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therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year ago

Note

IBDIJEUIDJBEYAI

I JUST HAD A BIG BRAIN MOMENT!!

Kitten surprising Min with her old school uniform and a lil role play. His mind is racing from the skirt and the memories and he can like touch her how he always imagined her

-🥝

you're so absolutely right, kiwi. this was a humongous brain moment.

i've had this ask in my inbox since mid-august bc i just had to write something I HAD TO since it stirred something within me. thankfully, i recently figured out how i wanted to go about this, and finally got to writing it💜

Pairing: Werewolf!Minho x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series, but you probably don’t really need to read any of the other instalments to understand this one, although it's highly recommended!). | Word Count: ~3k | Themes & Warnings: Supernatural/Fantasy AU · Smut · Fluff · Established Relationship · role-playing as high schoolers (disclaimer: they’re both consenting adults fulfilling fantasies of their past, neither are genuinely attracted to minors in any way) · nipple play · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but reader is on birth control] · a smidge of a breeding kink · cumshot · barely proof-read as it usually is with these “drabbles”...

minors do not interact.

“Min–Minho…”

Oh, how sweet you sounded when you said his name like that… It was just how he’d dreamt it’d be. He’d heard you before, of course. But not in this situation, in this particular setting…

“My dad could be home anytime now–Oh, shit…” Your words got caught in your throat the second he bit one of your nipples. How could he not, when you were on his lap, with your uniform shirt open, and your bra just down enough for him to play with your chest.

“Shh, it’ll be fine, kitten”, Minho mumbled against the swell of your breast, leaving a love bite that he hoped would be visible when you wore one of your low tops. “If he were to come home, you know he doesn’t bother us when we’re doing our homework…”

You whined as soon as his mouth reattached to your nipple, as he gently rolled the other between his thumb and index finger… Your hands buried in his hair, keeping him close while you rolled your hips to find some friction against his crotch. The pressure had his mouth salivating further, borderline drooling all over your nipple like the dog he’d recently become.

Or, at least, in this fantasy, he had probably been turned a few years prior…

When you and Minho had come to your father’s house today to help him clean up some of your old stuff from your childhood room, Minho certainly hadn’t expected for the afternoon to take him right here. To him sitting on the edge of your bed, dressed in his school uniform, with you sitting on his lap, and dressed in your school uniform.

It had been such an impromptu thing… You found the pieces of clothing at the bottom of your dresser, forgotten from the last time you wore them in your final year. Back then, you always kept a spare change of Minho’s uniform for those nights when he unexpectedly stayed over.

‘Ohhhh, you should put it on. I used to love how the uniform looked on you’, you’d told him as you handed him the dress shirt with the school’s logo on it, and the white vest top he used to wear under it.

‘Alright, but only if you put on yours. The whole thing. I also loved how you looked in that uniform’, he’d told you immediately, because it was the truth. That plaid skirt and the white button-up used to make stellar appearances in his teenage-hormones-driven wet dreams.

He used to feel embarrassed about it. You were his best friend in this world, and the fact that he found himself daydreaming of how it’d look like if he took a peek under your skirt, or how it’d feel if he buried his face in your cleavage, certainly made him feel guilty.

Now, as an adult well into his twenties, after you both shared your affections, he no longer felt as guilty about it. Especially after learning that you yourself had those thoughts about him back then, too.

When you put on that uniform shy of fifteen minutes ago, Minho was reminded of all those thoughts he used to have, of all the sleepless nights and hidden chubs at school… It hit him then that maybe this was exactly why he loved seeing you in skirts so much in present day. A result of his teenage-self’s never fulfilled desires.

Sure, he couldn’t button his shirt since his shoulders and arms had broadened with age, and your skirt was certainly much shorter than it used to be, but that didn’t stop either of you from falling into your roles.

‘Mmm… It’s almost like we have just come back from school and are getting ready to get some work done’, you chuckled as you looked at yourself in the mirror and adjusted your thigh high socks.

That sentence alone lit up the bulb in his head, it sparked a naughty little idea that he knew you’d either entertain or laugh about. Either result was fine by him, so he had no qualms when he walked behind you, and looked at you through the mirror.

Calling your name as he placed his hands on your waist, Minho had asked you to turn around to face him. ‘There’s… there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for so long… Please don’t be mad…’

Minho feigned nervousness, like he was once again that boy that had seemingly unrequited feelings for his best friend.

‘I really, really like you… Can’t stop thinking about you. How’d it be like to kiss you, to feel you close in ways other than platonic. You’re my best friend, and I cherish that deeply, but I just… I like you so much’, funny thing, how those were pretty much the same words he’d wanted to say to you back then. Words he had practised in front of the mirror a few times, but he was always too much of a coward to actually tell you.

You looked at him in what Minho figured was feigned shock. Oh, how he loved you… You just knew him so well, and knew exactly what he was doing without saying a single word. ‘I… I like you, too. Have liked you for so long, Minho…’

Minho had cupped your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss. He kissed you as if he’d never done it before, desperately, hungrily, no time for being tender and soft when all he’d wanted was to devour you whole. And you had retaliated, of course. You’d pulled him close by the collar of his shirt and pressed your chest to his, kissing him with fervour.

‘Even if I’m… If I’m now…’ A beast, was what he wanted to say as he spoke between kisses. Minho had maybe fallen a little too well into this role of his younger self. He could still remember how insecure he used to be about his condition, how he looked down on himself after being infected with this goddamn lycanthropy… Those were feelings that no longer existed within him, he had now long since accepted this was part of him. If anything, with time, he’d embraced it.

‘I’d like you even if… Even if you were a worm’, you replied simply, making him giggle, which in turn made you giggle.

Minho scooped you into his arms after that, and he walked the remaining steps to your childhood bed so he could sit on it with you on his lap. In no time, he was groping you over your shirt, under your skirt, and you had started to beg for him to touch you more.

His instincts were stunted, you knew that, he knew that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have this animal side to him. Sometimes, especially when he was horny, that animalistic side of him took over his logical mind, and, back when he was a teen, he could recall having a harder time with certain feelings and emotions like these. So, he let them cloud his reason a bit as he fulfilled this little fantasy of his…

Minho ripped your shirt open, the buttons flew all over your room, and you gasped when he buried his head between your breasts. The thing was also a bit too tight on you, so he was sure you wouldn’t miss the garment if it got ripped a bit in the process.

You scrambled to take a hold of his hands, bringing them to your chest so he could fondle you over your bra, once again begging him to touch you. To ‘Please, please, Minho, touch me. I need it. I need you…’

And he was sure his cock was about to pop out of his jeans with how hard it got at your desperation.

So here you were, grinding into each other, on your childhood bed while Minho feasted on your tits.

“Fuck, that feels so good, baby. Harder. Do it harder…”

How could he deny you when you sounded so needy? When he’d wanted to do this for so long?

He bit harder, pinched harder, pulling strangled sounds of pleasure out of your lips. The more attention he gave to your chest, the more you rolled your hips against him, effectively pulling sounds of pleasure out of his lips.

His senses were flooded by you. The smell of your arousal on your lavender scent, your weight of him, the taste of your skin on his tongue, all combined had him almost delirious, especially when his free hand found its way under that godforsaken skirt of yours to tightly grope one of your buttocks.

“Baby, I think I’m… I might…”

Fuck, if you came just from him playing with your chest and you grinding your cunt on the tent in his jeans, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to contain himself. Although, he supposed coming in his underwear would’ve been a very accurate representation of what would’ve happened if his teenage self had ever had the opportunity to have you on him like this…

Minho couldn’t help but groan when you tightened your grip on his hair, when you started to roll your hips faster, harder… God, all he wanted right now was for the girl of his dreams to come, he needed to feel you trembling in his hold, to drown in your scent so he could convince himself this was happening.

Seeing you come, holding you tight while you did, was just absolutely delightful. You bit on your fist to keep your moans contained, while your whole body shook with your release.

Minho had to make the conscious effort not to blow right then and there. He was sure that if this had happened back when you were still that young, he would’ve certainly done so. He imagined that this would’ve probably been your first sexual experience together, that you’d laugh about how he soiled his underwear and how needy you’d been, before you laid down and cuddled for a bit…

Maybe you would’ve had sex a different time, on a different day where you were sure your dad wouldn’t come back home… But this wasn’t about being fully realistic, this was about having fun while fulfilling a shared fantasy.

“Fuck, Minho, baby, stop… I’m sore…”

Minho finally pulled himself away from your chest, mumbling a very unconvincing ‘Sorry’ before he attached his lips to the pulse point on your neck, relishing how fast your blood was pumping in your veins.

“You’re so fucking hot, my kitten. I’ve been dreaming of this moment, y’know?” He mumbled in your ear, taking one of your breasts in his hand to fondle the flesh, with special care to not stimulate your nipple too much.

“Me too, baby…” You were still trembling occasionally within his arms, taking deep breaths to get your racing heart to slow down inside your chest. “I’ve wanted this so bad… Even… Even touched myself thinking about it”.

“Mmm, fuck…” Minho started sucking love bites on your neck, following this faint need in his gut to leave his mark on you. “Have you?”

“I have… Sometimes, I did it while we slept in the same room”.

Minho wasn’t sure if this was you playing your fantasy, or if this was a real thing that happened, but, being honest, it didn’t matter. It made his mind disconnect completely as soon as the words came out of your mouth regardless.

Before he could even register it himself, he had stood up and thrown you on the bed, eliciting a shaky, surprised gasp from your lips. In a second, he was on you, kissing you hard, messily, even desperately. Your limbs wrapped around him, your arms around his neck, and your legs around his middle, bringing him further down to lay flush against you in your heated kiss.

He was dizzy, lightheaded, and for a second, he almost believed he was in the past, that he was making out with you on your bed after school, that he was about to lose his virginity to his best friend.

“Fuck, I need to put it in…” Minho barely detached his lips from yours while he spoke, just kept messily kissing you between words as he ground his hips to your core. “Please, please let me put it in… Need you…”

“We–we need a condom, Min”, your hands found their way under his top, where they settled to caress his back, making him shiver. “I don’t have any here”.

“Fuck, I don’t have any, either”, Minho left your lips to instead attach his own to your collarbones, to nibble on the sensitive skin, making you whine. “I’ll pull out. I got quick reflexes, it’ll be fine, please…”

He certainly was playing into this horny-teenage-boy thing all too well. Although, he was sure his younger self wouldn’t have been this stupid to believe just ‘pulling out’ would be an effective contraceptive, and surely neither would you. After all, back then, your dad made sure you both knew about being safe, which Minho was grateful for to this day.

Regardless, the very real implant you had in your arm made it so he could play like this, so you both could play like this.

“Shit, you’ll pull out?” Your hands trembled when they found his backside and squeezed him. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Promise, kitten. Cross my heart”.

One of your hands left his bum to move to his crotch, where you cupped and squeezed him and overall felt him over the fabric of his jeans. He couldn’t help but buck his hips to let you feel as much as you could of him. “Fuck, okay. But Min… I’m not sure this will fit…”

“It will. I’m sure it will. It has to. You trust me, no?”

With a deep breath, biting your lip, you nodded. “Trust you with my life”.

When Minho pulled himself away from your hold, he just had to tell you how fucking gorgeous you looked with your hair all messy, your tits out, your ripped shirt, and that fucking skirt… The hem pooled on your belly, exposing your underwear and the mouth-watering wet-patch on them.

God, he wanted a taste… But there wasn’t enough time for that right now.

Minho hastily unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them and his underwear down just enough to free his length. You swore under your breath, taking him into your hand and spreading the pre-cum that had beaded at the tip so you could easily stroke him.

“Baby, please…” You guided him to your core. With your free hand, you pulled your underwear to the side, and dragged the tip of his cock all over your folds. “Need it. Need you, Minho…”

One day you’d be the death of him, he was sure.

Under normal circumstances, Minho would’ve stretched you open with his fingers, he would’ve made sure you were absolutely ready to take that annoyingly big alpha cock of his. But he figured skipping the step would be a bit more… in character.

“Oh, fuck, fuck…” Minho pushed himself into your heat slowly, letting your walls adjust to his length with what he hoped wasn’t much discomfort. He knew that if there had been any, you would’ve said the word that would immediately stop everything you were doing. “That’s so fucking tight…”

You whined, not necessarily in discomfort, but in that way that made him know you were feeling impatient. Wrapping your legs around his hips, you tried to push on his backside to get him to get in already. “Please, I need it all. Now”.

“Shit–!” As soon as Minho bottomed out and had propped himself on his forearms, you took a hold of his hair and pulled him down for a messy kiss.

There was just so much spit. Everything was so sloppy and messy and he was honestly enjoying it way more than he ever thought he would.

“Fuck, you’re so hard… Can’t believe you fit”, you mumbled breathlessly against his lips, releasing his hair to place your hands on his back.

“Didn’t doubt–Shit, if you keep clenching like that I’ll come, kitten… Didn’t doubt I’d fit right in. Isn’t this cunt for me? Hm? Hasn’t it always been?” Minho didn’t even give you time to respond, he just started to thrust, a borderline animalistic pace that had you biting on his shoulder to muffle your moans.

There was nothing but heavy breaths and desperate groans and whines and moans… Nothing but the sound of skin slapping against skin and the headboard hitting the wall and your nails sinking on his clothed back…

Minho vaguely realised he was growling with each thrust. Like an animal. He was making all these sounds like the animal he was. And every time he did, your body just immediately reacted. Either by clawing at his back, or biting harder on his shoulder, or clamping hard around his length…

It was honestly driving him crazy. It reminded him that, ultimately, you accepted him, that you loved him just as he was. What an odd, but pleasant reflexion to make when you both were fucking, and pretending to be your teenage selves at that.

“It–It is”, you meekly mumbled after a while, and Minho, a bit puzzled, pulled himself away from your neck to look you in the eyes. “It’s yours. Has always been. I’ve always been”.

Minho swore loudly, throwing his head back once your words registered properly in his hazy mind. Your cunt was his, you were his. You’ve always been…

That reassurance, coupled with the vice grip of your walls, got him so incredibly close…

“Fuck, kitten, gonna come. Need to–need to pull out”, Minho was panting, drunk on the pleasure he was feeling and the fog clouding his reason.

Your legs tightened around his frame, keeping him as close as you could while he kept thrusting into you. “What if–What if you don’t?”

“Oh, God… Don’t say that…”

“Why? What if I want your puppies? Hm?”

He was going to die. Minho was sure he was seeing the gates of heaven open up right in front of him.

“C–can’t. We can’t…” Shaking his head, Minho tried his best to hold back, a titanic effort with how fucking good you were making him feel, with how fucking in love with you he was.

“Can’t…?” There was a pout on your lips, highlighted by your blown pupils, and Minho, once again, shook his head in response.

Minho just desperately shook his head. “Kitten, baby, please…”

The hold of your legs relented. Minho immediately straightened himself and pulled out of your warmth to take his cock in one of his hands while the other gripped your hip tightly. One, two pumps and he was groaning deeply, coming all over your underwear, over your mound and your now only partially exposed folds.

The sight was nothing short of exquisite. Your wrinkled, open shirt, your tits still falling out of your bra, with your nipples slightly puffy after all the attention Minho had given them, the skirt hunched at your waist, and your underwear drenched in his cum…

Minho felt light, satisfied, and, as he tried to catch his breath, he just took you in.

After a few moments of silence–silence, save for the sound of your heavy breathing and the ringing in his ears–a grin made its way to your face, and, a second after, you broke into laughter. It made him laugh, too. Maybe uncontrollably so.

“Oh, that was awesome”, you chuckled, wiping the tears that had collected in your eyes at your outburst. “So good”.

“Totally agree”, Minho leaned into you to press a brief kiss on your lips before he left the bed to find a face towel from your dresser to clean up the stupid amounts of cum that had come out of his stupid monster cock off of your body.

“‘Suppose it was a good thing that my dad isn’t coming until very late today. It would’ve been seriously awkward to explain what was going on if he found us… Well, like this”, you started shrugging your shirt off as soon as Minho had finished cleaning you up, and proceeded to work the couple of buttons on your skirt.

“I don’t think he would’ve appreciated the sight, to be honest”, Minho chuckled, getting out of his shirt and vest top as well to put his t-shirt back on and do his jeans.

As soon as you two were dressed properly and in clean clothes, you both laid back down, unbothered by the soiled sheets. Minho simply pulled you into his arms, and pressed a brief kiss on your forehead before he hugged you close.

“Kitten…” Minho mumbled against your hair after a while, dragging his hand up and down your back in a gentle caress. “Was that true?”

You absentmindedly traced patterns on his chest, shapes that he could’ve sworn were hearts and stars. “Was what true?”

“Y’know… that thing about… About you touching yourself while I was in the same room…”

You pulled yourself away from his hold a bit so you could look him in the eyes. A smile came to your lips, right before you started opening your mouth to speak.

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sel-enha-phile · 8 days ago

Text

A Symphony of Midnight

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

✩ Enhypen x Fem!Reader ✩ Word Count: 3.3k ✩ Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol, Death, Blood, War ✩ ✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩ When an ancient relic shatters and the treaty safeguarding peace between humans and vampires is broken, Y/N Valerian finds herself accused of the unthinkable—the murder of her father and the destruction of the relic. Thrust into a perilous world of supernatural intrigue, she becomes entangled with the Seven Vampire Princes of the Anaima bloodline.

Amid rising tensions, political machinations, and the looming threat of war, Y/N must navigate a labyrinth of deception while grappling with a forbidden love that defies centuries-old laws. But the greatest revelation lies within herself: her blood holds the power to either doom the world to annihilation or offer its ultimate salvation. ✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

The grand chamber of the Valerian Estate gleamed with lavish splendor, its polished marble floors reflecting the soft glow of countless candles suspended in crystal chandeliers. Every surface seemed to catch the light, amplifying the grandeur of the occasion. The air was alive with a symphony of voices- human and vampire mingling in a precarious sort of harmony.

For two centuries, the Luminis Accord had upheld an uneasy peace between the two races, and tonight’s bicentennial celebration was meant to further solidify that fragile coexistence.

You lingered at the very edge of the crowd where your existence went unnoticed; a goblet of wine resting idly in your hand, its deep crimson swirling as you moved your wrist absently. It wasn't that you preferred to drink all that much. In all honesty the stench of liquor of any sort made your stomach churn and your head quite a bit dizzier than one's normal state of tipsiness. So, a lack of sobriety is not something you often found yourself aiming for, lest your mind needed clearing.

Tonight was one of those nights. For some reason your senses were on high alert, and it brought an ostentatious unease to you as if you were apart from yourself. You stand to be around vampires tonight; but oddly enough it bothered you even more to be around your own kind.

Your eyes traced the room before landing on your father, Lord Callan Valerian. He moved through the sea of dignitaries with a confidence that seemed effortless, his silver hair catching the chandelier's light as though it were a crown.

It would make sense if it were. He was what could be equivalent to royalty in your world. His great- great grandfather had been the one to present the Luminis Accord to the vampires; so to the current assembly and those before, anyone of the valerian blood was a symbol of unity, the architect of a treaty that had held firm against decades of doubt and mistrust- a leader in the simplest sense.

For decades there was only men born to the Valerian blood- the product of what many believed to be a curse used in the making of the treaty- seven sons to a family to mirror the seven Princes. Your father's only heir was you.

At first many questions your father's lineage due to only you being born- a female. The first since the making of the treaty. Had your father went against the rules?

The rules were simple. Any women born the same year as the one of Valerian blood were for selection- as long as they were pure.

It was a rather stupid rule you felt, in the times you lived in. But your mother was the same age as your father. And to everyone's knowledge had been celibate up until her betrothal. Did he have relations with someone other than a woman you had called your mother?

It didn't seem that way at your mother's deathbed. Your young self-remembered vividly just how loud your father had wailed. As if he was grieving even beyond your mother's life.

After her death he put so much into leading, even the Ambassadors and Council members who used to be against him vied for his attention, their deference a testament to his influence. He was their savior.

To you, he was simply Father- a man of uncompromising principles and even stricter expectations, whose shadow you had never fully stepped out of.

Yet tonight, something about him was different. His expression, always composed, carried a tension that was hard to ignore. His smiles were fleeting, forced, and his words to the assembled guests felt more measured than usual. Beneath his polished exterior, a weight pressed on him, and you could feel it in the fleeting glances he cast across the room, the wrinkles in his face, the crease in his brows, as if anticipating a threat no one else could see.

"Y/N, my lovely child," he had said earlier, his hand firm but uncharacteristically warm on your shoulder. "Stay close tonight, alright?"

The request had surprised you. He rarely spoke to you so directly during public events, much less asked for your presence. Usually, your role was ceremonial- a silent reminder of the continuation of the Valerian lineage. You were no diplomat, no tactician, no leader- even if one day you were expected to be one. You were a historian, content to study the echoes of the past rather than shape the present. That was your passion. A choice your father had long viewed with quiet disappointment, though he had grudgingly accepted it.

You had nodded, offering no protest, as he pet your head- the first he had done since you were a child; but now his words lingered in your mind, heavier than they had felt earlier. Standing alone amid the thrumming energy of the room, you couldn’t shake the feeling that they carried a warning you hadn’t understood.

He hadn’t smiled. Not even once to anyone else. But the small smile he gave before strutting off set in your heart like a heavy stone.

The unease in your chest deepened, and you found yourself wishing you had pressed him for more. Why tonight of all nights? What had he seen- or feared -that made him act so unlike himself? The question lingered, unanswered, as the crowd swirled around you in blissful ignorance.

Was it perhaps what you had confronted him about? The truth behind the Luminis Accord? How it wasn't offered as peace but more so-

Your thoughts were interrupted by a sharp crash of breaking glass. Subtle, almost imperceptible to the human ear, but distinct enough to snag your attention. You looked out at the crowd, no heads turning save for a few miscellaneous councilmen from the vampiric side. And even the vampires playing in the string quartet.

You turned, your frown deepening, knowing you didn't imagine what you heard. Maybe no other human was close enough? So you made your way in the direction of the noise, which led towards a small antechamber that led to the diplomats' counsel room.

Then came the scream.

It was high and piercing, cutting through the air like a blade, causing you to rush. The music stuttered into silence for a split second; but you barely register that as you pushed through the door, recognizing the scream all too well. Dread coiled in your chest as your feet moved of their own accord, heart pounded, each step quickening until you reached the room. The sight before you stole the breath from your lungs.

Slumped against the polished wood of his desk was your father, his body framed by a pool of blood that seeped into the intricate weave of the ornate rug. His skin, once so full of vitality, was pallid and waxen, his eyes fixed on nothing as he coughed out blood. At his feet lay the shattered remains of the Relic of Luminis Accord; its crystal fragments glinting like cruel stars in the dim light.

“Father?” The word left your lips as a whisper, trembling and fragile. You dropped to your knees beside him, hands hovering, useless and shaking, over his stilling form. He had a slit in his throat, accompanied with two small puncture marks. And a large wound in his abdomen.

The coppery scent of blood was thick and cloying, turning your stomach as tears blurred your vision.

"Listen." Your father sputtered, his blood landing on your dress. "I broke...long ago." His eyes were wide. "The treaty. It's my fault. You're in danger." He coughed once more, slumping against you. Your eyes were frantic as you tried to cover the bleeding.

Do I cover his abdomen or this cut in his throat-

"Father-"

"Don't. Trust them...my child-"

“What have you done?!”

The voice jolted through you like a whip crack. Sharp, accusing. You spun to see Prince Sunghoon standing in the doorway, his silhouette stark against the flickering glow of the main hall. His hand rested on the hilt of his blade- as if he couldn't finish someone with his bare hands. His expression, usually so unreadable, was etched with tension as his gaze flicked between you, your father, and the shattered relic.

Before you could speak, Prince Jake stepped into the room, halting abruptly as the scent of blood hit him. His face twisted, fangs elongating involuntarily. A hand shot up to cover his mouth, his breaths ragged and shallow as he tried to wrest control from the primal hunger clawing at his senses.

“I’ve never craved like this before,” Jake muttered, his voice muffled and hoarse. His shoulders shook, his darkened eyes fixed on the blood soaking into the rug.

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened, his own fangs pressing against his lower lip as he fought the same battle. The stench of death was undeniable, but beneath it was something else- something potent and intoxicating and delicious that set his instincts ablaze. He forced his gaze away from your father’s lifeless form, focusing instead on the relic’s jagged shards.

“The relic is destroyed,” he said, his voice low and steady, though his mind reeled. The relic had been more than a mere artifact. It was a safeguard, a delicate tether holding the balance between human and vampire. Its destruction wasn’t just a tragedy- it was a declaration of war.

But it's not as if a human- regardless of political positioning would know that.

Should, know that.

His gaze snapped back to you. You, kneeling in the blood of Lord Callan, with the relic’s shattered remains glinting at your feet. The image was damning, undeniable.

Footsteps echoed behind him, hurried and insistent. The other princes arrived, followed by a flood of nobles and guards, their collective presence suffocating the room. The murmurs swelled into an uproar, a sea of voices crying out for answers, for retribution.

You looked up, your eyes connecting with the one damning you.

“Seize her!” The command rang out from the eldest prince, sharp and unyielding.

Hands closed around your arms, hauling you to your feet with a force that left you reeling.

"FATHER-" You thrashed instinctively, panic surging as the weight of the accusations pressed down on you. Grief twisted into raw, frantic denial, but the faces around you were cold, unrelenting.

The room blurred as you were dragged towards the center of the ballroom, where the party had now stopped, your please not even being allowed to be swallowed by the tide of voices. Silence happening in almost an instant.

It was happening too fast, a nightmare spiraling out of control, and no one would listen. The truth was trapped in your throat, smothered by the crushing weight of grief and the suffocating certainty of your father’s death.

The princes- all seven of them -stood in a line, their presence commanding even amidst the chaos.

Heeseung stepped forward, his expression unreadable as his gaze swept over you. He held up a hand, and the room fell silent.

“Y/N Valerian,” he said, his voice cold and measured. “You stand accused of breaking the Luminis Accord and the murder of the human Lord Callan Valerian. An act of treason not only against both your kind and ours; but your own blood. What do you have to say in your defense?”

“I didn’t-” you began, but your voice faltered. You looked around the room, at the faces of those who had known your father, who had once treated you with kindness. Now, their eyes were filled with suspicion, their expressions hardened with fear. "I didn't kill him! Why would I-"

“Enough!” Heeseung’s voice rang out, slicing through your protest like a blade. “The evidence is clear. Lord Callan is dead. The relic is destroyed. And you were the only one found at the scene.”

“It wasn’t me!” you cried, desperation choking your voice. “I would never- he was my father, for the sake of all that’s holy!”

“You stand to gain the most from his death,” Jungwon said, his tone steady yet cutting. The younger prince’s gaze bore into you, calculating. “Not only do you inherit his political influence, but you also gain unrestricted access to…further your historical pursuits, do you not?”

"Thats not...that's not true." You wavered.

“And yet, here we are,” Sunghoon murmured, his voice quieter but no less condemning. His eyes lingered on you, heavy with an unspoken question, as though searching for cracks in your resolve.

“I desire none of his power!” Your voice rose, firm and unyielding, despite the tears stinging your eyes. “My father knew that- you all knew that!” You thrashed against the iron grip of the guards holding you. “I have no wish to be a pawn in your games. I have no wish to be used by you or anyone else!”

The air in the chamber grew taut, the princes exchanging glances as murmurs rippled through the room like a brewing storm.

“You think I don’t see it?” you spat, eyes blazing as they darted from one prince to the next. Sunoo blinked slowly at you, and in an instant his face changed as he mouthed something that made Jay and Ni-ki's head turn and Sunoo made the movement of coming towards you. “The imbalance, the lies, the convenience of all of this. Don’t you vampires have the most to gain from this farce? Why don’t you tell everyone the truth about what the relic really was-”

In a blur of movement, Sunoo was in front of you, his hand clamping over your mouth. His eyes gleamed, something you couldn't place harbored in them, as he leaned close. “Not another word.” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. Nearly inaudible. "Or else I can't help you." He said, his voice softening. You looked up with a questioning gaze, everything feeling like it was happening in a matter of seconds. Slowly, he withdrew his hand, the look in his eyes and the gaze he then threw towards Jungwon making your jaw twitch.

“What do we do with her?” Jake’s voice broke the silence, tight and strained. His eyes avoided yours, focusing instead on the bloodstains still marring your clothes. You saw the flicker of hunger in his expression, quickly smothered, but not before it chilled you to your core.

At least he had the audacity to look ashamed.

“Hand her over!” a voice from the human delegation rang out. It was your father’s advisor, Sir Chetaire- the man you’d once called uncle. His wrinkled hands wrung together as he addressed the princes, his voice trembling with poorly disguised fear. “Let the princes deal with her. Surely that will…quell the unrest.” He got onto his knees, as if ready to worship the ground the princes stood on.

One of the vampire guards stepped forward but not before Jungwon raised his hand, cocking his head as if considering the propsal.

Your heart twisted, the betrayal cutting deeper than you thought possible. “You can’t be serious.” Your voice shook, disbelief and fury clawing at your composure. “You know me, Chetaire! You’ve known me my entire life. You know-”

“Silence her!” another voice hissed, igniting a flurry of accusations.

“Hand her over!”

“Murderer!”

“She killed her own father!”

Glasses began to be thrown and in an instant the humans were in upheaval that even the Vampires didn't know how to calm.

The cacophony of voices merged into a deafening roar. But you still heard Jungwon's steady voice: "Take her."

Your knees wavered as the guards tightened their grip and dragged you forward, your heel getting caught in one of the indents of the tile, allowing your foot to be bare; the world around you tilting and distorting into a surreal nightmare.

Your mind raced, desperately grasping for explanations, for anything that could piece this madness into coherence. But there was nothing. No reprieve. Only the cruel, unyielding truth:

Your father was dead, and they had cast you as the villain in a tragedy not of your making.

The celebration was long over now; humans being escorted towards the entrance- you into what you could only assume was something much more damning then the winter cold outside.

As you were escorted out before the entirety of the guests, a murmur of unease rippled through the hall, though none dared voice it aloud. Somewhere within the depths of their variant eyes, you glimpsed something fleeting in few- a flicker of doubt, or was it pity? Whatever it was, it held no power to alter your fate.

You were being offered to the ones you once called enemies. Whether as a pawn for interrogation or a sacrifice for execution, the outcome remained uncertain.

What was certain, however, was the terror etched into the faces of your people. You knew better than anyone why you had been given up so easily- when you knew no one would have dared under revere for your father.

They stood silent and trembling, a stark contrast to the unyielding resolve glimmering in the eyes of the vampires of the council who bore witness.

The princes carried an aura of dominion so profound it felt oppressive, a quiet power that all recognized but none dared acknowledge aloud.

Your people had surrendered you in the hopes of appeasing these ancient forces, of forestalling the inevitable clash of fangs and steel.

Yet deep down, you knew the truth: the pact was a farce. The treaty had always been for naught.

These beings were utterly insatiable, their hunger not only for blood but for dominance eternal.

As you were whisked away into the depths of their domain, you couldn’t ignore the strain etched into the faces of the seven royals. Something primal lingered beneath their regal façades, a predatory edge sharpened to a blade’s whisper.

Your gaze locked on two of them- Jake and Jay, who were like statues hewn from moonlight, even in movement. They had always been the most composed according to ancient record, even now they were the ones humanity trusted most, yet even their eyes betrayed an agony that cut to the bone.

Sunoo and Heesung were the only ones fully in front of you, the tension in the eldest shoulders telling you a tale you weren't sure you wanted to know the extent of. Sunoo seemed to be saying something to him.

Behind you, Ni-ki and Sunghoon and Jungwon flanked your steps, silent as specters. When your eyes met the youngest's, a flicker of something indefinable passed between you. Recognition? Regret? It was gone before you could grasp its meaning.

You longed to cry out, to scream a warning to the humans who had sent you here. But your voice remained caged, like a bird caught in a storm.

The implications of Sunoo's earlier words felt like hands around your throat.

"Not another word. Or else I can't help you."

Still you wish you could say. Warn-

Run.

Run as far and as fast as you can.

The relic your ancestors had eagerly handed over centuries ago was no symbol of peace. It was a shield. A shield forged in desperation- a desperate protection against the very monsters they had now chosen to appease. A shield those same monsters had agreed upon accepting in times of comradery. Those times had long passed.

Now that the relic was destroyed they were free to do as they pleased.

And your poor, ignorant kind- in their blind hope to avert a war, they had likely sealed their doom.

With the shattering of the Relic and the death of your father, the line had been crossed.

War was not just inevitable.

It was destiny.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩ Ahh! First post ono my sideblog! It might take a little bit longer for me to upload this story- since as I mentioned this is my sideblog :)! But I will be doing my best to update this story as fast as possible! I hope whoever reads this enjoys! ✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

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cinnamon-won · 6 months ago

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Husband!Jake x wife!reader [here]

You and Jake had finally taken the big step and bought an apartment together. So what better way to celebrate your first night in the new place than to let Jake go down on you and reward you for all the hard work.

Idol!Sunghoon x non-idol!reader [here]

Pretty cliche, but you couldn't help but tease Sunghoon while he was live. He talked about anything and everything whilst shamelessly eyeing you up. You were surprised Sunghoon was letting this slide, but all that ran through his mind was that two could play at this game.

Ex!Heeseung x fem!reader

Sure, the break-up hurt, but you weren't about to let Heeseung know that. Instead, you decided to show him what he was missing out on. Kill him with kindness and really make him regret his choices. What could go wrong?

DJ!Jake x fem!reader [here]

The party was loud, with drinks, dances and a devilishly handsome DJ. Jake noticed the way you looked at him, the way your eyes grew hungry every time you watched him press a switch or spin the disc. "Want to see what else these hands can do?" he asked and of course you gladly took him up on the offer.

#cina🌙: poll #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen jake #enhypen heeseung #enhypen sunghoon #jake sim #park sunghoon #sim jaeyun #lee heeseung #jake hard thoughts #heeseung hard thoughts #sunghoon hard thoughts #jake smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut #cina🌙

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drunk-on-dk · 2 years ago

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wow my first time here for hard hours…

headempty just brothersbff!dokyeom coming over to u (and ur brothers) house for da first time to tutor ur brother cuz he’s a lil braindrad,, still unknowning of the houses’ layout,, dokyeom walks into you fingering urself and observes how ur fingers r way too short to do anything rly pleasurable n helps u like the good friend he is :(( I WANNA WRITE AB THIS SO BAD BUT WRITERS BLOCK IS SO CRAY!!!

lee..... you're kidding me.... please come here for hard hours whenever because this made my brain turn in ways that I cannot explain..... ok so I thought this would be a drabble, but I spiraled below and I HOPE YOU ENJOY (also i've been struggling with writer's block so this totally helped get my creative thoughts running again thx u)

Prompt/Pairing: Brother's Best Friend!Seokmin x fem!reader

Genre: SMUT just pure filth (minors DNI)

w/c: ~2.5k (not a DRABBLE oops)

content warnings and prompt under the cut

c/w: no pronouns, but fem bodied reader; masturbation; use of a vibrator; walking in on reader, but consent is KEY when continuing; DK has long fingers AKA pro at fingering in this

Lee Seokmin, kindly referred to as DK, a nickname coined by your idiotic brother years ago when he had first met the overly kind boy back in grade school. DK was an all-rounder, which was known very well throughout your years trailing your brother and him in school. Of course, DK was popular for his looks, overall bright attitude, humorous side, and intelligence.

The boy was an enigma throughout his entire high school career, so you had no choice but to crush on your brother’s best friend. You couldn’t help it when he’d flash you his signature smile every time he’d pick you and your brother up for school, or when he'd gift you the occasional snack on exam mornings – which, of course, would go untouched in your backpack since you cherished the sacred gift so much.

However, you were able to see him at his worst over the years, especially the clumsier and louder sides of him when he’d spend the night over at your house almost every weekend. His boisterous voice would permeate through closed doors - even when he was a few rooms away - while your brother and he would play video games until the crack of dawn. Another oddity included that time he had mistaken your toothbrush as his own for weeks on end, only admitting his fault weeks later when he had run into you in the hallway late one night, almost as if he was fearful that you’d confront him even though you had no clue.

Eventually, you grew annoyed with the boy as you got older, your high school crush no longer blinding you to the fact that he was just another one of your brother’s loud, teasing friends, even if he was damn cute. Regardless, Dokyeom still took care of you like you were his own friend, as you were close in age to your brother, and he always considered you as part of the group. He was always sure to include you in plans even if your brother didn’t, making sure you had a comfortable high school experience, and continuing to gift you snacks on exam days – even if you didn’t blush profusely like you used to.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, you had followed in your brother’s footsteps and decided to attend the same college as him, which ironically enough, DK had chosen the same college as well. The duo was still thriving more than ever even when they had found other friends in their separate majors. DK was also still roped into tutoring your brother in his classes, even though he had passed them semesters ago himself.

You had just moved in with your brother after your first year, and you two had decided to save some money and just commit to sharing an apartment a mile off campus. It was easy living with him, especially because you two had similar friend groups and could comfortably coexist. You also enjoyed the privacy it gave you, as your brother spent most of his time at his frat house even though he had his own place, typically crashing on one of his brothers’ futons every weekend.

You took advantage of this, blasting music when you’d get ready for your own nights out, or spending nights like tonight shamelessly binging a show or whatever book you were reading, eventually getting bored and pleasuring yourself in the serenity of your quiet apartment.

It was still early in the night, but, good God, you had been strung out all week. Midterms were finally coming to an end, and all you could think about was a little R&R, possibly channeling that energy through a quick orgasm.

However, it was anything but quick tonight. You had been squirming around for maybe half an hour now, a slight sheen to your flushed skin, and a vibrator pressed firmly against your clit after you decided your fingers wouldn’t suffice.

Your sheets were surely a mess at this point from how tightly you were gripping them from desperately chasing the high that your body wouldn’t grant you. Just when you thought you were close, a pathetic half-moan would leave your lips every time the building pleasure would ebb away.

You were frustrated, but you were determined. Pulling out all the tricks now, your spare hand and fingers played with your perked nipples, unable to restrain your body from arching into the bed to further press your throbbing clit against the devilish, vibrating toy.

The only thing that broke you out of your wanton fervor was a single knock at your bedroom door – which the knock was appreciated, giving you just enough time to scramble to cover yourself with a throw blanket, but whoever the intruder was waited for just a pause before throwing your door open – coming eye to eye with none other than the boisterous DK.

“Ready to study and then whoop some ass on -" DK stopped mid-sentence, jaw slack as his backpack fell to his side upon realizing this was not your brother's room. To be fair, DK had only been here once or twice since you and your brother moved apartments recently; your previous one had a roof-leak, and this place was temporary until the latter would be renovated by the end of the semester.

Surely, you both looked like deer in headlights staring at each other. DK surveyed you for a second, saucer-like eyes tracing you from head to toe, drinking in the way your chest rose and fell underneath the tiny, fluffy throw blanket that gave you some sense of decency. You could almost see the lightbulb go off in DK’s head when he realized what he had walked into, the not-so-quiet whirring of the vibrator in the background only confirming his suspicions.

“Oh my god,” he starts, internally cursing himself when his jeans begin to tighten ever so slightly around his crotch. It’s almost as if he forgot how to walk or speak, but he can’t deny that this is a fantasy he’s had one too many times. “Were you-?”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, already immensely embarrassed that he walked in on you so hot-and-bothered. It was almost comical how the vibrating sound came to a halt, awkwardly searching for the button on the toy beneath the sheet and finally successfully turning the device off. “We can just act like this never happened, my brother isn’t here since I’m assuming that’s who you were looking for, and we can just go about our night without discussing further.”

Woefully, you could almost get off to the sight of just him, maybe you’d tuck the memory of him into your arsenal to finally finish yourself off later tonight. You weren’t sure if it was the arousal that was clouding your mind from touching yourself for so long, but you swore you’d never seen his kind eyes look so dark and carnal. And fuck, he looked good as per usual, boyishly handsome in denim jeans, and a white tee hugging his biceps perfectly.

You felt even more flustered when he just continued to stare at you, not making any effort to lift the backpack at his feet, nor to exit your room when you look at him expectantly. With a groan, you run a hand over your beet-red face, about to question if he is going to leave until he speaks before you do.

“Are you just going to return to what you were doing?” His voice is strained, deeper in tone than his typically chirpy sound.

You stare back at him dumbly, readjusting the blanket around your body so you can sit comfortably on the side of your bed. “M-Maybe, why does it matter to you? Like I said, we can just forget about this.”

He does the opposite of what you’d expect, rather than leaving your room he takes a step towards you. The heat burns in your belly even more, your body reacting and tingling each step he takes closer towards you.

“How long have you been alone in here?” It’s so out of character how hazy and stormy his eyes become, how husky his voice sounds, and how you feel your increasing heartbeat at your core when you realize just how big and tall he is.

“U-um,” you squeak out, shriveling in his presence, unsure of where all his confidence came from as he continues to eye you down. Maybe it’s the nerves, but you begin to spill out details of the frustrating night you’ve had thus far. “It’s been a long week DK - I just needed to unwind. My damn fingers won’t get the job done, so I’m using this stupid toy. This is pathetic and embarrassing, and why are you getting so close to me?”

“Can you show me?” He asks almost innocently, voice soft and tempting as he kneels in front of where you’re sitting on the bed. He repeats himself when you fail to stutter out a response. “Can you show me how you were using your fingers?”

You feel like you’re in a trance, heart, and body reacting before your sensible mind can stop you. This is a bad idea, you should just say no and kick him out, but the way his eyes remained locked on yours as you slowly nod is enough to encourage you to drop the blanket wrapped around you. Screw it, even as much as you'd like to say your crush on him faded, it never really did.

He lets out a strained sigh when you reveal your body to him, the only thing covering you is the flimsy tank top that’s bunched at your waist, only indicating further how desperate you had been.

“Are you OK with showing me?”

“Y-yes,” you gasp out, gradually opening your legs for him to see your most intimate self, evidence of an impending orgasm clear from the sight of your swollen clit and wet thighs from your dripping slit. The whimper that escapes his lips makes your eyes roll back, fingers absentmindedly tracing over your folds and making you whimper with him.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart,” he’s whispers as he intently watches the pad of your thumb rub at your clit, “Such small hands and little fingers, no wonder you’ve been touching yourself for so long.”

You buck your hips upwards when you finally let your pointer and middle fingers glide in between your folds, carefully pumping the two in and out of yourself and biting back a moan when DK leans even closer towards your core.

“It’s not enough,” your voice is breathy as you pout, grinding your hips into the palm of your hand as your fingers do a not-so-satisfactory job. You’re falling back now, wrapped up in your arousal once again as your head hits the pillowy mattress beneath you.

“Of course, it’s not,” DK coos, standing up to tower above where you now lay, one knee finding real estate between your legs as you so urgently keen into your hand. “You can fit another finger inside of you, maybe that will help.”

You listen to him, fitting a third finger inside of you, yet they don’t reach deep enough to provide you enough pleasure.

“Oh,” he almost sounds patronizing, “they’re too short, aren’t they?”

You’d almost think he was messing with you if it wasn’t for the way his breathing picked up when you let out a desperate cry, a rough groan bubbling from his chest when your thighs tightened around his own leg slotted between yours.

“Yeah, t-they are,” you cry out, trying your hardest to not shift down the bed and start grinding against his leg.

“Can I help?”

“God, I thought you’d never ask. P-Please.”

Just like that, DK’s deft fingers are at your core, long digits running between your folds to collect your slick before teasingly probing at your center.

“I said please,” you moan out, practically begging as your hips chase his hand when he continues to pump just the tips of his fingers tauntingly and shallowly inside of you.

He almost growls when his fingers fill you completely, the way your walls sucked him in was enough to have him wanting more. In order to get closer to you, DK collapses next to you, one thigh still slotted between your legs and his free arm propping him up above where your heated chest rises with each needy breath.

“You take my fingers so well, sweetheart,” he whines out, unable to stop himself from pressing his lips against your neck especially when your body is arching against his with each pump of his fingers inside you. “Can’t believe you're still this tight after playing with yourself for so long.”

Your own hands are desperately gripping his arms, nails digging into the firm muscles as he trails hot kisses across your neck and chest. Your body shakes in need when he hits a spot deep inside of you, pressing against that spongey spot that has your thighs tensing up with each expert curl of his long fingers.

You know you’re babbling at this point, something about how good he’s making you feel, something about how hot he is, something about how you’ll need his fingers all the time now.

This only eggs DK on, his supporting arm shaking as he sets a brutal pace, fingers pumping in and out and each ministration feeling delicious against your walls. You let out a scream when his thumb encounters your clit, making him press even closer against you to hold your needy hips down as he fingers you so perfectly.

You’ve been encapsulated by him at this point, everything about him is big and tall and long, and your mind goes a bit haywire wondering if that applied to really everything, the obvious bulge contained by his jeans only making your mind wander to dirtier places.

“Is this enough, sweetheart?” His lips are pressed into your neck, teeth nipping gently at the shell of your ear as he desires to hear some more praise and feedback from you.

“God,” you moan out, thighs shaking as his thumb rolls in circles over your clit, chest pressing against his as he smiles against your ear. This isn’t enough – actually – you want all of him. But yet it is, the world around you begins to spin as you feel your impending release finally bursting inside of you. “Fuck, this is more than enough. God, I’m g-gonna finish.”

“Finish, sweetheart, use my fingers.”

You’ve never come so hard from just fingers, not even with past lovers, but DK’s long fingers have your walls spasming and tightening around them, hips finally falling still as you gush around the digits. You feel euphoric, your release washing over your body as you come to.

You thought maybe your post-orgasm clarity would snap you back into reality, reminding you that you just had the best fingering of your life from your brother’s best friend, making the situation awkward and panicking upon realization, but you do exactly the opposite.

“Do you need help now, DK?”

#seventeen smut #svt smut #svthub #lee seokmin smut #dokyeom smut #dk smut #lee dokyeom smut #seokmin smut #thank you lee <3 ily for this #asks 🌙#lovely moots 💫

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katvazamo · 1 year ago

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youtube algorithm be algorithm-ing

#brennan lee mulligan #college humor #dropout #um actually #dimension 20 #fantasy high #burrows end #a crown of candy #dnd #*#this is so funny snjsksksls #they way the photos sync up #side by side of each other #magical 🌙✨#luv brennan 💗❤️

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aceofvernons · 1 year ago

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literally everytime i see vernon, i’m like xan would love this!! <333

YOU'RE 100% RIGHT BUT THANK YOU FOR THINKING OF ME 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

i'm also going to answer your other ask here but YES HE WAS SO CUTE <33333333333333333333 AND WONU WAS SO CUTE TOO <333333333333333 THEY'RE BOTH SO DARLING IN THIS EPISODE AND I'M SO <33333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

but most importantly i'm so so sooo <3333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333 for you <333

#asks #lee 🌙#i don't remember if i have an emoji for you or not 😭😭😭#but you're so near and dear to my heart and i say that about so many people on caratblr i'm just super bad at keeping in touch </333333333

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iovestuck · 13 days ago

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TO ALL THE BOYS I'VE LOVED BEFORE (PS. I STILL LOVE YOU) . 이희승

STARINGS.. elementary crush ! lee heeseung × female oc

SYNOPSIS.. Do you remember having a crush in elementary school? For her, it was a feeling that never truly faded. She never told him but wrote letters—letters filled with everything she couldn’t express. Over the years, those letters became a secret part of her. Then, one day, to her surprise, the letters reached their intended recipient, especially the ones meant for her 4th grade crush. What started as a quiet, hidden affection now had the chance to be revealed.

GENRES.. coming of age, fluff, angst, collage au, crushes to lovers, romance, written + smau, etc.

WARNINGS.. strict parents, depression, mental health issues, today's society, teenage love, women discrimination, discrimination, eating disorders, blood, drinking (of age), vomiting, nauseous, sleep deprivation, insomnia, hospitals, neglection, isolation, introverts, harassments, sexual assaults, crushes, suggestive scenes, parties, under the influence, peer pressure, asian stereotypes, physical fights, arguments, expectations, breakups, friendship breakups, etc.

ages under 17 recommend reading with caution !

IOVESTUCK'S NOTES.. welcome to the first member of the series! I am so excited to start working on this fic. There will be some drama in this pic, I hope it isn't as boring. Some of the thoughts I have when I had a boy crush. Most of the scenes are what I want to have, but never got the chance to experience it and probably won't until my late twenties or in my thirties. Heeseung will be something in this fic, so hope you are ready to cringe or blush. One of those or even both.

INSPIRED BY.. lovely runner, love next door, all of the boys series, xo, kitty, 20th century girl, when i fly towards you, and so much more!

TAGLIST.. @samouryed , @ikeulove , @enhypenlovre , If you want to be added to Heeseung's taglist, please only send an ask as my notifications can be messy, and your notes/comments won't be seen.

series list . characters . playlist . aesthetics .

MASTERLIST

00.

01.

02.

03.

04.

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funfactory · 3 months ago

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moonbyulsstuff · 5 months ago

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Hiii Can I request a James lee ( Lookism ) x Introvert Male!reader who often dresses in "feminine" clothes and who likes makeup plz please ?

I Just Like The Way You Are.

Male Reader

Requested.

Request Rules.

Masterlist.

Finally!! A James Lee requestt, you guys don't know how much I love this man 😭😭😭😭

James watched as [Name] did his makeup in front of his vanity mirror, he watched with interest at how his boyfriend was able to do his makeup so easily like it was 2nd nature.

He leaned against the the palm of his hand, as he watched from behind. [Name] caught James staring at through the mirror, he blushed seeing his boyfriend staring intently at him.

[Name] turned around to look at the red head. "I-Is something wrong James..?" He asked as he put down his makeup brush.

The red head was quiet before he stood up and walked over to [Name] making the boy confused on what James was doing, he stared at James who stared back at him. "James..?" "How..." [Name] looked at him confusion. "Huh...? What are you talking about James?" He asked before he felt James hand on his face, softly gripping his chin. "How can you be so beautiful?" James said making [Name] blush at the compliment.

"E-Eh? What are you talking about?" [Name] bashfully said as James chuckle as he took the sucker from his mouth.

"I'm just simply stating the truth, you look beautiful. With how you carefully applied your makeup and dress up in such cute feminine clothing, people would expect you are my girlfriend instead of my boyfriend." James said as [Name] slightly pouted.

James chuckled as he put his sucker back into his mouth. "What? I'm simply stating the truth.." He said as he kissed his boyfriend's forehead.

"But that's what I love about you, you're confident in yourself and don't let others stop you from doing what you feel comfortable.." James said making [Name] feel putty at his words as his pout turned into a smile.

"Whatever..."

[Name] said as he looked away and continued doing his makeup, James chuckle as he leaned against the table, watching as his boyfriend continued to do his makeup for their date today.

His eyes trailed down to the outfit [Name] was wearing today. The clothes he was wearing looked good on him, even if it was considered a girl's outfit and that [Name] shouldn't be wearing it because he's a boy.

But [Name] doesn't care what people or society says, he likes wearing it, he feels comfortable wearing it.

And that's what made James gravitate to him, seeing [Name] confident on what he does and is not afraid to show what he likes nor what other people think because of the way he is.

Just so what his interests and the way he dresses is considered to be a girl? He likes it and he feels amazing when he wear those. And James just loves it, in his opinion. It just made [Name] even more attracted to him.

James just loved him so much.

"James, are you ready?" He snapped out of thoughts when he heard [Name] call out to him, he looked at [Name] who was already done with his makeup. James smiled at nodded.

"Yup, c'mon. Let's go for our date."

#🌙moonbyulsstuff works #requested #lookism #x male reader #male reader #x reader #reader #lookism x reader #lookism x male reader #james lee #james lee x reader #james lee x male reader #james lee lookism #lookism james less #ptj #ptj universe #ptj comics #webtoon

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therhythmafterthesummer · 2 years ago

Text

Are You There, Wolf? (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: Werewolf!Minho x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Best Friends to Lovers Word Count: ~8k | AO3 Synopsis: Minho had always deemed himself a bit of a weirdo. In his humble opinion, he’d only become even weirder with time, especially after he acquired his supernatural… condition. He’d never cared much about it, not when you’d always been there for him, and hopefully you would always be. [This is an instalment of my WereRoomies series. You don’t particularly need to read the other instalments related to Minho to understand this, but it’ll add more depth to the story if you do, so I highly recommend it~]. Warnings: Minho’s POV · mentions of shooting guns [it’s an off-handed comment made by Minho, nothing serious, but figured i’d put a warning] · mentions of gambling · mentions of cheating [but no one cheated] · mentions of blood, injuries, and violence · near death experiences · Minho was dumb and in denial for a long while · mentions and depictions of monster fucking shenanigans · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: this originally started as a smutty drabble inspired by an ask from an anon… somehow it grew hands and beat me up and made me black out and now we’ve got a full instalment. a chunk of it is just stuff that happened in other instalments, but with Minho’s input. hope you enjoy ! special thanks to @notastraykid for reading this and letting me know it wasn’t the worst piece of literature she’s ever read.

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Minho's previous WereRoomies instalments: Camping With Wolves & Dog Unleashed

Smut Warnings: mentions of oral · somnophilia [all acts related to it are consensual] · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but reader is presumed to be on birth control] · creampie

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Minho always believed himself to be a rational man. He was also an animal, yes. But his animal instincts were, essentially, stunted.

He wasn’t sure if it was because he was born human and turned into a werewolf when he was very young, or if there was something wrong with him in general–he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.

Jisung–who’d been the first other werewolf Minho ever befriended–believed it to be the first option. He had encouraged Minho to go to a specialist and ask, but Minho never really paid much attention to it.

He figured that, as long as he didn’t feel ill or that he didn’t hurt anyone around him, it didn’t really matter.

However, just how many psychologists and therapists by trade seemed to choose that career path in order to understand their own brains and behaviours, sometimes he wondered if his own inability to understand his animal needs was what fully drove him into becoming a vet.

Sure, he had always cared for animal’s safety, he always knew one too many facts about many different critters, and with all the injured animals that seemed to come his way when he was a kid, he had spent more time at the vet’s office than he did in his own home. He supposed all things combined played a role in his career choice, and that had certainly helped him understand himself a little better… kind of.

Minho was a simple man. A man that, in a sick twist of fate, ended up becoming the dictionary definition of a monster.

He’d admit that for a long time, he blamed himself for what had happened to him. ‘Maybe if I hadn’t taken that detour through the woods that time I wouldn’t have been turned’, ‘Maybe if I had been paying attention to my surroundings I wouldn’t have been bit’, ‘Maybe I did something horrible in a past life or this one to warrant such an event’, he’d always think about these things whenever the pains and aches caused by his condition were a bit too strong to bear.

It took him an even longer time to accept the fact that it hadn’t been his fault at all. Nothing could’ve ever prepared him for the situation. He would’ve never been able to predict that a giant wolf would come out of nowhere and bite him completely unprompted.

To this day, over ten years later, Minho still couldn’t remember what the wolf looked like.

It all happened so fast… All he could remember was the fuzzy canine shape, the sound of growls and snarls and of his own bones cracking inside his body, along with the searing pain that spread from the gash that the creature had left on his side.

He couldn’t remember the bleeding, or the amount of time he spent laying on the forest ground, or even the moment he was eventually found. One second he was in an immense amount of pain, and the next he was completely fine, as if nothing had happened, laying on a hospital bed with his best friend hugging him and sobbing against his chest.

Minho could’ve never imagined that that event in the woods would change the way he interacted with the world forever.

One seemingly normal evening after what he thought had been ‘an accident’, while he was hanging out in his best friend’s home, doing their weekly watch of Kamen Rider, it was like something suddenly started rattling inside of him. Like an itch one can’t seem to scratch satisfactorily.

He couldn’t breathe, his joints hurt, all his muscles seemed to burn, and before he knew it, he was feeling parts of his body he had never felt before. His vision felt different, his sense of smell was overwhelmed, and although his surroundings were familiar, it was almost like he was seeing them from someone else’s perspective.

Needless to say, he was having a full on meltdown right then and there. Especially when he caught what he thought would be a glimpse of himself on a reflective surface, and what he saw instead was a dog… Well, more accurately, a wolf.

To this day, he was very grateful that it all happened while you, his best friend, were there with him. Minho honestly wasn’t sure how he would’ve reacted had he been on his own. He could still remember the panic he felt, how much he was crying, how much you were crying. Things would’ve probably been very different if you hadn’t hugged him tight and reassured him time and time again that you’d be there for him… That you wanted to figure this out together.

When he had finally understood what had happened to him in the woods, and after many trips to the local library to do some digging on the internet, you both came to the conclusion that the most logical explanation to his newfound condition was that he was now afflicted with lycanthropy… And it wasn’t the psychological kind.

Which was crazy.

Completely absurd.

But what seemed to be sourced in fantasy and myths was literally the only thing that matched his symptoms perfectly.

Everything was confusing for a long time after that. Everything was too loud, too bright, too intense… His already sensitive senses seemed to be overstimulated all day, every day–even worse than before–and he could hardly cope.

He could hear conversations that were happening metres away from him, he could hear people’s breathing and their heartbeats and sometimes other internal organs as well… It was honestly driving him a little bit insane.

Minho realised very quickly that having a supernaturally enhanced sense of smell when he was starting high school was quite possibly one of the worst things to ever happen to him. Having been turned into a werewolf was hard enough on its own, now he had to deal with teenagers that seemed to hold a grudge against soap.

When it all got too overwhelming, he simply got close to you. As close as he could. He was sure he had memorised the rhythm of your heartbeat at this point, and the constant, familiar sound always seemed to help ease his sour mood.

‘Have you gotten a new perfume? Or a new fabric softener?’ He couldn’t help but ask one day. He’d noticed recently that there seemed to be a scent of lavender lingering around him whenever you were close. He didn’t mind. In fact, it actually comforted him quite a bit.

‘You know I don’t use fabric softener, dummy. And no, I haven’t gotten a new perfume’, your answer puzzled him a bit, but it wasn’t until a handful of months later, when he finally met Jisung, that he understood what that lavender scent was.

When Minho first met Jisung, he was honestly a bit surprised. Mostly because the second Jisung was within his radius, it was almost like he could tell the younger boy was a werewolf, too. There was something about the smell of roses and cotton radiating from Jisung that just gave it away, although Minho didn’t know how, or why.

Jisung quickly became an integral part of his friend group–although, to be fair, ‘group’ was a big word to use, considering you were the only real friend Minho had, and the one he consistently hung out with. What used to be a simple pair of weirdos became a trio of weirdos, and Minho was genuinely happy about that.

He immediately felt like he could trust Jisung, and in the long run, Minho was grateful for his presence. Not only because Jisung was funny and eloquent and he also enjoyed watching niche TV shows, but also because Jisung helped him understand this unexplored side of him.

‘You’re an alpha, clearly’, Jisung told Minho once. As if that meant something important. ‘Your scent is kind of… Like, you smell of vanilla and a recently lit bonfire. Somehow very alpha-like, but milder than what I’m used to, I suppose…’

Jisung explained to him all these werewolf designations of alphas, betas, and omegas that were based on a werewolf’s inherent nature… He explained what scents were, how to tell what status a wolf had based on their scent, and when he confirmed that humans did, in fact, also have a scent, Minho just knew then that that lavender scent he always smelt when you were close was simply your natural scent. Just like cotton and roses was Jisung’s.

Meeting Jisung–aside from meeting you–was possibly one of the best things that could’ve ever happened to Minho. Not only did Jisung become one of his best friends in this whole wide world, not only did he help Minho understand his newfound nature, but also, thanks to him, Minho was finally able to find a family of his own.

Being honest, in his hometown, Minho didn’t have anyone but you. His mother barely even gave him the time of day–mostly because she was busy working two or three jobs to support them both.

When his now step-dad came into the picture, money was no longer a problem, but by that point Minho had already been turned, and that, coupled with the fact that his step-dad wasn’t really that good of a man, was enough for him to distance himself from his relatives.

Minho also had Jisung for a while, but he eventually left town because his entire pack was moving out. That was fine, he was sure they would meet again eventually. Besides, technology around that time made it so it was hardly possible to not be in contact with someone.

After high school, when Minho finally decided to pursue higher education–to pursue his dream of becoming a vet–the university he wanted to study in was, coincidentally, in the same area where Jisung was living then. And not only was Jisung living there, he was in a pack. A different one from his childhood one.

Back in the early stages of his friendship with Jisung, he had explained to Minho that werewolves usually lived in packs, just like regular wolves did. Jisung’s childhood pack didn’t treat omegas that well, from what Minho could recall. So, being an omega himself, Jisung always felt like a bit of an outcast. The fact that he had found a pack where he was actually comfortable was a big deal, and Minho was genuinely happy for his friend.

Even though the pack was essentially only three young wolves, Jisung always spoke highly of his two other packmates. ‘Chris and Changbin are amazing people, dude. Never met wolves like them aside from, like… you. I think you’d be a great addition to our pack, and Chris agrees! Come meet them, you won’t regret it’.

And he didn’t regret it. Not one bit. If anything, joining Chris’ pack, becoming close to him and Changbin to help them lead it, was the third best thing that could’ve ever happened to Minho.

‘Changbin’s my right hand. Although it doesn’t make much sense to have a second in command when we’re, like, three dudes only, I feel like at any point more people could join us, so I like to be prepared’, Chris, the leader–the alpha–of that pack of Jisung’s wasn’t that much older than Minho, but there was something about him that exuded leadership and comfort. It was so obvious even someone like Minho, who wasn’t that in touch with his wolf instincts, was able to tell this man was a real alpha.

‘It’s very customary for the alpha of the pack to have at least two other people next to them to deal with all possible pack matters, and Jisung believes you might be suitable for that. He said, and I quote, that you have a heart of gold. He vouches for you, and I trust him, so if you want to join and help me out, you’re more than welcome to. Hell, you’re welcome even if you don’t want to help me lead specifically, but it’s important you know that as a pack, we must always look out for each other’, Chris’ proposal was straight forward. No matter what role Minho would fill in, he was welcome to join them.

Being honest with himself, Minho wasn’t really that much of a leader–not in his opinion, at least–but the prospect of joining a pack seemed to tickle something on the back of his mind. He supposed it was one of those instinctual things he didn’t understand well, but, in a way, Chris made him feel reassured, so he told him he’d be happy to join and help him out however he could. With one condition, though.

‘You see, I’ve got my best friend… Not sure if Jisung has told you about her. She’s human, and she’s very important to me. If joining your pack of werewolves means I can’t see her anymore then I’m not doing it’, Minho loved Jisung, and he had a good impression of Chris and Changbin, but, truly, if joining them meant he had to leave you behind, he’d much rather stay on his own.

He knew from Jisung that the moment you moved into a werewolf den, a lot of decisions had to involve the alpha’s approval, and considering you were human, Minho had a genuine fear of Chris telling him that humans simply weren’t allowed. He’d honestly much rather shoot himself in the leg than have to cut ties with you. You’d been the only constant in his life, and losing you was something he just couldn’t afford. You meant too much to him. Maybe more than he would’ve liked to admit back then.

Thankfully, Chris didn’t seem to have major issues with that. If anything, all he did was ask to meet you before you could stay at his den, and as long as you were someone that could be trusted, he wouldn’t have any problems with your presence at the den. That was fine, there was no doubt in Minho’s mind that Chris would like you and see just how nice you were.

He had obviously been right. Your first time meeting Chris couldn’t have gone more smoothly. Not even fifteen minutes passed and he was already dragging Minho to the side and telling him it was all good.

‘I think she’s nice. It’s fine by me if your kitten drops by or stays over whenever you guys want’, Chris had patted him on the back, with a teasing grin on his face, taking special care to stress the word kitten–which was a nickname Minho had given you randomly one day years ago while trying to cheer you up.

Giving you that nickname had been a moment of weakness, a moment in which he also had been sad and his inhibitions had lowered a bit. The pet name just fell out of his mouth, it had practically been a perfect textbook definition of a Freudian slip, considering Minho had, quite stupidly, developed a crush on you by then.

Chris was a good person, but he also seemed to enjoy teasing Minho whenever his more than obvious crush presented itself, even when Minho himself was in denial about it.

Minho was convinced you didn’t feel anything other than platonic love towards him, so he always tried to delude himself into thinking he absolutely didn’t have a crush on you. You were his best friend, one of the most important people in his life, and he would never risk losing you over what he believed to be unrequited feelings.

Sometimes, though, it was almost impossible not to think about you in ways that would definitely be considered inappropriate. It was easy in his day to day life, but, twice a year, he had to face the fact that his feelings for you went beyond your friendship…

Minho was well aware that he was a weird guy. Throughout his life, he had only ever cared about animals, Kamen Rider, and you and Jisung. He could hardly hold a normal, civil conversation if it didn’t involve any of those things, he said things and had odd habits that could potentially put off people around him, and that was only on his human side. His wolf side was a whole other can of worms.

He already had a hard time understanding his basic human needs, and that seemed to triple when it came to his animal needs. For a long time he couldn’t tell when he needed to go on a run, or when he was in a bad mood because of a weird scent around him, and no need to even get started on whatever the hell was happening with his ruts…

Figuring out that he now had to go through days of unbearable horniness was by far one of the weirdest experiences Minho ever had to deal with during this whole ‘being turned into a half animal’ thing. After he reached sexual maturity, twice a year, he had a time period of around four to five days when every single one of his instincts and senses pulled him into a trance-like state in which all he wanted to do was fuck.

But not only did he want to fuck… He specifically wanted to breed someone. And even more specifically, he wanted to breed you.

It was awful. The whole ordeal was physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausting.

The first time he went into rut, he was sure the pain he was feeling came close to the one he briefly felt back when he had been bit and turned. His body was increasingly warm, he was sweating buckets, his cock was hard for an almost criminal amount of time, and nothing he did made it better.

Even if he managed to make himself come, it barely helped him feel relieved. If anything, it got him more frustrated, to the point where he would start breaking things around him–both intentionally and unintentionally.

The worst part of going into rut, though, was the thoughts he had throughout those days. He could only think of you. Of kissing you, of tasting those utmost sensitive areas of your body, of bending you over and ramming himself into you until he got tied to you and got to fill you to the brim with his cum…

Logic was something that didn’t exist for him in this time period, so those thoughts ran freely in his mind for the duration of his rut… thoughts that he had to come face to face once his rut subsided and he could think like a human again instead of a horny dog.

Needless to say, Minho couldn’t look at your face for a whole month after he went through his first rut. He was haunted by the images his imagination had produced at the time, and he was convinced you didn’t deserve that, that he had somehow broken your trust. It was something he never spoke about with anyone. Not even Jisung. He made a vow to keep this a secret in order to protect your friendship.

Little did Minho know that his friendship with you didn’t need to be protected from anything…

Many years after his first rut, sharing a bed with you during one fateful trip to the woods with the whole pack, was all it took for the line of your friendship to blur completely. Minho had been in denial about his feelings for so long, he had been completely blind to your feelings.

That night, with his senses enhanced by the moon, with his animal instincts bubbling to the forefront of his human mind, that need for you seemed to be impossible to ignore. While he laid with you on that bed, under the covers, being your big spoon, he couldn’t help but get lost in how fast your heart was beating the tighter he hugged you, he was drowning in your lavender scent, and he genuinely didn’t want to be rescued.

You staring at his mouth for a moment too long while he hovered over you had suddenly ignited a spark of hope deep within him. That, added to your increased heart rate, and what he couldn’t mistake for anything other than arousal lingering in your scent, was quickly making him delirious.

‘Kitten… Why are you… Why are you looking at my mouth?’

‘Just thinking…’

‘About?’

‘Things I should not be thinking about’.

After the words came out of your mouth, and with all the sensory inputs around him, Minho suddenly felt so incredibly stupid.

How had he never noticed that your body seemed to react to him in the same ways his did to you? How long had it been doing that? He had been blindsided by his own desperate attempts to not drive you away from him with his feelings, he had never noticed you looking at him in the same way he looked at you.

He wasn’t sure if it had been the moon reinforcing his stunted instincts just enough to enhance his questionable sense of awareness, but as he looked at you, as he saw just how blown your pupils were, as he watched you stare at his mouth, all caution flew out the window. For once, he decided to take a chance, and the moment his lips made contact with yours, the moment the tiniest of moans left your mouth with the contact, he just knew he had made the right choice.

Kissing you, after so many years of trying not to think of what it would feel like, was even better than he could’ve ever imagined. Minho was ravenous, desperate to feel as much of you as he possibly could, and you, very clearly, were in a similar state.

You both agreed–while still kissing, if he might add–that you needed to discuss the situation, but, admittedly, neither of you wanted to stop. So you didn’t, but only after reaching a compromise to talk about it later.

Minho honestly couldn’t even tell how many times you both had sex that night. It seemed like he’d entered a time pocket in which the only thing that mattered was indulging in each other’s body as many times as you possibly could.

By the time you were both thoroughly satisfied, he simply hugged you close under the covers, relishing the feel of your bare skin against his, relishing the feel of your head on his chest and his arms around your frame. Hugging you to sleep, especially this intimately, was everything he could’ve ever hoped for.

It wasn’t like he’d never hugged you to sleep. He’d shared a bed with you many times in the past, but doing it after having your lips on his, after knowing how it felt like to be inside you, and the mere idea that you reciprocated his feelings, was enough to make him fall asleep smiling to himself like a fool.

Even the next morning, when Minho woke up, still very much naked, when he turned around to find you already awake and looking at him, he couldn’t help but smile like a fool once again. Especially not when you were smiling so bright yourself.

“Morning”, you mumbled, immediately shuffling closer so you could tuck your head under his chin and hug his waist.

“Morning, kitten”, Minho pressed a kiss to the top of your head and hugged you even closer, slotting one of his legs between yours to further tangle your limbs together.

You just hummed, nuzzling his neck before you started to press kisses on it. Your soft lips on his skin sent a shiver down his spine, which certainly didn’t help ease the effects of morning wood.

Minho was drowsy, maybe even still horny, but he needed to have this conversation with you, or he was sure he’d explode. “Can we talk about it now?”

You pulled yourself away from his neck to look him in the eyes. Reaching forward with your hand, you pushed his hair out of his eyes, and the movement made them fall shut. “What do you wanna talk about?”

You kept playing with his hair for a bit, then traced the features of his face with the pad of one of your fingers, until his eyes opened again.

“I need to know where we go from here”.

You took a deep breath, mulling his words. Finally, you retracted your hand from his face to hold his hand instead. “Minho, I let you do things to me last night that I’ve never let anyone else do. I don’t know about you, but I hope where we go from here is a relationship”.

Minho couldn’t help but wonder then if he would ever stop smiling like a fool after all this. “So you’re my girlfriend now? Is this what we’re doing?”

“Only if you’re my boyfriend”, you chuckled, leaning in to press a brief kiss on his cheek.

Minho hugged your waist, and he pulled you closer into him. “Mmm… Your ex is gonna have a field day if he ever finds out”.

Your ex had spent the last leg of your relationship with him convinced you had cheated on him with Minho. During the big fight that led to your breakup, he had told you how obvious it was that Minho had feelings for you. At the time you just dumped his ass, and Minho, Jisung, and you spent a whole evening just dragging his name through the mud.

That relationship didn’t last long anyway. He was probably, in Minho’s opinion, the worst partner you had ever had. He was insecure, misogynistic, and manipulative. You hadn’t cheated on him, but Minho supposed there was one thing he had been right about… he did have feelings for you back then.

You scoffed at the mention of your ex, rolling your eyes. “Just like your ex probably will, too”.

Ah, Minho’s ex… It had been a long time since Minho had been in a relationship, but how could he forget the ex that made him choose between him and you?

He could admit it was an asshole move to be involved romantically with someone while having feelings for someone else, but back then he was so deep in denial he couldn’t even acknowledge what he felt for you. Regardless, you were still his friend, and he’d never choose anyone else over one of his friends. In his opinion, someone that cared about him would never make him choose in the first place.

“I guess we’ll have to let them froth at the mouth with rage and believe whatever they want to believe. That is, if they still care”, Minho chuckled, rolling you on your back to start pressing kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

That seemingly innocent act of smothering your face with kisses turned into a much less innocent mess of lips and tongues. Minho came to find out that making out with you was absolutely exhilarating, especially when it ended with his mouth between your legs.

Fucking you that morning might’ve not been the smartest move to make when you both were about to walk into a kitchen full of people with enhanced senses, but Minho figured that if anyone commented on it, he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was going to keep it a secret, anyway.

Although, he’d admit that having Jisung scream it to everyone in the room caught him off guard. Just like learning that everyone had placed bets on whether Minho and you would get together last night also caught him off guard.

He figured he deserved that last one, considering he himself had also gotten the rest of the pack to place bets on whether Chris and his girlfriend would fuck last night or not…

In any case, other than the bet, the whole pack seemed to seamlessly embrace this new dynamic between you and Minho. After all, starting a relationship with you didn’t change things much.

You still lived almost an hour away from him, you still encouraged him to indulge in his interests, you still talked every day… If anything, the only major difference was that you met more frequently now. Seeing you weekly instead of monthly was certainly an improvement.

It was kind of amusing to Minho how everything was almost the same. He still took you places, still held your hand and hugged you and brushed your hair out of your face whenever he felt like it, but now he could let his fingers linger on your skin for longer, he could lean in and press a kiss wherever he wanted on your face, and, at the end of the day, he could take you home and fuck you dumb for as long as you’d let him.

There was only one thing, though, that seemed to be a problem… It was something he didn’t really want to acknowledge, but he knew would explode on his face at some point.

Minho was an animal.

Eventually, he’d go into rut, and knowing you, he was sure you’d want to help him go through it.

Minho had never spoken to you about his ruts, but he knew you’d learnt a great deal about it from the other girls at the den as well as Jisung. You’d never brought it up to him before, and he was sure it was because you simply knew he didn’t want to talk about it.

Now that you were his girlfriend, it was only a matter of time before he’d have to face this problem head on. Because that was what this whole thing was to Minho… a problem.

Even if during his rut all he could think about was you, he usually got violent. Very violent.

He’d punch walls and break numerous pieces of furniture and appliances, and having you there with him could put you at risk of getting caught in the cross-fire. If he ever hurt you, Minho would never, ever forgive himself. Especially when he just knew you would. You would make excuses for him, you’d enable him and his animal ways like you always did, and he just didn’t want to put you in that position.

Granted, he should’ve probably told you all this, and he had been hyping himself up to do it, but you had been faster than him. The night you finally asked him about his rut he had been severely unprepared to handle the situation.

Minho told you he wouldn’t spend his rut with you. He could’ve probably worded it better, but before he knew it the situation escalated and you were having an argument and he had unintentionally made you feel unwanted, which was just so far from reality…

He wanted to tell you just how much he wanted you, but before he could you’d put space between yourselves and left him there on his own. It was late at night when it happened, but he wasn’t necessarily worried for your safety when you left, because he just knew you’d either go to one of the girls’ flats or to Jisung’s.

Forty minutes after the whole ordeal, he received a text from Jisung confirming his suspicions. The younger wolf told him you were at his place and that he’d take care of you for the night, which Minho was immensely grateful for.

He spent the entire night tossing and turning, wondering how to best word his predicament so he wouldn’t inadvertently hurt you and make you feel unwanted again. Essentially, his reservations when it came to spending his rut with you had nothing to do with you, and all to do with him.

So, the next morning, he made his way to Jisung’s and waited patiently for you to wake up. Jisung had given him a rundown of what had happened the night before, without revealing too much of what you’d told him since he usually liked to keep your conversations as private as possible–just like he kept the conversations he had with Minho as private as possible whenever he spoke to you.

So, when you woke up, Minho immediately explained the situation. He confessed to you how he’d always wanted you, how he couldn’t stop thinking about you whenever he went into rut, and how he got incredibly violent during that time period, so violent he feared he would harm you in any way.

You understood, of course. You always did.

You apologised for jumping to conclusions, and for forcing him to talk about something when he was clearly not ready to do it, which he appreciated. He also apologised for not communicating properly, an apology that you also seemed to accept. At the end of the day, he understood why the whole thing happened in the first place, and he made a mental note to try and not keep things like these from you ever again.

Funny thing, how the universe always seems to play with people like they were little pieces in a funky little game.

When Minho did go into rut, he was so out of it he completely forgot to let you or anyone else know. You had a tendency to drop by his place unannounced, which he didn’t mind, but that day, it was far from ideal, to say the least.

He was sweating, frustrated, in pain, and the second he heard the beeps of the front door’s lock and the smell of your scent hit him, he just lost it.

It was all a blur after that. He tried to hold back, to tell you to leave, but you didn’t. Of course you wouldn’t leave…

To his surprise, that violence that seemed to seep out of him whenever he went into rut wasn’t there. His thoughts were plagued with only you and your lavender scent and the need to pleasure you and to pump you full of his pups.

When he finally managed to do all that, he quickly realised that he’d only ever been violent because he couldn’t have you. In retrospect, he should’ve known. But he’d proven to be tone deaf enough to not understand what his needs were, and this clearly wasn’t an exception.

Nothing had felt quite as fulfilling as spending that rut with you. It was all he’d ever wanted and more. His almost endless supply of cum, his knot, his insatiable need to fuck and fuck and fuck… You’d taken it all like a champ, and even when he wasn’t that in tune with his inner wolf, he could still feel just how proud it was, how proud he was of you.

The word mate kept repeating over and over in his mind the entire time, and he supposed you were his mate, all things considered.

Forever was a big word, but Minho figured that, at least at that point in time, he couldn’t ever imagine his life with anyone else. Especially not now that you were finally sharing your feelings with each other after years and years of pining.

For all he knew, anything that could have potentially been a problem in his relationship with you had been addressed after that. Minho was happy, you were happy, and it all seemed to have taken its natural course.

Except for one maybe not so small thing…

Minho wanted you to move in with him. He’d honestly wanted it since before you got together. He missed you often, and he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.

The distance during the week was starting to stress him out way more than he’d like to admit, and even if he’d been slowly making space in his flat for you, he knew he’d ask you sooner or later. He hadn’t brought the topic up after you got together because he knew your job was important to you, and moving in with him would probably mean you’d have to quit and find something else closer to where the den was.

He could offer to support you financially, but he just knew you wouldn’t have wanted that. The second you’d started working and being financially independent, you couldn’t imagine ever having to rely on someone else–that was what you had told him all those years ago, at least…

You moving in with him made so much sense, though. Some weekends, Minho would go over to your place, but you’d told him several times that you preferred his home over yours. You’d told him it was more lively, that you enjoyed the presence of the other pack members, and that the only thing you genuinely liked about your flat was that Sir Percival was in it.

Sir Percival was your elderly cat that you adopted when you were a child. He was one of the many cats Minho had rescued, and he was probably the reason you ever spoke to Minho in the first place. Back then, the day you met, you approached him only because he was trying to save Sir Percival’s entire litter that had been abandoned by the side of the road.

So, yes. You moving in with him to Chris’ den just made all the sense in the world to him. Especially at moments like these.

Whenever Minho got to lay on your bed like he was doing now, he could certainly understand why you felt that his flat was more homely. You hardly had any decor in your room, and the whole flat was in a similar state. You never particularly liked this place in the first place, but you stayed because it was close to work and rent was relatively cheap.

‘I’ll probably move out soon, so no need to go all in on the decoration’, you’d told Minho years ago when you moved in. You kept putting it off, and now here this place was, void of anything that would highlight your wonderful personality other than the cat toys littering the floor, and the cat tower in the corner of your living room.

Whenever Minho came over, Sir Percival always avoided coming to your room unless it was absolutely necessary. The cat had told Minho that if he ever walked in on them having sex again he’d purposefully ruin the mood by throwing up a hairball, so he preferred to stay in the living room, even if it meant he couldn’t sleep by your feet like he loved to do.

That was fair, Minho supposed. He didn’t feel comfortable having Sir Percival in the room when you were getting intimate, either, so he appreciated the privacy.

Right now, though, since he had woken up in the middle of the night and hadn’t been able to fall asleep again, he was wondering if he should go out and bring Sir Percival to bed. Maybe his warmth and his purring could help him fall asleep again…

Unlike Minho, you were sleeping soundly next to him, with your back turned to him. If he stood up from this bed he might wake you up, and he didn’t want you to be in his situation… So he settled on focusing on your steady breathing while he waited for sleep to claim him again.

It was just as he was almost asleep again that a minute sound made his body jerk awake.

It came from you. It was a whimper, barely even audible. But how could he not hear it with his enhanced senses? When you were so close?

It would’ve worried him, had the smell of your arousal not knocked the air straight out of his lungs.

Minho would’ve never imagined his sleepless night would’ve taken him to this intersection, but here he was. He realised he could do one of three things… One, he could ignore the fact that you were right there next to him, presumably having a wet dream… Two, he could wake you up to reenact whatever it was you were dreaming about… Or three, he could use this as an opportunity to indulge in something he hardly ever did…

Since he started a relationship with you, Minho and you had many opportunities to try new things. You were quite open to try any and every seemingly odd activity in the bedroom–be it anal, or role-play, or some light bondage, you were always down to try it. And when Minho brought up his little fantasy of touching you while you were asleep, you’d been more than ecstatic to try it out… To the point where he was sure if he hadn’t brought it up, you would’ve done so eventually.

There was something about the fact that you trusted him enough to let him do things to you while you were unconscious that excited him. Maybe it was a projection of all those nights back then that he’d spent trying not to fantasise about you when you slept together, or maybe it was simply the act itself that he inexplicably enjoyed… Regardless of what it was, your little whimpers had his mind clouding a bit.

Sometimes, before you fell asleep next to each other, you’d turn to him and tell him ‘Maybe I’ll wake up to a surprise tomorrow…’ with that lilt in your voice that just let him know exactly in which way you wanted him to wake you up. That had been the case last night, and Minho had considered doing it a bit later, when the sun was starting to rise at least. But he figured, since you were already having a bit of fun in your dreams, maybe a midnight treat wouldn’t hurt.

Scooting closer to you, his hand found your waist. He held you tight while he pressed his nose to your pulsepoint, right under your jaw. He could hear your blood flowing, your heart rate increasing, and the scent of your excitement had him almost salivating.

Dragging his hand from your waist to your hip, he carefully caressed your body over the fabric of your sleeping gown, just as he pressed his growing erection against your ass. A tiny moan escaped your mouth, but your steady heartbeat let him know you were still pretty much asleep.

Whatever it was you were dreaming about had you shuffling the tiniest bit, enough for your ass to rub against his crotch, and he could already feel a bit of wetness soiling the material of his sleeping shorts. His own fluids, to be precise. It was one of those things that shocked him after he turned, just how much fluid his body could produce. Be it saliva, or sweat, or cum… It was slightly inconvenient, but at the very least, you always seemed to enjoy it, so he supposed it wasn’t so bad.

Minho dragged his hand from where it’d been caressing your hip up your torso, stopping only when he was finally able to cup one of your breasts. He generously fondled and squeezed the flesh, not holding back one bit. If you woke up, you woke up, and if you didn’t, you didn’t. Simple as that.

Dragging the pad of one of his fingers over your stiffening nipple, he relished the way your heartbeat picked up, as well as the way you started to writhe a bit in his hold.

“You’re so soft, baby…” Minho couldn’t help but mumble against the skin of your neck, and you whined, almost like you were reacting to him. And maybe you were. He liked to believe that to be the case.

He pinched and twisted your nipple between his fingers, pressing kisses on your neck and grinding his now fully hardened length against your ass. “I wonder what you’re dreaming about, my kitten… Is it me? I hope it’s me…”

Minho was very quiet, but he hoped you could hear him even in your dreams. He figured you might’ve, considering how fast your heart was beating now.

He was genuinely planning on dragging this out for as long as possible, but when you mumbled something akin to his name, he simply couldn’t hold back any longer. He removed his hand from your breast after one final hefty squeeze, only to bring that same hand between your bodies. His digits made contact with your entrance, and he couldn’t help but take in a deep breath at just how wet you were.

He wondered how much of it was your own arousal, and how much of it was his own cum that might’ve remained there from when you had sex last night before going to bed. He didn’t come inside often, but when he did, the thought of you having a part of him within your warmth did things to him, it tickled a secluded area of his brain, and it certainly excited him. He supposed it was instinctual. One of those wolf things he hardly ever paid attention to.

Delaying no further, he freed himself out of his sleeping shorts, just enough to drag the tip of his cock up and down your drenched folds. Minho almost got winded when he heard the moan that came out of your mouth in response to his motions. Your lavender scent wrapping around every single one of his nerve-endings enticed him, and he just couldn’t deny himself anymore.

He usually preferred to make sure you were well stretched enough to take him in, but considering you’d been stretched plenty last night, he figured you’d be just fine. And he was proven correct when he finally pushed himself fully within your warmth, when the wetness between yours legs let him slide in with ease.

Minho couldn’t help but groan at the feeling, just as a moan of your own escaped your mouth.

“You’re so warm, baby…”

He pulled his hips back, only to push them forward to start a slow, pleasant rhythm. His hold was tight on your hip, your heart sounded like it was close to leaping out of your chest, and the second your walls clenched on his length, he just knew you’d wake up soon… You’d wake up exactly to what you had wanted.

“Oh–oh, Minho…”

There was no mistaking it anymore, your barely audible moans had slightly increased in tone, and you’d started to push your hips back a bit.

Minho just hummed in response, dragging his hand from your hip to your lower belly. You placed your own hand on top of his, lacing your fingers together and sighing contently.

The kisses he left on your neck and the exposed skin of your shoulder seemed to spur you on, the movement of your hips increased in pace, and he just increased his in return. He was mumbling nonsense against your skin, tightening his hold on your interlocked fingers, getting completely lost in the feel of your tight warmth around him.

Before he knew it, you had turned your body a bit, and he had pushed your legs apart to get better access to your heat.

With an arm below you for his hand to hold yours, he took advantage of this position by using his other hand to pull one of your legs over his hip and for his fingers to find their rightful place between your legs.

You just kissed him. You kissed him like you’d die if you didn’t, mumbling words of appreciation of your own between each kiss, broken up by moans and sighs and whimpers with every thrust of his hips and every circle drawn on your clit.

“You’re so good to me”, you mumbled, tightening your hold on his hand, moaning so prettily he almost blew then and there.

“And you to me”, he replied simply, picking up his pace, relishing your scent and your warmth and just… you.

Time always seemed to slow down whenever you had sex, especially at these hours of the night, to the point where he could never tell how long it’d been since that first thrust. All Minho could register was how incredibly good he felt, how your heart was thumping fast in your chest, and how hard you were clamping around his cock.

The sounds you made whenever you came undone under his touch and his motions were like music to his ears, they spurred him on, borderline urged him to come himself. And there was certainly hardly anything he would’ve enjoyed more right now than to blow his load while you were still spasming around him, while all you could mumble was his name, while all he could mumble was yours.

Your chest rose and fell with your deep breaths, and while the after effects of his orgasm still clung to every single one of his senses, you pulled him in for a slow, tender kiss. Minho immediately melted, holding you tighter and still enjoying the comfort of your inner walls.

When you pulled back from the kiss, he brushed his nose against yours, making you smile and giggle, and you sounded incredibly sleepy even after all that had transpired just minutes ago. He pulled you into his arms, entangling his legs with yours as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Everything was calm around you. The room was barely illuminated by the lampposts outside your windows, and Minho suddenly felt like humming a random song you’d been listening to earlier in the evening… So he did, all as he caressed your hair.

You nuzzled your face further into his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist and holding him tight. Right then, Minho figured that every choice he had ever made, that everything that had happened to him, had taken him to this moment, and if that were truly the case, then he honestly wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

“Babe?” You mumbled, the sound slightly muffled against the fabric of his vest top.

“Hm?” Minho kept caressing your hair, your back, holding you close and keeping you there.

“I love you”.

He honestly couldn’t help but smile. Of course he knew you loved him. You’d shown him just how much countless times before. Not only throughout your relationship, but way before that… He’d honestly known since that time you hugged him when he had shapeshifted into a wolf the very first time.

“I love you, kitten, baby… So much”.

You pulled away from his chest and looked at him, with a blinding smile on your face. Granted, he could hardly see it in the dark room, but he saw enough. Enough to know just how much you cared.

But alas, Minho was first and foremost your best friend, and even if he was melting on the inside with your confession, he just had to be annoying about it. “I can’t believe you beat me to say it first, though. I won’t ever forgive you”.

You gasped dramatically, bringing a hand to your mouth for emphasis. “Here I am? Baring my heart to you? And this is what I get? Fine, I won’t ever forgive you for never forgiving me”.

You were just about to turn away from him, he just knew. So he held you tighter, keeping you in place while he laughed. Your façade crumbled immediately, and you laughed with him, all while he kept pressing kisses on your cheeks.

“Guess I’ll just have to say it as much as possible to get the upper hand”, Minho mumbled against your cheek, just before he started leaving behind an ‘I love you’ after every kiss he pressed on your heated skin.

When your chuckles died down, and he was satisfied with the amount of times he had professed his love, silence enveloped you both once again. Minho simply laid on his back, hugging you close as you laid your head on his chest, right over his heart.

He wasn’t sure if it was the admittance of his feelings, or the hormonal rush of a good fuck, or your lavender scent that seemed to make him delirious sometimes, but, before he knew it, the words were coming out of his mouth with no way to stop them.

“Would you like to move in with me?”

No take-backsies now, he supposed.

You took in a deep breath, but remained silent for a moment.

It was just as Minho was about to panic that you finally spoke. “Do you think Chris would accept Sir Percival into the pack as well? I’m not leaving him behind”.

Minho couldn’t help but chuckle. “He’ll have to. Otherwise I’ll threaten him until he does”.

It was all a bluff… mostly.

Minho would respect any decision Chris took, but if it came to it, he kind of knew that if he laid out why it was important to him to take in both you and Sir Percival, Chris would agree, so he wasn’t particularly worried. Sir Percival already respected Chris, from what Minho knew, so he was almost ninety percent sure it wouldn’t be a problem.

You took in another deep breath, pulling yourself away from Minho’s hug so you could straddle him instead. With your full weight on his body and your hands on his chest, you looked down at him, taking in his features.

“I guess I’ll need to start applying for jobs, then”, you just smiled brightly at him.

Minho held your waist, smiling at you in return right before he pulled you down for a kiss. With you and Sir Percival there at the den, his family would finally be complete, and he felt as if his heart was about to burst at the thought.

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General Masterlist Minho's WereRoomies Instalments: Camping With Wolves & Dog Unleashed

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