilliant sienna and dark brown.

“I- I am honoured, but that still does not detract from the fact that we can go get some air and come back. Shall we?”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to. Hell, need to. Let us have a quick wander?”

“...I’d like that.”

In no time, the winter air hit your cheeks and you were wrapping yourself as tightly as you could in your oversized coat. In your ears the pleasant sound of the vampire’s heels rang out, echoed by the stunning road onto which you were spat out by the heavy black front door of the bar. Warm-toned streetlights liberally decorated the sidewalks and painted the night in honey, gold and copper accents. Reflections of an artificial summer in the puddles and winter chill. Downright magical. Seonghwa seeked out your hand, holding it tight and guiding it into the pocket of his own coat, smirking when you raised an eyebrow. 

“What?”

“Nothing at all.”

You were certain that you were walking through a landscape painting, every element captured by your vision falling into its rightful place, harmonising with the rest. The mumbling and music was long gone, only to be replaced by conversation of other late city explorers and the occasional rumbling of a car lazily rolling past. 

“Pissarro.”

“Hm?” Seonghwa kept looking ahead, but squeezed your hand to ask for you to continue.

“Boulevard Montmartre at Night. Painted in 1897, no?” you pointed at the surroundings with a tilt of the chin.

“Ah, indeed! Your perceptiveness never ceases to amaze me.”

“Well, thanks to you I got to see the original, so how could I not make the visual analogy?” you nudged his shoulder, earning a chuckle.

The painting was the only example of a landscape at night from the artist Camille Pissarro, making it all the more special despite it being part of a series of 14 views of the same location. Snow, rain, fog, morning, varying seasons, but only one glimmering night. It was one of the works that Seonghwa had managed to provide for your studies, resulting in a more than impressive academic outcome. Like Pissarro kept on painting the vista, your lover kept on giving, never asking for anything more than for you to share your hours with him, something you did not need to be prompted to do anyways.

“...I’m sorry I cannot reveal more than I do, at least not just yet,” he apologised, as though what he was committing was the greatest crime known to humanity and the supernatural.

As you looked up at the starry night sky, you swore you had heard these words before, uttered by the same voice, the same fingers interlocked with yours. A stabbing sensation in your cranium made you gasp, but you regained your composure quickly enough to not make it a priority for either of you. At the same time, Seonghwa’s expression altered to a semblance of… hope? Longing? You could not pinpoint it, but one of the many glowing dots above you clearly landed in his shining orbs, and he eagerly waited.

Waited for longer than you could realise in your present state.

On their own accord, your lips moved, forcing out a subconscious acknowledgement, previously suppressed. You swore the phrase belonged to another being, but it was as refreshing as the breeze tousling Seonghwa’s locks.

“I know. I can wait too.”

“Soon, my love.”

“I-I know.”

“I miss you.”

“I-” vision growing hazy, you reached to the vampire for support, which he readily provided, “I- too.”

One blink - oil paints decorated your hands, and those alluring eyes were staring back at you from a canvas. Another blink - Seonghwa was repeating your name, pressing his cheek against yours as he shielded you from falling into darkness with his strong arms.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

Your office was inviting and offered a secure haven: a collection of neutral and wooden tones, with dashes of greenery to relax the eyes. From a potted ivy plant settled on the top of a large wall-length shelving unit to an indoor palm tree enjoying the rays in its designated corner, the room was a miniature paradise. You ran your hands over the thick birch desk, cautiously avoiding the stack of documents you had arranged for yourself to go through this day. Artwork restoration reports, contracts, exhibition plans for years to come… everything you thought you would never see, and yet it was right here in your palms.

Time moved slower, or at least that was how you began to perceive it now that it was in abundance. A fountain that did not cease to bestow gifts upon you - again, something you would have never imagined prior to the curious series of events that were your previous life unfolding the way they did. One fateful meeting, and you were a changed person, staring into the horizon and labelling it as a continuation rather than as a termination of all you could achieve. The world was your oyster, and loving dedication was the price. But when the price was so sweet, and so easy, who were you to say no? If you had to pick a concern, it would be the bandages and binding on your right arm; friction from the sleeve of the turtleneck and blazer you had worn today applying uncomfortable pressure to the delicate wound concealed within. 

You stood up from the leatherbound office chair, adjusting your clothes and stepping to the window behind you to look out at the garden belonging to the gallery - a recent expansion. Grand, regal, and as the papers had emphasised, now returned to its rightful owner. You wondered just how much of the city had belonged to vampires at least for a portion of time, and you had no doubt that you would be making more discoveries soon, but for the time being, you were happy with the re-acquisition, or as Seonghwa had called it: your ‘turning’ gift. A particularly strong shift of the arm made you wince, and your other hand shot to nurse your sore arm.

“I’m so sorry darling, does it still hurt?” Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had slipped into the office, and immediately rushed towards you, concern painting his beautiful face through furrowed brows and a tiny scowl.

“N-no, barely. The sweater is silly-”

“Let’s not disregard ailments, shall we?” your partner gingerly lifted your arm, and after gaining permission through a few lethargic nods, pushed the sleeve upwards to reveal the bandages, “I- really, we need to apply the ointment again, that must be it-”

“Seonghwa-”

“Work can wait, I just need to-”

“My love-” Seonghwa paused his ramblings to stare back at you, puzzled, “it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Literally just a bite, isn’t it?” you smiled, the action instantly being mirrored, albeit with a tinge of remaining worry.

“Mm, perhaps I am overreacting, I can’t help it,” your thoughts were numbed by the silken touch of his lips on the back of your hand, wool against cotton as he pulled you into an embrace, “it should heal well once you get used to your new form, I am sure of it,” his tresses tickled your nose, but you ignored it, instead letting your head fall against him.

You stood almost completely still aside from the rocking side to side that was habitual for you both. A lulling motion, one that either of you revealed only to each other. A secret reserved for intimate, loving moments such as this. You shook your head in amusement and buried your nose in Seonghwa’s sweater, inhaling the aroma of his sweet perfume, recalling ‘Love and Pain’ - the painting that had marked the tightening of the invisible string tying you together. Or was it? Coincidentally, on the wall behind your lover was the real inception of your union, one that you had forgotten from one lifetime to the next. A portrait. The one that Seonghwa had been chasing, and what had been his decades-long mission came to an end.

Signed with your own hand, were initials of your name and the year of completion of the painting. None other than the beloved collector and muse, Park Seonghwa, who had posed for you, or rather a version of you, and ever since then, you were the only one on his mind. You had been the master both of the arts and of his fate.

“Please, I am embarrassed…” your partner mumbled, settling for futile attempts to position you in such a way that you would be looking out at the garden, but to no avail. Poking him playfully at the side, you induce a halt, and question him:

“What is there to be embarrassed about? That’s you. Painted by me.”

“Exactly. And you have it in your office, of all places.”

“Well I can’t exactly have you, in the flesh, on display all the time and I would like a work of art around here-”

“Shh-”

“Don’t shush me, Park. Be grateful I don’t keep the sketches out too.”

In all honesty, He would not mind if you did. You could do anything, and the vampire would adore and honour it. Whether it was in your blood or in his nature, he had never regretted almost losing himself in your favour. In your last life, he had gone against all rules set up by vampires, playing against what he swore was the devil in order to have the sliver of a chance to start again and, this time not lose you. Had his plan not succeeded, it was highly probable that he would have been erased from this planet too. But he would rather call himself a masochist than be law-abiding when it came to you.

“Next, you’ll be threatening me with a showcase of just my face-”

“What if I do?” you quipped, pulling back to boop his nose with yours, “I think it would look very pretty. Besides, now that I remember my apparent mastery of the visual arts, can’t I be a tiny bit proud, hm?”

“I would be terribly disappointed if you weren’t. Now, may I put that ointment on you?”

As if you could refuse those sparkling eyes. Promptly following him to the loveseat, which unfortunately for Seonghwa was situated right under the portrait, you sat down and waited. Your partner rushed to the medical cupboard - another new addition installed exclusively to support you as you were getting used to the vampiric nuances in your day to day. With well-practised motions, the required kit was in his hands, and in a blink, set down on the plush cushioning of the miniature sofa. You held back a chuckle as you saw the pout you so loved appear as he focused on unwinding the bandage with utmost care. Before you could feel any hurt, Seonghwa would already let go, or alter the angle at which he was tugging on the material. As soon as the plaster was peeled, you were met with the reason for your eternity and reawakening.

Two deep punctures, still a little irritated, not quite healed, but nevertheless a marking of your future and something you regarded with fondness. Wounds did not hurt when they were merely physical, especially not when you had someone who had bound their immortality to yours to tend to them. Seonghwa bit his lower lip, discontented with the ache as though he could feel it too, and took numerous pauses while cleaning up the wound to glance at you. 

“I’ll be applying the ointment now, tell me if it stings, okay?”

“Okay,” you knew it wouldn’t. You had never heard a man be so adamant on checking ingredients at an apothecary before following Seonghwa after your first appointment as a vampire. But just to appease him, you followed this small spoken routine. 

“You know… I was scared,” his voice was barely audible, and he could not look at you.

“What were you scared of?”

“Losing you again.”

“Well, I am here, aren’t I?”

Even before you were aware of Seonghwa, let alone the truth behind the portrait, all the roads still led to the same resolution. The arts, art history. Virtually synonymous, for without creation, there would not be the past, and without the study of the past, there would not be the celebration and respect of creation. Finally, you understood the beauty of evolution that Seonghwa had undergone all while remaining the same vulnerable yet legendary figure, dedicated to his vision of the arts, having recollected your own. 

“So many things could have gone wrong,” Seonghwa’s mind was reeling from the sheer terror of possibility. He had taken advantage of his high social standing as an aristocrat and pulled rank to avoid waiting for any ritual guides to step in - it was not the first time, but still only the second. And both cases were related to you. 

The first time might have been a foolish decision in retrospect, but considering the dire circumstances the extreme solution was the only one. With one foot crossing to the afterlife he was combatting the reapers, and was not going to let go of you even if it meant being pulled in. This time, when you had approached him a number of nights ago with your final agreement to his tentative proposal and kissed his ruminations away, he was ready. Years of study were not going to waste, after all. And yet when he studied the same irises as those from a time long gone, when he held the same hands, his blood ran even colder. What a gambling man he had been back then. The procedure to regift life to you had been risky, and Seonghwa, having never practised those elements of the dark arts bestowed upon his kind, had been taking shot after shot in the dark. How dare he play with your being like that? How dare he hold your existence on a sinful scale?

“But they didn’t.”

No they did not. Your confidence in him had aided considerably, he had to admit. The positioning of his fangs was perfect, and he had memorised all incantations down to the inflections. Second time a charm, but much more anxiety-inducing. Turning was not the same as revival, either. He could not stop himself from imagining the many scenarios of where he would have gone wrong, and cemented your identity only as a name on manuscripts, dissertation, paintings and reports. 

“Even the ritual, what if you did not remember-”

“I would love you just the same. Whether I had all my memories or not. That much I can assure you of. That is why I trusted you in the first place, Seonghwa.”

You did not need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. All you could do was suggest a brighter palette, and be by his side no matter what colour scheme he were to decide on. It was an artist’s duty to know when to set the tools aside and consider a painting finished. The luxury of a collector was to live through many paintings, unify the souls contained in each and sustain a chronology of expression. The keepers, the scholars, made to observe change rather than induce it directly. This was why you were all the more grateful for Seonghwa daring to change your mortal fate not once but twice, risking himself and his image in your favour.

When your partner was satisfied with his medical care, he hummed to notify you and began to clear up, at least until you placed a weak hand on his leather-clad thigh to gain his full attention. He searched for a hint in your features, eyes darting across your face at lightning speed. Relief came when you grinned brightly, whispering sincere gratitude.

Impressionism - the movement and path made by legends. A rejection of traditional practice, a new vision and interpretation of the outside world in the hues of the soul. Light, reality, immediate action. A breath that reset the arts, magnificent and radical for the time, and now, much adored. From its conception to its establishment, you were there to witness and fall in love, and now could look back at the beauty that had bloomed. His irises, your favourite colour. The speckles of various shades, your favourite details. You stared into Seonghwa’s eyes and did not dare blink. Your favourite impression.

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[gdinneroll]

spn au angel eddie and hunter steve

Steve and Max each hold up their guns to the barn doors as they slam open and a man enters. It can’t actually be a man, can it? He’s pretty as all hell, with dark curls and porcelain skin, and big brown doe eyes framed by dark lashes. Neither hunter hesitates to load bullets into the guy, who seems to be completely unaffected–he steps over salt lines, sigils, and devil’s traps like he’s en pointe in ballet. 

If he wasn’t supposed to kill it, Steve would fuck this thing in a heartbeat.

The ceiling lights explode over the creature as he passes them, and he seems to hardly blink. Max has given up on the gun and throws one of their demon knives, which lands in the creature’s chest. Not in the heart, but close enough. He doesn’t flinch, and Steve feels his heart drop for a moment, before hammering in his chest. The hair on his neck stands on end, he wipes the thin sheen of sweat from his forehead. Steve turns to look for something else, and when he glances back, the thing is already there. 

Shorter than anticipated, Steve’s got five, six inches on the guy, who is currently taking the knife from his own chest like it’s a particularly annoying string on his clothes. Leather jacket over a plain purple t-shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, and what kind of monster is immune to all this shit and still looks that fuckable? Steve’s not a massive fan, so he sneers at the thing and practically snarls at him.

“What are you?”

The man smiles softly, and speaks in a smooth, (gods, he’s fuckin’ pretty) perfect voice.

“I am the one who raised you from perdition.”

Steve absentmindedly raises his right hand towards his left bicep, where a thin-fingered handprint scar has laid ever since he arose from his grave. Max goes to sneak up on him with a baseball bat, which the man catches and presses two fingers to her forehead, and she starts to drop. The creature lets go of the bat and breaks Max’s fall before she hits the ground. He lays her gently down and turns to Steve.

“I have to speak with you, Stephen.”

“Like hell you do!”

Doe-eyes watches with vague confusion as Steve kneels next to Max and checks for her pulse, until she begins to snore and he gives a sigh of relief.

“Your friend is fine, Stephen.”

Steve grumbles, half-heartedly turning to the thing.

“She’s my sister. And don’t call me that. Who the hell are you?”

The creature holds out a hand and Steve slaps it away, standing up himself and glaring down pretty-boy.

“My name is Eridanus. I’m an angel of the Lord.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“You don’t believe me.”

It isn’t a question.

Steve rolls his eyes, and snorts.

“No, I don’t. God’s not real and neither are angels.”

“That’s your problem, Stephen, you have no faith.”

Thunder cracks, and the shadow of wings appear against the wall of the barn. Steve scoffs.

“Some angel you are. You burned that woman’s eyes out.”

Eridanus bows their head solemnly.

“My mistake. I warned her not to gaze upon my true visage. Certain people can. I thought you were one of them.”

“What visage is this? Wannabe rockstar?”

The angel picks a piece of fluff off of their leather jacket.

“This is a vessel. She had already abandoned it and gave me permission to continue to use it.”

[touchoffleece]

Sulemio Week day 3 & 4

Day 3 both prompts kind of stumped me, as I couldn't figure out a composition I liked. I ended up liking the idea of a shot of what I imagined to be their drinks and keychains, except Cool-San got cut off a bit in the end version of this. Day 4 Me: Hhhhmm what could be a fun take on Supernatural and a Mortal or a Band/Rockstar AU... Inspiration to Draw: What about the classic Vampire/Hu- Inspiration to Draw: ZELDA!! Me: That doesn't make any sense, a Rockstar AU sounds fun mayb- Inspiration to Draw: Zelda AU, you coward! Miorine as Navi! Suletta as Link!! Get to drawing it's this or nothing and you know it! Me *starting to google navi refences*: ...You're right. Having finished drawing the zelda au doodle, I'm really glad I went through and drew it, it was a lot of fun trying to think of how to even convey it's suppose to be Miorine, and Suletta as a link feels so right. I only wish I had more time to do it justice, but the close up will have to do until I can.

[wolfie180g]

Chapter Eighteen of Sink or Swimchesters is now up!

Chapter 18 is up and ready to go :)

I had to put Dean's part in the next chapter because I wanted to flesh it out more. This chapter is already chock full of events, I hope y'all like it :)

[otaku-dragon-lover]

Borrowers, Greeed, and A Chance Encounter

Tldr: A pair of cursed siblings run into a monster hunter, one who isn't as human as he lets on.

Why yes this is inspired by that one Supernatural g/t fic series.

Okay, so this wasn't how Jonas expected his day to go.

Now! Before anyone judges him, he hadn't thought his actions through! He'd just seen… something and reacted!

Ugh… maybe he should start from the beginning.

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

It all started right when he checked in, funnily enough. The moment he'd entered the dingy motel room, his senses picked up on… something. Well, multiple somethings was more accurate.

Tiny lights shone from within the walls of the Phoenix Roost motel, like little beacons resting behind the dull red wallpaper. He'd blinked a couple times, shaking his head to rid himself of the sight.

That was his sixth sense; it didn't really have a name, but his was basically empathy, so he's been sticking with that. It lets him sense the feelings and desires of any (living) thing around him. At least, within about a twenty foot radius? He'd never really tested it. But, he'd mused as he set his bag on the bed, it's probably just mice or something.

Yeah… "or something" alright.

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

The second time he hadn't seen anything - he'd heard it.

It was two days later. He'd been sitting on the bed, gray sheets that he's pretty sure used to be white pooling on his lap. Sitting on top of this was his (borrowed) laptop, opened and glowing as he'd begun his research. A black trenchcoat had been resting beside him, placed in such a way that any passing glances couldn't spot the scabbard holding his weapon of choice.

…Okay saying that makes him sound paranoid, but after everything he's been through it's warranted!

After several hours, he'd stretched back and yawned. Several points in his arms and back popped as the stiffness had been worked out. One particularly loud pop from his wrist made his knuckles knock against the wall behind him.

Now, this in and of itself wasn't unusual. Under normal circumstances it wouldn't have even been noteworthy.

Buuuuut then his ears picked up a yelp from the wall behind him, the noise so sudden and close that he'd flinched back in shock. It wasn't even very loud, most people probably wouldn't have heard it.

Of course, he wasn't exactly "most people". His heightened sense of hearing made it child's play to pick up the noise.

He'd blinked a few times, not quite processing what he'd heard. That… that had to've been some tennant nextdoor, right? But- No, he knew for a fact that the room hadn't been rented out. He would've heard someone long before this incident. Plus, him hitting the wall like that wasn't nearly loud enough to be heard from the other room.

Then there was what his empathy picked up. The burst of, fear-panic-don'tgetcaught-wasIcaught? Was all the more unusual.

His first thought had been, 'What, is this guy on the run or something?' Which… oh boy had he hoped that wasn't the case.

Either way, he'd just scared the daylights out of someone. The least he could do was apologize.

Shifting to his knees, he'd crawled over and leaned close to the wall. With his ear pressed against it, he began speaking, tone loud enough to be heard from the room over.

"U-Um, hello? I-If you can hear me, I-I'm sorry for scaring y-you."

He'd waited a few seconds for a response, but after hearing nothing he sighed and returned to his research.

He had a monster to catch, after all.

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

Which leads him to today. When his already weird life took a turn for the batshit.

It was about… 7:30 in the evening, and he'd been at a desk placed near the room's window. Spread out on it was a large map of the town and surrounding desert. In his right hand had been a pen, which he'd been mindlessly tapping against a small notebook. His left hand - wrapped tightly in black fabric - was resting in his lap, occasionally twitching.

The day… hadn't been great, from the start a storm had rolled in the night before. Which forced him to ride around town in the rain (the motorcycle wasn't such a good idea, in hindsight), searching for any leads on the monster. This mostly boiled down to… well, asking if anyone noticed anything strange recently.

The questioning was a total bust. For starters, there weren't many people out due to the weather, and those that were weren't any help! No substantial leads jumped out to him, and it made him feel like he was going in circles-!

The feeling of uselessness had nearly drowned him, knowing that this thing was out there - that people could be attacked or killed at any moment - while he was here chasing his own tail. It was infuriating.

Getting back on track, he'd been trying to narrow down possible places where the thing could be hiding. It had to be somewhere relatively close to town, but not close enough for anyone to spot it. Unfortunately, being an old desert town in Arizona made this harder. Not to mention all the old buildings from around the time of the gold rush, and don't even get him started on the mine-!

It was then that he'd seen it out of the corner of his eye, a flash of movement accompanied by the patter of small feet.

By the time he'd processed this, his left hand had already shot forward and snagged the thing. His body was dragged along, scrambling for purchase as his hand closed around… whatever that this was.

His grip was probably too tight, but that wasn't his main concern.

It had reared it's ugly head.

It had a name, but he didn't think it really… fit anymore. It's original consciousness was long gone, what he was currently stuck with was just the lingering remains. So… they weren't technically the same. If that made sense?

Even if It was just a husk, it still terrified him.

Ĉ̸̮͕̹̪̖̀͘͜r̸̻̽̈́̌̈͘u̸̡̝̦̟̙͛͆̏͒̌̈̅̈́͆͊̐͊ş̷̤̙̙̯͍̜̩̼͉̜̞̬̝̱̽h̷͈̲̒͌͆́͘͘ ̴̡̨͔͇͈̲̘̼̻̗̫͙̻͖̼̅̏̀̇̌̀̇͑͒̋͑͝ͅͅḯ̴̹͇̦̙̜͈̝̹͎̳̭͙t̶̡̢̞̗͎̩̦̱̺̠̜̦̪̤̜̑̈́̈́͑́̉͂͐͂͛͂̉͒͠͠.

'Nonononono!' He'd panicked, fighting for control of his own body, 'Not now! Why now?!'

Ş̷̡̺̯͔̣̞̮̬̩͍̝̫̪̖̰͐̇̽̐̋̅͘͝ư̶̜̫͕̤͕͋̎c̷̰̮͎̀͛͂͐̽͌͐͋͐̂̚h̵̢̙̫̺̺̲̱̦̻̦͇̜̤̓͛ ̷̢̨̨̧͔̫̰̲̣͈̙͇̙̭͓̣͂͗̅̒͋̔͆a̶̟̒̅̆̓̈́͑̂̈́̒͐͑̂ ̸̧̛̬͈̪́̚͝f̷̨̡̨͇̯̲̪̰̦̺̣̖̝̥̭̲͆̊̀̓̂̎̍̆͛̏̋͘͜͝ȩ̷̡̢̢̧̛̱̜̥̝͕͉̗͓̯̯̩̅͆̌͗̾ȩ̸̩͖̳̠͖̮̘̝̺͈͎̱̤͖͐͋̄͜ͅb̵̨̹̥̖̰̮̯͔̦̟͓͉͚̝̈́̀̎̋̈͂̍͊́̈́́͆͗̌̚͜͝ĺ̴̢͍̫̩͔̪͈͚̥̖̝̺̦͇̈̕ͅę̸̼̣̹͒̆̓̽̋̐̄̌̕ ̴͓̺͔̱͖̥͚̤͖̟̗͆͋͘͜͜ĉ̵̢̢̟͉̻̘̮̼̤̜̣̟̼̙̙̹͐͐͛̿͊́̈̕r̵̛͔̬̺̖̮͕͋͌̄̾é̴̢̨̛̱͉̼͇̞̄̏̅̌̈͛̅͗͂͘͝͝a��̢̡̗̝̘̂ẗ̴̙̹͐́̏̋̈́̒̈́̌̍͠ṵ̴̡̰͓̙͍̹̼̺͕͇̳̯͔̗̖͐̚r̷̼̈́̅̈́̂͛ê̶̢̼͍͇͎̗̳̝̞͕̟̗̜̙̜̈́͜ͅ.̶̢̠̰͚̲͍̹͇̥̥̣͎͛͆̑̎͑͌̍̀̋̆

He'd felt his hold grow tighter, he gritted his teeth as he tried to pry the out-of-control limb open, 'Fuck off.'

D̵͈̞̟̣̺̹̤̺͉̬̞̮̱̲̩̭͐͋́̀̿̏̈́̀̍̍̔̄̚e̸̖̞͔̮͚̞̖͈̰͋̊̐s̸̳͍̐̅t̷̜̖̤̬̮͍̫̱̩̹͖̞͉͉̝̖̻̚ŗ̷̣̲͇̩̥̼͇̩͎̗̘̿̅̂̓̀͐̐̈́̈́̓̈́͊͘̚͝͝ͅö̸̢͈͚̰̂̄͆͒͆̇͊̏̋̃͛̔͘y̶̔̾̈̆̄̆̏̋ͅ ̵̧̧̧̬̦̜̣͖̯͚̦̣̼̻̰̮͊͌̂͒͐͆͑͛͜i̸̛̩̤͉̖̳͍̖̪͖͓̤̩̠͚͛͛͆̓̇̇̈́̏̚̚ţ̷̟̺̯͙͕͙̳̟͖̼̫̪͓̹̒̾́̎́̑͘͜.̷̱̱͕͔̰̘̤͖̼̦̜̖̫͉̟̒̀̈́͌́͊̓̃̆͒

'No,' He'd growled at It, slowly wrestling his hand into relaxing, 'you don't get to control what I do! So. Back. Off!'

With that final command, the hand suddenly went limp, the poor creature held within dropping like a stone. Jonas panicked, and quickly swooped his other hand under them.

He felt the glamour he'd set up upon entering town flicker, fading after a few feeble attempts to stabilize. The more… unusual aspects of his appearance becoming easily seen.

The very human gasp he heard upon it's landing nearly made him jump out of his skin. His eyes locked on the tiny figure, shock and horror filling him as he took it's - no his - features in.

The humanoid figure was on his hands and knees in Jonas' palm, gasps for air that wouldn't have broken a faint whisper emanating from him. The little guy's skin was deathly pale - but Jonas couldn't tell if it was from fear, or lack of sun exposure. A curtain of dark brown hair obscured his face, and there was no way Jonas was moving the guy.

The guy was wearing home-made clothes - not to say they were bad or anything! Actually, if Jonas didn't know any better he'd say they were professionally made! The blue long-sleeved shirt looked like something he'd find in a clothing store, and… were those jeans? The tiny bag looks good too. Heck, even the "shoes" looked nice.

Speaking of, there's a good reason he called them "shoes".

Outside of the bipedalism, clothes, and hair… that was where the similarities ended. For starters, the tiny man's legs were bent like a dog's, ending in four-toed feet decked out with sharp claws.

'Digitigrade. Helps them move around quicker.' He could help noting, this in spite of his still very present horror at - y'know, nearly crushing someone.

Thin (at least from his prospective) strips of leather were fashioned into shoes, wrapping around his feet snugly like a tiny snake. Thinking about it now, yeah it made sense. Normal shoes probably wouldnt've worked with this guy's anatomy.

Moving on, the guy also had a tail. It wasn't some thin little thing like a rat or mouse, it looked like it had some decent muscle on it (at least for it's size). There was a line of… fur? hair? running down the top of it as well (extra warmth, maybe?). Jonas could also feel several pinpricks around where the guy's fingers were, claws?

'Could help with balance and climbing…'

Eventually the guy's breathing sounded less… bad, it still sounded way too shallow but considering the circumstances… yeah Jonas wasn't gonna rag on him.

He felt him shift and - wow did that feel weird. Like - holy shit, he was holding an entire person right now whatthefuck-!

A person that he'd nearly killed, because he couldn't control It. Couldn't keep It from taking over his own damn body!

God he was pathetic; and he thought he could save them? That he could handle this all by himself? Hah, what a joke. He couldn't even control the parasite that he was stuck with!

Pain-fear-confused-howamIalive?

His self-deprecating thoughts were brought to a screeching halt as light blue met brown.

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

Sam was confident that he (and to a lesser extent his brother) had the worst luck ever.

Before today, the most obvious evidence for this was their curse. Him and his brother Dean were shrunken and turned into… whatever you wanted to call them (Dean often joked about them being Borrowers, but Sam didn't see the resemblance). It had happened a decade ago, and the duo had been forced to survive in the motel on their own ever since. They didn't know what'd happened to their dad, the man was long gone when they'd woken up, and there was no way they could've gone after him. Not at their current size.

It wasn't all bad, as Dean had pointed out numerous times, they still had each other at least. Plus, they'd met a few people sharing their stature (but they didn't look as… unique as the Winchesters; their appearance resembling a human, just… smaller) who'd taught them a few tricks to help them survive. Even then though, they were pretty much left on their own.

That was probably because of their height amongst… other reasons. Himself especially was taller than the other tiny people, they guessed he was a little over half a foot tall. The others they'd met, by contrast, were around… four inches tall at most? Dean was shorter than him, being just under six inches, but even he was taller than the average wall person.

The past few days had been… weird. The new tenant had nearly scared the daylights out of him several times, the kid always seeming to know his general location. He still hadn't told Dean about the knocking incident - about the teenager apologizing for scaring him. He hadn't responded, standing motionless until he heard the kid move.

Under normal circumstances, he would've stayed far away from the teen's room after that. Sadly, the motel was in the middle of a dry spell. Almost no people had visited in the past few weeks, meaning their food supply was getting dangerously low. On top of that, Dean had gotten injured fighting off a rat, preventing him from going on supply runs.

Sam knew his brother was beating himself up about it, he'd had to stop him from sneaking out numerous times before. It had taken many promises ("Of course I'll be careful." "I won't get caught don't worry.") and more than a couple bribes, but he'd finally persuaded Dean to stay in their room until he'd healed.

Now though? Sitting on his knees in the palm of a giant, the two of them staring at each other with wide eyes? Some small part of him definitely wished his brother was here.

But, looking at him now, he noticed that the kid looked… different? From the few times Sam had seen him, the younger Winchester knew generally what he looked like: messy short blond hair, light blue eyes, a young face, and tan skin. His clothing choices were… interesting for a place like this; a black trenchcoat with white trimming that looked several sizes too big, a white turtle neck, jeans, and black hiking boots.

Then he saw the guy's appearance… flicker? a few times, before settling on something different.

Now the guy's hair looked white, almost seeming to glow under the waning sunlight. He watched the kid open his mouth like he was about to speak, only to close it a second later, but it was more than long enough to catch sight of several abnormally sharp teeth. There were also faint scars on his face, the most obvious one being on the bridge of his nose.

He felt the kid's pulse pounding erratically beneath him, as if the teen's panic wasn't obvious enough just from looking at him. The skin beneath him was now several shades paler; Sam could hear quick and shallow breaths, the breeze caused by them ruffling his hair.

He was also shaking, which made the younger Winchester really grateful for his tail. Said appendage twitched, curling around his legs under the human's scrutiny.

The human who - not even ten minutes ago- nearly crushed him, nearly killed him with an ease that made Sam's skin crawl. The helplessness of his situation was made horrendously clear in an instant. The kid's hand had snatched him up quicker than he'd expected, moving so fast that he hadn't been able to react.

Now he was sore, bruised, and his fate was in the literal hands of a giant.

The two of them stared at each other for what felt like ages, the kid - Sam assumed - sizing him up as much as he was.

"I-I'm-"

"Uh-"

Sam and the kid blinked, both of them looking at each other in surprise.

The teen blushed, seeming embarrassed as his voice rippled through the Winchester's body, "O-Oh, g-go ahead."

The smaller man winced at the volume, making the kid duck his head in shame.

Well, this was an interesting turn of things. He rolled his eyes, fear abating the longer he went without being hurt. The kid's awkward stuttering helped, that and his expression made Sam think of a puppy… or maybe a baby mouse.

"For starters, don't talk so loud, okay?" He replied, raising his voice so the teen could hear him. He was a little surprised by how quickly he found his voice, slowly standing as the kid's shaking steadied a bit. He adjusted his duffel bag as he balanced, gripping the strap for some form of support.

The kid nodded slightly, voice much quieter now, "R-Right. I-I could hear y-you fine b-by the way."

The tiny man nodded, glancing around before repeating himself, "Can you put me down?"

"O-Oh, s-sure!" He blinked before looking hesitant, "…A-Are… A-Are you g-going to r-run away?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked the kid in the eye, "That depends on what you'll do. Are you gonna try trapping me? Or killing me?"

A cross between disgust and horror appeared, twisting the teen's massive face as he replied, "N-No! I-I wouldn't-! I-If I hadn't-!"

The vehemence of his words surprised Sam; if that was the case, then why did he…?

The Winchester shook his head, holding his hand up in mock surrender, "Easy, easy. I didn't mean any-"

"N-No i-it's fine!" The kid cut him off, holding his free hand up before glaring at it, "Y-You have every r-right to n-not trust me."

An awkward silence filled the room, the teen refusing to meet Sam's eyes. He watched the kid's free hand reach up; the Winchester flinched and tensed up, expecting the worst. But his fears were unfounded, as the hand stopped near the teen's collarbone and began fiddling with something under his shirt.

"…U-Um," The human still refused to meet his gaze, staring at the cluttered desk instead, "c-can I p-put you o-on the d-desk?"

"Oh, yeah that works. Thanks." Sam shuffled awkwardly, blanching as the "ground" moved with him.

He flinched when the kid's fingers curled up, the digits freezing as he backed away.

The kid wilted as he looked at him, "U-Um… I-I don't w-want you t-to- N-Nevermind. I-I'm sorry."

He was about to respond, but the teen suddenly turned. Sam stumbled, grabbing the kid's thumb for balance as his entire world swayed.

"S-Sorry!" The giant teen whimpered, Sam waved him off as he calmed his nerves. Of course, that was hard to do when every step vibrated through his body and stent him tumbling.

Thankfully, the desk wasn't far away. After a few moments of awkward shuffling, the teen's hand slowly lowered onto the desktop. Sam waited until the fingers were flattened against the cheap wood before bolting off, feeling a massive wave of relief when his feet met solid ground.

This was short-lived when he turned around, watching as an arm over triple his size retreated. The hand attached to it beginning to fiddle with whatever was under his shirt, the kid's left hand dropping to his side.

The teen stared at him for a second, frowning in contemplation before glancing at the abandoned chair he'd been sitting in. He hummed quietly (for him) before looking around the room.

Sam tilted his head, "Uh-?"

The kid suddenly moved, coat trailing behind him as he headed for the bed. Sam raised an eyebrow, about to speak up when the human grabbed one of the pillows.

Object in hand, the white-haired giant returned to the desk. He set it down on the floor about a foot or two away from Sam's perch, scooting it a bit before sitting on it with his knees.

The Winchester was impressed; like this the kid was at about eye level with him, which made talking feel a lot more easy.

"I-I… I um…" The teen fumbled for the right words, looking him over as he spoke, "I-I'm so so sorry a-about… y-y'know."

Sam stayed quiet, tail flicking as he watched the kid closely. He looked like he had more to say.

"C-Can I- Y-You're not… h-hurt or a-anything, a-are you?"

He shrugged, rolling his shoulders to test them, "A little sore, but otherwise I'm fine."

The kid's expression brightened, looking both happy and relieved, "T-That's great! I-I mean, I-I'm glad y-you're okay!"

Sam let out an amused huff, "Thanks, kid."

His brow furrowed as he thought of something, crossing his arms as he spoke, "So, what was up with nearly crushing me? Because something isn't adding up here."

The teen flinched, rubbing the back of his head, "A-Ah. W-Well… it's a l-long story."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

The kid wilted almost instantly, "I-I… can't c-control it sometimes, it j-just kinda…" He gestured vaguely with his left hand, glaring at it, "lashes o-out."

Yikes… no wonder he was so apologetic, "What causes it? Is it a medical condition or…?"

He winced, putting his hands in his lap, "L-Like I said: it's a l-long story."

'Or something you don't want to talk about.' Sam added mentally, but let the subject drop.

"O-Oh, by the way," The kid mimed snapping his fingers, looking like he'd just remembered something, "w-what's your name? M-Mine's Jonas Ryusuké."

He debated telling the teen - Jonas; on one hand, the guy had offered his name up first. On the other… well, Dean would be pissed for one. There was also the problem of secrecy, he didn't want the other wall people to get hurt because of his stupidity.

But… if he was careful, then it should be fine?

"…Sam. Sam Winchester." He finally answered, staring defiantly at the giant.

Jonas beamed, his massive shoulders shifting like he was about to lift his arms. But as quickly as Sam saw this, the veritable cliffs relaxed, the teenager attached to them giving him a sheepish look.

"I-It's nice to meet you, Sam. I-I'd shake your hand, b-but…" He gestured between the two of them with his head, keeping his hands in his lap, "P-Plus I d-don't think you w-want to be near me after… t-that."

"…Not right now, no." He couldn't help agreeing. Despite knowing the teen didn't mean any harm, Sam still watched his movements carefully.

Another bout of silence descended, though it wasn't as tense nor as awkward. It was… oddly pleasant, in spite of everything.

He looked at the items scattered on the desktop, zeroing in on the giant map taking up most of the space. It was an… oddly familiar sight. Not exactly the map itself, but the general set-up instead. The feeling nagged at him as he stared at the items, digging at his mind with a nostalgia that he just… couldn't place for the life of him.

It took several more seconds of staring before it hit him, his brain finally reminding him where he'd seen this before:

Back before their curse, Sam could remember seeing his dad hunched over different maps or books, his journal opened at his side.

This lead to an obvious conclusion, one that made his anxiety skyrocket.

'Shit… is this kid a Hunter?!'

It'd explain how the kid moved so fast - and how he'd even spotted Sam in the first place. Hunters had to be on-edge almost 24/7, unless they wanted to get killed by a vampire or something.

But then… why hadn't he killed him? He'd never heard of a Hunter sparing a "monster" before, they just shot first and asked questions never.

"I-Is everything alright?" Jonas was staring at him, curiosity obvious.

Deciding to fish for info, he responded with his own question: "What's with the map?"

The teen blinked, eyes flicking to the paper for a second, "O-Oh, um, w-well…"

He rubbed the back of his head, sighing as he continued, "I-I… dunno if y-you'd believe me if I told you."

Sam snorted despite himself, gesturing to himself before raising an eyebrow.

"F-Fair enough." The kid huffed, amusement clear as he slowly stood up, "G-Gimme a sec…"

He carefully sat down at the desk, the chair creaking as his weight settled on it. He glanced at Sam before flattening the map out, the noise making his ears hurt a bit.

Once Jonas gave him the okay, he stepped cautiously onto it. The vague smell of ink permeated the thing, and he didn't have to look far for an answer.

Long black pen strokes spread out beneath him, forming large X's over parts of town. He saw a few question marks next to some spots, and circle encompassing others.

…His Hunter theory was getting more credible by the minute.

He got confirmation about two seconds later.

"I-I'm trying to t-track down something," Jonas admitted as he scooted closer to the table, trying to lean on his crossed arms without looming over Sam, "s-something that could e-easily wipe this town o-off the map if it wanted to."

Off the map? What the hell was he after?!

"…Do you know what it is?" He asked after finding his voice, "That might help narrow down locations."

"T-That's the problem!" The teen groaned in admittance, leaning back and throwing his hands up, "I-I know what it is, b-but these t-things vary so much that I can't pin them down!"

He sounded distraught, hiding his face in his hands. His elbows were resting on the table still; despite his fears, Sam walked forward and patted the teen's massive sleeve.

"Hey, it's okay." He couldn't help saying, before leaning into the "oblivious bystander" act some more, "If you're so hung up on this - and if it's as dangerous as you say - then why not go to the police?"

He already knew the answer, it'd been drilled into him for as long as he could remember:

The police couldn't handle the things that go bump in the night, not like Hunters could. They weren't trained to deal with ghosts, demons, or werewolves (and to quote his father directly, "would only get in the way.").

He was only really asking because it'd help gauge the kid's character - help let Sam know if he was trustworthy. Because Hunters (any human really) were dangerous to people like him, no matter how "harmless" they looked.

It took the kid a second to respond, his voice muffled by his hands, "T-They wouldn't b-be able to help, n-not against this thing."

One of his hands moved, fingers combing through his hair, "These t-things… normal w-weapons don't do a-anything to them, they only m-make them more mad. B-Besides, even if I did a-and they believed me…"

He looked at him suddenly, eyes filled with a steely determination that took Sam aback, "there n-no way in hell I'd j-just leave it there. Not w-when people are in d-danger - when I could d-do something to s-stop it."

The tone he used surprised him too; it wasn't the meek one he was slowly getting used to, this was one that held confidence. Despite not knowing if Jonas could back up his big talk, Sam couldn't help but believe him.

"…Alright," He sighed dipping his head slightly, "if you say so."

The teen fidgeted, bitting his lip before suddenly speaking, "U-Um… i-it feels l-like I'm missing s-something here," he gestured to the mess with a massive sweep of his hand, "l-like I'm r-running in circles. I-If you w-want… I-I could use a s-second o-opinion."

Sam's eyes widened at the implication; he… the kid couldn't be asking him for help, right? That- that was just impossible-!

Granted, this entire encounter's been nothing but improbable, but that's beside the point!

After a beat of shocked silence he found his voice, "You… you want my help?"

The teen nodded emphatically, bangs flopping down in front of his eyes slightly, "Y-Yeah! A fresh s-set of eyes c-could find something t-that I missed."

"Are… A-Are you sure?" Sam winced as his voice cracked, "I don't think I'd be much help considering… y'know,"

He pointed at the both of them, watching the kid's eyes follow his every miniscule move.

Jonas scoffed at the motion, "O-Oh c'mon! J-Just because you're s-small doesn't mean y-you can't help!"

Sam looked at the teen in disbelief, "You- I- What?!"

The giant flinched back, head tilting innocently, "I-Is… is that a-a no?"

"No! That's not-!" He groaned, shaking his head as he calmed his breathing, "That's not what I meant. I just- I'm surprised you'd want my help."

"Surprised that you're not freaking out more, too." He added under his breath, because even if this guy was a Hunter (and a new one at that), something like Sam would probably freak anyone out.

He wasn't expecting the sympathetic smile that the teen gave him, nor the reply said in a kind and soft voice, "I've m-met a few inhuman people in the p-past, some g-good, a-a lot b-bad. Y-You'd need to do a l-lot to s-scare me; a-are you a little weird? S-Sure, b-but you s-seem nice enough. P-Plus…"

"Plus…?" The question slipped from the cursed man's lips, his mind stuck on the teen's other words. He'd never expect anyone - much less a human - would say such things about him, or anyone like him.

It was… unbelievable would be an understatement.

Jonas seemed to - he almost seemed to know; his massive face softening before he began moving. Slowly and carefully - more carefully than he ever thought a human could move - he slipped out of his chair, sitting on his knees as he bent down to Sam's eye level.

"…Y-You know more than you're l-letting on, I c-can s-sense it."

His thoughts screeched to a halt, because… what?! More importantly, how?!

The teen squirmed, drawing back a smidge as he fidgeted, "I-It's not… it's not s-something I'm u-used to explaining…"

That… doesn't answer his questions, but alright then.

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. His tail flicked this way and that in irritation; he'd never been good at controlling the thing, not as good as Dean anyway.

It's just - this kid, who's so drenched in the supernatural -so obviously a Hunter - that it's not even funny, but somehow so… so ignorant of it at the same time, like a living paradox that shouldn't exist.

Huh, guess they had something in common there.

Yet despite that, here he was! Asking him - someone who's barely taller than his ankle - for help on a case! No matter how many times he repeated it in his mind, he just couldn't wrap his head around it. It was such an unbelievable - unfathomable - idea that his subconscious outright rejected it.

What was even worse was despite all of the warning signs, all of the red flags, all of his instincts screaming at him that it was a trap… he wanted to say yes.

Ever since the curse - ever since they'd found out that they were different, even amongst the wall people - Sam had fought to prove himself. Whether it be to his brother, the other residents of the walls, or hell even to himself - he needed to prove that him and his weren't just… just useless freaks!

With a stray thought of 'fuck it', he threw caution to the wind.

"Sure, I'll help you."

It was like Sam had just told him Christmas had come early; Jonas' posture brightened as a massive grin spread across his face. This one was all teeth, the serrated dentitions looking like a cross between a dog's and… some other animal that Sam couldn't quite place.

Oh yeah, he definitely wasn't human - at least not entirely.

The teen was about to speak when Sam beat him to it, voice shaking slightly at the sight of those fangs, "B-But! Not tonight, I've stayed out way longer than I should've already."

"…And Dean's probably worried sick." He muttered to himself, guilt filling him at the thought of his injured brother.

"Dean…?" A near-whisper answered him, a chill running down his spine as the giant kid's face grew confused, "I-Is that a f-friend of yours?"

Shit, "Y-You ah - You heard that?"

Jonas nodded before tapping one of his ears, "I-I - my h-hearing's a lot b-better than y-you'd expect, s-sorry."

Great. Sam sighed, waving the apology off with a roll of his eyes, "If you can't help it then it's fine. Just - You can't tell anyone about this, okay?"

A relieved huff answered him, the kid shrugging before gesturing to himself and the desk, "L-Like I'm have a-any room to complain? You're s-secret's safe with m-me."

"…Alright. Then… I'll see you tomorrow?" It felt weird trusting a… whatever Jonas was, no matter how uneasy it was.

It took him longer than he'd liked to respond, reaffirming his decision, "Yeah… see you tomorrow."

He made his way over to the edge of the desk, uncertainty swirling within as he readied his decent, before Jonas spoke up again.

"U-Um… d-do you want m-me to h-help you d-down?" He sounded about as unsure as Sam felt, scooting towards him preemptively.

This time, he replied with confidence, "Nah, I've climbed down higher stuff before."

He felt wide eyes on him as he slipped his hook (a simple bit of thread tied to a bent paperclip) from his bag, latching it to the edge of the desk before throwing the line off. After a practiced tug to make sure it was secure, he was off. Climbing down impossibly tall furniture was second nature at this point, as easy to him as breathing.

He planted his feet on the carpeted floor with a near-imperceptible thwump, turning back to retrieve his hook only to meet the amazed gaze of Jonas.

"So cool…!" The teen's whisper roiled overhead, stars practically in his eyes.

Sam felt a bit pride swell up within him, basking in the feeling of amazing someone so large with relative east.

He was about to grab his line when Jonas began moving, hand snatching his hook before he could even blink. Gently the appendage lowered, thread line trailing behind as it descended. Pinched carefully between the teen's fingers, his hook was presented to him.

It took Sam an embarrassing amount of time to break out of his shocked stupor, shaking himself before quickly grabbing one of his most important possessions.

Jonas looked bashful as his hand retreated, "S-Sorry, i-it looked like g-grabbing that thing w-would've been a p-pain."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, of course the kid would apologize for being nice, "You're fine, saves me the headache."

The teen nodded, Sam feeling his eyes follow him as he walked towards a hole in the wall. It was disguised using the surrounding wallpaper, pulled over it juuuust enough to avoid human attention.

As the Winchester pulled the paper away, he turned and took one last look at the kid. He fought back a snort when he waved at him, returning the gesture before slipping back into the safety of the walls.

[wolfie180g]

Chapter 17 is up! Lemme know what you think and where you'd like to see the story go in the future - what scenes I should cover before the end!

[kflixnet]

Check out our member Zanna's headcanons!!

SEVENTEEN ATLA HEADCANONS

genre. headcanons. avatar the last airbender au. warnings. none. featuring. ot13 seventeen. wc. 1.6k. (around 100 words each) request. no. a/n. obviously i've been on a svt atla kick since burnt promises, second chances. i'd be open to writing fics for any of these small headcanons if anyone is particularly interested :)

SEUNGCHEOL

Ugh, Cheol is really hard. I kinda see him as any nation and also none at the same time. For the lack of other Water Tribe on the list, I’ll give him Water Tribe, but I don’t even think he’s a bender. He’d be a passionate hunter of the Southern Water Tribe, and a very good one, but not a bender. He’d always be eager to help out and fit his role as a true leader. He’s looked up to because he protects his people without fail. He’s good at strategics and known for his bravery. I see him fitting a role like Sokka’s father, but I don’t see him as anything glamorous like Water Tribe Royalty. He’s down to Earth and humble and honest. He leads and the people follow.

JEONGHAN

Jeonghan is an airbender. He’s witty and intelligent, and a great asset to his nation. He’d be in an Air temple close to the Earth Kingdom, and he often helps out with strategics if they ever need it. Definitely a kind and angel baby, but if there’s anyone who needs dealing with, he will personally take the task up. He’s world renowned and has allies and friends in every single nation. When he’s not busy, he’ll spend his time travelling around and immersing himself in the different cultures of the nations. He’s beaten Water Tribe hunters at their own hunt, evaded earthbender attacks in the ring because of how light he is on his feet. And his agility and wit proves to be useful whenever he goes head to head with a firebender. He can often predict their next moves and avoid attacks before they’re even fired at him.

JOSHUA

Joshua is Water Tribe!! Definitely a Water Tribe prince, or even a poor boy from the Northern Water Tribe whose parents couldn’t afford water bending lessons for him, so he would sneak around and watch lessons without getting caught. He’s mostly self taught, so he’s not exactly the best, but he can still hold his own. If he’s a Water Tribe prince, then he probably got bored with water bending very quickly as a child and started figuring out ways to skip his lessons lol. He knows clever ways to bribe or fool his masters into letting him slack off, but he also has to build enough skill to show at least a little improvement. He’s probably more interested in carving proposal necklaces to give to his future girlfriend than improving his bending skills.

JUNHUI

Jun is Fire Nation, and he’s extremely talented at Fire Bending. He probably runs a tea shop with his family and takes lessons on the side; just a regular middle class kid. He’s not aiming for a military position or anything high up, but he uses his skills to help him in daily life. He might have friends from places higher up in the city, and because of that, he got to take a visit to Royal Fire Academy for Girls. Definitely turns some heads— practically the whole school is crushing on him by the end of the 2 hour visit, and he enjoys the attention that he wouldn’t usually get at home. It’s safe to say that he’s invited back given the significant improvement in attendance and performance after his initial visit. 

SOONYOUNG

Another airbender, only because he’s so agile. Like the spider choreo really makes me see him as someone who just likes to swing around upside down for fun. He’ll play pranks on the older monks, or just anyone he can get his hands on. He’s a lot like Aang in that way. He definitely creates his own airbending moves, because he is a choreographer!!! Somehow takes a trip to the Earth Kingdom because it was his life goal to see a tigerdillo in real life. Once he meets one, he somehow adopts it, and settles down in the Earth Kingdom from there on! He’s perfectly happy, and can he even pose as an earthbender if he’s smart about it.

WONWOO

Anyone could probably guess that I see Wonwoo as Fire Nation. I wrote an entire 14.5k fic about it which is expecting a part 2, but I just think he fits it so much? Especially in a role like the Fire Lord or some notable higher up who is skilled at firebending and definitely owns a dragon (if we’re talking a time period before/during the dragon hunts). He’d be the type to just be a natural at it and reach a high mastery at an early age. He’s such a skilled fighter, and definitely knows how to control his flame. He prefers to study directly from dragons instead of old masters, whose teachings feel regurgitated and watered down, which sounds pretentious, but it’s one of the reasons why he got so good.

JIHOON

I see Jihoon as an Earth bender. He’s short and stout but HE'S SO BUFF. He definitely has the density in him to move some rocks, he’s practically built like The Boulder but without the height????? I definitely see him as part of the royal guard, but definitely not an Earth King. He might teach Earth Bending or get posted out on the coast near the Fire Nation or something— but he definitely has a military position. Somewhere where he can use his earthbending to its full potential. Not the most talkative, but definitely the most efficient, so he climbs the ranks like nobody's business and everyone knows to respect every word that comes out of his mouth. If you say even a word about his height, he’ll throw a rock at your head before you can finish the sentence.

SEOKMIN

It was hard to pick between Water Tribe and Fire Nation for Seokmin, but I think he’s ultimately Fire Nation. I see him as an actor for plays, and he definitely uses his firebending to win over the audience. It got to the point that even though he’s from a small town in the Fire Nation, he became a household name and got increasingly popular until he eventually found himself acting in front of the Fire Lord. Once he got rich enough from it, he got a spot in the most infamous acting troupe in the Fire Nation. His favourite role to play is, of course, the Dragon Emperor in Love Amongst the Dragons.

MINGYU

Just a bulky earthbender I don’t know what to say. He probably got recruited to some military position because he’s fit and can hold his own in a fight, but boy’s just really a sweetheart. He doesn’t enjoy smashing people with rocks, so he tries to get out of the military as soon as possible. He instead works as a carpenter of sorts? Builds elaborate structures with his earthbending, and has a surprisingly artistic touch to his creations. Popular with the older ladies because he is a gentleman.

MINGHAO

I see him as an airbender, but I cannot imagine him with a bald head LIKE HELP. But let's say he is, and for aesthetic purposes, keep the long haired Minghao. He practically floats and flies through the air with his airbendings. He’s probably more of a lemur guy than a sky bison guy. I can imagine him having 1 or 2 lemurs who he spends most of his time with. Obviously very light on his feet and into meditation. He’s one of those star students in the class that the teacher picks as an example for the other students to watch and learn from.

SEUNGKWAN

A waterbender, and he’s good because he focused and studied the traditions of it. He knows the importance of the basics, and when he’s teaching, he can get mad pretty quick if he catches a novice waterbender doing a technique lazily. He teaches them the hard way, making the floor an ice rink or slapping in the face with a water tentacle if they make a silly mistake. But he’s a respected master. (Not to say that he’s old, but he holds the respect of an old master). Also a great healer for the Water Tribe. He thinks it’s important for the men to not just learn how to fight with spears and slices of water, but also to heal the tribe, and he offers his lessons to the women of the tribe as well.

VERNON

Another Fire Nation boy. He’s so skilled he can redirect lightning and all that jazz. He’s a worldwide guy too, so he’s definitely familiar with the other nations and their bending to a certain extent. (Like Iroh, studying the Water Tribe helped him with creating new techniques within firebending). He has a dragon because he’s hot like that, and would hold master firebending classes lol. Definitely has connections to the Royal Family and I could even see him serving as a personal guard or something of that sort. His skills aren’t to be wasted, so he can snag a high paying position practically anywhere he wants.  

CHAN

Earth Kingdom kid from a poor family™, I mean it’s just so clear in my mind. I imagine his mom runs a corner store, and he likes to use his very limited earth bending skills to make the shop look prettier. If the wooden tables break down over time, he’ll earth bend a makeshift counter to display the trinkets for sale. He’s quite charming even though he doesn’t have much to say about himself. In the lower class of the Earth Kingdom, practically everyone knows him because he likes to go around and make new friends when he’s bored. He’ll help out the elderly if they need it, and flash a toothy grin to anyone he comes across.

↳ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @minholing,, @shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @wonwooz1,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @haecien,, @amara-mars

[transcendence-au]

★★★ HAPPY 10TH ANNIVERSARY! ★★★

It’s that special time of year, folks–time for our annual TAU ficathon! But, what’s this… we’re turning 10 this year? That’s a milestone if I’ve ever heard one!

To celebrate, we’re going to offer a couple extras this year… we’ve got contests, raffles, and prizes! Here’s a quick peek at what’s going down this eventful birthday of ours:

Fanfic contest (with prizes!)

Fanart contest (with prizes!)

Three raffles!

Alcor charm preorder!

Here’s what the schedule is going to look like:

October 5th: Fanfic and fanart contests open! Alcor charm pre-orders open!

November 2nd: Alcor charm pre-order close + payment deadline

December 14th: Contest submissions close

December 21st: Contest winners and raffle winners announcements

Click the read more to see all the details of these events!

★ Fanfic contest ★

→ Submit your fic to the fanfic contest here! ← 

This time, you can submit your ficathon fic into a contest for some fun prizes!

The winner will receive:

An Alcor charm (free including shipping)

Their fic featured in the “Introduction to TAU” page soon to be unveiled

Art for their fic, drawn by TAU creator Zillychu

Bragging rights! 

Unlike the usual ficathon though, there is a theme all contestants will need to follow. 

☆☆☆ The theme for this contest is: Introduction to TAU! ☆☆☆

This means your fic can be read by anyone who has no prior knowledge of TAU, or even Gravity Falls! It also means you need to give the reader a taste of what TAU is all about – this includes:

Something that explains the Transcendence (or at least shows the reader that the supernatural is now commonplace – this can be achieved anywhere from a single sentence, to a major plot point)

Alcor’s general predicament of being a human-turned-immortal-demon (could be in conversation, or in the general narrative. Does not need to go into detail on the events that lead up to this, but it can!)

At least one familiar or common theme abundant in this AU, which includes but isn’t limited to: 

Family (however it’s defined), friendship, and platonic love

Finding joy amidst grief, hope despite loss

Demonology and eldritch terrors

Supernatural politics and how they fit into the mundane

The existential horror of being a human turned semi-omnipotent immortal demon who must fight the demonic desire for chaos vs. the human desire to pack bond with everything!

A wonderful example of this includes Mod K’s series Bentley & Friends! The story plants you in the center of the TAU world through the eyes of a character named Bentley, and slowly unveils the setting through his perspective. Bentley himself is familiar with a post-Transcendence world and Alcor’s reputation, but only comes to learn the truth about him and Mizar through ensuing shenanigans. 

Another example would be MaryPSue’s Return, Rewind, Rewrite, which starts with an emotional demon summoning, and follows characters who find they're more closely linked to the Transcendence than they expected. Remember: Showcasing the story of TAU through narratives and character interactions is always better than simply giving the reader a summary! 

Please note that there is no word minimum. Longer fics will generally leave a better impression on the mods, but quality will always trump quantity. 

Here’s a list of all the prerequisites for your fic when entering the fanfic contest:

Only one entry per person

Adheres to the contest theme

Only new work created after this announcement post (or within a month if tagged as anniversary content) will be accepted!

Is rated G to M (no explicit sexual content please!)

No word minimum

Is submitted via the Google form by December 14th

OCs are welcome, so long as the theme is met and the story is easily distinguished as TAU-related

If you end up winning the contest, we will reach out to you for your name and address so we can send you your charm!

If you win the contest and you elect not to receive a charm, we will award the free charm to the runner-up.

★ Fanart contest ★

→ Submit your art to the fanart contest here! ← 

Not much of a writer, but still want to join in the festivities? Perhaps you’d like to write and do a little something extra?

Here’s a list of all the prerequisites for entering the fanart contest:

Only one entry per person

ANY art (that isn’t fanfic) is accepted! Illustration, mixed media, animations, emojis, music… if you create it, you can enter it!

Only new work created after this announcement post (or within a month if tagged as anniversary content) will be accepted!

No explicit sexual content

Is submitted via the Google form by December 14th

OCs are welcome, so long as it’s easily distinguished as TAU-related

★ Raffles ★

→ Click here to enter the TAU fan appreciation raffle! ← 

While the mods of the TAU blog will be picking winning contest entries, we’d like everyone participating to have a chance to win a free charm, as well as fans who have created fan content in the past!

There will be a total of 3 raffles:

If you enter the fanfic contest, you will be automatically entered in the fanfic raffle!

If you enter the fanart contest, you will be automatically entered in the fanart raffle!

Yes, that means if you enter both the fanfic and fanart contest, you will be entered twice! If you apply to the TAU fan appreciation raffle, you'll be entered three times!

The TAU fan appreciation raffle is open to everyone who has created at least one piece of fan content in the past! You will need to enter this raffle manually, and share a link to something you created in the past (must be something with a timestamp, like a blog post or AO3 link). 

☆☆☆ If you pre-order a charm and end up winning a raffle, we will refund you on Paypal for the full amount.

☆☆☆ Only one charm will be awarded per person. If you win one raffle, you cannot win in the others. 

★ Alcor charm pre-orders ★

→ Click here to pre-order your Alcor charm! ←

Want to ensure you still get a charm whether or not you win a contest or raffle? Go ahead and pre-order yours!

Price: $15

(includes shipping inside USA, additional shipping fees for international)

Note that since this is something Zilly wants to do in appreciation for the TAU community, the price listed is purely production price. This will cover the cost of the charm, and shipping. If you live outside the USA, we will calculate your shipping separately and disclose this in the Paypal invoice. If the price exceeds your expectations, you are welcome to refuse/cancel the invoice.

Your invoice must be paid by November 2nd! (We need to know how many charms to order!)

The charms will be sent in early January – We will do the contest winners and raffles first, so if you pre-order and then win one of the contests or raffles, your invoice will be canceled and you will be sent a charm at no cost. 

Here’s what you need to do to preorder an Alcor charm:

Fill out the following Google form (You will need to share your Paypal email! Make sure your name and address in your Paypal is correct, as we will be using that to ship your charm)

Wait for us to send you an invoice in Paypal

Complete payment of your Paypal invoice by November 2nd

Estimated delivery date will be January 2025!

★ And now... the true stars of our AU ★

That's everything for this year's celebration! But now, if you'll let me get a little emotional... I'd like to thank the heart and soul of the Transcendence AU:

You.

To all the fans of TAU, new and old. To everyone who spent years active in the fandom, to everyone who even briefly enjoyed TAU content in passing. To everyone who created fanfic and fanart, to those who created music and animated MAPs, to those who organized events and meet-ups, to everyone who reblogged and liked posts made by the TAU blog or any of TAU's wonderful fans.

Thank you. You created this AU. You created something more than an idea. You created a community. Without you, none of this would have been possible.

From the bottom of my little rat heart, I love you all. From all the mods of the TAU blog, we thank you! Here's to another ten wonderful years!

[billiewena]

THREE YEARS SINCE NOV 5TH, 2020 as summed up by Supernatural (sequel to this and this)

image ID & context below:

[image ID: screenshots of Supernatural paired with screenshots of various tweets, news headlines and Tumblr posts.

A screenshot of Ed and Harry in SPN 3x13 Ghostfacers saying "You gotta be gay for that poor dead intern" with a screenshot of Misha Collins at the SPNNJ 2023 convention saying "I got a call from Warner Bros and they were like hey uh...is there any world you just let it go?" This is in reference to an incident in 2022 where Misha accidentally made headlines after a comment that seemed to be referring to his sexuality. His comments at this year's panel imply that the studio in fact did not want him to retract the comment and make the apology that he posted, but to instead just roll with it.

A screenshot of Bobby saying "Time travel?" and Dean saying "Yeah" in SPN 6x18 with a headline that says "Jensen Ackles' Explains The Winchester's Multiverse Twist & Supernatural Connection." This is about the series finale of Jensen's Supernatural spinoff "The Winchesters", in which it is revealed Dean and the Impala somehow traveled the multiverse to the alternate timeline the show takes place in.

A screenshot of Dean in SPN 15x08 saying "He's back, and he's out of control" with a screenshot of Misha Collin's first Tumblr post in seven years, a video with him and his brother being a public nuisance on public transportation. Also included are screenshots of various Tumblr users reacting with tags from various tumblr users. becauseofthebowties: "mishacollinsofficial tumblr account back from the dead???" myboobsarentsentientbeings: "this is the first thing he posts? after nearly 7 years???" casismybestfriend: "RED FUCKING ALERT MISHA IS BACK ON TUMBLR" cannabiscasgate: "who the fuck gave you back your password"

A screenshot of two news anchors in SPN 14x20, with one (named Jack) telling his co-host "I love you" and her replying "Jack?" with screenshots of the Destiel/Supernatural Confession meme trending multiple times this year with other current events topics like Russia, Titanic, etc. There is also a screenshot of a post by saintedcastiel that says "I cannot believe that since we started using the destiel meme as a breaking news alert that there hasn't been ONE destiel news anchor AU fic where they're co-anchors on the morning news. cas confessed on accident while they're on air and dean doesn't know how to respond so he just reads the next thing on the teleprompter."

A screenshot of Dean in SPN 5x14 as Cupid says "I-I was just following orders" with a screenshot of an anonymous Tumblr ask to user luxshine. The ask says "Hey! I was wondering if you have any updates on the LATAM dub situation and if you were/will able to contact the dub director". luxshine says "Hi! Well I could get the translator (you know, our dear rogue translator) and he told me that while he doesn't remember it completely (because he translates a lot of series) if Dean said "And I you" it's because the script he got said "And" I you" and the video he saw said "And I you" because he doesn't add stuff." This is in reference to a change in Spanish LATAM dub of Castiel's confession SPN 15x18, which added a line where Dean reciprocates, which was previously suspected to be a change added by the LATAM dubbing director or translator

A screenshot of a detective from SPN 8x08 saying, "[Chuckles] Whatever you say Scully" with a screenshot of the tumble blr blog ao3topshipsbracket's poll "AO3 Top Relationships Bracket - Round 2 Side 1" with Fox Mulder/Dana Scully (The X-Files) vs. Castiel/Dean Winchester (Supernatural.) In the final results from 51,514 votes, Mulder/Scully won by 53% and Castiel/Dean won by 47%. In early 2023, Tumblr added a polls feature which has led to numerous content, debates, and bracket polls similar to this.

A screenshot from SPN 11x15 where Dean says "No money, no glory" with a headline that says "Supernatural creator Eric Kripke gets 'zero' residuals from Netflix"

A screenshot of Dean rising from his grave in SPN 4x01 with a screenshot of a post from the official CW Supernatural Instagram with a clip from the pilot episode and the caption "And the story continues..." and a comment from a user that says "THE STORY CONTINUES?? WTF ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL US?? I HAVE ANXIETY YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME." For context, no one is sure if the post was supposed to reference new content from Supernatural or not but it has led to speculation.

A screenshot of SPN 8x01, with the onscreen lyric "Another year has passed me by."

[justgreg02]

animation that I’m not sure if I’m gonna finish or not! although I’m proud of it as is. scenes depicted are from book 5, no spoilers :3

THIS IS FLIPNOTE 3D BTW!! i found my old 3DS while cleaning the other day.

original scenes + yapping below cut

pineflowers angst ig 😋

honestly this is how i interpreted it but I’m pineflowers brained so dont take this seriously. theyre gay and in love i swear /hj

if you didnt know— i was an animator for about 4 years in late elementary school, all of middle school, and a little into high school. it’s still fun to do time to time! i actually used to do animation memes.

on another note ive had this really good idea for an AU specifically focusing on pineflowers if anyone is interested in it 😭 i have some art on it that i will probably post at some point. i desperately need to write a fic on it or at least get it down on paper soon cuz ive been trying to plan it out FOREVER. my friend gave me a genius idea for it where basically it is like scott pilgrim but like magic/supernatural?? and basically all the characters arent human. again i need to work on it a lot more but i have the main parts outlined. if someone has any ideas/likes the concept please let me know LMAO

scott pilgrim brainrot is getting to me 💔💔 send help 😭

song is Race by Alex G! go listen to it!! banger song.

here’s my reference material for this <3

[koqabear]

Just A Taste

♫: 28 Reasons, Seulgi // Sacrifice, Enhypen // Hush, Ari Abdul // Oh my god, (G)I-DLE

“Sometimes, the best things are hidden in plain sight; all you need to do is give in to the chase."

 vampire!soobin x fem!reader

Genre: supernatural au, office au, smut. pwp.

Word count: 9.8k

Warnings (for both the story and smut, it all blends together idk): barely edited. power imbalance oou… soobin’s a little evil and manipulative. And obsessive (severely). They have a bit of a predator/prey relationship idk how to explain it 😭😭 mentions of blood/drinking blood, soobin has like. inhuman strength. dom!soobin, sub!reader, bit of a fear kink? for both of them? dubcon, also scent kink for soobin, pet names, (bunny, bun, pet) humiliation kink ig, manhandling, dacryphilia, biting (whaaat??), implied aphrodisiacs, thigh riding, dumbification, praise, subspace…? multiple orgasms, degrading, strength kink, begging, use of restraints, breast play, fingering, orgasm control, cum eating, finger sucking, pain kink for the mc tbh… brief male masturbation? Soobin is big mwuah, unprotected sex, possessiveness, claiming/mating?, overstimulation, creampie, mc briefly blacks out lol, lmk if i missed anything..

notes: starting october with this absolute banger that was sent in quite a while ago. this story is teetering on the darker side, so please read the warnings carefully before you read!

Soobin, who is alluring and intimidating yet strange all at once— a bit standoffish yet charismatic, a total enigma to his coworkers. There’s something off about him, yet no one can really pinpoint what it is; he’s just too good at acting normal— at acting human. 

Soobin, who immediately takes an interest in his meek and evasive coworker who just transferred into his department, who always seems to be tense and even afraid when he enters the same room— naturally, his curiosity wants him to find out why.

You’re smarter than Soobin gives you credit for; because the moment you stepped into the office for the first time, taking in the new environment and its people, you immediately knew there was something wrong about the head of the department— but, instead of brushing it aside like everyone else, you stood by your gut feelings. 

A terrible choice, really. 

Because after a particularly busy evening for you, you quickly found yourself staying after hours in the office, glued to your chair and zoned out as you finished the countless tasks that were suddenly piled onto you— little did you know, it had all been on purpose. 

From the privacy of his office, Soobin watched you carefully; could it be possible you caught on? Was there a reason you never wanted to be alone with him, never afraid to show the skeptic look in your eyes the moment he tried to be friendly and approach you? It’s not that Soobin hadn’t tried to dissuade your clear distrust in him— but it never worked, and most times he found that it only made things worse for him in the end. 

Normally, he would let it be— so what if you find him strange? Everyone in this office does; though he pretends otherwise, he’s fully aware of the comments they’ve all made of him— yet it never fazes him.

You however, seem to be a completely different case; he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way about a human, never the type to give into his carnal desires unless absolutely necessary— even then, he’s always sure to give his prey mercy before feasting, only taking enough to satiate his hunger. 

Maybe it has to do with the way your heart seems to beat a little faster around him, your eyes stricken with a subconscious fear that sharply contrasts your cold and indifferent attitude toward him, never batting an eye yet trying to hide the way your hands seem to shake when he gets even slightly close. 

Poor little thing— in your attempts to distance yourself from him, you’ve only piqued his interest further. 

Because as Soobin sneaks yet another glance at you, watching your every mannerism with hungry eyes, he’s found himself realizing that your fear is quite addicting.

With one last reassurance that the office is empty, Soobin makes his move. 

You don’t hear his office door open; you don’t hear his footsteps approaching you, don’t even feel his presence as he stands behind you, quietly watching the way your fingers fly across your keyboard in an eager attempt to finish your last task of the day. 

“Shouldn’t you be home by now,” Soobin fights the urge to smile as he watches the way you practically jump out of your seat, twisting around violently to look at him— the way you curl into yourself slightly isn’t lost upon him, “___?”

The way your name rolls off his tongue is dangerous; it’s perfect and addicting, just like the quick beating of your heart and your eyes that widen slightly as you realize who is currently towering over you— you seem unsure of what to say as you stutter your response to him, and Soobin has to resist the urge to coo softly at the way your hands grip onto your seat a bit tighter, your eyes glued to an unknown point behind him as you speak. 

“I’m almost done, I’ll be leaving soon.” you say, biting your lip as you wait anxiously for his response; though you’ve always tried to seem flippant and indifferent in front of him, you can’t control the way your weakness leaks through you as you realize where you are— in the office, alone, cornered. 

A moment passes. Soobin has yet to say anything, and despite your instincts telling you not to, you’re nervous enough to look up at him, trying to gauge his reaction through his expression. 

His eyes lock onto yours immediately. 

You’ve never gotten a good look at his face before; every time he’d walk into the same room as you, you’d make it a point to avoid him entirely— but now, as you really begin to take him in, you realize with a slight dread that he’s incredibly handsome— you think you know why your coworkers were so eager to dismiss any strange behavior from him now. 

“There we go,” he smiles, his plump lips stretching into a smile; his teeth are perfect and shine even under the old lights of the office, and you can feel yourself shrinking slightly as you take in his smile— oddly dangerous, your eyes falling onto his sharp, fang-like teeth that glint at you, the expression more warning than welcoming—  and you will yourself to meet his gaze once more, his eyes scrunching up in a way you would’ve considered endearing— but the way his eyes flash isn’t lost upon you, and you can practically feel your heart stopping at the sight. 

“You’re finally looking at me.”

That wasn’t normal. Normal people can’t do what he just did— they can’t make their pupils glint with the same, sharp crimson that Soobin’s just did, taking in your reaction with a dark desire— no, if it weren’t for the fact that Soobin’s mere presence was already enough to make your hair raise like a frightened cats, you would’ve had half the mind to blame it on your tired brain.

“What was that?” you ask quietly, not trusting your voice to be any louder as you scoot your chair away from him slightly— a horrible choice on your part, leaving you more pressed into the desk and as a result, more trapped.

You think you might have lost your mind as you watch Soobin tilt his head, eyes almost transforming and turning into something more sweet and innocent, round and sparkling under the old office lights as he pouts slightly; a total change from the man seconds before, and you would almost begin to wonder if your mind really was playing tricks on you, if not for the subtle twitch of his lips as he takes in your befuddled expression. 

“What are you hiding,” you say, your voice becoming stern as you finally decide to take a leap of faith; you’ve had enough of cowering in suspicion, beliefs that only grow stronger as you stand, taking in Soobin’s amused expression as he watches your brave front. 

“What do you mean?” he asks, still pretending to be clueless as he takes in your accusatory tone with a raise of his brow.

“You… you’re not normal,” you feel a bit ridiculous the moment you say it out loud, but the way the man before you only begins to smile blatantly spurs you on, “You don’t have to hide from me— I’m not stupid.”

“And what will you do about it?” He asks, and it’s only then that you feel your streak of courage begin to fade; he’s taken slow, deliberate steps toward you, and before you can stop it, he’s got you pressed against the desk— hands on either side of you, arms caging you in as he looms over you dangerously, “Will you tell the others?”

You freeze as he begins to lean towards you— you’ve gone in total panic mode, unsure of what to say or do as you merely stand helpless to him, feeling a primal fear take over you as your poor heart beats harder against your chest— Soobin’s lips are near your ear, the soft huff he lets out in amusement defeating to you. 

Slowly, he begins to lean down lower— you don’t know what his intentions are or what he may do, but all you know is that you can’t remain still any longer— his breath fans across the exposed skin of your neck, and your eyes widen as you feel his teeth graze the sensitive flesh, razor sharp and threatening as he threatens to carve a path down the column of your neck; like instinct, your fists come up to push against his chest, using your full strength to push him away in a rush of adrenaline.

Except, it doesn’t work. 

Soobin remains still. Entirely. He doesn’t budge, doesn’t move an inch, even when you continue to punch at him, even beginning to kick at him when that doesn’t work— still, he remains unfazed, still as stone as you continue to try and get him off you.  

Before you can even process it, his hands fly up to catch your own; his grip is bruising, and you can’t control the pained yelp that escapes you from how tightly he’s got you in his grasp. His strength… is inhuman. Helplessly, you meet his eyes. 

“How cute.”

He smiles, and there they are again— his sharp fangs, his eyes that seem to glow threateningly at you, and his bruising strength that makes you wonder if he’ll shatter your hands— except, this time, it all seems to piece together, your mouth falling open as you begin to conclude the impossible. 

“Your heart might explode at this point,” he mutters indifferently, eyes darting down to your chest that rises and falls with rapid, panicked breaths, “What’s going on in that darling brain of yours? You seem so, so afraid.”

“What…” Your words seem to die on your tongue as you thrash weakly in his grip, attempting one last time to escape before you finally give up, discouraged as you try to continue to seem brave, even if Soobin sees right through it, “What are you…?”

Soobin grins. 

“Now you’re asking the right questions.”

♡♡♡

Your requests to transfer departments have been denied. All of them. 

Not a day has gone by where you feel safe in the office since then. Of course, there’s no way Soobin would do anything— not in such a public setting at least, where he’s vulnerable to exposing his real identity. 

That still didn’t stop you from avoiding him— if anything, your attitude toward him only became more blatant ever since that fateful night— and though you wish you could say it worked out well for you, you know that’s a lie. All it got you was more questions from your coworkers and rumors that stirred up about the two of you— whether it was a secret vendetta or a soured relationship, you think you’ve heard it all. 

“What is it about him that you just don’t like?” they would ask, nosy as ever as you simply tried to laugh it off and deny your behavior— if you told them the truth, what would they even say? How would they react?

“Why… are you telling me this?” you had asked him, sitting back against the desk in order to not fall— your legs were weak and you’re sure they would buckle the moment you tried to stand, eyes teary and giving away your fear as you stared up at Soobin.

“Because,” he laughed, the sound soft and breathy as he looked down at you, his tongue running along the top row of his perfect, razor sharp teeth; the sight was enough to make you shiver. 

“No one will believe you.”

You haven’t allowed yourself near Soobin’s presence since then. Haven’t looked in his direction, haven’t gone near him, always sure to give him a wide berth whenever he’s in the same room as you, eager to show him that you don’t tolerate his presence and that you refuse to acknowledge him, no matter how… terrifying and threatening he might be. 

Throughout the time that has passed since his confession and now, he’s taken every subtle change of yours with great interest— any change of expression, change of behavior, change of feelings, he’s taken note of it all. 

Recently, he’s taken note of your heartbeat. The sound is usually very jarring to him the moment he senses you; always rapid and panicked, even more so once you realize he’s nearby— and he’s found himself searching for the sound more often than not, beginning to seek you out even if you may not realize it. 

Though Soobin has noticed something different these days— at first, he thought he was imagining it, that it was just his deprived brain coming to conclusions that simply weren’t there, but the more he paid attention to it, the more he noticed it. 

Your heartbeat has changed. It was miniscule at first, something so minute and subtle that if Soobin hadn’t spent most of his working hours paying attention to the sound of your heart, he could have missed it. But he didn’t, and the sound only became more and more blatant to him the more time passed. 

Your heartbeat wasn’t the only thing that changed. Slowly, you changed as well. He wasn’t stupid; he wasn’t ignorant to the way you began sneaking glances at him, observing him when you thought he was unaware— but when it comes to you, he pays more attention than he lets on—  and if were to say that he didn’t notice the way you’ve began to study him with a subtle curiosity, that would be a downright lie. 

Soobin finds your act of bravery very cute. 

So, when the news is delivered that you would be presenting the monthly report of the company’s revenue to the higher ups, you think you felt your legs give out on you— Soobin could only watch with amusement from his office as you sat at your desk, a troubled expression on your face and your lips stuck in a pout as you chewed on your bottom lip like a habit— a habit Soobin had come to be jealous of, slowly finding himself craving to be the one to sink his teeth into you. 

Soobin isn’t one to feed whenever a craving arises; he only does it when absolutely necessary, finding perfect victims before he swoops in and takes his fill— always enough to satisfy himself, but never enough to hurt. 

His methods had been enough to have him survive and live a normal life, unlike those who jumped at the chance to fill a simple craving like beasts. So, being around you was both thrilling and dangerous— he found himself unable to control his thoughts the longer he remained around you, wondering what it would be like when he finally got his hands on you, wondering if you’d be willing to submit to him and let him use you as necessary. 

For a second, he even ponders keeping you for himself. 

♡♡♡

It’s late at night when you’re finally forced to present, the timing odd and unfortunate as you were told by your supervisors that “it was the only time that worked best.” The sentence was enough to have you irritated by the time the hour came along, forced to stay in your office long after everyone else had left before you finally made your way towards the presentation room on the top floor. 

It was eerily quiet and empty as you made your way up, save for a janitor here and there or another employee that was finally leaving after their overtime; you had five minutes left before you had to present, and you could feel anxiety building up inside you as you shifted your weight on your uncomfortable heels— you had been wearing the uniform for so long that you couldn’t wait for the second you could go home and change.  

Your heels clicked against the tiles of the floor, your hands gripping tightly onto the papers and laptop in your arms as you took in how many people were in the room; it wasn’t as much as you expected, but their power and positions had been enough to scare you straight as you enter slowly, closing the door behind you with a soft click as you greet them politely.

Your smile falters as you spot Soobin at the end of the meeting table, leaning back against his seat with a bored expression. 

The meeting room feels a lot smaller than it did before; you feel suffocated and on edge as your eyes meet his, feeling stiff as you slowly make your way to the podium. You’re quick to look away, eyes glued to the floor as you clear your throat nervously; even now, you can feel his eyes burning into your skin.

Soobin can feel his desire burning stronger the longer he looks at you; he’s able to take you in properly, no longer able to hide or run away as you push through the presentation, the polite smile you keep on your face professional despite the rapid beating of your heart. Soobin can feel it all— he’s trying so hard to keep his instincts under control, but you make it so difficult as you remain nervous and skittish before him, eyes meeting his as he becomes unable to hold back the smile that spreads on his face. 

You feel oddly cornered; you’re surrounded by people, but it feels like it’s just you and Soobin as you watch him flash you a smile, dangerous and terrifying as you take in the way his sharp teeth manage to stick out, even at a distance— you can’t help but feel as though you need to run away and hide. 

It’s always expected to stay back and wait for everyone to leave after you’ve presented; so that’s exactly what you do, head ducked down as you pretend as though the idle screen of your computer is much more interesting than your supervisors that file out and chat amongst themselves. Biting your lip, you try to ignore the way you can practically feel Soobin’s presence as he comes closer— you’re eerily aware of the way it’s just the two of you now, the heavy door clicking shut after the last person that left. 

Your attempt to ignore him until the very end is almost cute to Soobin. He can’t help but let out a breathy laugh as he watches the way you flinch, figure becoming tense as you take in the way he comes up behind you, looking over your shoulder to see what could possibly be taking up your attention like this. 

“Well done,” Soobin says, his voice smooth as ever as he takes in the way you shiver slightly, “your presentation was quite impressive.”

All you can do is let out a soft thank you, hoping your uninterested tone and closed off posture is enough to shake him off— but of course it’s not, and you’re practically scared to breathe as you hear the man take a step closer to you, your jaw clenching as you feel his head hovering over your shoulder. 

“Is something wrong? You look a little… tense.”

You’re shutting your laptop and ready to exit in the blink of an eye— but before you can even take a step towards the exit, you’re being pulled back, pushed against the podium and shrinking against it as you meet Soobin’s gaze. 

“Please, leave me alone.”

There it is— the look Soobin has desperately been craving, eyes darkening at the way you stare up at him, meekly masked with a brave front as your eyes give away your true emotions; he inhales slowly, and he can practically drown in the way your scent changes at his proximity, the once sweet and alluring smell now intense and intoxicating, the twinge of something new piquing his interest as he finds himself stuck on it, unsure of what it may be. 

“Have I done something wrong? It seems that you didn’t like me from the very start,” Soobin’s act of innocence is far from amusing to you. You’re unsure of what response he could possibly be looking for as he stares at you expectantly, pouty lips and round eyes a contrast to the true identity he revealed to you long ago. 

“You know what it is,” you say, finding yourself unable to make space between you and Soobin as you press yourself further against the podium, “You— you’re not… human. You’re dangerous, I don’t want you near me.”

Your words are enough to have Soobin’s brows raising in surprise— the sudden confrontational tone you’ve taken on is quite surprising, and he finds himself oddly satisfied with the way your heart rate slowly begins to change, your scent going from something more panicked and sharp to something that practically makes Soobin dizzy— he has to hold himself back from getting lost in it as he smiles softly at you. 

“Dangerous?” he repeats, though he doesn’t seem to be offended by the word as he slowly begins to lean in; of course, you lean away in response, but it only gives you so much space before you’re craning your neck back awkwardly, leaving you in a vulnerable position as Soobin eyes it carefully. 

“Have I… done anything… dangerous, to you?” 

Soobin’s voice is barely above a whisper; if you weren’t so focused on his every word, you could have missed it. 

You gulp; Soobin’s eyes flicker down from yours, and you can feel yourself shiver at the realization that he’s staring at your neck. His words ring out in your head again, and you feel yourself tensing from a threat that seems to be hidden behind it all. 

“You know I wouldn’t hurt you...” Your eyes are widening at his confession. There’s an unknown emotion swimming in Soobin’s eyes, and you can feel your hands cramping from how hard you’ve been gripping the edges of the podium behind you. 

His eyes flicker back up.

You can feel yourself get transported back to the lonely day at the office, the scene eerily familiar as you take in the way his pupils become dilated, an intense glow of crimson swimming within as you find yourself unable to look away; the sight is almost alluring, and you realize with a heavy dread that Soobin is holding back— from what exactly, you’re unsure. 

“You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?” he asks softly; you’re brought back to your senses as he leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear as he speaks, the deep rumble of his voice sending shivers through your spine, “I’ve noticed it all— especially the way your heart and body reacts to me now. Was it fun, pretending to hate me?”

Everything is so overwhelming. It feels as though your head is underwater as your mouth parts, unsure of what Soobin is going on about— you practically jump at the feeling of his hand landing on your waist, cold and big as his thumb gently caresses the spot.

“Aren’t you curious, bunny?” he asks, and you don’t realize that your eyes have been shut tight until you feel him pull away, confused by the sudden absence of his presence. 

He seems to be lost in thought; his chest heaves with a deep breath— once, twice, his eyes fluttering shut in concentration— then he sighs, eyes slowly opening and a smile twitching at his mouth, lips slowly being stretched into a grin. He looks at you, at your cowering figure, your pounding heart, and your scent infused with a certain twinge he realizes he’s very familiar with— just, not familiar smelling it from you.

“You’re enjoying this,” your scent is thick and heavy, settling deep into his head and leaving him intoxicated from the realization that you’re aroused, face heating up and expression dropping with horror at his words; it’s no question, especially with the way your lips press together to withhold a weak whimper, “aren’t you?” 

When you push Soobin off this time, he lets you; he stumbles back and watches the way you shake your head frantically, as if that could deny the way the way you have yet to run away, the way your scent only grows tenfold at the way he takes slow, deliberate steps towards you— your face is flushed and your legs tremble pathetically as you step back from him, walking along the long table as he only steps towards you in response. 

“I’m— I’m not, you’re—” you can’t even seem to finish your words, mind blanking and eyes becoming glassy as he realizes that you’re embarrassed; he coos softly at the realization, reaching out teasingly to grab you, laughing heartily at the way you yelp and flinch away— as though he were something you should be guilty of being attracted to, as if the way you were feeling was dangerous. 

And maybe it was. 

“Are you embarrassed?” he coos softly, lips pouting as he looks at you with pity; you’re running out of room, about to go around the table and inevitably make your way back around to the exit— but not if Soobin can help it, eager to not let you out of his clutches this time as he rushes over to you; he’s grabbing your waist and pinning you against the windows of the meeting room in the blink of an eye, taking in the way you squeal in surprise and brace your hands against his chest— your heart is pounding at a harsh pace, a stark contrast to the way you feel nothing at all under your palms that press against the firm muscles of Soobin’s chest.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he sighs, pressing you flush against the windows and watching the way your eyes screw shut, attempting to curl in on yourself as you press your thighs together tightly; the sound of your tights rubbing together is almost deafening to Soobin, and his fingers dig just a bit deeper into the flesh of your hips, as though he were holding himself back.

“It’s normal to feel this way, you know,” he coaxes you softly, whispering soft reassurances as he runs his hands up and down your sides, smoothing the fabric of your clothes and running down your tight mini-skirt; feeling the way your thighs tremble as his fingers skirt along the material that covers it, blunt nails scratching your flesh and pulling the sheer cloth along. 

“You’re so tense, bunny,” he mourns, feeling the way your breath hitches as his hands move— one pressing against the small of your back harshly, the other grabbing at the back of your thigh in attempts to press you closer against him, caging you in entirely; your back is arching and your head is involuntarily tilting back as your neck is bared to him; through wet lashes and wide, doe eyes, you finally look up at him.

“Don’t be scared,” he breathes out, his hand trailing up your thigh, cold palm smoothing the material of your tights, ruthless against the cloth of your skirt as he drags it along— hand hitching on your shirt and tugging it up slightly, your chest rising sharply with the breath you take as he brushes up, up the delicate column of your neck until he’s got your chin in his palm— fingers digging into the plush of your cheeks, forcing you to keep your eyes on him as he smiles— it’s sweet, it’s dark, it’s predatory, and it sends a lick of fire down your body.

“I’ll take good care of you.”

When Soobin begins to lean closer, you don’t flinch away; your mind blanks and your lips part expectantly, pulse still quick and afraid under Soobin’s fingers that press against your neck, just under your jawline— and your eyes flutter shut, delicate lashes decorated with tears that wet your skin, a dark facade that only spurs Soobin on more— he’s finally got you under him, and it’s just as thrilling as he imagined. 

When he kisses you, it’s gentle. He’s treating you like a fragile thing, testing the waters, waiting for you to respond to the way his plush lips press against yours, sighing in content the moment you do; your hands still shake against him though, unsure of what to do with them, only making Soobin hold back a groan at the way you grab onto the clean, pressed shirt the moment he slips his tongue past your lips, tasting you with such eagerness that you’re left breathless.

You’re shocked stiff when you feel it; his teeth, razor sharp and cautious, grazing along your bottom lip. The whimper you let out does nothing to distract Soobin from sensing the way your scent spikes, dense and rushing to his head as he does the only thing he knows how to do; his teeth sink into your swollen bottom lip, ripping a pained moan from you as your hands panic and press against his chest— but he stays there, feeling his fangs sink into the flesh, feeling the way blood pools around the wound and onto your mouth, on his teeth— he’s just as quick to pull them out, his hand that was once on your jaw traveling to the back of your head in a haste; eager to keep you close, tilting your head up and keeping your mouth parted as you simply allow him to lick and suck at the blood, to kiss you as though he could die any moment now. 

It doesn’t hurt after a moment— that much surprises you, the only pain you feel coming from your burning lungs, from the need to be parted and breathe— but Soobin has deemed you his oxygen, his life force, reluctant to part even as you whine and plead quietly under him; after a moment, he finally gives in to your weak cries. 

The string of saliva that connects you two is stained red; just like Soobin’s lips, and undoubtedly your own as well. His teeth are stained and your blood continues to fill your mouth, the taste metallic and strong as you try to regain your breath— slowly, your lip begins to feel strange, a tingling sensation running from your wound to your tongue, through the blood you swallow and into your system; your eyes widen, and Soobin merely looks at you with a knowing smile. 

“What’s happening to me?” you ask softly, hands trailing up his chest to get purchase on his shoulders, broad and stable as you hold onto them like a lifeline— your body feels warm, your head is fogging, and your wound no longer stings— but the blood still dribbles out of it, far too much for you to keep up with it as you swallow continuously— and the feeling only worsens, until your thighs shake and Soobin’s touch suddenly feels much, much warmer. 

“I feel— I feel…” you’re not sure how to describe this feeling; all you know is that you’re pulling Soobin back in for a kiss, fingers threading into his soft hair and tugging desperately to feel his tongue against yours again; to feel the way it runs along your bites soothingly, whimpering softly and being met with a soft groan in response; your taste, something Soobin once thought would be the thing to finally satiate him, is something he simply cannot get enough of. 

“Feel weird, bun?” he asks softly, pulling away and cooing at the way you cry at the loss of him, “I know, I know— let me make it feel better, okay?”

Your form is no longer curled up in a desperate attempt to close yourself off; you’re no longer trying to hide the way your panties stick to you and your stomach burns with a strong desire, the window suddenly cold against you as you allow Soobin to press more against you, to place a thigh in between your legs, firm and thick as he goes up, up, and against your cunt— you practically keen at the feeling. 

“It’s okay bunny, you’re okay,” Soobin says softly, both his hands finding themselves on your hips as he presses you against him; cute skirt now ruffled just under his hands, showcasing your sheer tights and your lace panties that are completely soaked; soft cunt grinding against his thigh, leaving a mess of slick arousal that only serves to spur the both of you more— your scent invading Soobin’s senses shamelessly, just as shameless as the sounds you let out, hips angling so that your clit can rub against the harsh muscle of his thighs.

He clenches and jolts the muscle against you. You’re left to weakly hold onto him, a hand on his forearm while the other is placed on top of his own hand, gaze going down to watch the way you rut against him stupidly— harsh pants leaving you as you watch your panties become soiled, your tights suddenly a lot thicker as they impede you from really feeling him— but you push the thought aside in favor of looking back up at him, unable to hide the shiver that wracks through you at the realization that he was already watching your face intently.

“Feels good?” he asks, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes, gauging your expression carefully— you nod frantically, attempting to say something, only for it to be cut off by a choked moan— Soobin has pressed your cunt flush against his thigh, forcing you to a slow grind that threatens your folds to spill out your underwear, the dirty sounds of your tights rubbing against the fabric of his pristine, smooth dress pants enough to have your face burning— and Soobin revels in the shame that it brings you, taking in the subtle, acidic changes of your scent with a deep inhale— he’s fascinated, and he refuses to let you go until his curiosity is satiated. 

“What do you want, bunny?” The nickname affects you, that much he can tell— he holds you tighter, leans in to whisper in your ear, already feeling the way his close proximity is enough to have your heart rate spike, even if just for a second.

“How do you like it, hmmm? Want me to go harder?” his thigh tightens in a truly cruel way, angling it so that you can truly feel the contours of his every muscle— “faster?” and suddenly, you’re nothing but a pretty doll in his arms, his hands guiding your pace so that you’re riding him as recklessly as you want; the mewl you let out is enough to give him the answer he wants, changing his rhythm until he gets a particularly pathetic sound out of you. 

“Like this?” He continues his set pace. And you’re shivering, unable to do nothing more than chant yes, yesyesyes, breathless and practically inaudible as you focus on the hot pleasure that you feel; Soobin is busying himself by whispering sweet nothings into your ear, things that would have you gasping and turning into a flustered mess any other day— but here, in these lonely, dark hours, with no one else around, you allow yourself to indulge; allow yourself to nod along to the way he asks if you’ll be a good little pet for him, if you’ll let him use you until he’s satisfied— and it all goes straight to your cunt, bringing a fresh wave of soaking arousal and making the pleasure in your stomach tighten until it’s unbearable. 

You’re so close— and you’re quick to let Soobin know, watching your frantic attempts to take over the pace he’s set for you, whining and whimpering weakly as you search for that one thing that will set you off— and Soobin abandons whispering into your ear to place delicate kisses behind it, plush lips trailing down the column as his fingers dig into your hips, pressing you down against him, just like the way his lips trail lower, pressing kiss after kiss until his mouth opens and—

A cry is all you can muster as you fall apart on him. His teeth that grazed the sensitive spot of your neck have since then retreated, and Soobin is quick to sweep back in to steal your lips, pulling you in for a kiss you don’t have the mind to reciprocate; mind emptied, cunt clenching and soaking his pants as you allow him help you to continue riding out your high, whimpering weakly at the way he breaks the kiss to coo soft praise at you.

Come on bunny, let go sweet thing, that’s it, so perfect for me.

You’re not fully there by the time your orgasm has subsided; your mind is just as tingly and foggy as the rest of your body, your movements lethargic as you grab desperately at Soobin— craving nothing else but him, feeling as though the burning of your body can only be cooled by his touch— your eyes are glassy and fucked out as you stare at him, hips moving without you realizing as you silently beg him for more.

Soobin feels as though he could make you cum like this a few more times; entranced with the way your brows furrow and your mouth drops the moment you fall apart, the way your moans become choked and breathless as you ride out your peak— but he’s also undeniably greedy to be inside you, a desire he knows you share, judging by the way your hand has begun to trail down his chest slowly, eyes drifting down to the outline of his hardened cock against his smooth dress pants.

“Please…” you whisper out weakly, looking back at him with a face so pretty and undeniably pathetic that he refuses to hold back any longer— grabbing your hips and turning you two around quickly, forcing you to stumble back until you’re pressed against the table— and it doesn’t end there, letting out a whimper as Soobin hoists you up, the wood cool under your ass as Soobin continues to hover over you with need; you shrink under the intensity of his gaze, feeling your body buzz with a slight fear— and a slight adrenaline. 

“What is it?” he asks, voice apathetic as he places a firm hand on your chest; pushing you down slowly, until you’re laying on the table and Soobin has parted your legs with ease to stand in between them; you’re whimpering out half-hearted and incoherent requests that Soobin doesn’t bother paying attention to, the hand on your chest making quick work to unbutton your shirt; low-lidded eyes taking in the cute bra that was hidden beneath, just as lacy and pretty as your panties as he smiles at the sight— your mind sobers for a second as you attempt to cover yourself in embarrassment, but Soobin refuses to let you as he gathers your wrists in his hands and pins them above you. His face is dangerously close to yours as he glares at you. 

“Tell me bunny,” he grits out, feeling his clothed bulge press against your warm cunt, tensing at the way your arousal already leaks through the clothing; his hold tightens around your wrists and you squirm, legs locking on his hips as you try to grind your cunt against him— the sight is both endearing and pathetic to him. “I won’t know what you need unless you tell me.”

“Need you, please please, wanna feel you,” you ramble, wrists fighting to get out his grasp as you hips buck under him; your mind has become foggy once more, nothing else but a deep desire in your head that you know only he can satiate— you’re desperate for his touch and he knows it, so to have him deny you like this is nothing short of cruel. 

He’s not satisfied by your begging. His face remains stoic as he lets go of your wrists, eyes narrowing at the way you grab onto his sleeves, eyes glassy and fucked over as you cry for him not to leave you like this— your body feels weird, and you just don’t know how to make it go away— you’re trying desperately to tell him what he wants, but nothing seems to work as you run your mouth until you’ve finally pressed the right button.

“Soobin, I— please, feel so weird, just wanna feel you, please help me, please?” your body is restless and you feel as though your heart only beats for the man above you, hot tears spilling from your eyes and running down your face; Soobin is quick to brush them away with gentle hands, shushing you quietly as he pulls at his tie; it was practically suffocating him anyways, and he feels as though he can finally breathe as he finally takes it off— and begins to tie it around your wrists with deft hands, enough for it to restrain you but not enough to hurt— and he’s left with a bit of extra length that allows him to pull your wrists down and flush against your stomach, watching the way your fingers absentmindedly stretch toward him, furthering your attempts to touch him as your rambles continue seamlessly.

“Soobin…” you cry softly, your chest heaving softly, supple skin peeking from your undone shirt, “feels so hot, wan’ your help… need your cock…”

There’s a thin layer of sweat that covers your body; a light sheen that sparkles along your chest and abdomen, hidden by the white, neat shirt that Soobin simply pulls further apart with a rough hand, untucking it haphazardly from your mini-skirt— and you shudder, unable to do nothing more but lay there as you wait for Soobin to do something— a soft cry of his name has him shuddering, dark eyes flickering back to your face as you repeat the pitiful sound. 

His name has never sounded sweeter. He’s leaving wet, sloppy kisses along your breasts, free hand shoving the rest of your skirt up and onto your waist roughly— your body jolts from the crude movements, thighs shaking at the way his cool fingers skirt around the inside, drifting closer to where you need him the most, a shuddered sigh escaping you once his cool palm is pressed onto your cunt. 

The fire in your body burns brighter. His touch is addicting and the lust that courses through your blood is only amplified by the feeling of him teasingly biting your breasts— never enough to break the skin, but enough to remind you of who he is, of what he’s capable of. 

His strength is something you will never be used to— he’s able to rip your tights with a single hand, not flinching at all before he’s moving onto your panties next; the sound of the fabric tearing is eliciting a soft gasp from you, only for it to be replaced with a broken whine as his fingers glide up and down your slit— feeling just how much of a mess you’ve made, soaking his fingers and dripping onto the table as you buck your hips at him desperately— his fingers are wet as they circle your clit slowly, needy whines escaping you at the small stimulation, quietly begging for more— but he simply teases you, dark eyes staring up at your face and drinking every change of your face eagerly.

His fingers slip in so smoothly it makes him let out a soft moan; you’re so wet and tight, needy walls pulsing and sucking him in desperately, your cries still broken as you try to grind your hips against his two fingers, long and calculated as he presses along your walls, curling curiously and searching for the spot that will have you weak beneath him— and he finds it in no time, a long moan escaping you the moment the pads of his fingers press against it, curling and uncurling, watching the way your legs shake and jump at the sensation with a wicked grin; he’s pumping his fingers into you, adding another finger in, stretching you out until you feel as though you can’t handle anymore— and he tugs at your restraints teasingly, looking down at the way your nails dig into your palm and your arms become stiff from the pleasure— it only takes the feeling of his palm pressing against your clit for your breaths to pick up and become frantic.

“Soobin— Soobin please, ah— so– so close, gonna cum, ngh—” you’re thrashing under him, the pleasure so intense that you’re fighting against his restraints, head turning to the side as though you could hide your face from him, “please, need it, need t’cum, fuck…!”

You’re breathless and on the verge of tears, and Soobin takes it all in eagerly; he watches the way your face twists with pleasure, the way your arousal has soaked his hand and leaves your tight-covered thighs slick, and he feels the way your walls begin to tighten around him, so close, so impossibly close— he just needs to grind his palm against your clit a little harder, harshen his thrust so that your sweet spot is abused and you’re left a wailing mess, maybe bite at your skin teasingly, a promise for what’s to come—

But he doesn’t. He does the exact opposite of that, watching as your eyes widen and a broken look of realization dawns on your lips, eyes cloudy and filled with tears that refuse to spill; your voice is defeated and breaks with every frantic plea, your hips bucking desperately to try and get that fleeting pleasure Soobin is now denying you.

“No, nononono,” you babble, hiccuping softly as you screw your eyes shut, tears finally escaping you at the action, “noooo, please don’t stop— close, was so close to….”

Your words are interrupted by a soft sob that escapes you, your mind and body so desperate for pleasure that you feel as though your whole life-force is being taken away; your soft pleas blend together as you stare up at Soobin with pathetic eyes, hands that were once closed shut now stretching out to try and reach for him— but he refuses, staring down at your broken form with a blank face.

Soobin is quick to shut up your slurred pleas; his fingers are slipping out your cunt, dripping and shining with your slick arousal as he brings them up to your face— slapping softly at your cheek, watching the way your cum smothers over the soft skin and your mouth opens without much of a thought— your lips are tempting and pretty as they wrap around his fingers, a shiver running through his body at the feeling of your warm tongue running along the soiled skin, tasting yourself and letting out a soft moan; hazy eyes staring up at him, ruined cunt still bucking up at him subtly, as though tempting him to finish what he started.

And that’s exactly what he’ll do— his fingers are slow to slip out of your mouth, watching the dumbed out expression on your face as he does so— and his hand is trailing back down your body, brushing over the exposed skin with your spit-soaked fingers, not stopping until he’s back down at your pretty cunt. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, bunny,” he says softly, his thumb going to rub gentle circles on your clit, his index and middle finger running up and down your folds— his other hand has abandoned your restraints, and you attempt to sit up slightly as you watch him undo his pants— unbuckling his belt and letting it and hang loose, undoing his jeans with haste and letting them lay low on his hips, his hand disappearing beneath the waistband of his boxers— and you can only let out a whimper at the sight of him finally pulling his cock out, long and thick with a flushed tip, leaking so much precum that you wish nothing more than to clean him up nicely with your tongue.

The pressure on your clit is becoming harsher; he’s building you up again, watching with apathetic eyes as your sounds begin to pick up again, still tense from your previous, ruined orgasm. You shake your head at the feeling, whining that it’s unfair, don’t wanna cum like this— need you inside, need your cock, pleaasee— god— 

But he doesn’t stop— he’s stroking his cock at the same pace he’s set for you, the slick sounds of him fucking his fist going straight to your head, eyes fluttering shut at the overwhelming sight before you, nimble fingers swiping over his tip to collect his leaking arousal— and you’re close again, you don’t think you’ll be able to stop it this time, even if he pulls away, even if he tells you not to—

Soobin lets you cum this time. He watches the way your eyes widen and your mouth falls open with shock, his face twisting into concentration as he lets you cum on the head of his cock, pressing it in and breaching your walls just before you hit your peak— and you feel stretched, you feel full, helpless cries escaping you as he begins to thrust the rest of his length into your clenching walls, hands unsure of what to hang onto before you’re able to grab a bit of his shirt— and you’re pulling much harder than expected, eyes widening as you watch a few of his buttons pop off, not able to focus too much on it due to the feeling of his thick, pulsing cock entering you with every clench of your walls. 

Your chest heaves in attempts to calm yourself down— his shirt is twisted in your fingers, but it’s not enough to ground you as you feel the way his length curves into you, pressing against the abused and sensitive spot that has you keening and clenching around him, shaky legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer— and he’s hovering over you, supporting himself with a forearm by your head as the other holds onto your waist. 

He begins to move— it’s slow and subtle, starting at nothing but a grind of his hips as he feels the way your hot walls adjust around him, squeezing and fluttering and expanding, all as you try to take in his impressive size— then he pulls out slowly, feeling the way your cunt attempts to protest the action, your eyes rolling back at the way you feel every detail of him, pulling all the way out until the only thing left is his tip that catches on your entrance, the rest of his length covered in your shared arousal. 

Soobin remains there for a second; deep breaths fanning against your skin as he closes his eyes in concentration, willing himself to not cum at the feeling of you, the sight of you underneath him, the sounds that are panted and whined directly against the shell of his ear. 

Without warning, his hips snap back against yours— the action is sudden and has your body sliding up the table slightly, only to be brought back down by Soobin, who wraps the length of his tie around his hand and pulls you back against him— burying himself deeper into you, feeling the way his cock practically splits you open— but you like it, your scent practically emptying his mind and your walls gripping him like a vice— it’s hard to move, but Soobin accepts this challenge eagerly as he begins to fuck you. 

Slow, it’s so agonizingly slow. But it’s deep, and Soobin angles his hips so perfectly, grunting against your ear and letting out sighs with every pull of your restraints, the tie tightening around your wrists and sending you back down on his cock ruthlessly; you’re nothing but a doll for him to use and control, your sharp heels digging into his back as you try to hold onto him helplessly, treated like nothing but a ragdoll as Soobin slowly begins to pick up his pace. 

Then his hips are slamming against yours. The sounds of skin against skin is echoing harshly into the meeting room, and his cockhead is mean and thick and heavy as it presses against your sweet spot, again and again until you’re hiccuping moans, unable to breathe, unable to fight against the overwhelming pleasure— and it’s just how you like it. 

Your mind is racing, your mouth unable to spit out a coherent thought— but your body speaks for you, and Soobin watches as you begin to grow restless under him, the way your legs tense and your hands pull at his shirt, eyes rolling to the back of your head and fluttering shut as he retaliates by fucking you a little harder; your wrists ache and so does the rest of your body, but you don’t seem to care as you walk this tightrope of pain and pleasure, something Soobin is well versed in— he laughs softly at your fucked out expression, releasing a sharp breath before his lips are hovering right by your ear, sentences punctuated and broken up by the exertion of his body and the moans that your cunt rips out of him. 

“That’s a good bunny— cunt so fucking tight– shit, just wanna make you mine, keep you to myself, claim you like you deserve—” he listens to the way you react to his words, feels it, your cries and nods not slipping past him as he lets out a breathy laugh, “you’d like that? Yeah? Fill— fill you up nice and full— fuckin’– take care of you like a good little pet— hah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You’re nodding, fuck, there’s drool building up in the corners of your mouth, tongue lolling and absentmindedly brushing past the bite marks on your lips, the dull sting only bringing about more shocks throughout your body, desperate to be satiated, a fire begging to be put out— and the idea of being nothing else but Soobin’s, his to use and claim, is absolute heaven in your mind. 

The knot in your stomach is becoming impossibly tight; you’re on the verge of hitting your peak again, Soobin can tell, yet there’s something else your body seems to be begging for— and he knows exactly what it is, grinning wildly and practically stealing the thoughts from your head as he pulls the tie in his hands roughly; his inhuman strength sending you back down on his cock with ease, lips brushing against your ear and hot pants making you shiver as he speaks to you in that dangerous, low voice of his. 

“Say it,” he growls, his pace not faltering even if your cunt is willing to hold him so tightly he’s unable to pull out at all, your head thrown back and your eyes screwing shut from the pleasure.

“Tell me you want it. Tell me you’ll take it– fuck– take it like a good pet— say it. Say it, use your words, bunny.”

Your words are coming back to you with a particularly unforgiving thrust of his— eyes widening as they search for Soobin’s frantically, only to be met with his head of blond hair and his face that’s tucked in the security of your bared neck— and you let go of any shame that was left inside you, a carnal and primal feeling overtaking you as you beg, and beg, and beg. 

“Please– please please, I want it, I need it— Wanna be yours, wanna be claimed— fill me, use me I– need— need it, hnng– want it, want you to fill me, cum inside please— been so good, right? I’ll take it, I— ah! I— wan’ you to claim me, make me yours—!”

Soobin has never heard anything more perfect. He’s calculated as he thrusts right into your sweet spot, once, twice, three times— and he sinks his teeth into your pretty little neck, listening to the wanton squeal you let out, cunt immediately soaking and choking his cock— but he holds you down nicely, pressing his weight onto you and placing both hands at your hips, making sure you can’t squirm away from him or his cock that lets you ride out your orgasm, rutting his cock into you even after you’ve begun to shake from the sensitivity.

Your blood is heavenly. There’s no single word that could describe its taste, the way it makes his body shiver and his eyes roll back, finally setting him off the moment he swallows. And he cums inside you, fills you up good, the warm liquid squirting endlessly inside you, prolonging the feeling with the subtle rocks of his hips. It goes on longer than the two of you expected, filling you up with cum until it has no room to go, dripping out of your abused hole and leaving a ring around the base of Soobin’s length.

He listens to the way you cry and sniffle above him, lost in the pleasure— it doesn’t hurt. No, far from it. It makes you see stars and makes another weak wave crash over you, and you think your consciousness is slowly slipping out of you from the intensity of the pleasure you’ve received; Soobin’s lips are stuck on your neck for a few more seconds, warm tongue brushing over the sore punctures before he’s pulled away, your neck sensitive and bruised from the bite.

And it heals nicely the moment he’s pulled away. But there’s something different this time, something that shows up on your skin that he’s never seen before; two faded dots remain on your skin, and though it’ll remain inconspicuous to everyone else, Soobin immediately recognizes it with a soft shudder— he feels his cock twitch inside you.

It looks like his body has agreed with his mind; you’re the perfect fit for him, his to use and take care of until he can’t anymore— he rubs soft circles on your hips, straightening up and looking at the mess before him with fond, lustful eyes— a sheen of sweat covering your whole figure, your closed eyes and parted mouth, your shirt that’s been left open and mirrors his own torn one, your bound wrists and skirt that’s haphazardly bunched at your hips. 

And his eyes wander lower, to take in the way your thighs continue to tremble and his cum leaks out, staining your tights and the table of the meeting room— you’re waking once more with a soft groan, looking up at Soobin through bleary, red-rimmed eyes. 

He leans over, hovering above your face; pulling you in for a sweet kiss, smiling at the way you can’t even reciprocate it properly— and he nips at your bottom lip teasingly, feeling the way you immediately shiver in response. 

“So good for me, bunny,” he smiles, continuing to trail kisses all along your face, on your jaw, traveling to your neck— and his eyes scan your faded bites with satisfaction, kissing it softly and feeling the way your body warms immediately.

“You’re all mine now, you know that?” your cunt clenches involuntarily at his words— and he’s slowly beginning to rut his cock into you again, already feeling a cruel thirst fester within.

“All mine.”

You can take another round, he’s sure of that— after all, you’re his good little pet.

[star-my]

BTS Fic Recs ☆ Tumblr (ii)

These are all available on tumblr as of April 2024. Some are likely crossposted on ao3 as well.

~Ao3 RECS HERE~ ~Recs (i)~ ~Recs (iii)~

Almost all are complete works, those with “+” after WC are incomplete. Most are BTS x (F!)Reader.

Most of these are Mature or Explicit (usually because of smut) ~ mdni ~ italicized titles rated G or T ~ Please read responsibly

If any authors tagged here wish to be removed/untagged, please lmk!

F2L = friends to lovers ; E2L = enemies to lovers ; FE2L = frenemies to lovers ; R2L = rivals to lovers ; BFB = best friend's brother ; BBF = brother's best friend etc

OT7/Multi

☆ Crescent Bound series by @parkhabits | Werewolf AU | 32k+

☆ Tainted Souls series by @mininky | ?2l Vampire au, Canon Idol-verse | ?k

Kim Namjoon

☆ He Loves Me series by @bratzkoo | Sugar Daddy AU | 11k +epilogue to come

Kim Seokjin

☆ How to Fake A Boyfriend series by @bts-reveries | F2L Fake Dating AU, Youtuber AU, SMAU | ?k

☆ the taming of the bridezilla by @cinnaminsvga | F2L Fake Dating AU | 7k

☆ Arrogant by @dreamyjoons | FWB2L Uni AU | 7k

Min Yoongi

☆ bloom by @aquagustd | BBF AU | 15k

☆ want a taste by @suga-kookiemonster | S2F2L Mall AU, Rapper AU | 18k

☆ Private Lesson by @dntaewithluv | FWB2L Pianist AU | 6k

☆ what's poppin' by @joonberriess | Sugar Daddy AU, Canon Idol-verse | 2k

☆ angel by @joonberriess | Established Relationship, Canon Idol-verse | 7k

☆ honey bunny by @lonelyhobi | Established Relationship AU | 6k

☆ boseong breakfast by @honeymoonjin | S2F2L B&B AU | 24k

☆ subscribed by @aquagustd | S2L Uni AU, Camboy AU | 15k

☆ eargasm + eargasm, pt 2 by @lavishedinjimin | S2L Phone Sex AU, kind of Uni AU | 24k

☆ first love series by @clouditae | F2L Uni AU, Tattoo Artist AU | ?k

☆ skin deep series by @aquaminwrites | S2F2L Tattoo Artist AU | 47k

☆ ink petals by @yminie | S2F2L Florist AU, Tattoo Artist AU | 11k

☆ love is for the birds, baby by @mininky | (F)E2L Tattoo Artist AU, Author AU | 13k

☆ Arranged series by @minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong | ?2L Arranged Marriage AU, Chaebol AU | 111k

☆ punch drunk by @joonbird | R2L Boxer AU, Rival's Sister AU | 33k

☆ Sweet like Candy series by @lysjeon | E2L SMAU | ?k

☆ loser baby series by @dejayoonw | R2L SMAU, Witch AU, Uni AU, kind of Hogwarts AU | ?k

☆ heaven's winter by @jksangelic | Supernatural AU, Angel AU, Historical AU | 19k

☆ under the sun by @mirahuyooo | Greek Mythology AU, Greek Gods AU, Historical AU | 25k

Jung Hoseok

☆ baseline by @jiminrings | R2L Teacher AU | 3k

☆ Hot & Bothered by @sahmfanficbts | Gardener AU | 3k

☆ the art of war by @wwilloww | F2E2L Historical AU, Arranged Marriage AU, Royal AU | 5k

Park Jimin

☆ kiss the girl by @sketchguk | F2L Disneyland AU, Coworkers AU | 5k

☆ the happiest place on earth by @dovechim | F2L Disneyland AU, Coworkers AU | 24k

☆ florezco by @honeymoonjin | S2F2L Roommate AU | 24k

☆ Midnight Munchies by @yoongihime | Deliveryboy AU, Uni AU | 2k

Kim Taehyung

☆ good girls go bad series by @jkstompers | S2F2L Uni AU | 46k

☆ paper cranes by @aquaminwrites | F2L AU | 18k

☆ rubies and roses by @min-youngis | S2?2L Fake Dating AU, Chaebol AU | 40k

Jeon Jungkook

☆ Part-Time Lover by @sketchguk | Fake Marriage AU, Agent AU, Journalist AU, Spy x Family AU | 31k

☆ the art of series by @venusianguk | S2F2FWB2L Grocery Store AU, Single Parent AU | 95k+

☆ Heartbreak Trials by @dreamyjoons | R2L Roommate AU | 14k

☆ Stress Relief by @strawbkoo | F2L Roommate AU, Uni AU | 5k

☆ ego series by @suga-kookiemonster | F2L Uni AU, Fboy AU | 97k

☆ Confident series by @h0neypjm | FWB2L Uni AU, Fboy AU | 23k

☆ what money can buy by @jeonstudios | Sugar Baby AU | 18k

☆ rich people shit by @nochueso | S2L Uni AU, Chaebol AU, Sugar Daddy AU but you're the same age? idk | 11k

☆ Diamond in the Rough series by @kimvtae | S2F2L Chaebol AU | 25k

☆ glitter & disquiet series by @joheunsaram | Youtuber AU, Chaebol AU, CEO AU | 36k + drabble

☆ oxytocin by @chemicalpink | FE2L Chaebol AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 6k

☆ the lottery offering by @skswriting | S2L Werewolf AU, kind of Arranged Marriage AU | 22k

☆ to tame a god series by @jeonstudios | S2L Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU | 50k

☆ This Mortal Coil by @jinfizz | BFF2L Werewolf AU | 40k

☆ Temptation series by @aiimaginesbts | Werewolf AU | 25k

☆ Law of Nature by @ausblack | F2L Hybrid AU | ?k

☆ deal by @jeonstudios | S2L Demon AU | 20k

☆ calling you cool by @kithtaehyung | S2L Rock Band AU | 12k

☆ his by @thvhoe | R2L BBF AU, Band AU | 6k

☆ most undesirable by @kinktae | S2L Regency/Bridgerton AU | 5k

☆ bad delivery by @jeonstudios | Deliveryboy AU | 5k

☆ Accelerate series by @dreamscript | S2L Racer AU | 8k

Overall Favourite Authors (If I recc'd all their works like I want to/more than I have, I'd have to make this series even longer >.<)

☆ @eoieopda's masterlist

☆ @gimmethatagustd's masterlists (mxr) (mxm)

☆ @helenazbmrskai's masterlist

☆ @jeonstudios's masterlist

☆ @jjungkookislife's masterlist

☆ @jkstompers's masterlist

☆ @lovesickjoon's masterlist

☆ @sketchguk's masterlist

happy reading!