#moonlight lover layouts

[c6lumbna]

받아주면 안돼 no, you better trust me, 답답해서 그래 ! 🏚

[mangowillow]

perhaps love

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader

summary: for as long as you can remember, you have been in love with your childhood friend turned roommate, but jeon jungkook remains oblivious even when he comes to comfort and help you sleep every night.

genre/tags: fluff, friends to lovers, unrequited love, angst, hurt & comfort, mentions of drinking & insomnia

word count: 12.5 k

a/n: no matter how many times i tear this story down, it will always come back swinging. perhaps love was the very first fic i wrote for the fandom and this story means a ton.

For as long as you could remember, you had loved Jungkook with all of your heart.

But the reality is, love seemed out of reach, a far stretch. Not when Jungkook was first and foremost your best friend.

The whole apartment was surrounded by darkness, except for the pure moonlight that seeped through your bedroom window. Your room was your favorite place in the world-- away from everyone, just you and the stillness. You had really bad sleeping habits and your insomnia has gotten worse over time. You tried everything to fall asleep, including hot showers and scented candles. Nothing worked… except for Jungkook.

Jungkook usually played games into the night as his own way to unwind from the stress of being one of the most sought-after graphic artists. When he’s not holding the console, he’s nose deep into his computer or tablet, illustrating his next commission. He just submitted his drafts for his latest client’s marketing kit a few hours prior so he could afford to while away his time tonight. He walked to the kitchen to grab another can of beer when he saw your bedroom door slightly ajar. He padded his way through the hall and leaned against the doorframe, watching your peaceful expression

“Can’t sleep?”

You turned your head in the direction of the bedroom door. Jungkook’s gentle voice that echoed through the quiet of their shared apartment was his other favorite place in the world. 

“It’s always hard.”

Jungkook pushed the door further and went inside. You two had been living together for almost two years and Jungkook already knew the layout of the space like the back of his hand. He set the unopened beer can on the bedside table and went under the duvet with you. It had always been this simple-- it was either Jungkook grabbed an extra beer can and share it with you or coaxed you to sleep entirely. Tonight, it was the latter. Jungkook ran a hand up and down your back.

You felt a pang inside your chest. It was barely there but still felt. Tonight was different, lonelier. You closed your eyes, thinking that maybe this was just how it had to be.

“Tell me what you need,” Jungkook muttered.

“Gguk…” you started. Jungkook hummed, ever so kind, so patient. “Can you help me sleep?”

Years of friendship made words between you comfortable and safe. Your insomnia started right around the time your dance studio was gaining more enrollees and by the end of a year, you already needed to hire a few more dancers and bigger studio space. Jungkook was there to witness all your hard work, sleepless nights trying to perfect a routine you had to teach every week. Jungkook was there to help you through the breakdowns and occasionally had to endure your spats, to which you apologized for with ramen and kimbap. 

You and Jungkook go way back, but tonight it’s just the two of you and your shared present. Jungkook helped you lay down on the bed and your heart swelled . Jungkook lay on his side as he gently guided you to face him. In the calm of the night, you saw stars in Jungkook’s eyes. You willed yourself not to speak for fear of breaking the moment. Jungkook started to caress your cheek ever so lightly, eyes falling close as you reveled in the softness of how Jungkook took care of you. As Jungkook continued to comfort you, he started singing your favorite sleep song.

now playing: watch you sleep. by girl in red

Jungkook’s melodious voice rang through the room with much reverence. You both find yourselves busy in life, but you always, always come back home to each other-- and that thought makes your heart ache so much more. Tonight might be lonely, but you also treasured moments like this when you allowed yourself to surrender, to take pleasure in being with Jungkook. By the time he finished the song, you were already fighting to stay awake.

I want to be with you for longer.  

“What about your game, Gguk?”

“I will play another round before I go to bed. Right now, you’re more important.” Jungkook tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll stay with you for as long as you need me to.”

“Gguk-ah.”

A smirk found its way into Jungkook’s pretty lips. He knew what was coming next.

“Can you stay?”

It felt like the whole room stilled ten times over.

“I mean… just for tonight,” you quickly added, worried you might’ve said the wrong thing too late.

Jungkook gently got up from the bed and walked out the door, leaving you to wonder if you messed up. Yeah, you did , you thought. Was it that easy to mess things up? Was Jungkook really that uninterested? As you listened to Jungkook’s footsteps, you also heard the gameplay music coming from the living room abruptly stop. A few objects were heard being moved around until Jungkook’s footsteps once again became louder. 

Jungkook said nothing as he closed the door to your bedroom, his weight sinking into the other side of the bed. 

Oh, he came back, your mind dumbly said.

It was always familiar, that feeling of Jungkook being too close. You wished it never had to end. Jungkook slid an arm under you and the other caged you in closer to his chest. He dropped a light kiss to the top of your head and picked up where his hands left off— grazing your spine. 

“Are you cold?”

You swore you heard Jungkook smile through his words.

“No. The duvet can cover us both, I think.”

“Hmm. I’ll hold you through the night in case the duvet falls.” 

Jungkook placed another feathery kiss on your forehead. A few seconds seemed to have passed with nothing but comfortable silence, two hearts beating for one another.

“Goodnight, Jungkook.” 

You felt Jungkook’s hold on you grow tighter.

“Goodnight, ____.” 

The morning after was both the easiest and hardest thing you had to face because it was either you woke up to Jungkook still peacefully sleeping beside you or to an already empty bedside. 

This time around, Jungkook was already awake and smiling.

Smiling.

You thought it to be so endearing and cruel of him at the same time. Jungkook never watched you sleep before. 

Chuckling probably because he saw your wide eyes, he asked, “Did you sleep well?”

You shifted before nodding with a small smile. “How about you?”

“Like a baby.”

You chuckled too as he yawned and stretched. You’re so beautiful like this.

“What do you want for breakfast, ___?”

“Do we still have eggs?”

Jungkook nodded, “and bacon, too.”

“Ugh, heaven on earth. I’ll have both, please.”

Jungkook smiled warmly like he was the soft morning light himself, “I’ll whip us some pancakes, too.”

You nodded, yawning a second time. You got up to brush your teeth and do the usual morning skincare routine. As you stared at yourself through the mirror, you thought about how you could feel so content living with Jungkook like this— peaceful with endless possibilities. 

You realized your love for Jungkook on a rainy day when both of you were supposed to try and fly the kites you made over Gwangalli beach in Busan. You remember feeling bummed out because Jungkook put so much hard work into making those kites, only to be destroyed by a sudden downpour. You’d expected Jungkook to be upset as well, but to your surprise, Jungkook pulled you into the pouring rain to dance. He always did that. You thought he was crazy for doing so, but you went along with your fifteen-year-old friend’s absurd idea. 

It was a good thing you let yourself be pulled into pouring rain by Jeon Jungkook… because from then on, your love for him just grew. Blossomed like the spring flowers on a cool afternoon.

You were pulled out from your memories when you heard a phone ring. You quickly finished combing your hair and went out of the room, feeling hopeful about breakfast.

“...hyeong, I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”

It was Jungkook speaking to someone on the other end of the line. He had his AirPods on as he waited for the bacon to turn crispy— just the way you liked it. You sat down across from Jungkook on the kitchen counter and he gave you a small smile, even though his eyebrows were furrowed.

“Okay, fine, fine, I’ll go… I’ll see you later.” Jungkook tapped the right AirPod twice, ending the call. You could tell something was off. 

“Everything okay?”

Jungkook didn’t answer right away as he transferred the bacon onto a plate with paper towels. “Yeah, that was Yoongi hyeong”

“Oh great, are you guys meeting up later?” You tried to make light of the situation, but could already feel the other shoe was about to drop.

You’ve always had that lingering anxiety at the pit of your stomach whenever you were with Jungkook. It co-exists, always present as your love for him. It’s the product of a love unreciprocated.

Jungkook hummed, too concentrated on the eggs in front of him. “Hyeong set me up on a date with someone.”

“Oh…”

Jungkook kept his head down as he cooked, but you didn’t miss how he looked up briefly at you the moment the small surprise left your lips.

“That’s great, Jungkook. Isn’t it? It’s about time you tried dating again.” 

The morning was already starting to crumble right before you could even get through breakfast.

“Yeah, I… I think it’d be fun. I’ll see how it goes.”

You have seen Jungkook’s fair share of dating experiences over the course of your friendship. He never brought anyone home to your apartment, but you almost always witnessed how fleeting his dates were. It wasn’t as if Jungkook didn’t like them, it’s just that he prioritized his work more than the possibility of finding love. The last one Jungkook dated was like a tornado in human form. You remembered how happy he always seemed to be after their dates. He’d tell you about how she made him want to come out of his shell more and that maybe, just maybe she could be the one. You were happy for his best friend then, you always were. But you were also heartbroken seeing your childhood love date other people, let alone look at them differently. You had only met the girl once— and you immediately understood why Jungkook liked her. Kind, charming, and passionate about art and life. An advocate for women’s rights, a cat lover. 

Everything that you didn’t seem to be.

You don’t know how the relationship ended, though. That’s the thing about Jungkook— with you, he was magic and light, wild and full of compassion, but when it came to sharing his feelings, he always had a hard time expressing them. You are as patient as ever though, never pushing Jungkook to emotional places where he didn’t want to be. 

You will always wait for Jungkook. But is it worth it?

“You should really get out of the house, Jungkook. Go and have fun. Your art will be waiting for you here at home,” you tried to smile as Jungkook handed you your breakfast request.

“You sound like you really want me out of the house, ____.” Jungkook teased.

You dramatically sighed, threw in a slight roll of your eyes for good measure, “I just want what’s best for you. You know that.”

“I always know, ____.” 

You will always look out for him. Love him from afar. You will always choose your best friend. You could only wish that Jungkook would choose you, too.

You definitely felt like an idiot waiting up for Jungkook.

You liked to tell yourself that Jungkook’s mystery date didn’t bother you at all, but being alone in the apartment on your day off didn’t help much because you thought about the said date all day long. 

Here’s the problem: You didn’t know you were so bothered.

Well, you, knew why… in a way. But you didn’t like admitting it to yourself because it becomes so much clearer. Jungkook has always been a constant in your life, a friend through thick and thin-- but that’s the issue. Jungkook is a friend.

You heard faint footsteps becoming louder until someone was punching the code to unlock the door— Jungkook was home. You quickly glanced at the clock. It was only 9 pm. He’s home early, isn’t he? What does coming home early or late from a date even mean ? You shook your head rapidly, willing the ridiculous questions away when the familiar melody of the door successfully unlocking rang through the room, and in came Jungkook. You repositioned yourself at lightning speed, pretended to watch TV, and only looked up when Jungkook came into view.

“Hey. How did your date go?” Your eyes flitted back to the screen in front of you, feigning indifference.

Jungkook plopped next to you on the couch and stretched his legs, “T’was good.”

Turning your body to face Jungkook you asked, “How good is good?”

Jungkook chuckled as he intertwined his fingers behind his neck. He didn’t pry his eyes away from the TV, which was showing a variety show about refrigerators.

“We had dinner. Mia was a nice girl, very polite.”

Ah, so the name was Mia. You slowly nodded before tilting your head to the side, revealing a small smirk, “did you have fun at least?”

“I guess it was alright. You know how awkward blind dates make me feel.”

“What makes them awkward again?”

“I’m not sure exactly… It's like I just don’t know how to act around them, let alone know what to say. It’s— I’m not even sure if she had a good time, to be honest.”

“Well, I’m sure he had a good time,” you turned your attention back to the TV but muted the volume. Why was there a face towel inside one of the refrigerators? 

“What makes you so sure, ____?”

You shrugged, “You’re pretty amazing Jungkook. Funny, smart, very attuned to others. I think you just don’t see it because, you know, it’s you.”

Jungkook pursed his lips. The momentary silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Why are you still up, ____?” Jungkook suddenly murmured. He was still facing the TV, but he had his eyes closed.

You suddenly felt a need to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. When you didn’t respond, Jungkook opened his eyes and turned to face you. “Do you need help sleeping, ____?”

“I really shouldn’t ask for too much, Jungkook. It must be uncomfortable not sleeping in your own bed.”

Jungkook gently flicked a finger at your forehead. You feigned hurt.

“Silly. Come on, let’s get ready for bed. It’s getting late and you have an early class tomorrow, right?” You didn’t even know he remembered your schedule. You let Jungkook pull you by the wrist, leading the way to your bedroom.

Like coming home, you slotted yourself comfortably in between Jungkook’s waiting arms as you both lay in bed. Jungkook rested his chin on top of your head and breathed in your soft, powdery scent. You instantly felt Jungkook relax, all tension starting to ebb away, but maybe it was all just in your head.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook. I just… I don’t know, I have a long day tomorrow and I need to sleep.”

Jungkook adjusted himself in a way to give you some wiggle room but still held you close. “You don’t have to apologize. I completely understand how pressured you must feel, especially because the dance studio is going through big transitions.”

In your mind, you were thinking of all the ways you and Jungkook just clicked . But there’s that tiny part of you that feels that maybe this arrangement wasn’t the most ideal because for all you knew, Mia might just be a really great girl and Jungkook just needed time to warm up to her. Having Jungkook this close was your dream-- a dream you’ve always kept safe in the recesses of your mind. Now that it’s actually happening— and that it’s been happening for a while now— you crave this closeness more and more and yet, you also feel guilty because you needed to run in the opposite direction. Before things got too painful.

“I can hear you thinking.”

Your body went stiff so Jungkook pulled you much closer as he ran a hand through your hair. He looked at you, eyes soft and half-lidded, your faces too close you felt like something else was going to happen.

But nothing ever happened. Of course. 

He held your gaze a bit longer and you wanted to tell him the truth. Tell him to look at you just this once. But words failed you once more.

“Thank you, Gguk.”

Not a lot of words need to be exchanged. You have been friends for so long that almost all your movements and emotions, no matter how subtle, were easily discernible. You know when Jungkook is having one of his creative blocks because he becomes irritable. Jungkook knows that you can sometimes be too hard on yourself when it comes to dancing, so he cooks your favorite bibimbap as a way to ease his stress. You and Jungkook just know how to comfort one another.

“My silly darling,” He never called you that before, but you could almost hear Jungkook smile as he uttered it. “I want to be here.”

If your heart suddenly stopped, you hoped Jungkook didn’t notice. I want to be here, he said. With a languid smile on your tired face, you succumbed to the pull of sleep, hoping your dreams about Jungkook would never end.

“You already picked the last movie, ____.”

“Fine, we can watch one of yours.”

Jungkook’s bunny smile reappeared and your heart grew ten times its size. After eating dinner, you both decided to watch a movie. After all, it was a Friday night and neither of you had the energy to spend it outside with other people. You watched as Jungkook flicked through the movie choices until he finally settled on a Marvel movie. 

You were already halfway through the movie when the doorbell rang. You and Jungkook looked at each other, both of you surprised because you weren’t expecting anyone at this late hour. As you shrugged your shoulders, Jungkook got up to answer the door.

You decided to pause the movie because you didn’t want Jungkook to miss anything, but doing so made it clear that the sudden visitor was actually Yoongi.

The location of the door wasn’t too far off from where you were sitting. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop either, but you couldn’t help but wonder why Jungkook didn't let Yoongi in.

“Mia told me about your date. I don’t understand, Jungkook, you both said you had a great time, so what’s the problem?”

Oh, they were talking about Jungkook’s date. At this hour?

“I don’t know, hyeong. I guess it never occurred to me to call her so quickly after a first date. Did you come all the way here just to ask that?” Jungkook was a fairly mellow person. Almost never irritable with anyone but himself, just very patient even when you could see how other people were already pushing his buttons.

“I think Mia really likes you, Gguk-ah. You should call her. I also came by to bring you back some of your art supples because you left them at the studio yesterday.”

You heard plastic rustling. Jungkook didn’t answer right away, not until his voice lowered, almost sounding like he was pleading.

“Let me think about it, hyeong. Please?”

Yoongi sounded a bit exasperated, “Fine. How’s ____?”

“She’s fine. We were actually watching a movie,” Jungkook was back to his usual tone of voice, but clipper. 

“Oh, that’s nice…”

“Would you like to join us? We still have a beer in the fridge, I think.”

“No, I just… I was just about to go home and thought I’d stop by to give you your things because I already had them in the car, but uh— yeah. Maybe some other time.”

It didn’t register with you right away that Jungkook had Mia’s number. Whether Jungkook asked for it or the other way around, they still exchanged numbers. There was a chance of a second date. You didn’t notice the lump forming in your throat as you came to realize again that Jungkook wasn’t yours. You had no right to think this way about Jungkook and his love life. He lives his own life, free to date anyone, anytime. 

You weren’t supposed to hear this conversation either. The feeling of impending dread slowly crept up on you. All you knew was that whatever you were feeling right now is something that shouldn’t even be happening.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you saw Jungkook return from the corner of his eye. You suddenly lost all strength to continue the movie. Without even thinking, you pulled yourself up to your feet with the intention of going back to your room. Maybe sleep would do something to dull the ache.

But then you remembered you had a hard time doing that, too.

Jungkook opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. You held out hope for a minute there— hope that maybe Jungkook would tell you he was sorry, but then again, what would he be sorry for? He shouldn’t feel sorry for anything, especially not your feelings. 

The sadness was starting to fester through your bones again. You had to get out of the living room, away from the one person who could make you feel better. Wordlessly, you let your feet take you to the bedroom and quietly shut the door. 

Jungkook never tried to pry nor force you to explain anything to him. He was always the understanding one, always the one who gave you your space when you needed it, even when you were being cold to him.

That’s the thing with Jungkook— he knew exactly when to be there for you. Except for this time around, not even Jungkook’s presence can heal an unknown emptiness that you don’t even recognize yourself.

Nine-year-old you never really liked the first few hours after school because that meant you had to stay and wait until your mom picked you up. School grounds can get pretty lonely, especially when all the other kids have already gone home. Young as you were, you found it funny that both you and your mom ended up closing shop every day— you closing school grounds, while your mom closed the register at the grocery store where she worked. 

What nine-year-old you hated the most was when you had to wait after school while it rained because you couldn’t walk around the courtyard and play. 

You hugged your knees as you rocked yourself back and forth watching the rain splatter on the cold, hard ground. Of all days, you forgot to bring a jacket and you were starting to shiver. It was only four o’clock in the afternoon. Your mom wouldn’t arrive until six. 

Just after you let out a big sigh, a boy came running in your direction carrying an umbrella. Strange. No one but you usually stayed at school this late. 

When the boy reached the stairs and closed his umbrella, he shook off excess water from his already wet hair, causing a few droplets to splatter all over your face.

“Oops, sorry about that.”

The boy gave you his widest smile as he continued to catch his breath from running too fast. You usually saw this boy walk along the school hallways, always surrounded by his friends. You were also clubmates in dance.

“My name’s Jungkook. We go to dance club together.”

“I know...” You replied as you rested your chin on top of your knees again.

“You dance really well, I wish I could be as graceful as you… anyway, what are you still doing here?” 

“I’m waiting for my mom. She usually picks me up, but she has to finish her job at the store first.”

“Oh, okay. How long do you still have to wait for her?”

“Probably a few more hours,” you didn’t mean for your tone to be somber, but you couldn’t help it. 

As much as you love your parents, sometimes it can get quite lonely.

“That might take forever!” Jungkook’s eyes grew wide but you found it amusing. Most people would just say ‘oh’ and move on. Or maybe pity you.

“It’s no big deal, I’m used to it already.”

“Well, do you want to grab something to eat first?”

While you knew Jungkook meant no harm, you still wondered why he was offering all of a sudden. What was he even doing here?

“I don’t think—”

“My driver Mr. Hong-sik is parked right outside near a hotteok stand. Let’s go buy some!”

You hesitated because you weren’t supposed to leave the school grounds until an adult came to pick you up but at the same time, you were really hungry. 

“What do you say?”

“Do you promise that we will go back here after buying?”

Jungkook was already nodding, his smile growing wide again upon hearing the possibility of you giving in to the idea of hot hotteok. 

“Yes, of course. Mr. Hong-sik will take care of us, don’t worry. Besides—” Jungkook opened his umbrella, droplets of rain splattered across your face again, “—this umbrella is big enough to fit us both.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

It would only be years later when Jungkook admitted to you that he had known for a while how you spent your days alone after school and that he wanted to keep you company. 

When you were seventeen and Jungkook fifteen, the school dance team won an award. You both celebrated by eating ramen and ice cream at your mother’s grocery store. 

When you and Jungkook went to college, you decided to share a room together because you both got into SNU. Over the years mishaps had happened, you both cringed at each other’s disaster dates, and cried when you had your hearts broken by careless people. Through the highs and lows of life and love, you and Jungkook were a team. 

Now that you are twenty-six and Jungkook twenty-four, you continue to conquer the world together.

Except that you never expected to slowly fall for the boy who accidentally splattered water on your face twice and shared his umbrella.  

“Yah— stop eating all of the danmuji!” Taehyung playfully snapped as he chewed on his jajangmyeon. 

“I already told you to order extra, but of course, you didn’t listen again,” you replied, happily chewing on the kimchi.

“I totally forgot, okay? Let me breathe,” Taehyung pouted. “It’s not every day when little kids come into the studio and wreak havoc during hip hop class.” You chuckled at your best friend’s whining and placed a piece of danmuji on top of his noodles. Taehyung looked to you and mumbled his thanks.

You were sitting with your legs sprawled out on the dance floor of the dance studio. Both of you just finished your separate intensive classes and were fueling up for the next set this afternoon.

“I heard Jungkook went out on a date,” Taehyung isn’t really one for dilly-dallying. Always straight to the point. 

“Yoongi told you, huh?”

“Of course. The man could never hide secrets from me. Not in our household.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Jungkook did go on a date,” you didn’t like where the conversation was going, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop Taehyung from asking further either. A part of you wanted to talk about it with someone. 

“And how do you feel about that?” Taehyung shoved a piece of kimchi onto his mouth and waited for your answer.

You started to re-arrange the toppings on your plate, trying to avoid eye contact all of a sudden, “what do you mean?”

“I know you, ____. You can’t hide from me.”

You chuckled at your best friend’s blunt nature. It’s one of the things you liked most about him because you were the opposite— always caring, understanding, nice. You put others first before yourself because that’s who you are— the reliable friend. You know Taehyung means well and is just looking out for you, too.

“Do I have to answer your question?”

“You don’t have to, but I can tell it’s bothering you. You didn’t even notice that I took the last piece of chicken just now—”

“YAH!”

Taehyung snickered, “But seriously, you’re quiet than usual. Does he still help you sleep?”

“He does.”

“And he hasn’t said anything beyond that?”

“What is he supposed to say?”

Taehyung shrugged, “You tell me.”

“We’re friends, Taehyung. There’s nothing else to say” You let your shoulders sag. You’re surprised at yourself that you’ve been holding the tension in. 

“After everything—” Taehyung paused and bit his bottom lip, trying to carefully choose what to say next, “Did it ever occur to you that maybe the reason why he volunteers to help you sleep is that he likes you too?”

“Stop putting ideas into my head.”

“I’m not, but I do want to point out what you can’t see, ____. I’m your best friend— Jungkook is, too, but with us it’s different. I don’t feel the urge to jump you every so often, ah!---” Taehyung earned a playful smack from you, “Look, all I’m saying is… you and Jungkook have been friends for a really long time so why don’t you just talk to him?”

You started to argue, “It’s not that easy. It might ruin our friendship.”

“But how else are you going to get past this?”

“Take my feelings to the grave,” you expressed glumly.

“So dramatic. And very, very difficult for you to bear all on your own.”

“I’m scared, Taehyung. What if things become awkward?”

“Will Jungkook really let it come to that? He’s your best friend. If he says he doesn’t feel the same way, the more important thing here is you. You and your heart— because at least in knowing, you can finally move forward. Date other people without the what ifs.”

You seemed to mull over Taehyung’s words. 

“I’m not forcing you to ask him. At the end of the day, you get to decide. I just want you to be happy, ____. Always.”

“I know, Taehyung-ie. Thank you.”

You came home that night to Jungkook passed out from exhaustion on their couch. He still had his eyeglasses on, his apple pencil caught in between his fingers. His iPad was on top of the coffee table and you assumed that Jungkook rushed yet again another commission for a client. It was still early— 8 o’ clock. You wondered if Jungkook had already eaten. You draped a blanket over him and adjusted his head on one of the pillows into a more comfortable position. The movement slightly jostled Jungkook awake. With half-lidded eyes, he gave you a sleepy smile.

“Hi ____, you’re home.”

“Hmm, I am.”

“How was class today?”

“Excellent. Did you get to finish that commission?”

Jungkook yawned, “Barely... ”

You reluctantly caressed Jungkook hair, fingers gently rubbing his scalp. As soon as you did, his eyes fell closed. 

“Have you eaten, Gguk-ah?”

“Not yet. I was waiting for you.”

“You didn’t have to. What if I came home really late? You can’t miss your meals.”

“You’re here now, aren’t you?”

You chuckled as he mumbled, “Brat. I’ll whip us up some kimchi kimbap and ramen. How does that sound?”

“I’d love that, thank you.”

“You can sleep more. I’ll wake you up when dinner’s ready.”

“I can help you—”

“Stay put. I’ll be quick, okay?”

Jungkook nodded as he watched you disappear into the kitchen. You prepared all the supplies needed to make dinner and as soon as you started chopping the kimchi for the kimbap, you heard Jungkook’s soft snores. 

Suddenly, all of your fears ebbed away. Emotions were a funny thing— the fondness you had for Jungkook overtook your whole being everytime you looked at him. Sometimes you want to feel angry at how Jungkook seemed oblivious, but then again… he isn’t really a mind-reader. You have always been affectionate with each other and you wondered where people drew the line between friendship and love. What happens when one catches feelings? What happens to both of you if a confession was the way to settle things once and for all? The stakes were too high— confessing your feelings for Jungkook might make him pull away. What happens to the friendship built over the years? If you were lucky, maybe Jungkook might love you, too.

You were in a bind and you didn’t like that.

Jungkook slept on the living room couch, tired from the day’s work. You both make meals for each other. You sleep together on the same bed. Shouldn’t life with Jungkook be this easy? 

And obvious?

After twenty minutes, dinner was ready. You woke Jungkook up and he devoured the simple dinner over stories of your classes and his ideas for the client’s project. 

This friendship is simple. Light. It is a life well lived between two childhood friends that began with a shared an umbrella and hotteok. You wished it was always this uncomplicated. 

Jungkook helped you sleep again that night. Not a lot of words were shared because you were honestly exhausted and just when you thought you didn’t need cuddles, Jungkook went into your room and laid on your bed, not uttering a single word. He only wrapped his arms around you and breathed in your cotton scent. 

“You’re always helping me, Jungkook.”

“Is it working? Are you sleeping well?”

“I am, thanks to you.”

“I’m glad. I’m really glad, ____.”

All is right in this world, all is well with us this way, you thought before you gave in to the pull of sleep for another night. 

You woke up to the sunlight and an empty bed. Muffled sounds could be heard from outside the bedroom.

“Mia’s kind of annoyed that she gave you his number but you still haven’t called her”

“I know.”

“Is this about ____? Is that why you haven’t—”

“I don’t know, hyeong, it’s too early to have this conversation.”

Yoongi came into view as soon as you reached the kitchen. His back was turned to you and it seemed like he was cooking pancakes. Jungkook was sitting on the stool by the counter and had his back to you. 

“Oh, good morning, ____,” Yoongi chimed.

“Good morning.”

Jungkook poured you a glass of orange juice, “Slept well?”

You didn’t have your words yet so you just nodded. Even with Yoongi busy with the stove, you felt the tension that made itself known so suddenly around the kitchen.

And for some reason, Jungkook decided to throw out the trash, leaving you and Yoongi alone for a while.

“How are you, ____” Yoongi asked as he gave you a serving of pancakes, egg, and bacon. The last thing you expected was to wake up to breakfast prepared by a visitor sprinkled with passive confrontation.

You sipped his orange juice again before replying, “I’m doing well. Dance classes are picking up.”

“I’m glad… and Jungkook?”

“What do you mean?”

“How is Jungkook… and you?”

It was way too early for this conversation.

“I need you to be a bit more specific about what you really want to ask me, Yoongi.”

Yoongi was met with an almost deafening silence. You knew that apart from him, Jungkook confided in Yoongi the most. He knew most of Jungkook’s dating escapades and with that, his heart aches too. Yoongi is Jungkook’s fiercest protector, you are well-aware. You understand how he tends to be confrontational especially when it came to Jungkook’s feelings. 

Because they go way back.

In all honesty, you were terrified of Yoongi knowing about how Jungkook had been helping you sleep, but you didn’t know why you were scared. Yoongi is your friend too, after all. 

Maybe because you wanted to keep such intimate moments with Jungkook for yourself. Something that was yours, and yours alone. Unfortunately, you had a gut feeling Yoongi knows a lot more than he’s letting on.

“Jungkook just started dating again, ____.”

“I’m all too aware. I don’t think I’m going to be a problem.”

“It might be if Jungkook helps you sleep every night.”

And there it is.

“We’re just friends, Yoongi. I’m not expecting anything from him.” You felt your heart sink to your feet, trampled on. Yoongi knew. 

But why was frustration rising up in the back of your throat?

“Are you sure you’re not expecting anything?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Tension, tension, tension. You hated it.

“You had your chance once, ____, and you walked away. It’s not fair for you to do this to Jungkook again.”

And there it is. The word again .

You swallowed the lump in your throat, lightly tapping the glass of juice with your fingers, willing for the tears to retreat back to where they came from. You cannot afford to cry in front of Yoongi. Or Jungkook. It was too goddamn early.

You did not sign up to have your memories, your insecurities, and your reality laid bare on the kitchen counter. 

“It doesn’t matter how I feel. Jungkook is my friend. He always will be.”

Vulnerability wasn’t your strongest suit. You weren't your emotions’ best soldier, either. You wanted to yell at Yoongi, shout at him for even implying that you were getting in the way of Jungkook and his dating life.

“Jungkook cannot date freely if he always has to think about coming home to help you sleep,” Yoongi’s words cut like a knife, making you wince. “You know he deserves better than that. You deserve better than that.”

You have very blunt and straightforward friends, and although they keep you grounded, sometimes you hate how they can casually talk to you about your feelings. Sometimes you think they forget that your sunny disposition can also be sometimes moored by rain and storms. 

“I’m sorry, ____. That was too much, I—”

“No, Yoongi, it’s okay,” tears have already fallen and you hastily wiped them away, “You’re right, it was my fault. I’m the one who got us into this mess. I’m the one who has the sleeping problem, I’ll— I’ll figure something out, maybe get checked or something…” You kept your eyes glued to the untouched food in front of you. Throat burning, fresh tears threatening to fall once more.

Yoongi’s words stung— but he’s also right. The pain of the unspoken truth you try so hard to push down every day come rising to the surface and you are powerless to stop it. 

Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, but immediately closed it the moment he looked over your shoulder. Your stomach churned because your worst fears weren’t done with you yet— Jungkook was standing by the door.

“I think it’s time for you to leave, Yoongi hyeong.” The only time you heard apparent hostility in Jungkook’s voice was years ago when someone attempted to jump you at a party. Jungkook is always kind, but when irritation, let alone animosity, takes over, he becomes a completely different person. 

All you knew was that Jungkook and his girlfriend in tornado form are over.

The music blaring from the speakers were too loud, everyone was all over the place— Jungkook, Yoongi, Taehyung. It was Jungkook’s idea to get wasted at a club. You didn’t always agree with Jungkook’s coping mechanisms, because you knew he was a terrible drinker— someone who couldn’t hold his liquor well. 

But he was heartbroken and what do good friends do? Let them cry and wallow.

But right now, it was time to go home. You called a cab for Yoongi and Taehyung, while you and Jungkook got into another. It was a good decision that you didn’t bring your own car. You wouldn’t have any other choice but to drag Jungkook’s drunk ass to the passenger seat and you weren’t sure you could manage that.

You were thankful that Jungkook could still manage to walk, even if he needed to be physically supported by you. You both fumbled for a bit as you closed your apartment door behind you.

“Alright, you big baby, take off your shoes.”

Jungkook did as he was told, but you could tell his body was about to give up on him so you hastily walked him to the bedroom.

You heaved a big sigh after Jungkook collapsed into the mattress. You could hear Jungkook’s breathing slowly steady itself and you honestly thought he was asleep.

“Are you dead?”

When Jungkook didn’t move, a playful smirk painted your lips and you shook your head. You leaned in closer to fluff Jungkook’s pillow, when his head suddenly turned to face you. 

With eyes half-lidded, you thought Jungkook looked beautiful underneath the sliver of moonlight shining through the bedroom window. He reeked of alcohol and smoke, but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t help but hold his gaze.

Hesitant fingers reached up to trace the skin on your cheek. Jungkook blinked once as he ran gently ran his fingers from the corner of your eye to your chin.

Jungkook’s voice was so soft, you almost didn't hear him ask, “Why don’t you like me, ____?”

“What are you talking about, of course I like you.”

Jungkook shook his head, “That’s not what I meant…”

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. You reminded yourself that Jungkook was intoxicated. He wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. He might not even know what he is doing or saying right now.

“Why can’t you love me, ____?” Jungkook swallowed the lump forming in his throat, “because I have loved you for so long and you won’t even look at me.”

You wanted to cry, but you didn’t exactly know why, “That’s not true, Jungkook.”

“Then prove it, ____.”

“I don’t know how.”

Jungkook, in a way, helped you. With eyes focused on your lips, he slowly lifted his head to graze your mouth with his own. When he finally kissed you, your head was spinning that you had to use your arm for support to keep you up.

Jungkook mustered up all of his remaining strength to sit up on the bed to kiss you properly. He cupped your face with his hand and you did the same. Under the same moonlight, you and Jungkook started to take that one step closer to finally acknowledging what has been there all along.

But in your head, you didn’t know what you want.

Lips separated, letting the both of you breathe. Jungkook touched his forehead against yours before his lips planted a light, lingering kiss there.

Your heart sank even deeper and you fought the tears that were about to come.

Because even though you really loved Jungkook, you and he were at the right place at the wrong time.

The next morning, you and Jungkook weren’t the type to dance around each other. He did remember what happened last night.

“I need to know, ____. I need to know what you want.”

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nodded, but you didn’t miss the flash of sadness that passed through his once hopeful eyes. 

“Are we still friends at least?”

It took all of you to nod your head in agreement. It was better this way.

“Of course we are.”

“Then that’s all I want, ____.”

Just as Yoongi closed the door behind him and it was just you and Jungkook in the now tense atmosphere of the apartment, confusion flooded you. Dread soon followed upon realizing what had just happened. 

You were holding Jungkook back and it’s all your fault. All because you still couldn’t decide what you really want. 

When Jungkook finally locked eyes with you, his gentle gaze made your heart flutter. You don’t deserve it, you thought. But you were allured by it-- so easy to get lost in the sea of Jungkook’s beautiful, observant brown eyes, like they were meant to see right through you, heart and soul. Your face slowly morphed into a pain Jungkook didn’t recognize, a sadness he hasn’t seen before. Your bottom lip began to quiver and before you knew it, you full-on sobbed into your hands. Just as quickly as the collapse of everything began, Jungkook was swift on his feet, taking you into his arms. 

Jungkook embraces you tightly, his breathing controlled in an effort to curb your sobs. You could hear Jungkook’s heartbeat and it was an odd source of comfort despite the distress you were actively feeling. You felt Jungkook’s large hand stroke your hair in slow motion, chin resting on top of your head as if trying to silently tell you don’t cry.

Being with Jungkook felt like drowning and coming up for air all at the same time— your constant, but also your poison. Yoongi was right, Jungkook deserves to be happy after you blew your chance to tell him how you really felt. 

You loved Jungkook, but you had to let him go because he doesn’t deserve to be with someone who cannot make up her mind. When you said no to him a year ago, you thought it was the best for the both of you— Jungkook was hurting and he kissed you because he was drunk and in pain. Not because he loves you. You thought that maybe after some time had passed, what happened that night would just be a distant memory between two friends who had a momentary lapse of judgment.

You have to let him go because it’s the right thing to do, the only way to save the friendship you built over the years. You once saved it, you cannot mess up again. It was selfish, yet so selfless.

When you finally calmed down a little bit more and your breathing slowed, Jungkook loosened his grip. You immediately felt the distance once more, but it was as if Jungkook heard your thoughts because he only pulled away to wipe your tears with his thumbs. Jungkook’s hands cupped your face for a while longer, staring into your teary eyes. Jungkook mumbled an apology as he pressed his forehead with yours. As he closed his eyes, you received a glimpse of Jungkook’s sadness without words. 

Loving Jungkook isn’t supposed to be painful.

Jungkook had to meet a new client so that meant he needed to leave the apartment. You could tell it was difficult for him to leave you all alone in the apartment, but Jungkook only asked if you were going to be okay.

You struggled to leave home that day, but you had to because if you didn’t get out and teach dance, you would continue to drown in your own suffering. You both left the apartment with nothing but your unspoken words and broken hearts.

Jungkook would find himself running late for his meeting and he arrived home to what he thought was a dark, empty apartment. Trodding down the hall to your room, he was mildly surprised to see the door was slightly ajar. Lying on the bed was you. Sleeping.

Jungkook quietly entered the room and knelt down by the side of the bed. Staring at you, with the moonlight shining down on your face, you looked serene— a stark contrast to the chaos that transpired earlier that day. Your lips were slightly parted and Jungkook found himself smiling at the sight. He gently ran his knuckles down your cheek. He did that for a while, just intentionally watching and helping you sleep even more peacefully in the gentlest way. Jungkook was thankful that you didn’t seem to be aware that you weren't alone. 

You kept your eyes closed as you reveled in the softness of Jungkook’s touch. You initially thought you were dreaming of Jungkook kneeling beside you because after all, the sleep gummies seemed to knock you out enough to fall asleep without him this time. But you realized it wasn’t a dream.

Jungkook came home.

The ache in your heart returned, but at the same time, you wished this moment of Jungkook comforting you never ended. Because at least you could have Jungkook like this.

“Will you stay still, ____? I’m not done yet.” 

You pouted as you watched Jungkook draw a bowl of ramen on your leg cast. You injured yourself while attempting to do a tourner for an after-school ballet class. You and Jungkook were now in university and renting an apartment together. Your leg rested on Jungkook’s lap while you both sat on the living room couch. Jungkook slightly had his tongue out while he colored in the ribbons and you scoffed.

“Are you done now?”

“You don’t rush art.”

“Yeah but I’m hungry and I think my leg is asleep.”

Jungkook smirked, “Your leg being in a cast doesn’t really have a choice given the circumstances, what did you expect?” You smacked him with a pillow, “You asshole, give me my leg back.”

“Ow! Nuh uh. I’m almost done.”

You huffed, feigning annoyance. But you were actually endeared with Jungkook’s enthusiasm to draw a different object on your leg cast every week. The moment you got out of the hospital and after Jungkook fed you some jjampong, he carried you to the same living room couch and drew the yellow umbrella he used the day you bought hotteok. The following week, it was a sketch of a person dancing ballet which Jungkook referred to as, “the loveliest ballet dancer in the universe.” This week, it was ballet shoes hanging on one side of the backrest of a chair.

“There, done!” Jungkook slightly pulled away to admire his work then he turned and gave you his dorkiest smile. You could never ask for more.

Weeks passed as you and Jungkook fell into usual routine. You can no longer recall since when you started having a hard time communicating feelings. It wasn’t like you and Jungkook fought a lot because you almost never do. But there’s always that elephant in the room that neither of you choose to address even though it’s already staring back at you both.

On Jungkook’s birthday, Taehyung decided it would be good for you all to spend your time at a club after having dinner. From the get-go, the people in attendance were the birthday boy, Taehyung, Yoongi, you, and Mia.

Needless to say, you were awkward and in pain the entire time.

It was your first time to actually see Jungkook pay attention to someone else in a romantic way. Although he and Mia have yet to put a label on anything, they continued to date, much to your misery.

At the birthday dinner, you tried your best not to look at Jungkook and Mia the whole time, but by some strange magnetic force, everytime you unconsciously looked at Jungkook, his eyes found you.

Come to think of it, Mia was the clingy one the whole night. But maybe you were just misinterpreting things. When Taehyung suggested they go to a club, you internally groaned. Not only was this a repeat performance of what you did wrong a year ago, but it was also like salt being rubbed on a wound that never completely healed well. 

“Fuck it, let’s get wasted,” you thought. You weren’t about to let your misery ruin a fun night.

So much for that, though. You couldn’t even pay attention to your drink because Mia was already trying to get too close to Jungkook. The whole time, Jungkook’s expressions were unreadable. One of his many stupid traits, you sarcastically thought. 

You don't know exactly what happened after— Jungkook went to the bar to order more drinks for the table, followed not too long by Mia. She was relentless in flirting with Jungkook who seemed stoic and indifferent and awkward. Mia must have been really bad at reading people. Still, she didn’t give up that easily because she dragged Jungkook to the middle of the dance floor and tried to get him to dance. 

Maybe you just wanted to see what you wanted to, but if you really were in the right frame of mind, you swore you saw Jungkook finally give in and dance with her. 

Jungkook was having fun with someone else on his birthday. This is what he deserves— to be happy and free. Jungkook doesn’t have to sacrifice his time just to help you sleep every night. 

You felt like you were about to throw up. The room started spinning and suddenly all you could hear were muffled sounds of the music bass. Before you knew it, you were making your way to the exit. You needed to get out. You faintly heard Taehyung calling out to you, asking what was wrong but the tightness in your chest demanded much of your attention. 

When you reached the exit, you pushed the door all the way with all your might and started to walk. You were relieved for once that you weren’t able to drink a drop because you needed a clear head to get home safely. The club was a short distance from the apartment and all you wanted to do was lie in bed and cry yourself to sleep. 

It has been weeks. Weeks of skirting around Jungkook, acting like nothing was amiss. It worked for a while, but you knew it would backfire eventually.

You didn’t think this plan of ignoring feelings would fail you so soon. You thought you were stronger.

Your hands were shaking so badly that you struggled to enter the correct passcode to the door: 090197.

You cursed at the irony. 

Not bothering to turn on the lights, you stumbled in the dark and took off your heels. You went straight to your room and collapsed on the bed. You let the tears stain his pillow. This isn’t new to you now— crying. It somehow helped you sleep, anyway. Right now, you don't care if you cried your eyes raw. You were hurt, in pain, and you didn’t know what to do.

Nights felt like an eternity for an insomniac like you. Your thoughts were your biggest enemy in the dead of night and most of the time you are powerless to control them. You shouldn’t have allowed Jungkook to help you in the first place. Otherwise, you wouldn’t find yourself in this predicament. You’ve already kept your distance before, why did you fail again now? You should’ve known your place, the order in this world. You were Jungkook’s best friend, and you decided that for the both of you that day you told him you were sorry.

Ruminating thoughts can be a bitch because it makes you oblivious to your surroundings in real time.

You suddenly felt the other side of the bed dip. You heard sheets rustle and felt a different kind of warmth-- the kind that only your best friend could give.

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you and breathed in your scent. In the silence of your room, Jungkook, once again, came home to you.

Both of you didn’t speak for a long while, just listening to each other’s rhythm. You felt your bottom lip quiver— you were on the verge of crying again and as you started to sit up and perhaps leave, you felt Jungkook tighten his grip as he clasped his fingers together, securing you in place.

“Please don’t cry.”

You swallowed and tried to reply, but your voice cracked instead, “Why are you here, Jungkook?”

“I want to stay here with you.”

“It’s your birthday.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Then why?”

“Like I said, I want to stay here with you.”

Like wildfire, your heart swelled even when your brain told you not to fall for Jungkook’s words. That you were only reading too much into things, “What about—”

“I told them I wanted to go home because you already did. I turned around to look for you because I heard the barista said there were french fries, but you weren’t at the table anymore.”

Tears started to stream down your face and you were grateful you weren't facing Jungkook. 

“I hate being the reason why you always cry, ____. I have done absolutely nothing to make things better for you and I keep making you feel sad.” Jungkook’s voice was laced with tight emotion and it was something you were hearing for the first time. Jungkook buried himself deeper in the crook of your neck.

“It hurts so much, Jungkook.”

Lifting his head, Jungkook moved in closer to whisper in your ear, “I know. I know. I’m so sorry.” 

You breathed a deep sigh as you willed away the tears. Right on cue, Jungkook gently turned your body to face him. “That’s better,” Jungkook gently smiled, pushing strands of hair away from your face.

With Jungkook’s right arm under your head and his left engulfing you in an embrace, you curled into Jungkook’s chest. No matter what pain you may be feeling, it all dissipates once you’re with Jungkook. 

“I am so sorry, ____. I’m sorry I keep running away.”

You let a small smile take over his lips, “No, Jungkook. You don’t have to apologize. All of this is my fault”

“It’s not… it’s not your fault. It’s mine,” you saw Jungkook swallow. You looked over Jungkook’s shoulder, at the clock situated on top of the side table. Thirty minutes left until Jungkook's birthday ends.

“It’s still your birthday. You shouldn’t be spending it apologizing for something you didn’t do.”

“I am enjoying my birthday because I haven’t lost you yet. And it is my fault, stop fighting me.” Jungkook smiled. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are? Especially under moonlit skies.”

“I don’t think so. Not yet.”

“Then allow me to tell you now. You’re beautiful. The most beautiful person inside out and I am so lucky to have you. Thank you for not leaving me.”

You scooted closer to Jungkook, trying to fill in all the spaces in between. 

It was almost a whisper and you almost didn’t hear it, “Sleep well my silly, beautiful darling,” your eyes flutter close as you felt Jungkook give you a kiss on your temple— a reassuring one, this time. 

“Hey.”

You jumped at the sound of Jungkook’s unusually low voice. “Shit,” you mumbled, earning a pretty smile from Jungkook. “How long have you been standing there?”

The smile didn’t leave Jungkook’s face as he apologized and said with all honesty, “A while.”

You have been spending more late nights in the studio since you and Taehyung started offering additional classes. You held a beginner’s ballet class for children after school hours and you felt you had to spend more time thinking about their routines. Kids need structure, lest their attention becomes too difficult to get a hold of. Jungkook, being the sweetest, always stayed up to wait for you to get home and eat dinner together. 

This time around, Jungkook decided to pick you up from the studio.

You took in the sight of Jungkook who was leaning against the door frame, wearing a cream oversized sweater and white pants. Even in the dimly lit room, Jungkook’s handsome face was radiant.

Seeing him feels like coming home.

Jungkook walked up to you with his hands in his pockets, “I always get caught up in your world whenever I watch you dance. That hasn’t changed.” He was suddenly standing so close to you that you had to clear his throat. Yet you didn’t pull away, either.

“Time passes when that world is not working in my favor,” you said as you rolled your shoulders backward.

“Is this the ballet class for the kids?” 

You hummed in response, “One would think it’s easy enough to make a routine for little kids when really, going back to basics sometimes is the hardest thing.”

“What did you use to tell me?” Jungkook asked warmly, all innocence and love, but you recognized that tone of his. 

“Jungkook—”

“Help me remember, ____. How did we do it back then? When we couldn’t figure out a new routine,” you heard the heels of Jungkook’s white chelsea boots clatter against the wooden floor as he stepped away a bit from you.

You were taken back to your days in the dance club with Jungkook, the two of you in a smaller studio after school practicing for competitions. You and Jungkook were the group’s best dancers and that also meant you were almost always tasked to come up with new choreography. You recalled how you and Jungkook used to practice no matter how long it took. 

Right now, at this very moment, as Jungkook gently urges you to remind you of those days, you appreciated what he was trying to do.

“I’d always tell you, ‘I’m tired, I don’t want to do this anymore,’”

“Hm, and how did I respond?” Jungkook’s eyes never left your face and his voice was so low, that it sent shivers up your spine.

“You’d tell me we didn’t have to do the things other people ask us to dance… not right now.” you breathed as Jungkook’s face inched closer to yours, so close that you could already hear Jungkook’s heartbeat. 

“And then?”

“We’d dance. For ourselves, together.” 

Just as the words escaped your lips, Jungkook slightly pulled away to take his phone out of his pocket, scroll through a playlist, the very same playlist Jungkook uses whenever you both lounge around on a Sunday morning. He found the song he was looking for and pressed play.  

Jungkook put his phone back in his pocket and whispered, “We dance. For ourselves, together.” He wrapped an arm around your waist while his other hand trailed down to hold your own, intertwining both sets of fingers. Falling, you easily melted into Jungkook, your worries about the ballet routines already forgotten.

With bodies pressed close, you felt your heart plummet to a deep dive into your stomach, leaving butterflies as it burst into a million pretty pieces. Jungkook was never one for sweet words, always choosing to convey his thoughts and feelings through his art. He had given you plenty of his work over the years, drawn on crumpled tissue papers or on the back of receipts. Always in all honesty quietly telling you he was there for you no matter what.

And through dance, he was the same— loving, thoughtful, yours. 

“It has been a while since you last danced, right?”

Jungkook leans his forehead into yours, his eyes focused on the floor. He hums his response as he starts to lead the dance.

“It has been a while since I last danced with you,” Jungkook whispered. “Dance with me so I remember, my love.”

You close your eyes, resting your chin on Jungkook’s shoulder, “Remember what, Jungkook?”

“Help me remember everything good about you and me.” 

And although Jungkook couldn’t see it, you smile as you tilt your head to the side. You let Jungkook lead the both of you to the melody of the music for a good few minutes until you fell into a slow, swaying rhythm. 

“I missed dancing with you like this,” you swore you felt Jungkook tighten his hold around your middle a little bit more. Jungkook dropped a kiss to your bare shoulder and said with all reverence, “I miss you, ____.”

He misses you, not missed. You never wanted to let him go. 

You didn’t want to stop touching Jungkook so as you continued to allow your feet to be led by him, you ran a trail using your hand from Jungkook’s shoulders, landing on his chest. Jungkook ran his own hand at the expanse of your back, waiting, waiting. 

“And I miss you too,” you said with a smile. Jungkook cupped your face and ran a thumb to your cheekbone. Never leaving your eyes, he responded, “It’s always a pleasure to dance with you, ____.”

“I always seem more eager to dance when I’m with you,” you said. 

And I always love dancing with you.

“That’s because we know each other’s moves well. We’re in sync no matter how long it’s been.”

Tentatively, you respond, “Maybe we should do it again… more often, this time.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all. I’ll dance with you forever.” 

You and Jungkook went home that night and slept once more in each other’s arms. You noticed a change this time. You felt peaceful, more hopeful. Jungkook didn’t say anything definitive, still, but maybe his heart did. 

And you fell into a quiet sleep as soon as Jungkook kissed your temple. This time, his kiss was more intentional, more heartfelt, like he never wants to let you go.

Not again. 

You woke up the next morning still reeling from the dance you shared with Jungkook. Always the romantic, you thought as you shook your head. Usually, Jungkook was already up and about before you even opened one eye, but life continues to surprise you. 

Jungkook was sitting on the bed, drawing on his iPad. You couldn’t believe it at first— you rubbed sleep out of your eyes and looked at your own phone for the time. It was 8 o’clock and Jungkook was drawing.

The minute you moved, Jungkook was attentive. He stopped drawing as he turned to you to mumble a good morning. 

“Good morning to you, too. What are you doing so early in the morning?”

“Oh, I woke up earlier—”

Cutting him off, you teased, “You always do.” 

Jungkook chuckled, the crinkles in around his eyes so evident, so endearing, “Yeah. Um… I just— the morning light through the window was just so beautiful and I had to draw it.”

“You drew a sunrise at 8 o’clock?”

You rolled your eyes as Jungkook said matter-of-factly, “Actually, 6 o’clock… but no, I didn’t draw the sunrise, not exactly.”

“Then what did you draw?”

Instead of responding, Jungkook gave you his iPad. You realized Jungkook drew you. Jungkook used digital watercolor brushes to paint a picture of you sleeping with your bedroom window behind you. Sunlight accentuated the side of your face, expression tranquil. 

“It’s not finished yet, I need to fill in some of the—“

“It’s beautiful, Jungkook.”

“You always say that, ____.”

“Because your works are beautiful. Every single one of them,” you couldn’t stop admiring Jungkook’s work. You felt your throat constrict once more, emotions starting to take over. This isn’t the first time Jungkook drew you, but it’s definitely the first time you felt something different after seeing his art— a love that continues to blossom, a love for Jungkook that never withered. For the past few weeks, you felt like you were slowly coming to terms with you and him being just best friends, but after last night, you were starting to backslide. 

You will always love Jungkook no matter what— you know that now. Maybe not in the way you want, but Jungkook will continue to have a special hold on your heart that no one else can replace. 

“Thank you for this, Gguk-ah. Can we print and frame this? When you’re done, that is.”

“Of course, ____. I’m glad you like it.”

One of the things you and Jungkook appreciate about the apartment is the silence because it’s never an awkward one. In silence, you’re both comfortable— awkward and pain and everything else in between. In the shared space, you and Jungkook are free to love one another.

In silence, you also hear each other’s hunger. You giggled as Jungkook turned beet red. After all these years of living together, Jungkook still tended to be embarrassed around you. One of the many adorable Jeon Jungkook traits that you love.

“That’s my cue to make breakfast.”

You stood up and ran a hand through your hair before pocketing your phone. Jungkook didn’t move an inch. You didn’t think much of it, but just as you were about to walk out the door, Jungkook called out to you and scrambled to his feet. 

Mornings with Jungkook more often than not are calm, but when you saw Jungkook walk up the short distance to where you were standing, his gaze so strong, your heart began to race. Because you were standing too close to each other, you felt Jungkook take a deep breath before uttering the words you never thought you’d hear from him.

“Don’t leave me.”

At first, you thought you heard wrong. A few seconds later your brain told you that maybe it was Jungkook’s way of saying that he wanted you both to stay in bed a little while longer because after all, it was a Sunday.

But then a third thought came to you, the most dreaded one— what if?

“S-say that again.”

It was physically impossible for Jungkook to get even closer to you. The wide smile drawn on his face made all the difference.

“Don’t leave me.”

Like a bucket of cold water doused on you, you couldn’t believe what Jungkook was really trying to tell you. Your childhood best friend, the man of your dreams. The one person who will move mountains for you without being asked is trying to tell you something you longed to hear.

“Say that again… o-one more time.”

Tears threatened to flow from your sparkling eyes and Jungkook was quick to hold you small face in his hands, “____. Please… don’t ever leave me.”

You struggled not to cry so much upon finally understanding what Jungkook was really trying to say. You wanted to respond to Jungkook’s plea, but all that came out was a sob. Jungkook peppered your face with soft kisses down to your jaw. You found yourself holding on to Jungkook, grip like a vice. You don't want to let him go. You will never. 

Not again.

You tried your best to properly respond this time, “Don’t worry, Gguk. I will never, ever leave you.” You ran your knuckles down Jungkook’s face, “I was just going to make us breakfast because you’re hungry.”

Jungkook laughed at how you could still manage to make an intimate moment so endearing. He held your wrist and kissed the palm of your hand before leaning in to finally kiss you full on your lips. His kiss was tentative at first until he decided to be bolder, silently asking you to let him in. You readily gave Jungkook access to kiss you even deeper. Like wildfire, heat spreads throughout your body— this is what it feels like to kiss Jungkook without reservation. This is what it feels like to kiss your best friend, no holds barred.

Overwhelmed with affection, you felt yourself being lifted by Jungkook and your legs automatically cling to his waist. The position gave him an even better angle to kiss the person he has longed for almost all his life, “How long, Jungkook? How long have you really liked me?”

You didn’t think Jungkook would immediately understand what you were trying to ask, “Since that day I asked you to dance with me under the rain.”

Jungkook saw the look of recognition in your eyes. He knew you knew what he was referring to. “I have always been in love with you, ____. I just… I was so scared of you rejecting me that I thought it was best if I kept my feelings to myself. I tried dating other people because I thought maybe that would help me get to know others better.”

And as if Jungkook could read your mind, he kissed your forehead before talking again.

“I don’t regret kissing you that night… I was drunk, but I was sober enough to know and remember what I said. We broke up because she told me I was always distracted. I always thought of you everywhere we went. She told me I never really moved on… that I still call out your name even when I was with someone else. When you told me no then, I knew it was my fault for not thinking things through. It was my mistake that I didn’t communicate with you better, ____. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t have a lot of words to respond with, not after that speech from Jungkook so you only asked ever so meekly, “And Mia?”

“I told her we were better off as friends. She took it quite well than I expected. I think deep down, she knew too.”

“Knew what?”

“That I was undeniably, irrevocably in love with you.”

“Do you really have to use big adjectives?”

Jungkook shrugged and chuckled, “Makes for good conversation. I’m trying to communicate better, remember?”

It was your turn to chuckle and lean your forehead against his. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, ____. I put you through so much pain and I just let it happen.”

You shook your head, wanting to let Jungkook know this wasn’t all on him.

“If anything, you have always made me so happy, Jungkook. I don’t get to show you how much all the time.”

“Can we start over?” Jungkook looked at you, full of hope.

“I would love that.”

“I love you, ____.”

My best friend in this entire world, whom I love.

“I love you, too, Jungkook.”

My best friend in this entire world, who loves me back.

Your hotteok was already paid for by Jungkook before you even had the chance to pay for it yourself. “It’s all taken care of,” Jungkook said.

Both of you were already hungry from running so you decided to eat right there under the hotteok stand. You could see a black car parked across the street and assumed that it must be Mr. Hong-sik. You both ate in silence for a while, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain until you felt Jungkook tugging your sleeve.

“What’s wrong?”

“Come on, ____”

“Where are we going?”

“There!”

You looked to where Jungkook was pointing with his finger. There was nothing there but the school.

“You want to go back to where we came from?”

“Not really. School is boring,” Jungkook mused and before you knew it, you were being pulled in the middle of pouring rain.

“What are you doing, Jungkook? We are going to get wet!”

“We already are, ____! Come on!”

You both had to shout over the steady noise of the rain. You realized Jungkook wasn’t kidding— he was really under the rain, in the middle of the school’s wide, open space, waiting for you to join him. 

“You are insane, Jeon Jungkook!” you shouted, but he just grinned that much harder. He took both your hands and led you to jump and dance in the rain.

“Maybe I am, but it’s fun to dance in the rain with someone else!”

You felt so glad to be living the same time with someone as Jungkook after that day. 

The day you will forever be grateful for.

[cookycherry]

Pirate King: Kim Hongjoong Oneshot

I’ll probably add more parts let’s be honest

How I pictured Hongjoong to look when I wrote this OH CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN

Pairing- Hongjoong x Reader

Genre- pirate AU, smut,touch of enemies to lovers, fem!reader

Warning-smut, unprotected sex, choking

Word count-4,534

Summary- You have a job to finish. Assassinate Hongjoong, leader of the pirates. However, once you get on board his ship things take a turn. You have met your match in more ways than one.

He was there.

Three feet away from you.

From your hidden spot; between wooden planks you could watch your target, watch as he made his way freely and unaware. Predator hunting predator.

Your grip on your blade tightened. Once you completed the bounty you’d be drowning in riches.

Hongjoong. He was your ticket to freedom.

One of the Atiny pirates and the captain. His bounty made him famous. Infamy suited him. He was as handsome as his wanted poster painted him to be.

Fawn colored shaggy hair, a cropped fringe fell on his forehead while some hung longer along the nape of his neck in a way that worked for him. Kohl was ringed messily around his intense eyes. He was clad in a fur coat and black leathers, weapons attached to him. His crewmates were the same; handsome and deadly.

He stalked around the ship deck similar to a lion on the prowl. His dark eyes shot around, taking in every detail around him; pointing out things his crew mates forgot or needed to fix. Every now and then he and his mates would speak in a tongue that your ears picked up must have been the mother language from where they hailed from.

You just needed the sun to set, for them all to pass out like pirates did, then you could creep into his captain's quarters, drive your blade clean into his chest then disappear into the night.

Being a stowaway for an assassination job was not something you pictured for yourself but you were desperate. You needed this money and needed to make a name for yourself; he was that big ticket.

Nervous sweat beaded along your neck as you pushed yourself back tighter into the storage cabinet you had claimed. You rested against the wooden containers that reeked of wine.

The sun was at its peak, hours it would be before you could taste some victory. You bid your time fantasizing about how you would spend your earnings.

—

You awoke with a jolt. Rubbing your eyes you sat up, it was quiet and dark. You didn’t know how long you had been asleep but could not sense any of the loud voices from earlier in the night air.

You felt the way the ship swayed along the waters. Listening to the lapping of waves.

Now was the time.

He had to have been asleep.

You slowly opened the door from your hidden location and scanned the deck. A faint light from one of the lanterns at the head of the ship; one of his men doing a night watch. Perfect.

You slid out from your spot and pulled yourself up against the wall to a higher perch. Most ships you knew had a similar layout, towards the middle and probably down a small corridor is where you’d find his quarters.

You focused your breathing as you wiggled your toes in your boots, reminding yourself to relax. You'd done this plenty of times before.

—

His room was dark, only some moonlight shown through a small window he had. His bed was massive and in the center of the room. Random items of his hanging on the wooden walls and scattered on the ground similar to a beast den.

The wood of the ship creaked, reminding you where you were. He was in that bed, blissfully unaware.

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling tense. You pulled the blade from your thigh, gripping it with the same intensity each time you had to do this. Silently, you jumped on the bed shoving the blade down but only meeting a feathered mattress. Panic creeped up your spine.

“Wow, you are good.” A playfully evil laugh followed.

You quickly shot your body to flip around. Meeting eyes with the captain himself.

He leaned against the wooden wall. Now shirtless and wearing those same leather pants and worn boots. He grinned and you could see perfect teeth. He cocked his head to the side.

“You really thought I didn’t know someone had snuck their way on my ship?” You were frozen on his bed unable to move.

You watched as he walked his way from the wall, his body moving elegantly as he grew closer, his boots tapping heavily against the floor.

He now was looking down at you, your eyes couldn’t break away from his fiery stare.

He leaned down, letting you in on a secret.

“Next time you have an assassination job, keep the perfume at home. I know Wooyoung doesn’t smell like jasmine.” Your pulse pounded. You felt as he took a strand of your hair and played with it between his fingers.

“I honestly have always dreamt of a woman coming to me at night. Breaking in and climbing in my bed.” You felt your face redden as your eyes met his.

Without much thought you went to jab the blade up and hoped your aim landed him in his side. He was quicker. Grabbing your wrist he disarmed you and swatted the blade into the wayside, out of either of your reach.

“My weakness is a woman who could actually kill me.” He laughed that mesmerizing laugh again.

Your faces were inches from each other. You wouldn’t deny that he was one of the most handsome men you had encountered yourself with.

It went against everything you stood for but you threw all common sense aside as you pushed yourself up and pressed your lips to his. Something about him made you crave his existence.

A surprised groan echoed from his throat as he pressed his lips intensely to yours. You felt as his lips parted, taking control. His tongue playfully swiped against yours, testing the waters. He proceeded to crush you against his body, trapping you in a suffocating hold that stifled the air in your lungs.When you finally earned a respite, you took a gulp of oxygen through swollen lips, the flesh buzzing from his expert kisses. Your eyes met and you traded silent promises of lust and fire that could only be understood in moments like these. You both knew without words what you both needed and wanted.

Your hands moved to his pants, Hongjoong watched and glanced down keeping his eyes fixated on your hands as you worked at unlacing; you were shaking with excitement and adrenaline.

Hongjoong grinned, “I’ll do a better job. You’re going to second guess ever getting on this ship.” He teased as hiked up your blouse, exposing your waist.

“Ruin me.” You retorted.

Revealing your bare waist, Hongjoong took his sweet time, making sure his palms settled on your skin and rubbed lazily. He worked up your blouse higher and higher until he connected with your breasts. Swiftly, Hongjoong pulled the garment over your head and tossed it across the room.

Before you could react, his face was buried between your breasts, kissing and tonguing between the ample cleavage your bust offered. When you feel the warmth of his hands on your back,you bite your tongue.

“Hongjoong,” you panted,revealing you knew his name, showing him how badly you were melting from his touches.

He grabbed your hips and spun you around, forcing you to face the closed door to his quarters as he crowded your back. His rough hands settled on your breasts, kneading them smoothly while his lips found the top of your shoulder. He was animalistic.

You tipped your head back, your nails digging into his clothed thigh as he toyed with your breasts, his hot mouth leaving a burning trail up the side of your neck. Eyes closed, you hummed with euphoria, curving your body into his.

Hongjoong groaned ever so slightly, mimicking your rhythm to rub the bulge trapped in his pants against your body.

When he bared his teeth and bit the side of your neck, sucking on the blemish to soothe the sting, your lips parted in a gasp and you mewled and repeated, “Ruin me.”

Hongjoong tongued the bruise he made and whispered, “You’re going to have me all night. Relax and enjoy it, Stowaway.”

His hands squeezed your breasts and you rutted your hips backwards into him to express your delight at his quiet promise.

“I would relax better… if you took your pants off,” you quipped mischievously, rubbing your body against his crotch for sport.

Hongjoong hissed through clenched teeth and pinched your nipples, earning a yelp from you.

“You… first,” he growled in your ear.

Your hands immediately darted for the fastening on your trousers, but you abruptly stopped as he grabbed your fingers and returned them to the bed. Carefully, his hand dipped into your pants, palming your dripping core.

“You’re so wet,” he said with a shudder, almost in disbelief.

That was a gracious description. You could already hear the dampness as it coated his arching fingers. One swiped over your clit before teasing it and you responded the best way you knew how - by moaning loudly.

“I still can’t believe I make you this wet,” Hongjoong huffed, voice trembling.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you murmured, “I want you.”

“I know,” he sighed, kissing your jaw now tenderly.

Gripping the bed for support, you picked up the slack. Now grinding your lower body on to his fingers and along his bulge as he was pressed against you, holding you. Dripping with your arousal, Hongjoong pressed a pair of his long digits into your entrance and you cried his name, finally getting relief for the ache of desire you had for him.

“Fuck yourself on me,” he ordered softly, thrusting his clothed erection into the curve of your ass with abandon. He sounded like the captain you heard earlier, demands he ordered now directed at you.

Nodding, you gripped the bed, fingers tangling in the sheets, trying to find a tempo that worked for both of you. His thumb rubbed your clit furiously while you did everything you could to get yourself a high from his crooked fingers in your core. You had gone so long without this kind of relief. You hadn’t found anyone in such a long time that softened your edges like this, you didn’t even have the urge to pleasure yourself. You didn’t realize how badly you wanted to climax until you felt the tears prick at your eyes from the racing of your heart and the throbbing of your pulse.

The moment you shivered and swore, Hongjoong withdrew his hand and you reacted borderline violently, mixing up words as you expressed your fury.

“Take your pants off,” he told you calmly.

You obeyed mindlessly, tearing your pants off, once they cleared past your ankles Hongjoong clutched you with a vengeance, flipping you around to face him and smashing you into the bed. You whimpered for mercy, muffled by his mouth on yours as he kissed you hungrily. His hips jerked against you and you spread your legs, inviting him between your thighs like it was the one thing you wanted for the rest of your life.

“Please, please let me come,” you begged between his feverish kisses.

Hongjoong didn’t relent with his tongue teasing and pulled away long enough to threaten, “You will. Over and over and over.”

Something told you there was a catch. You were an unwanted guest on his ship, even more, you were there to end his life. Hongjoong was very much embedded in the world where it was eat or be eaten. He wasn't above punishment; no matter how passionate he was in this moment.

“Stowaway,” Hongjoong hissed, almost menacingly in your ear. “Earlier when I noticed I had a guest, I watched you. I fantasized about the way you would come when I’m inside you. I want you to scream and beg and cry. If you pass out, I might be satisfied. But I’ll wake you up with my face between your thighs to fuck you again.” He smiled wickedly, devilish. It made you want him more. No amount of money in the world could stop you from begging for him. You met your match.

“Hongjoong,” You started, helpless and turned on to the point you wanted to devour this man until nothing was left of him.

“I want you wrecked. I want you shaking. Then, I’ll be okay with the fact you snuck your ass on my ship,” He bit off the final words, smiling smugly.

“That seems… fair,” You choked, blinking at him in reverence.

“I thought so too,” he replied blithely. Then, something else flashed in his eyes and he said, “Now, undress me.”

Breaking from his gaze, you turned your attention to his leather pants, the ones you fumbled with earlier, finally freeing his length from the wretched material. The moment his pants were pooled around his ankles, Hongjoong grabbed your arms, commanding you up to his level.

Arms around his head, you kissed him with all you had, his bed squeaked underneath you and you panted for breath, on your back and gazing up at him in time to watch Hongjoong grab your ankles and pull your hips to the very edge of the bed.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he purred in wonder, licking his lips while reaching across your body to grab and squeeze a breast.

You snatched his hand, bringing it to your mouth and kissing your way along his knuckles, tugging him toward you until you could brand your tongue across his wrist, lingering over the prominent veins. You do your best to hold eye contact, feeling more and more arousal pooling between your thighs , with the fire in his gaze, your attention inevitably shifted to his cock.

Hongjoong noticed where your stare had drifted. He glanced down before returning to you and lifting an eyebrow in amusement.

“Is that what you want?” he asked sheepishly.

Still sucking on his wrist, you nodded excitedly.

Hongjoong freed his hand from you before leaning down to press a quick, affectionate kiss on your lips. You attempted to grab his firm biceps but in a flash, he was standing up again, grabbing your legs and holding them up on opposite sides of his hips.

His teeth sank deeply into his bottom lip as he rocked forward, sliding his length back and forth against your entrance, occasionally rubbing along your clit and sending a jolt through your body.

“Please, please, please,” you begged helplessly, staring up at him in worship.

Hongjoong chuckled darkly, chest heaving up and down with every ragged, hard breath he took. “God, you’re so wet,” he sighed, closing his eyes briefly to etch this in his memory.

“Damn it,” You whimpered, wringing your fists in the blankets as you waited.

Hongjoong grinned from ear to ear, clearly getting off on your suffering. Then, he grabbed your knees and guided them high on his waist. You clamped down on his ribs and reached for him just as he lowered down and propped his elbows along your head.

The tip of his cock pressed to your entrance and you braced yourself, clutching his arms tightly as he slowly moved forward. You threw your head back and cried out, feeling him fill you up so perfectly it was like he alone was meant to be there.

Hongjoong drowned you in kisses, making his way across your jaw and throat. “Easy, Stowaway,” he whispered in your ear, still bringing his hips closer into yours.

He finally bottomed out and you could breathe again, letting a swear word slip at the snug fit of him deep inside you.

“Good,” he coaxed, thrusting slowly and shallowly while studying your reaction. “Cry for me.”

His voice was sinful, low and harsh. The way he could shift between soft and hard in the blink of an eye, it was driving you crazy.

“Fuck me, Captain,” You rasped, lacing your fingers behind his neck and keeping his forehead pressed to yours.

Hongjoong then flashed a devious smile and raked his tongue across his teeth before shaking his head and teasing, “ I don’t want it to end.” Then, he kissed the corner of your mouth and said, “I’m taking my sweet time with you. Maybe you’ll stay here forever. Become mine and wait for me each day.”

You played the one card you had. Smirking back at him, you crossed your ankles behind his lower back and flexed with all your might, forcing the muscles in your core to tighten and massage his cock.

His lips parted, a choked off breath hanging in his mouth at your tactic. Meanwhile, you kept his head in your possession while you flexed and released again and again, enjoying the way his pupils dilated further before his eyes rolled back.

“That’s it,” Hongjoong sighed, biting his lip and rocking his hips slightly against yours as you continued to pleasure him.

Hongjoong braced his hands on opposite sides of your head and drew his pelvis back before giving you a long, hard thrust that you could feel in the pit of your stomach. He wasn’t kidding when he threatened to be slow.

“Captain,” you whimpered, clinging to him roughly as he did it again. This was torture and you were starting to realize that was his intent.

One drawn out thrust after the other, Hongjoong hovered above you with his eyes closed, letting out quiet, little moans at the warmth and tightness. Your fingers abandoned his neck in favor of his arms, scratching his flesh with your nails as a warning.

“Do you want me to beg?” You suddenly groaned. “I’ll beg all night, if you wish.”

Hongjoong peeked his eyes open and whispered, “I’m listening.”

“Please,Hongjoong. Harder, faster, please,” You mewled, all the while jolting in place when his hips smacked into yours.

The captain’s gaze drifted from your face to your breasts, watching them shudder with each hard thrust, and he grinned with delight. “You call that begging?” he teased.

You grumbled, sinking your nails into his shoulders and listening to him hiss through gritted teeth. “Fuck me, Captain Hongjoong,” you growled at him, reaching up and grabbing his jaw with a shaky hand. “Fuck me. Take me for all I have. You’re good at that, taking from others. You filthy fucking pirate.”

“Am I?” Hongjoong questioned with a raised eyebrow and failing to hide just how aroused and amused he was by your pleas and digs.

“So good,” you moaned, panting for effect.

Hongjoong tilted his head playfully before sliding his arms under your shoulders, all the while still rolling his hips and sinking his cock into you at a glacial speed. His fingers found your hair, tangling and winding with no room for error, and he sharply tugged, making you cry out in surprise. Forcing your head up, Hongjoong pressed your heads together and rumbled, “Watch.”

You gulped, realizing if you glanced past his face, you could see where your bodies connected. “H-Hongjoong,” you started.

“Watch me fucking take you,” he said sternly. “Watch me take what’s mine. Like the pirate you say I am.”

His voice had dropped to an animalistic growl and you shivered in his grasp. You held his biceps, bruising him with your fingertips as he finally sped up to a steady pace of in and out.

Pitiful whimpers fell from your lips while you did as told and kept your eyes on his length sliding in and out of you. His defined abdominal muscles flexed with every shift and your thighs trembled at each impact of his hips.

“Spread your legs more,” Hongjoong ordered, winching his eyes closed again while yours were blown wide open. You obeyed without a thought, holding your legs out at his sides and giving him more room to get even deeper inside.

“Fuck,” You choked, tipping your head back as the air snatched out of your chest.

Hongjoong instantly pinched your hair, yanking you back despite your outcries of protest. As you moaned and watched him rut his length in you, Hongjoong hissed, “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” you answered immediately. You were truly now drawn to him, forget the money.

“Convince me.”

“I belong to you. No one else,” you screamed in desperation, snaking your fingers up and down his back.

The egotistical bastard smiled down at you before dark fire flashed in his eyes and his hand suddenly took hold of your throat, putting subdued pressure on your throat. Out of sheer instinct, you grabbed his wrist with both hands, no sounds making it out of your mouth as they were trapped in my lungs.

“You gonna come, Stowaway?”Hongjoong crooned, tilting his head as held you.

You nodded as best as you could against his iron grasp.

“I feel you clamping on me. You’re so close, aren’t you?” he teased further, stroking you toward a climax that you sorely needed.

He was saying and doing all the right things. Any second, you were going to explode beyond repair. Feeling the tell-tale prickling down your legs, you released his wrist and dropped your hands to your sides, completely submissive.

That triggered him to make his thrusts harsher, but still fluid, working his hips between your legs as you squirmed beneath him. Your hands fisted in the sheets, tearing at them with a vengeance.

“Stay still, little stowaway,” he coaxed, kissing the corner of your gaping mouth. “I got you.”

You tried to shake your head. Your vision was pulsing. Your ears were pounding.

Hongjoong hit the right spot again and the pleasure overflowed into a buzzing orgasm. As your spine arched, Hongjoong released your throat and slowed the movements of his length within your walls as you pulsated around him. Instantly, you gasped for air and your entire body thrummed.

“Oh, fuck,” you managed to cry out, eyes pressed closed while your head tipped backwards into his bed.

Hongjoong merely stared at your bliss and continued to rock into you leisurely, all too pleased with what he could do to you that no one else ever could. Sweat beaded across your faces and your muscles trembled with the effort.

Hongjoong snickered sinfully and teased, “I’m not done with you.”

Nodding, you lifted your head and smiled, breathing rapidly as he leaned down to kiss you sweetly.

“Let me ride you,” you whispered, insistent.

Hongjoong wrinkled his nose and shook his head with a smirk.

“Let me ride you,” you pressed, pushing at his shoulders and giving him the most innocent expression you could muster, he made you want to be fragile.

He melted and grabbed your hips, keeping his length inside you as he switched your positions. Straddling his lap, you braced your hands on his chest and made a few tentative rolls of your hips to gauge his reaction. He pinched his lips together to hide a groan and squeezed your ass with his hands.

“Listen to how wet I am,” you told him smugly, lifting yourself up and down on his length.

Hongjoong finally released the breath he had been holding and hissed a low, “Fucking Stowaway.”

“You do that to me,” you reminded, grabbing his hands and bringing them to your bouncing breasts. He palmed your flesh, kneading and pushing them together with pleasure as you rode him. Having your fill of that, you grabbed his wrists and pinned his hands alongside his head, bringing your mouth to his neck and proceeding to suck an obvious bruise in his skin.

“Subtle,” he quipped shakily, ever so slightly lifting his hips to meet yours on a downward arc.

“Usually is my strong suit except when it comes to you,” you retorted, tonguing at the mark before making it even more defined. Pleased with your handiwork, you sat back up and picked up the pace on his cock, adding, “I want everyone to know you’re spoken for. Your bounty is mine.”

“Is that so?” Hongjoong choked, gritting his teeth as you pushed him closer to his end.

You nodded, arrogantly. He wasn’t the only one who got off on power. You were two of a kind.

“Then stay with me,” Hongjoong suddenly confessed, eyes softening.

You glanced down at him, confused for the moment.

“Stay here with me, each day. Throw whatever dull shit is waiting for you away.” Hongjoong continued, harsher.

That took you aback and sent a lingering pain through your chest. You came to a dead stop, resting your hands on his toned body for balance. Your eyes burned and you realized it was from the threat of tears. You looked weak.

“What does that mean?” you asked timidly.

Hongjoong wasn’t having that and he was quick to snap, “There’s no other reason you came to kill me besides you have nothing else to live for.”

That tone was damaging,but he wasn’t wrong. He wanted you.

Hongjoong sat up and locked his firm arms around your waist, keeping you in his lap while he held tight.

“Hongjoong,” you whimpered, clinging to him while you rested your head on his shoulder, hiding your face in shame against his neck.

Hongjoong leaned his head on to yours, your sweat mingling, before thrusting upward and earning a cry of pleasure. You crossed your legs around him, trapping him inside you as you both moved your hips in a decadent rhythm. Your lips found his flesh and you kissed him with affection. He bruised your waist and hips in his grasp while little grunts and moans fell from his lips.

“Will you stay?” he stammered, a heartbeat away from losing it.

Your cheeks brushing, and said, “I haven’t decided.”

Steering your movements with his hands, you hissed at the pinch of his grasp on your thighs. Your fingers threaded through his messy fawn colored hair and you tugged.

Listening to him pant and whimper was ultimately your undoing. Your legs shook uncontrollably as they clamped on his hips and you roared his name as your voice broke, quickly reaching down to grab the sheets instead of ripping out his hair.

At the height of your pleasure, Hongjoong finished with a gasp and wrapped his arms around your waist, squeezing him hard as his cock swelled within your core. You hit your peak and finally took a labored breath, feeling his hot release inside you.

You relaxed in his hold, resting all of your weight on him and confident that he could support you. Cheek on his shoulder, you closed your eyes and waited for the sensitivity to fade.

It felt like eternity before you finally thought about moving. Hongjoong peppered kisses on your neck and jaw, caressing your sides as he turned, lowering you to the bed on your back. When he pulled his length from you at last, you hissed at the loss of him.

The feathered mattress dipped at your side when Hongjoong curled up next to you, draping an arm across your waist as he pressed his lips to your cheek.

“Made a decision, Stowaway? ” he asked a moment later.

You could hear the sensitivity in his voice despite the dig and thoughtfully replied, “Yes.”

“Tell me,” he pressed, his gaze trying to be nonchalant but failing.

“I’ll be expecting a long list of demands from you.”

[itsthatpearl]

Layout idea from @secret-smut-sideblog 🩸

Previous chapter

Astarion x F!OC

Dawn of Love

Chapter 2: Destroy Everything You Touch

AO3 LINK

Aura meets her pale companion in the pale moonlight (re-telling of the Tiefling party and the first romance scene)

Word count: 1.6k

Thank you Janna for beta reading <3

TRIGGERS: PinV sex, blood, kissing, vampire bites, restraining, fingering, oral sex (F!receiving), sexual tension, angst, ptsd.

----

The tiefling camp was full of happy companions chatting and drinking. The raid to goblin camp had been challenging, but now we had a new member in our tiny group, a druid named Halsin. Astarion returned early in the morning and during the day he had been normal, as if nothing had happened last night between us. I tried to push everything aside during the battle, but it was hard. 

I was sitting alone watching two Tieflings kiss happily next to Gale, who tried to ignore it and talk with Lae’zel. I could see the githyanki was unable to distract him from the two lovers. 

Great. I felt everything Gale was feeling. The weird feeling of a crush had crept into my heart. I was falling hard for the vampire rogue, who just abandoned me last night after I was an idiot and decided to scare him away.

Suddenly I felt the air get a bit colder right next to my arm. I looked at the silver haired rogue as he handed me his bottle of wine.

“It’s quite boring in here. I see you have been trying to look at Gale who is trying to look at Lae’zel so you wouldn't notice the two tieflings getting ready to make more tiny tieflings” he chuckled. 

I took a huge gulp from the wine bottle. I am not enough drunk for this. 

“So what have you been doing then?” I stared at Lae’zel who had noticed the couple now too and looked disgusted.

“I’ve been looking for a little more excitement. A little more fun.” I didn’t even have to see his face to know he had that stupid grin on his face.

���And what's your idea of a ‘little fun’ if I may ask” I took another gulp from the wine bottle.

“By the hells. Sex, my dear. A night of passion” and the wine went straight to the wrong pipe. I coughed hard and looked at him shocked.

“With who?!” I asked maybe a bit too quickly. 

He looked at me and laughed out loud. Prick.

“I thought you were already waiting for it?” he flashed a smile enough to kill.

I looked at him in silence. Was he kidding?

“I just…thought….” I started to mutter but he was quicker.

“Once everyone else is asleep, I’ll be waiting at the clearance in the woods” he smirked and took the wine bottle from my hand and gestured at the tiefling couple that had gone from kissing to actually something I wouldn't do in front of anyone. “Enjoy the show”.

What the fuck am I doing. I looked at the clearance in front of me. I am insane.

Suddenly a pale creature appeared through the bushes. He isn’t wearing a shirt. I could feel something stir inside me.

“There you are. I’ve been waiting. Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you” he purred. 

I suddenly felt how dry my mouth went. It had been hanging open. I closed it and wished he didn't notice it but he was already walking closer with that stupid grin so slowly, almost like a predator to it’s pray.

“You don’t have me yet” I said as bravely as I could. I am still winning here.

“Don’t I? You’re here. And I don’t think you want to talk. I think you want to be known. To be tasted”.

If I wasn’t soaking wet before, that finished the job. No NO this man just abandoned me yesterday after things got somewhere. 

“And what do you want?” I said, raising a brow.

For a moment the vampire in front of me looked like I had spoken in some foreign language thinking he would understand it. Then the smirk came back in.

“What do any of us want?” he tilted his head to the side.

I shrugged.

“Pleasure” he straightened his posture.

Shivers ran down my spine.

“Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy” he closed the distance between us. 

As his arms wrapped around my waist and lower back, all I could do was bite my lip and look into his eyes. It was almost like he had put a spell on me. I was utterly helpless in his arms.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? To lose yourself in me” he purred into my ear.

A soft moan escaped my lips. He was too good.

“Y-yes” I gasped before his lips devoured mine. And there we were again. Lips moving bruisingly hard as he started to remove my tunic. 

I felt the chilling breeze brush over my nipples as the night air met my skin. Astarion had a satisfied smile on as he lifted me up and pushed onto a tree. “May I?” he whispered into my neck.

“Yes” I answered.

He bit down onto my neck and took a long gulp. I bit my lip to stop myself from moaning loudly. Our camp wasn’t far away, and I was sure if I made enough noise I would hear about it tomorrow during breakfast.

He moved from drinking my blood down to kissing my collarbone. I closed my eyes and smiled. 

Then I felt a sting in my nipple. I looked down and saw Astarion grinning and licking the tiny drop of blood he had drawn from me. Asshole. I couldn’t help but grin back. 

Then he laid me down on the meadow. The cold ground welcomed the bare skin of my back. Astarion started to remove my leggings. I looked at his hands and took a deep breath.

“What is it?” he stopped and looked at me.

“It’s just…I haven’t…” I sat up but he was once again a step ahead.

“You haven’t had sex before?” he asked, a bit shocked.

“NO! No, I mean, I HAVE had sex before. It just…it was over 150 years ago. And…only once” I shrugged.

I could swear Astarion hesitated for a tiny moment but he moved up and smiled, kissing my lips softly.

“Then relax and enjoy” he said quietly.

I blinked a few times. Was this really happening? I nodded and laid back down.

He removed the rest of my clothes and smiled. 

“You are beautiful” he purred. 

I blushed and looked away. 

“Tut tut, eyes on me, darling” he tutted. 

I looked at him mouth wide open. He is too good.

He returned to kiss my lips. I could feel my muscles relax under him. He started to slowly kiss down my body until he reached the end of his destination. He lapped his tongue across my folds and all I could do was tilt my head back and moan.

After 150 years I sure didn’t remember it felt like this. I bucked my hips to meet his agonizingly slow tongue. Then he started to suck the little nub of nerves, which made my eyes roll into the back of my head.

“Gods, Astarion” I gasped as my hand flew to grip his hair.

“You are doing so well” he purred in between sucking.

I felt his fingers starting to outline my folds before he pushed two of them inside. I bit my lip as hard as I could. His tongue sucked and lapped faster than I thought anyone could while he pumped his fingers curling them deliciously into just the right spot. I was not going to last long.

“Hells below” I moaned. I glared at the white haired elf in between my legs looking at me with his lustful eyes that shined like two giant red rubies. 

A déjà vu.

Then my climax hit me like never before. I moaned loud enough to the whole forest to hear, legs shaking. Astarion slowed down his movements and lapped the hot gush of fluids that dripped down my thigh.

“Delicious” he whispered as he stood up to remove his breeches. I propped myself up on my elbows and tried my best to steady my breathing. He was gorgeous. His pale skin glistened in the moonlight as he slowly stroked himself.

I smiled panting. Astarion returned the warmth of my skin and kissed me while he pushed himself inside me inch by inch. I groaned, biting my lip. After a moment he was fully inside and started slowly thrusting into me. Soon the chilling night air was filled with silent moans and slick skin slapping into each other. 

I moved my hand to touch his chest. It was supposed to be cold, but the warmth of my own chest had radiated its heat onto his. I dragged my fingers across his chest back to his shoulders and from there to his back where his smooth silken skin turned into bumps and ridges. I had forgotten it. 

Astarions hands flew to grab mine and ping them above my head as he fucked me harder.

“I told you I wanted you to enjoy this” he purred into my ear and nipped the lobe.

I gasped and tried to stay in my senses.

“I thought I’d-” I started to say in between gasps before Astarion devoured my lips and sped up his pace.

“Shh, quiet, or I won’t let you finish you cheeky little-” he purred before slamming even harder into me.

I moaned loudly as I felt my body starting to give up under him.

“Bite me” I tilted my head back whispering. I could feel his lips twist into a smile when he moved them on my neck bit down drinking eagerly. 

It didn’t need more than two deliciously perfect pushes until we both tumbled into a shared climax. After a few moments of panting Astarion let go of my hands and laid down on his back next to me.

I looked at him and opened my mouth to say something but closed it. Don’t ruin this.

Instead I turned and wrapped my arm around him burying my face into his side. I could feel him tensing his muscles, but after a few minutes I felt his arm wrap around me and him relaxing. I fell asleep listening to my own heart beat, because his wasn’t beating.

[becoration]

How to create a romantic dream garden - Interior decoration

Post has been published on becoration

How to create a romantic dream garden - Interior decoration

Creating a romantic and dreamy garden can be a beautiful and rewarding experience. This style of garden typically has gently flowing plants, delicate flowers, and a sense of tranquility. Whether you want to create a soothing outdoor oasis, a space for peaceful reflection, or to enjoy with your friends and family, a romantic garden is the perfect choice.

To start, you will need to take care of some basic components. The first step is to decide where the garden will be located and what you want from it. It’s important to consider the amount of time you are willing to dedicate to your garden.

If you don’t have time for regular maintenance, you may prefer low-maintenance plants. Also consider the type of soil, amount of sunlight, and hours of the day the garden will receive. Lastly, find out if you will need a fence or hedge, and what type of plants will blend well with the surroundings.

Ideas for creating a romantic garden

Choosing the perfect plants

One of the most exciting things about creating a romantic and dreamy garden is selecting the right plants for your space. There are many beautiful plants to choose from, from low-maintenance flowering shrubs to ornate and fragrant roses. For a romantic garden, choose soft, delicate, sweet-smelling plants in a range of colors. Opt for plants with various shades of green to add depth and texture.

Consider the type of soil and amount of sunlight the chosen plants will receive. If the soil is dry or sunlight is scarce, choose drought-resistant plants or shade lovers. Also consider if the plants will be invasive. You don’t want a pretty plant to take over your garden and become a headache.

Creating the design

The design of your romantic dream garden is where your artistic talent comes into play. Consider creating the garden with a natural and fluid shape, with curves and corners that attract the eye and create interest. The arrangement of the garden should be in line with the overall style and theme you aim for. Consider the color and texture of each plant and how they will combine to create a cohesive look.

It’s important to space the plants well. Make sure to place the larger plants at the back of the garden and the smaller ones at the front. This will help maintain a sense of balance and order. Create multiple layers of texture and repetition to give your garden an ethereal quality.

Attention to detail

Once you have designed the layout and chosen the plants, it’s time to add some special touches. Elements like unique rocks, statues, ambient lighting, and a flowing water feature contribute to creating a sense of romance and mystery. Use these elements to add depth to your garden and create a truly unique and personal space.

Pay attention to the small details. Use curved pathways, ornate benches, and unique steps to add a special touch of whimsy to your garden. Add fragrances to your garden with aromatic plants and flowers, and consider using soft pastel colors to create a calming atmosphere.

Gates or Gateways

Installing a gate or gateway is a great accessory to give a touch to the romantic garden. The best option for this case is to choose them in a Victorian style, or a gate from the 60s in iron. You can buy them at an antique store or search on Google for “vintage doors” and you will get many results, also in auctions on eBay. It’s the ideal touch you need to add to that garden style.

Incorporate a bench

It’s important to consider the placement of the plants, which can indicate a path to a bench that is at rest, peaceful, where you can sit, escape reality, and enjoy the unmatched beauty of the landscape.

You can place some stones decorating the area, plant herbs like thyme or lavender that have the ideal aroma to stimulate the senses. Try to leave open spaces so that the moonlight can enter, place white flowers so they can reflect and shine under the silver light.

Final words…

Creating a romantic and dreamy garden is a beautiful idea, and it can be an incredibly fun and rewarding experience. Remember that there are no limits, your imagination and creativity can design the garden of your dreams. When choosing the perfect plants, make sure to consider the type of soil and light your plants will receive, and adapt them to the environment around them.

Add special touches to give your garden a truly unique look and feel. Creating a romantic garden can transform your outdoor space into a peaceful, soothing, and beautiful place to dream.

Photos: Pixabay and Unsplash.

Referrer: Opendeco, decoration news in Spanish

[jisoopaint]

Raphael (Moonlight Lovers) icons𓈒 𓈒 𓈒

like ♡ or reblog ↺ if you save / use ࣪𖦆˓🥛

120x120 (spirit fanfics)

other gallerys: @shineicone @fire-loser @heevil @liwony @yconsmalu @orbweit @i-uranus @gaiaxia @fromvsk @enteezstuff

[crowstormx]

hi again! can you do headers for moonlight lovers raphael, please? thank you <3

here! <3

[sallysigns]

BELIATH LAYOUTS

Like or reblog if u use/save

[teamurders]

🌙

[gio-shinex]

that's our destiny, see?

[c6lumbna]

could you please make aaronn from moonlight lovers (game) layouts? thank you in advance!

sure sure baby!

[layothvr]

hi 💕

site models icons + taylor swift headers

like or reblog :)

twitter: @easydelicate

[amysteriousmessenger]

‘Crucified’ - Savior Saeran x Reader NSFW 18+ Reader Insert

Title: Crucified 

Paring: Savior Saeran Choi x Implied Female Reader 

Wordcount: 8K

Rating: 18+

Tags: church sex, altar sex, oral sex, wax play, just a whole lot of blasphemy

Based on: ‘Crucified’ by Army of Lovers - Youtube Link 

A sharp knock came at your door. It was almost midnight, and you’d already showered and gotten into bed for the evening, so you didn’t understand who would be needing your attention so late. Part of you wanted to ignore the knocking and pretend you couldn’t hear it through your sleep, but you knew that there was a good chance that whoever was knocking wouldn’t leave until they had gotten your attention. So, you sighed and pulled your long dressing gown on and wrapped it tightly around your body since you didn’t know who might be at the door at such a hour. You opened it to find two Believers who introduced themselves by Believer number and greeted you with ‘For Paradise.’

‘The Savior wants you in the Chapel. We have been sent to escort you there.’ They shifted uncomfortably.

You squinted, scrutinising them slightly, ‘At this time?’

While it wasn’t uncommon to be summoned or woken up at any hour of the night, you were always tentative to leave your room after dark since Magenta was so large and was, strategically, built like a maze. You were always too worried about getting lost on your way around. The only place you could feasibly find your way to and from after dark was the gardens since you no longer had Ray as an escort around the rest of the building. A small, sad voice echoed in your head, correcting yourself that you no longer had Ray at all.

‘We are not ones to question orders from The Savior. We were told to deliver this to you.’ The hooded Believer handed the wrapped item to you.

The Believers knocked once again on your door, telling you that The Savior had told them to bring you promptly, so you hurried yourself out of the room and into the corridor. Somehow, you hadn’t noticed the heavy rain from inside your room but it seemed to be thrashing violently against the windows along the winding corridors towards the chapel, and was amplified by the silence of the Believers that escorted you. Briefly, you considered asking whether they knew why The Savior had wanted to see you at such a time but figured that they wouldn’t tell you the truth even if they did know so it would be pointless to try. After all, who would willingly walk to their own Cleansing? They wouldn’t have wanted to have made their own jobs more difficult by having you put up a fight.

You were slightly confused and held the item out of view behind the door as you opened it, ‘Right. Allow me a moment to change into this.’ They nodded and you closed the door. Turning on the light, you quickly unwrapped the item in its entirety; It was a short, black chemise. For a moment, you looked at it in surprise. This was… unusual. You ran your fingers over the fabric, until your heart raced at the realisation that perhaps you were being taken for a Cleansing. You wracked your brain for any instance where you might have upset The Savior without realising, but none immediately came to mind. You knew the Savior had the tendency to never talk about the forwarding intentions of Mint Eye, so everyone was almost perpetually on edge. You changed quickly and placed your dressing down back over your shoulders, wrapping it tightly once again. You didn’t know how long you were going to be out, and the Chapel was always cold, especially after the sun had gone down. You knew you needed to look presentable, as it was customary for Believers to either never show their face in front of The Savior, or if they were permitted to be seen; made sure they looked their absolute best as to not displease the higher ups.

               With that in mind, you raced into your bathroom to spray yourself with some perfume that Ray had once given you, gargle some mouthwash and roughly drag a brush through your hair. As you put on a pair of slip-on shoes, you couldn’t fight the anxiety that had started to bubble in your chest, even though you knew that there was no use in dwelling on it before knowing either way. And yet, you had seen how The Savior had treated other Believers for their wrongdoings, and while you wanted to believe that you were different, believe in the history that the two of you shared, you were still scared. Perhaps it was because of that history, that bond, that was the cause of your summons.

The Chapel had been built slightly to the side of the main Magenta building, so you had to go outside to get to it. Luckily, there was a shelter that ran all the way along towards the Chapel entrance, so you didn’t get wet, but the wind was enough to rob you of the remaining heat that the anxiety had been merciful enough to leave you with. By the time you stood at the Chapel door, you had been chilled to the bones. The Believers bowed slightly towards you, bidding you farewell with a ‘For Paradise’ before leaving you alone to face your apparent penance.

You knocked meekly.

‘Enter.’ The deep voice commanded from within, making your heart skip a beat. Your hands were pressed against the wooden door, but you struggled to find the strength to open them. You hadn’t seen him in so long, the man you saw walking around Mint Eye, who looked through people as though he didn’t see them, was barely a remnant of the man you loved. You knew better than to keep him waiting and pressed yourself into the door and let it close behind you.

The heavy scent of incense and candles were the first thing to hit you when you closed the door, it was almost intoxicating by nature. Despite the Chapel being a newer addition to the grounds, it was somewhat remarkable that it already smelled like an aged church, you felt like you could smell the history that had never been occurred there. During the day, it was usually only illuminated by natural lighting and after the sun went down, they relied on candlelight and the moon for visibility. You heard him move, but dare not lift your gaze.

‘F-For Paradise.’ You stuttered, bowing your head slightly to look at the ground. Had you always been so nervous to see him? Everything was so different now, but it could not be denied that he was the one who personally summoned you to the Chapel at this time of night.

‘For Paradise.’ Saeran replied, ‘Do you know why I’ve summoned you?’ His voice echoed in the dark, small Chapel. Your heart stopped at hearing him speak, you couldn’t even remember the last time that he had directly addressed you. You looked up towards the other end of the small hall to where he was standing, in all of his Savior attire. He stood at the base of the steps before an altar, surrounded by dozens of lit candelabras, the small orange flames were almost enough to cast come colour into his cheeks. Almost. Suddenly, your heart was in your throat and it took you a few seconds to find your words. You couldn’t even process how much you had missed him, how much you had craved for the future that you had hoped to have together in another life.

‘Am I here to be cleansed?’ The words came out as barely a whisper, but he heard nonetheless. You had barely spoken to Saeran since he had become Mint Eye’s Savior, you hadn’t been permitted to request an audience and he had never made a personal visit. He was distant from everyone, cold and composed. It was as though he was imitating Rika, imitating what he thought he should be doing in this new role. He walked throughout Mint Eye as though he didn’t see anyone, even if you passed him, he’d never looked at you. He usually carried himself with an elevated, yet undeniably melancholic presence that was not easy for people to approach. They feared in him the same way that they had once feared Rika, with the added knowledge that Saeran was more experienced with Cleansing rituals. Whereas Rika would only witness and conduct them, Saeran was the one to carry them out.

‘Of sorts. You’ve been brought here to make a confession first. Kneel.’ He turned to you, slowly raising one arm to his side to gesture where he wanted you to place yourself. It was difficult to convince your legs to move, they were leaden with fear. A confession? What had you done that you needed to confess for? And… ‘first’? What did that mean would be coming afterwards and-

‘Come.’ The voice commanded, slightly sterner this time, reflecting a certain degree of the coldness he exhibited walking around Magenta. You gasped, looking up into his face. He, however, was looking away.

You pulled your nightdress around you as you walked between the Chapel pews towards the altar where Saeran was standing. The floor was marble with a singular, dark red carpet running along the centre with the moonlight shining small reflections of colour through the stained-glass window. You glanced up at Saeran as you walked, trying to read his reaction, but he gave nothing away to you. He was a ghost, the ghost of the man you loved.

‘Kneel.’ He said as you dropped to your knees before him. You knew that the Mint Eye beliefs had been steeped in Catholicism, since the previous Savior was a devout believer and there were rumours that the current one before you had been living in a Cathedral prior to coming to Magenta. The religious elements that became core beliefs in Mint Eye were evident throughout both Chapel and practices. It was set up with the same small layout of a church, and while there were no melodic hymns, there were prayers and chants to be memorised and recited, ‘For Paradise’. Saeran even wore a teal cross on his robes, there were other smaller mental crosses littered around the Chapel too. Believers were taught to worship the Savior as though they were a God themselves, as for all intents and purposes, they were akin to one. The dark oak altar was ornate and decorative, adorned with candles and goblets and a matching marble top.

You clasped your hands together in a prayer-like gesture as he told you to and stared down onto the floor with your hands stretched out in front of you. You watched as his robes shift as he turned to you, and a part of you was worried that he was going to hear the thud of your heart echoing throughout the dark building. Suddenly, his hand came into your view, and placed two fingers underneath your chin to tilt your head up to meet his icy gaze.

‘I want to see your eyes when you’re confessing yourself to me. I’ll know if you’re lying.’ He said, removing his fingers. You swallowed, desperate to shudder from the touch but finding yourself unable to move. That was the first time he’d touched you in so long, since long before he became this. You had forgotten how much you had missed his touch and found yourself almost wishing that you had leaned into his hand.

‘Wha- What should I be confessing?’

‘I think we both know.’ He replied from above, his eyes were cruel, never giving you a moment to even gather your thoughts. ‘Confess your feelings for me, for the man who you wanted me to be. Cry for your sweet Ray, mourn for your lost Saeran.’

‘I-I…’ You trailed off, before Saeran interjected with:

‘Would it help you if I acted like them?’ He asked, a slight sneer spreading over his features.

‘No, thank you.’ You muttered, trying to pull your eyes away. You looked down at your hands, knowing that you weren’t going to get out of this confession anytime soon if you didn’t cave in and admit it to him. Of course, Saeran already knew. He still had access to most of their memories, so he knew of the time you shared with each of them, but that was not the point of this confession. It was to taunt you.

‘From the moment this confession starts, every second will be one closer to being bound.’ Saeran turned, picking up one of the long, white pillar candles and titled it so that the wax started dripping onto your clasped hands. ‘Begin.’

One by one, the soft rolls of white wax splattered onto your skin. It felt like a timer of sorts, and in effect, you supposed it was. You weren’t even sure where you were supposed to start. In the months it had taken to adjust to the new Savior, you had already mourned for the boys that you had lost, and who they were about to become. You had spent many nights crying for what could have been and for what had gone wrong. You had suffered alone, and been forced to watch the man you love become someone he had struggled so hard to break free from. How were you supposed to say all of this in front of him? Of course, he already knew, but he clearly intended to hear it fall from your mouth like a litany of sins.

The wax began dripping freely over your fingers, seeping in between the lines of your hands and heating between your palms. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you could definitely feel the warmth of the wax melting into your bones. It seemed as though Saeran was about to provoke you to speak again, but you manage to find your voice on your own.

‘Ray-… he was precious. He was so scared.’ You continued to watch the candle drip onto your hands, ‘He was a sweet boy, who gave too much of himself to the wrong people. He was sensitive. Obsessive, even. He just wanted to feel loved in the same capacity that he was willing to love.’ You muttered, as the wax started to slip down your wrists. Saeran seemed to savour the last sentence you spoke, appearing to mull it over in his own mind before deciding the next course of action. It took him a few seconds but he finally asked;

‘And did you?’

‘Yes.’ But of course, he already knew that.

‘And? I’ve always thought him rather melancholic.’ Saeran replied from above, looking rather disinterested with what you had to say about Ray.

‘He just wanted to be happy.’ You replied, watching as Saeran reached for another candle. It hadn’t occurred to you that the wax was slowly sealing your hands together in a frozen prayer, until that moment. He lit the fresh candle off of the dying one and tilted it once more over your hands, cocking his head to one side.

‘So be it. Continue.’ He deadpanned.

You had to think again, Saeran had certainly been a lot. It had taken you even longer to process as, just when you thought there had been a solid hope for him to heal, his salvation had been snatched from his hands once more and poisoned. There had been a lot of times in Magenta that Saeran had scared you, or hurt you. His erratic nature would come at the expense of both of you, and it was only when he realised that he was damaging himself just as much as he was damaging you that the burning rage in his heart that begun to cool. He couldn’t swallow his anger, but he couldn’t stop it from dipping into Ray’s sadness, melding them together in a tragic oasis.

‘Saeran was… scared too, but he had to be scared for himself and for Ray…’ You took a deep breath, ‘He was violent and volatile. Saeran was unstable. Well, they both were, but in different ways. Saeran wanted to be happy too but he didn’t know how to be. Every time some form of happiness was hung in front of him, it was ripped away as soon as he tried to reach his hand out for it; so, after a while he just stopped trying.’

‘How very ‘Beauty and the Beast’ of you.’ He said, twirling the candle in an almost bored-like state.

‘You were the one who asked.’ You muttered, almost forgetting who you were speaking to before hurriedly adding a ‘Savior’ on the end. It was getting rather difficult to unclasp your hands under the thick layer of wax, it had started to cool and harden with the time it had taken to talk about the two lost boys. Saeran tutted, and even though the heavy sounds of the rain, it seemed to be an all-encompassing sound.

‘And Saeran? What about him?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Did you love him too?’ His face was a little bit different this time, yet you couldn’t figure out quite how. Saeran seemed a little bit more interested, but his face never indicated that you had piqued his interest. This Saeran was so visually cold that you weren’t sure how you should place your emotions in front of him. You had seen how quickly Ray had become Saeran, and you didn’t know who that Saeran had become. And yet, you could not lie.

‘…Yes.’

‘I see.’ He replied but said nothing else as he reached for another candle and began melting it once again. Part of you wanted to ask if the confession was over, but the more reasonable part of your brain said it was better to wait to be dismissed, since it was a Saeran that you did not know. The Chapel was silent aside from the sound of the weather hitting the stained glass and the gentle erythematic breathing coming from the both of you.

‘Have you come to an epiphany of me yet? Preach your findings to me.’ He pulled your face up to meet him once again. No matter the Saeran, his eyes were always the same. Wherever he went, whoever he was; he was doomed to carry that dejected gaze.

‘No… I haven’t.’ You muttered under your breath.

‘Disappointing.’

‘I’m sorry, t-this is the first time we’re meeting.’

‘First impressions then. Don’t keep me waiting.’ His voice was chilly again, clearly dissatisfied that you had yet to draw any conclusions about the man in front of you. You were slightly panicked over the fact that you needed to come up with something on the spot, especially at the risk of offending him. You noticed, in a similar moment, that you were no longer able to part your hands. The wax had solidified to the point where you could just about tense and untense your fingers inside of the warm encasing, but not enough to free them, not unless you put a bit of effort into it. You didn’t have time to consider it much longer, as Saeran’s insistent staring made it overtly apparent that he was impatiently awaiting your response.

‘You’re not…as cold as Saeran. But, you’re also not as optimistic as Ray. Forgive me but-’

‘Go on.’ He said.

‘It’s like you’re the melancholic combination of the two… it’s as though you took on the sadness of both of them and made it your own-’

He almost sighed; ‘So that’s what you think.’

‘I’m afraid that I do not know you very well, Saer- Savior.’ Immediately correcting yourself, you sharply bit at the inside if your own cheek for your error. He was silent. You lowered your hands so that they were just resting on your lap as you kneeled

‘I suppose… I could let you know me better…’ His voice dropped as his hand moved from under your chin, to hold you by the jaw, and lift your face up towards him. With his other hand, he grabbed the ornate goblet from on top of the altar and brought it to his own lips, drinking from it slightly. He kept you on your knees, but his movements were slow and purposeful. Saeran never took his eyes from you up until the last moment, waiting to see if you told him to stop. You didn’t. As you felt him place his lips on yours, you let your eyes flutter shut and a tear roll down either cheek. You felt the rush of a liquid flood into your mouth, it was sweet. You knew that Elixir was usually kept in that goblet, as you had seen it forced into people’s mouths during atonements, but this only tasted weakly of that bright blue poison, if at all. Despite your better judgement, you swallowed. You weren’t sure what provoked him to do it, but you thought you’d never get to feel the touch of Saeran’s kiss again. Even if this was to be the last one, you’d have to cherish it.

If you would have asked him why he kissed you in that moment, Saeran probably wouldn’t have told you. He didn’t want to explain that both Ray and Saeran were crying for you. How Ray wanted to hold you in his arms just once more time, how Saeran wanted to try accepting the affection you were so willing to offer him. Neither could stand to see the distance between you and the Saeran in front of you and implored him to do something about it. No, he could never admit that.

He broke the kiss first, and for a moment, he looked as though he was in pain. His hand fell from your face, reaching up to his head for a second as he winced. You wondered, briefly, if Ray and Saeran were both yelling at him in the same way that Ray told you of Saeran’s constant stream of complaints. He wasn’t coughing in the same way that he did whenever he drank the Elixir himself, confirming that what he had given you was not harmful. Even now, in this warped manner, he was trying to protect you in the same way that the other two had done.

In a second of uncharacteristic confidence, you chased his lips, standing to try and kiss him again. You almost stumbled into him in your eagerness. You had been so desperate to repress the feelings of hurt and abandonment in the last few months in the loss of him that you were willing to throw away your sense of anxiety if it meant just getting to be close to him once more. He didn’t move away, letting you kiss at his lips.

It took a few seconds for him to move his lips against yours, since this Saeran still only had the same amount of experience as the others. He made no grand gestures but responded to your touch in the same way that you responded to his. His lips were warmer than you remembered Ray’s being, and you hoped that meant that Saeran was looking after himself better, eating and sleeping as his body needed. He lifted his hand to cup your neck before slowly tracing his fingers to settle on the space between your jaw and neck.

He pulled back, but held onto you, just so he could look at you. You watched as his icy eyes glanced between yours, trying to decipher why you were so willingly still kissing him. He furrowed his brows slightly, as though trying to have a silent conversation with himself, before he kissed you again. This kiss was slightly rougher than the previous times, there was more force behind his lips. It felt emotional. His frozen persona was not melted, but there was a gentle warmth to his touch that reminded you of Ray. You wanted to hold him, to run your hands over his shoulders again like you had dreamt of doing for so long, but your hands remained encase in wax between the two of you. You didn’t want to push your luck, so you gently parted your lips and waited to see if he wanted to deepen the kiss himself. When you felt his tongue slightly touch your lower lip, you all but melted against him. A breath audibly hitched in your throat and seemed to give him a bit more confidence in what he was doing.

Without having your hands free to hold it closed, your dressing gown came undone and Saeran’s hand found its way inside and around your waist, pulling you against him without breaking the contact of the kiss. Your own hands were pressed against your chest in betwixt both bodies, just lightly only your heart which was racing violently.

It was only when the backs of your thighs touched the cold edge of the altar that you registered that you had been guided upwards. Saeran didn’t take his mouth off of you and gently pushed you by the hips. You had to trust had he was moving you properly because, with your hands sealed together in front of you, there was no way to stop yourself if you fell.

You felt somewhat exposed as your dressing gown became completely undone by the time you were ever-so-slightly leaning onto the side of the altar, the temptation to sit on top of the surface was overwhelming, especially after you had been kneeling for so long. As Saeran’s lips descended from your mouth and down along your jaw and tentatively onto your neck, you seized the opportunity to seat yourself on top of the altar, just enough to grant your legs some sanctuary. He cocked an eyebrow at you briefly, before resuming the kisses on your throat.

Now that you were sitting, it seemed too distant, too far away, so you parted your legs to allow him to mover closer once again by standing in between them. He didn’t address it, but quickly understood that you wanted him to fill the space and moved close enough that he was almost looming over you. His presence reminded you of Saeran, in-control and commanding, and yet very attentive. You were somewhat embarrassed by this newfound intimacy, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every single second of it. Part of you felt a sense of religious guilt for doing such things in a Chapel, supposedly under the eyes of God. And yet, it was with the very God of that Chapel that you were committing those sacrilegious acts with, so could it really be desecration of the Holy Ground if he permitted it?

He left small lovebites on your neck, moving down towards your collarbones and you tried to stifle a moan, fearing that it would echo through the building. You gasped at the sensation whenever his lips would attack a new part of your flesh, leaving you more and more sensitive with each passing moment.

‘They both wanted you like this.’ He whispered, almost huskily against your ear. You shuddered against him, immediately wanting more.

‘O-oh.’

‘They thought about it everyday.’ It felt so sinful to be doing something with a man dressed in religious garments, and yet you were entirely captivated by the sight of him.

‘You’re very honest.’ You mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks at his confession. Part of you couldn’t imagine sweet Ray, who stuttered over handing you a rose, would fantasise about something like this.

Saeran paused for a moment before adding: ‘I have no reason to lie about it.’

‘I see.’ You once told Saeran that he only wouldn’t look at you because Ray was in his eyes, but now you could see them both there, staring back at you at he spoke. The melancholy was undeniable, but so was the yearning.

As you moved your arms over Saeran’s shoulders, the motion caused the wax to break and fall off, allowing you to run your fingers through his hair. It was as soft as you remembered, and you could have cried at the feeling of it in your hands. While the Saeran was different, it was still him. There was something undeniably biblical about it, having broken that restraint.

‘Do you require a Cleansing?’ He asked, causing you to break off the kiss. Your heart was already racing from the heated atmosphere, but now it was thudding for a different reason. You looked at him tentatively, making sure you were on the same page.

‘C-cleansing?’

‘A different sort… than the ones conducted downstairs.’ He chose his words carefully, glancing down at the floor as though to emphasise his point, but without any indication as to what he actually meant.

‘What do you mean then?’

‘Intimately.’ Saeran replied.

‘Intimately?’

‘Together.’ He said. Oh. So, that’s how he’s phrasing it. It was only then that you realised how Saeran actually looked. He was panting ever so slightly, his hair dishevelled from there you had had your hands in it, even his long robes were slightly creased from where he had been leaning between your legs. It looked as though his body wanted this as badly as yours did.

You swallowed, ‘Together.’

He once again began kissing you, taking your lips with his as you started to become more and more turned on from his touch and the excitement of what was to come. It was evident that Saeran was also starting to feel the heat of the moment as he began pulling at your bottom lip slightly with his teeth, earning soft moans from you.

You felt him raise his hands to your shoulders and gently push you down so that your back was flat upon the marble altar top. Suddenly thankful for your black robe conserving the slightest bit of warmth as the coldness of the stone hit your back.

Saeran was leaning over you. He was still standing between your legs as they dangled off the side, but he was entirely over your torso and chest, causing his blue sash to dangle off of his shoulders on either side of your head. His mouth was on yours once again and his hands were on your side, your own arms were around his neck, pulling him closer. Not close enough. You had waited so long to touch him again, you thought you had lost him forever. You lifted your legs, wrapping them around the back of his thighs, almost making him fall on top of you. A small shiver of excitement shot down your spine as you heard his breath catch in his throat at your legs wrapping around him and it definitely spurred him on.

He took two fingers and put them under your chin and slowly, oh so slowly, traced them in a continuous line down your chest, in between your breasts and all the way down your abdomen, stopping just above where the line of your underwear was. Since you’d pulled him towards you with your legs, you could now feel the rise of his erection brushing against the side of your exposed inner thigh. You gasped.

‘Are you scared?’ He asked.

‘It’s… my first time.’

‘It’s my job to bring you to salvation.’ He told you, yet it seemed to be that he was saying that last sentence to himself more than he was to you. It was as though he had recited it a hundred times in a mirror and it just fell from his mouth without any real conviction to it.

‘I trust you.’ It was true. You did trust Saeran, against what would probably be your better judgement.

‘A poor decision.’ He replied, running his other hand up your thigh. You had never known Saeran to be so physically bold, so it somewhat took you by surprise that he was so readily touching you like this. It was truly the last thing you expected this evening. ‘You can tell me to stop if you don’t like it.’

‘I… I do.’ Again, it was true. He took it as a sign to continue, but as he looked into your eyes, you knew he was looking back on his time with you as Ray and Saeran, and how the two of you could never return to that time again. There was a hint of emotion that you could not even begin to unravel the meaning behind. This was the best that he could give you in his life of a melancholic penance. Perhaps this was the punishment for his crime of daring to hope: his act of contrition.

His kisses began following the same single line that his two fingers had followed, all the way down your chest. You held your breath as he passed in between your breasts, moving down towards the end of your abdomen. You sighed as you felt his hands grip themselves onto your thighs, tightly. Your sigh told him to continue and his cold hands found their way underneath the hem of your black nightdress, slowly removing your underwear and letting them fall off onto the floor beneath you. Part of you just couldn’t believe it was happening, but all of you did not want it to stop now. The lips that stuttered over your first meeting were now kissing their way up your inner thigh, occasionally biting at the soft, bare skin.

Saeran pushed his hands up onto your hips, to steady himself as he moved closer to you, his thumbs slightly digging into your flesh. You closed your eyes as you felt his tongue make contact with you, thankful that the angle of you flat on your back meant that he couldn’t see the hard blush smothering your cheeks. His tongue was soft and light; exploring each part of you to find which spots made you moan the most and then paying extra attention to it.

‘Sa-Savior…’ Your breath choked in your throat as his tongue brushed against every intimate part of you. He was tentative, but purposeful. All you could manage in response to his mouth was a moan and a few crying mewls, silently begging him.

He licked and sucked at your folds until you were all but whimpering atop the altar. You were so willingly coming undone under his hands, laid bare and exposed before the eyes of God despite not having taken off any of your clothing; it wasn’t necessary for this act of sin. You were embarrassed to look, but when you glanced your eyes down at him his powerful gaze was holding your own, deciphering every reaction you made. The intensity in his cool eyes caused the knot that had been slowly forming in your stomach to begin tightening more and more. You shuddered involuntarily at the sight as you felt the heat rush to your cheeks and hoped that you could just pass it off as the warmth spewing from so many candles. He must have seen how embarrassed you were at being watched, so after a few more seconds he closed his eyes. Once closed, Saeran changed the direction of his tongue and you threw your head back and choked out a cry from somewhere deep inside of your throat at the sensation.

You weren’t sure if time was passing slowly or if you were just that lost in the feeling of his mouth on you, but you were so numb to everything that wasn’t Saeran in that moment. You didn’t even realise that your hands had found their way into his pale hair until you were almost gripping him.

You’d had orgasms before, with a clumsy stumbling of your own fingers, but the intensity you felt in your abdomen was building and building with each passing second, with each passing graze of his tongue. You tried to warn him that you thought you were about to cum, but you guessed that he could probably tell from the performance you were giving. Your legs were twitching around him as soft cries fell free from your mouth, and you almost even thanked God for the experience. And part of you thought that, maybe, you should have.

You could feel that you were right on the edge, desperate to fall off. Your hands moved from Saeran’s head down to his shoulders, where you gripped his white and blue robes with fervour and tried to tell him that you were cumming, but it happened too quickly for you to gather your thoughts in any degree. The pressure in you suddenly snapped and you cried out for your Savior, for Saeran. He continued to fuck you with his mouth through your orgasm, as you moaned and sighed and gasped out for him. It was as close to a biblical enlightenment that you thought you were ever going to get. He touched you right up until the point of overstimulation with his hands on your hips stopped you from squirming away from him.

After a short while, he took his mouth off of you and you immediately mourned for the lost contact but was somewhat thankful for the chance to catch your breath. Or so you thought.

‘Are you ready for me to continue?’ He asked, wiping the spit from his chin with a single swipe of his thumb. His eyes were burning with more emotion than you had seen in him in a long, long time. You swallowed, nodding. Despite the fact Saeran hadn’t been touching himself, you could see the outline of his erection pushing through the fabric of his robes.

Lying there on the altar surrounded by candlelight, waiting to be taken, you felt somewhat sacrificial. What you were sacrificing, you weren’t sure, but you’d offer it up to him in a heartbeat if only he’d ask. You watched through half-lidded eyes as Saeran used one hand to unzip the bottom half of his robe and trousers, and the other slowly insert two fingers into you. You stifled a small moan at the pleasant intrusion and then failed to stifle further moans as he began moving his fingers inside of you, pressing up against your sweet spot. It continued like that for a minute for so while he began to lightly touch himself with his free hand.

‘I’ll… take you to salvation. I’ll save you.’ He said, almost sadly. You didn’t have time to question that slight melancholic tone in his voice before he pulled his fingers out of you, pulling you by the hips right to the edge of the altar. Saeran lined his cock up with your entrance and slowly pushed himself in, watching for any discomfort on your face. Since he had already taken the time to relax and prepare you, there wasn’t any pain except for a slight burn as you adjusted to the size of him filling you.

He waited for you to sigh in approval before he started moving, taking his time in thrusting in and out of you, and then again and again. You covered your face in embarrassment, knowing that he was watching your reactions from where he was standing. He took your wrists, pulling them off your face and brought them down to where he was holding your hips so that you couldn’t hide your face from him. He wanted to see, he wanted to see it all.

You closed your eyes, losing yourself to each thrust. You couldn’t believe that this was happening, and yet you had to. All of your senses were screaming that it was happening, and that it felt so good. Truly, you’d never be able to look at this Chapel the same way next time everyone was called to Sermon. You could hear Saeran’s sweet sighs filling the air. They were quiet and tentative, but most definitely present.

You arched your back as you dreamily opened your eyes, gazing up into the stained-glass window once again. The moonlight shone through the colourful glass, illuminating the rainbow of colours, and casting beautiful shades across Saeran’s face and robes. In a moment of lost bliss, your mind wandered to how beautiful Saeran looked painted in those colours, almost like he was a stained-glass portrait himself. Despite the myriad of shades tinting his skin, it never took away from the ice in his eyes. Saeran’s blue pierced through even a kaleidoscope of colour. You thought about uttering a prayer for him now, to thank someone, anyone, that he had returned to you: even in this manner. Before you managed to speak, Saeran’s words called your attention to him, the ghost of a sneer almost on his face. He could tell.

‘Were you about to pray for me? To pray for my damned soul?’ He asked while continuing to thrust into you at a godless speed. You struggled to speak for a few seconds, seeing as your body was so desperately calling all of your focus elsewhere. You didn’t even realise that you were staring into his face as he fucked you like this, waiting for your answer.

‘Do you wan-want me to?’ You tried to get the words out as he pounded into you again and again.

‘It’s too late… for that.’ He furrowed his brows, before picking up his speed once again, pulling you by the thighs to meet his thrusts. There was a slight amount of sweat beginning to glisten on his forehead and his panting was noticeably heavy as the tiredness was starting to creep up on him.

He shifted from his standing position to bending over you, so he could support himself on his forearms as he continued to bring you closer and closer to your apparent ‘Salvation’. You wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him know how much you needed him right then and there.

Saeran’s face was only a few inches from your own, his warm breath falling over you in waves as he moved. It was at this distance that he averted his eyes from you, clearly feeling some degree of embarrassment or shame. He leant down, as though to kiss you, but then buried his face into the crook of your neck instead. You cradled one arm around his head and the other sprawled across his back, just to make sure he knew you were there, for any of him, and all of him.

You bit your lip to quieten the moans falling from your mouth because you felt guilty about moaning right into his ear. As soon as he realised what you were doing, he left the crook of your neck and began hovering over you again, purposely thrusting harder than he was before:

‘I want to hear. Nothing can be hidden from me in this place.’ The voice that came from him was quiet, yet possessive. Of course, you would oblige. Not that you really had a choice seeing as his rhythm was almost merciless.

Another orgasm was coming at you hard and fast, the pressure in your abdomen building to the point of pain. You cried out his name in a string of prayers as you begged for him to keep going, you were so close and was desperate to finish. The sadistic streak in Saeran thoroughly relished in the sight of you coming utterly undone beneath him, but he knew that his own body could not savour the thrill for much longer as he was nearing his own climax too. He hadn’t previously commented on how tight you were, but you being so close had gotten to the point of nearly suffocating him.

He leant down and captured your lips in another kiss, a needy and desperate one. There were so many words he could have used to describe the way he felt when he kissed you, and yet there were none at all. It was intoxicating for him to be flooded with not only his emotions, but the rushed emotions of both Ray and Saeran too.

To his surprise, the kiss was what you needed to finish. You felt yourself finish so suddenly that all you could do was cry out, your voice echoing throughout the Chapel. Any Believers outside would have heard it, even through the sounds of the pouring rain. You were absolutely numb to everything except for the feeling of your high and the continuous thrusting that was almost torturing you into hypersensitivity. It felt so fucking good, and you could have joked about seeing the Gates of Heaven if not for the fact that you were still being fucked through the orgasm.

Feeling you cum so violently immediately sent Saeran over the edge. He couldn’t hold on any longer.

‘F-fuck, I’m gonna-’ He started, his arms visibly shaking. He waited to see if you were going to loosen your grip on his waist to let him pull out, but when you didn’t, he took it as a sign to keep going freely. He bucked his hips against you, shaking the surrounding candles slightly, cursing as he also finished. He froze for a few seconds of his orgasm before slowly continuing to move, just to prolong his own high for that little bit longer. He was full of sweet sighs as his own peak came in waves, filling you completely.

He collapsed onto your chest while still inside you, and you tiredly wrapped your arms around him, pressing kisses into his pale hair. In the quiet night air, the only sounds were the rain hitting against the window and the breath shared between the both of you. His face felt very warm on your skin and you supposed it was due to the thickness of his Savior garments and the sheer physical exercise he had been doing. Your breathing started to mellow out and shortly Saeran pulled out of you, choosing to lay down on the altar besides you.

You silently shuffled closer to him, not quite finding the words to express how you feel about what just happened. Saeran didn’t seem to have much to say either, but you were well aware that the Saeran in front of you was not one for many words. Maybe he didn’t need words. He spent a lot of time in his own head that he was probably trying to rationalise and process what happened in his own time. You were a little anxious in the silence.

‘Do… you regret it?’ You asked nervously.

‘Do you?’ He countered in a sigh, his eyes closed as he faced upwards. You glanced up to look at him, watching as the shadows from the raindrops on the window reflected onto his face. A single shadowed tear rolled down the window, and it looked like he was crying a black tear, but it was only an illusion.

‘No. I don’t regret you. Any of you.’ You whispered, kissing the part of his shoulder that you were next to. Saeran always looked as though he was in pain, but in that moment he looked so peaceful. There were no furrowed brows, no frown lines or melancholic eyes, he looked his age. Right then, he didn’t have to be The Savior, he didn’t even have to be Saeran. You wanted to ask what to do next, since you were exhausted and feeling the need for a shower, but before you did Saeran said:

‘I will summon some Believers to walk you back to your room. It’s late. I’m going to remain here for a while longer.’

‘Ah okay… Can I ask a question?’ You leant up onto your side.

‘Go on.’

‘Who… gave me this?’ You tugged at the black chemise you had been given beforehand. Saeran opened his eyes slightly just to look at what you were referencing before saying:

‘Ray wanted to give you a gift. I thought you’d look best in black.’ He closed his eyes once more. You slid yourself off the altar, moving to press a kiss to his forehead.

‘Thank you. Goodnight, Saeran.’

‘For Paradise.’

‘For Paradise.’

[luvlyrv]

Duel | Seulgi x F!Reader | Knight!AU

Request: Okay so I have a request 👀 you don’t have to write it if you want want to, but the idea came to my head and I thought why not request it from one of my favourite writers! 🥺

SO, knight!seulgi. Or basically Seulgi with a sword and being bad ass 🥴 maybe a small bit of enemies to lovers, who knows? But just Seulgi. With a sword. 😳🥵

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: i hope you like it! i'm not big on action scenes so they were kind of rushed, sorry :( also sorry that it took so long my dear!! hope you're doing well <3

Date: 4/11/21

You uncomfortably roll your shoulders back, a phantom pain gradually enveloping your body. Somehow the mere sight of Seulgi was enough to send shudders down your spine as your body recounts the sensations of the many fights you've had with her. Maybe defeat has already etched itself into your muscle memory.

You let out a quiet breath as you observe her sparring session with a fellow damoiseau, a knight-in-training. Your mind feels a bit torn by the sight in front of you. On one hand you are entranced by the fluid motions and contortions that Seulgi managed to make her body do. On the other hand you struggle to not make an obviously unsettled face. Your mood sours at the disappointment you feel when reminded of the fact that despite how much you try to observe and study her, you have never bested her in a duel.

Besting the people around you had always come easy. You've enjoyed the pain of your training, knowing that it would be proven a worthy investment of your time when you see a pitiful body laying on the floor in front of you. When you get to see the face of defeat, hear the admittance of it. For all you know you are the perfect warrior. A noble knight worthy to serve the monarch.

You're better than everyone. You know it. Except for her.

What was it? What did you she have that you didn't? Every time she bested you in a duel it dealt a bastardly blow to your ego. The words 'second best' would make your eye want to twitch. For all your strength and endurance, your familiarity with the motions of battle, Seulgi just seemed to understand it more.

You recount the many times your body would strain itself after being dealt with many sharp thwacks. The throbbing pains from falling and rolling, again and again. The sense of hope and excitement as you pushed yourself to take on a stance and seemingly deal a final blow, only for Seulgi to easily and gracefully step away, just to kick you back to the ground.

You hate her. You hate the weaklings underneath you too. You swear you can hear them snicker when you lose to her, that treacherous woman.

You stop your thoughts when you suddenly hear the booming voice of your master calling for you. Your grip strengthens around your training sword as you slowly make way towards Seulgi. It's time for the two of you to repeat the process. This time though, you are determined to win. Certain of it. Seulgi, the best apprentice in your regiment, would not longer make a mockery of you.

Your jaw hurts as clench, barely containing your anger. You try to calm down and refocus on the situation at hand. You look at Seulgi as she stands in her own battle-ready stance in front of you. You wonder how her blows deal so much power when her frame looks so delicate.

Focusing on calming down your breathing, you slowly advance forward. Your opponent does the same and soon enough you're circling around each other. It's the same story again. The same beginnings.

You want to end things quickly and dive in for the first blow. One blow should be all you need, you think to yourself. You force yourself to go as quickly as possible, everything around you a blur except for your target herself. All of a sudden though, she disappears and suddenly you feel your training sword facing resistance, threatening to escape your grasp.

You grunt in frustration and reorient yourself to find Seulgi. You spot her and balance yourself waiting for another opening. She is always on the defensive it seems, but you are never one to wait. As the seconds go by you deem it the right time to go for a slash. It feels as if your body is moving through molasses as you watch Seulgi glide out of your weapon's way in horror. You see her sword and a painful thwack is given.

It's the same story again. The same middle.

You repeat and repeat these motions. You going in for a hit only to be countered. Sometimes you'd get one in, but like you your opponent is hardy and gets back up. After a brutal pummeling you must resign yourself to defeat, as much as your heart hates it. The same ending as always.

This time though you can't seem to hold your tongue back.

You storm up closer to Seulgi and roughly hold onto the collar of her training attire. "What the hell is it? What's your secret?" You shake the woman a bit until her hands come up to your wrist. She pushes them down and you decide to let go. "Rematch tonight. I'll prove my worth." The words come out viciously but quietly. They were a promise both to her and yourself.

The crowd of spectators around you stay quiet after your outburst, and Seulgi doesn't say anything either. Not bothering to look at anyone's faces you leave the grounds to change clothes. They stuck to you with sweat and the gritty dirt that covered it bothered you

You can't think much for the rest of the day. The thoughts of your failure prevents you from enjoying training or beating other people. Soon enough you find yourself looking at a bowl of measly soup and bread in the mess hall all by yourself.

The warm soup makes you feel marginally better, but you don't pay much attention to it. Instead you take in your surroundings. This scenario is routine. You sit by yourself somewhere among the crowds of people interacting and enjoying their meal together. Even if people were nearby you simply would not speak. Why waste your breath on them?

In contrast to you though, you notice how hordes of people flock around the number one apprentice. Vying for her attention. Are you jealous? You can't tell. You just wonder if people would act that way towards you if you were the best.

Soon enough you hear the familiar yelling of a commander telling you all to return to your bunks. You quickly put away your bowl and utensils before hanging back from the line of people walking back towards the measly barracks that housed you all. Through the large body of people you see the crowd finally thin out as people their respective barracks. As you get closer to yours you finally spot Seulgi towards the entrance of the building. Coming up behind her you speak out.

"You didn't forget, did you?" She takes a moment to think before huffing.

"I suppose I should humor you after all."

You turn without letting her speak further. There's a silence between the two of you as you go to retrieve your training swords. You'd expect to hear loud padded footsteps behind you, but surprisingly Seulgi's footsteps sound faint. Nearly nonexistent.

The night sky of course makes it hard to see things, but your years of training has ingrained the layout of the entire area into your heart. It also helps that the moonlight allows you to see just enough as well. You make it to your destination with ease, picking up your weapon you watch as Seulgi grabs hers too.

"Where are we going to fight?" She questions you tiredly.

"Out in the field." Your answer is curt as you once again lead Seulgi, this time to the middle of the field you had fought in earlier in the day. When you arrive you distance yourself farther away from her and take your stance.

"You ready?" You ask her as you plant your feet into the ground and focus on your breathing.

"Mhm." Seulgi, unlike you, decides to stand there. She seems uncommitted, like she doesn't care about the fight. How dare she do that when your pride is on the line? When you're taking this so seriously?

Frustration builds up inside of you as you take her attitude as disrespect. You move in to give her a quick jab. Extending your arm, you feel your weapon graze her before she moves out of the way. A popping noise fills the air as she strikes down near the hilt of your weapon, trying to make you loosen your grip. It almost works but you quickly readjust your hands. You force up your sword in retaliation, breaking away the contact between your two swords.

With your sword so high up you decide to go for a horizontal swing towards Seulgi's body. In the early moments of your swing though, Seulgi ducks down and gives you an upwards jab towards your chest.

You heave as air forcefully leaves your lungs, a pain exploding around your chest.

"God!" You wheeze out loudly. Seulgi stands in front of you while she lowers her sword. You get down to your knees and look at the ground. Your breathing normalizes quickly but you try to get your bearings before rising again.

"I still... don't get it." As quickly as your breathing returned to its normal state, your voice quivered as your eyes felt hot. The disappointment that you seemingly always felt around Seulgi had made its reappearance. This time it hit harder than normal. Hard enough to make you start crying.

As your breathing began to become more uneven you finally raise your head and stand up. The form of your opponent gets closer to you. The only sounds between the two of you is the noises escaping your throat as you broke down again.

"How can you manage to fight like that?" You notice Seulgi has put both of her hands out to you. Your hesitance to take them spurs her to speak.

"I'll show you." Her voice touches you somehow. How have you never noticed how angelic she sounded? How gentle she was being with you right now? "Just take them."

You allow her to take your hands. She carefully clasps her similarly calloused hands around yours and begins to move. Her body sways, you don't quite understand why but you try to follow suit.

"I don't get it." You say as you try to mirror her movements. You fumble in embarrassment as Seulgi moves with confidence and grace. You're like a fawn who hasn't learned how to walk next to her.

"I'm a dancer, don't you see?" She momentarily lets go of your hands and walks backwards. You miss the feeling of her hands but you're entranced by the short show she puts on.

She performs for you, the dance itself was beautiful as she created curves and angles with her body. The moonlight enhances it, bouncing off her body and allowing her to glow.

Why have you never noticed how delicate her features looked? How it looked as if she was hand sculpted by the gods?

She returns back to you, taking your hands in hers and leads you back to dancing. You focus harder on trying to mimic her correctly. Eventually the both of you are gracefully dancing across the vast field. You're calmer now, happy even.

"See?" Seulgi says after a while of silent dancing. "The battlefield is my dancefloor, and I'm simply dancing around your blade."

"You're an incredible dancer, Seulgi." Seulgi has brought the two of you closer now. You notice how her lips tug up a bit as you pay her a compliment. That was the first time you've complimented her, perhaps even anyone here. It was the first time you said something without malice to her.

"I try." She laughs a bit. "I wanted to be a professional dancer at first actually. My family wanted me to go into a more noble field though, for the sake of our reputation. I protested at first of course. As I thought more though I decided I wouldn't mind protecting people. I still try to dance everyday though."

"Oh." Shock is laced through your voice. Listening to Seulgi was a humbling experience to say the least. You had wanted to become a knight for your own honor, to attain glory and recognition. You hadn't paid much thought towards protecting other people.

It was also strange to see Seulgi treat you like this. Her kindness was unprecedented. Was your hatred and spite one-sided all along?

"Hm?" Seulgi is curious to your shock as she quirks her eyebrow.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"I've..." It hurts you a bit to say sorry, let alone apologize correctly. You force yourself to do it though. Maybe, just maybe, you need to change. "I've certainly acted coldly towards you and others. My actions have been... conceited." You here a soft giggle before Seulgi speaks again.

"You're cuter when you're not being awful, you know?" You're glad that the sun has set and that Seulgi can't see the embarrassment on your face. Seulgi hums a tune as you continue dancing together.

"Try smiling more and scowling less. You'd be more approachable that way, along with some attitude changes of course. Aren't you lonely?" She tries to advise you, and normally you'd lash out if anyone made comments about your behavior, but you can't help but to listen to the soothing voice of Seulgi.

"...I can try." You whisper. "I think, if I may speak frankly, I would be okay with being second best under you." Seulgi laughs again.

"Oh? Was dancing with you all it took to make you earn some humility?"

"Maybe... can we dance again another time?" You ask with hesitance before you quickly elaborate. "To get better at fighting, like you! Of course. Only if you want to."

"If this would effectively make you learn your lesson, then sure."

This was the first time you could talk to someone like this, and you like it.

"Thank you, Seulgi, for your patience."

You understand why she's the best apprentice out of all of you. Why people flock around her. Who wouldn't want to be near the giving soul of Seulgi?

[luvyanfei]

EVEEEEE CONGRATS ON THE NEW BLOG I HOPE YOULL HAVE LOTS OF FUN WRITING 💜💜💜💜 Let’s see though,,, for my request,,, May I request hcs of Vil x a reader who’s a graphic designer and she edits his magicam posts and whatnot 👀💖

ue ue,,, forgive me if i mischaracterize vil. i also got a bit carried away and this ended up kind of lengthy. thank you vivian! <3

VIL SCHOENHEIT.

when vil finds out about your apparent talent, he’s impressed, to say the least. he knows how diligent you are with your studies, he’s seen with his own eyes the way you organize your notes proficiently and listen thoughtfully during lectures. the effort you pour into your academics is an admiring trait. he’s just, never thought you’re skilled in the creative side of the spectrum as well.

as usual, he’s having difficulties trying to outshine his competitor, neige leblanche. with rook’s advice, he sought out to spice up his contents and produce something that will successfully attract the public’s eye. newer is better, as the saying goes. he exits out to the school’s library after class has finished for the tiresome day to reflect and craft up a plan. he doesn’t expect to see you sitting down on one of the desks, typing things down on your computer once he gets there. ah. you must be starting the new assignment crewel has assigned, he guesses. well, that’s what he thinks, until he walks past you to secretly glance at the screen you’re focusing all your attention on which are, e-edits? how... intriguing. vil can’t help but be silently amused as he watches you skillfully colour in images and create appealing layouts. gears suddenly turn in his head and he ponders deep in thought, inspiration hitting him hard.

“vil, what are you looking at?” shoot. he’s so absorbed in your work that he fails to realize you’ve spotted him staring.

“potato, you’re quite good at editing.” he crosses his arms nonchalantly, nodding his head to gesture to your laptop. you sheepishly look down at the ground and a faint blush dusts your cheeks.

waving your hands in front of you, you rebuke his compliment. “no no. i’m not, really. you’re the one who’s talented between the two of us.”

ah, so you’re the insecure type. he clear his throat to change the topic, much to your relief. “anyways, i’ve been having a bit of a dilemma concerning my posts, lately.” he carefully explains the situation at hand and you nod along. “well, care to lend me a hand. i’m positive you have the skill to make promising results.”

you’re astounded, for a brief moment. vil schoenheit, one of the most popular social media icons in the school and your secret crush, is asking you for help? still in shock, you accept his proposal nonetheless, a wave of excitement washing over the prickling doubt in your head. and that’s how you became his personal graphic designer and your relationship with him takes a more positive turn towards the romantic light.

as you work and combine your talents together, vil admittingly forms a budding affection for you which blossoms into a full-on crush. how can he not? your effervescent smile that emanates warmth as you’re editing the latest posts he’s going to publish for the day gives him a rush of tingling happiness and he reciprocates your smile with a tiny beam of his own, highlighting his beauty.

he tries to pay you back with cash or gifts, but you quickly shake your head and reassure him that he’s worth the time. plus, you’re quite fond of editing so it’s killing two birds with one stone. he makes sure to at least credit you since it would be inconsiderate of him to take all the glory for himself.

after days of preparation and hard work, vil posts the finished products for all to see while you watch him in anticipation. immediately, your budding anxiety is quenched down by the multiple notification noises of his phone and, to both of your amazement, his posts have received generous number of hearts and comments filled with genuine praise in under a minute. what’s most surprising is the fact that he has now gained almost more than the massive followers that neige has. almost. vil should be feeling bitter and scornful for not being more popular than the rsa student is, but he’s... content. after all, he has something - or rather, someone, that neige will never have - and that’s you.

he strives for perfection, and he hopes you - his cherished lover and adoring graphic designer - excel too. it’s always better to journey hand in hand to the top instead of venturing alone, right?

you’re busy typing away on your laptop, concentrating hard on perfecting the edits for vil. the sky outside is dark and the moonlight beams through the many windows in the room. your eyes feel heavy and it’s tempting to close them to give way to slumber, yet you force yourself to battle against your drowsiness. the knocking of the door alerts you to turn around to the source of the intruder as vil himself swiftly enters pomefiore’s common area with a mug of hot cocoa in one hand.

“ara ara, potato, what are you doing up so late?” he places the cup down beside you and grips your shoulders firmly, yet gently, pressing your back against his chest as he straightens your posture. you automatically blush at the close proximity and offers him a little smile.

“i was trying to finish the work for today,” you gesture to your open laptop, ushering him to view your unfinished edit. he studies it closely. beauté as always, he muses to himself, just like you.

you take a sip and breathes out a sigh of satisfaction, letting the decadent taste of the drink trickle down your throat. he cups your chin and his lilac pupils bore into yours. unhesitating, he captures your lips in his perfectly, interlocking his tongue with yours for good measure. your eyes widen for a split second, but you close them reflexively and slings your arms around his neck to further deepen the intimate moment.  

you stay together like this for a few full minutes, until he pulls away reluctantly. “[name],” his fingers comb through your hair, as if to lull you asleep, “don’t overwork yourself. you may have your flaws, but that’s what i find so endearing about you. rest now, my love.”

and with that, he seals your day with a fluttering kiss to your forehead before you finally drift into unconsciousness.

[dothwrites]

Destiel, perhaps arranged marriage enemies to lovers tropes, with one or both thinking the other is dead and then REUNION. Bonus points for medieval au, mafia au, or no one actually says “I love you” until AFTER THE REUNION

---

I fiddled around with the prompt a little bit; hopefully this is what you wanted! also this has been in my inbox for forever and a day i’m such trash i’m sorry

---

Dean wakes to a hand clamped over his mouth and nose. He’s suffocating. 

His hand grabs under the pillow for his gun before he remembers: there are no weapons allowed in the Novak’s inner sanctum. At least, he’s not allowed weapons. He jerks against the hand but those fingers are pure steel, pushing down on his mouth and nose until the lack of air makes him dizzy. 

Cold eyes glint down at him. Dean’s brain, working at double-speed, easily places the face. 

Castiel Novak. 

When it comes to Castiel Novak, son of Michael Novak, there’s a whole host of emotions swirling in Dean’s chest. Some of them are good, some of them are murderous, and all of them roar up to the surface as he looks at Cas. 

Castiel isn’t supposed to enter his bedroom without express permission. It was one of the many rules hashed out when the exchange was made. For Castiel to break it means that he has some kind of death wish. Either that, or something’s very wrong. 

Judging from the grim look on Cas’ face, Dean’s willing to go with the second option.  

“What’s wrong?” He tries to ask, except Castiel’s hand is still over his mouth, so the words come out in a garbled wuss wruuung. Dean glares venom at Castiel and finally manages to yank Castiel’s hand away from his mouth (no small task, Castiel is like a brick wall). 

“You need to come with me,” Castiel says, his low, rough voice brooking no disagreement. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

If possible, Castiel’s expression hardens further. “Get out of bed and get dressed.” 

Furious, Dean starts to argue, but the soft click of a safety being removed stops him. Moonlight glints off the barrel of Castiel’s gun as he points it directly at Dean’s face. “I said,” Castiel orders, his voice smooth and deadly as poisoned silk, “get out of bed and get dressed.” 

Dean’s upper lip lifts in a snarl, but he does as ordered. For now, he’s forced into compliance, at least until he can come up with a plan. “You’re fucking dead, Novak,” he mutters, searching for his pants. 

Castiel says nothing, but keeps the gun trained on him until Dean is dressed down to his boots and jacket. “Pack a bag. Only take what you need.” 

Questions rise, but Dean voices none of them. He already knows it wouldn’t do him any good. Castiel’s not a chatty man at the best of times, less so when he has a gun in his hand. Dean turns to his closet, looking for his duffel back, left virtually untouched. He’s never unpacked since he moved into the Novak compound, too homesick and resentful to try making a new home out of this place. 

“You gonna kill me, Cas?” he asks, turning to face Castiel and holding his arms open in apparent surrender. 

“Come with me,” is all Castiel says, before he gestures with the gun towards the door. “Quietly. If you scream, it’s worth your life.” 

---

The kicker is, Dean thought that he and Castiel were actually...well...not friends exactly, but whatever came before friends. Allies. Maybe partners, if he was being optimistic. After all, it’s not like Castiel didn’t get equally screwed in the deal between John Winchester and Michael Novak. 

Everyone who wasn’t John Winchester or Michael Novak got screwed in the deal. It was simple: an exchange between the families, an eldest son for an eldest son. Dean Winchester went to the Novaks, while Gabriel Novak went to the Winchesters. The exchange was meant to keep peace between the two families, and usher in a new era of cooperation, or whatever bullshit they said to try and sell it. Dean’s brain had shut down around the same time his father told him he would be going to the Novaks. One look at his father told him that protesting would be for naught: he would be going to the Novaks, as helpless as a child bride, while an enemy would be coming to take his place. 

Dean had arrived at the Novak’s compound and been met by Castiel Novak. If he hadn’t hated the other man for everything he stood for, then he would have been impressed by the unruly dark hair, the luminous blue eyes, the chiseled jaw, all topping a taut, muscular body dressed in an impeccably tailored suit. But Castiel’s family had ripped him away from everything he’d known, taken him away from Sam, and put an imposter in his place. 

When Dean was dumped into an unfamiliar place, it was Castiel who was his guide. Castiel, who was about as thrilled at Dean’s presence in his house as Dean was, but who still tolerated his presence. Dean followed Castiel around, learning the layout of the mansion, but never coming close to the Novak’s secrets. Not that he expected to, but he still felt like he was falling down on the job, failing his family by not gathering every piece of information about an enemy that he could. Eventually, Castiel’s taciturn nature had softened, leading Dean to the apparently mistaken presumption that he and Castiel were on track to become partners. 

How wrong he’d been. 

---

Dean and Castiel walk through familiar halls to an unfamiliar staircase. The gun pointed at his back keeps their pace fairly brisk. Dean keeps searching for some kind of weapon, only to come up empty. He would try to rush Castiel and take the gun, but he’s sparred against Cas a few times. Though it’s a hit to his pride to admit, he’s not entirely sure he could beat Castiel in a fight, even if the qualifier of the gun weren’t an issue. 

“If you’re going to kill me, don’t you want an audience?” Dean’s steps echo on the steps, Castiel following close behind. “Got the definite impression most of you Novaks would be only too happy to see my brains blown out.” 

Dean Winchester is not known for making friends. 

“Hurry up,” is all Castiel says in reply, as he leads Dean to a door almost hidden in the dark paneling of the room. Dean’s never seen this part of the Novak mansion, and he hesitates to think of what’s behind that door--torture chambers? Whatever it is, it’s likely to be unpleasant. 

Still, it’s not like he has a choice in the matter, so he opens the door, and steps into...

“A garage?” Of all possible rooms, he wasn’t expecting this. Dozens of cars, antiques as well as the newest models of sport cars, sit gleaming in the dim light. “You want me to fix your engine?” 

“Do you ever shut up?” Castiel growls, but there’s more exasperation than true anger in the voice. “Come here, and hurry, we don’t have a lot of time.” 

For the first time, it occurs to Dean that he might not have a full grip on this situation. 

Castiel passes all of the cherries in the garage and leads him to a small, dumpy looking sedan. Dean wrinkles his nose in distaste (every car he compares to the Impala is ultimately found lacking, but this car is particularly offensive), even as Castiel presses a pair of keys and a thin slip of paper into his hand. 

“Take this car and go to that address. Everything’s been set up; you’ll have food and supplies for about six weeks. I assume you know enough to change cars as soon as you can so that one can’t be traced. You’ll have to dump your phone as soon as you can, preferably in a different place than you dump the car.” 

“Cas, what the hell are you talking about?” Dean’s been willing to go along with this for a while (guns are a good way of ensuring compliance), but here is where he draws the line. “You need to explain yourself right the fuck now.” 

Castiel clenches his jaw as thunder and lightning flicker in his eyes. Dean knows, from painful experience, that Castiel doesn’t enjoy having his will thwarted, but there’s no alternative. Castiel seems to assume that Dean will placidly comply with his whims, but Dean has never placidly complied with anything. 

“You’re in danger, but if you do what I say, then you’ll be in slightly less danger.” 

Cas pushes at Dean’s shoulder, but Dean whips his hand out, catching Cas’ wrist in his hand. “Gonna have to do a lot better than that, Cas,” he warns, squeezing just tightly enough to spark a hint of pain as the tiny bones grind together. 

Cas snarls with impatience before yanking his wrist out of Dean’s grip. “This whole agreement, the exchange...It’s all a setup. You, me, Gabriel, and Sam--we’re all pawns.” 

Dean blinks. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“In about twenty minutes, several members of the Novak family are going to storm your bedroom with the intent to kill you, while across town, the same thing is happening in Gabriel’s room. In the morning, the eldest son of the Winchesters and the eldest son of the Novaks will both be dead, under the roof of the family who was, up until a few weeks ago, their worst enemy.” A twisted, bitter smile plays at Castiel’s mouth. 

“They want to start a war,” Dean breathes, disbelief and horror warring within him. What Cas is saying sounds so ludicrous, and yet...What reason would Cas have to lie? 

Castiel’s face is grim as he nods. “The Novaks blame the Winchesters, the Winchesters blame the Novaks, and then, just to complicate matters, Lucifer will also claim responsibility.” 

“Why?” 

Castiel shrugs, arms thrown wide in helplessness. “To sow chaos? Power? The city’s three most powerful families caught in a war? Whoever survives, whoever’s alive at the end...That family will have everything. They’ll own everything.” 

“And that’s worth the risk?” 

Castiel shrugs, a helpless little edge in the gesture. “If you think you’ll win, then I suppose so. The problem is, all three think they can win.” 

Castiel’s eyes are dark as something complicated swirls behind them. Absurdly, Dean’s heart lurches forward. For a second, he wants--But then he forces himself to pull back. “And running away will help?”

“It’s the best plan I could come up with on short notice,” Castiel snaps. “You need to get to the safe house now.” 

“Wait,” Dean breathes, as the pieces finally start to click. “You said...the assholes that are coming to kill me...They’re coming to my house...” Rage lights in him and Dean surges forward. Heedless of the gun in Castiel’s hand, he wraps his fingers around the other man’s throat. “You son of a bitch, my brother is there!” 

He squeezes, sick satisfaction curling in him as he watches a red flush spread to Castiel’s cheeks. He only has a moment to savor the feeling before Castiel shoves him away. 

“Asshole,” he coughs. His eyes water but he never blinks as he stares at Dean. “My brother’s in that house too. You think I’d let him get killed?” His upper lip curls, whether in anger or disdain, Dean doesn’t know. “Gabriel and Sam are headed to the same safe house that you are.” 

“And you? Where are you going?” 

Castiel fixes his gaze on a point beyond Dean’s shoulder. “We can’t all disappear. Someone has to stay.” 

Furious for reasons he can’t comprehend, Dean snaps, “And that someone has to be you?” 

Castiel clenches his jaw around his words. “It’s bad enough that you, Gabriel, and Sam are all going to disappear on the same night. You’re going to have the Winchesters, the Novaks, and Lucifer all on your trail. But if I stay, then I can try to cover you for as long as I can.” 

“Or you could get yourself killed!” Dean drags his fingers through his hair. He doesn’t know why the thought of Cas getting hurt sits so sour in his stomach, but it does, to the point where he thinks he might vomit if he thinks about it too long. “Your family isn’t stupid. They’re going to see me gone, and they’re going to connect the dots pretty damn quickly!” 

“I can make it look like you overpowered me. I can take care of myself.” Cas glares. “And none of this is going to matter if you don’t get the hell out of here.” 

“I’m not leaving without you.” Dean plants his feet.  

Dean’s ready for Cas to throw a punch or shove a gun in his face. But he’s not ready for Cas to lunge forward, face like a tempest, and drag him close with one hand twisted in his hair. He’s not ready for Cas’ lips to crash into his, he’s not ready for a swirl of lust and want and affection to hit him with the force of a truck. 

For a few blessed seconds, he and Cas are the only people in the world. Dean’s world narrows to Cas’ lips, Cas’ touch, Cas’ body pressed against him. Dean’s mouth opens under the onslaught and Cas takes advantage, his tongue mapping the contours of Dean’s mouth with a thoroughness bordering on savagery. 

Dean could get lost in Cas, could go so far under that he never makes it back to the surface. He pulls himself away and tries to get rid of the feeling like he left something important behind. 

“Please,” Cas asks, his voice rough and wrecked. “Please go.” He forces a sickly smile. “Once the heat dies down, I’ll join you. I promise.” 

Over the course of his life, Dean’s become quite the accomplished liar. He thought Cas be the same, but the man folds like a bad hand of cards. Grief rips through Dean as Cas pushes him towards the car. 

“If you don’t come--” Dean starts, only to be cut off by Cas’ lips pressed into his. He pulls away, much as it hurts, and holds Cas’ chin in a harsh grip. “If you don’t show up, then we’re coming for you, and that’s going to cause a damn big ruckus, so you’d better show up.” 

“Of course.” Cas’ mouth might say one thing, but his sad eyes say another. “Please, you’re running out of time. Please Dean, please go.” 

Dean throws his duffel into the backseat and turns back to Cas. This time, they move as one, their hands grappling through hair and clothes, mouths and teeth clacking in an awkward tangle of need and want. “You’d better fucking show up,” Dean hisses, nipping at Cas’ lower lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“Go,” Cas pleas. 

Cas pulls Dean’s hand away from him. His touch is so deft and sure that Dean doesn’t realize he’s been given the gun until Cas wraps his fingers around the barrel. He looks between it and Cas, confusion and fear clashing within him. 

“You have to make this look real.” 

Dean looks down at the gun again. “I’m not going to shoot you!” 

A quick smile flashes across Cas’ face, sweet enough to break Dean’s heart. “Please don’t. But if you want to help me sell this thing, then you have to make it look like we had a struggle.” 

Cas’ eyes are steady as he looks at Dean, and the gun is a solid weight in his hand. Dean’s stomach clenches as he lifts the gun. “Do it,” Cas whispers, and he might think that helps, but it just sends another jolt of guilt straight through him. 

Dean looks past Cas’ shoulder as he hefts the gun. He brings it crashing against Cas’ temple in one quick, harsh blow. The sound of impact churns his stomach and he can’t help but moan as Cas crashes down to his knees. Blood trickles from underneath his hairline, tracing a thin path down his cheek. 

Castiel Novak is a tough son of a bitch. 

Dean hit him, full strength, with the intention of putting him down. Cas isn’t fighting against him, Cas wants to go down. And yet, the part of Cas that claws to survival with a tenacious, desperate grip, is still clinging onto consciousness. 

Make it real, Cas said, knowing that being knocked unconscious was the only way he could ever hope to sell the subterfuge of Dean’s escape. 

Dean owes Cas not only his life, but Sam’s life as well. If there’s anything he can do for Cas, even if it tears him apart, he has to try. 

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, just before he slams the butt of the gun into Cas’ head. 

With a sick, wet sound, Cas hits the ground and doesn’t get up. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Dean turns Cas onto his side, careful not to jostle him too much. The thin trickle of blood has become a stream which covers the side of his face in crimson. Dean’s heart catches in his chest at the sight, and he doesn’t relax until his shaking fingers press against Cas’ jaw to find his pulse. It’s a little thready, but still steady. 

Reluctantly, Dean pulls away. He wants to take the time to lay Cas out and make him comfortable. It feels wrong, leaving Cas unconscious on the cold, dirty floor, but it would look suspicious if Cas was arranged neatly. Cas is trusting him to do this right; Cas is trusting Dean to take care of him. 

Dean swings himself into the car and starts the engine. The garage door opens and freedom beckons by way of the open road. Down that road is Sam and safety. Dean knows he needs to follow that path. He needs to take care of Sam. 

But he still can’t help looking back in the rearview, heart twisting in his chest at the sight of Cas’ crumpled figure. 

--

part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi

NOW COMPLETE