#seonghwa soulmate au

[solaris-amethyst]

💫Did I even deserve you?💫

✨Pairing: Vampire!Seonghwa x dead!gn!reader ✨Prompt: Vampire Seonghwa is still miserable many decades after losing his soulmate. ✨Word Count: 3.4k ✨Genre: angst, vampire au, soulmate au 🌙Warnings: talks of death, reader is mentioned but not alive in this story, no use of y/n, mentions of Seonghwa not feeding for a long period of time, lost of a loved one, mentions of how he wishes he wasn't on this earth anymore, grief, ghosts, let me know if I missed any warnings! ☀️️Authors note: Got this idea into my head and wanted to explore writing angst in this setting. It is very different from what I usually write and I have worked hard on this one and I am quite pleased with the outcome.

The moon was high up in the sky, illuminating the forest in a light wash of grey. Highlighting the fog that is developing the forest and the castle making it look eerie and abandoned. Cobwebs dancing around windows and moss climbing up the bricks together with the roses that are climbing parts of the castle.

Both beautiful and dangerous.

It was said that sometimes you could see ghosts walking past the windows. Some even claimed to have seen a ghost in the rose garden. Walking around and calling out for their beloved but no response.

Young children were warned not to go there. It was dangerous and better to stay away from a place that would most likely fall in a few decades. The road to the castle was brittled with rocks, thick trees and bushes.

It was not a pleasant road.

Despite that there was a lone figure hiking their way up to the castle, dressed in a black robe. The figure was walking very slowly as if every step towards the castle was painful, making him hurt deeply. Despite that, he continued on with heavy footsteps to the one place he called home.

The owl up in the tree hooted familiarly once he was spotted and the howls of wolves could be heard throughout the forest. None of this bothered the man, for he knew that no one would dare to try and hurt him. A man of the night, a bloodthirsty bloodsucker as the humans once had called people like him.

Now he and his family were nothing more than a mere legend.

A myth.

Something humans wrote stories about without believing they actually existed. Sometimes the man wishes he no longer existed in this world.

It would be easier than walking around the world knowing your fated one was no longer walking this earth.

Unfortunately he was doomed to walk this cruel earth until the end of time as it was now.

The closer he got to his home the more dread and sorrow filled his entire being. He used to be filled with such happiness coming back here but now that was all gone.

The grand doors to the castle opened welcoming, sensing one of its masters returning home. The candles lighting up as he entered the hallway and walked down towards the place where he knew his brothers were residing.

They were expecting him after all. Like they do every year around this time when he gets back from his three month search around the world for anyone who could help him bring back his fated one to life.

And like every year he came back unsuccessful.

It was as if the world was taunting him. Taunting him for not being careful enough. For not appreciating what he had and for being arrogant thinking he could best fate and death because of who he was.

Seonghwa

Your voice.

He stopped what he was doing. Only the wind was blowing in from an opened window. The figure looked around carefully, not making much movements, for us mortals it would have looked like he was completely still.

He shook his head gently. It must have been the wind. It cannot have been your voice he heard.

You are no longer here he told himself as he continued his walk towards the room his brothers were in. He could not have heard your voice whisper his name in the wind. You were dead, no longer walking this earth and it felt like his heart was breaking into thousands of pieces every single day when he remembers that.

He remembers your smile, your laughter, your kindness. Everything that he once took for granted he now misses with such intensity that he does not know what to do with himself. It is like the joy he once had is now gone, sucked out of his body leaving behind a cold empty shell.

He starts walking again. He knows his brothers have heard him arrive and he knows that they are waiting for him. The closer he gets the more he can hear them. Shuffling around in the living room, living their normal lives.

Not stricken by grief.

The doors open once again welcoming, just like the front doors to one of its masters returning home and the noise dies down as he steps inside looking around at his family. They are all there. The first ones he notices are the two brunettes sitting together on the sofa. Yunho, Yeosang. Then he sees the them, San, Wooyoung. The latter holding a large book, open on some random page that they seemed to have been discussing before he arrived. He searched for the youngest of his brothers who he found standing next to the tall blond man near the table. Jongho. Mingi. He counted them in his head, he looked around, searching for the leader of his coven. He found him, standing near the big window gazing out into the garden. Hongjoong.

A part of him felt a little better after doing the count. For some reason he had worried they would not all be here when he came back despite the fact that they were always there. No doubt. They would always be here to welcome him home after his long journey.

The blond at the window turned around and when their eyes met he gave him a smile.

"Welcome home Seonghwa. We have missed you." He said taking a few short steps forward to greet him. Taking him into an embrace which he returned.

"I am glad to be back." Seonghwa replied even if it was only half the truth. He was glad to be back seeing his brothers but in reality he was not overly pleased being back without a solution to his suffering.

"How was your journey around the world? Did you find what you were searching for?" Hongjoong questioned even though Seonghwa suspected he already knew the answer to that just like the rest in the room listening in on their conversation.

"Unfortunately I have yet to find someone or something that could help me bring back my loved one." He told him, his shoulders slumping forward. He tried to put on a neutral face but Hongjoong was smart, he could see through his facade quicker than anyone else in their coven. His eyes had shown a glimt of understanding as he nodded carefully.

"You look awful, have you been feeding at all when you have journeyed???" Wooyoungs voice pierced through the air, clearly targeted at him and he could only shrug his shoulders opting not to look at the younger vampire.

"I do not feel hungry anymore Wooyoung." Was the only thing he could give as a response and if he had not already been dead the look Wooyoung sent him would have put him 5 feet under the ground as they spoke.

"You have to feed Seonghwa. It is not healthily to avoid feeding for as long as you have! Lat time I saw you feed was three months ago before you left!" Wooyoung stalked towards him "Are you telling me you have not feed in three months??"

They stared at each other for a long while. He knew all of them already knew the answer. It was the same every year and like every year before this year Wooyoung always grew furious when he figured that he had been neglecting his own health.

Again.

He could feel the energy around him tense up. The others were clearly not happy at all with this and yet despite that Seonghwa could not get himself to care about it. Had it been the other way around he would have been furious, furious at his brothers for ignoring their health and not eating but since it was him and not them he found himself often not caring. He would rather wallow in his grief, allowing the ugly feelings tormenting him to come to the surface in various ways.

"How is my beloved? Are they still safe in their casket?" He asked, voice cracking at the word beloved.

The very thought of you not being there or the possibility of something happening to you whilst he was gone was terrifying to him and he had to fight hard to stop the tears wanting to well up in his eyes.

Wooyoungs furious eyes soften instantly when he had asked the question and the other looked at him with sympathy. Yunho nodded confirming that you were still safe, still protected in the garden he had grown just for you.

"They are safe Seonghwa. We have made sure nothing could harm them whilst you were away." San said, giving him that kind smile only San could give someone when they needed it the most. Seonghwa felt like he could see the stars in his brothers eyes at that moment and it never failed to amaze him how much love and adoration could be seen in Sans eyes and how it was always something very real. It never faded or changed no matter how many decades had passed and right now he was thankful for it.

For the love and compassion his brothers were showing him.

"Why do you not sit down? Tell us about your journey? What has changed in the world since last time you went outside?" Hongjoong questioned whilst leading him over to the big chair, gently guiding him to eventually sit down in it. A blanket was placed over him, Mingi moving with utmost care to wrap it around him to keep him warm. He almost let words of protests out until he saw the worry in his eyes.

"Your beloved would not want you neglecting yourself like this." Was all he said with a low rumble before standing up and walking over to Jongho.

That stung.

His heart ached at the comment Mingi had said. Everyone had heard it. It was impossible for them not to hear him. They just pretended like nothing had been said but he knew they were silently agreeing with him. Agreeing with the statement that you, his beloved, who no longer walked this earth, would not want him to neglect himself and his health.

He wants to respond. To deny what Mingi has said. He has rationalized in his head that you would be okay with what he is doing so he can bring you back and the two of you can live together again like you did before.

The rest of his coven sits down all looking at him with curious eyes. Waiting for him to start telling them about his journey.

"It is all the same. Nothing has really changed in the outside world. We are still myths and legends. The only thing that has changed amongst humans is their greed. I would say they have become even greedier and distrusting than before."

"Humans have always been greedy and distrusting Seonghwa." Hongjoong cut him off before sending an apologetic look when he glared at his coven leader.

"I would say they are even more so now than before. I searched through every country on this bloody earth and I found no one. No one who could help me bring my beloved back. The sights I saw when wandering should have taken my breath away but all it did was make me angry. Furious that they were not next to me witnessing it all. At one point on a cliff looking out at the ocean I screamed. I cursed everything living and dead that day. I was so angry and I still am." Seonghwa spoke, his hands fiddling with the blanket as his eyes darken in anger.

His brothers look at each other in worry. They had hoped after many decade that Seonghwas fury and anger would dwindle down but it only seemed to grow with each year. Wooyoung looked at his older brother and friend in sorrow, he had been close to you, Seonghwas beloved, when you were still living and breathing. He understood the pain and anger Seonghwa was feeling but he also knew that you would not wish this upon anyone. Once having confided in him that you would want them to move forward to be happy, not to forget but to eventually come to cherish what had been rather than constantly living in the past thinking of what you could have done together if only things had gone differently.

"And I-" Seonghwa started but stopped once he heard it again.

Seonghwa.

He looked around. He swore he had heard your voice again. This time it could not have been the wind for no window was open.

"Hwa? What is wrong?" Yunhos voice brought him back from his thoughts as he turned to look at him.

"Y-you did not hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head "It was nothing."

"Perhaps you should go and rest?" Yeosang chimed in and the others agreed, nodding their heads.

Seonghwa looked at them before glancing around again, he was sure he heard you but now since none other than him seems to have heard you he wonders if some rest would actually help him.

So he nods and he can see the other's shoulders drop down in relaxation as if they had been expecting him to put up a fight and argue with them about resting.

"Perhaps I should... but I would like to go see them first." He feels stupid, like a child asking for permission to do something when he is the oldest in the coven. He could do whatever he wanted and if that was to go out into the rose garden and visit you then he could without permission.

He stands up before anyone can answer what he has said, he lays the blanket back on the chair before he strides towards another sets of doors which will lead him back to a corridor and down a few flight of stairs before he can enter the garden.

The doors open immediately for him and he makes a point of quietly thanking the castle for opening its doors for him. He remembers the first time he had gone out on his three month journey. When he had come back inconsolable wanting to leave that room to go see you the castle had refused. Refused to open its doors and windows for its master to go wherever he pleased.

Not until he had calmed down and only the silent tears were staining his cheeks had he been allowed out. It was after his brothers had held him close, allowing him to grieve in safety and then being given a cup of blood to drink by Wooyoung to help stabilize himself.

After that the castle had always listened to him. And now he was walking with a sense of purpose, he had to see you again. It always pains him to be away from you for three months when he spends almost every single day around you. Tending to the roses or cleaning the glass casket you lay inside whilst talking quietly to you about his days or how much he misses you.

As he walks out of the door and into the garden he stops in his tracks when he sees something or rather someone walking ahead of him.

You.

He cannot stop himself before he rushes forward and just as he is to grab your hand you vanish.

"No... No no no no no!" He mumbles to himself, now sprinting towards the rose garden, you cannot be gone.

You cannot.

Seonghwa almost trips over the steps leading up to where you lay and he stops at the casket breathing heavily gripping it tightly as he takes you in.

You are still there. Untouched. Just like the way you had been when he had left three months ago.

"My beloved." He whispers and just like that the tears are welling up again in his eyes.

Seonghwa. My love.

Seonghwa gasps as he hears your voice again turning around since he can hear your voice from behind him. He had not expected to actually see you. You are pale, standing there and he notes as he falls down on his knees in shock that you are slightly transparent.

"My beloved. My love." He says while the first tear fall down his pale cheek. His voice is growing thick with emotion and when you look at him with those sad eyes he cannot help himself from crawling up to you trying to take ahold of your hand in his only to realize he is unable to.

"No. Please no. Please." He whimpers looking up at you as the waterworks starts afresh.

You have to let me go.

"No! No no no no please I cannot do that. Please I am sorry I cannot live in a world without you. Please do not leave me." He pleads over and over again trying to take ahold of you but he keeps going through you. His eyes looks almost wild as he tries everything to be able to hold you.

You can see how his heart breaks over and over at not being able to hold you and you know you cannot be visible for much longer.

I love you.

When Seonghwa notices that you are disappearing from his view is when he goes into hysterics. He wails for you to come back to him, he screams in fear, anger and grief and it echos loudly throughout the entire forest. He roars in anger, smashing a statue before breaking down again near the casket. Sobbing over and over again that he is sorry, that he wishes you would come back to him. He asks for death to take him once and for all so he can reunite with you.

He grips his head as he cries, wails and screams in fury and sadness. It is like an explosion he cannot control. Seonghwa is unsure of how much time has passed but he finds that he does not care. All he cares about is that he saw you and he could not hold you one last time like he wished he could. He contemplates for a moment to destroy your casket just so he could hold you in his arms again but he physically cannot make that move.

He cannot destroy your last sleeping place. That would be like spitting on your entire existence if he did, so he finds himself hurting himself and the statues and rose bushes around himself in a fit of anger.

Up in the castle seven figures are looking out of the window from the room they still were in. Hearing Seonghwas wails of agony and grief pained them. It was as if someone was driving a spear into their non-beating heart over and over again.

"I wish I could take away all his pain and suffering. All this grief." Jongho mumbles before leaning close to Hongjoong, hiding his face in the crook of his leaders neck as said man brings an arm around him to bring comfort.

"I never want to find my soulmate... It will only bring even more anguish to him. He will constantly be reminded of his own soulmate who he no longer has. I do not want to make him go through that." San says, tears building up in his eyes.

"You cannot stop it from happening San. Do not deprive yourself of the happiness of finding your soulmate because Seonghwa lost his. That is not something he would want. He would want you to be happy. You know that San." Yunho said whilst giving the younger a sad smile, tears also in his eyes as Seonghwa continues to scream and wail out apologies, curse words and asking for you to come back to him.

"Grief... What is not grief if not love persevering. It is proof of how much he has loved and cherished his beloved. He was just too blind in the moment that he thought he could best death and now all these years later after death won he cannot handle it. Because he has yet to fully accept that they are gone. He has yet to accept that they are gone. It might take years until he gets over the stages of anger, denial, depression and guilt. We will be there to help him through it all. I was thinking of going with him next year so he will not be alone on his journey." Hongjoong says eyes sharply focused on the figure down below.

Eyes slightly widening when he sees something or someone behind his brother before it disappears. He could have sworn it looked like you but he must have been wrong. It was probably the tears in his eyes clouding his vision.

It could not have been you.

You were dead.

Gone.

Forever.

[ldysmfrst]

Welcome to Incomplete's Master List! The Taglist is OPEN for this story.

This is an OT8 x Plus Sized/Chubby Reader story. The story will have Mature Scenes. The chapters with these adult themes will have (M) in the chapter name, so please 18+ readers only. Within the chapters, at the start and end of the Mature scene will be the following banner, if you want to skip them.

The world-famous K-pop group Ateez earned its way to Fame. Once they found each other, they became bonded soulmates. They figured everything was complete with the 8 of them, and they could share their passion for music with the world. What happens when a new pull comes during their Towards The Light World Tour? Does 8 really make 1?

Chapter 1 - A Pull to Where?

Seonghwa feels like something has been missing for a while. Y/n feels like she is leaving something behind.

Chapter 2 - A Soulmate in Los Angeles

Revelations within Ateez bring them together for the hunt to find their missing soulmate. Meanwhile, Y/n struggles with thinking she has gone into the land of Delulu.

Chapter 3 - Something is Wrong...

Ateez finally finds y/n, but it isn't the happy-go-lucky meet-cute anyone was expecting.

Chapter 4 - 8 Makes 1 Team, But 9 Makes... (TEASER)

Y/n dark past is revealed. It's time for all of Ateez to get on board and show y/n what it means to them, or step off and leave her alone.

As a paid member of my Patreon, you can read extra spicy smutty scenes and additional content and have early release benefits for each chapter!

TO BE CONTINUED...

Reader Asks

Additional Content

Patreon Writing Style Poll Results

[mxnsxngie]

Meant For Me (Park Seonghwa)

All your friends start finding their soulmates, but you are convinced you don’t have one. You have no physical marks showing you have one, and haven’t found them yet. But could that change when you meet Park Seonghwa, a friend of your friends’ soulmate?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

[headintheclouds-posts]

Was it worth it?

Seonghwa x Y/N: Angst & potential cheating

S/N - Fake GG

Synopsis: You’re madly in love with the man of your dreams, but a phone call changes everything, causing your life to spiral and your worst fears to be met.

Another Saturday night alone you thought to yourself, pouring a large glass of wine and making your way to the sofa. Silence echoed throughout your apartment which was caused you to slightly shiver as you sunk back into the chair. 

Dating an idol wasn’t easy, but you loved Seonghwa so much that not much else mattered. There was a lot of lonely nights like this one, but when you were with him all of that was forgotten and you just embraced being in love. Was your relationship normal? of course not, but for most idols and other celebrities, a normal relationship isn’t possible, so you just have to make do with what you have.

You pick up the remote and switch channel to watch the award show, smiling as you see the boys all dressed up, including your handsome boyfriend in his fitted suit. Surrounding them was a lot of well known groups, smiling for the camera’s and waving to the fans earning them loud cheers and cries. You noticed that the newly debuted girl group W1SH was sat next to Ateez. You couldn’t really help but watch them. Their sequined outfits fit to their petite bodies like skin and bright silky hair adorned their heads. You realised you weren't the only was fixated on them, as you noticed many other idols sneaking glances at their beauty.

Recently a story had come out shipping Seonghwa with the groups leader Minali. When you first read about it you couldn’t help the anxiety that hit you, Minali was beautiful. She had long auburn hair that cascaded down her back in loose curls and bright doe eyes that drew you in. Seonghwa laughed off the story saying it was ridiculous and that you shouldn’t believe such things, squashing any fear you may of felt... that was until this moment. You leaned closer to the TV with wide eyes watching the looks she aimed at your boyfriend, fluttering her eyelashes and smiling in his direction. Now usually this wouldn’t bother you as with your experience of dating Seonghwa, many girls made advances but this felt different, he was acknowledging her flirtatious looks and you could see the blush rising on his cheeks. 

‘Calm down y/n’ you scold yourself, ‘he’s probably just feeling nervous’. You walk to the kitchen again to pour another glass of wine in the hopes that it calms your nerves and settles your now pounding heart that was trying to jump through your t-shirt. 

The rest of the awards show went on smoothly, though you continued to notice small glances between your boyfriend and the pretty leader. At this point you were sat crossed legged in front of the TV screen with your nose almost pressed up against the glass, trying to figure out if your eyes were playing tricks on you or if indeed your world was being enticed by another. 

Once the ceremony had ended and the group interviews started, giving the idols time to thank their fans for helping them with the awards. The next group appeared causing the presenter to cheer into the microphone. 

‘Welcome Ateez, a big win for you guys tonight. Hongjoong please tell me how you’re feeling’ the interviewer asks, to which the leader answers beautifully with a well versed response on their evenings achievements. 

‘Now Seonghwa, we all couldn't help but notice the tension between you and Minali’ the interviewers laughs, ‘is there anything going on there?’ this question makes your boyfriend to blush and look down at his feet, ‘No comment’ he responds which causes the people in the room to gasp loudly. 

You don’t realise how tense your body is at this point as a sinking feeling tugs inside your chest. You continue to stare at the screen questioning whether you had heard it wrong and your boyfriend of 2 years didn’t just say that. You’re quickly pulled out of your trance as you notice W1SH were now chatting with the reporter and the same question is asked to Minali. ‘Come on Minali can you tell us if something is going on with you and Seonghwa?’... you wait with bated breath for her response as you see a smirk playing on her lips. ‘I don’t like to kiss and tell’ she answers. 

You turn the TV off with anger and hurt running through your veins and start pacing your apartment back and forth. Seonghwa wouldn’t cheat on you, you try to tell yourself. He’s not that type of person. You couldn’t seem to wrap your head around what you had saw, nothing was adding up, yet everything started to make sense. Maybe the late night practices and overnight stays at the dorm was all just lies. Was he with her? Was she the one he held at night whilst you slept alone holding his pillow close just to get his scent. 

You needed answers, so you picked up your phone and dialled his number, the show finished a while ago so he had no reason not to answer. After several rings the number connects and your heart sinks. ‘Hello Seonghwa’s phone’ a sweet voice says. The voice sounded all too familiar but you couldn’t help yourself but question if you were right. ‘Who is this?’ you questioned. ‘This is Minali, who is this?’ she responds. 

You couldn’t speak, the words were lost in your mouth and you had to bite your tongue to stop the sob threatening to escape. ‘Hwa, there’s someone on the phone for you’ the voice sings out to your boyfriend, but at this point you didn’t need to speak to him, you had the answer you needed to know and you hang up the phone and launch it across the room. 

You slump to the ground, the pain in your chest is growing stronger by the second as you feel your world collapse around you. Everything you shared together was a lie. You fought for this relationship, spent endless nights alone waiting for a person who was too busy loving someone else. You were done fighting, done being lied to and feeling disappointed. You felt so much at once that you started to feel nothing. He betrayed you and he hurt you, just to make himself feel better.

You pull your suitcase from under the bed and start throwing all your belongings in at once. You can barely see what you’re putting in at this point as your eyes are cluttered with the tears you couldn’t hold in. It hits you all at once how much stuff in this apartment was your shared memories, from the pictures hanging on the wall of you both to the pretty jewellery box he bought you for your birthday. None of that was coming with you, because leaving him meant leaving all those memories behind that were now tainted with infidelity. All those memories were now lies, you thought to yourself as you finish packing up your things. Your phone still laid bare with no traces of texts or calls, he didn’t care that he hurt you or broke your heart. 

You stand in your apartment taking one last look at the place you called home. It’s almost eerie how empty it feels without your belongings, making you realise that this was never really a couples home, but the home of a lonely person constantly waiting for her lover who only ever saw her as an option. With that you turn your back on the pain and close the door behind you, and the only traces of you that are left behind are broken memories and a note for the person who hurt you the most.

‘I hope she was worth it’.

[yunho0o0o0o]

Scout's Honor [chapter 1]

Fantasy AU, Soulmate AU

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut

Pairing: OT8 Ateez x fem!Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, attempted theft

Word Count: 2123

Note: Hello! Here's the first chapter of Scout's Honor. I'm having a lot of fun writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Mini Masterlist

The sun’s golden rays are sparingly cast over the market street, but the work day is far from over. Vendors still shout advertisements for their products and crowds mingle around each booth, browsing the contents.

Having already bought what you came here for, you’re sat on a stoop at the far end of the path simply watching over the businesses. Your hand mindlessly reaches into your satchel, patting the section your coin pouch is tucked in. Not many people join you, too busy rushing to finish up sales. 

The market streets have become thick with tension over the past month, with the war in the far country of Sena cutting off trade supplies. Not many materials are affected currently, but those that have been are far too expensive for you to even consider purchasing.

Your heavy brown cloak is settled over you, obscuring your figure from those around you. The hood over your head serves to further hide your features, as well as to shield your eyes from the harsh light of the near-setting sun. This scene is one you’ve grown familiar with over the past few years of living in Priua. 

The call of one particular merchant draws your attention to the opposite side of the street. Under your hood, you can see old man Dal waving his arms around with a scowl as he scolds a slim man dressed in fine leather.

The younger man seems more interested in the minuscule scuffs on his boots and dirt under his nails than in whatever Dal has to say to him. 

Your town sees its fair share of travelers, but this one has a careless attitude that has you on edge. Rising from your viewpoint, your feet take wide strides across the cobbles until you stand just a pace away from the man.

When Dal catches sight of your hood, his face relaxes a degree and his hunched shoulders square to meet you. He gives a slight bow of his head before stating his case.

“Sir Eun, This boy tried stealing from me!” the man cries. Your eyes catch onto the form of this supposed thief, tilting your head slightly as you study him. “Right from under my nose like I’m senile!” His boots are high quality, yet they’re scuffed and muddied. 

“He asked for an item then tried snatching these off the table when I wasn’t looking!” he yells, holding up a worn pouch of herbs. From what you can see of the dagger on the traveler’s hip, it would go for a good price at the market. “As the best healer in the city, you would know the hard work it takes to procure this fine product.” 

Trailing up the new man’s form, your shadowed eyes eventually raise to meet his cat-like ones. His eyebrow twitches upwards as does a corner of his lips. You level your stare at him, thinking. He hardly looks like someone who would need to steal.

Shifting your glance between the merchant and the man, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. You take steady steps towards Dal and pull the coin pouch from your satchel.

 “Perhaps our friend here is down on his luck at the moment. Here-” you pass the necessary coins with a soft, diplomatic smile, “for the herbs.” You pause, then tuck a few more coins into his palm. “And for the trouble.” 

“You’re too kind, Sir Eun.” You wave away his comment and grab the bundle of herbs from him, then turn to face the newcomer again. 

Only this time, nothing but open air awaits you. Your eyes dart around the darkening street, but you catch no sign of the man. “That bastard…” you grumble under your breath, settling for tucking the herbs into your satchel and trudging back to the tavern for the night.

You leisurely kick a pebble down the path for the short walk there. While you walk you ponder what you could do with the herbs. Perhaps you could simply resell them? From what you recall of the rare item, they aren’t good for much unless you’re working with poisons. Even then, its presence is hardly discreet.

By the time you set foot in the tavern, the regulars have already gotten comfortable at their usual tables. Come to think of it, you’ve become somewhat of a regular yourself here these days. However, you don’t go drinking yourself into a stupor any chance you get as the typical crowd here does.

You sit in the middle of a long table. With how dead the tavern is tonight, no one will mind if you take up a large space for yourself. The soft clink of glass on wood in front of you raises you from your thoughts. 

“Your mind must be quite busy to not greet me first thing, Eun. I brought you two tonight, as a precaution. I’ll have to go back to work in a second, but I always make an exception for my most valued customer.” Your eyes shift to meet those of the person sitting across from you, hands locked around two pints of ale on the table between you two. 

“Sorry, Jihye,” you say, gaze jumping around the room. “Just stressed, is all.” The chair gives a loud creak as you lean back into it.

“What’s stressing you?” she asks wiping her hands on her apron and leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. You pause a moment before responding.

“I have to meet with Sir Iseul of Chion,” you state, a distant look covering your features. Chion is not a terrible city by far, but you’d much prefer to stay in Priua where you’ve made your home. 

“Chion? But that’s so far! Nearly a month’s travel! What business is so important you must go to Chion? You shouldn’t be getting any closer to Sena!” she exclaims, eyes and mouth wide with shock. 

“It shouldn’t concern you, Jihye. It simply has to do with the healing arts. And Chion is a full two months travel from the battlefront. There’s nothing to worry about. We would know of the approach long before they ever reached the city.” you wave off her worries, taking a few sips from the closest pint.

Jihye shifts in her seat before her eyes raise to the door at your side. You take another sip from your pint of ale and follow her gaze, only to nearly spit it out when you see the form entering the tavern. 

The man from before pauses a few feet into the establishment to look around. You turn and lower your head as his gaze sweeps over your table, hoping your hood will help you blend in. The approaching footsteps alert you that your attempt at stealth was unsuccessful. Jihye seems to notice his approach and stands from her chair.

“Well, I should be getting back to work, Eun. Yell for me if you need anything.” She dusts off her apron before quickly walking towards the kitchen. In the next moment, the chair to your right is pulled from under the table and flipped around. The man sits down on it backward and sets his arms on the backrest. He looks over to you with a quick smirk.

“You know, I didn’t get to thank you properly earlier.”

“Perhaps because you were too busy running away?” You send him an amused grin.

“I didn’t stray too far. I was close enough to see you bought what I wanted.” He leans forward against the backrest, gesturing with his hands as he speaks. “How about I buy it off you? I swear I’ll pay this time.”

“Hmm... I’m not sure.” You pick at your nails, seemingly disinterested. “What if I happen to find myself in need of some…”you pause to recall the name of the herb in your possession, but come up short. “What if I plan to keep it?”

He pulls a coin pouch from his satchel and places nearly double the amount you had paid on the table in front of you. “Would this amount suffice?” he asks, lip curling into a smirk. You pretend to contemplate the decision momentarily, tapping your chin.

“I suppose it could,” you say, gathering the coins into your palm and retrieving the bundle of herbs from your bag. As soon as you lay the herbs on the table, he snatches them away. “What do you plan to use those for anyways? They’re hardly common around here.”

“A friend of mine asked me to retrieve them while we were in town. I have no clue what he plans to do with them.” A loud series of footsteps from the entrance grasp your attention.

“San, who’s the new friend?” Seven more men take seats at your table, all but encircling you.

“This would be Eun. He saved my ass from an angry merchant earlier today.” Your eyebrows raise slightly at his informality.

“Have you thanked him properly?”

“I was getting to that before I was so rudely interrupted by you all.” He pauses a second before continuing. 

“Eun, let me introduce my friends. This is Seonghwa.” The blond man who spoke earlier perks up and sends you a calm smile.

 “Hongjoong.” Next to Seonghwa, the man with light brown hair waves politely. 

“Yunho.” The taller man sitting to your left gives a mumbled greeting with a nod of his head.

 “Mingi.” He smiles wide at you from across the table.

 “Yeosang.” He simply raises his hand. 

“Wooyoung.” To Yeosang’s side, a hand waves enthusiastically. 

“And Jongho.” A soft ‘hello’ comes from the last. “We’re passing through Priua on our way to Krae.” Your eyes widen at that information. Krae is a settlement Northeast of here and perhaps a week's travel from Chion. In fact, they would pass through Chion if heading there from Priua. 

“Can I get you men anything to eat or drink?” Jihye stands, observant as ever, in front of your table. Hongjoong raises his hand.

“Eight pints, please.”

“Of course. I’ll be out with those in a moment.” Silence washes over the group.

“I want to join you,” you say. Exclamations of surprise echo around the table.

“Why?” Hongjoong questions immediately. A glance at the others tells you they’re all wondering the same.

“I need to get to Chion. I’m meeting with someone.” The men share a look with each other before Hongjoong continues.

“Why should you join us? What do you have to offer to the group?” Glasses clink on the wooden tabletop as Jihye sets one in front of each of the newcomers. She sends you a charming smile.

“Well, Eun is the best healer in town. Hell, maybe even the country. He’s extremely skilled.” A slight flush rises on your cheeks at the praise and you look away from her gaze.

San leans closer to you and says in a low voice “They must be very important to you for you to travel so far.” You nod. 

“Extremely,” you answer, adorning a determined look.

“So just how good of a healer are you, Eun? Surely you have some stories.” Yeosang asks with a flat expression.

“Aish- Detective Kang back at it again” one of the men murmurs.

“What?” he asks with a glance around the table. “ I want to know more about who we’re dealing with here.” he shrugs.

 Jihye makes her way back to refill everyone’s pints just in time to answer for you. 

“Oh, he’s the best! Once Hyunjin snapped his arm clean in two and Eun here was able to get it back together, healed, and functioning in record time! And one time In-Su got bit by a venomous snake and Eun sucked the venom out! Don’t doubt his abilities, he’s called the best for a reason.” she finished with a stern look at Yeosang.

“That’s good to hear. We could use another healer considering the trouble we’ve had recently.” Hongjoong says, shooting a half-hearted glare at the man to your left.

“It was an accident, I swear!” he exclaims. Seonghwa and Hongjoong whisper to each other for a minute before their attention returns to you.

“I suppose if it’s just to Chion, you can accompany us,” Hongjoong says, extending a hand to you. “Welcome aboard, Eun.” A few cheers and mumbles erupt from the surrounding men at his exclamation. Some of your new companions seem eager to celebrate, with how they’re throwing back ale like there’s no tomorrow.

“We leave Priua tomorrow before dawn, will you be ready? Chion is three weeks away if we’re quick.” Seonghwa asks, eyes searching your own. You give a nod. “Good. We’ll meet in front of this building. Bring all you’ll need.” he says, leaning back into his chair.

[naesarangyunho]

Beans on Toast(3)- Jung Wooyoung (Soulmate au, m! reader)

[i don't own these images credits to the original owners]

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Synopsis: Wooyoung and his friends finally meet y/n and his friends. Wooyoung and San's close friendship sparks jealousy in y/n, magnified by the fact that he has no idea whether he and Wooyoung are platonic or not. We catch a glimpse of Mingi and Yunho's predicament and learn that Seonghwa and San don't have soulmates.

Note: Hongjoong's soulmate's name is Jisoo which is a unisex Korean name and has nothing to do with Joshua from Svt or Jisoo from bp etc.

[Word Count: 4.3k]

"So you found him, huh?" Hongjoong said with a smile from the head of the table.

Y/n hadn't managed to see his friends for a couple of days, with the exception of seeing Jongho straight after having met Wooyoung, and his friend group was finally hanging out and catching up. He had mentioned in the group chat when he found Wooyoung but he hadn’t had a chance to talk about everything in person and avoided talking about it too much. He was a) shy and b) worried that if he overcame his shyness and started talking about Wooyoung he wouldn’t stop. His parents and siblings were already tired of his verbosity despite being very happy for him. (As well as jealous, on his two older siblings’ part as they were yet to find their own soulmates.

"Yeah, I found him," Y/n responded with a blush. Why the hell was he always so flustered when it came to Wooyoung. He got butterflies and behaved like a schoolgirl. He wasn’t usually this way, he would have you know.

"Aww, ma guardati. You’re so flustered." Alessandro teased and Y/n glared at him but there wasn't any real anger in his glare. Like Y/n had said before, it was difficult to stay mad at the Italian boy with his big smile and puppy eyes. He had not only Yeosang but the rest of the group wrapped around his finger.

"No, don’t look at me in any way- I am not flustered."

Jongho snorted, "You totally are."

Y/n’s glare found a new target, landing on Jongho who was leaning back in his chair across from him at the lunch table.

"I am not."

Jongho ignored him and looked at the group at large, "You guys should've seen him when he finally met me in the library."

Jongho leaned forward, his face sparkling with mischief, "He was a mess. He wouldn't shut up about this boy. We couldn't get any work done because he was so restless and kept drifting off."

Yeosang barked out a laugh as he saw the way Y/n's cheeks were burning, "Awww, you’re adorable. Crushing already?"

"Shut up. You guys are ones to talk."

His eyes scanned the faces of his friends with a pointed look.

Jongho was seated next to Minji, his hand resting on her knee under the table and Hongjoong sat close next to Jisoo, his knees pressed against theirs. Jongho and Hongjoong weren't very big on public displays of affection but anyone could see they were in love with their partners if you looked at them long enough.

Yeosang and Alessandro were different. For a while, Yeosang was the same as Jongho and Hongjoong but as time passed Alessandro, whose love language was very much touch, brought him out of his shell and most days they couldn't keep their hands off each other, always finding an excuse to touch in any way whether it be kisses, wandering hands or fingers constantly twined together.

Yeosang and Alessandro currently sat in the two chairs on Y/n’s right and Alessandro had his arm around Yeosang’s shoulders and Yeosang had reached a hand up to hold the hand that hung from his shoulder. Sickeningly sweet.

So yeah, his friends were in no position to tease him for liking someone, especially his soulmate.

"Okay, okay, enough teasing," Hongjoong spoke up, naturally taking the leadership role to keep the group in line.

"When do we get to meet him?" Yeosang piped up and the rest of the group hummed in agreement and looked at him expectantly.

Honestly, a small, selfish part of him wanted to keep Wooyoung to himself for a bit longer. They hadn't seen each other since their Chi-Maek night but they'd been chatting constantly over text and even called twice. Wooyoung loved talking and Y/n loved listening. But at the same time, he also wanted them to meet Wooyoung and see just why he couldn't stop talking about him.

"He wants to meet you guys too but I'm not sure when we-"

"Y/n?" a loud voice called out as if on cue and Y/n's heart jumped- he'd recognise that voice anywhere.

He whipped his head around and he saw Wooyoung walking towards him, a pink-haired man at his side who Y/n could only assume to be Seonghwa.

Huge smiles formed on both Y/n and Wooyoung's faces and Wooyoung waved excitedly before rushing across the university cafeteria towards him, Seonghwa scrambling to keep up with the energetic younger boy.

The minute Wooyoung reached Y/n he bent down from behind Y/n’s chair and smothered him in a hug, burying his face in his neck. The rest of his friend circle’s eyes widened at the ball of affectionate energy that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and had instantly clung to their friend. Y/n's cheeks were warm and he lifted his hands up to grip Wooyoung's arms that were wrapped around his shoulders.

Wooyoung pulled back and slid into the empty seat beside Y/n.

"Hey! I haven't seen you in forever." He whined with a pout and Y/n huffed out a laugh, "It's only been like a week, Wooyoung."

But to be honest, Y/n had missed him just as much.

"Yeah, but after having waited to meet you for how many years now, one week without you is torture."

"Drama queen," Y/n murmured affectionately.

Someone cleared their throats and Y/n looked up and across the table to Hongjoong who he guessed was probably looking for an explanation or introduction.

"Oh, guys, this is Wooyoung." Y/n gestured to the boy clinging to his arm.

Jongho snorted, "We'd figured."

Minji slapped his arm lightly and gave Wooyoung a friendly smile, "Hi, Wooyoung-ssi. We were just talking about you."

"Oh, good things only I hope."

"Oh, yes. We were talking about how Y/n-" Yeosang began but Y/n slapped a hand over his mouth, his face burning and his eyes giving his best friend a pointed don't you dare glower.

"Awww, are you shy? You're always so shy." Wooyoung teased and Y/n's glare moved to him. Wooyoung just laughed and so did the rest of the group.

"Oh, this is Seonghwa." Wooyoung gestured to the handsome man behind him.

"Hey, nice to finally meet you all." He gave them all a gorgeous smile, eyes crinkling up in the corners and Y/n had a feeling that if everyone wasn't already so smitten with their partners they'd have been swooning over him.

The group smiled and introduced themselves and Wooyoung was happy to finally have faces to match to the names and stories he'd heard.

"Oh, you guys are the ones that play soccer, right?" Wooyoung looked over at Jongho and Minji who raised their eyebrows.

"Yeah, why?" Jongho questioned and Wooyoung grinned.

"You guys up for a game?"

"What do you mean?" Minji inquired.

"Well, our friend group is hanging out on the lawn by that one big oak tree and some of us were wanting to kick a ball around this afternoon during lunch."

Seonghwa nodded, "Wooyoung and I just came to get some refreshments for the group before we head over. You guys are welcome to join."

Jongho considered it and so did the rest of the group.

"Sure, why not," Jongho responded and Alessandro nodded in agreement; he played soccer too.

"We were wanting to meet you guys anyways," Jisoo spoke up suddenly. They were always rather quiet so they must be serious if they were speaking up. Y/n watched Hongjoong smile at Jisoo when he caught the excited grin on their face. Jisoo really cared about their friends so it was natural that they wanted to meet the new people in Y/n's life.

"Well, that's settled then." Wooyoung let go of Y/n's arm and stood up.

The rest of the group started gathering their things and standing too. It was a lazy Saturday and no one really had much to do anyways.

"What's settled?" A deep voice suddenly said from behind them.

Y/n turned to find the source and saw a familiar blond man, a plastic spoon hanging from his lips and a small tub of ice cream in one of his large hands.

"Hi, Yunho." Y/n greeted and Yunho instantly smiled back.

"Hey, Y/n. Long time no see, how've you been? Wooyoung hasn't shut up about you."

Y/n turned to look at Wooyoung whose ears had gone red. Y/n reached a hand out and hooked his pinky with Wooyoung's with an amused grin.

"Don't you tease me too." Wooyoung gave him a side-eye.

Y/n laughed, "I wasn't."

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at him before clearing his throat and turning to Yunho.

"Y/n's friends are joining us for lunch."

"Oh? Well, why are we all still standing around? Let's go. I haven't seen Mingi all day."

And then he turned around and promptly walked toward the exit, shoving another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. Seonghwa rolled his eyes and followed him and Y/n wanted to ask who Mingi was again but Wooyoung was already moving, squeezing Y/n's fingers quickly before letting his hand go. Y/n instantly missed his touch and resisted the urge to grab his hand again. He still didn't know exactly where they stood and what he was allowed to do.

Soon enough they all reached the rest of Wooyoung's friend group, two boys sitting in the shade. Yunho immediately made his way over to the larger boy and tackled him in a hug.

"Hi, I've missed you."

Mingi laughed and wrapped an arm around Yunho, ruffling his hair with the other hand, "I saw you this morning at home, you idiot."

Yunho just ignored him and gave him a big smile and puppy eyes. Y/n gave them a questioning look and the other boy on the grass spoke up,

"Yes, soulmates."

Mingi and Yunho looked up, clearly having forgotten there was company.

"Platonic. Platonic soulmates." Mingi rushed out to clarify and Y/n saw the way Yunho's smile faltered and his eyes dimmed a little as he nodded in agreement. Y/n found it strange considering the what could only be described as heart eyes Yunho was giving Mingi but didn't say anything- it wasn't his place.

"You must be Y/n." The boy on the grass stood up, dusting his pants off, and walked over to him with a smile.

He gave him a charming smile and stuck a hand out, "I'm San."

Y/n recalled Wooyoung mentioning that San was his best friend.

He smiled politely and shook his hand, "Nice to meet you."

Wooyoung grinned, happy that his two favourite people were finally meeting.

He reached out and wrapped an arm around San and kissed his cheek, not thinking much of the action but Y/n noticed it and tried to hold back a frown as his heart jolted. Was Wooyoung just touchy with everyone, then?

Just as in the cafeteria, introductions were traded and soon enough conversations were being exchanged. Hongjoong and Jisoo sat down by Seonghwa and started discussing a course they discovered they shared like the boring elders they were. San, Wooyoung, and Y/n sat close together on the grass and Mingi, Yunho, Jongho, Minji, Alessandro and Yeosang (Alessandro had to all but drag him over to them) all began a mini soccer match as promised but Y/n noted that Yunho wasn't as excited about it as before.

"Don't worry, you're not the only one who sees it."

"Hm?" Y/n turned his head in San's direction.

"Yunho and Mingi."

"Oh. I didn't mean to stare or anything and it's not my place to comment either."

"It's okay. Everyone but Mingi seems to realise what's up but we've just learnt to keep our noses out of it."

"Yunho likes Mingi?"

Wooyoung nodded, "They've been best friends since they were little and were so ecstatic to find out they were soulmates. They've known each other for very long- longer than the rest of us have known each other- and it's pretty obvious that Yunho's been in love with him for years."

"Why hasn't he said anything?"

"Tricky situation. You don't want to end up creating a rift between you and your soulmate. He doesn't want to risk losing Mingi. It would hurt like hell." San said and Y/n felt so bad for Yunho. He seemed like the type to completely lose himself in his love for people and Y/n could only imagine how much this must hurt for him.

"This must probably hurt just as much," Y/n murmured.

"Probably, but as much as it has killed us to watch them be like that over the years, it's still not our place to interfere."

"Does everyone in your group have soulmates? If you don't mind me asking." Y/n asked out of curiosity.

San shook his head, "Seonghwa and I still haven't found ours. To be honest, we all thought Wooyoung and I were going to be soulmates."

Y/n felt a pang of unwarranted jealousy and hurt at his words and the way Wooyoung laughed and shoved San affectionately.

"We've known each other since we were around sixteen. We've been pretty inseparable since then so everyone naturally thought that would happen."

San nodded, "It would've made sense but it didn't happen and he has you now."

Y/n tried to smile. From the stories he'd heard about San and how comfortable and affectionate San and Wooyoung were with each other he would've believed you if you'd said they were soulmates. They looked good together too. Both were effortlessly attractive with beautiful smiles and bright eyes that sparkled with mischief. San was a little taller than Wooyoung and the slight size difference looked cute.

It was stupid, he knew it, but Yn couldn't help the feeling of uncertainty and doubt that sparked into existence within his heart.

The spark steadily grew into a flame in the two or so months that followed.

Y/n and Wooyoung's friend groups had effortlessly blended together and it was now common practice for them to all meet up when they could, whether it be lounging about on the lawn at school and kicking around a ball, studying or getting drinks.

Wooyoung and Y/n also hung out a lot outside of the group too, getting dinner together or simply staying in at one of their homes. But more often than not San was around. Wooyoung, San, Yunho and Mingi all shared a three-bedroom flat so it was expected that San would sometimes join in on their movie nights, cuddling against Wooyoung or sitting by his feet. Y/n knew they were best friends, he knew it. But just as Wooyoung and San had said, it was surprising that they weren't soulmates.

And, to make matters worse, as time passed Wooyoung started being just as affectionate and comfortable with Y/n. It sounds like it should be a good thing but it wasn't. Not really. Y/n loved the affection, he wasn't going to deny it, but Wooyoung seemed to be that way with pretty much everyone else so Y/n had no idea what to make of Wooyoung's cuddles and hand-holding. Nor did he know what to do with his cheek kisses or the way he'd nuzzle his face into Y/n's neck as he held him. To be frank, it wasn't good for his heart.

Wooyoung had never kissed him and he'd never dare kiss Wooyoung, already too nervous to properly return his affection and Wooyoung had also never said anything about dates or romance between them in general.

It hurt because it had been nearly three months and Y/n was stupidly in love. He didn't want to end up like Yunho with Mingi but as San said, it was a tricky situation. He didn't want to risk losing Wooyoung or making things awkward between them.

Y/n nearly reached his breaking point when Wooyoung and San announced they were forming a dance duo to compete in an upcoming competition.

Wooyoung was an amazing dancer and Y/n sat in on his dance practises whenever he had the chance and when he started sitting in on San and Wooyoung's practice with each other, the flame in his chest became a fire. San and Wooyoung had such great chemistry and their bodies moved so well together and sometimes Y/n felt like he was third wheeling with them or intruding. Y/n really didn't want to be that toxic guy. The guy that got jealous over their partner's friends but looking at San and Wooyoung he just couldn't help it and couldn't stop himself from wondering if the universe had truly made a mistake. How could he even begin to compare to San?

The music in the dance studio was lowered almost all the way down and Wooyoung came bounding over to Y/n, hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, cheeks flushed and a broad grin on his face.

He threw his arm around Y/n's shoulders, "Hey you~ What do you think? How did I do?"

Y/n smiled softly and petted Wooyoung's arm, "You did well, Woo."

And he wasn't just saying that- Wooyoung truly was an amazing performer.

Wooyoung took a step back and ran a hand through his hair, "You sure? I'm kinda nervous for the competition to be honest. I haven't competed in a hot minute."

Y/n held his hand and gave it a squeeze, "Don't be nervous. You'll be okay. You're-"

He was cut off by San who had made his way over and thrown an arm around Wooyoung, the sudden movement causing Wooyoung's hand to slip out of Y/n's.

"Don't stress, we're gonna kill it! You're an amazing performer."

Wooyoung smiled at his best friend, "Thanks, Sannie. You're just as amazing though."

San bumped his shoulder into Wooyoung's, "No you,"

Wooyoung laughed and shoved San, "No you,"

Y/n watched the exchange with a tight chest and clenched fists. He was being so stupid about this but watching them act like this without knowing how Wooyoung felt about him in the first place hurt and made him horribly jealous.

"Oh," Wooyoung turned to look at Y/n, "What were you going to say, Y/n- (y)ah?"

Y/n shook his head with a tight smile, "Nothing that San hasn't already said.”

"Oh, okay."

Wooyoung was a bit confused and concerned at the way Y/n's mood was declining.

He turned to his best friend, "San-ah, I'll catch up with you later, 'kay?"

San's eyes flicked between Y/n and Wooyoung, sensing some tension in the air and nodded, "Ok."

And then he was gone, grabbing his bag on the way out. Now it was just Y/n and Wooyoung.

Y/n looked at Wooyoung, "Is something up?"

Wooyoung took a step closer to Y/n and placed a warm hand on his arm, "I should be asking you that. You've been…off lately. Especially when San is around. Did something happen? Do you need me to talk to him?"

Y/n was quick to shake his head, "No, San didn't do anything wrong."

"Then what is it?" Wooyoung pressed on, his hand sliding up Y/n's arm to rest on his neck, concern painting his features.

"Nothing. It's stupid- don't worry about it. Just focus on your competition, okay?"

Wooyoung shook his head, "If it's upsetting you this much then it isn't stupid."

Y/n hated the way his throat tightened and tears pricked at his eyes. He felt ridiculous. If you'd told him three months ago that he'd find his soulmate let alone fall deeply in love with them he would have laughed. Yet, here he was, falling completely apart because of the chokehold the soulmate bond had on him, all his feelings for Wooyoung magnified and the thought of Wooyoung not returning those feelings was breaking his heart.

Wooyoung panicked when he saw the tears brimming in Y/n's eyes and he rushed to cup his face in his hands, "No no no, don't cry, jagi. What's wrong? Let me help you."

The sudden term of endearment had Y/n's tears threatening to fall.

"I'm being stupid, Woo. That's all."

"Just tell me, I don't care how stupid you think it is."

Y/n looked at Wooyoung's handsome face and the way his eyebrows were drawn together in concern.

He gulped, "I'm jealous."

"Of what?"

"San. I know he's your best friend and it's dumb of me to be jealous of him but I can't help it. You guys look good together. Even you admitted that you'd thought you would be soulmates."

Wooyoung tenderly stroked Y/n's cheeks with his thumbs, "But we're not soulmates because you were meant for me. You're mine and I'm yours."

I'm yours. Not in the way Y/n wanted him to be.

Tears finally slid past the confines of Y/n's lashes despite his determination not to cry.

Wooyoung looked properly concerned now, "Why are you crying?"

"Are we platonic?" Y/n blurted out.

Wooyoung frowned deeply, "What?"

"Are we platonic soulmates?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Because I love you, Wooyoung and the thought that you might only think of me as a platonic soulmate is killing me inside."

A sob escaped him and he cursed himself for getting this dramatically emotional. Wooyoung just stared at him in shocked silence. It seemed that Y/n wasn't going to get a response so he sniffed, pulled out of Wooyoung's hold and turned to leave. He didn't get very far because Wooyoung grabbed him, turned him back around and crushed their lips together in a kiss.

Y/n froze as his brain lagged for a second but the second it caught up, he held Wooyoung by the back of the neck and kissed him back. Wooyoung held him tight and kissed him tenderly and slowly. After a while, he pulled back to look at Y/n. Y/n's eyes fluttered open and he looked at Wooyoung with flushed cheeks and parted lips.

Wooyoung gave him another soft kiss, "No, we're not platonic soulmates."

Wooyoung hugged Y/n tight and buried his face in his neck. He pressed a small kiss to the skin there, "San and I have known each other for a long time. I love him and he's my best friend. But you're my soulmate, the person literally destined to be mine. How could I not return your feelings?"

He pulled his face to look at Y/n again, "Don't compare yourself to San. Or anyone else for that matter, okay? My love language is touch and I'm clingy, I know. But my love for you is different from my love for my friends and family."

He reached up and gently stroked Y/n's hair from his face, I might hug and hold onto everybody all the time but you're the only person I want to kiss and touch. There's only you."

Y/n finally reacted, blushing at his words and burying his face in Wooyoung's neck. Wooyoung chuckled and stroked his hair.

"My shy baby," He cooed.

Y/n tightened his hold on Wooyoung's waist, "I'm yours. Only yours."

Wooyoung smiled and kissed his hair, "Good to know since as you know I do bite."

That earned a chuckle from Y/n.

Wooyoung stroked his back in soothing circles and Y/n just basked in the comfort of his arms for a while.

Eventually, he pulled back to look at Wooyoung again, "Thank you for putting me out of my misery."

"You make it sound like I killed you."

Y/n just smiled and shyly pressed a kiss to Wooyoung's lips, "Am I allowed to do this now?"

"What, kiss me?"

Y/n nodded.

Wooyoung gave him a soft peck on the lips, "Of course you can. Anytime and anywhere you want. You don't need to ask, jagiya."

Y/n's cheeks flushed at the term of endearment that so casually rolled off Wooyoung's tongue and Wooyoung gave him a cheeky grin.

"Awww, why are you blushing now, cutie? Do you like it when I call you jagiya?"

Y/n just stared at him with flushed cheeks and Wooyoung kissed him again, "You're so adorable."

Wooyoung reached around Y/n to pick his bag up and slung it over his shoulder. He took Y/n's hand and slotted his fingers between his.

He kissed Y/n's cheek, "Come home with me, jagiya. We can order in and watch that new movie you were telling me about yesterday.”

Y/n finally smiled- he was so relieved. He squeezed Wooyoung's fingers, "Okay, but you need to shower first."

Wooyoung smirked, "Will you be joining me?"

Y/n's heart jolted and his blush returned. He slapped Wooyoung's arm, "In your dreams!"

Wooyoung threw his head back and laughed. Y/n rolled his eyes and tugged Wooyoung toward the exit.

Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows at him, "You're eager, aren't you? Are you sure you're not planning on taking me up on my offer?"

Two could play at this game, "Maybe if you're a good boy tonight."

Wooyoung raised his eyebrows and smirked, "Promise?"

Y/n had no comeback so he just ignored Wooyoung who started laughing again. Y/n smiled to himself; it felt good to have things clarified and back to normal.

[acciocriativity]

Hey there, my loves!! 👋👋

I've been wondering when I'm gonna make a big project here for Ateez, since I'm already doing one for HP. Soooooo, I have a couple ideas and I'd love your opinions on it!

I'm going to write all of these eventually, but I'm open for other ideas or suggestions, so be my guest in the comments!

[callmeagardengnome]

˚ʚ taste of you ɞ˚ | PARK SEONGHWA

pairings ᯓ idol!seonghwa x mukbanger!fem!reader

genre ᯓ soulmate au, one-shot

synopsis ᯓ as someone who does mukbangs for a living, you aren’t a stranger to extreme flavours or massive portions. however, it seems that your soulmate feels otherwise.

c.w ᯓ seonghwa is downbadd and a lil kissity kiss at the end 😗

w.c ᯓ 2.7k

author’s note: sorry for the delay! FYI i am NOT consistent in my uploads so please be patient w me ;-;

not proofread!

masterlist

you love food. ever since you were young, you found so much joy in eating. so imagine how happy you felt when you found about about your soulmark.

it all started when you were six. you were trying to eat your favourite ice cream, expecting to taste something sweet. however, as you took a bite, you were met with a rich and savoury taste instead. confused, you ran to your parents, trying to describe what just happened.

as you told them, your parents exchanged a look with each other. they sat you down and explained to you gently, “‘____’, that’s your soulmark.” you tilted your head, still not understanding them.

“it means that you can taste whatever your soulmate is eating or drinking.” they continued. “and it works the other way too.”

when turned you 16, you started to get more creative with the foods you ate. they became more sour, spicier. with the creation of your mukbang channel on youtube, you shared your love of weird foods with your audience.

your channel grew quickly, with hundreds of thousands of subscribers enjoying your content of devouring the world’s hottest peppers to bizarre snacks.

seonghwa, however, was not as happy as them. was his soulmate trying to torture him?

as a trainee, he was put on a strict diet. the intense flavours he faced out of nowhere made it difficult for him to focus. he felt annoyed that his soulmate was eating well while he was eating basically nothing. not only that, the food you ate weren’t the most pleasant to enjoy.

from the spicy noodles that left his mouth burning, to the sour foods that turned his tongue dry, these flavours hit him at the most inconvenient of times.

one afternoon, while practicing a difficult dance routine, seonghwa suddenly tasted an overwhelming spicy flavour. he stumbled, clutching his throat and coughed violently. his fellow trainees quickly handed him a bottle of water, wondering why he suddenly started to choke on seemingly nothing.

“are you okay?” hongjoong asked, sitting next to him.

“yeah, it’s just my soulmate again…” seonghwa muttered, chugging the water, finishing it. his frustration grew as the spiciness got stronger. “i’m going to buy a drink,” he told the other trainees. he ran to a nearby convenience store, buying a small carton of milk and drank it hurriedly.

on the other side of the screen, you were doing a live mukbang, blissfully unaware of the chaos your soulmate was going through. just as you were about to take another bite of the spicy chicken you were eating, you tasted.. milk? you chuckled, realising the hell you caused for your other half. “my soumate’s drinking milk right now,” you grinned at the camera, relishing in the heat.

“sorry soulmate, but this one’s for you,” you winked before taking a bite of the chicken.

seonghwa felt the burn again and groaned, wondering if he would ever get used to the flavour assaults. despite the irritation, seonghwa found himself curious about the person on the other side of this bond. what were you like? why do you keep eating crazy foods?

over a few years, the foods that you ate became milder. you wanted to give both you and your soulmate’s tastebuds a break. you moved on to more delicious, mouth watering foods - ones that made seonghwa’s jealousy skyrocket.

once he became an idol, his strict diet barely changed. and with your new food-eating habits, it led to seonghwa finding ways to curb his cravings. he started to eat in secret, desperately trying to match the flavours he tasted through his soulmark.

but then, he found you. one evening, he suddenly tasted buldak noodles and sighed. the love-hate relationship between him and his soulmark was getting tiring. he decided to scroll through food videos on youtube to hopefully control his growing appetite, and then, he came across your mukbang channel.

you were live streaming at the time, eating a big batch of buldak noodles. his heart skipped a beat as he watched you take a bite, the exact same flavours bursting on his tongue. it was exactly what he needed at the time.

seonghwa watched the live, captivated, seeing you gulp down the food that he longed to eat. not to mention that you were insanely pretty too. the way you smiled and talked to your viewers charmed him. as he continued to watch, seonghwa found himself drawn not just to the food, but to you as well, in a way he couldn’t explain.

he soon became a very big fan of you, tuning in to any livestream that he could. he saw you as a life-saver, a hero. it was as if you knew what he was craving most.

a few weeks go by and ATEEZ were resting in their living room after a tiring concert. wooyoung leaned over seonghwa’s shoulder, noticing that he was watching your livestream again. “hyung, what’s so good about her?” he asked, a smirk spread on his face.

seonghwa glanced up. “i don’t know..” he mumbled, trying to find the right words. “she’s always eating the foods i crave the most..”

a chorus of ‘huh?’s filled the room. hongjoong straightened his back. “what do you mean by that?” he asked.

“it’s like-“ seonghwa sighed. “you guys know what my soulmark is right? my soulmate eats good food, and then i crave it. watching ‘____’ helps.”

the room fell silent as they processed seonghwa’s words. mingi spoke up, “so you’re saying that whatever you taste, ‘____’ is somehow eating the same thing at the same time?”

“uhuh..” seonghwa nodded slowly, before his eyes widened in realisation. “wait- did i just find my soulmate?” he blurted out.

jongho hit him on the head lightly. “ya! i thought you were smarter than this,” he laughed.

seonghwa leaned back into the couch he was sitting on, taking in the new revelation. his mind was racing with the thought of you - it all made sense now. the way the food you ate matched his own cravings, the way he was instantly drawn to you the first time he watched you, it felt like a puzzle piece had finally clicked into place. he turned back to his phone, you were still chatting happily with your viewers. seonghwa couldn’t help but smile.

yunho nudged him. “what are you going to do now that you’ve found her?” he asked with a grin.

“i..” seonghwa trailed off. what was he going to do? it’s not like he could text you and claim that he was your soulmate. that was a one-way ticket to getting blocked. not only that, ATEEZ was still on tour, which meant that the chances of him actually meeting you was low.

“you don’t need to rush it, hyung,” yeosang reassured him. “at least you know who she is, right?”

taking a deep breath, seonghwa nodded. he knew that yeosang was right, there was no point in rushing things. a feeling of peace settled over him. for now, he could put full focus into the tour and rehearsals.

˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆˚ʚɞ ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

“wait- what?” you exclaimed, shocked at the news that you heard. with the huge success of your channel, companies reached out to you, hoping to promote their products or shows. however, a certain offer stood out to you.

you were given the chance to host a youtube series. this opened up a whole door of possibilities. the offer involved you interviewing different celebrities and idols while eating crazy and insane foods together. it was like a dream come true, eating and talking to celebrities? who wouldn’t want that?

you quickly agreed to the offer and the production for the show started. ‘DINING WITH ‘____’’ blew up almost immediately. fans enjoyed watching you talking to idols while you struggled to eat the weird food combinations. your genuine interactions with the guests made each episode a delight to watch.

meanwhile, seonghwa was freaking out. he never expected to see you hosting a show like this, let alone be sharing meals with idols. with the new ATEEZ album coming out, the chances of him being invited on the show was quite high, but he shouldn’t get his hopes up. “if you want to go on the show so much, then just go?” jongho said, confused.

seonghwa groaned. “i don’t want to push it.. what if she doesn’t like the idea- what if she doesn’t like me?”

“tsk, i’ll just go with you,” wooyoung said, grabbing seonghwa by the arm. “come on, let’s beg our company to let us go.”

the idea of meeting you in person excited and terrified him. he and wooyoung successfully convinced their company to arrange an appearance. seonghwa started to (embarrassingly) practice what he might say or do when he meets you for the first time.

and then, finally, the day arrived. ATEEZ finally had a break in their schedule and the two idols made their way over to your studio. the set bustled with activity as crew members prepared for filming. seonghwa felt anxiety rising in his stomach.

as you were getting ready, you passed by the two ATEEZ members you were supposed to interview. you smiled at them, saying a quick, “fighting!” before heading over to makeup and hair station.

you didn’t notice the way seonghwa crumbled, or how he started to hit wooyoung out of shock. wooyoung pretended to be in pain, trying to lighten the mood.

“you got this,” wooyoung chuckled, patting seonghwa on the back. “just be yourself, she seems nice.”

seonghwa breathed out, trying to calm himself down. he watched you move gracefully around the set, interacting with the crew and preparing for the shoot. your presence only increased his nervousness.

the crew called everyone to gather to begin the shoot. seonghwa watched you position yourself in front of the camera, the lights shining on your smile as you introduced the both of them.

every step closer to you felt surreal, the butterflies in his stomach rising. he tried to focus on your welcoming demeanour as he sat opposite you.

“-we have seonghwa and wooyoung from ATEEZ! how are the both of you feeling today?” you turned to them.

seonghwa couldn’t even believe that you knew his name. he quickly composed himself. “uh- hi,” he said with a nervous smile. “we’re good, just excited to be here.”

wooyoung smiled brightly. “yeah, super excited! thanks for having us,” he added.

“glad to hear it! we have lots of spicy dishes to try today, so let’s dive right in.” you said before three plates of food came out.

seonghwa glanced at wooyoung, who gave him a thumbs up. as you took a bite, seonghwa tasted the familiar flavour on his tongue. it felt strange knowing that he was tasting the same things as you were.

throughout the shoot, you kept the conversation flowing, asking about their tour and album. seonghwa soon found himself slowly relaxing in your presence.

“so, seonghwa,” you began, catching the idol’s attention. “are the shy member of ATEEZ?” you asked.

seonghwa chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. “uhhh-”

“he’s actually quite talkative,” wooyoung interjected, looking between you and seonghwa. “but he’s extra shy now because he’s a fan of you.”

“really?” you said in shock, putting down your chopsticks. “seonghwa you’re a fan of me?”

seonghwa felt his cheeks heat up. “yeah..” he admitted. “i’ve been watching your mukbangs for a while now.”

you laughed, feeling flattered that a famous idol was a fan of you. there was an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, one that felt more than just being on a show together.

as the shoot continued, you noticed seonghwa stealing glances at you. you brushed it off, not wanting to come across as ‘delusional’.

“do you guys want any drinks?” you asked the idols. “we have water, juice, milk and coffee.”

“milk,” seonghwa said, trying to keep his voice steady as his mouth burned from the spice.

“i’ll take a coffee,” wooyoung replied.

you passed the two men their drinks and continued talking to them about their idol life. seonghwa started to drink the milk, and just then, you tasted it too. your eyes widened in surprise, was this a coincidence?

wooyoung tilted his head. “are you alright?”

you gathered your composure and quickly nodded. maybe it was just a coincidence. however, your assumption was destroyed immediately when seonghwa and wooyoung switched drinks, and you tasted the bitter coffee go down your throat.

trying to keep yourself calm, you asked, “so how do you guys manage your diets while on tour?”

the both of them started to talk about their meal plans and schedules, but you found it hard to focus. every sip that seonghwa took confirmed your suspicions.

the rest of the shoot passed by in a blur, your thoughts constantly returning back to seonghwa and your soulmark. as the final scene wrapped up and the crew began packing, you decided to rip the bandaid off and talk to seonghwa.

you approached the idol, who was talking to wooyoung and other crew members. “hey, can i talk to you for a second?” you asked.

seonghwa looked surprised but nodded, “yeah- of course.”

you led him to a quieter corner of the set. “i need to ask you something a little personal,” you began nervously. “what’s your soulmark?”

his eyes widened. “you figured it out too?”

“what?” you furrowed your brows. “what do you mean by ‘figured it out’?”

“it’s just that-“ seonghwa coughed out as he ran his fingers through his hair. “there was a slight chance that we were soulmates. every time i tasted something, you happened to be eating the very same thing on stream. that may or may not be the reason why i wanted to come on the show.”

your heart raced as you heard his words. “so, you knew?”

“kind of, but today just confirmed it,” seonghwa replied.

the both of you stood in silence, trying to process your emotions.

“hold on,” you spoke up. you reached into your pocket and unwrapped a piece of candy that you had before popping it into your mouth. “what flavour is this?” you questioned, trying to test your soulmark.

seonghwa watched you, a small smile on his lips. “…cherry,” he answered.

“oh shit-“ you mumbled. “i can’t believe that this is happening..”

he chuckled softly, his gaze unwavering. “i guess we’re soulmates.”

you couldn’t even find the right words to say. you were basically speechless, and so was seonghwa. he led the both of you to a nearby seat so that you wouldn’t get tired.

seonghwa’s hand found yours, holding onto it gently. his touch was warm and reassuring, something that you needed. neither of you spoke for a while, the both of you were simply taking in each other’s presence.

after a few moments of comfortable silence, seonghwa broke it, keeping his voice soft. “i never imagined that i would find you like this,” he said, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

you managed to give a small smile, still overwhelmed by what you have just discovered. “well, i never thought that i would meet my soulmate on a mukbang show of all places,” you replied.

seonghwa nodded in agreement, his eyes never leaving yours. he still couldn’t believe that this wasn’t a dream. “i’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” he said, leaning closer.

you felt your heart quicken as he leaned in. “may i?” he asked softly. you nodded hurriedly, mumbling a faint ‘yes’. his lips brushed against yours, a soft and tender kiss sharing your feelings. suddenly, a burst of flavours appeared as you kissed. the both of you tasted flavours from sweet to savoury, each flavour becoming more intense with each second.

seonghwa pulled back slightly, surprise obvious in his eyes. “did you taste that too?” he breathed, his fingers caressing your cheek.

you nodded, smiling widely at your soulmate. he brushed a strand of hair from your face and looked at you with adoration and disbelief.

“we have so much to talk about,” seonghwa whispered, tracing his thumb along the curve of your jaw.

any and all feedback appreciated <3

other fics

series taglist [OPEN] - @cara-rey @hwasbabygirl @chngbnwf @passerbyforfun

[ldysmfrst]

Incomplete (2) - A Soulmate in Los Angeles

Paring: Ateez OT8 x Plus-sized FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 2 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 7,218

Word count for Story: 10,594

Genre: Idol Soulmate AU

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This story will contain a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter contains a discussion of a family death (Hwa's grandpa) and y/n has an injury.

Story Summary: Ateez are soulmates who earned their way to Fame once they found each other. What happens when a new pull comes during their Towards The Light World Tour? Does 8 really make 1?

INCOMPLETE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

The van ride back to the hotel was quieter than usual. At Seonghwa’s insistence, they all piled into the same van for the short ride. He felt lost because he could not find who was pulling them and was still mourning his grandfather. Keeping his soulmates close by helped ease that feeling.

Mingi and Yunho took the captain's chairs in the front because they could get more room by locking them in the rear-facing mode and pushing them against the driver and passenger seats. Ever the cuddler, Mingi pulled Yeosang into his lap.

Wooyoung sat in the middle row on San’s lap to comfort his closest soulmate, who was still upset about not pinning the pull. 

The youngest, Jongho, opted to sit next to San and Wooyong but tangled his legs with Yunho’s to create a connection with his tallest soulmate.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa sit at the very back of the van. Seonghwa's eyes glisten with emotions as the feeling of the pull disappears during the send-off. 

“Hongjoong-ah… you didn’t feel anything? No pull? No scents? Nothing?” questions Seonghwa in hushed tones, trying to keep his voice from trembling with the mixed emotions he is getting through the bond.

Sighing, Hongjoong pulls his only older soulmate into his arms, “Honestly, my love, I didn’t feel anything during the show, but during the send-off… I smelt pine trees. Like a whole forest full, but they were burning with a smoldering scent.”

“That could have been someone with a lit fireplace, hyung,” comments Jongho.

“I thought that too, but it was coming from inside the stadium,” Hongjoong continued. “There was a group of Atiny walking up the stands around where San had paused in his pinning. I swear it came from them. Unfortunately, they were being rushed out, so it didn’t stay for long.”

“Excuse me, Sirs? We are here,” the driver announced. 

Once the boys had entered the hotel, the manager pulled Hwa, Hongjoong, San, and Mingi into a conference room to discuss their findings.

“Be clear with me,” the manager started. “I need to know what happened out there today. San’s crowd walking is already trending everywhere. Seonghwa, almost crying during the send-off, is raising questions about his mental health and the passing of his grandfather. Don’t even get me started with Mingi ‘being forced to dance while limping.’ What is going on?”

The soulmates look at each other, unsure of what more to say or how to start. Clearing his throat, Seonghwa takes a deep breath and gathers his thoughts.

“Manager-nim, do you remember the private talk we had during Coachella?” asks Seonghwa, gaining concerned looks from his soulmates when the manager nods in agreement.

“Hwa..” begins San, but Mingi shakes his head.

“After we filmed for Work here in Los Angeles, I felt like something was missing. At first, I thought the exhaustion from the shoot was getting to me when I felt the tightness in my chest. I even told the choreographers about maybe changing things until one of them convinced me I could do it.”

“I remember that. They said something like, “The Seonghwa I know could make it,” and then you had a new drive in you to prove yourself,” commented Hongjoong. “I was so proud of you when you pulled it off.”

“Thank you, but that tightness stuck with me. Even when we went back home.” Looking around at his soulmates, he continues, “Since no one else seemed to feel the same or recognize a pull, I went to manager-nim again, and he told me to take it easy and focus on Hush Hush since Coachella went so well.”

“Hyung, why didn’t you come and talk to us?” questions Mingi.

“We could have helped in LA. We walked around with you to see if anyone else could pick something up, Hyung,” whined San. 

“Mingi, San. Now is not the time,” scolded Hongjoong. Turning his attention to the manager, he said, “Thank you for listening to Hwa and guiding him during that time, manager-nim.”

“You're welcome. I would have said something, but Seonghwa-ssi didn’t want to worry anyone with the new collaboration and the tour coming up.” Looking at Hwa, the manager asked, “Do you think this is that same pull?”

“I do. I think we might have a soulmate in Los Angeles.”

The room is filled with silence. Each soulmate pulls into themselves, trying to find clues to help prove Hwa’s assumption because none of them don’t believe him. They worry about how their missing soulmate feels and how to tell the others that there is one.

Soft whimpers break the stillness as a wave of guilt floods out of San, “How are we going to find them now? I couldn’t find them tonight, and LA is huge. We could look for days, weeks, or months and never find them. My pinning abilities didn’t work!”

Quickly, Seonghwa pulls San into his lap, “Sannie, you did so well tonight and on such short notice. You were able to find out the pull was coming from C2.”

“Did you say C2?” inquires the manager.

“Yeah, why?” presses Hongjoong. “Is there something special about that section?”

Flipping through his cell phone, the manager pulls up an email from BMO and KQ. Reading over it briefly, the manager grins, “Yes, actually. It turns out that the BMO event staff misdirected C2, C3, and C4 to the wrong entry gate, causing many of them to miss BE:FIRST and the start of the show.”

Narrowing his eyes at the manager, Hongjoong asks through gritted teeth, “How is making our Atiny miss the show something to smile about?”

Still smiling, “They all got complimentary tickets to the Grammy Museum. They are only good for the next 48 hours.”

A wash of confusion comes over the members.

“But we have the Hello82 event tomorrow and another show. How does that help?” prods Hongjoong with growing irritation.

“Easy. The Hello82 event is ticketed and set for the late morning, and the call time for the show isn’t until 4 p.m. So, instead of returning to the hotel to rest, you could always drop by the Grammy Museum to check out your exhibition,” offers the manager.

“How is that even?” Hongjoong starts. 

“Wait a minute, Joongie,” Seonghwa interrupts. “Hello82 doesn’t start till 11:30 am. If we can convince Yunho to leave an anchor and Wooyoung to scent-mark the Museum before it opens, we might be able to trigger our soulmate’s ability or at least cause them to linger in the area.”

“Woo would do it! He already said he would help me in any way I thought,” San excitedly says, gaining a smile on his face with his now tear-puffed eyes.

Nodding in agreement, a pensive face comes over Mingi: “Yunho is always leaving anchors for us, so I am sure he wouldn’t mind leaving one to find our new mate, but I am not sure if either of our bears actually believe we have a new soulmate.”

Once the plans were set in motion, the soulmates retired for the night in their respectful rooms. Unlike what most Atiny thought, they were not paired up in their couplings because their soulmate abilities kind of blocked that when they were on tour.

Seonghwa’s ability to receive emotions from his soulmates makes sleeping difficult, as the others unknowingly share their dreams, nightmares, and worries throughout the day with him. This is why he bunks with Jongho. His ability allows him to influence others' emotions, and unlike the rest of the members, he doesn’t express his emotions when sleeping because he ends up acting as a barrier. This feels like a cocoon of comfort and relaxation for the eldest soulmate.

Hongjoong could scent his soulmates, each a different version of a pine tree. He was so attuned to them that he could act like one of those Alphas in Atiny’s fanfics and hunt down each member. Luckily, his match was Wooyoung and his lovely Mugo pine scent, which reminded the Captain of Christmas. As any Atiny would know, Wooyoung’s personality and love language is touch, but what they assumed was the need for skinship was Woo’s using his ability to leave his scent behind on his soulmates. 

Yunho and Yeosang found balance with each other. Yunho eased Yeosang's tension, which was caused by Yeosang’s ability to pull his soulmates close. By placing his anchor on Yeosang’s soul, Yunho effectively allowed Yeo to latch on to him and only him. During their sleep, it was like they created their own universe when it was just the two of them latching on to each other physically and metaphysically. 

That left San and Mingi. While San could pin onto each of his soulmates, almost like an internal GPS, and Mingi could use his ability to feel what his soulmates were feeling physically, neither of their abilities was constantly active. The two didn’t need a counterpart to relax, so they would either share a room or take turns bunking with another set during the tours. 

When San joined KQ, the vibrations from Hongjoong, Yunho, and Mingi were so strong that it was easy to find them huddled in a recording studio. It was like being a dolphin and using echolocation to find them. After that, it was almost like the others started gravitating toward them, which made it easy.

Mingi only felt his mates' physical emotions when they became overwhelming. Sometimes, he could tell when it was getting to that point, and instead of waiting for the overflow, he would absorb the feelings: pain, anger, hopelessness, all of it.

After a night's rest and an early breakfast, the boys gathered in the same conference room. This time, a few of their personal bodyguards, who knew about the soulmate bond, and the manager joined them.

“Now that everyone is here, we have something essential to talk about,” Hongjoong started, then looked to Seonghwa to explain.

After retelling the story of the Music Video Work issues and what they had discussed last night, he said, “We have to find our missing part.”

“Why are you looking at me?” Jongho spoke up with a firm voice, eyeing Mingi, who hadn’t stopped watching him since the meeting started. 

Mingi’s ears turn pink after being caught. Darting his eyes away from his youngest soulmate, he replies, “You… you haven’t said much since all of this started, neither has Yunho, and I am concerned that you guys won’t be on board.”

“Mingi is right. You even dismissed Joong-hyung from the van last night, Jongho-ah,” Wooyoung comments before turning to Yunho. “Why are you so quiet? Do you think Hwa-hyung is wrong?”

“I never said he was wrong. I never said any of you were wrong but I wonder why Yeosang-hyung hasn’t felt the pull yet, that is all,” Yunho answers.

When this name is mentioned, Yeosang gets pulled out of his thoughts. Looking around the table, he smiles softly, “I don’t think I haven’t.”

This shocks everyone at the table. A flurry of questions gets thrown at the 99-liner.

“My loves, wait a minute. Let me explain, please.” After the questions die down and a simple nod from Hwa, Yeosang continues, “With each of you, I feel this thick and solid rope like a Mooring line attached to each of you that I can tug on. Plus, when we found each other, there wasn’t an entire stadium between us.”

“You feel another one of these mooring lines?” asks Jongho.

“No, I don’t, but I felt something like a plaited silk rope slip around me when we said good night, and it felt good,” Yeosang says, smiling to himself as he recalls the feeling. “However, because manager-nim had instructed me and others to concentrate on the other side of the stage, it slipped off. Then I couldn’t find it again, so I chalked it up to being excited about ending an amazing show.”

“Now do you think that anymore?” pushes Jongho.

Shaking his head, Yeo replies, “It has to be our soulmate. I looked it up on my phone after Yuyu fell asleep. Others with the same ability in group bonds say that the pull can feel different because it tends to be gender specific.”

A resounding “WHAT” fills the room as shock takes over everyone. Each soulmate’s mind reels with this new information. Adding another soulmate was a challenge, but having a woman soulmate, a lady to pamper, and a female to connect with was its own obstacle.

San felt almost relieved because this could explain why his pinning wasn’t working well. Once he pinned the section, he was only pinning towards the male Atinies. He had used a more resounding, darker melody with each of his bonded mates, almost like something from Pirates of the Caribbean. 

“Yunho,” Mingi called his twin tower. “Do you remember asking about my back because I was limping?”

“Yeah, you have been having problems with it for a while now. Why?”

“I was still limping last night after the show-up until about time for the send-off. I am starting to think our soulmate has an injury,” states Mingi.

Concern floods into Seonghwa from all of his soulmates. Grabbing Jungho quickly to stop himself from breaking into tears, he asks, “You mean she was in pain while watching the concert? How could she have enjoyed being there if she was overflowing in pain?”

“I don’t think it was that bad the entire time,” Mingi contemplates. “I think the pain for me started even before the sound check. It was dull and throbbing, but there was nothing too much until we went on, and it got intense. I am sure that is why Yunho noticed me limping.”

“How come I couldn’t feel her pain, too? If it was that bad I should have felt something,” worries Seonghwa. 

“Hwa, my love. Maybe she was so happy to see us that the pain was only physical,” Hongjoong attempts to console his ever-caring mate.

“Don’t be so self-centered, Joong. Our mate was in severe physical pain!”

“Seonghwa-hyung,” says Jongho, cupping Hwa’s face and pulling his attention to him while pushing calming notes and dampening the rest of the room. “She could have used pain medication to help keep it tolerable. If anything, I would wager we have a stubborn, independent, and intelligent lady for a soulmate, hum?”

“You think so?” implores Hwa. The feeling of failing to care for a new soulmate he has never seen slowly subsides at the youngest’s words.

“I don’t think so. I know so because only a woman like that will be able to handle a bonded group like us,” teases Jongho.

With murmurs and remarks of agreement coupled with chuckles, the tension in the form finally releases. 

“So now what do we do?” asks Yunho. “How are we going to find this ladymate?”

“That is where you and Wooyoung come in,” pipes up the manager. 

“I’ll do it!” agrees Wooyoung almost before the manager finishes talking, again pulling chuckles from the room.

“Last night, there was backlash about how BMO misdirected Atiny to sections C2, C3, and C4,” the manager puts his hands up before anyone can start chiming in. “They have rectified their mistake by giving them tickets to the Grammy Museum, which will be available only for the next 48 hours.”

“But we will be at Hello82,” confronts Wooyoung.

“Yes, Wooyoung-ssi. But that isn’t until after 11 am, which means, if we leave now, we can stop by the Grammy Museum, where Yungho can leave anchors and Wooyoung can scent mark the area. Then after we leave Hello82, we all can go back and see if anyone is waiting before you have to report back to BMO.”

“But what if she leaves before we get there or comes after we leave? What if she doesn’t come at all? She might have been one of those non-stan friends that just went to have fun. It doesn’t mean she will come to the museum,” worries Wooyoung.

Pulling Wooyoung into his lap, San holds him close, saying, “My baby, you knew Yeosang was your soulmate before the two of you found us, right?”

Wooyoung nodded and went to speak, only for San to grip his neck, effectively silencing him as he continued, “She has to feel something from last night. No matter if she was a fan or not. Having a bonded group the size of ours is not something easily resisted. Like Little Bear said, she is a smart cookie, and I am sure her curiosity about or love for us will push her to come to the museum at some point today.”

“Now be a good boy and go with our Big Bear to help us find our missing lady-mate,” San orders with a kiss to Wooyoung’s temple. 

With San’s orders, the meeting wraps up rather quickly. Everyone but Wooyoung and Yunho pile into the main van to head up the Hello82, while the manager, two personal bodyguards, and WooYu head to the museum. 

Being the ever-efficient manager that he is, the museum waits for their arrival and ushers them inside quickly. Then, the museum directs the group up the elevator to the correct floor. It still sends a fluttering feel through the idols to see their stuff on display for any Atiny to come and see. 

Stopping in front of their exhibit, the attendant looks around. “Mr. Jung, you can go ahead. The museum has already been informed that you need to make contact with the different pieces, we just ask that you refrain from touching non-Ateez related items.”

With that, Wooyoung takes off with a bodyguard, touching everything and doing anything he can. Of course, he leaves heavier markers on his personal items on display.

“There aren’t places to sit down and wait around here. Are there, miss?” Yunho asks with a frown.

She shakes her head and states, “This museum isn’t like most. People spend maybe an hour looking at everything before they might make a purchase downstairs and leave. We have thought about finding a bigger venue but not yet.”

Disappointment blooms in Yunho’s chest. How can he make an anchor for his ladymate with an injured foot when she must stand the whole time? Taking his time walking around all their old stuff, he notices someone turning on a TV screen that shows the making of their music videos, then walks around another wall where he hears rather loud talking. 

His curiosity peaks as he follows the worker to find a documentary playing to celebrate the 40th anniversary of Michael Jackson’s mini-movie music video Thriller…with backless benches!

“Woo! Wooyoung!” called Yunho, surprising his soulmate.

“Yeah? What is it, Yunho?” he asks, coming around the same corner. “Oh, isn’t that the famous King of Pop guy?”

“Huh? Oh yes but here. Benches. I can leave the anchor here,” remarks Yunho, no longer caring about the video.

Looking down at the benches, Wooyoung has a befuddled look on his face. “Really? This is an entirely different exhibit.”

“I know that but if she is really our soulmate, she has to have an interest in music. Anyone who is anyone that loves music would want to at least look at the rest of the exhibits on this level plus its a famous video. Also, if she is hurt like Mingi says then she will need to sit down and this is the only place to sit on this level.”

“Valid. I guess this will work. Maybe you can leave another anchor on the first floor at the gift shop, too? Maybe it will cause her to linger here for longer?” 

“That is a good idea, too. Okay, let me anchor here while you finish up, and then we will anchor and scent the same spot on the first floor.”

Closing his eyes, Yunho reaches into his soul and pushes down. Down from his head, down through his heart to his feet, and latches onto the floor. Most of the world doesn’t understand what it takes to set an anchor for soulmates with the ability to anchor. The anchor must leave three things behind a piece of their soul, mind, and heart. 

Once he is done, Yunho heads back to the elevator and heads back down with everyone. Stepping out of the elevator, they notice people have started to line up outside. Dawning their masks and bucket hats, Wooyoung and Yunho get to work quickly, choosing a place near their merch to scent and anchor before slipping out the back and heading off to Hello82.

The Hello82 event is a blur for Ateez. They try really hard to be in the now and not in the shoulda, coulda, woulda's of the past or the gonna, needas, and bettas of the future. Seonghwa even goes as far as pretending to be a stan and gets signatures from the rest of the band. 

It feels like an eternity before they say goodbye to the fantastic Atiny attending the event and head to the Grammy Museum. It amazes them every time they hold these events at how packed the rooms are and the stans that just hang outside for a glimpse. The ride is filled with chatter about the outfits they saw Atiny wear.

Hongjoon mentions that he can smell pine, but it is incredibly faint and could have been a cleaning product or the scent that had lingered from the day before. None of the rest had gotten any hints that their missing ladymate had attended the event, which put them on edge and filled their heads with what-ifs.

Again, the museum staff knew Ateez would be coming, but they had been instructed to refrain from making announcements or attempting to draw a crowd. They entered through a rear entrance and stood in a stock room, waiting for their manager or a museum attendant to take the lead.

It’s not until Hongjoon takes a deep breath that he smells it and says, “Pine, it's here and still kinda burnt. It’s different from anyone here but close to Mingi’s Maritime Pine. I can’t tell how fresh it is from here. Let’s go in groups. Yunho and Jongho, come with Hwa and I. Yeo, Mingi, Wooyoung go together. San, I know you can pin better when you are on your own, is that good?”

With agreements all around, San heads out first, followed by Mingi’s group and the last is Captain’s group. 

San’s ability to find unique vibrations and sounds that non-pinning soulmates can’t hear or feel helps with their music and keeps everyone on tempo. It's hard to hear the resonance of a new soulmate ring back in a venue like BMO. Getting to the correct floor, San is grateful that there are not many people present. However, the lack of people also worries him.

Reaching within himself, San finds a new tune, a lifting melody, to ping out. It's like a sea shanty and hopefully will resonate with the missing ladymate. 

Nothing. 

Moving towards the farther side of the exhibition, he tries again.

Nothing.

With a frustrated sigh, San promises to find the ladymate and acknowledge the red thread that binds them all. Hongjoong said pine was here, which means the missing mate was in this building at some point since scents can flow through the vents, unlike his pinning. For it to work, a direct path must be open between San and his new soulmate.  

Looking up at the elevator doors as they open, San shakes his head to alert Mingi, who stepped out first, that he wasn’t getting anything. Pointing to the stairs, the other two mates nod in understanding and watch San head to a lower floor.

Wooyoung, at this point, feels useless in helping any more than he has. He just hoped that his scent caused the ladymate to linger. The longer she stayed, the higher chance she was still here and would react to another ability within the bonded group.

Mingi is in the same boat. He always hated that he gained one of the passive abilities of the mate bonds. With how helpless he felt about it earlier in their career, he had taken a hiatus and heavily contemplated breaking the bond. It was Yunho who convinced him otherwise. He claimed Mingi as his center, like SanWoo, JonYeo, and HongHwa claimed each other. But who would be the ladymate’s center?

Walking around their exhibition was like a flash from the not-so-distant past. Mingi enjoyed watching a small Atiny try to dance along with the music video playing on a TV on the wall before he heard another TV going behind him. Following the sound, Mingi found himself watching a documentary completely in English about the King of Pop. 

Figuring he could sit for a bit and watch it while Yeosang did his thing, Mingi plopped down on one of the backless benches, and that was when the pain started. It wasn’t like it was at BMO, but it was present. It was almost like his missing soulmate had sat there and just dumped all the pain out into the space. 

“Gi, I can’t find anything,” Yeosang and Wooyoung say, walking up to him in the slightly secluded view room. It’s Woo who notices Mingi’s pained expression.

“Gi, are you alright? Is it you, or is it our ladymate?” Wooyoung says, kneeling before Mingi and grabbing his hand to comfort him. His eyes are filled with concern. Smiling with a pained brow, he tells the two about what he feels and suspects has happened. 

“Maybe she overdid it last night, and coming here didn’t help,” offers the youngest. “She may be more stubborn than we thought. It is interesting that she can just leave her pain here though. I have never heard of that ability.”

“Are you going to be able to walk, Gi?” questions Yeosang. 

“What’s wrong with Gi?” Hwa asks, coming around the corner with his grouping.

After listening to Mingi explain what San had signaled and what he felt, Hwa became more determined to find his ladymate. Not only is she missing, but she (in his mind) is gravely injured. “Emotional resonance from a soulmate only lasts maybe 20 minutes at max. She was just here. Yunho?”

“My anchor is gone. She must have absorbed it from this room when she rested here. Let’s go down to the merch area and see if the anchor is still there,” suggested Yunho.

With that, everyone took the elevator down and followed Yunho. Closing his eyes, Yunho reached for his other anchor and found that it, too, was missing. Shaking his head with his eyes downcast, he realizes there is nothing else he can do. His anchors weren’t strong enough to keep their ladymate from leaving.

“Her pine is here. She was here,” Hongjoong declares quietly, trying not to bring a crowd.

“You aren’t wrong, love. I can feel the pull again. Mingi?” Hwa asks, eyes imploring the gentle giant, who nods in agreement but is leaning against Yunho because of the pain now concentrated in his ankle.

“The plaited silk rope is back!” exclaims Yeosang. “I can feel it, but I can’t tug on it. She is still too far away, do you think she left the building?”

The slightly winded San speedwalks to the group, “She is outside. I think she is headed to the parking garage. Let’s go. NOW.”

“San, take Yeosang, Seonghwa, and Jongho with you. Stay together. The rest of us will come with Mingi.” This sends a flash of confusion across San’s face as he looks at Mingi with questioning and worried eyes. “

“I will explain later,” commands Hongjoong as he takes on the role of captain in situations like this. 

At his words, half the bonded group practically jogs out of the museum and onto the streets of downtown LA. Bodyguards discreetly follow behind them so as not to interfere with their search.

The rest of the group follows at a quickened walk. Mingi is clearly limping, which doesn’t go unnoticed by some fellow museum attendees. The stunned looks, pointed cell phones, and not-so-hush-hush squealing tell them they have been found out. 

Looking over his shoulder, Hongjoong sees their manager and the last bodyguards starting to head off the fans attempting to approach. Under different circumstances, Ateez would gladly stop and meet their international Atiny, but they had a soulmate to catch.

The whole ride back to your friend’s house is spent staring at the ungodly amount of photos and videos you took. Of course, they were mainly of Seonghwa and San, but what shocked you was the surprising number of Mingi shots you had. 

“Hey, I know we have talked about who our favorites are. Mine are Seonghwa and San. Yours, Kat, is Hongjoong. Cindy, you have two like me… Yeosang and Jongho, right?” you suddenly call out from the backseat.

“Damn, Y/n, you’re alive? I thought we had lost you to post-concert depression already. The first time is the worst,” joked Kat.

“Ha. ha. I am just editing my photos and stuff. It’s strange, though. I have so many of Mingi,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“We soooo should have done the pre/post bias TikTok trend,” laughs Cindy. “I think Someone lost their place in y/n’s heart.”

“Nono. No. The majority is still of my Hwa and my mountain. It’s just that there is an almost equal amount of Mingi. Was he hurt before the concert? In this video it looks like he is limping,” your chest tugs at the thought of Mingi being hurt as you show the video to the front seat at the stop light. 

“Huh, you’re right. It does look like it,” comments Kat, taking your phone and flipping through your photos. “Looks like your boyfriends and Mingi kept to our side of the stage, which is unusual.”

“I noticed that during the concert. My pretty boys kept running to the other side. That is why I stopped trying to take pictures,” huffs Cindy. 

Driving the additional 30 minutes home felt like pulling your ankle off at the joint. Guess this is what you get from trying to dress like a pirate and wearing heeled boots on uneven grass. 

Climbing into bed, you put ice on your swollen ankle sprain and take more painkillers. You had been taking them all night after being shoved by some impatient twinks that wanted to get past the merch line. 

Your boot heel had sunk into a hole or made its own from how long you had been standing there. You went down hard, and your foot was instantly in pain, but you swallowed it down because you were not about to ruin this for Cindy or Kat. 

Sleep comes quickly and is filled with Matz stealing you away for a night on the town, SanWoo cuddling with you while you watch movies, Twin Towers treating you to a beautiful dinner, and even JonYeo walking with you along the beach. 

RingRingRingRing

Buzz,Buzz,Buzzzzzzzzz

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK

“What… the… HELL,” you scream at the coarse and abrupt sounds waking you from your amazing dreams. Dragging your not-awake-yet ass to the front door, still clad in your PJs and limping slightly, you jerk open the door to find Cindy and Kat standing there bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

“Jesus! You rose from the dead. Finally,” Kat says with a laugh, handing you something in a bag and pushing past you.

“Here,” Cindy smiles and hands you your favorite Starbucks drink. “It has an extra two shots.”

After taking a long drink of the Cafe Vanilla Frap, you close the door and stare at the two soon-to-be-ex friends, “You have one chance to tell me why you are here, or I will kick you out.”

“Grumpy butt,” mutters Kat.

“We tried calling and texting for the last two hours, but we don’t have much time before we catch our plane back to Washington,” pleads Cat. “We brought treats to apologize, but we figured you would want to take advantage of the free tickets to the Ateez exhibit at Grammy Museum that we were comp-ed.”

Sitting on the couch, you pull out the Sausage and Cheddar Muffin from Starbucks. Okay, they get bonus points for getting the right one. “Keep talking. You said they are comp-ed? How?” you question before taking a large bite from the yummy breakfast treat.

Pulling out her phone, Kat reads over an email she got from BMO apologizing for their shit directions and causing several attendees to miss performances. As compensation, they gave each ticket holder a ticket. 

“If we leave here in the next 10 minutes, we can make it there. We have about three hours to meander and get you back in time for our plane. We already packed the rental car with all our stuff,” explains Cindy.

“Hence, why we're practically breaking down your door. Let's wrap your ankle, get you in some clothes, and you can finish eating in the car,” Kat says as they head down the hall to your room. 

After finally deciding to wear jeans and the tour sleeveless shirt you bought, you wrapped your ankle and donned tennis shoes, and out the door, you went. Oh, and painkillers were on board, too. That was a must.

The drive took about an hour, which gave you plenty of time to discuss each other's concert-induced dreams. It was a relief that you weren’t the only one because that meant either you were completely normal, or your friends were just as delusional as you are.

It’s lovely how, even with a GPS, it is still challenging to find places in cities like Hollywood and LA. All the tall buildings block signals. It’s irritating how we can put Bluetooth cameras in sunglasses now, but we can’t get GPS signals through a building yet. 

At this point, Cindy has given up on the GPS recalculating at every street, and the three of you are just looking for something that may resemble a museum. That’s when you feel something, like a pull or a nudge, to look to your right. “There it is! Next to that, Fixin something something restaurant.”

“Wow, that's a good eye! I would have never seen it,” says Kat, who is sitting on the same side as you. “I guess the museum is smaller than what I was looking for. It looks just like an office building. How did you see that?”

“I don know. I just had a feeling and looked then poof there it was,” you giggle. “Anyways, let’s park in the structure and head in. Maybe my ankle will chill out if I use it a bit more. Right now, it is not happy, that is for sure.”

Unlike finding the place, parking was a piece of cake. Grabbing your concert bag you hadn’t unpacked last night; you smile at the plushie and photocards hanging off it. 

“Are you still happy I got SANdeoki instead of DDEONGbyeoli? I only got her because you had recently been sending me a lot of Instagram links of San, and she is purple, " Cindy asks.

Bringing SANdeoki up to your face, you hug and kiss her on the forehead. “I love her. I was thinking now that I have her and the face card holder, I am starting to look like a real Atiny.” That pulls laughs from everyone as you head up to finally see and learn more about these eight Korean men who crashed into your world of music. 

It is interesting how having those two Ateez items on a cross-body bag is the green light for any random Atiny to start talking to you. Between the car and getting to the correct floor of the museum, you got a few waves, a couple of finger hearts, and some short conversations. 

Of course, Cindy and Kat knew this would happen and flowed right with everything, but you, on the other hand, were a little taken back. However, once you explained that you were a baby Atiny, the randos calmed down and became encouraging. 

Once you redeemed your ticket, the staff directed you to the right floor and pointed out the elevator. When the doors opened, your face lit up. You hear playful scoffing from behind you as Kat says, “Oh no. Y/n is in heaven now. Not only does she get to see Ateez's stuff, but they also have the MJ thing still up.”

“Hey, what can I say? I am ployJAMorus,” you comment. Kat isn’t wrong. You loved Michael Jackson and the Jackson 5. Most of your music tastes were before your time until K-pop came along. “Ateez first, then MJ, and then we can check out the other levels if you guys want. With how small this place is, I am sure we can see the whole place in less than an hour.”

And that is what you did.

The music video costumes, props, and Ateez's history were all there, and you read everything. You also saw some stuff from Xikers, who you learned were from KQ Entertainment, considered the next gen of K-pop and dongsaengs to Ateez.

“Y/n, are you trying to smell Wooyoung’s clothes or do you just normally sniff glass?” Kat asks with her arms crossed. “Cindy, I think y/n needs to touch some grass. The concert overloaded her normal OS.”

“What?” You snap out of it. “I wasn’t trying to sniff his clothes. If I’d sniff anyone’s clothes, it would be Seonghwa’s. Get it right. I just noticed the excellent pine scent in this area, almost like those Christmas tree candles from the Yankee Candle Company.”

Slightly embarrassed, you take a deep breath to smell it again but play it off as a stretch while rolling your ankle around. Frowning, you note that it hasn’t stopped throbbing, but you still want to look around. Limping your way over to the Michael Jackson side of the floor, you check out all the jeweled jackets he once wore. 

Gosh, you knew you would get excited to see all the cool stuff because music would have been your life if you had any confidence in yourself. The tingling in your chest and the calmness of being surrounded by greatness is warming. 

Turning around a corner, you notice a mini theater that practically pulls you in. Nothing is playing on the screen, but there are benches where you can at least rest to give your ankle a break. Once seated, you close your eyes, take a deep, centering breath, fill your lungs with that calming pine, and try to relax every muscle in your body. 

Mind over matter has been your practice in life. 

As you feel each muscle release, a sense of kinship comes over you. It’s not long before you relax from head to toe, settling restless thoughts and sore muscles along the way. Luckily for you, the pain in your ankle subsides. 

By the time you open your eyes, Cindy and Kat have joined you, and the screen is playing a documentary on Thriller. You convince your friends to stay and watch it because that music video was the pinnacle of changing the direction of how things were done, and you felt like you were supposed to stay.

When the show was over, though, they decided it was time to move on, and you really couldn’t tell them you were content with just sitting there without sounding strange. 

However, when you left, the feeling of kinship stayed with you. It even grew when you got to the souvenir store near the main entrance. Sadly, there wasn’t much within your price range to buy. You kept returning to the Ateez mech, wanting to buy something but never feeling like you had found what kept you coming back. 

Cindy and Kat, complaining about being hungry, finally pulled you away from the store and over to what you now know as Fixins Soul Kitchen. It was pretty much an expensive “Hollywood” take on Roscoe's Chicken ‘n’ Waffles. Since you have already eaten breakfast on the way down, you decide to get a salad and chat about everything and anything you can think of. 

Full bellies, good memories, and great friends are a fantastic way to end Cindy and Kat’s trip. You, of course, pay for everyone’s meal and a final gift and meander out to the sidewalk. 

“Hey, look at the crowd outside of the museum,” Kat comments. Feeling that strange pull to the building, you move to walk towards it.

“Either it was a good thing we came early because it is more popular than we thought or someone famous is inside. Kinda wish we had more time to check it out but we gotta get going if we are going to get you home and catch the plane on time,” says Cindy almost wistfully. 

“Yeah,” you absentmindedly say as the strangest feeling comes over you. It’s like a ghost-like tug pulls at your chest while a melody plays in your head that you know you have never heard of before.

“Earth to Y/n! We gotta go unless you wanna pay like $60 for an Uber home,” Cindy remarks, regaining your attention. Shaking your head and rubbing your chest, you turn away from the crowd and follow your friends to the parking garage. 

What is going on with you, you contemplate. Yesterday, you felt like you didn’t want to leave BMO stadium, but today, you don’t want to leave the Grammy Museum. Are you that music or socially deprived that you want to hold on to everything?

The tugging in your chest strengthens with each foot forward, slowing your steps. It feels like a thick rope binding you and pulling you back the other way, but you know your friends have limited time, and you can’t afford the Uber.  

You softly start to hum the melody that is crescendoing in your mind, blocking out the excited commotion and hurried steps approaching you. You are so in your own thoughts, with your eyes naturally cast downwards, that seeing the world around you ends until you run into a wall. 

Putting your hands on the wall you ran into… it feels kinda warm. Blinking yourself back into the world around you, the first thing you notice is that the wall is wearing… shoes.

Startled and embarrassed by walking right into someone, you step back and drop your hand from their body. However, you find yourself running into someone else as their warm hands fall on your cold arms. Snapping your head up, you see the muscled man in front of you for a split second before you look over your shoulder at the person behind you.

Freezing in place. You think yourself crazy until you catch the movement of someone else. 

No. 

No way. 

Looking to your right and left, recognizable Korean men surround you, but it can't be. Panic starts to settle in as you finally hear the commotion around you. That is when more men join the circle encompassing you. 

Taking a step forward gets halted by the man at your back saying, “Wait, please.”

“This isn’t real,” you say softly, your eyes never settling on any men boxing you in. 

With a warm smile, the mountain of a man steps forward and says, “Hello Miss, I am Choi San. I think the nine of us need to sit down and talk.”

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[mxnsxngie]

Meant For Me (P.S): Chapter 9

Warnings: little bit of language, SMUT, oral (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, biting and marking, choking, breeding kink

⚠️Minors do NOT interact with this au⚠️

Word Count: 3166

The conversation between you and Seonghwa the whole drive back to your place flowed as easy as ever, filled with easy conversation, plenty of laughs, and just as many stolen glances at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking. Before you knew it, he had pulled up to your place and came rushing around to help you out of the car.

He smiled down at you as he offered his hand for you to take to help yourself out.

“Thank you” you say as you smile up at him with a slight blush.

“You’re welcome” he says, shutting the door and adjusting your hands so he’s holding yours in his own. “Lead the way?” He says, looking at you.

“Follow me” you say as you lead him by the hand up to your apartment. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you climb the stairs to your door and you open it, the both of you going in. You turn on the lights and set your purse down as he takes his shoes off before looking around a little.

“Your place is really nice” he says as he glances at the art on your walls while walking to where you’re standing in the living room. He smiles as he takes you in his arms, just holding you as he looks at you, that same adoring look in his eyes.

“Thank you, I put a lot of work into it” you whisper as you look at him. “I guess we should talk about things, huh?” You ask shyly.

“We probably should. You know I want to be with you, but we should probably talk about it more, since our friends seem to know more about how we feel for each other than we do” he chuckles as he plays with your hair.

“That’s true” you laugh as you take his hand, leading him to the couch to sit with you so you can talk. “So I take it by how things at dinner went that you likely feel the same way I do” you smile as you let him hold your hand, his thumb rubbing over it as you talk.

“I’d say that’s a safe bet” he says with a smile. “But no, in all seriousness, I meant what I said at the restaurant. Take soulmates out of the equation. I want to be with you, I want to be yours. There’s just something about you. Whenever I’m around you, I just feel like I’m home. I’m at peace, and comfortable, you feel like home. And when I’m not with you, I can’t stop thinking about being with you. I know it sounds weird, and I can’t explain it really. It’s like, I don’t know? Like-”

“Like you were meant for me” you interrupt, knowing exactly how he felt, how you felt.

“Yes! Like you were meant for me” he says, a look of calm washing over his face as he realizes you get what he means and he’s not making a fool of himself.

“I get it, I feel the same way. And when we almost kissed those couple of times, it was like I was burning up the closer you got, and I loved it” you whisper, slightly shy at your admission.

“You felt it too?” He asks in surprise.

“I did” you nod, smiling now that you know you weren’t the only one who felt it.

“Maybe our friends were right” he mutters as he looks deep in thought.

“Right about what?” You ask in confusion.

“I want to test a theory, but before I do, now that we’ve talked” he pauses, taking your hand. Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, a little bit of a pleading look in his eyes as he looks at you, waiting for your response.

“Of course I will” you smile widely as you squeeze his hand before rubbing your thumb over his hand. “Now what’s this about a theory?” You ask, confused at what he was thinking your friends may have been right about.

“I just want to try something, do you trust me?” He asks as he leans closer to you, his eyes flicking down to your lips and struggling to look back to your eye.

“Of course I do” you whisper as he continues to lean closer, your body feeling warmer and warmer the closer he gets, just like both times before.

“Good, because I’ve been dying to do this” he whispers, a centimeter from your lips, before leaning in and capturing your lips in his, his hand cradling the side of your head and back of your neck as he does.

The second your lips connect, the warmth you’d been feeling explodes under your skin, consuming you from head to toe before fading into tingles across your whole body. You moan into the kiss at the feeling before pulling back just enough to speak, still keeping your lips close.

“Was that?” You whisper in shock,eyes blown wife, realizing what he had been wondering about.

“Yeah, they were right. We’re soulmates” he whispers against your lips and you can feel the smile spread across his lips.

“Thank god it’s you” you say, unable help the giddy giggle that leaves your lips before you’re both diving back into each other.

This kiss is much needier than the last. It’s full of passion and heat and is more intense than any kiss you’ve had before and you’re still tingling everywhere. You’re both putting all of the built up tension and relief of finding your soulmate into the kiss. Your hands are tangled in his hair and his are wrapping around you to pull you onto his lap. You both groan into the kiss as he settles you on his lap. You break away for a second to catch your breath, both your eyes wild and needy, before kissing again.

This time, you can’t hold yourself back, everything about this, about him, feeling more right than anything. Before you can stop yourself, you’re grinding yourself down against him, his grip on your hips tightening at the euphoric feeling as you both moan into the kiss. The feeling of him hardening under you is addicting and all you can do is continue grinding yourself against him, moaning at the feeling of his hands gripping you so hard that you’re sure you’ll have bruises. Nothing had ever felt as right as he does.

You moan into the kiss as he unexpectedly reaches a hand up and tugs at your hair and your mind is clouded with nothing but Seonghwa. You can’t get enough of him, can’t get close enough. You need him. As you grind down against him again, he surprises you and picks you up, breaking the kiss so he can carry you towards your room.

As he's carrying you towards your room, you can't help but lean in to kiss his neck. You start where his neck meets his shoulder, slowly working your kisses up his neck until you hear his breath hitch at one particular spot. You giggle with a smirk before latching back on to the spot that made him weak. You start with light kisses before slowly working up to sucking and nipping to leave a mark, causing him to gasp. You giggle against his neck as you suck at it again, causing him to let out a small moan as you feel your back being pressed against the wall. You pull back to look at him with a gasp. He rests his forehead against yours, panting against your lips.

"You drive me insane in the best way possible" he whispers as he looks at you, his eyes filled with passion and lust for you.

"I've barely even done anything" you say in surprise, breathing just as heavily as he is.

"Everything about you drives me insane, you don't even have to do anything. Look what you've done already" he groans as he grinds his clothed length against you. You let out a surprised moan at the feeling, tugging lightly at his hair.

"Fuck, Seonghwa, I need you, I need you so bad" you moan, your head tipping back against the wall as you grind back against him.

“I got you, don’t worry baby” he groans, kissing you as he pulls you both away from the wall, kicking the door to your bedroom open as he carries you to your bed. Without breaking the kiss, he carefully lays you on your bed, moving to hover over you. He finally pulls back to look at you, panting to catch his breath.

“You look so beautiful princess” he whispers before leaning down to trail kisses along your neck, nipping here and there as he goes until he finds the spot that makes your breath hitch.

“Hwa, please” you whine, your hips bucking up to grind against him, desperate for any friction you can get.

“I’ve got you, gonna make you feel so good kitten” he whispers in your ear before pulling you up to help remove your shirt and bra. He lays you back down and starts kissing down your chest, pausing to nip and mark your breasts as he undoes the button on your pants and helps you out of them and your underwear as he continues kissing down your stomach as if he has all the time in the world. And he does.

You can’t help the whines and sighs escaping your lips as he worships your body, kissing everywhere he can as your hips rut up against him. He pins your hips down with his arm as he moves his body lower, so he can be eye level with your pussy for the first time.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful like this” he mutters against your inner thigh as you feel two of his fingers glide through your folds, gathering wetness along the way before they catch against your clit, pulling a startled moan from your lips.

“You’re so fucking wet. And all for me” he groans as he starts slowly rubbing circles on your clit as his tongue licks through your folds for the first time.

“Fuck, you taste fucking perfect” he groans before diving back in, cause you to let out a loud moan at the contact. He ate you out like a man starved, his tongue fucking in and out of your dripping hole while his fingers on your clit sped up, pulling a constant stream of whines, moans, and cries of his name from your lips. His long tongue reached depths in you that you couldn’t even reach with your fingers, causing your hips to buck against his face.

You were starting to clench around his tongue before long, your hand tugging on his hair as your walls started fluttering and your moans for higher and louder as you tried to warn him of your impending orgasm.

“H-hwa. I’m gonna cum, fuck. Please don’t stop” you cried as the knot was just about to snap in you. He only hastened his efforts, slipping two of his fingers into you as he pulled back so we could watch you.

“Cum for me kitten, all over my tongue” he said before attaching his lips to your clit. With one strong suck, you were falling apart on his fingers in the most earth shattering orgasm you’d ever experienced, tugging tighter on his hair as you moaned his name. He slowly worked you through your orgasm before removing his fingers and licking them clean as he looked down at you. You couldn’t help but stare up at him in awe.

“Fuck you’re good at that” you pant as you catch your breath, watching him smile as he leans down to you.

“Only the best for my girl” he says and you can’t help the butterflies that swarm in your stomach and the fluttering of your heart when you hear him call you that.

“Claim me as yours then” you whisper as you pull him down to you, kissing him with all of the love and passion you could put into it, trying to show him how thankful you were to have him.

He groaned into the kiss before pulling back to quickly strip himself before crawling back over you, grinding his cock against your soaked folds as he reattaches his lips to yours.

You moan into the kiss at the feeling, as you grind yourself against him.

“You’re so big” you whine, trying to find some friction against him.

“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry” he says, kissing your forehead as he starts to line himself up to slide in to you.

“No, don’t be gentle. I’m not made of glass. I want you to ruin me and claim me as yours” you tell him as you look him in the eye. The second the words leave your lips, his eyes darken and a switch flips in him.

“Just remember, you asked for this kitten” he says before sliding into you, causing you to let out an almost pornographic moan at the feeling of his large cock filling you up.

“Fuck, you really were meant for me” you whine as you buck your hips against him, trying to urge him to move.

“So were you, you feel fucking perfect” he says as one of his hands grabs your hips and pins them down against the bed while the other grabs both of yours and pins them above your head as he leans over you. “But you’re going to be good for me now, keep those hips still for me baby” he whispers.

The next thing you know, he’s thrusting into you hard and fast, hitting deeper than you’ve ever felt before. The moans pouring from your lips only spurring him on more as you try your hardest not to fuck yourself back against him like he told you. You want nothing more than to cling to him, to grip his hair and neck, but his hand holding yours down won’t let you and that only turns you on more.

“Perfect, you’re fucking perfect, fuck” he groans against your neck as he bites down, leaving a mark on your collarbone. The bite pulls an unexpected orgasm from you, causing him to groan as he feels you flutter around him, but he doesn’t stop.

“My naughty little kitten, so good for me. Now, let’s give you one more, yeah? I know you can do that for me” he says as his hand that’s holding yours slides down to rest at the base of your neck.

“Is this okay?” He asks as his hand rests there, waiting for your permission.

“Yes, please choke me” you beg him, your eyes pleading. With your new found freedom, your hands are immediately flying to grip to his back to ground you.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me kitten” he says, his hand tightening around your neck just the slightest bit, causing your head to go a little fuzzy.

“Oh you really like that, I can feel you gripping me tighter. My precious kitten. I want to breed you so bad” he says, which prompts one of the loudest moans of the night yet from you, which is impressive considering his hand on your throat, and you to clench down on him hard as you squirm in his grip.

“You like that? You want me to breed you nice and full? Make it so everyone knows you’re mine? Maybe even get you pregnant?” He whispers, removing his hand from your neck so you can breathe and respond to him.

“Yes! Fuck, please! Please breed me sir. Please, want to be nice and full of you, wanna have your kids. Please fill me up, please” you beg through your moans.

“Fuck, how can I say no to that? Whatever my little one wants” he groans, his hands sliding to move your legs to rest on his shoulder as he bends over, quickening his pace.

“Hwa, fuck! I’m so close” You moan, feeling the familiar knot tighter as he’s hitting even deeper inside you than before.

“So am I princess. Gonna fill you nice and full like you want. Cum for me kitten, I’m right behind you” he says as he reaches one hand down to quickly circle your clit to help get you there. It was all you needed before the knot is snapping and you’re falling apart all over again, scratching at his back as your orgasm takes over you.

The feeling of your spasming walls clamping down on him makes him let out the neediest whine as he comes, thrusting sharply into you, rutting all of his cum into you as deep as he can get it, biting your neck as he does, causing you to let out a small moan at the feeling.

The room is filled with heavy breathing as you both try to catch your breath, coming down from the best orgasms you’ve ever had. The wifeys weren’t wrong when they said soulmate sex was on another level. And you finally understood what they meant. You’ve never felt more pleasure in your life, nor as complete as you do now.

You feel Seonghwa slowly place light, gentle kisses where he had been biting down on your shoulder as he slowly comes back to you, causing you to let out a content sigh at the feeling.

“Are you okay? I wasn’t too rough was I?” He sweetly asks as he leans up a little to look at you, moving some of your hair out of your face.

“No, you were perfect. That was amazing. Hands down the best sex I’ve ever had” you say, smiling up at him as you leave a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I’m inclined to agree. And I definitely get why the guys were holed up for days after finding your girls now. That was incredible” he says, looking at you with nothing but adoration.

“I was just thinking the same thing. I already can’t get enough of you” you say, melting under his intense stare.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m far from done with you princess. We just need to catch our breath” he says kissing your forehead as he plays with your hair.

“Can’t wait. Soooo we’re going to explore that breeding kink of ours more, right?” You whisper, immediately feeling him twitch inside of you and begin to harden again at your statement as he groans in your ear.

“You really are going to be the death of me kitten. God I love you” he says with a chuckle.

“I love you too Hwa” you smile. “But is that a yes or?” You say, cutting yourself off with a gasp as he gives you one sharp thrust in warning.

“Oh it’s a yes. But just remember, you asked for this” he says with a smirk on his face and a dark look in his eyes.

This was going to be a long night.

Tag List: @yxngbxkkie @channiechxn @imagine-a-life-like-this @maeleelee @bunnyiix @acrylishly @hobasimp89 @cadenonlinelive @babyboyquokka @l3visbby @kpop-in-new-albion @adoringsof @jisuperboard @zoe8stay @i-love-ateez @thatfavouritesong @okkkcausewhet @bouncyyunho @smally97

[cultofdionysusnet]

Check out this Ateez fic written by Holy!

𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢 ℭ𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔩𝔢 | Seonghwa x reader

𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: Vampire Prince Seonghwa x Mortal maid reader 𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You've heard the story since you were a little girl—a beautiful vampire prince living in an ancient Gothic castle covered in thorny roses, waiting for his true love. But you could never have imagined that you were destined to be part of this gloomy story.  𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 / 𝔄𝔲 / 𝔗𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔢 : Smut, Dark Romance, Mystery, Doomed lovers!AU, Vampire!AU, Gothic!AU, Soulmate!AU ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 15k

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Vampire sex, master/servant, unprotected sex, corruption kink, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, oral, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, сreampie, rough sex, rough oral, power play, hematolagnia, body worship, bite kink, orgasm delay/denial, wax game, blood kink, blood drinking, multiple orgasms, squirting, face fucking and more.

𝔫𝔢𝔱: @cultofdionysusnet

𝔄|𝔑: And now I've finally completed it and I couldn't be happier. I guess I'm a little too in love with Seonghwa. But can I resist the temptation to give him all my attention? And the bunnies seem a little obsessed with him too, don't they? This is a gothic fairy tale, full of depravity, filth and lust. Are you ready for a prince's cold kiss?

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 Part I @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 @unholywriters @hey-syia @hrts4nohee @vnessalau @mlink64 @tessakleine @fr34k4c1dr41n @313hwa @lilyuwon @tiziamattaga @un-knew @wiaxul @siyah-staryis

It's always been this way and always will be: people avoid the village that stands by the sinister Gothic castle in the middle of a dead rose garden, where ancient legend says a beautiful midnight somnambulist holds the guilty legacy of his bloodthirsty ancestors. Dressed in an ancient coronation robe, the magnificent prince of vampires sits all alone in his dark, vast house, under the watchful eye of his mad and terrible ancestors, who stare at him from faded portraits, each of them prolonging their dreary posthumous existence through him. He spreads the tarot cards, tirelessly forming endless constellations of indeterminate probabilities, as if a random card falling on a regal blood-red velvet tablecloth would transport him from this cold, shuttered room to a land of eternal summer and human warmth. As if it would help him to wipe away the age-old sorrow from his unbeating heart, to allow him to feel, at last, the love for which he so desperately longs—the love for someone like him, a creature who embodies life and death at the same time.

His voice is full of distant echoes of long-forgotten love poems, like an echo under the earth: "You've come to a place from which you can't return; you've come to a place from which you can't return." And he himself is like a dark, cold dungeon, filled with the reverberation of a lonely echo, a system of repetition, a vicious circle.

He is so divinely beautiful that his beauty seems unnatural; his beauty is an abnormality, a perfect flaw, for in no hypnotic feature of his face is there a hint of the touching imperfection so natural to human existence. His beauty is a sign of fatal disease, a sign of blood full of poison; his black tears are a sign of his lack of soul.

A night-born beauty who embodies both the sin and the blessing in his existence. The Prince of immortality, lord of grief, master of endless tears.

The elegant hands of the beautiful denizen of darkness skillfully guide the hand of fate. The nails on his hands are long and sharpened to a point as sharp as a dagger of steel. These nails and teeth—magnificent, glistening dangerously in the darkness like white snow under the moonlight—are visible signs of his inescapable destiny, which he desperately tries to escape by using magic and otherworldly powers. His claws and teeth have been honed by centuries of brutal wars and bloody orgies. He is the last descendant of a poisonous, barren tree that took root in a time when humans worshipped blind Gods and believed in the powers of nature. 

As soon as the sun, bleeding with golden ichor, has set, he rises from his voluptuousness bed, which rather more closely resembles a velvety coffin than a lovelorn bed, and goes to the little round table, and, sitting at this table, he plays his leisurely, mirthless game with fate, until hunger awakens in him—an insatiable, bestial, scorching his whole being—hunger.

His lips were intoxicating wine—the scarlet madness of pure seduction. His kiss was as tender as a mother's caress, as suffocating as unspoken words, and as shattering as the agony of dying love, but it was only when his alluringly sensual smile faded in the lips of his victims that they would realise that it was not wine—it was blood—and it tasted as bitter as poisonous wild strawberries and ashes. He slowly savoured each cooling drop of blood until the eyes of his lovers became pale and sombre, like lily flowers submerged in water. The glow of the moonlight that pours in through the boarded-up windows of his castle, on their waxy skin, was their burial garb. 

The Prince's realm stretches for miles and miles, encompassing all the haunted labyrinths of misty forests and mysterious abandoned dwellings, inhabited by ghosts and all manner of midnight creatures. In addition to his poisonous beauty, he has inherited the command of an army of fleshless shadows who inhabit the village at the foot of his sinister castle, which rests in a dead garden of mourning roses like a lover in her eternal sleep, waiting for the beautiful prince to one day kiss her icy lips. These macabre shadows sneak into the woods in the guise of bats and black foxes. They crawl into the corners of the ornate rooms of an abandoned house as thick, menacing spiders that entangle everything around them in the silken canopies of their webs. Their presence is manifested in the sound of sobbing in an abandoned bedroom where a cracked mirror hangs on the wall, reflecting nothing, and in the sense of unease that grips those who wander carelessly into these desolate lands. They torment all the beautiful young maidens, pure as angels from paintings, with fits of inexplicable weakness and madness, forcing them to wander about at night like somnambulists—barefoot and naked—until their frail bodies lie in the bloody sheets of their splendid lord.

But the Midnight Prince himself is indifferent to his otherworldly, immense power; instead, he longs to be an ordinary man and to meet his love—predestined and fateful—but he doesn't know if it can happen at all. The Tarot cards are always laid out for him in exactly the same way, always showing him the same painfully familiar pattern: the Magician, Death, the Tower - shattered by violet lightning—mystery, fatality, and destruction. 

In addition to the hundreds of whispering, sexless shadows that waltz through the dusky, gloomy corridors of the hereditary castle, the handsome prince has other living servants. Bleakness somnambulistic the servants in a dumb daze tend the decomposing castle, ensuring that no sunlight enters the dreary, formerly majestic halls and that their immortal master always has fresh, hot blood to satisfy his insatiable, animalistic hunger. They are eager to fulfil his every whim and desire, as vampire minions are supposed to do, and when one of these pale servants dies, turning into an immovable, translucent dried flower, another one takes his place, and the cycle begins all over again. 

They live as long as the prince wants, until he tires of their emotionless, silent presence. He mercifully shares his immortality with them, which moulds with poisonous black blood at the bottom of their exquisite porcelain tea cups. Everything about this otherworldly Prince of the Night justifies his tragic role—lord of sorrow and terror—except the fact that he himself is very reluctant to play this unpleasant role. 

On long, moonless nights, his caring, taciturn caretaker allows him to take a stroll through the garden. This rose garden is a place of extreme darkness and melancholy, lulled into the depths of a thorny maze and a beautiful, centuries-old cemetery where the remains of his cursed family lie beneath nameless marble slabs and faceless angels in empty coffins. 

The roses, once bright and alive, have now grown into a great wall of dead flowers. Behind them, he is trapped in his ancestral castle, like an intricate cage. There is no comfort for him in his ghostly existence, which is a clumsy imitation of real life. And then he returns to the lulling magic of the tarot, slowly shuffling the cards, spreading them out, trying to read them, and then, with a sigh, picking them up and shuffling them again, endlessly guessing at the inevitable fate.

Dressed in his blood-stained lace gown, he lies in his luxurious bed all day, drowning in countless pillows. When the tired, bloody sun disappears behind the vague line of the horizon, taking with it the weight of human life, he rises from his bed to take a bath filled to the brim with rose petals and virgin's blood, which stands in the middle of a room full of mirrors, and then he sits down at his little round table and plays cards until his hunger awakens again. 

It always was, and always will be, until, on one of an endless series of overcast, recurring days, the graceful, waxen fingers of a vampiric prince—as he descended from a sacred icon—turn over a card called 'Lovers'. Never, never before... never before has the prince been a forerunner of love. He shudders and trembles, his huge, hypnotic eyes close with nervously fluttering eyelids pierced by thin, bluish veins. This time, for the first time, the beautiful fortune-teller foretold yourself love—eternal as life and death at the same time.

The prince's luxurious chambers were in a high tower covered with prickly roses, and it was a part of the castle that had not yet been completely destroyed by time and sorrow, retaining some semblance of frightening grandeur. You have never been in this wing until this night, and if it were up to you, you would never want to be here again. This castle is a place of gore and death, a place from which no one has ever come back alive, but that was the last thing on your mind as you ran away into the impenetrable forest in the middle of a moonless night, fleeing further and further into the whispering darkness—to a place where your family would never find you, even if you had to pay for it with your life.

And so here you are. Waltzing through the endless labyrinths of the crumbling family castle of the beautiful lord of darkness and suffering—the midnight vampire prince Seonghwa—serving him and tending to the gloomy halls of his once glorious family legacy.

Ashes to ashes. Blood to blood.

Your pale, trembling hand floated in the air, hesitant to knock on the heavy, solid black oak door that separated the prince's velvet chambers from the rest of the castle. You had been standing there for some time, surrounded by whispering shadows and silken darkness. Their hissing, serpentine voices, coming to your ears from those dusty, darkness corners, where the dim glow of the candles did not reach:"He knows...he hears...he feels you...feels you..."

Even though it was always bone-chillingly freezing cold in the castle, your nervousness caused a clammy, obnoxious sweat to form on your skin, rolling in thick, glistening drops down your neck to the hollow of your plunging neckline, leaving a cooling, transparent trail resembling a ghostly kiss. You swallowed hard, saliva suddenly pooling in your mouth, and drew in a deep breath, mentally counting to ten, trying in vain to calm the frantic pounding of your heart against your ribs. It shouldn't be a big deal. After all, if the Prince had wanted you dead, your exsanguinated body would have been buried deep underground in his beautiful garden by now, which looked more like an exquisite burial ground than anything else.

It was utterly foolish of you to try and delay the inevitable. Seonghwa was waiting for you; he longed to see you. The prince had personally requested your presence in his chambers this evening, and he was probably well aware of how long you had been standing at the door of his bedchamber.

The prince’s velvety, almost purring voice echoed inside the room as your knuckles barely touched the dark wood of the door: "You can come in, my darling."

A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of that hypnotic, enchanting voice. Even though it was muffled by the thickness of the stone walls, you could still clearly feel its otherworldly, terrifying power lurking behind every letter he uttered. The prince's voice was like an angel's plaintive song—beautiful and terrifying at once.

You swallowed hard again and opened the massive oak door, framed in a rich wrought-iron floral design, leaning most of your weight on the hard wood. The thorns of the bronze roses, worn by time, were as sharp as the deadly fangs of a vampire prince. Your entire body shuddered as you stood frozen at the entrance to his private chambers, afraid to step over the threshold. Something ominous and terrifying hung in the air, sending shivers down your spine.

Reflections of blackened family gold caught your eye, emanating from every corner of the room as the flickering candlelight refracted and shattered against the sumptuous antique jewellery. Even more shadows grew and lurked in the corners of the bedroom, hissing and writhing where your gaze couldn't reach them. Every detail in this room spoke of its former glorious majesty.

In awkward cascades of dusty, faded fabric, heavy velvet curtains that had long since lost their rich burgundy colour hung down the walls of the room. Now the home of delicate glass spiders and dead nocturnal butterflies, they were no longer exquisite pieces of decoration. Hanging on the walls, in massive antique gold frames, were the grim, time-worn portraits of the previous owners of this eerie sanctuary of shadow and sorrow, whose veins ran with the same black blood as Seonghwa's. They were a reminder of the vampire prince's cursed legacy. As the bone-chilling wind swept through the room, you could hear the crystal pendants of the chandelier clink. It brought to your ears the whispers of the shadows in languages you had never heard before.

It seemed to you that the air in Seonghwa's private chambers was even colder than the rest of the castle, filled with a sweet, suffocating scent that made you dizzy. Yet some unknown force drew you deeper into the silken darkness of the bedroom, where the beautiful, sinister creature lived her mirthless existence.

"My darling, you've made me wait too long for you. Come here." The command in his languid, seductive voice shot through your body like a whip, leaving your skin burning. Your whole body clenched with fear, paralysed by cold and nervousness, as you hesitantly moved towards the large archway that led into the open, mirrored space of the bathroom.

The faint splash of water was almost drowned out by the sound of the blood rushing through your veins and your heart pounding against your ribs at an almost painful rate. As you paused at the edge of the podium that held a large marble bathtub filled to the brim with rose petals, the knot of anxiety that was slowly forming in your stomach only tightened. The hot steam rising from the water clung to your skin like a lover's caress, filling the air with the intoxicating scent of the flowers, mixed with something unspeakably sweet, something erotic, something animal—a scent that could only belong to Seonghwa himself.

"What can I do for you today, my prince?" You take a deep breath of the freezing air to calm your nerves a little. The faint metallic taste of blood on your tongue.

"First of all, lift your head, my love, so I can have a good look at you." His velvety, seductive voice rolled down the length of your slightly arched spine, spreading a hot, scarlet flush across your flesh as he spoke. You could already feel how the tops of your thighs were starting to get wet with excitement. You were ashamed to admit how your body reacted to him, even though you knew it was part of his vampire personality that allowed him to mesmerise his prey before delivering his deadly, icy kiss.

Every single cell in your body urges you to run as far away as possible, instinctively reacting to the presence of something so evil and dangerous around you. But you ignored your fear and slowly lifted your head to meet the dark, hypnotic gaze of Seonghwa, who leaned back on the edge of the marble bathtub with regal casualness. A grim shiver ran through your entire body at the gaze of those large, gleaming eyes—slanting and predatory like a wild cat's. Your skin tingled at the feeling of the prince's eyes sliding slowly over your body, lingering too long on the heaving ridges of your plump breasts above the deep neckline of the tight corsage. He was staring at you like a rose, tearing you apart in an effort to get to the very core of you, deliberately slow, petal by petal. 

There is a long silence between the two of you, filled only with the loud beating of your heart and the subtle splashing of the water as the prince's long fingers lazily caress the rose petals floating on the surface of the tub. The intense eye contact was unsettling, as if you were looking at a scene that you weren't meant to see, and perhaps that was exactly what it was. 

It was hard to ignore how beautiful the vampire was and how dangerous he was. The lack of any natural flaws was so glaring that it almost made your head spin from the otherworldly perfection of it all. The greatest artists, in their quest for perfect beauty, would not have been able to describe a divine portrait of his face to this earth without even a hint of the incredible reality of his appearances. The verses of the poets could not describe his eyes; the light in them decided the fate of mankind; they had life and death, sinfulness, passion, and sparkling moisture, something that you could never have in human eyes. You didn't know if Seonghwa was the light of heaven or the flames of hell, but you were sure that he was from the first or second world. Seonghwa was either an angel that had fallen from the open heavens or a demon that had risen from hell, or perhaps both at the same time. 

His long arms stretched out on either side of his lithe, slender body, bulging with silky muscles under smooth, moist skin that shimmered like pure gold in the light of burning candle flames, and you swallowed hard at this view. You felt like you'd been lured straight into the lion's den, and he was going to eat you alive. And maybe, just maybe, that was what you wanted so badly. Every night of your stay in this castle, you have had the same dream—the one where Seonghwa feeds on you while he fucks you in front of the huge antique mirror in his dark velvet chambers. Those dreams - so intense and sensual that when you awoke, you could still feel the prince's phantom cold breath on your skin, the lingering touch of his hands on your body, the aching feel of his big cock between your thighs, and the warmth of your blood running down your naked breasts in dark scarlet streams from the small puncture wounds that Songhwa's needle-sharp fangs had left on your neke. And the longer it went on, the stronger this terrible, dark need became to feel the prince's painful, deadly kiss in reality. 

Right now, there was a small part of you that was desperately hoping that Seonhwa's call to you tonight was for that very reason—to feed on you. 

As if reading your thoughts, a sinful, predatory grin formed on Seonghwa's luscious, sensuous lips, and the look in his seductive, half-closed eyes shot through you, making your blood boil with desire. 

Your excitement was so obvious to him, but in spite of this humiliating fact, the thrilling sensation that was fluttering in your lower abdomen and sending shivers of heat between your luscious thighs only intensified. The blood pulsed in your veins so furiously that you could feel its pulse on your neck, and of course Seonghwa felt that seductive throbbing of your life as well. 

"What is your name?" His voice was like a snowy day after a frozen night, smooth as crystal and sparkling like diamonds, when the prince spoke to you again. 

" Y/N." You say it quietly, looking away from the vampire with a little shyness.

" Y/N." When he speaks your name, you get the feeling that it's always belonged to him. Not to you, but to him, it is. His tongue caresses each letter, wrapping around it as if kissing it and licking each syllable as if his sensual mouth were touching the most tender spot between your legs. He fills your name with his own meaning—impossible, forbidden, sinful—a meaning known only to him. 

The soft splashing of the water was the only warning you were given before Seonghwa stood right in front of you in all of his naked glory. Up close, his appearance was even more inhumanly beautiful, devoid of any of the imperfections of nature. He shone like a celestial being bathed in holy light, water droplets dripping down his perfectly smooth golden skin, and part of you longed to lick it. Blood-red petals clung to the chiselled muscles of his chest and stomach in the most seductive way, igniting a roaring heat inside you and fastening a throb in your heart. His long, midnight-black locks seemed to float softly and beautifully on his head, and his skin shimmered with shards of light. No living being could ever be a match for him—beauty, regality, immortality—it was all woven into every bit of his cursed, dark nature. The prince slowly licked his plump, soft lips, and for a moment, one could see the sharp tips of his fangs. 

You had no idea where to look, especially since Seonghwa didn't hide his nakedness but showed it openly. Your gaze slid down the expanse of his bare chest, his sharp collarbones, and his long neck, but you didn't raise your eyes to his godlike face, instead focusing your attention on the silky scarlet rose petals that adorned his skin.

All of the stories that you had heard from the people of your village were absolutely true. Not a single living soul had been able to leave that gloomy, grief-filled Gothic castle, and you couldn't imagine anyone willingly refusing Seonghwa's cold kiss, even if it was the last thing they would ever experience in their lives. Your attraction to him was magnetic, as natural as gravity, as natural as breathing, and so achingly tangible that you could feel it in every part of your body. 

There was complete silence in the room for a moment before his hand came up to your face, and the cold, wet touch of his fingers against your cheek sent a shiver down your spine. You tried not to breathe as he gently ran the tips of his fingers down the length of your cheek. At Seonghwa's silent command, you obediently lifted your head to look straight into those hypnotic, feline eyes, framed by the velvety lace of wet lashes. Your face burned, but at the same time, his mesmerising, bottomless gaze made you want to press your lips to the back of his palm and kiss the silky tips of his long fingers. The embarrassing thought made your mouth dry and your heart beat twice as fast in your chest.

"Aren't you beautiful, my love?" Seonghwa purred in a low, seductive tone. His luscious lips curled into a devilish smile that screamed danger and didn't bode well for you. But that sensual, soft curve of his mouth filled you with a semblance of imaginary safety, as if you were in no danger at all around him. In this scene, you're just a little mouse, and he's a snake, a coiled ring snake, ready to lethal strike.

"I…my prince, you shouldn't say that…" It was hard for you to get any words out of your mouth. You felt as if you were transparent, as if there was no longer any barrier between the air and your body.

"But it is, isn't it? You are so warm, so full of life. It's just too tempting for me to resist." He runs his long, slender fingers along your lips, pressing lightly until his sharp claws dig into the soft, pliant flesh, causing small drops of blood to rise. "I could kiss you right here." He bends down so that he's level with your face and his long tongue sticking out just to lick the blood drops from your lips. As soon as he has tasted you, Seonghwa lets out a deep, fulfilled groan and looks up at you with heavy, bottomless eyes full of animal hunger. "Or here..." Now his godlike face bends down to your neck, and his perfectly sculpted lips touch the spot where he can feel your pulse beating beneath thin skin.

A muffled half-moan escapes from your chest as his sharp incisors scrape lightly against you before Seonghwa begins to suck persistently at this sensitive area. His actions are making you squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to ease the warm throbbing of your pussy. The way your body reacts to his touch almost embarrasses you, but even if it weren't for his deeply sexual vampire nature that made everyone lose their mind with lust, you're not sure you'd react any differently. Vampire or not, there was no denying the temptation you felt for Seonghwa. 

"Or even here..." With light kisses, he moved down the length of your neck to the heaving ridges of your breasts above the deep neckline of your corsage. His tongue licked slowly over your skin, leaving a glistening trail of saliva in its wake. This sent a rush of pleasure through your veins and the excited heat flooded your face with a scarlet flush. "You thought about that when you came here this evening, didn't you? Did you imagine how I would drink from you, how I would fuck you?" He asks you in a voice that sounds like that of a dark angel. God, what he's doing to you makes you feel so needy and devastated. You're sure that if he asked you to get on your knees before him, you'd do it in a heartbeat. "You know, I can feel how wet you are for me, my love."

And what would you have been supposed to say to that? He was absolutely right about all of it, and you were so ashamed of this magnetic, otherworldly attraction that you felt for the prince.

"I... I don't know, my prince. I'm so sorry..." You whispered, your voice quivering with both embarrassment and excitement. Seonghwa's magnificent eyes sank into yours, and for a moment you thought you saw stars shining in them before he drew a long fingernail, a line down the column of your throat, past your collarbones, down to the centre of your chest. The vampire tilted his head thoughtfully, and you watched as a mischievous grin appeared on his plump, sensual lips.

"You're sorry, how sweet." He immerses himself fully in the water once more and then returns to his original position on the far side of the tub. "Take your clothes off. I want you to join me." 

The sudden shock of his words running through your body paralyses you for a moment, robbing you of any ability to respond to him at all. The silence between you lingers, and you swallow loudly when his eyes narrow and the mischievous expression disappears from his face, and you open your mouth to try to squeeze out words from yourself. 

"I'm not sure I can do that, my prince. Servants aren't supposed to..." Seonghwa didn't let you finish; he cut off your words with an elegant wave of his hand. 

"A servant is not allowed to disobey his master, and that is all you need to know. Now get undressed and come here; otherwise, I'll do it myself, and sweetheart, I can't guarantee that I'll be gentle with you." 

It was useless to argue with him any further, and instead you began to obediently unbutton your corsage, but every move seemed to be an extra effort, especially as Seonghwa's hypnotic, velvety gaze never left you for a second. Your hands trembled as you pulled your clothes off your warm skin, but you couldn't tell if it was from shame that Seonghwa would see you completely undressed or from the thrill of facing the most seductive predator that had ever existed. Or maybe it was from lust as dark and raw as the look in the prince's hypnotic feline eyes. 

The cool air hit your naked body as your clothes and underwear fell in an unnecessary heap at your feet, leaving you nude before him. 

"Don't make me repeat myself, my darling." Obeying his wish, you cautiously stepped over the edge of the luxurious bathtub and slowly lowered yourself into the warm water, which was full of blood-red rose petals. You pressed yourself against the cold marble behind you, trying to put as much distance between you as possible. Maybe it was the contrast in temperature, or maybe it was Seonghwa's intense gaze that gave your skin goosebumps.

The vampire sprawled out on the edge of the bathtub again, like a large wild cat. His body was curled up in the most seductive way, so that you could see every single muscle underneath his smooth, golden skin. Like everything about Seonghwa, his body was absolutely perfect—he was lean but strong, muscular but lean; every inch of his body was brought to painful perfection by something divine, something that you would never be able to understand because of your ordinariness, your humanity. 

"Come closer to me, my love." 

The rose petals swirled around you as you slowly approached him, your heart pounding in your chest at the impossibility of what was about to happen. Perhaps this was all just a dream, like hundreds of others like it—full of lewd images and lingering touches—and you could wake up any minute, cold and alone in your small bed, with a throbbing need between your legs like every other night you'd spent in this gothic castle. You still kept a small distance between you, hesitating to move any closer to him, and it was obvious that he didn't like it as he reached his clawed hand forward to grab hold of your elbow. 

"I said come closer..." Seonghwa growled in a low voice and pulled you towards him so that your back was pressed against his bare chest. His skin was as cold and smooth as marble, and you shuddered as the tips of his sharp nails ran along the length of your shoulder. 

On the opposite side of the bathtub was a huge mirror, framed in a massive gold frame and lit by a hundred or so melted candles. In the slightly hazy reflection, you could see the beautiful face of Seonghwa as he leaned over to you until his soft lips touched your ear. Your breath caught as the sharp edges of his teeth burned the delicate skin of your earlobe and his fingers slid across your collarbone. 

A soft moan slips from your pink, plush lips as you unconsciously arch up in Seonghwa's arms, pushing your large, plump breasts forward and pressing your ass against his massive, hard cock under the water. His beautiful hands cradle your boobs, squeezing them hard in the palms of his hands, and you almost gasp for breath as the prince presses his sensual mouth to your throat. 

"Look at me, my love. Don't you dare to close your eyes for even a second." You whimper at the sensation of his sharp teeth clawing at your skin, and a sharp, delicious shiver of pleasure runs between your legs. "Otherwise..." He kisses a sensitive spot on the side of your neck, just below your ear. A kiss that makes your pussy all wet and sticky. "I'm going to bite you, but it feels to me like it's exactly what you want so badly. I'm right, aren't I, sweetheart?" In the reflection of the mirror, you could see the way that his hands were slowly massaging your breasts. The light touch of his thumbs on your hard, sensitive nipples made you squirm and writhe. "You're so perfect." Seonghwa purred. "So warm and fragile, and you moan for me like a whore, even though you know that I hold your fleeting human life in the palm of my hand. I could kill you now, but considering how wet your pretty pussy is, that thought only turns you on, doesn't it?" The tone of his voice dropped to a whisper that was as eerily beautiful as the rustling of a thousand dead rose petals. 

Seonghwa's sharp teeth sink a little deeper into your neck, practically tearing the thin skin and drawing blood from it. 

Your mind tries desperately to find a coherent excuse for his words, and you unconsciously close your eyes. Your pulse speeds up as vivid images of Seonghwa drinking from you, slowly consuming your life, sip by sip as he fucks you, fill your mind, and send sparks of excitement flying across your skin. 

Seonghwa growls low, pulling you harder against him, and before you know it, his hand is around your throat, long clawed fingers clenching at the sides of your neck, cutting off the supply of oxygen to your airways. Your eyes roll back in ecstasy, the mixture of pain and pleasure threatening to send you into oblivion and some inexplicable part of you wishes he would squeeze his fingers more tighter.

"I told you to keep your eyes open for me." Seonghwa's cool breath touches your ear. "I am tired of your disobedience, my love. How dare you disobey your prince?" His fingers squeezed harder at your throat, and your eyes opened wide - big and frightened - as you began to gasp for air. Just as you felt the blackness coming to the edges of your vision and your consciousness starting to fog up, Seonghwa let go of you and let you breathe.

Trying to connect your thoughts is like wading through a swamp as the prince unclenches his fingers and pulls them away from your neck. Your eyes begin to water and your fingers clench into his hand, as if it might help you to breathe normally again. But Seonghwa doesn't seem to be finished punishing you for disobeying his orders. He grabs your swollen nipple and pinches it roughly, making you sob pitifully at the pleasantly painful sensation.

You still don't answer to him, and with each passing minute of your silence, Seonghwa's displeasure grows, and there is something dark and utterly evil in his eyes. His fingers moved slowly down the length of your thigh, leaving a trail of scalding cold in their wake, despite the fact that you were now in a warm bath. His lazy touches continued until they slid over the delicate, trembling folds of your pussy. And just like that, the pleasant heat that had been building up in your lower abdomen turned into lava that made you melt at the touch of his hand.

"Shall I forgive your disobedience, my love?" Seonghwa slides his fingers over your cunt, touching every inch of your sensitive skin, from your throbbing clit to your tight, wet entrance, spreading your essence over your folds, making them smooth and shiny. Each time they linger over your little hole, you tense reflexively in preparation for his penetration. "Or should I punish you? Should I teach you a lesson in the proper way to treat your prince?" 

"I... I... I think you should punish me, my prince." A gasping moan slips from your lips as your head rests on his shoulder, exposing most of your pale throat to him as Seonghwa slides a long finger inside you, pressing hard against the spongy front wall of your vagina. 

"You see? It's not so hard to do the right thing, dear. You could really use some discipline, you little slut." The prince pulls his finger out of your warm little pussy, and then abruptly stands up on his feet and pulls you up behind him until you are sitting in his arms. He carefully steps out of the tub, pulling you tightly against his wet, hard chest, and steps down from the podium where the marble bathtub stands. 

Seonghwa walks over to a large, time-worn chair that looks like a throne, lowers himself into it, and turns you over. You find yourself face down in his lap, your arse held up. As his fingers slide down your thighs, leaving red marks from his sharp claws, you let out a treacherous half-moan. 

"You look so good, all flushed, my love." Seonghwa's hands cupped your buttocks and squeezed them a few times before spreading them apart, exposing your glistening wet pussy to his gaze. The feel of the cold air on your delicate folds caused your hole to clench involuntarily.

Watching your juices flowing from your pussy, Seonghwa can't help but imagine how you would taste on his tongue and how it would feel to have your pretty pink cunt smothering him as you rock on his face while he eats your sweet dripping pussy juices. Seonghwa can't help but think what you would taste like when he sank his fangs into your little mound and mixed the rich, intoxicating taste of your blood with the essence of you. These thoughts cause him to let out a deep, velvety moan as he digs his fingers deeper into the plump flesh of your buttocks.

"Look at you love, you're absolutely wet, your pussy is literally flowing for me. Are you so excited to be punished? So desperate want to be an obedient, beautiful servant for me?"

"My prince…" The lust flowing through your veins is too strong for your brain to formulate the right words. When you feel Seonghwa's cold breath on your pussy, your pulse accelerates to the point where you almost feel dizzy. He blows lightly on your sticky, soft folds, making you twitch a little.

Nothing could have prepared you for the scalding sensation of his palm coming down hard on your bottom. You scream at the top of your lungs at the throbbing pain, but still more fluid flows from your pussy. Three more slaps land on your bottom, each one leaving a delicious ache. You savoured every second of this bliss that was supposed to be your punishment, although you were terribly ashamed to admit it. He continued to spank you until your screams turned into loud, pitiful sobs and your body began to shake. 

"You are shivering, my love. Are you cold?" Seonghwa let out a grim chuckle, knowing exactly what was making you shiver and squirm. "Then let me keep you warm, my love."

As you unconsciously braced yourself for another slap, a loud scream escaped your trembling lips, as instead of the scalding cold of his palm, you felt small drops of hot wax on your bottom. Each drop that fell on your skin left a throbbing pain in its wake, mixed with a strong sense of pleasure that made you sob and wriggle in his lap. The liquid wax was almost too hot for you. Almost. But if you wanted Seonghwa to drink from you, let alone fuck you, you had to get used to the pleasure of pain. 

"You have to see yourself now, my love. You are so submissive, so warm, and so wet, you excited little slut that you are. Was this what you wanted? You wanted me to punish you, my little darling. To make this slutty pussy all swollen and wet? Look at yourself." Suddenly, Seonghwa lifts you up and turns you around so that your back is pressed against his chest again. He runs his fingers lightly down your thighs before digging into the soft flesh and spreading your legs as wide as he can so that your wet folds are beautifully exposed and you can see your dripping cunt fully reflected in the mirror. 

He reaches down with one hand and slips two fingers into your hole while using the fingers of his other hand to massage your aching clit, making deliciously tight circles that make your hips buck unconsciously in an attempt to get more of that amazing feeling. 

"I have never been able to understand why you mortals take such pleasure in being treated like toys. Why you have such a craving for it..." Seonghwa purred in your ear and curled his fingers inside you, finding the point where you began to see stars and applying the perfect amount of pressure. Silenced by the soft whispers of shadows swirling in the darkness, the moan you let out echoed through the lord's chambers. "But seeing how desperate and pathetic you look now, how needy, I'm beginning to understand. You want someone to take control of you—someone powerful to rule you at will. And my love, you are so lucky that I can bring anyone I want to their knees. And you are no exception." He abruptly pulls his fingers out of you with an embarrassingly loud, wet sound, and you involuntarily let out a cry of loss. In the reflection of the mirror, you can see long, clear strands of your own slime dripping down his fingers. 

He brings the wet fingers to his sensual lips before his long tongue slips out of his mouth and wraps around them, licking up your juices. As he begins to taste you, Seonghwa lets out a deep moan of pleasure. 

"Now show me how beautiful you look on your knees before me, my little slut."

"At your command, my prince." You obediently obey Seonghwa's command and let yourself slip from Seonghwa's lap onto the cold stone floor. From your new position, the aching throbbing between your thighs becomes even more pronounced. As did the burning sensation on your inflamed buttocks.

Slowly, your eyes slid up the length of his delicious thighs before coming to rest on the massive, velvety length of his cock. Of course, his cock was as magnificent as the prince himself—large, wiry, and glistening with the abundant pre-cum that flowed from the dark pink, swollen head. You had had a few lovers before your escape from the village, but none of them had been anything like Seonghwa. Although you weren't a virgin and you knew how to treat a man and how to give him pleasure, you weren't sure if your meagre knowledge would be enough to please the gorgeous vampire prince.

You looked up at him with your big, shining eyes, and unconsciously, you licked your plump lips. You wanted to lick his cock. You wanted to take it in your warm mouth until you were choking on it. You wanted to make him proud of you, to want you to be that one who warmed his cold, solitary bed. But most of all, you wanted to be the source of his life, the immortal vessel that he would drink your life from like precious wine. All of these desires and feelings you had for the prince were humiliatingly embarrassing, and if it hadn't been for the way he looked at you—like a predator catching the tantalising scent of the prey he was about to hunt down—you would have burned with shame. But you were wrong about one thing: Seonghwa didn't look like a predator; he was a predator and the most dangerous and seductive one that ever existed. 

"My sweet little lady, you look so desperate right now." Seonghwa purred, one hand digging into the softness of your hair to pull your face even closer to his cock. "You can have a taste if you want it so badly."

You lean forward and gently stroke the wet and flushed head of his cock with your tongue, teasing it with light, cat-like licks. His chiselled chest, covered in glistening water droplets and soft rose petals, rises and falls with deep breaths. The textured muscles of his abdomen tense as you run your tongue along the silky length of his cock, outlining the seductively swollen vein with the tip of your tongue.

"You look so beautiful like this, kneeling in front of me with your soft lips wrapped around my cock." Seonghwa whispers in a voice so dark and deep that it hits you right in your cunt. It's precious—a sweet jewel of praise from the beautiful vampire prince, which you will wear like a good servant. But in spite of the sweet praise, you hear his direct command: "Take my cock in your mouth.".

It's unlikely you'll be able to get his thick cock all the way down your throat, but you wanted to try. Your lips open and the head of his cock slides easily into your mouth and for a second your tongue rests against his slit and you taste the thick, sweet taste of his cum. Seonghwa moans softly as the head of his cock is completely enveloped in the soft flesh of your lips. A seductive sound runs through your body like a thousand scalding kisses and you raise your eyes to look up at Seonghwa.

He is watching you, looking utterly wicked and like a god himself, wrapped in the thin skin of a man. The flames of the candle danced on the perfect features of his face, shining like a full moon in a world of endless night. His eyes were stars of otherworldly shadow - a depth of infinity that could crush the souls of those far more resilient than you. But it was his lips that most attracted you. They were unjustly obscene, swollen and sinfully scarlet. Temptation and lust are one, and you crave to taste it.

These thoughts make you swallow and unconsciously let his cock slide deeper into the silkiness of your mouth and the tightness of your throat. The nasty gagging sound that you make is so sexy that Seonghwa can't get enough of it. You look absolutely sinful, and it makes him want to possess every part of you. He wants to taste you in every sense, bind you to him, sink his sharp teeth into you, make you his immortal likeness, and then rape you to the deepest depths of time, making you scream like a whore—his whore.

"Come on, darling, take it deeper. Don't worry, every fluid in a vampire's body acts as an aphrodisiac. You'll be able to take my cock all the way down your pretty little throat. Now open your mouth wide for your prince. Seonghwa said and an evil gleam flashed in his eyes.

You could feel the velvety softness of his cock on your tongue, surrounded by the warmth of your mouth as you relaxed your jaw and let his cock slide deeper into your mouth. You take him halfway before you start to choke. Tears burn in your eyes as your lips stretch beautifully around his thick girth. Seonghwa's cock is so damn big for you. It's so heavy, pulsating in the melted, wet juices of your mouth. You wrap your hand around his balls, gently massaging and sometimes touching the base of the dick with your nails. You suck diligently on the head, occasionally letting your flexible tongue run along the slit where the pre-cum oozes out.

"That feels so damn good." The words fell from Seonghwa's plush lips as he threw his head back and rocked his hips a little. The long, midnight-coloured strands of his hair shone like a halo around the top of his head. "You're doing so well, my love. Just... just take my cock like a good maiden." His grip on your hair tightened, and you looked up at him with big, watery eyes, your cunt clenching at how dark the tone of his voice had become. 

"I'll do anything for you..." You moan loudly, drinking in every reaction Seonghwa gives you. Your desire to please him grows and grows.

You so desperately want to touch yourself between your legs, a small, shiny puddle of your mucus forming on the stone floor beneath you. You want to climb back onto his lap and let him fill you with his big, thick cock. You want to feel him in your belly, in your heart, and in your blood. 

You take him deeper, relaxing your throat and bending your head down until your nose touches the smooth skin of his pubic bone. Reflexively, you swallow around him, eliciting deep moans of pleasure from his sensual lips.

"Bloody hell... Mmm. You are such a good little slut." Hwa purrs as he begins to thrust his hips into your mouth. 

His cock plunges down your throat again and again, leaking copious amounts of pre-cum mixed with your drool, filling your mouth with intoxicating sweetness each time he pulls his cock out, until only the silky hot head is left in your mouth and your tongue rests against his slit. As his cock sank fully back into your throat, his hand slid down to massage your distended throat, feeling the bulging hardness of his own cock through the delicate wall of your neke.

Whatever restraint he had before was broken by the feeling of the warm walls of your throat contracting around him and the pleasurable pressure of his hand on your neck. Seonghwa begins to thrust his cock down your throat fast and hard, a flood of praise from his lips that makes you glow with pleasure.

"You have such a perfect mouth for me, my love. It is perfect for me to fuck. Make me come, my love. I want to fill your mouth with my cum." The combination of his gorgeous body above you, glistening from the water and decorated with rose petals, the sensual praise—full of dirty, lewd words—and the way he uses your throat make you even wetter. You feel a new load of mucus pouring out of your pussy. " Look at how your throat is swelling from my cock and how the saliva is dripping from your mouth. You're enjoying this too much, aren't you? You have made such a mess on the floor; do you want me to force you to lick it up with your tongue?

You moo in response to his words. The contraction of your throat around his cock almost makes you gasp as the tender walls fit tightly around the thick, velvety length, clenching incredibly hard around it. His hips twitch, his cock pulsates, and the grip on your hair becomes brutal, but it only elicits more moans from you, vibrating along the length of his cock in the most amazing way. 

Seonghwa pushed his dick into your mouth once more before he came. It was a mesmerising sight, almost hypnotic: the thrusts of his hips were interrupted, his soft, obscenely sensual, swollen lips parted in a deep, ecstatic moan, and his body shook as his orgasm overwhelmed him. A thick, sweet cum shot down your throat, and you began to swallow the copious stream of his pleasure. His sperm was nothing like the salty, almost bitter taste of human sperm, and you marvelled again at how everything about vampires was designed to lure and intoxicate their victims in every way possible. 

As he pulled away, his sperm began to spill out of your mouth, running down your chin and dripping onto the floor, where the puddle of your slime grew larger. Seonghwa reached his hand up to your face and ran his fingers over your swollen lips. He gathered the thick, pearly liquid on his fingertips, then pushed it into your open, pliable mouth.

"Such a good girl." Seonghwa murmured as your tongue wrapped around his fingers and cleaned them. 

When he pulled his fingers out of your mouth with a slight 'pop', you lifted your watery eyes back to his. Long trails of tears shone like diamonds across the puffy, flushed cheeks of your face. 

"My prince, I beg you. I need to come so badly. Please let me come, my prince, please. My pussy so needs it." You begged, almost whimpering, as you lay at his feet. In the bliss that followed his orgasm, he gently cupped your cheek, even stroking your hair lightly with his other hand, and looked lovingly at you with his bottomless dark eyes. His long, fluffy lashes fluttered like a dying sun in the purple twilight, glittering in all the colours of the spectrum in the dim light of the bath.

"Oh, my little lady, let your prince make you feel better." Seonghwa cooed. His voice was a velvety purr wrapped in darkness.

Seonghwa rises up from his chair in an elegant manner and holds out a graceful hand for you to help you to your feet. Your fingers tremble as you take his hand and slowly rise, almost stumbling on your wobbly, shaky legs, but Seonghwa's firm grip prevents you from falling. The prince's tall, naked body towers over you like an ancient, dark deity, making you feel small and vulnerable under the weight of his bottomless, black gaze. He wraps his long, cold fingers around your chin and lifts your face up so that you're looking straight at him. 

At that moment, the room seems to shrink, and the air is filled with something sensual, hot, and dark. Something that almost makes your skin tingle with a sharp, glass-like arousal. The otherworldly presence of the prince was undeniable—a dangerous dance between living and dying. A loud sob escaped from your lips, which were still covered in the remnants of semen, as Seonghwa leaned closer to you, his beautiful, plump lips hovering just a few inches away from yours. 

"Now it's my turn to have a taste of you, my love." The first touch of his plush lips against yours sent a dizzying rush of excitement up and down your spine. You let out a loud moan into his beautiful, soft mouth as Seonghwa's long tongue pushed your lips apart and immediately took hold of your mouth. His kiss is all-consuming and devouring, as if he wants to devour your very soul and take you over the edge of life with him. He ravages your soft lips with an intensity that borders on sadistic pleasure, and you are so intoxicated by the kiss that you almost don't notice when his sharp teeth sink into your innocent lower lip and your mouth fills with thick blood.

When too much of the viscous, saturated liquid gathers in your mouth, you reflexively swallow, feeling a lingering metallic taste on your tongue, which disappears almost immediately, licked away by Seonghwa's long, flexible tongue, which wraps around your tongue like a snake. One of his hands is tangled in your hair, long fingers tugging painfully at the soft strands, causing a palpable burning sensation on the delicate skin of your head. With his other hand, he wraps around your waist and pulls you closer to his cold, hard body, using this rough grip to restrict your movements. 

You give a little moan against his lips, almost relishing the pain you're feeling—the hot excitement in your stomach twisted into a knot—too tight and painful to ignore. The insides of your thighs are uncomfortably sticky and wet, and you have to squeeze your legs together to ease the throbbing in your needy cunt. 

Your blood tastes of black roses, forgotten poems, confessions of love—it burns all of Seonghwa's senses, and you feel rather than hear him purr softly with pleasure—a velvety, decadent, almost animal sound coming from deep inside his chest. He continues to greedily lap up the blood from your mouth, sliding his tongue over your palate, your gums, and the inside of your cheek. Seonghwa roughly pulls your wounded lower lip into his vicious mouth, only to bite down on it with his sharp teeth, causing more of your blood to drip onto his tongue. 

The kiss seems endless, and your mind begins to drift; you feel like you're delirious from the feeling of the cold heat of his beautiful, sensual mouth. The spiral of lust inside you tightens; the pressure builds until it becomes too much for you to bear, and for a long, eternal moment, it seems to you that Seonghwa wants to keep you at that height forever. You barely notice when his hand releases your waist and slips between your bodies, and you squeal loudly, pulling yourself away from his incredibly seductive lips as his cold fingers suddenly pinch your sensitive clit. 

"Oh, my God. That's so... Too m-m-much...' You stammer out your words, unable to form sentences; the pain and the pleasure mix together, and you feel completely intoxicated. 'My prince, please...' As his fingers rub relentlessly against your clit, you can't stop yourself from moaning loudly. The pressure inside you increases as you rise higher and higher, but the lack of any particular rhythm makes it difficult for you to come to the edge, and the intensity of his touch becomes almost overwhelming for you.

"What's the matter, my darling? Does your sweet pussy still hurt? Don't I make it easier for you? Or are you just a greedy little bitch that has a craving for more?" The deep purr of his voice vibrates through your body as his fingers begin to roughly squeeze your clit. 

You let out a helpless moan in response to his words; the sound you make is full of both need and desire. All you can think of now is that Seonghwa is using you, that he is destroying you so thoroughly and so brutally that his mark will be imprinted on your body and your soul forever. 

"Oh, I can see it now. You're just like all the thousands of other people—a pathetic, ungrateful whore." Seonghwa suddenly lets go of your hair, and your head falls back like a doll's. And God, in all of his eternity, Seonghwa has never seen anyone more beautiful than you, especially when you have crystal tears rolling down your soft, flushed cheeks. You remind him of a broken porcelain doll, fragile and delicate, which he can glue back together in any way he likes.

"Please forgive me... Forgive me, my  prince." In the midst of this chaos of sensations, you catch a glimpse of his eyes. The Prince's black velvet eyes, heavy and clouded, his sensual lips, swollen and smeared with your blood, and his magnificent face have taken on a kind of waxy appearance—features smoothed to a painful perfection that could never exist among the living, like the face of a saint descended from an icon. It's almost frightening, but at the same time, it makes you want to beg him all the more desperately. Please let me cum, my prince. I need to cum so badly...'

"Oh, my love...' Seonghwa purrs indulgently, admiring the hot tears that are rolling down your face as his cold fingers continue to circle around your swollen clit. Your legs are trembling from his touch, and you have the feeling you could faint at any moment. As his two long fingers, wet with your own slime, slide into your quivering hole, you catch your breath and gasp for air. You're so sensitive to the slightest touch, and Seonghwa takes advantage of that, pressing his fingers against the silky walls of your pussy, causing you to arch your hips towards him in the hope of more stimulation. "Just look at you, my little darling. You're crying so sweetly for me. Begging so sweetly for your prince charming to have his way with your pretty pussy." The tone of his voice is like velvet wrapped in the darkness of the night, and his feline eyes glow with a kind of otherworldly evil that can barely be contained in the black, unfathomable depths of his irises. 

The heavy fog of lust completely envelops your mind, and you barely register his words. The prince's fingers dig deep into the tightness of your plush, plump cunt, and Seonghwa draws the cold, velvety pads of his fingers to press and rub the sweet, sticky spot in your pussy. He does it roughly and sharply, and he doesn't stop stimulating the over-excited, spongy walls of your cunt until your mucus begins to flow into the palm of his hand.

"It's too much... It's too much, my prince. I can't take it anymore. I can't. Ah, please, please! Seonghwa."

"But am I not merciful to you, my dear? Does not the touch of my hand soothe the pain, my love?" With his other hand, he cups your breast, squeezing and twisting the tender nipple between his fingers as he goes. "Do you want me to stop?" He asks as he relentlessly inserts a third finger into your squelching pussy, and the stretching of your little hole becomes both agonising and pleasurable at the same time.

'No!' You cry out, shaking your head desperately, the walls of your cunt clinging to his fingers, clenching and throbbing around the long appendages that are adorned with massive rings of precious stones, as the wave of pleasure slowly begins to roll over you. "No. Don't stop... Please don't stop, my prince. I want you to keep going... I'm too close."

Seonghwa laughs darkly as she leans down to your neck and lightly bites down on the spot where your pulse beats with her sharp teeth, almost feeling your orgasm on her tongue. 

"Will you cum for me? Cum on the fingers of your prince?" You feel like you're soaring, higher and higher, and just when you have the feeling you're about to reach your peak, the pleasure evaporates and you plummet. The loss of your orgasm makes you give a pathetic whimper.

"No, I beg you. Please, my prince...' You sob as Seonghwa pulls his fingers out of you completely, leaving your greedy, needy hole clutching at nothing, desperately trying to hold on to the melting remains of your orgasm. You collapse next to him, becoming like a beautiful, broken thing in his hands, looking up at him with your beautiful, crying eyes, begging for his mercy. 'Sonhawa...' His name tastes of violence, of the Middle Ages, holiness, and sex, and it leaves a stigma on your lips the moment you utter it. 

'Oh, my poor little girl.' A fake sense of pity fills his voice as he ignores the way your wounded lower lip quivers at the loss of relief and the way more tears flow from your eyes. A devilish smile blossoms on his gorgeous, plump lips before his hand returns to your wet clit and begins to rub the super-sensitive bundle of nerves in slow, hard, figure-eight motions. "I'm so sorry, my love, but it's not up to you whether you can have an orgasm or not. You should be grateful for what I am giving you." The vampire purrs, running his tongue along the sweet spots of your neck before sinking his teeth into the soft skin. Under the pressure of fangs as sharp as broken glass, the skin tears like paper. You squeal at the pain that ripples through your veins, but the sensation fades quickly as his fingers sink back into the silky warmth of your tight cunt. 

Seonghwa pushes his thumb down to press it against your slippery clit and rubs it roughly. And you instinctively squeeze your legs together, squeezing the plump flesh around his forearm as if that will stop the relentless stimulation of his fingers on your G-spot and his thumb on your swollen, throbbing clit. He lets out a deep, dark moan into your skin, kisses your neck, and licks the protruding drops of blood from you.

You're such a mess; your cum is dripping down the inside of your thighs, dripping onto the floor, and the sound your cunt makes every time his fingers go in and out of you is disgustingly wet, squelching, and utterly sinful. 

The prince watches you go dumb and twitchy under his touch. He plunges his long fingers even deeper into the wet, velvety walls of your cunt and bends them so that the pads of his fingers press perfectly against your golden spot, causing your sticky, wet fluid to squirt profusely all around you. He laughs as you squeal and squirm.

"That's right, my love, make me dirty. Fill this room with the divine fragrance of your excitement." He rubs your cunt randomly, and it makes your legs shake. You gasp at the sobs and moans that echo through his bathtub, echoing with such a loud, deafening echo that you're sure the sound is reverberating throughout the castle. Your brain is clouded in a haze, and all you can feel is Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Seonghwa....

As if he hadn't just ripped the most intense orgasm out of you, the prince pushes his fingers back into your plump cunt, and you shudder, your pussy clenching and a pearly, slippery drop dripping from your wounded hole. 

"I can't take it anymore... don't need to...' He ignores you, preferring to sink his fingers deeper into your plush walls, your tongue flicking out of your mouth as you breathe heavily.

"Wasn't that what you wanted, dear? This is exactly what you asked me so desperately for, isn't it? I'm just giving it to you. You will cum again. And you will do this until I decide you've had enough." Seonghwa tells you and does not give you a chance to disobey his order. His fingers are thrusting faster and faster into the sloppy mess of your cunt, and your eyes are closing in a euphoria of pleasure, and you are arching your whole body to him. The beautiful veins on his forearms are surging up as he touches your cunt. "Come on, my love, behave yourself, and submit to your prince." Seonghwa twists his wrist, his fingers sliding up and down until they come to rest on your G-spot, and you squeal in exhaustion as you squirt your cum all over his gorgeous body, soiling it. The slime pools on his palm and drips onto the inside of your thigh, and he leans down to touch his lips to your open mouth as he pulls his fingers out of your used, burning pussy. He softly massages your thighs and licks your lips soothingly in a strange imitation of a kiss.

You groan as the last waves of your orgasm begin to subside, but even so, you're still a long way from the satisfaction you crave. The distant thought of the aphrodisiac in his seed floats to the edge of your consciousness, but it disappears instantly, replaced by a burning need to be filled by his cock and a feeling that you may die if he doesn't satisfy that need.

'Please. I want you, I need you, and I want to feel you inside my body. There is nothing else that matters to me, my prince." There is pure desperation in the sound of your voice. 

Seonghwa pulls away from you and watches as you gasp for breath and shiver as you look up at him through your thick, wet lashes.

"You really are nothing but a greedy little slut. Seonghwa whispers as he digs his fingers into your thighs and lifts your body up as if you weighed nothing, manoeuvring you so that your legs are wrapped around his thin, perfect waist. The head of his hard cock touches the entrance of your vagina between your slick, swollen folds. "You're so lucky your blood isn't the only thing that draws me, my love." He begins to walk slowly along the length of the tub, carrying you in his arms as if you were a fragile doll. 

There is darkness in his bedroom; the thick, icy cold fills the room and tingles on your heated skin like a hundred needles. As Seonghwa gently lays you down on his royal bed, wrapped in silken sheets, you freeze, waiting for him to touch you. He leans over you like a dark angel that has descended from the heavens to destroy you, and you open your lips to catch his ghostly breath in your mouth as he speaks.

"From the moment you entered my chambers, I could feel the sweetness of your cunt on my tongue; you're aroused; you need me so obviously." His teeth graze the skin of your throat as he speaks. 'I can feel it in your blood...' For half a second, you feel the sharp pressure of his fangs as they press against the pre-existing wounds from his previous bite. It makes every muscle in your body tingle with the anticipation of pleasure. "It is tempting and seductive, but I have a taste for you in so many more ways, my love." There was a heavy pause between you as his gaze slid down the length of your body and stopped at your glistening pussy. 'And I'm really spoilt to choose. But are you up to it, my little servant? Can you, can you satisfy my insatiable hunger?'.

His words make your toes clench, and the pleasure in your belly grows once again, turning into a real flame that lies in your veins, and you let out a long moan, filled with longing and desperation. 

"I will do whatever you want me to do, my prince. I will be anything you need me to be...'

Seonghwa doesn't answer you but instead begins to kiss your neck, slowly moving his kisses down to your heaving, plump breasts. He raises his hypnotic eyes towards you, and his lashes flutter as the vampire teases your swollen pink nipple with the tip of his sharp tongue. Your body arches up over the bed, your breath catching in your throat as he sucks the sensitive bud into the silkiness of his warm mouth. His tongue splashes and swirls around your nipple as he sucks on your breast before he releases it from his mouth with a wet sound.

"The human body has always been such a fascination to me—so soft, so delicate, so responsive to every fleeting touch." He whispers as he continues to slowly kiss your body. Seonghwa runs his tongue over your navel and licks the skin of your belly. He takes his time; he has an eternity of time, and this knowledge is driving you crazy. You shudder as his elegant palms come to rest on your thighs and as he spreads your legs wide so that your cunt is completely exposed to his gaze. With his supernatural eyesight, you knew that he would be able to see every detail of you in the half-light of the bedroom. Your heart began to beat faster and faster in anticipation of what you knew was going to happen next. The lingering feeling of your previous orgasm was once again tingling you from the inside. 

Seonghwa sits down between your legs, and you let out a stifled cry as he brings his godlike face close to your pussy and runs his tongue between the sticky folds. 

He immediately lifts his eyes to you, the flames of the candle reflected in his dark irises, the black abyss of them pulling you down into an endless, lustful wasteland. His hands are wrapped around your hips, pulling you closer to him. The pleasure wraps itself tightly around the base of your spine. Seonghwa's tongue licks your clit hard, the exquisite taste of you tingling it, tingling it under the marble-gold skin where the black vampire blood splashes hotly in veins. 

Your juices ooze out onto his tongue and onto his lips, dripping down to where the insides of your thighs are reddened by his sharp claws. He drags his tongue along your folds in slow, teasing licks, savouring the taste of you as he feasts on your cunt, so wet and sweet, so juicy and plump under his tongue. Your hips arch forward, and Seonghwa allows you to be pressed even closer to his beautiful face. The palms of his hands slide down your thighs, and you feel how his thumbs push your labia apart, just so that he can slide his tongue deep into your wet hole. A series of high-pitched moans escape from your mouth as you run your fingers through his long black hair, your nails digging into the skin of his scalp as you do so. 

"It tastes so damn sweet; you're like a wine that has been aged for centuries, intoxicating and scorching. I've never tasted anything like it before." The vampire purrs into your sensitive cunt, burying his face even deeper between your legs, his skilful tongue and his sharp nose rubbing against your clit, giving you heavenly pleasure in all the right places.

His mouth continues to move along your overly sensitive nerves, and he smiles as you begin to twitch and shake. The sensation is overwhelming, and you begin to sob openly again. 

"My prince, that feels so good... ahh!" A particularly loud moan comes out of you as his tongue curls round and touches your g-spot.

With the pad of his thumb, Seonghwa begins to run circles over your clit, and you begin to thrash around on the silk sheet, trying to get away from the abusive touch on your painfully throbbing clit. Seonghwa growls and slaps you viciously on your thigh, which manages to calm you down, before he hides his face between your legs once more and continues to tease your essence. Pain and pleasure merge together, and you can't tell where dreaming ends and reality begins. So many nights you've spent in vivid fantasy dreams, full of images that would get you burned at the stake if the people of your village ever found out. And here you are, lying in your prince's luxurious bed while he eats you as if his life depended on it.

Feeling his tongue between your velvety walls and his thumb circling your clit, occasionally scratching it with his sharp fingernail, the sensation of your orgasm has crept up on you. With his heightened senses, he knows you're close, and he's balancing on the edge of coming. One more stroke of his tongue, one more rub of his fingers over your clit, and your walls begin to clench together in the spasms of an overwhelming orgasm.   The edges of your vision go black, your sight fading as you fly off the cliff and fall into an abyss of pleasure. Your head is thrown back, and your spine is arched in a perfect arc of sin and bliss. 

An approving purr escapes Seonghwa's devilishly beautiful lips as your cunt twitches and clings to his tongue as he continues to splash in the copious slime that pours out of you, lapping up your release, insatiable and deaf to your pleas as you begin to squirm. Any attempt to wriggle away from him is crushed by the rough grip of his hand on your thigh. The nails dig into the plump flesh, drawing out your blood. Rivers of scarlet, like divine tears, flow down your scarred skin and drip down onto the bed. 

'Seonghwa...' His name rings out on your lips as his own lips continue to press passionately and relentlessly against your pussy, sucking and licking, greedily swallowing up all the liquid that flows from you. His jaw moves smoothly and somehow lazily as your body almost rises to meet another orgasm. Your fingers clench tightly in his hair, your moans and squeals blend together in a symphony of pure bliss, and you come again on his tongue, even harder than before. 

Your body is shaking in never-ending ecstasy. Ecstasy burns your body and turns it to ashes. Tears flow from the corners of your eyes as he licks you thoroughly and gently, until your body is completely boneless and soft to the touch. 

After a few agonisingly long moments, he pulls away from your cunt and blows lightly on the inflamed, abused folds after his caresses, and you shiver as his cold, ghostly breath touches your flesh. Seonghwa's chin is wet with the viscous slime of you and his own saliva. He stares at you, enjoying the sight of your helplessness and vulnerability, all of you at his mercy. The vampire can see the sheen of your juices spreading down the inside of your thighs and dripping from your swollen, reddened centre. 

You've slowly come down from your high, still swimming in a lustful haze, and even though you've had several orgasms, you're still not satisfied. You need more. Much more. Seonghwa was absolutely right—you're nothing but a greedy human whore. 

"Please... You barely squeezed out. Please fuck me... " You desperately wanted to feel him inside you. You wanted him to writhe with the pleasure of your blood and body, as you did with his favour. 

"Do you want more? Greedy, insatiable whore." Seonghwa purred, his black eyes glowing with an almost otherworldly radiance in the darkness of the bedroom. "What are you going to give me in return, my love? Shouldn't you be thanking your prince?"

You turn your head faintly to expose your neck and hear a dark, velvety laughter licking your skin before his chubby lips find a tender spot on your throat. Weightless kisses that turn to nibbles, and you whimper under his care. He hasn't hurt your skin yet; he is playing skillfully with you, and a slight feeling of unease grips you. The lack of control over your body, over where and when he would bite you, or over how rough he would be with you, was a big part of your nervousness. 

Too quickly for you to notice, one of his hands cupped your chin to hold you in place, and then the sharp pain of his fangs pierced your throat. As he began to drink, a muffled moan escaped your mouth. The shock of his cold bite passed through your body like an icy wave. Seonghwa's hypnotic eyes closed as your thick, precious blood ran over his tongue. The sensation was a temporary respite from the incessant hunger that plagued him, dulling the cravings and soothing his stomach. His plump lips curled into a smile as he pressed harder against your skin. 

He let go of your chin and placed his hand on your chest instead, gently squeezing the plump flesh. The possessive, intimate touch of his hand contrasted sharply with the sting of his fangs. It soothed you strangely, and the tension in your body eased. You could also feel the hardness of his big, thick cock against your thigh. 

Seonghwa could feel your pulse fluttering beneath his lips; his pace was fast and weakened by the rapid loss of blood. He should have stopped, unless he wants to completely exhaust your body now. The lord pulls away from you as he feels the saturation of your blood—your life flowing through his veins—the blood thickening and becoming viscous, turning a shade of deep night darkness. A sweet moment when your life becomes his. 

You try to focus your blurry gaze on him as Seonghwa pulls away from you. He smears the blood running down his chin with his fingers and licks the residue off his pads. 

"You're perfect. The most delicious food I've tasted in centuries of my life. There's something special in your blood...' Seonghwa whispers, caressing your cheek, brushing the dishevelled hair from your flushed face, and wiping away the tears that remain on your lashes. "I don't think I could ever get enough of you."

You had absolutely no energy to answer him and just lay there, melting under his touch. He continues to touch you lightly until Seonghwa leans down to suck on your nipple, his tongue swirling over it in slow, deliberate movements. Your back arched, and your lips parted in a soft moan. For a few minutes, he just enjoys the feel of your soft nipple in his mouth. He slowly sucks your breasts, and the next moment he lifts your legs and wraps them around his slender waist. 

Seonghwa wraps his hand around his cock and runs the thick, wet head of it over your trembling, sensitive folds a couple of times before she pushes it into you. The feel of his cock stretching your walls is almost immediately the trigger for another orgasm. You moaned loudly at the long-awaited feeling of being filled. Seonghwa has stretched you out so beautifully and pressed himself perfectly against your silky, smooth walls, which are covered with your juices. 

He slowly enters you with his whole massive length; you are so sensitive that you can feel every inch of him and every vein on your walls so clearly that it's almost painful. You press your hips against his, desperate for friction. Seonghwa grins as he begins to move, dragging his cock along your quivering walls and letting out a deep moan every time the delicate edges of your hole cling to the head of his cock. 

His beautiful eyes focus on your face as he moves, narrowing with his sly smile as he finds the perfect angle to make your eyes roll with pleasure.

"Look at me, my love." Seonghwa ordered. "I want to have a look into your eyes while I fuck you into oblivion."

You force yourself to meet his gaze, and the prince purrs in endorsements as he begins to thrust in and out of you at a rapid pace, thrusting so hard into your tight, squirming pussy that you can almost feel his cock in the back of your throat. Your mind goes completely blank as his cock comes all the way out of you before he plunges back into your inviting warmth all the way down to the base of his dick. The rhythm is rough and brutal, but it feels almost like heaven to you.

"You're such a good girl. Look how well you're taking it. You know, vampires can go into a frenzy when they fuck. But you're not afraid of that, are you?" The way you're tensed up and the way you're trembling underneath him almost brings him to the brink of madness, but Seonghwa holds back his animal urges and slows down his pace instead. 

You let out a wordless cry, completely lost in nothing but the obscene sound of your copulation—the sticky slap of skin against skin. 

"I am going to fill you with so much of my cum that it will drip from you for days, my love." Seonghwa wants to mark you in every possible way; he wants to tie you up; he wants to bite you; he wants to breed you. He wants you to belong only to him—to his world, to his darkness, to his blood, and to his own kind. "Everyone will have the knowledge that you are mine, for they will have the smell of my blood and my seed on you." He breathes into your ear as his pace picks up, and he sets an agonising rhythm, each movement of his cock hitting that special place inside of you.

'Seonghwa!' Your walls squeeze against him even harder than before as another orgasm begins to creep closer to you.  The prince presses his fingers against your clit, and then presses his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. As his mouth slides so passionately over your lips, as his thumb strokes in circles around your quivering clit, and as his thick cock slides in and out of you, the heat that is building up inside of you becomes almost unbearable. 

"Mmm, you feel so good." He tells you, running his tongue over your trembling lower lip. "You will belong to me forever.".

The thought that Seonghwa could turn you into a vampire and spend the rest of eternity with you was enough to bring you to orgasm. Uncontrollable pleasure engulfed your entire body. Seonghwa moaned velvetily, resting his face against your neck as you began to come. Your silky walls squeezed his cock as your climax plunged your consciousness into complete darkness. The pace of his thrusts quickened, and before long, he was muffling your cries of pleasure with his mouth, devouring every lewd sound that managed to escape from you.

"My prince... Seonghwa...' You managed to breathe out against the lips of his mouth. 'I want to be with you forever... I want you to be inside me...'

Your words filled him with a lust that was far greater than his thirst for blood, and soon he was inside of you as deep as he could go, his cock twitching as he found his own orgasm. He came in your pussy, filling you with his thick, viscous cum as he called out your name in a hoarse voice. 

After a few moments, Seonghwa came out of you and gave you a chance to catch your breath. The mixture of his cum and your own juices slowly poured out of your used pussy and started to drip down onto the sheets. 

"And you will, my love. You certainly will.'

Dressed in an ancient coronation robe, the gorgeous vampire prince circles the precious crystal coffin, his fingertips lightly stroking the cold, smooth crystal. The sneaky light of the somnambulistic stars falls on your face like the veil of a bride. He had arranged you here in all luxury: your hair was covered with diamond powder, glittering in the lace of the moonlight; he had painted your lips a delicate scarlet, the same colour as the cheeks of the radiant seraphim in church frescoes; and under your tongue he had placed petals of black violets, soaked in his midnight blood. Your body was wrapped in the most luxurious antique lace, embroidered with mother-of-pearl tears of dragons and pearls from the bottom of the sea. 

You were so beautiful... seductive, like a deadly flower that lures prey before swallowing it whole.

As he arranged hundreds of black velvet roses around your fragile body, a shy softness tinted his godlike face. Thorny rose bushes bloomed around the coffin as the castle of fairytales turned into a tomb with only one living soul. 

"You're in no danger now." Seonghwa whispered, stroking your beautiful hair. "Nothing can harm you now, and you will always be my love. Always and forever..."

Seonghwa is seated at a small round table and is playing his leisurely game with the fates. The elegant hands of the beautiful Dweller of Darkness skillfully guide the Hand of Fate. He spreads the tarot cards, tirelessly constructing endless constellations of indeterminate probabilities. One by one, Seonghwa turns over the ancient, worn cards, the corners of his devilishly sensual lips curving slightly as he sees the familiar layout: Lovers, Death, Empress, Love, Eternity, Beloved. The gaze of his fathomless, hypnotic eyes turns to you—his majestic bride, awaiting her awakening.

It's always been this way and always will be: people avoid the village that stands by the ominous Gothic castle in the middle of a dead rose garden, where, according to ancient legend, the beautiful Midnight Prince and his gorgeous bride keep the guilty legacy of their bloodthirsty ancestors. 

[arki-sha]

Ateez Fic Recommendations

OT8/ Poly Ateez

This list will contain my favorite ateez fics to date so I definitely recommend to check them out.

Recommendations for each members will be posted soon!

💖 Fluff 💢 Angst ❤️‍🔥 Smut

Series

💖 Fated (Soulmate AU OT8 x Reader) by @callmeagardengnome

💖💢❤️‍🔥 Into the Aurora (Idol AU OT8 x Reader) by @honeyhotteoks

💖💢❤️‍🔥 Their Pretty Lady (Demon AU OT8 x Reader) by @written-in-flowers

💖💢❤️‍🔥 Circus (Hybrid AU OT8 x Reader) by @lani-heart

💖❤️‍🔥 Whichever Way (Neighbors AU Woosan x Reader) by @igbylicious

💖💢❤️‍🔥 The Library of Illusion (Fantasy AU OT8 x Reader) by @kwanisms

💖💢❤️‍🔥 Hotel California (Yandere Demon AU OT8 x Reader) by @mint-yooxgi

💖💢❤️‍🔥 Inception (Dragon Hybrid AU OT8 x Reader) by @remedyx

💖💢❤️‍🔥 This Night Together (Omegaverse Alpha Yungi x Omega Reader) by @honeyhotteoks

💖❤️‍🔥 Time of Love (Social Media AU Woosan x Reader)

💖❤️‍🔥 The Husband Series (Husbands AU Seonghwa and Yunho x Reader) by @honeyhotteoks

💖💢❤️‍🔥 Deep Down (Omegaverse Idol AU OT8 x Reader) by @seventhcallisto

Oneshots

💖❤️‍🔥 And They Were "Roommates" (Boyfriend AU OT8 x Reader) by @frenchkisstheabyss

💢❤️‍🔥 Blinding Faith (Cult AU Yungi x Reader) by @kitten4sannie

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[kflixnet]

Check out our member Bai's fic!!

Impressionism

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, I see-”

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

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

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

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

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

“L/N Y/N, and I, too, love art.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Elusive, aren’t they?”

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

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

“Two of us who are searching?”

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

“Then we can keep searching together.”

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

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

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

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

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

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

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

“There are private clinics?”

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

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

“Ah, yes, I see-”

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

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

“Careful-”

“Sorry wha-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How so?”

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

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

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

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

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

“This really is a rainy day,”

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

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

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

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

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

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

“You don’t have to-”

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

“...I’d like that.”

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

“What?”

“Nothing at all.”

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

“Pissarro.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know. I can wait too.”

“Soon, my love.”

“I-I know.”

“I miss you.”

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

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

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

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

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

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

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

“N-no, barely. The sweater is silly-”

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

“Seonghwa-”

“Work can wait, I just need to-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shh-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What were you scared of?”

“Losing you again.”

“Well, I am here, aren’t I?”

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

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

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

“But they didn’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[callmeagardengnome]

☕︎ fated ☕︎ | ATEEZ

pairings ᯓᡣ𐭩 idol! individual! ateez x fem!reader

genre ᯓᡣ𐭩 soulmate au, one-shot, fluff, hints of angst (?) but like idk honestly

synopsis ᯓᡣ𐭩 soulmarks are a thing - some being more clear and direct and some offering very little guidance. everyone is born with one, though they can manifest at any time. with all the different types of soulmarks today, what would you do to find your soulmate?

˚ʚ colour me rainbow ɞ˚ [kim hongjoong x fem! reader]

.

˚ʚ taste of you ɞ˚ [park seonghwa x fem! reader]

.

˚ʚ dreamy believer ɞ˚ [jeong yunho x fem! reader]

.

˚ʚ written in skin ɞ˚ [kang yeosang x fem!reader]

.

˚ʚ sore thumb ɞ˚ [choi san x fem!reader]

.

˚ʚ paint my world ɞ˚ [song mingi x fem!reader]

.

˚ʚ miles across ɞ˚ [jung wooyoung x fem!reader]

.

˚ʚ in my head ɞ˚ [choi jongho x fem!reader]

SERIES TAGLIST [OPEN] - @cara-rey @hwasbabygirl @chngbnwf @passerbyforfun @butterfliesinthenightsky @ismelllikechlorine247 @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @forever-atiny @arki-sha @la-undercover-latina

author’s note: some titles or stories may change in the future! i also dont write smut so if you’re into that please go somewhere else 😗

other fics

[ldysmfrst]

Incomplete (1) - A Pull to Where?

Paring: Ateez OT8 x Plus-sized FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 1 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 3,376  

Word count for Story: 3,376  

Genre: Idol Soulmate AU

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This story will contain a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does not really contain anything to warn about. (let me know if I am wrong)

Story Summary: Ateez are soulmates who earned their way to Fame once they found each other. What happens when a new pull comes during their Towards The Light World Tour? Does 8 really make 1?

INCOMPLETE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

“I can’t believe it! We are all here for the LA concert! This will be the first time for us. I am so proud of everything and love you all,” exclaimed Hongjoong. Looking around BMO stadium quickly before the VIP ticket holders came in, he could not believe they finally made it after six years. 

“All thanks to our wonderful Captain,” Seonghwa says as he back-hugs his shortest soulmate. “Did you see the lines are already starting to fill with our Atiny? Are you sure we brought enough Merch for all of them?”

“Don’t worry about that, Hwa. I am sure our management brought what they could. Remember, we have to split it between two shows. Are you sure you are up for this? You haven't taken the time to lament your grandfather’s passing. I am sure Atiny will understand if you cannot make it through the show,” Yeosang comments with a concerned look.

Smiling softly, Seonghwa replies, “Atiny are my light in my darkest times. Right now, performing for them… I feel like I am performing to keep my own light shining inside. I couldn’t do this without them, and want to perform best for this tour to honor my late grandfather.”

“Hwa, he is so proud of you. I can tell,” Hongjoong says, turning his head to kiss Seonghwa on the cheek.

One of the stagehands tells the three soulmates, “You have one hour to get ready for sound check.” 

“Let's head backstage and get ready to charm our Atiny,” Yeosang remarks as he pushes Seonghwa and Hongjoong towards the back. 

As the three missing soulmates make it behind the stage, Seonghwa feels his chest tighten. Dropping his hug on Hongjoong, Seonghwa makes his way to the side, where he can glimpse the lawn where the queue is set up for the merchandise and the standard entry. His eyes search the crowd for something. 

Maybe someone familiar or someone to stand out. 

Seonghwa was the most sensitive of all his soulmates, which is why he was known to Atiny as Momhwa. He always cared for the children (San, Wooyoung, Johngo, Yeosang, Mingi, and Yunho) while the Captain was off doing captain-like things. He was also the one to beg for alone time but then worried 24/7 that the rest of his soulmates were being taken good care of when they weren’t in his eyesight. 

Recently, the kids have grown up, which has allowed Hongjoong and Seonghwa to focus on other things. During this time, Seonghwa noticed that he felt like something was missing, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Looking over the crowds, it felt like something was nearby, but what could it be?

“Hwa-hyung, are you okay? Did you see someone out there?” asked San after noticing the intense look on Seonghwa’s face as he peeked out the gap in the stands. 

Rubbing his chest, Hwa replied, “Yeah… I think so. It just gotta be nerves. Still get them, ya know?” San nodded with a smile. “Being back in LA means so much to Joong-ah, and I don’t want to mess it up.” 

Shrugging off the tightness, Seonghwa went to his chair to prepare for sound check. He took his seat between Mingi and Yunho, who are always inseparable; their idle chatter overtook Hwas's thoughts as they got closer to showtime.

“Good job on the sound check, boys! BE:FIRST is ready to go on, and the rest of the gates will open in five,” called another stagehand as they rushed by.

“Mingi-ah, how is your back? You seemed like you were limping a little,” asked Yunho.

“It’s my chest that feels like… I don’t know, like a burning but not a painful burn,” Mingi answered, rubbing his chest. 

“You too?” San and Seonghwa asked at the same time. The three of them looked at each other with wide eyes. Grabbing the other two, Seonghwa pulled them closer to the rest of the group.

“Hey guys, listen to this. San, tell us what you feel,” ordered Hwa.

“Umm… well, it is like a strap around my chest, and it’s pulling me out of the stadium,” San told the group, “Why, hyung?”

“Mingi?” prompted Hwa.

“Yeah, that’s pretty accurate,” he agreed. Looking over his shoulder at BE:FIRST taking the stage, he rubbed his chest harder. "Whatever it is, it just kicked up a notch, but now it's pulling…”

“Toward the stage, right?” Seonghwa urgently says. “Like it’s pulling us to the other side of the stadium?”

San and Mingi nod in agreement. Seonghwa, however, watches Hongjoong’s confused reaction to this information. 

“Hey guys! First set of costumes now, please!” urges the wardrobe noona. Reluctantly to end the conversation, the members get dressed and head to their positions to start the first of two LA Shows. 

The feeling of pulling intensifies as they take the stage, pulling around the stadium and then towards the crowd. The three who feel this intensity seemingly find themselves consistently on the same side of the stage. So often, when they return for their first intermission, the Captain pulls them aside.

“What is going on with the three of you?” Hongjoong asks urgently. “San, you have to pull it together. You are up next. Focus on all of our Atiny, not just the one side. Remember, the performance for our Atiny comes first. We wouldn’t be here without them. Please don’t make the others feel left out.”

“Sorry, Captain. I will do better. I better hurry and change,” San pouts as he runs toward Wooyoung, who also looks concerned. 

“You two, figure out what is going on. I know you both are sensitive to energies and such. If it is something bad, we need to warn security. Even though we are in Korea, it doesn’t mean they don’t have crazed fans, too,” warns Hongjoong.

“You got it, Hyung. Hwa-hyung and I will try to figure it out, but the performance won’t suffer,” Mingi says confidently. Seonghwa nods in agreement as they change costumes and proceed with part 2 of the concert. 

“Seonghwa, San, Mingi, and Hongjoong, what in the hell is going on with you?” exclaims their manager. “Green room. NOW. All eight of you.”

Thankfully, this is a longer intermission as the eight follow their manager’s orders. Pilling into the room, they notice their following change of costumes is laid out and ready for them. Without hesitation or shyness, the soulmates start to change as the manager comes in, “Talk.”

“Manager-nim, we are trying our hardest, but there is something about that side of the venue that is pulling the three of us,” Seonghwa says, pulling up his pants. “I think there is either someone important over there, either someone we already know or someone we need to know.”

“Only the three of you feel this way?” asks the manager, looking around at the rest of the group. 

The rest of the group nods or voices their agreement as they change. He continues, “If that is the case, then you three must stick together, and the rest of you will entertain the rest of Atiny. See if you can figure out what section this “important person” is in.”

“Yes, manager-nim. Thank you,” San bows with a huge smile. Even though Seonghwa and Mingi were the more sensitive ones, San was the one who could hone in on the source the best of them all. He could technically leave the stage and run around with the manager's permission. 

San glanced at their Captain and Seonghwa with a questioning smile, to which both nodded, and San took off looking for his personal security guard. None of the security guards liked it when the boys would go around Atiny, but they got paid extra, so no complaints were heard. Once they discussed San's route, during which song(s), it was time to get in place. 

Taking a deep breath, San focuses on the pull and latches on. It was time to figure out who or what was causing them such a feeling.

This member of the Demon line was on a hunt. 

“Damn it!” San yelled, throwing his hat against the make-up vanity. 

Wooyoung ran up behind him, pulling the fuming soulmate into his arms. “Sannie, it’s okay. Maybe they left early? Do you still feel them?”

“Yes. Yes, I do, but because of the send-off, we cannot go out there and find out what is happening,” San whined into Wooyoung’s neck as he hugged the slightly younger soulmate. “I know what section the pull is centered on, but what 50-100 seats are in that section alone?”

“Maybe they will be at the send-off or back tomorrow night?” offered Wooyoung.

“Hey, San-ah, thank you for trying,” Seonghwa says, entering the room with the rest of the group. “We had a sold-out stadium, and I am proud of you for getting the section down. We can talk to the arena or Ticketmaster to see if they can share any information with us.”

“You know that is all private information, Hwa-hyung,” chides Jongho. “They can’t give out that information. It probably isn’t anything big. If it was something or someone important, they would have reached out to KQ or RCA Records by now or will soon. Don’t let it bother you much longer.”

“You three need to make sure to get rest for tomorrow, please,” asks Yunho.

San, Hwa, and Mingi sigh at the idea that they can’t find any more information right now. San swears that he almost had it. Mingi knows that it is more important than the others believe. Seonghwa thinks he has finally found what is missing.

Today couldn’t have started any worse! 

First, you were so excited that you didn’t get a proper night's rest because you couldn’t fall asleep, and then you kept waking up, hoping not to sleep through your alarms. 

Second, your car breaks down and won't be ready til Monday, but luckily, it is the dealership's fault, so they give you a rental car. 

Third, your make-up artist, who you paid extra for, is sick, so you get the newbie who can’t do a dramatic eye to save anyone's life.

When you meet up with friends who had pushed you to listen to the K-pop band known as Ateez, things finally turn around. You hadn’t seen the two of them in a couple of years, but because of your mutual delulu (not really) ((well kind of)) love of the eight-membered band coming to Los Angles for their World Tour, you finally got to spend time together pining over some of the hottest men in the world. 

You spent the better part of the first half of 2024 sharing shorts, reels, Facebook posts, and YouTube videos back and forth. Because of those interactions, you realize you don’t have a bias.

True, you did lean towards Seonghwa and San, but then again, you always liked eyes like theirs or Hwa’s unisexual vibes, and even San's boyfriend code made you smile to yourself when he wandered into your daydreams. 

With that in mind, your friends got you a “Baby Atiny Bias package,” which included a photo facecard of San in a cute fuzzy kitty-looking pouch, a SANdeoki mini doll, and a Lightiny with Ateez logo keychain. You shocked them with your excitement to finally have something representing that you were and will always be an Atiny! 

After changing into concert-attending clothes and correcting the failed makeup job, the three of you decided to make your way to the Pop-Up, hoping to get some merch before the concert. This was your first pop-up, and it was at a place called Hello82! By the time you arrived, hardly anything was left, and your friends said you would have better picks at the arena. 

After grabbing some extremely needed coffee due to damn insomnia and the weird dreams of the eight men fawning over you, then some lunch, it was time to head to BMO stadium.

LA traffic sucked on a typical day; add in a K-pop concert, and the Dodgers playing just made it a bajillion times worse. However, parking was a breeze, which was surprising, to say the least. 

That’s when the good times came to a standstill. 

Literally. 

Over three hours of standing in the sun before you finally made it to the front of the merch line, they were sold out of everything you originally wanted besides the Seonghwa picket. So you settled on a sleeveless shirt and the picket.

You decided that you would have to get the Hwa one because you already had all the San stan stuff (s-cubed, you giggled to yourself), and you didn't save up enough to get all eight.

When the three of you needed clarification on which entryway was right, your friend asked a BMO employee, who guided you to the standard line. 

Well, they lied. 

After an hour of waiting in line to go to the standard entrance, you were informed that you actually had floor tickets that required you to enter the other end of the arena.

By this time, BE:FIRST had just taken to the stage, which pissed you off because you loved the new song they collaborated with Ateez on called Hush Hush, and you wanted to support them too. 

Finally making it into the arena, you are still walking to your seats as Ateez takes the stage in their white princely uniforms, making you want to melt on the spot. You weren't normally a lover of white, but you loved them in white. The demon-line looks like angels before their fall right now.

Luckily, the floor tickets came with someone to take you to your seats, so you could at least follow the worker while your eyes never left the stage as Crazy Form kicked off the show. 

Once in your seats, you never used them aside from the strange little intermission video thingies they did. You were standing, yelling, screaming, attempting to sing in Korean, and jumping up and down. You were amazed at the sold-out arena that they had. I'm so lucky to have a master ticket-grabber friend to get these seats.

Spinning around, you noticed another reason for the group to fall even harder: they had American Sign Language interpreters.

With how hard the base was in most of their songs, you knew they had to have a decent following from the Deaf community, and seeing them honor those Atinys almost made you want to cry. Your mom is hard of hearing, so you know ASL also, and your mom was a closet Atiny, but no one will ever know. 

They sang so many songs, and you knew all of them. EEEKK!!

Maybe you were a little obsessed with them over the last two years. But they were mixed in with others like Stray Kids, Astro, ZeroBaseOne, BigOcean, OmegaX, WaveV, and BTS. You had variety in K-pop and even started listening to J-pop and T-pop as well.

As for Western music, don’t ask about anything that happened or who was hot because you hadn’t a clue. Suddenly, the concertgoers around you start screaming their heads off, breaking you out of your inner discussion.

“Look, look! It’s San!” exclaimed your friend Kat while poking you in the side. Pointing over to the section next to you…

There

He

Was

San was there, like… right there, and he was walking this way while singing. 

OUCH

You grip your chest at the sudden tightness. Damn. You knew you would react if you ever got close to any of the K-pop idols you loved, but this was a bit extreme. You lived in LA County. You see actors all the time. It’s no biggy… so why?

Your eyes never left his form as he walked around the section you were in. He is so attentive to all of the Atiny that gain his attention, you notice. Being older than the 7/8s of the group and conscious of the age-haters out there, you sink back, letting the younger fans have their time.

Besides, you are a baby Atiny, and people like your friends Kat and Cindy have wanted to see them since they debuted. Plus, you also had a healthy understanding that they were just people who decided to share their talent with the world. That was another thing you learned living in LA for so long.

“Where did you go?” Cindy asked. “He was right here. You could have gotten some amazing pictures. I bet if you had shown him your SANdeoki, he would have given you at least a high-five.”

Standing back up, you looked around, “Cindy, I am not gonna take his time away from others that are bigger stans than I am. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah, sure, you just got nervous meeting one of your crushes,” Kat teased you. “If Seonghwa came down, you would have spontaneously combusted.”

“I think after the looks she gave Mingi, SanHwa now has competition for their spot as her bias,” Cindy laughed. 

“Oh, quite you two. You guys know that I have a hard time picking my favorites. I have an easier time picking ones that I would have a harder time meeting, like Jongho, Lee Know, or Seokjin. Those guys scare me with their seriousness.”

As the eight members said their goodbyes, your chest got even tighter, and your eyes started to well up. Why does it feel like you are leaving a part of yourself behind?

My goodness.

You had heard of post-concert depression, but you thought that was a joke. You attended a N*SYNC concert as a little girl and even a Creed Concert in college, but you never cried when the show was over. 

That is when you heard the laughing. Looking up at your friends, they are trying their best not to bust a gut as they watch you lamenting over the end of the nearly three-and-a-half-hour show. Glaring at them playfully, you stood up to leave but noticed a group of fans sticking around in a section near the stage.

“What is that for?” you ask.

“Oh, they must have VIP with send-off included,” offers Kat.

“What is a send-off?”

“It’s when the bands come out and meet fans, sign some stuff, take pictures, blah blah blah as they leave the venue they are in,” she clarifies. “Those were sold out before I could get them. Actually, all the VIP stuff was gone in the blink of an eye.”

“Coachella totally boosted their American Atiny numbers,” commented Cindy.

“I almost went to Coachella. You know Bethany? She works with Coachella and a few other festivals around here. She offered me to join the team for the first weekend because they were short-staffed, but I couldn’t swing it,” you said as you headed up the stairs to exit. “I wish I had said yes because she got to meet them all. She says that San and Wooyoung are a total couple, and the Twin Towers are too.”

“Well, I am glad you didn’t go, or I wouldn’t have been able to have our first Ateez concert as a memory, plus YOUR first K-pop concert EVER!!!” screamed Kat!

“Well, now that all of BMO knows,” giggled Cindy.

Laughing along with them, you rub your chest, still feeling a tightness you swear is pulling you to the stage area.

Ignoring the strange and slightly painful pull in your chest because you are not a delulu American sasaeng, you take a deep breath and focus on your photos.

“Holy Shit! I have over 700 photos and videos!”

“Yeah, and wasn’t she just mumbling about not being a sasaeng?” questions Cindy as you get to the car to go home. 

“Well, I have until the Stray Kids concert next year to go through them all and widdle it down to my favorites. That way, I can take 800 of Felix and Bang Chan,” you snark back. 

Buckling up your seat belt, you can’t help but keep your eyes on the BMO Stadium. Your chest gets tighter and tighter as you get farther away. Your mom has always mentioned following your instincts because they would know better than anything your mind will tell you.

So why are your instincts telling you that you left something important behind?

Next

Permanent Taglist - OPEN

@bethanysnow @braveangel777 @danielle143 @elliegrace1999

Series Taglist - OPEN

@nenefix-on @dimeb29

[cultofdionysusnet]

Check out this Ateez fic written by Topaz!

𝑩𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑩𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅

👑Pairing: Wealthy born! Prince! Seonghwa x Inherited! Princess! Reader (f)

👑Au: Modern interpretation of Sweet Sorrow of Evil, royal au, modern royal au

👑Trope: established relationship (married), reincarnated, soulmate

👑Genre: smut, romance

👑Word Count: 2,294

👑Rating: 18+, MDNI

👑Warnings: dom!seonghwa, sub!reader, oral (m), aftercare

👑Summary: a peak into the life of evil queen! reader and guard! hwa reincarnate. their date night sure isn't private but what they do in private after said date is another story entirely...

👑A/N: this is for my small's birthday @smallfrye (modern! sweet sorrow guard hwa aka prince hwa au) this has been bubbling in our brains for MONTHS and i'm happy to put the first scene i tortured myself with into words so that you can read it. Thank you for being my braincell in this journey of our friendship. I am truly thankful for your presence in my life and i hope this fic shows it 😆

“Prince Seonghwa!”

Camera’s flash and click; all the cacophony that is due with a public appearance of a royal couple nowadays. You let go of Seonghwa’s hand, but not without some resistance from your husband. The tips of his fingers curl, indicating he doesn’t want to let go but knows what you’re doing. He sends you a small smile but then focuses on his public job.

He smiles and tilts his head, putting the hand that had been holding yours in his pants pocket in a pose. It was his job to look good and thus make the royal family look good. And he always did a good job in that regard.

“Prince Seonghwa! How’s date night?” One reporter shouted. 

Seonghwa laughed gently. “I was enjoying time with my wife, of course.”

The crowd of reporters laugh together as Seonghwa pokes at the fact that they in fact interrupted said time with questions and photos. 

Seonghwa informs a fashion magazine what his fit was dutifully. He brushes a strand of his bangs out of his eyes with a pinky finger and blinks and the camera’s click in quick succession. 

“Does the Princess like the long hair?” Another reporter shouts.

Seonghwa tilts his head flirtatiously. “Why do you think I’ve left it this long for so long?”

“What’s on the itinerary after this?”

Seonghwa shakes his head. “Oh, just some boring husband duties, nothing impressive. I’m afraid my social battery is much depleted now.”

Then your husband sends the longest, most goosebumps-inducing look that makes you have to bank your face but you still swallow in futile. Your court-trained husband knows exactly how to affect you in public. And he takes great delight in testing your public mask.

You swoop in to ‘save’ your husband. “That’s all for tonight folks,” You insist demurely. 

The yells continue as you take up Seonghwa’s hand and pull him to the car that’s waiting for you outside of the high-end restaurant. You both settle into the plush leather and take a sigh of relief being out of the eye of the public. 

Seonghwa’s thumb passes over the back of your hand, as if he’s winding the string of a fishing pole and you’re at the end of the string. “Princess,” he says your title softly but you’re not falling for that trick.

“Seonghwa,” You open your mouth to scold him but he places a chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth to halt you. 

“I know. I won’t start anything in the car. But just so you know…” Seonghwa lets the words hang in the air to tempt you.

You stubbornly look out the tinted windows. “Yes, Dear.”

Seonghwa chuckles lightly. “Your tone might get you in trouble later, dear.”

You turn, head in hand, lifting a perfectly penned-in eyebrow. “Should I have not saved you from the crowd of reporters, husband?”

A polite, playful smile pulls the corner of Seonghwa’s lips. “We both know what really happened.”

You quickly glance towards the front of the car to make sure the window that separates driver from client is up and then lean over towards Seonghwa. With your entire back to the driver, you whine. “Seonghwa, you promised!” 

Seonghwa reaches out and runs his hand over your hair. His eyes travel over your face, your body, simply drinking you in. “You look gorgeous tonight, wife of mine.”

You sigh in gratitude, a bit relieved. “Pretty enough to distract you from the not-so-private date, I hope.”

“You know when I’m with you, it’s like the rest of the world melts away,” Seonghwa admits.

You grip Seonghwa’s hand. “I know. It’s part of the reason you married me.”

Seonghwa’s soft look twists into a darker, more lust-filled one. “And the other half?”

This time you can’t help but laugh. “Seonghwa, please.”

“You’ll show me when we get back home?” Seonghwa still prompts hopefully.

“Of course,” You agree. 

That is why you knelt before your husband, whose legs were spread on your thousand thread count sheet on your bed. You subserviently removed his designer shoes and put them to the side. Next came off his socks. You then stood up on your knees, reaching for his belt. 

Seonghwa’s fingers quickly grip your wrist tightly. “Slower, dear. You promised adoration, not a quickie.”

“Yes, Prince,” You intone quietly. 

Seonghwa lets go of your wrist and allows you to proceed. You place both of your hands on Seonghwa’s knees. You squeeze his thighs, that tense in response back. You methodically squeeze up his leg until you can see that he is hard under his baggy slacks. Swallowing loudly, you dip your head to mouth at the imprint of his cock. Seonghwa makes a low noise in the back of his throat and you take that as a sign of approval. 

“Your Highness,” you say conservatively. “May I remove your royal shirt?”

Seonghwa’s pupils are blown but his eyes are lidded. “You may,” he allows.

There aren’t a lot of buttons to undo, for Seonghwa had already popped many for his date night look. His jacket is already dutifully hung up in the walk-in closet, so all you have to do is push it easily off his shoulders. 

Your breath catches in the back of your throat at how tantalizing your husband is at this moment. His palms are flat on the sheet, leaning his weight back to watch you work your magic. You can’t help but linger as your hands caress down his torso, following the lines of his muscles. 

“This body is wasted,” you murmur under your breath.

“Wasted on what?” Seonghwa chuckles.

“You should be sold to the highest bidder and then fucked every hour upon the hour,” your mouth says without a filter.

If you weren’t admiring Seonghwa’s body so much, you might have glimpsed the slight blush that clung to his cheeks. “Dear one,” he drawls. “Your mouth is getting you into trouble again.”

You drop to your knees again. You lick your lips as your hands reach for his belt buckle a second time. “Let me keep it busy then.”

Seonghwa does not stop you as you manage to free his cock from the confines of his pants and boxers. You sigh dreamily at his curved, long cock. As your husband is a dream in of itself, so is his cock. You suck happily on his cockhead, swirling your tongue around it. 

With a loud gasp, Seonghwa’s hand flies to your hair, needing a handhold immediately. His desperate cries only fuel your hunger for his cock, as you then bob up and down his length. You let your throat adjust to the length with each bob, and eventually you can manage to get him completely inside of your mouth and throat. 

The room echoes with the wet, choking noises but it seems as if Seonghwa is feeding off them. “That’s it, dear, gobble me down, you greedy girl.”

Nothing tickles Seonghwa more pink than watching you give him a sloppy blowjob. The sucking noises only add to the way your mouth circles around his length, eyes trained on him. You don't use your hands; you simply let your lip and tongue do the work. There's saliva all over your chin and cheeks and the bed sheets but you know that's the way Seonghwa likes it. Seonghwa likes knowing you'll debase yourself for him.

You reach underneath your skirt, and rub your clit through your thong. You know you're creating a wet spot on expensive silk but the need to indulge yourself burns in your lower stomach. You let out a small whimper as your finger pad brushes against your throbbing nub. 

Seonghwa’s eyes snap open. “Dear,” he croons softly, dangerously. “The only pleasure you should be getting should be from wrapping those pretty lips around my cock.”

You whine around his length but remove your hand from between your legs. He's right. He hates the spotlight but goes on these public dates to satisfy your need to be among your people. And so, you rewarded his time by being the one to admire him. 

In this moment, as the princess, he is the only one who truly matters, and that's all he wants. Because Seonghwa, above all of his needs, loves you.

Like a flip of a switch, you find yourself pressed against the foot of the bed. Your head is held in place against the mattress. Seonghwa is on his feet now, almost towering above you as you’re still on your knees. His tongue snakes out to lick his lips and your lower half tightens at the action. “Be a good Princess and swallow everything I give you.”

You drop your jaw in anticipation for Seonghwa to fuck your mouth. It’s still a sloppy job but it’s in no way rough like you expected. Seonghwa simply works in and out of your mouth of his own accord. Again, it’s very much about feeling like only he can do this to you; only he has the privilege to fuck the princess’s mouth. 

Your fists grab his slacks, one clutching to each thigh, to keep your wandering fingers away from pleasuring yourself. The only noises you can hear are the small, desperate gasps as Seonghwa chases his high and of course, the wet noise of his cock sliding in and out of your lips.

When Seonghwa reaches his climax, he tosses his head back, showing the line of his neck and jaws. You missed his nose scrunch because of this but his loud cry as he shoots down your throat more than makes up for it. You swallow everything, or at least attempt to, but when Seonghwa pulls out of your mouth, a tiny amount squirts on your cheek. 

Seonghwa clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You get so dirty when we do this.” He absentmindedly captures his cum with a swipe of his finger and pushes it into your mouth. 

Dirty is an understatement. You know your makeup is streaked, dry saliva and cum all over you. You’re sure your hair is a mess and so is your underwear. You are definitely in need of some much needed aftercare. But first!

You shoot to your feet, slanting your lips across Seonghwa’s eagerly. “You did wonderfully, my love,” you gasp between kisses. 

Seonghwa laughs under his breath, feeling a tad bit shy after the complete show of dominance. “You sure it wasn’t too much?”

You shake your head with a small, happy smile. “Nope. It was perfect. Help me in the bathroom? I’ll get a washcloth for you too.”

You walk to the bathroom and Seonghwa can’t help but note how, even now, after he just fucked your throat full of his cum, that you still manage to walk as if you are in public and waving to a crowd of your people. You can take the princess out of the grace, but you can’t take the grace out of the princess.

The two of you clean up and then lounge in the bath together. You have your princess crown back on, figuratively of course. You’re checking all the social media posts of your date, official and tabloids, scanning all the comments, good or bad. 

“Wooyoung,” You say your best friend’s name in part astonishment and part scolding. 

You hold your phone up to show Seonghwa. One of the reporters had perfectly captured Seonghwa’s bedroom eyes as he had peered at you earlier. Wooyoung had left a comment on said photo that was bordering on appropriate. 

Ym_ooyng: i’ll be performing my boring best friend duties tomorrow 😉

“Do you have a date with Wooyoung that I’m not aware of,” Seonghwa intones, not being able to hold his tongue when it comes to your best friend of a prince. 

“No,” You muse. “But I bet he’s planning an impromptu drop in to get the tea. You know how he is, husband of mine.”

You run your nails along Seonghwa’s inner thigh propped up beside you and he shudders delicately. You try to remind him through actions that Wooyoung can say whatever he wants, but you’re still in the bathtub with him right now. 

Seonghwa hums in acknowledgement. He dips his hand under the water and lets droplets fall from his fingertips onto your arm. “Dear…?”

“Seonghwa?” You put your phone away and give your husband your undivided attention. 

“You think we could schedule some getaway time?” Seonghwa asks.

You cannot help but turn around in the tub to look at Seonghwa’s face. He won’t meet your gaze so you use a wet hand to push up his downturned chin. “Seonghwa, look at me.”

Seonghwa tentatively looks up, eyes bearing his soul to you, and then looks away. “Just a little bit of time. To get away from the cameras.”

Your heart wrenches. You know that he’s become a public figure simply for you. But you’d throw it all away if he asked it of you. “Of course. I’ll speak to Jongho, get him to figure out what would be a good time--”

“Tomorrow.”

“Before Wooyoung can drop in?”

A small, conspiratorial smile pulls at Seonghwa’s lips. “Maybe.”

“Okay,” You agree. You turn back around and settle into Seonghwa’s chest, tucking his arms around your collarbone.

Seonghwa squeezes his arms so that they’re wrapped around you. “Okay.”

You slowly fall asleep as Seonghwa rocks you gently, humming a mindless tune under his breath. You are in and out of consciousness as he drains the bath and bundles you up in a robe. The last thing you remember is a kiss on your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips before Seonghwa mumbles, “Goodnight my fair princess. Sleep well.”