#study x witchcraft

[savingsallow]

More of Val and Garreth ! How is their Life together after Hogwarts ? 😁

hello there, darling! :D

— thank you for asking 🤭

truth be told, i haven't worked out that part in complete detail yet.

however, i originally thought that after hogwarts, val might work as an auror in the ministry for a while and garreth would have multiple side jobs while starting his apothecary business.

as for marriage and children, i feel like they would eventually have them (c'mon he's a weasley iykyk 🤪) and i think that they'd get married in their late 20s.

at some point, i think that they'd reside somewhere far from the blacks but somewhere near the weasleys.

also, i'm sensing A LOT of travelling for these two: (1) for val's work & (2) garreth discovering new ingredients for his potions. although, when they find the right place for them, they sure will be settling there. when that happens, val would love to have a nice and cozy cafe next to garreth's potions shop.

that's all i have for now! stay tuned for more 🫣

[theiinkwiitch]

Tag Dump!: Carol The Ink Witch!

[motherfuckingmaneater]

Are there any other witches Bellatrix is involved with? Any of the marauders girls?

Marlene McKinnon wasn’t always a blood traitor. Her family were important purebloods. Bellatrix still eyes her with healthy suspicion as she comes to sit beside her however. They’ve been paired together in potions. She’s annoying but pretty and she’s quiet, so what does she care? One day, in the midst of potion-making Marlene leans in front of her to take something and Bellatrix pulls her back just in time — for their potion has just caught aflame (a perfectly normal process in this potion). Marlene stutters a shaken thanks to her. Bellatrix isn’t sure why but she bites back the desire to inform her that she simply didn’t want the silly girl’s hair to fall into the potion and ruin it. A few days later they’re passing one another in the great hall and Marlene stops to ask her if she’d accompany her down to check on it later that evening, for it should be finished brewing. Bellatrix grudgingly agrees and meets her down there. It’s late and the room is dimly lit — only a few candles and the glow of the fire beneath their cauldron. Marlene makes a remark about Bellatrix’s perfume. Bellatrix again bites back an urge to tell her she wouldn’t be able to afford it, instead shrugging and saying it’s peony and pine. Marlene quietly says she likes it. Bellatrix isn’t sure why this silly little witch is buzzing around in her head so often. She ruminates on her in defence class. Marlene is a couple of rows ahead of her and she studies her profile as she turns her face to her friend. She’s pretty and blonde and smells like wild cherries, she has gorgeous big brown eyes and —— what is she doing? Most Gryffindors are blood traitors. Well, almost all. Marlene shoots her furtive glances now and then too, something Bellatrix begins to notice more and more. When they catch each other’s gaze, Marlene is first to look away. Bellatrix is intimidating in her own right. She’s sharp grey eyes, beautiful refined features and she’s deathly quick with a wand. One night Bellatrix busies herself with another witch, a gorgeous Slytherin girl in her year, Roselyn Greengrass. She’s beautiful, long platinum hair, hazel eyes, soft skin. Her mind still strays to Marlene. It’s ridiculous. Yet she’s wondering to herself — would Marlene feel the same? Would her skin flush the same shade of pink? Would she submit to her as easily? Would she bite her lip and say Bellatrix’s name like the only prayer she’s ever known? She rids herself of these absurd thoughts in the prefect’s bathroom pool-size tub late one night. It’s nearing midnight and all she can hear is the running of water and the gentle strum of an enchanted harp. She’s spelled the doors shut and locked but someone’s trying to get in. Bellatrix rolls her eyes and calls out to leave her be, but their magic breaks through the wards. The girl wanting in is reprimanding her immediately, telling her the room is available to all prefects. She halts in the middle of her reprimanding as she finally steps into the bathroom and Bellatrix meets her gaze. Marlene McKinnon. She falls silent almost instantly and Bellatrix scoffs. Bloody typical. She gets up out of the bath tub and wraps herself in her Slytherin robe, wringing out her long black tresses as she goes. Marlene quietly tells her she doesn’t have to leave, that she didn’t realise it was her. Bellatrix asks what difference does it make? Is she really that scared of her? There’s not much space between them, she can’t help but taunt. Marlene presses her lips together and steps closer, words dying on her lips. In the dim light of the moon Bellatrix sees it on her face shadowed by candlelight. Want. She isn’t sure what compels her to do it. She seizes the other witch and kisses her. Marlene tenses at first, but she’s desperate moments later, fingers clutching desperately at Bellatrix’s bathrobe, fingers delving in, wanting more. Bellatrix doesn’t deny her. She gives in to her wants.

This silly little creature has been in her head for weeks now. Why? She doesn’t care right now. All she can think of is how she tastes, how she’s moaning so desperately against her mouth, how she’s fumbling at her own robe of burgundy red. They pool to their feet and Bellatrix pushes her against the wall. Her fingers are tangled into blonde hair and she watches the shade of pink spread across her chest in wild flushed heat. It’s more beautiful than she imagined. She takes her and Marlene moans so beautifully for her. An hour later and they’re laying side by side on the thick towel-type rugs here in the bathroom. It’s messy and filthy of them, but there’s a tub nearby. They get in together and neither says anything. Marlene kisses her again however. She kisses her and kisses her and kisses her. She whispers goodnight against her lips and disappears off to her own common room. A few days pass without her seeing the other, something she’s increasingly thankful for. What does she say to a witch she fucked in the prefect’s bathroom? Bellatrix has never been remiss of charm but she’s unsure of what to do here. She says nothing in potions as they set to work, but she can smell wild-cherry from her and a glance to her face jolts want through her stomach. Marlene is the first to suggest they go back down to potions after dinner to check on it. She wants her again. She wants more.

Bellatrix agrees without argument. It happens again that night. She has Marlene on the potions table, her short skirt lifted up, both of them finding mutual pleasure in the other. Again, they part ways without a word. 

Over the course of the year it happens time and time again. Bellatrix finds reprieve in her. There’s no expectation, no need for anything more from the other, Marlene isn’t clingy like other witches. After a time it becomes more than carnal, it’s genuine like of one another. Marlene is funny, she makes Bellatrix laugh. She’s witty and intelligent and can handle her arrogance. She still moans so prettily for her after, still says Bellatrix in a whisper and with a smile on her face as she’s coming off her high.

When Bellatrix is head girl the following year things stay the same, though this time she has a bed to take her. No more sneaking into empty classrooms or late night visits to the prefect’s bathroom. They still sneak around, it wouldn’t do for the head girl to have a regular Gryffindor visitor in her room so late. What if someone finds out? They like the secrecy of it, the quiet of simple conversation. But their fun can’t last forever. Things are heating up outside of Hogwarts and soon they have to pick a side. Marlene makes the wrong choice. She thinks of Marlene in the midst of war at times, usually after the pair have fought one another on the battle field. Lord Voldemort asks her one day why she’s so lenient in battle with the girl. Bellatrix is truthful, she says she has hope the witch will come around, thinks she can be persuaded. She can’t. When her family are killed, she’s more resolute. It wouldn’t have lasted Bellatrix tells herself.

The day comes, the day Lord Voldemort said it would, and Bellatrix is the one to take her life. She drives a dagger into her and feels the breaths she once felt against her neck, finally still. Marlene McKinnon came alive beneath the hands of Bellatrix Black a few years ago, now she dies in those very same hands. 

[lqveharrington]

So American | D.M.

summary: You and Draco have a lazy day. However, you and Draco take your teas differently.

pairing: draco malfoy x american!reader

includes: MAJOR FLUFF, kissing, teasing, playful bantering

a/n: i was listening to olivia rodrigo.

When you first moved to the United Kingdom to further your studies on witchcraft and wizardry, you didn’t expect to fall head over heels. Especially when that person wasn’t know for their behavior back at Hogwarts; At least that’s what you heard from your co-workers. You didn’t believe that he — the sweetest nurse at St. Mungo’s — could be so cruel to the Harry Potter.

But when you found yourself getting closer to the Brit, you couldn’t help but ask him his reasoning. It wasn’t like you asked with malicious intent, and luckily he didn’t view it as such. He simply stated that he was young and stupid, making you stifle a laugh. From there, your friendship with the blonde deepened and blossomed into a steady relationship.

There were often days where you both worked on such a tight schedule at St Mungo’s, but on some occasions, you were both scheduled to have the same day off. These special days were entitled: Lazy Days. Quite original.

Lazy days were a familiar routine. The both of you would stay in bed as long as you could until you were starving and then lay on the couch reading a book until it was tea time. Something you had gotten accustomed to.

However, tea to you was different to people from England.

“Dray?” You yawn softly as he ran his fingers up and down your back. You finished reading a chapter a while ago and just wanted to be in the present until 4:30, which was when Draco would get up and prepare tea for the both of you.

Draco hummed in response to you calling out for him, gaze lifting from his book to your tired eyes. “My love?”

“I’m cold.” You pull on your blanket tighter and give him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, you can continue reading.”

“You’re cute, you know that?” He set his book down and pulled you into his arms so you were comfortably straddling him. He pulled the blanket around the both of you as you easily tucked your head in his neck.

“You feel warm.” You hum into his neck, hands finding his shirt and slipping underneath. “Super warm.”

He chuckled softly, pulling his head back to take a look at your tired face. His eyes did a full sweep of you. From the stray strands of hair sticking to your forehead to the curves of your face.

“D’you wanna come with me to make tea?”

You shiver when his hands slip under your top and around your waist, a contrast to his other body parts. You move your head back into his neck, nodding softly at the question.

“Of course.”

Draco kissed your cheek and removed the blanket covering the both of you with ease. He secured his hands underneath your thighs and made his way over to the kitchen, setting you on top of one of the counters.

“Counter’s cold.” You grumble as you tuck your hands into your arms in attempts to warm your body from the freezing granite.

“M’sorry.” Draco gave you sorry smile and brought his hands down to your thighs and gentle rubbed to warm you. “Better?”

You smile warmly at him and let him go back to his tasks as the kettle whistles at you. This was always one of your favorite sights. Just the domesticated life you and Draco led outside of witchcraft and wizardry, well, as much as you could.

“Can you add creamer to mine?” You murmur and wince when you hear him drop the tea spoon into the cup itself, causing a loud clunk to ring out. You knew this was going to happen, it happened every time.

He looked up and glanced at you from the corner of his eye before blinking. “No.”

“Dray.” You huff, watching him stir in the sugar for the both of you. “Please.”

“Creamer is for coffee. You can have honey with your tea.” He opened the refrigerator for the honey. “Here.”

In horrible attempts, you tried to grab the creamer from the fridge but get pulled away by Draco himself. Rolling your eyes, you squirm and try escaping but no avail.

“Draco, you can have it with honey or whatever you put in your tea. I want creamer in mine.” You cross your arms, tilting your head up the slightest bit to face him. You watched him look at you with absolutely no emotion, hands still keeping you in place.

You pouted jokingly, making yourself seem cuter than normal. Draco raised a brow at you and shook his head, making you pout even more.

“Please.” You rest your forehead on his chest and feel his arms encase your body. “Just this once.”

After a beat, you hear Draco sigh and you know you’ve won him over, even if it hurts his poor Brit heart.

“You’re so American, my love.” Draco kissed the top of your head and opened the fridge for the creamer, handing it to you. “I’ll get you to convert eventually. You are living here now.”

“I’ll make you move to the states with me.” You cheekily reply, kissing his cheek. “I love you, Dray.”

He rolled his eyes and squeezed your hip as you poured creamer into your tea, watching the transparent liquid change. “I love you too, you American.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[fqntasies]

Just a taste, baby - Feyd Rautha x Reader

summary: You and Feyd-Rautha have been connected through dreams since childhood; a complex inner-working of the Bene Gesserit mothers to join your bloodlines. It binds the two of you in a pull you can't escape (nor do you want to). Feyd is absolutely feral for you.

words: 1,258

disclaimer: characters may be out of character, specifically feyd, considering his desperate softness here. just a forewarning.

You were trapped, breaths coming out of shallow pants as you felt the scratch of the cement structure beneath your palms. He had you against the wall in a hidden alcove; along one of the lengthy corridors of the palace in Giedi Prime. Your mouths were just breaths apart. In fact the Harkonnen before you seemed intent on matching your breaths, mingling them. Tasting your tiny pants as his own. It made your eyes heavy, made you want to tilt your head back and close your eyes, give him access to the expanse of your neck.

"sweetness." He rasped, unable to control himself. The Na-Baron wrapped an arm about your waist, a vice arching you against him as he lowered a wanting mouth to your neck, licking and sucking where the two met. You mewled at the wet heat, felt him growl desperately at the taste.

The two of you hadn't even kissed yet - but the wait; the dreams - you both knew each other to the soul.

---- flashback ----------

The sands of Arakis and Geidi Prime alike carried mysteries of prophesies of the lisan-al-gaib. But midst such tales, the Bene-Geserit mothers also had worked to connect bloodlines through dreams. The Na-Baron and the princess of Arrakis had been bound by such since birth. A well-planned move to align feuds and place power into wanting hands in preparation of war. A web of politcal conspiracy only they controlled. Their plans could not be foiled.

But Feyd couldn't care less about such witchcraft; and neither, if one were honest, could you. The two of you had known of this binding since a young age. And when you had met as children too - the connection had been strong.

"Their line is bright" The reverend mother's voice had burned into your mind, even at 10 years old.

You remembered her cloaked form; a black shadow against the haze of the horizon, a tower above you as she turned from your parents. Her voice had been void of emotion, except for a smugness you didn't understand. But when you turned to glance at the older boy before you (such a uniquely beautiful boy; broad shoulders and smooth skin, black attire across a lithe form), his eyes shone with an intensity that surprised her. Dark, watching, intrigued. He intimidated you. He made you curious.

At 15 years of age, the Na-Baron hadn't spoken in their meeting; but he had felt more than he had imagined. The girl...she had made him feel things. It confused and awakened him to something he had never known. His uncle had never spoken of such a pull. A need.

When the ship had arrived to his homeworld, and the strange foreigners parted like a sea, Feyd-Rautha found himself straightening to his full height; head lowered as he studied them beneath an angled gaze. Garbs of strange colors - hair he had never seen before in elegant styles. He would be Harkonnen predator. He would be a warrior. Strike fear in these alien people, show the Baron he was not swayed so easily by something new.

But then-

Swathed in layers of white, a girl stepped forward; dainty and gracious above all else; practically floating across the landing platform. Yet her eyes betrayed her; darting to capture the landscape, thrown off perhaps by the infrared of Giedi Prime's black sun above them.

She was drinking in the strange newness before her, and then they found him. Feyd felt his chest tighten. Fists clenched. Heat brimmed under the chestplate of his armor.

She looked like some newborn animal, caught in his gaze. But they both felt it. The familiarity. The warm hum between them. It made you want to slip from the safety of your parents and stand beside him, as though his shadow was more protection than the whole parade your own family brought with them. You wondered if he'd felt the same.

Three nights later, you had dreamed of him. A bit older, hand in his as he raised it to his lips. His eyes had never left yours. As a young girl it made you blush. Now...

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

You made a breathy sound as his tongue lathed the mark he had made, moving with a lazy carelessness across your pulse, hungry above all else, uncaring for decorum. He wanted to devour you entirely. He wanted you to see you helpless and delirious against him, just as you were now. As you were in all his dreams.

He knew you'd had them all too. His eyes on you at their wedding. His tongue against yours, moans and tastes and hunger. You watching from the arena as he slaughtered man after man, coated and heaving. He felt like a beast.

"Feyd-" His name barely formed, like a prayer from your lips.

His eyes nearly lolled in his head at the way you sounded, and he dragged his wanting mouth up to meet yours. Wet and wanting. Feyd's free hand shifted to engulf your slender neck, moving your head against his mouth to deepen the kiss, taste all of you. Consume.

The Na-Baron was all muscle and prowess, a looming figure that practically dwarfed you. The spanse of his shoulders alone were sinful, and deep down you loved how it felt to be completely in his grasp. Guiding you in your movements.

Feyd's tongue sought yours as much as he could, controlling and demanding - but you were a needy little thing too, weren't you? In the haze of passion you were pressing into him - leaning just as much towards his heat as he was pushing you both together. You sucked his plush bottom lip into your mouth - unable to help yourself. After all, why was he made so beautiful, if not to kiss? He was quick to follow, biting your own with a growl that made your knees practically give, and following with his greedy tongue.

"You're going to be my wife." the words are a promise, his eyes glittering under the low light; shadows flashign with the coming storm. You part your mouth as though to taste him again, a helpless 'please' slipping past as you arch in his grasp.

Feyd practically took you then and there. Enter the nearest room... make all his dreams a reality. His patience was nearly worn thin. Years of waiting, of hunger. And now it was here. You were in his reach, that tempting little waist; those hips. It made him absolutely insane.

He wets his lips, gaze feverish.

"tomorrow. tomorrow sweetness, hmm? Can wait that long?" He intends to tease you, but he knows he speaks to himself, his jaw locking as he adjusts his arms to press you against him.

You're so fucking soft. It makes him groan. Of all the things he's known in his life, softness was not one of them, save for the flashes of you in his dreams. He craved you like a creature starved. Thoughts of you made him fight better. Made him kill easier.

There's a rumble suddenly of a drone; Harkonnen orders breaking the silence in distorted code. The words don't make sense to your ears. Not yet anyway. You hope to make progress in the language, but it was a challenge; more than others. The variety of tones were a feat for any foreigner to take on; but this was to be your home. A lady of harkonnen would learn her husband's native tongue.

You know he has to leave.

[seospicybin]

I PUT A SPELL ON YOU TOO.

Hyunjin x reader. (s,a)

Related chapter: I Put A Spell On You.

Synopsis: Having a common enemy, you and Hyunjin work together to secure your futures. With your witchcraft, the plan sets in motion, the boundaries between right and wrong blur, and secrets begin to unravel, leaving you and Hyunjin bound by more than just circumstance. (22,4k words)

Author's note: It's Friday the 13th, join the circle and enjoy this piece of magic ♡

I PUT A SPELL ON YOU PLAYLIST 🎧

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Neither the story, the characters nor the spells are real (but if it works, do tell me though!)

The first light of dawn filters through the blinds, painting faint golden streaks across the walls. The air is thick with the scent of burning sage, the smoke curling lazily upward before dissipating into the stillness of the room. 

You stand barefoot before the altar, its surface a collection of well-worn spellbooks, crystals, and a single flickering candle. The morning ritual is second nature to you now—a daily reminder of the power simmering beneath your skin, waiting to be unleashed. 

With steady hands, you trace the sigil carved into the small bowl before you. The words come easily, slipping past your lips like a promise: 

“With fire in my veins and steel in my spine. Today the world bends, and all power is mine.” 

The candle flame responds, leaping higher for a moment before settling back into its steady glow. The familiar hum of energy vibrates through your body, faint but undeniable. It’s not enough yet—your magic is still rebuilding, still growing—but it’s there. A spark, waiting to ignite. 

You inhale deeply, the air filling your lungs with a mix of hope and resolve. Every day brings you closer to reclaiming the strength you once had, closer to the moment when the world will finally recognize your worth. 

Reaching for the almanac resting at the edge of your altar, you flip to the marked date. The book feels heavy in your hands, the weight of countless predictions and warnings etched into its pages. Your eyes skim the delicate handwriting, pausing on the entry for today: 

"The winds shift in the favor of the wary, but beware those who wield false crowns. Their power is fleeting, but their reach is long." 

A chill runs through you, the words sinking in like a stone in still water. False crowns. Your mind flickers to the new CEO, the unsettling man who now occupies the highest seat in the company. You’ve felt his shadow looming since the day he arrived, his presence like a storm cloud waiting to break. 

You close the almanac with a soft thud, the foreboding message settling heavily in your chest. The city stirs outside your window, but in this quiet moment, it feels as though time stands still. 

You glance at your reflection in the nearby mirror, studying the determination etched into your features. You’ve come so far, yet there’s still so much to do. 

Today is just another step forward, another piece of the puzzle. Whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them head-on. The world doesn’t know it yet, but its days of underestimating you are numbered. 

“Today the world bends, and all power is mine.” 

-

The elevator doors slide open with a soft chime, and there he is—Hyunjin. Perfectly dressed as always, his hair immaculate, his expression cool and distant. He steps in without a glance in your direction, his presence commanding the small space like a storm that doesn’t need to rage to be felt. You step back to give him room, not that he notices. He presses the button for his floor, and the doors close, sealing you in together. 

The silence is suffocating, a weight pressing down on your chest. You’ve grown used to this—his deliberate ignorance, the way he carries himself as though you don’t exist. It’s not new, but it doesn’t hurt any less. 

The memory of his smile, the warmth of his laughter, and the fleeting moments when he looked at you like you were the only person in the world flash through your mind. It’s almost cruel, how vivid those memories are, knowing they mean nothing to him now. To Hyunjin, it’s as if none of it ever happened—as if the love spell never existed, as if you never existed. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, willing yourself not to let it show. After all, no one knows the truth but you. The weight of it is yours alone to carry. Every stolen glance, every pang of longing, every ounce of guilt—it’s all yours. You shift your gaze to the floor, pretending to study the polished tiles. You can’t let yourself get lost in the what-ifs again. 

When the elevator chimes for his floor, he steps out without so much as a glance in your direction. No words. Not even a polite nod.  You let out a soft sigh once the doors close again, leaning back against the wall. Despite everything—despite his indifference, his coldness, the way he behaves as if you’re a stranger—you can’t bring yourself to feel anything but pride when you think about him. 

Hyunjin’s name has been buzzing in the office lately. The whispers of his upcoming promotion are impossible to miss, and the thought of him moving up fills you with quiet satisfaction. He deserves it. Every bit of it. He’s one of the hardest-working people you’ve ever met, and no amount of his harshness toward you can erase that.

For all that’s happened—or hasn’t happened, in his mind—you wish him nothing but the best. It’s a bittersweet truth, but one you’ve come to accept. The elevator finally stops at your floor, and you straighten your shoulders, ready to face the day.

-

The elevator doors slide open, and Hyunjin steps out, his polished shoes clicking softly against the marble floor. As he moves through the hallway, his mind lingers on the ride he just shared with you. 

He hadn’t meant to notice, but he did. That look again—sad and distant, like you were carrying the weight of something invisible. Like you were carrying him. 

It’s not the first time he’s caught it, either. The way your eyes linger on him, quiet and heavy with something he can’t name. It unsettles him, that expression. Almost as if he’s hurt you somehow. 

He frowns, shaking the thought away as he reaches his office. You’re just a coworker, someone he passes in the halls. Whatever story you’ve written for yourself, whatever sadness you carry—it has nothing to do with him. It *can’t.* Hyunjin sets his bag down on his desk and exhales slowly, trying to refocus. There’s too much on his plate today to be distracted by fleeting glances and unanswered questions. He sits, pulling his laptop open, and begins sorting through the mountain of emails waiting for him. 

Barely an hour has passed when his desk phone rings. 

“Hyunjin, can you come to my office for a moment?” Mr. Campbell’s voice is clipped, leaving no room for interpretation. 

“Of course, sir,” Hyunjin replies, already standing. He smooths his jacket, preparing himself for what he assumes is good news. After all, the whispers of his impending promotion have been growing louder by the day. 

The walk to Mr. Campbell’s office feels longer than usual, but Hyunjin steadies his nerves. This is it, he thinks. Finally, recognition for all his hard work. 

But when he steps into the office, Mr. Campbell’s expression isn’t celebratory. If anything, it’s tight with discomfort. 

“Have a seat,” Mr. Campbell says, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. Hyunjin hesitates but complies. 

“I’ll get straight to the point,” Mr. Campbell begins, folding his hands together. “You’ve been an exceptional employee, Hyunjin. Your performance has been nothing short of stellar, and I’ve personally been advocating for your promotion.” 

Hyunjin’s heart begins to race, anticipation bubbling in his chest. 

“However,” Mr. Campbell continues, his tone taking a sharp turn, “with the new CEO stepping into the role, there have been… adjustments. Your promotion has been postponed.” 

The words hit like a punch to the gut. “Postponed?” Hyunjin echoes, his voice tight with disbelief. 

“Yes. The position you were being considered for has been filled by someone else, chosen directly by the CEO, Mr. Hargrave himself.” 

Hyunjin blinks, struggling to process the words. The work, the late nights, the endless hours of proving himself—it was all for nothing? 

“With all due respect, sir,” Hyunjin says, his voice rising slightly, “this is unfair. I’ve worked hard for that promotion. I’ve earned it.” 

“I don’t disagree,” Mr. Campbell says, his tone apologetic but firm. “But this decision is out of my hands. The CEO has made his choice.” 

Hyunjin clenches his fists, anger simmering beneath the surface. “So, that’s it? Years of dedication mean nothing?” 

“I understand your frustration,” Mr. Campbell replies. “But I need you to remain professional about this. There will be other opportunities.” 

Hyunjin stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He doesn’t trust himself to say anything more without letting his anger slip entirely. 

“Thank you for your time,” he says curtly, turning on his heel and leaving the office. 

As he stalks back to his desk, the weight of the conversation settles heavily on his shoulders. The unfairness of it burns in his chest. How could this happen? How could they just take everything he’s worked for and hand it to someone else? 

His jaw tightens as he sits back down, trying to focus, but the injustice keeps replaying in his mind. He’s not just upset—he’s furious. 

And for the first time in a long time, Hyunjin feels something dangerous brewing beneath the surface. 

-

The boardroom feels unusually tense this morning. The usual low buzz of pre-meeting chatter is muted, replaced by an air of nervous anticipation. It’s your first meeting with Flint Hargrave, the new CEO, and even without the rumors, you’d know he’s not a man to be trifled with. 

You take a seat at the long, polished table, your folder of documents in front of you. Flint hasn’t arrived yet, but you’ve already heard the whispers—he’s harsh, demanding, and utterly unyielding. A few employees exchange worried glances as they shuffle their papers, the tension palpable. 

When the doors open, all conversation ceases. Flint strides into the room, his presence immediately commanding attention. He’s tall and sharply dressed, his suit immaculate. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes—cold, piercing, and calculating—scan the room like he’s sizing up prey. 

You don’t falter under his gaze. If he’s looking for weakness, he won’t find it here. 

As the meeting begins, you wait for your turn, forcing yourself to focus. When it finally comes, you stand, walking to the head of the room where the projector is already set up. Taking a deep breath, you begin your presentation. 

Your voice is steady as you explain your proposal, detailing the steps, objectives, and the benefits it would bring to both the company and its employees. You make eye contact with the board members and occasionally glance at Flint, gauging his reaction. 

Unlike some higher-ups, Flint doesn’t interrupt or appear distracted. He leans slightly forward, his hands folded on the table, giving you his full attention. His gaze is steady and sharp, making you feel like you’re under a microscope. 

By the time you finish, you feel a flicker of hope. Maybe Flint isn’t the tyrant everyone claims he is. 

The room is silent for a moment before Flint speaks for the first time. 

“Thank you,” he begins, his tone professional but firm. “Your presentation was clear, and the proposal has merit.” 

You feel a small sense of relief. 

“However,” Flint continues, his gaze locking onto yours, “I have a few adjustments I’d like to make before I approve this.” 

He leans back slightly, his tone calm but carrying an edge of authority as he outlines his demands. The adjustments he proposes are subtle but significant, reshaping the very purpose of your proposal. They would disserve the employees, prioritizing cost-cutting and efficiency over fairness and well-being. 

You clench your hands beneath the table, keeping your expression neutral. As he speaks, you realize this isn’t just a misunderstanding—Flint knows exactly what he’s doing. 

When he finishes, you respond as diplomatically as possible. “Thank you for your input, Mr. Hargrave. However, I believe these adjustments might undermine the goals of the proposal, particularly in terms of employee satisfaction and long-term productivity.” 

Flint doesn’t flinch and daringly holds your gaze. “I appreciate your perspective, but my priority is ensuring that the company operates at maximum efficiency. Your proposal is promising, but it needs to align with those objectives.” 

“But,” you persist, your tone steady, “if we implement those changes, it could lead to dissatisfaction among the employees, which in turn could impact overall morale and performance. This proposal was designed to balance both efficiency and employee well-being.” 

Flint leans forward, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “This isn’t a negotiation. If you want my approval, you’ll make the adjustments.” 

The room falls silent. Every pair of eyes is on you, waiting to see how you’ll respond. You swallow your frustration, your mind racing. Flint isn’t just demanding changes—he’s testing you, pushing to see how far you’ll bend. 

“Understood,” you say finally, your voice even. You won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you rattle. 

Flint nods, his expression unreadable. “Good. I expect the revised proposal on my desk by the end of the week.” 

As the meeting adjourns, you gather your materials, your stomach sinking. Flint has made it clear that he’s not a man who compromises—and now you’re left to figure out how to deal with him. 

-

The meeting room empties slowly, the air still charged with the weight of Flint’s words. You gather your things methodically, trying to shake the tension from your shoulders.

As you step out, the sight of Hyunjin catches your attention. He’s on your floor. For a moment, your heart stirs with hope, and you almost smile.

Has he finally been promoted? The thought alone is enough to bring a flicker of happiness amidst the dread of Flint’s demands. 

But that moment of hope is short-lived. 

Hyunjin’s stride is brisk, his jaw tight, his whole body radiating anger. He brushes past you without so much as a glance, his eyes locked on one target: Flint. 

You pause, watching as he storms toward the man who’s still lingering near the doorway of the meeting room, flanked by his assistant. 

“You!” Hyunjin’s voice echoes across the floor, sharp and furious. Heads turn as his words cut through the low hum of office chatter. “How dare you sabotage my promotion!” 

Flint doesn’t flinch, his expression as calm as ever. If anything, his interest seems mildly piqued, as though Hyunjin’s outburst is merely an inconvenience he anticipated. 

Hyunjin doesn’t stop, one index finger pointed at Flint’s chest. “I’ve worked my ass off for this position! I’ve earned it!” His voice rises with every word. “You think you can just walk in here and decide I’m not good enough? You don’t even know me!” 

The assistant takes a nervous step back, but Flint doesn’t move. His hands rest loosely at his sides, his gaze locked on Hyunjin with unsettling composure. 

“Mr. Hwang,” Flint finally says, his voice smooth and unbothered. “I understand you’re upset—” 

“Upset?” Hyunjin snaps, cutting him off. “Upset doesn’t even begin to cover it. You’re not fit to be CEO if this is how you run things! Favoring people who haven’t put in half the work I have? What kind of leadership is that?” 

You stand frozen, your files clutched tightly in your hands. You’ve seen Hyunjin upset before, but this is different. His rage is fiery, unrestrained, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s about to lunge at Flint. 

But Flint remains unshaken. His calm is unnerving, as if he’s watching a predictable scene unfold rather than being the target of Hyunjin’s anger. 

Security steps in before things escalate further. Two guards approach swiftly, placing themselves between Hyunjin and Flint. 

“That’s enough, Mr. Hwang,” one of them says firmly, motioning for Hyunjin to step back. 

Hyunjin clenches his fists, his jaw tight. For a moment, it looks like he might resist, but after a tense pause, he takes a step back, his breathing heavy and labored. 

“This isn’t over,” Hyunjin mutters, his glare piercing. 

The guards escort him away, leaving a stunned silence in their wake. You glance back at Flint, hoping to gauge his reaction, but his expression remains unreadable. 

As the hallway clears, Flint turns to his assistant, his voice low but deliberate. “Have Hwang’s file on my desk. Immediately.” 

The assistant nods and rushes off without a word. 

Your stomach sinks. You’ve already seen how Flint operates—calculated and unyielding. And now, with Hyunjin’s outburst, it’s clear he’s caught Flint’s attention in the worst way. 

A chill runs down your spine as you walk back to your desk, your thoughts racing. Flint doesn’t let things go. He doesn’t forgive. And after what you’ve just witnessed, you can’t shake the feeling that he’s already planning something sinister for Hyunjin. 

You sit down, your hands trembling slightly as you replay the scene in your mind. Hyunjin’s fiery passion versus Flint’s icy composure—it’s a clash that could destroy everything. 

And for the first time, you wonder if Hyunjin’s rage will be his downfall. 

-

The night is heavy with silence, broken only by the soft rustling of pages as you flip through your book of spells. The faint light from a single candle flickers, casting long shadows across your workspace. The book lies open before you, its yellowed pages filled with faded script and intricate diagrams. 

Your eyes scan the instructions, pausing on a ritual for protection. It’s a spell you’ve never attempted before, but tonight, it feels necessary. Flint’s chilling composure and whispered orders earlier still linger in your mind, and the memory of Hyunjin’s fiery rage has etched itself into your heart. 

You gather the ingredients, laying them out meticulously: A sprig of rosemary for clarity and purification. A small piece of obsidian for shielding against negativity. A dried bay leaf for protection. A strand of your own hair, tying your energy to the spell. 

You pull out a small black pouch and place it beside the items. The air feels charged as you light a bundle of sage, letting the smoke cleanse the space. You place the rosemary and obsidian into the pouch first, followed by the bay leaf. With each addition, you focus on Hyunjin—his face, his energy, his fiery determination. Finally, you add the strand of your hair, knotting the ends to hold your intent firmly in place. 

With the pouch in your hands, you draw a protective circle around yourself with chalk, marking the edges with small crystals. Sitting cross-legged at its center, you hold the pouch close to your heart, the candlelight reflecting in your eyes. 

Taking a deep breath, you chant: “By leaf and stone, by flame and thread. Shield him well from paths of dread. Let no harm pierce, let no ill stay. Protect him now, by night and day.”

You repeat the words three times, your voice steady, each syllable carrying your intent into the universe. As you chant, you feel a warmth build in your chest, spreading through your hands and into the pouch. The air grows still, as if the world is holding its breath. 

When the final word leaves your lips, the candle flickers wildly before extinguishing itself, leaving you in darkness. A shiver runs down your spine, but you know the ritual is complete. 

Carefully, you tie the pouch shut with a red thread, knotting it three times for strength. You hold it in your hands, the weight of it light yet significant. 

“This will protect you,” you whisper, imagining Hyunjin’s face. “This will keep you safe.” 

For a moment, you allow yourself to hope. Even if Hyunjin never knows what you’ve done for him, even if he never remembers what you once shared, at least you can still protect him. 

-

The office is unusually quiet during lunch breaks, and you know this is your best chance. Taking a deep breath, you reach into your bag and pull out the small talisman you crafted for Hyunjin. 

The pouch feels warm in your hand, almost pulsing with the protective magic you infused into it. You look around to make sure no one is watching and quickly make your way to Hyunjin’s desk. His briefcase is propped open, papers and files neatly organized inside. With steady hands, you slip the talisman into one of the inner compartments, tucking it safely beneath a folder. 

A sense of relief washes over you as you straighten up. It’s done. Hyunjin might not know it, but he has a layer of protection now. Even if you’re unsure of how strong your magic is, you’ve done everything you can to help him. 

You return to your desk, a small flicker of hope settling in your chest. Despite everything, you’ve done something good for him. 

Later that day, as the clock approaches the hour for your meeting with Flint, an uneasy feeling creeps into your stomach. The hallway to his office feels colder than usual, the air heavy with an unspoken tension. Clutching your notebook to your chest, you silently chant your usual spell under your breath as you walk: 

“With fire in my veins and steel in my spine. Today the world bends, and all power is mine.”

The words give you a fragile sense of courage, but it falters when you reach the heavy oak door. Taking a deep breath, you knock. 

“Come in,” Flint’s voice calls, low and authoritative. 

You step inside, shutting the door softly behind you. Flint is seated at his desk, an imposing figure with a sharp suit and an even sharper gaze. The room smells faintly of leather and coffee, and the blinds are half-drawn, casting slanted shadows across the desk. 

As you stand there, your eyes flicker briefly to the stack of files on his desk. Among them, unmistakably, is Hyunjin’s file. Your stomach tightens, but you quickly shift your focus back to Flint as he speaks. 

“Well?” Flint says, his tone cool but demanding. “Have you made the adjustments I requested?” 

You hesitate, choosing your words carefully. “I’ve reviewed your demands, sir, and I wanted to suggest a few alternative approaches that could meet the company’s goals without—”  Flint raises a hand, silencing you. His gaze is sharp, almost predatory. “Let me stop you right there. I wasn’t asking for alternatives. I was asking if you’ve done what I told you to do.” 

Swallowing hard, you summon your courage. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t believe those adjustments align with the purpose of my proposal. They would negatively impact employee morale, and—” 

Flint leans back in his chair, a slow, cruel smirk spreading across his face. “You’re quite bold, aren’t you? I admire your spirit, though I’m starting to wonder if it’s misplaced.” 

The air in the room grows heavier as he continues, his voice cutting like a blade. “You know, for someone in your position, you’d think you’d know better than to argue with your superior. Maybe this is why women like you struggle to make it past middle management.” 

His words hit you like a slap, but you keep your expression steady. “I don’t see why that has something to do with my ability to do my job, Mr. Hargrave?” you ask, your voice firm but controlled. 

Flint’s smirk doesn’t waver. Instead, he leans forward, his elbows resting on the desk, his fingers steepled. “Oh, I’m sure you think that. But let me remind you, this isn’t about fairness or ideals. This is about doing what you’re told.” 

You feel your pulse quicken, your grip on your notebook tightening as he continues. 

“If you want to keep rebelling against me,” he says, his tone almost taunting, “go right ahead. But I’d be very careful if I were you. You might not like what happens next.” 

For a moment, you’re frozen, staring at him as the weight of his words settles over you. Flint is dangerous—more dangerous than you realized. His calm demeanor only makes him more threatening, and you’re reminded once again that this is not a man to cross. 

Summoning what little composure you have left, you nod. “Understood, sir,” you say, your voice quieter now. 

Flint leans back in his chair, satisfied, and waves a hand dismissively. “Good. Now, get back to work.” 

You turn on your heel and leave the office, your heart pounding as you step into the hallway. The door clicks shut behind you, and only then do you allow yourself to take a shaky breath. 

Walking back to your desk, you can’t shake the image of Hyunjin’s file sitting on Flint’s desk. Whatever Flint is planning, it won’t just affect you—it’ll affect him too. And no matter how dangerous Flint is, you know you have to do something. 

-

A few days have passed, and you begin to feel a slight sense of relief. The talisman is working, or at least you hope it is. Despite seeing Hyunjin's file on Flint’s desk that day, nothing significant has happened. Hyunjin still walks through the halls, just as indifferent as ever. And you... well, you’re still the same.

Watching him from afar, your heart quietly aching for the bond you both shared, but knowing it’s gone, just like the magic you once cast on him.

As usual, you take the elevator down to the parking basement, stealing glances at Hyunjin from the corner of your eye. The elevator is crowded, and it’s hard to even think of doing anything but keeping your distance.

The silence between you two is deafening, as if the space around you had a barrier, both emotional and physical. You want to say something, anything, but the words are lost before they can even form.

The elevator dings, signaling your stop. The doors open, and you step out, your eyes lowering to the ground as you make your way toward your car. You tell yourself to let go of the past, but the weight of it lingers, thick in the air.

You unlock the door to your car, your hand trembling slightly as you grip the handle.

"Wait."

You spin around at the sound of Hyunjin’s voice, your heart pounding in your chest. Before you can react, he grabs your elbow and flips you around, his grip firm but not painful. The world seems to slow as you look up into his eyes—eyes that are no longer filled with warmth but something else. Something searching.

“What is this?” Hyunjin demands, holding up the small talisman you slipped into his briefcase, his expression tense, almost accusing. His eyes narrow as he waits for your answer.

Your heart drops into your stomach. You hadn't expected this. He found it. The talisman.

"It's... it’s uh..." you say, trying to steady your voice, but it comes out quieter than you intended. "A talisman."

His grip tightens around your wrist, his expression hardening. “A talisman?” His tone is sharp with disbelief. "What did you do to me? Did you curse me?"

The accusation stings, but you quickly shake your head. "No, no curse. It’s meant to protect you."

He doesn't let go of your wrist. "Protect me?" His eyes search yours, but there's a flicker of something else—suspicion. "Why would you protect me?"

The question hangs in the air, and you feel the truth swelling in your chest, but you can’t speak it. The reason you want to protect him... because you care. You care too much. But you can’t admit that to him. Not now. Not when everything between you has been reduced to this awkward distance.

You swallow hard and blur the truth. "I saw your file on Flint’s desk. I know he plans on doing something to you. I don’t want you to get hurt," you say quickly.

"And I hate Flint too. I do. I know this one spell so I think we could work together to take him down. I just need your—”

You can feel his grip falter slightly, but then his gaze flickers to something else entirely. Something that causes the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end.

"Wait... are you saying you actually practice witchcraft?" he asks, his voice shaking with a mix of incredulity and fear.

The world spins. You don’t even know how to respond. You could lie, but his eyes are burning into yours, and for some reason, lying doesn’t feel like an option. Not now.

"Yes," you say softly, unable to stop yourself.

He stares at you in silence for a long moment, and you feel as if the air has been sucked out of the world around you. You can see the wheels turning in his mind, the shock, the disbelief, the fear all rising to the surface. It’s too much. Too much for him to process.

And then, before you can say anything else, you hear it—the words you never wanted to hear.

“Stay away from me.”

The coldness in his voice cuts through you like a blade. It’s like an icy wall has been erected between you, one you can’t get past. The small spark of hope you’d held onto—the hope that Hyunjin might remember, might somehow feel something for you again—dies in that instant.

You take a step back, unable to move for a moment, before you finally blink and lower your gaze. His words echo in your mind, a cruel reminder of how much you’ve lost.

“Hyunjin, I—”

He interrupts, his tone harsh now. “I don’t want anything to do with you. Don’t ever come near me again. Don’t use your... your magic on me.”

His words sting, like acid on an open wound. And all you can do is nod, silent tears stinging at the corners of your eyes.

He turns and walks away, leaving you standing there. The good you tried to do has backfired completely. The last shred of hope you had is shattered.

And now, it’s clear: Hyunjin will never see you the way you want him to.

-

Hyunjin’s jaw tightens when he spots you heading toward the elevator at the same time as him. His gaze sharpens, and he throws you a glare as if to remind you of the boundary he firmly set. You stop in your tracks, hesitating as if his silent warning alone is enough to keep you at bay.

The elevator doors slide open, and Hyunjin steps inside without sparing you another glance. But just before the doors close, he catches that look on your face again—the same sad, almost resigned expression that’s been haunting him lately. It lingers in his mind for a moment before he forces it away with a shake of his head.

Arriving at the office floor, Hyunjin immediately senses something is off. Several of his colleagues are gathered around his desk, rifling through his drawers and gathering his belongings. Anger bubbles to the surface as he storms over.

“What the hell are you doing with my stuff?” Hyunjin demands, his voice cutting through the commotion.

One of his coworkers flinches, looking away uncomfortably, while another mutters, “Sorry, Hyunjin, we were told—”

“Told by who?” he snaps, but before he can press further, someone places a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Hyunjin,” comes the calm yet weary voice of Mr. Campbell, his superior. “I need you to come with me to my office.”

Hyunjin hesitates, his eyes darting to the boxed-up items on his desk. “What’s going on?”

Mr. Campbell only sighs and gestures for him to follow. Reluctantly, Hyunjin obeys, but unease twists in his stomach as he steps into the office.

Once seated, Mr. Campbell doesn’t waste time. “Hyunjin, the company has received an anonymous tip that you’ve been sharing confidential intel with a competitor.”

The words hit Hyunjin like a punch to the gut. His brow furrows in disbelief. “What? That’s ridiculous! I would never—”

“I know, and frankly, I don’t believe it either,” Mr. Campbell interjects. “But these are serious allegations, and the audit team is already investigating. Until they conclude their review, you’re suspended.”

Hyunjin shoots to his feet, his frustration boiling over. “This is Flint, isn’t it? He’s trying to get rid of me!”

Mr. Campbell raises a hand to calm him. “Hyunjin, I understand your anger, but making accusations without evidence will only make things worse for you. If you want to keep your job, I suggest you go home and let the audit team do their work.”

Hyunjin clenches his fists, his mind racing. Every fiber of his being screams at him to march straight into Flint’s office and confront him, but Mr. Campbell’s warning rings in his ears. After a tense moment, he exhales sharply and storms out of the office.

This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

-

Instead of heading home as Mr. Campbell suggested, Hyunjin finds himself at a bar, nursing a glass of whiskey in the middle of the day. The amber liquid burns his throat, but it’s a welcome distraction from the storm brewing in his mind. He feels angry, frustrated, and—though he hates to admit it—utterly defeated. Flint had outmaneuvered him, and now he was sidelined, his career hanging by a thread.

He shoves a hand into his coat pocket, his fingers brushing against something unfamiliar. Frowning, he pulls it out and stares at the small pouch you had slipped into his briefcase. The talisman.

For a moment, he debates tossing it right then and there, but something stops him. He knows he should’ve burned it the second he discovered it, should’ve gotten rid of it if he truly believed it might bring him bad luck. Yet, as he observes it now, he feels a flicker of curiosity rather than fear.

Your words echo in his mind. “I hate Flint too. We could work together to take him down.”

Hyunjin takes another sip of his drink, the idea slowly settling in. Teaming up with you doesn’t seem entirely ridiculous anymore. After all, the enemy of his enemy should be his ally. But before he makes any decisions, he wants to confirm something first.

By the time he steps out of the bar, the sun has already begun its descent. With his phone in hand, he searches for the address of a shop he’d found online earlier—a place that specializes in witchcraft. It’s not long before he arrives at an unassuming storefront with a sign that reads “Moonlit Mystics.”

The moment Hyunjin pushes open the door, he’s hit by the pungent scent of sage. The interior is dimly lit, cluttered with shelves full of crystals, candles, herbs, and other esoteric items. It’s exactly what he expected, almost to the point of being a cliché.

“Welcome,” a woman’s voice greets him from behind the counter.

Hyunjin turns to see a middle-aged woman with a serene expression, her dark hair streaked with silver. She’s dressed in flowing fabrics, her bracelets jangling as she leans forward.

“Can I help you?” she asks, her voice warm yet curious as she studies him.

Hyunjin hesitates for a second before stepping closer and placing the talisman on the counter. “I found this in my bag and I need your help to know what is this.”

The woman picks it up delicately, her eyes narrowing as she examines it. She unties the pouch and carefully empties the contents—a sprig of rosemary, a small piece of obsidian, and other small tokens—onto the counter.

“This,” she says, her tone thoughtful, “is a protection talisman.”

Hyunjin stiffens. “Protection?”

She nods, pointing at each item as she explains. “The rosemary wards off negative energy, the obsidian absorbs harmful intentions, and the other elements… they’re all chosen to shield the bearer from harm. Whoever made this put a lot of care into it.”

Hyunjin stares at the talisman, a strange mixture of relief and unease washing over him. Your explanation was true. There was no curse, no sinister intent—just protection.

“That’s all?” he asks, needing the reassurance one more time.

The woman smiles and slides the opened talisman back to him. “That’s all. You’ve got nothing to fear from this.”

Hyunjin thanks her quietly and leaves the shop, slipping the talisman back into his pocket. As he steps into the cool evening air, a thought settles in his mind.

Maybe you weren’t as dangerous as he’d first assumed.

-

Your fingers skim over the faded pages of the spellbook, the faint scent of aged parchment and herbs filling the air around you. The ritual you’ve been studying for days is intricate, layered with steps that demand precision and, more dauntingly, someone else’s involvement.

You’ve read and reread every line, trying to find a way to execute it alone. Hyunjin is no longer an option, and though the thought leaves a bitter pang in your chest, you know you can’t afford distractions. Flint has to be dealt with, and you can’t let emotions—especially feelings for someone who now despises you—get in the way.

A sharp knock at the door snaps you out of your thoughts. You jolt upright, your heartbeat quickening. You aren’t expecting anyone, and for a moment, paranoia creeps in. Has Flint somehow discovered your plans? Bracing yourself, you approach the door and crack it open, only to freeze in place.

Hyunjin. It’s impossible not to think of the last time he showed up unannounced. Back then, his smile was warm, lighting up the space between you like a ray of sunshine. Now, that warmth is gone, replaced with a neutral expression that borders on cold. Still, it’s him. And despite everything, seeing him standing there stirs a flicker of hope deep inside you.

“Can I come in?” he asks, his tone low and guarded.

Wordlessly, you step aside, letting him in. Hyunjin walks past you, his gaze sweeping over your small apartment. His eyes linger on the shelves lined with books, jars of herbs, and candles. You can almost see the gears turning in his head as he takes it all in, piecing together your world.

Finally, he turns to face you. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

You cross your arms, unsure of where this is going. “What about it?”

“That we could work together to take Flint down.”

Your eyes widen. Of all the things you expected, this wasn’t it. “You’re serious?”

He nods. “We have a common enemy, don’t we? And after everything that’s happened…” He trails off, his jaw tightening. “Let’s just say I’m willing to reconsider.”

You study him carefully, trying to gauge his sincerity. “Why the change of heart?”

Hyunjin shrugs, his tone nonchalant. “Because I hate him. And I think you do too.”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips. “That’s putting it lightly.”

He takes a step closer, his piercing gaze locking onto yours. “So? What’s the plan?”

For a moment, you hesitate. Bringing Hyunjin into your world again—after everything that’s happened—feels risky. But he’s here, willing, and you need his help.

Wordlessly, you walk over to the table where your spellbook lies open and gesture for him to follow. As he approaches, you turn the book toward him, pointing at the page outlining the ritual.

“This,” you say, your voice steady, “is the ultimate plan.”

Hyunjin leans in, his eyes scanning the intricate diagrams and detailed instructions. The more he reads, the more his brows furrow. When he finally straightens up, his expression is a mix of disbelief and intrigue.

“You’re serious about this?” he asks, tilting his head slightly.

“Yes,” you reply.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, breaking the tension in the room. “You’re… something else, you know that?”

You can’t tell if it’s an insult or a compliment, but you choose to ignore it. Instead, you get straight to the point.

“I need you to follow Flint,” you say. “Learn his routine, his habits, where he goes when he’s not at the office. It’ll help me figure out the best time and place to execute this.”

Hyunjin crosses his arms, still smirking. “So I’m your spy now?”

“If you want Flint gone as much as I do, then yes.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Fine. I’ll do it. But don’t expect me to believe in all this…” He gestures vaguely at the book. “Magic stuff.”

You meet his gaze, your voice firm. “You don’t have to believe in it. You just have to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Hyunjin stares at you for a moment longer before nodding. “Alright. Let’s see where this takes us.”

For the first time in days, you feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, the two of you can pull this off.

-

Hyunjin knocks on your door, his mind a whirlwind of frustration. He’s spent the entire day tailing Flint, only to come up empty. Tight security, bodyguards, private drivers—Flint might as well be untouchable. He’s ready to let you know just how impossible your plan is when the door swings open, and there you are.

You don’t look surprised to see him, but your calm demeanor only adds to his irritation. “Come in,” you say simply, stepping aside.

Hyunjin steps into your apartment, glancing around out of habit. The room feels different tonight—dim, shadows stretching across the walls, and that faint smell of something herbal lingering in the air. It makes his skin prickle. His eyes land on the open spellbook on your table, pages marked with symbols he doesn’t understand, and for a second, he wonders just what kind of person he’s teamed up with.

“Did you find anything?” you ask, sitting down at the table.

Hyunjin exhales sharply, dropping into the chair opposite you. “Flint’s a ghost wrapped in money and muscle. He lives in a penthouse with security tighter than a vault. He’s got his assistant slash his bodyguard with him at all times, a driver who doesn’t leave his side, and the only place he goes after work is some exclusive club. And guess what? That place is crawling with security too.”

You nod slowly, processing his words without a hint of panic. It annoys him. “So, no easy access,” you say, almost to yourself.

“None,” Hyunjin says bitterly. “This whole thing is a waste of time.”

But you don’t look deterred. Instead, you lean back in your chair, tapping a finger against the table. “There is one way,” you say, voice steady.

Hyunjin narrows his eyes. “And what’s that?”

“I’ll seduce him.”

He blinks, sure he must have misheard you. “What?”

You meet his stare, unwavering. “If I make him interested in me, I can get close to him. Close enough to do what needs to be done.”

Hyunjin stares at you, caught between disbelief and a strange, simmering unease. “Are you serious? You think Flint would go for someone like you?”

Your lips twitch into a smirk. “You’d be surprised what I can do.”

Something about the confidence in your voice sends a shiver down his spine. He tries to shake it off, folding his arms across his chest. “This is insane. And dangerous.”

“Everything about this is dangerous,” you shoot back, leaning forward now. “But do you have a better idea?”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer. He knows you’re right—there’s no other way. Still, the thought of Flint and you in the same room, let alone this… plan, twists something uncomfortable in his gut.

“What do you need from me?” he asks reluctantly.

“I need you to get something for me,” you say, your tone shifting.

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Flint’s hair.”

For a moment, he thinks you’re joking. When your expression doesn’t change, he feels his stomach drop. “His hair? Why the hell do you need that?”

“For a spell,” you say simply, as if that’s supposed to make sense.

Hyunjin stares at you, his jaw tightening. “You’ve got to be kidding me. What kind of spell?”

“It’s better if you don’t know.”

The casual way you dismiss his question only makes his unease grow. He leans forward, trying to read your expression, but you’re impossible to decipher. “You’re asking me to steal a piece of his hair, and you’re not even going to tell me why?”

“Exactly,” you say, meeting his gaze head-on.

Hyunjin leans back, running a hand through his own hair. This is reckless. This is dangerous. And yet…

“Fine,” he says finally. “I’ll figure out a way to get it. But this better not blow up in our faces.”

“It won’t,” you say quickly.

Hyunjin doesn’t believe you, not fully. But he’s already in too deep to back out now. Standing, he shoves his hands into his coat pockets and heads for the door. Before he leaves, he glances back at you, still sitting at that table with your strange book and your even stranger confidence.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing,” he mutters before stepping out into the night.

As the door shuts behind him, a chill creeps up his spine. This alliance feels like walking a tightrope over a pit of flames, but what choice does he have?

-

After Hyunjin leaves, the apartment feels eerily quiet. You close the door and stand there for a moment, staring at the space he just occupied. There’s a heaviness in your chest, but you push it aside. There’s no time to dwell on emotions when there’s so much to be done.

You grab your spellbook from the table and flip through its worn pages, searching for the ritual you need. The words blur slightly under the dim light, but you recognize the spell when you see it—the ritual to enhance allure, to make yourself irresistible, particularly to a specific target.

Flint may be powerful, but magic is older and stronger than any man.

Taking the book with you, you head to the bathroom. You start by filling the tub, the sound of running water echoing around the small space. As the water rises, you gather the ingredients: dried rose petals for attraction, cinnamon for warmth and desire, honey to sweeten your aura, and a single white candle for purity of intention.

You kneel by the tub, the steam rising to kiss your face. One by one, you add the ingredients to the water, watching as the petals swirl and the honey dissolves. The cinnamon spreads like whispers of fire across the surface, and you swirl it all together with your hand, moving clockwise.

Closing your eyes, you begin to chant:

"By water’s flow and fire’s light. Let allure be my gift this night. Rose and honey, sweet and true. Let my charm be seen by you. By earth and air, my power takes flight. Grant me allure, shining bright."

The words feel heavy on your tongue, their weight sinking into the water as you chant. The air in the bathroom shifts, thickening with an unseen energy.

You remove your clothes and step into the tub, the warm, fragrant water enveloping you. A shiver runs through your body—not from the temperature, but from the unmistakable pulse of magic that seems to seep into your skin, wrapping itself around you like a second layer.

As you sink deeper into the water, you chant the spell again, your voice softer this time, almost a whisper:

"By water’s flow and fire’s light. Let allure be my gift this night."

The energy hums beneath your skin, subtle but undeniable. You lean back, letting the water cover your body, and close your eyes. For a moment, you feel powerful, invincible.

When you finally step out of the tub, droplets of enchanted water slide down your skin, leaving behind a faint warmth that lingers. You wrap yourself in a towel, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. There’s something different in your eyes—something sharper, more confident.

-

The almanac is clear: wear blue today. Blue is the color of trust, calmness, and, most importantly, attraction. It’s a shade that commands attention subtly, not overtly.

You pull out a fitted blouse and a pencil skirt, pairing them with heels that click confidently against the floor as you move. Standing in front of the mirror, you adjust your hair and take a deep breath. This isn’t just about Flint seeing you; it’s about him wanting to see you again.

Arriving at work, you keep your plan simple. Flint always leaves his office at some point during the day—whether it’s for a meeting or simply to make his rounds. That’s when you’ll strike.

You grab a stack of files, deliberately choosing ones that look bulky and hard to manage. The weight of them grounds you, keeping your hands from trembling as you wait near the corridor. Minutes feel like hours, but finally, Flint’s door opens, and he steps out, his usual bodyguard trailing behind him.

You start walking, eyes cast downward, pretending to be absorbed in your papers. Just as he’s about to pass you, you execute your move.

“Oh!” you gasp as you stumble slightly, letting the files slip from your grasp. Papers scatter across the floor in a dramatic mess, a symphony of fluttering pages.

You immediately bend down to pick them up, keeping your movements deliberate. You arch your back slightly, your skirt hugging your curves as you gather the scattered papers.

“I'm so sorry, sir,” you say softly, glancing up at Flint through your lashes. Your tone is humble, apologetic, but not groveling.

For a moment, he does nothing but stare. His expression is unreadable, his sharp eyes watching your every move. Just as you’re starting to feel the tension in the air thicken, he moves. He bends down—not fully, just enough to pick up a stray document near his polished shoe.

“Here,” he says, handing it to you.

“Thank you,” you reply, your fingers brushing his briefly as you take the paper. Your heart beats a little faster, but you keep your composure.

You stand, clutching the files to your chest, and smile shyly. “I’m so sorry again. I wasn’t paying attention.”

For a moment, your eyes meet his, and you take your chance. Quietly, subtly, you chant the spell in your mind:

"With this gaze, let me linger in your thought. A presence remembered, a web unwrought. See me, recall me, let me stay. In your mind, come what may."

There’s no way to know if it works—not yet. Flint straightens his tie and gives you a curt nod before walking away, his assistant close behind. You sigh softly, relieved the interaction is over, and start to collect the rest of your scattered papers.

But then, just as you’re stacking the last of the documents, you feel it. A faint prickle at the back of your neck. You glance up and catch Flint looking over his shoulder at you before disappearing down the corridor.

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. It’s not confirmation, but it’s a start.

-

Hyunjin leans back in the driver’s seat, fingers drumming impatiently on the steering wheel. The leather creaks beneath him as he shifts, trying to find a more comfortable position in his cramped car. He’s been parked across from Flint’s office building for hours, waiting for something—anything—to happen.

Suspension has its perks, he tells himself, though the bitterness lingers in the back of his mind. No endless meetings, no rushed deadlines. Just this: a stakeout that feels like a low-budget spy movie. His career might be teetering on the edge of collapse, but at least he has time to figure out what Flint’s up to.

Finally, just as dusk begins to settle over the city, Flint emerges from the building. Hyunjin straightens in his seat, his heart giving a small jolt of anticipation. Flint strides confidently to his car, his ever-present assistant trailing close behind. Hyunjin starts his engine, keeping a safe distance as he tails them through the city streets.

After a short drive, they pull into the parking lot of a high-end restaurant. Hyunjin follows, finding a discreet spot to park before slipping inside. He tugs his cap lower over his face and scans the dining area, his eyes locking on Flint almost immediately.

To his surprise, Flint isn’t dining alone. Seated across from him is a woman Hyunjin recognizes instantly—Brownwyn, the secretary to the head of the legal team. Flint’s body language is relaxed, his attention fully on her. Brownwyn leans in slightly, a coy smile playing on her lips as she twirls the stem of her wine glass between her fingers.

Hyunjin’s brow furrows. This doesn’t look like a business dinner.

Sliding into a corner booth with a clear view of their table, Hyunjin orders a coffee he doesn’t intend to drink and settles in for the long haul. The restaurant buzzes with quiet conversation and the occasional clink of cutlery, but Hyunjin’s focus never wavers.

He watches as they share a meal, the interaction between them confirming his suspicions. Flint laughs at something Brownwyn says, leaning closer as the evening progresses. There’s an intimacy in their exchange that has nothing to do with work.

When they finally leave, Hyunjin follows them outside, keeping his distance as they climb into Flint’s car. He trails them through the city once more, his pulse quickening when they pull into the parking lot of a nearby hotel.

Hyunjin parks and enters the lobby just in time to see Flint and Brownwyn at the reception desk. He watches from the shadows as they’re handed a keycard and head toward the elevators, Flint’s hand resting casually on the small of Brownwyn’s back.

That’s all he needs to see. Hyunjin lets out a low breath and turns back toward the exit. He doesn’t need to guess what’s going to happen next, and honestly, he doesn’t want to. What matters is that he now has something tangible to work with—a secret Flint wouldn’t want getting out.

Slipping into his car, Hyunjin pulls out his phone and jots down a few notes. His night hasn’t been wasted after all.

-

Hyunjin stands outside your door, the cool evening air brushing against his skin. He lifts his hand to knock, hesitates, then does it anyway. It’s late, but this couldn’t wait.

When you open the door, he’s taken aback. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but something about you is… different. There’s a subtle glow to your skin, a softness to your features that wasn’t there before. He shakes the thought away as you invite him in, your voice as composed as ever.

Once inside, Hyunjin gets straight to the point. "I followed Flint today," he says, his tone clipped.

He recounts everything—the restaurant, the intimate dinner with Brownwyn, the trip to the hotel. “I think we should spread it around the office,” he concludes. “If people know about his fling with Brownwyn, it could ruin his reputation.”

But you shake your head, crossing your arms. “That’s not enough to bring him down, Hyunjin.”

Frustration bubbles in his chest. “Not enough?” he snaps. “I’m suspended. Do you understand what that means? I might not even have a job to go back to!”

You meet his glare with a steady gaze. “Once Flint is taken down, it’ll be easier for you to get your job back,” you say firmly. Your confidence in your plan only makes him angrier, but he knows you’re right. Flint is the key.

You shift the topic. “Did you get the hair?”

Hyunjin sighs and pulls a crumpled tissue from his pocket, holding it up like it’s a prize. “Yeah. I snuck into the coat room at the restaurant and found a strand on his coat.” He places the tissue on the table, feeling a strange sense of accomplishment despite himself.

Your lips curl into a small smile. “Good. That’s one step closer.”

He watches as you carefully pick up the tissue, your fingers grazing the edge of it with reverence, as if it holds the answer to everything. Then a thought strikes him.

“What about your plan to seduce him?” he asks. “You really think that’s going to work?”

You glance up at him, and for a moment, there’s something in your eyes—something sharp and knowing. “I’ve already started,” you say simply.

Hyunjin scoffs, leaning back against the wall. “I don’t know if you’re the type he’d go for,” he mutters, though the words sound more skeptical than cruel.

“I’ve done it before,” you reply confidently, your voice carrying a weight that makes him uneasy.

Hyunjin narrows his eyes at you, trying to read between the lines. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

Your gaze flicks to him, lingering for a second too long. There’s something in your expression—a glint of mischief, but also a flicker of sadness. It’s unsettling, like you’re holding onto something he can’t see.

“It means,” you say slowly, “I know how to get what I want.”

The words hang in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. For a moment, Hyunjin feels like you’re not talking about Flint at all.

-

The night feels heavy, the air thick with unspoken urgency as you prepare for the ritual. Hyunjin’s growing anxiety about his suspended career gnaws at you, a constant reminder that you’re running out of time. If Flint doesn’t fall into your trap soon, the plan will crumble, and with it, any chance of saving Hyunjin's job—and perhaps even yourself.

You glance at the small tissue placed carefully beside the almanac. Inside it lies Flint’s hair, the most critical component of the spell. Hyunjin came through, and now, there’s no time to waste.

With steady hands, you gather the rest of the ingredients: rose petals for passion, honey for sweetness, and a drop of your own blood for power and intent. Each item is laid out before you in a precise circle, their arrangement forming the spell’s foundation.

You light the candles one by one, murmuring the incantation under your breath as each flame flickers to life. The room grows warmer, the air thick with the scent of herbs and wax.

Sitting cross-legged before the altar, you pick up the strands of Flint’s hair, weaving them carefully into the rose petals. Closing your eyes, you focus on the image of him—his sharp gaze, his commanding presence. You imagine him looking at you, drawn to you with an uncontrollable desire.

You begin the chant, your voice steady and low at first, then rising in intensity. Each word carries your intent, your need, your determination. The energy in the room shifts, buzzing like static electricity.

"By fire’s light and heart’s desire. Let him be drawn, his soul inspired. Through thought and dream, he seeks for me. Bound by will, so let it be."

As you chant, you feel the power building within you, a heady sensation that sends chills down your spine. Your hands move instinctively, blending the ingredients with precision, each motion an extension of your will.

When the final words of the spell leave your lips, you take a deep breath and release it slowly, feeling the magic settle over you like an invisible veil. You open your eyes and look at the small bundle of ingredients now bound together with red thread. It hums with energy, glowing faintly under the candlelight.

You place the bundle into a small pouch, clutching it tightly in your hands. The ritual is complete, but the true challenge lies ahead—facing Flint and testing the spell’s power.

-

The next morning, you wake up earlier than usual, carefully selecting your outfit and ensuring every detail of your appearance is flawless. If the spell worked, today will be the day Flint notices you, truly notices you.

As you step into the office, a surge of determination courses through you. When you knock on Flint’s office door, your pulse quickens. His voice calls for you to enter, and you step inside, flashing your most charming smile. He barely glances up from his paperwork, his usual cold demeanor intact.

“Sir,” you begin, stepping closer to his desk. “I heard you have a meeting with a client this afternoon. I’d like to take care of the presentation for you.”

His pen pauses mid-stroke, and he looks up at you. For a moment, there’s nothing in his expression—just the same sharp, calculating stare you’ve come to expect. But you press on, your voice warm and persuasive.

“I know it’s last-minute, but I’ve reviewed the files. I’m confident I can handle it, and it’ll give you more time to focus on… other matters.” You let your words linger, tilting your head slightly as if you’re offering more than just a simple favor.

He studies you in silence, his gaze lingering a moment longer than usual. Finally, he exhales through his nose and leans back in his chair.

“Fine,” he relents. “But don’t mess it up. The meeting’s at two. Be ready.”

You nod, trying not to let the victorious smile show too much. “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

By the time two o’clock rolls around, you’re impeccably prepared. Standing in the elevator beside Flint, you notice his usual air of authority, but there’s something else—something quieter, like curiosity.

As the elevator hums to life, you turn to him with a polite smile. “May I?” you ask, gesturing to his tie, which is slightly askew.

He glances at you, then nods. “Go ahead.”

You step closer, your fingers lightly brushing against the fabric as you adjust the knot. His eyes remain fixed on you, his expression unreadable but intent. You can feel his assistant’s glare burning into you from behind, but you ignore it, focusing on Flint.

“There,” you say softly, straightening the tie and stepping back. “Perfect.”

His gaze lingers on you a moment longer, and you meet it with a confident smile before turning away as the elevator doors open.

In the meeting room, you deliver the presentation with practiced ease, your voice steady and your points concise. You notice, however, that Flint’s eyes remain locked on you the entire time. It’s not the typical critical gaze he gives his employees—it’s something heavier, something that makes your skin prickle with awareness.

You meet his eyes briefly during the presentation, letting a small smile play on your lips before returning to your slides. Each time you glance his way, he’s watching, his expression unreadable but intense.

When the meeting concludes, you gather your papers, feeling a rush of pride and anticipation. As everyone files out, you linger slightly, hoping Flint will say something—anything—to confirm the spell is working.

But he doesn’t. He simply nods at you before walking away, his assistant trailing after him.

You stand there for a moment, the air of victory you’d felt earlier evaporating. Did it work? you wonder, doubt creeping into your mind.

Maybe the spell wasn’t strong enough. Maybe Flint’s will is stronger than you anticipated. Or maybe… just maybe… it’s working more subtly than you realized.

-

Hyunjin paces in front of your door, his frustration bubbling under the surface. He hasn’t felt this restless in a long time—his career hanging by a thread, his life spiraling out of control, and no certainty in sight. He clenches his fists, trying to push back the overwhelming sense of failure creeping in.

Every sound in the hallway makes him turn his head, and when the elevator dings, he freezes. You step out, a look of surprise flashing across your face when you see him.

“Hyunjin?” you ask, your voice soft yet cautious.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, the floodgates open. “I’m losing my mind here. Do you know how hard it is for me to just sit and wait? To follow your plan when I don’t even know if it’s working?” His voice rises slightly, his frustration bleeding through. “My career is on the line, my life is on the line, and all I’m doing is running around in circles for this!”

You stand there, calm and collected, letting him vent without interrupting. When he finally pauses to take a breath, you step closer, your tone steady but firm.

“It is working, Hyunjin. You just have to trust me.”

He scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “Trust you? I don’t even know if—”

“Have you eaten?” you cut him off, your eyes narrowing slightly as you take in his pale complexion.

“What?” he asks, caught off guard.

“You look like you haven’t eaten all day. Come in, I’ll make you something,” you say, unlocking your door and holding it open for him.

Hyunjin hesitates, but the gnawing hunger in his stomach betrays him. He follows you inside, sinking into a chair at your kitchen table while you move around with ease, preparing a simple meal.

The smell of food fills the small space, and despite himself, Hyunjin feels his tension begin to ease. When you set the plate in front of him, he doesn’t even bother to argue, picking up his fork and digging in.

As he eats, a strange sensation washes over him. He glances around the room, the soft lighting, the faint scent of whatever incense you burned earlier, and the way you’re moving about the kitchen—it all feels familiar.

Too familiar.

He pauses mid-bite, the fork hovering in the air as a wave of déjà vu hits him like a freight train. He’s been here before. He’s sat at this table before, eating a meal you prepared, sharing this moment.

But that’s impossible.

“Have we…” he begins, but the words catch in his throat. He shakes his head, trying to push the strange feeling aside.

Before he can finish his thought, your phone buzzes on the counter. You glance at the screen, and your demeanor shifts instantly. You grab the phone, answering it with a tone that’s light and professional.

“Hello?” you say, your back to him as you pace slightly.

Hyunjin can’t help but strain to hear the conversation, catching snippets of your words. “Yes… tomorrow night… drinks? Of course… I’ll be there.”

When you hang up, you turn back to him with a spark of triumph in your eyes. “That was Flint.”

Hyunjin sits up straighter, his curiosity piqued.

“He just invited me for drinks tomorrow night,” you casually say as you pick up your fork to continue eating.

In that moment, Hyunjin instantly regrets that he didn't trust you in the first place.

-

The almanac doesn’t leave room for second-guessing, so you stick to its advice, dressing in the suggested color—a deep, alluring shade that accentuates your figure. You take extra care with your appearance tonight, ensuring every detail is perfect. Flint has to notice you; he has to want you.

The pub Flint mentioned in his call is nothing extravagant, but its cozy, vintage atmosphere is charming in its own way. You arrive purposefully late, just enough to seem like you’re not desperate for his attention.

As you step inside, the warm lighting and low hum of conversation wrap around you. You spot Flint almost immediately, seated in a booth near the back. His ever-present assistant slash bodyguard is by his side, like a shadow that never strays too far.

But tonight, Flint looks different—dressed casually, the stiffness of his usual office attire replaced with a relaxed charm. He seems more his age, and it strikes you that he’s only three years older than you.

When he sees you, a smile spreads across his face, and as you approach, his eyes trail over you. The attention is unmistakable, almost palpable.

“You look stunning,” he says, his voice smoother than you’ve ever heard it.

“Thank you,” you reply with a small smile, tilting your head just enough to let your earrings catch the light.

He leads you to the booth, and to your relief, he gestures for his assistant to leave. As the assistant fades into the background, you feel a slight wave of freedom—it’s just you and Flint now.

“Thanks for coming,” he says, motioning for you to sit.

“Of course,” you reply, sliding into the seat across from him.

He leans back slightly, studying you with an intensity that feels almost disarming. “I wanted to thank you for the presentation yesterday. You did a great job.”

You smile, dipping your head modestly. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I have to admit,” he continues, a playful edge in his tone, “I didn’t think you had it in you. You’ve surprised me.”

You raise an eyebrow, playing along. “Oh? And how exactly did you see me before?”

His smile turns flirtatious, his eyes gleaming. “I thought you were uptight, always buried in your work. I didn’t know there was this… fun side to you.”

You feign a pout. “That’s disappointing. I’m sad you never paid enough attention to me to notice before.”

He chuckles, the sound low and rich. The conversation flows easily, growing more intimate with each passing minute. His charm is undeniable, but you keep reminding yourself this isn’t about you; it’s about the plan.

And then, he leans in.

His face is close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath, his gaze locked onto yours. Your heart races, not with excitement but with the weight of the moment. You promised yourself you’d do anything to make this work, anything to bring Flint to his knees.

But as his lips move closer, something in you snaps.

At the very last second, you dodge, turning your head slightly so his kiss lands awkwardly near your cheek. The air shifts instantly.

When you look back at him, the expression on his face tells you everything. The interest, the desire—it vanishes like a flame snuffed out.

Flint pulls back, his demeanor cool and detached. “I just remembered,” he says, his tone suddenly businesslike, “I have something I need to take care of.”

You nod, even though you know the truth. His excuse is nothing more than a polite dismissal.

As he stands and adjusts his jacket, you force a smile, pretending you don’t see the disappointment in his eyes—or feel the failure burning in your chest.

When he leaves the pub, you remain seated, staring down at the untouched drink in front of you. Your plan has failed, and the weight of that realization sits heavy in the pit of your stomach.

-

Hyunjin hesitates as he steps off the elevator and walks toward your door. He isn’t sure if you’re back yet, but the uncertainty doesn’t stop him. He’s been restless since earlier tonight, an uneasy feeling gnawing at him.

When the door opens, his breath catches for a moment. You’re standing there in a bathrobe, your hair damp and clinging to your neck. Your expression is unreadable, but it’s enough to tell him that things didn’t go as planned.

You don’t say a word, just push the door open wider, allowing him to step inside. Hyunjin walks in slowly, his eyes flickering to you as you close the door behind him.

The silence feels heavy, but he doesn’t press you. He moves to the dining table and takes a seat, his gaze following you as you head to the kitchen. The way you saunter to the counter, grab a glass, and fill it with water is oddly mesmerizing. There’s something different about you tonight—no sharp quips, no smug assurance.

Finally, he breaks the quiet. “How did it go?”

You pause mid-sip, the rim of the glass pressed against your lips. Lowering it slowly, you let out a bitter laugh and lean against the counter. “It went fine... until it didn’t.”

Hyunjin frowns. “What do you mean?”

You recount everything—the pub, the conversation, how everything seemed to be going perfectly until you dodged Flint’s kiss. Your voice remains steady, but Hyunjin can hear the frustration laced in your words, the self-reproach hiding beneath them.

He exhales, leaning back in his chair. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do all that. Really.”

But you shake your head, your eyes narrowing. “No, it’s not okay. I wasn’t enough. I should have done my part right. If I had just—”

“You don’t have to push yourself this far,” Hyunjin interrupts gently, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve already done so much.”

You glare at him, the fire in your gaze a stark contrast to the exhaustion etched into your features. “You don’t get it,” you snap, but your tone lacks venom. It’s frustration—at yourself more than anything.

Hyunjin stares at you, trying to find the right words. But as he watches you stand there, gripping the edge of the counter as if trying to hold yourself together, something shifts in him.

This whole time, he’s been so focused on his own frustrations, his own doubts about the plan, that he never stopped to consider how much you’ve been sacrificing, how much you’ve been giving to make this work.

For the first time, Hyunjin sees the weight you’re carrying—and how deeply determined you are to see this plan through.

“I see it now,” he says softly, almost to himself.

You glance at him, your expression wary. “See what?”

He shakes his head, offering you a faint smile instead of answering. For a moment, the two of you just look at each other, the silence heavy with unspoken words. Then you sigh, push off the counter, and make your way to the table.

“I’m not giving up,” you say, sitting across from him. There’s a quiet determination in your voice, one that Hyunjin can’t help but admire.

“I know,” he replies, his voice steady. “And I’ll make sure we see this through.”

-

The plan you created with Hyunjin echoes in your mind as you park your car in the office lot, waiting for most people to leave. You glance at Flint’s car still parked a few spaces away, and your heart races. This is your moment to get his interest back.

Taking a deep breath, you pop the front hood of your car and adopt a distressed expression. You lean over the engine, pretending to inspect it, though you have no idea what you’re looking for. Pulling out your phone, you stage a fake call for help, your voice carrying just enough to be heard if someone were near.

Time stretches painfully slow until you finally spot Flint walking out of the building with his ever-present assistant trailing behind. Your pulse quickens, but you keep your expression pitiful, glancing down at the engine in feigned confusion.

Flint walks straight toward his car without sparing you a glance, his assistant opening the car door for him. Your chest tightens as doubt creeps in—this might not work.

Swallowing your hesitation, you take the next step. You approach his assistant with timid steps, clutching your hands together nervously.

“Excuse me,” you say, your voice soft but loud enough to stop him. “Can you help me check what's wrong with my car? Please?”

The assistant glances at Flint, who gives him a slight nod. Without hesitation, the assistant walks over to your car and leans over to inspect the engine.

“Looks like your car’s out of commission,” he declares after a quick glance. “You’ll need a mechanic.”

You let your shoulders sag in an exaggerated display of disappointment, biting your lip as you feign helplessness. Flint watches from the comfort of his car, his expression unreadable. It isn’t until his assistant walks back and murmurs something to him that he rolls down the window slightly.

“It’s late,” Flint says, his tone casual but laced with authority. “I’ll have my driver drop you off. Get in.”

You flash him a grateful smile, walking to the car and slipping into the seat next to him. The door shuts with a solid thud, and you feel his presence keenly, even in the spacious interior.

“Thank you,” you murmur, adjusting your posture to seem both grateful and charming.

As the car begins to move, you glance at him shyly. “I really appreciate this. And, by the way, I had fun the other night. It’s a shame it ended so soon.”

Flint turns to you, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if gauging your sincerity. “Is that so?”

You nod, letting a coy smile grace your lips. “I guess I was just nervous. You caught me off guard.”

The ride feels both endless and fleeting. By the time the car pulls up in front of your apartment building, you steel yourself for the final step. The driver opens your door, but you make no move to leave just yet.

Turning to Flint, you lean in closer, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes widen slightly, his body going rigid as you press your lips to his in a soft but deliberate kiss.

When you pull away, his expression is a mix of surprise and intrigue. You smile at him, your voice sultry. “I should’ve done that sooner.”

Before stepping out, you cast him one last glance, your lips curling into a playful smile. “See you tomorrow at the office, Mr. Hargrave.”

With that, you step out of the car, feeling his gaze linger on you as you walk toward your building.

The plan is officially back on track when you catch the sight of Flint’s sleek car parked right out front of your apartment building the next morning. Your pulse quickens with a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation.

As the car door opens, Flint steps out, looking as polished and composed as always. His lips curve into a smile, and for a moment, you revel in the small victory. The spell is working.

“Good morning,” he greets warmly, gesturing toward the open car door. “Shall we?”

Feigning surprise, you raise an eyebrow and offer him a playful smile. “What’s this? You went out of your way to pick me up?”

He chuckles softly, brushing it off. “Your car broke down, didn’t it? I thought it’d be a shame if you were late to work because of that.”

You tilt your head slightly, studying him with a curious gaze. He looks so nonchalant, but you know better. Beneath his composed exterior, the spell is undoubtedly weaving its magic.

“Well,” you say, stepping closer to him, “thank you for the thoughtful gesture.”

Your smile deepens as you slip into the car, catching the faint glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes before he closes the door behind you.

As the car glides through the streets toward the office, you can’t help but feel a surge of confidence. The plan is back in motion, and Flint is right where you want him—under your spell.

-

Hyunjin leans against the wall of the dimly lit hallway, arms crossed tightly as he watches Flint’s car pull up outside your building.

It’s become a routine he hates—Flint stepping out, opening the car door for you like some picture-perfect gentleman, and the two of you exchanging pleasantries that seem far too intimate.

Tonight is no different. Hyunjin’s jaw tightens as Flint helps you out of the car, his hand lingering on your arm longer than it should. You and him exchange a few words, Flint’s deep voice carrying softly in the still evening air.

Then, as if to push Hyunjin further into frustration, Flint tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, leaning in to press a kiss on your lips before stepping back.

Hyunjin’s fists clench at his sides. If he didn’t know this was all part of a carefully crafted plan, he might have believed the two of you were genuinely in love. But the knot in his chest isn’t just frustration—it’s jealousy. Why?

The question eats at him as he waits for Flint’s car to drive away. When it finally disappears down the street, Hyunjin pushes himself off the wall and heads up to your apartment. He knocks sharply, his impatience barely contained.

You open the door almost immediately, as though you were expecting him. Your expression is calm, maybe even a little amused.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asks, his eyes scanning your face for any sign that something is wrong. “Did Flint… do anything to you?”

Your lips curl into a small, knowing smile. “I’m fine,” you say coyly, stepping aside to let him in. “You don’t need to worry so much.”

Hyunjin follows you into the living room, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “We should speed this up,” he says, his voice sharp with urgency. “Let’s execute the plan quickly so you don’t have to keep being around him.”

You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t enjoy his company, either,” you say with a shrug. “But the best time for the ritual is Friday. Until then, I have to keep the act going.”

Hyunjin stares at the floor, jaw tight. “I just don’t like seeing you with him,” he admits, the words spilling out before he can stop them. “He’s… he’s dangerous. I’m afraid he’s going to do something to you.”

You step closer, your expression softening. “Hyunjin, I can handle Flint,” you say gently, your voice steady.

But your reassurance doesn’t ease the tightness in his chest. Hyunjin looks up to meet your gaze, his thoughts a chaotic swirl. Is it really Flint’s cruelty that bothers him, or is it something else entirely?

-

In the office, you step into Flint’s room, proposal folder in hand. He looks up from his desk as you enter, offering a faint smile as you approach. You present your proposal with a professional demeanor, walking him through every point with precision. Once you’re done, you pause, your hands resting lightly on the edge of his desk.

“Mr. Hargrave,” you say, your tone shifting slightly, “may I be unprofessional for just a moment?”

Flint raises an eyebrow but leans back in his chair, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Go ahead,” he says with a small smile.

You smile back, your gaze steady. “You once promised me dinner,” you begin, tilting your head slightly. “I was wondering… when you plan on making good on that promise.”

Flint chuckles, his amusement deepening. “If you’d like,” he says smoothly, “we can have that dinner tonight.”

Feigning a thoughtful expression, you shake your head. “I appreciate the offer, but I have a better idea,” you say, leaning in just slightly. “How about I cook you dinner? At my place.”

Flint’s eyebrows lift, curiosity sparking in his expression. “Your place?” he repeats, clearly intrigued.

You nod, adding with a sly smile, “A dinner at my place is far more intimate. Besides…” You glance over your shoulder, as if expecting to see his ever-present assistant lurking nearby. “I hate seeing your assistant hovering around all the time.”

Flint lets out a low laugh, nodding his agreement. “Fair enough,” he says. “Dinner at your place it is.”

Satisfied, you excuse yourself, turning to leave. But before you can take more than a step, Flint stands and closes the distance between you.

“Since we’re still being ‘unprofessional,’” he says, his voice low, before his hands find your waist and he pulls you closer. His lips meet yours in a firm, calculated kiss, one that you have no choice but to return.

As you kiss him, your eyes flick to the mirror on the wall. Your reflection stares back at you, your lips curved in a small, knowing smile. Mischief glints in your eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the game you’re playing and the plan that’s slowly coming together.

-

Hyunjin knocks on your door, shifting uncomfortably as he waits. When you open it, his breath hitches slightly. You’re dressed in a stunning silk dress, its fabric clinging perfectly to your frame, and your hair is styled in a neat bun that leaves your neck and shoulders elegantly bare.

For a moment, he forgets why he’s here, caught off guard by how effortlessly beautiful you look.

“Come in,” you say with a faint smile, stepping aside to let him in.

He follows you inside, watching as you glide toward the kitchen, your heels clicking softly on the floor. The table is already set, and Hyunjin can see the attention to detail you’ve put into everything.

“Did you get it?” you ask, your tone calm but firm as you begin arranging utensils.

Hyunjin quickly retrieves a small bottle from his pocket—the sleeping pills you asked for—and hands it to you. You take it without hesitation and tuck it away in one of the kitchen drawers.

“Anything else you need?” Hyunjin offers, his voice tinged with concern.

You glance at him over your shoulder and shake your head. “I’ve got it under control. You should go now, before Flint gets here.”

Hyunjin hesitates, standing awkwardly by the counter. “Are you sure? I can stay a little longer—”

You cut him off with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Just be ready for my call when it’s time.”

He nods, but his feet remain rooted to the floor. He can’t shake the unease bubbling in his chest. Part of him worries about what Flint might try tonight, and another part—one he doesn’t want to acknowledge—resents the entire situation.

Finally, he sighs and heads for the door, turning back one last time. “Be careful,” he murmurs, his voice quieter than he intended.

You meet his gaze, your expression steady. “I will.”

Reluctantly, Hyunjin leaves, the knot in his stomach tightening with every step away from your apartment.

-

After dinner, Flint takes a leisurely stroll around your small apartment, his curious eyes wandering over the space. You remain in the kitchen, slicing fruit and arranging cheese to go with the wine. Thankfully, you had the foresight to stow away your witchcraft tools earlier, hiding them in the closet where they’re safely out of sight.

“It's a small apartment so there's not much to see,” you tell him with a small smile.

“I like it. It's cozy.” Flint responds from across the room.

As you glance over your shoulder, making sure Flint’s attention is elsewhere, you slip two sleeping pills into his glass of wine. Your heart races slightly as the pills dissolve into the deep red liquid, but you maintain your composure. With everything ready, you carry the tray to the living room and place it on the table.

Flint returns to the sofa, smiling as he settles beside you. “You’ve really gone all out,” he says, raising his glass in a toast.

You raise your glass as well, playfully saying. “Anything to impress you.”

You clink glasses with him, forcing a smile, and take a small sip of your own wine while keeping a careful eye on him. As he drinks, you ensure his glass never stays full for long, subtly encouraging him to refill it.

After a while, Flint pulls you closer, draping an arm around you as he begins kissing your neck. You suppress the instinct to recoil and instead lean into his embrace, pretending to enjoy the intimacy. You kiss him back, but your mind is elsewhere, silently urging the sleeping pills to take effect.

When his hands begin to wander, you gently push away, offering an apologetic smile. “I need to use the bathroom,” you say softly, slipping out of his grasp.

He nods, clearly disappointed so you place a quick peck on his lips as consolation. Closing the bathroom door behind you, you take a deep breath, counting the seconds as you hope the pills are working.

After a few minutes, you return to find Flint still sitting on the sofa, though his eyelids are heavy, and his movements sluggish. He looks up at you with a faint smile, oblivious to what’s happening.

“You look tired,” you say, sitting beside him and offering your arms. “Here, rest for a bit.”

Flint leans into you, his head resting against your chest as his breathing grows slow and steady. A moment later, he’s fully asleep.

Once you’re certain he’s out cold, you carefully ease him off you and grab your phone. Dialing Hyunjin’s number, you speak in a hushed tone. “It’s time.”

-

Hyunjin doesn’t bother knocking; you’re already there, opening the door as if you’ve been waiting for him. The moment he steps inside, his eyes land on Flint, sprawled out on the sofa and deeply asleep thanks to the potent sleeping pills Hyunjin sourced from his pharmacist friend. He notices you tidying up the remnants of your staged evening, clearing the glasses and dishes from the coffee table.

“What do you need me to do?” Hyunjin asks without preamble, his voice low.

You motion toward the furniture. “Help me move everything.”

Together, the two of you shift the furniture to the edges of the room. Once the space is cleared, you roll up the carpet, revealing a carefully drawn rune beneath it, etched onto the floor in a pattern that Hyunjin can only describe as intricate and otherworldly.

“Lift him,” you say, gesturing to Flint.

Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate, though he grits his teeth as he hauls Flint’s limp body off the couch and carries him to the center of the rune. Once Flint is positioned as instructed, you disappear into the bedroom to retrieve more items.

Hyunjin’s gaze lingers on the rune as he waits, a sense of unease creeping into his chest. When you return, you’re carrying an array of tools and objects he can’t even begin to identify. Candles, vials, a small chalice, and—most unsettling—a dagger.

“Set the candles around the circle and light them,” you instruct, kneeling on the floor as you arrange your witchcraft materials.

Hyunjin obeys, carefully placing the candles at specific points around the rune and lighting them one by one. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows across the room, the atmosphere growing heavier with each passing second. He finishes and steps back, watching as you lay your tools in front of you and take a deep, steadying breath.

“Anything else?” he asks, though the tension in his voice is clear.

You glance up at him briefly. “Step back. I need to start.”

Hyunjin retreats to the edge of the room, leaning against the wall as he watches you. He’s never been one to believe in witchcraft or rituals, but something about the way you move, the focus in your eyes, makes him hesitate.

You begin chanting, your voice low and rhythmic, as you add ingredients one by one to the chalice. Hyunjin watches as you pour liquids, crush herbs, and sprinkle powders, each action deliberate and precise. Then, you take the dagger, holding it with a calm determination that makes his stomach churn.

Without hesitation, you press the blade against your palm, cutting deep enough for blood to bead and then flow freely. You ball your hand into a fist, letting the blood drip steadily into the chalice. Hyunjin stiffens, torn between stepping in and letting you continue.

As the blood mingles with the other ingredients, you set the chalice on the floor and light a small flame beneath it. The mixture begins to burn, smoke curling upward as you chant louder, your voice rising with each repetition.

Hyunjin’s unease deepens as the room seems to shift around him. The air grows thick, pressing against his skin, and the flickering candlelight feels almost alive. He tries to convince himself it’s just his imagination, but he can’t shake the feeling that something is happening.

Hyunjin watches in tense silence as you place the chalice at the heart of the rune, the contents still smoldering. You close your eyes, steadying your breathing as you stretch your arms outward, the dagger still held tightly in one hand. Then, in a language that sounds ancient and otherworldly, you begin the incantation:

"To the peace of death, I call you forth. Let your life fuel my flame. Through natural fate, this path unfolds. From blood and soul, my magic returns to me."

Your voice resonates, starting low but growing with intensity. Each word seems to ripple through the room, vibrating in Hyunjin’s chest like an unearthly hum. The candles, though extinguished, seem to glow faintly, the runes on the floor pulsing with a strange energy.

You move to the chalice, gripping it tightly, and continue the spell, your voice now echoing as if the words are being spoken in tandem by someone—or something—else:

"From the shadows of this world, I draw the light. Flint Hargrave, I take your life. Nature shall not see this as betrayal. For your soul becomes my tool."

Hyunjin can’t look away as you pour the remaining contents of the chalice over the center of the rune, the liquid sizzling against the air as if it were molten. A deep rumble vibrates beneath his feet, subtle at first but growing stronger.

Then, gripping the dagger tightly, you press it against your palm once more, fresh blood dripping onto the circle as you chant the final, most powerful lines:

"My blood, your blood. I give life to reclaim my magic. Let my soul be eternal. And let your death appear as nature’s will."

The air explodes with energy as the rune flares to life, a bright, unnatural light illuminating the room. Flint’s body jerks as if an invisible force is gripping him. His chest rises once in a shallow breath before his entire body relaxes, utterly still.

Hyunjin shivers as the room goes deathly quiet again, save for the soft crackle of dying embers from the chalice. The energy in the air feels different now—charged and alive, yet cold and foreboding.

You rise slowly, wiping the blood from your hand onto a cloth as you look over your shoulder at Hyunjin. For a moment, he sees something in your eyes—a glint of power, or perhaps something darker.

“It’s done,” you announce.

Hyunjin stares at you, uncertain of what he just witnessed but knowing, without a doubt, that something far more significant than a simple ritual has taken place.

-

You and Hyunjin are moving the furniture back into place, the room slowly returning to normal. Hyunjin keeps glancing at your hand, his brows furrowed as his eyes linger on the blood-soaked cloth wrapped around it.

“Just a small cut,” you assure him, catching his concern. “I’ll handle it later.”

Hyunjin doesn’t look convinced but says nothing as you direct him to help move Flint to your bed. He pauses, clearly uncomfortable. “Why not just leave him on the sofa? He’s out cold. He won’t even notice.”

“It’s better if it looks like we slept together,” you reply, your tone even and practical. “It makes the story more believable.”

Hyunjin mutters something under his breath but follows your instructions, carefully lifting Flint’s limp form and carrying him to your bed. As he starts undoing Flint’s tie and unbuttoning his shirt, he glances up—and freezes.

Across the room, you're changing out of your dress, slipping into a silk nightgown that clings to your form. The dim light casts shadows that highlight every curve, and for a moment, Hyunjin finds himself staring at the bare expanse of your back. His throat tightens as unease washes over him.

He quickly looks away, focusing on pulling the blankets over Flint’s body.

“You okay over there?” you ask, your tone light but teasing as you tie the straps of your gown.

Hyunjin clears his throat, his voice coming out a bit strained. “Yeah, just... making sure everything looks convincing.”

Once Flint is settled, Hyunjin hesitates by the doorway, his fingers twitching at his sides. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do?”

“Nothing left but to wait,” you say, brushing a hand over your hair as you settle into the chair by your vanity.

Hyunjin nods slowly, his jaw tightening. His eyes flicker to the cloth on your hand again, and his uneasiness spills into his words. “Just uh... take care of that cut, okay?”

“I will,” you reply softly, offering him a faint smile.

Reluctantly, Hyunjin turns to leave, his footsteps heavy as he makes his way out of your apartment. As the door closes behind him, a strange silence settles over the room, leaving you alone with Flint—and the heavy weight of what you’ve just done.

-

The sleeping pills must be far stronger than you anticipated because Flint sleeps through the entire morning. His phone vibrates on the nightstand for what feels like the hundredth time, the name "Assistant" flashing on the screen. You sigh, brushing your hair out of your face as you glance at the time.

Climbing onto the bed, you carefully settle yourself next to him, your movements deliberate and gentle. Leaning over, you softly shake his shoulder. "Flint," you say, your voice light and melodic. "Time to wake up."

He stirs, letting out a small groan before squinting up at you. His eyes struggle to focus, confusion flickering across his face.

You smile warmly, tilting your head. "Good morning, sleepyhead," you sweetly greet, brushing imaginary lint off his shoulder. "Your phone’s been ringing non-stop. I think your assistant’s starting to worry you’ve dropped off the face of the earth. If you don’t pick up, they’ll probably assume you’re dead."

That earns a groggy chuckle from him as he sits up, rubbing his face. He grabs his phone and answers it briefly, mumbling reassurances before hanging up.

When his gaze finally returns to you, his brows knit together slightly. “What... happened?” he asks, his voice rough with sleep.

You let out a light laugh, reaching out to straighten the rumpled sheets around him. “Oh, come on!” you tease, feigning a hint of hurt. “I can’t believe you don’t remember. We had such a good time last night.”

He blinks, his confusion shifting to realization as he looks down, noticing for the first time that he’s naked under the blanket. His eyes widen slightly, and a slow smirk creeps onto his lips.

You giggle, playfully running a hand through your hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you take your time piecing it together,” you say, slipping off the bed with a practiced grace.

“For now, how about breakfast?”

As you walk toward the kitchen, a quiet, satisfied smile graces your lips. Inside, you’re celebrating your triumph. Everything is moving perfectly according to plan.

-

Three days have passed, and Hyunjin finds himself pacing his apartment, his mind restless. The uncertainty gnaws at him, a constant hum of tension in the back of his thoughts. He’s not sure how long the spell takes to work—or if it’s even working at all.

His mind circles back to you, as it often does these days. He worries about you being stuck in this fabricated relationship with Flint if things don’t go as planned. Worse, he can’t shake the thought that you might have to keep playing along indefinitely, enduring Flint’s company far longer than you should.

Hyunjin sighs, running a hand through his hair. It’s not just his own career hanging by a thread—it’s yours too. The weight of it all feels suffocating.

The sudden ringing of his phone snaps him out of his thoughts. Glancing at the screen, he sees the office number flashing and hesitates for a moment before answering.

“Yes?” he says, trying to keep his voice steady.

“We need you to come in tomorrow for further examination,” the voice on the other end informs him. “Please be on time.”

Hyunjin’s grip tightens around his phone. “I’ll be there,” he says, keeping his response curt before hanging up.

He stares at the phone in his hand, unsure of how to feel. Does this mean things are moving forward, or is it just another step in prolonging his uncertainty? He can’t tell if this is a good sign or a bad one. What he does know is that his future remains unclear—and yours feels equally bleak.

On the way to your apartment, as he waits for the traffic light to turn, Hyunjin catches sight of Flint’s car pulling up in front of your building. He sees you step out, Flint following to open the door for you. Flint leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips before returning to his car.

From where Hyunjin stands, he can’t see your expression. He can’t tell how much effort it’s taking you to keep up the charade. Hyunjin clenches his fists and forces himself to calm down as he crosses the street.

When you open the door for him, you’re as composed as ever. You step aside, letting him in like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

But as he looks at you, something feels off. There’s no spark of confidence in your eyes, none of the determination you’d had when you first presented this plan.

“Do you think it’s working?” he asks cautiously.

You hesitate. Your gaze flickers to the floor, then back to him, and he feels the weight of your silence before you even speak.

“There’s a chance it’s not working,” you admit quietly. “I’ve… lost my magic.”

Hyunjin blinks, the words taking a moment to sink in. “What do you mean you’ve lost it?”

You press your lips together, avoiding his gaze. “I did something. Something that cost me my power.”

Hyunjin’s brows knit together, his unease mounting. “And you’re only telling me this now?” His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it.

You look at him, guilt etched into your features. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I—” You pause, then force the words out. “I cast a spell on you, Hyunjin.”

The room feels colder all of a sudden, and Hyunjin steps back, staring at you. “What?”

“I used my magic on you,” you say, voice trembling. “And I gave up my powers in exchange for being able to revoke it.”

Hyunjin stands there, frozen, trying to process what you’ve just told him. His mind flashes through your time together, questioning every moment, every interaction. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. The betrayal, the shock, the confusion—it’s all too much.

Finally, he looks at you again, his expression unreadable. “You… cast a spell on me?” His voice is quiet, strained.

You nod, guilt heavy in your eyes. "I didn’t know it would lead to this."

Hyunjin turns away, running a hand through his hair. He doesn’t leave, but he doesn’t speak either, his mind spinning as he tries to come to terms with what you’ve just confessed.

-

When Hyunjin shows up at your door, his expression says everything before he even speaks. He steps inside, and you prepare yourself. After the initial pleasantries, he asks the question you knew was coming.

“You… cast a spell on me?”

The moment hangs heavy between you, and you realize there’s no way out of this. You have to tell him everything. So you do. You confess to casting a love spell on him, to manipulating his feelings. You explain how you sacrificed your magic to undo the damage, thinking it was the only way to make things right.

As you speak, you watch the light in his eyes dim, the distance between you growing with each word. You can feel him slipping away from you all over again, and it makes your heart ache in a way you hadn’t thought possible.

When you finish, silence fills the space between you. Hyunjin doesn’t say a word, his expression unreadable. You don’t know if he’s upset, angry, or simply in shock.

You force yourself to look at him, your voice trembling as you speak. “I’ll understand if you want nothing to do with me. I promise I’ll stay away from you.”

He doesn’t respond, his silence louder than any words he could have said. Finally, he turns toward the door, and you realize this might be the end. The final goodbye.

“Wait,” you say, your voice cracking.

Hyunjin pauses, his hand on the doorknob, but he doesn’t turn to face you. You rush to your bedroom, grabbing something from a small box tucked away in the corner. When you return, you hold out a talisman.

“I know you’re being called to the office tomorrow,” you say, your voice soft. “Please, take this.”

He takes it from you without a word, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment before he steps out of your apartment.

As the door clicks shut, you stare at the empty space where he stood, the sound of your whispered “Goodbye” barely audible even to yourself.

-

Hyunjin’s head feels like a chaotic storm, each thought crashing into the next, leaving him unable to focus. The talisman you gave him is tucked into his pocket, but he hasn’t thought much about it since leaving your apartment. Right now, none of it seems to matter. Not the examination, not his job, not even the mess he’s left behind with you.

As he sits in the cold, sterile interrogation room, he stares blankly at the table, his mind drifting. He’s been waiting here for nearly an hour now, and the oppressive silence only amplifies the noise in his head.

Maybe I should just resign, he thinks bitterly. Spare them the trouble. What’s the point of dragging this out?

He starts tapping his fingers on the table impatiently, muttering under his breath. “What’s taking so long? Are they trying to torture me or what?”

The door finally creaks open, and a staff member steps in. Hyunjin straightens up, expecting the examination to finally begin.

“Sorry for the delay,” the man says, his tone formal. “I'm afraid we need to reschedule the examination.”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows shoot up. “Reschedule? What? Why?”

The man hesitates, looking uncomfortable. “News just broke out... CEO Flint has passed away.”

Hyunjin’s fingers abruptly stops tapping the table and he freezes on his seat. “What?”

“It’s all over the office,” the man continues. “Apparently, it was a sudden heart attack.”

Hyunjin’s mind blanks for a moment. Flint is dead. The words echo in his head, feeling surreal.

“A sudden heart attack,” he repeats slowly, almost as if testing how it sounds.

“Yes. I’m sure more information will come out soon, but for now, the office is in chaos.”

The man leaves the room, but Hyunjin barely notices. His hands rest on the table, fingers tightening into fists as the weight of the situation sinks in.

The spell worked.

His heart feels heavy, a mixture of relief, shock, and guilt flooding his system. Hyunjin isn’t sure what to feel. Flint is gone, and the dark cloud looming over his and your lives has lifted, but at what cost?

-

It’s been a week since the news about Flint’s sudden death, and Hyunjin’s been reinstated with a clean slate, or at least that’s how it seems. No conclusive evidence, no real suspicion, and here he is, back in his seat, his career still intact.

He should be relieved, he knows that. He should be celebrating that the spell worked, that Flint is gone, and he’s free from the twisted situation that had him tangled up in it all. But instead, there’s this hollow feeling gnawing at him, and it's impossible to ignore.

With a sigh, Hyunjin pulls the talisman from his pocket. The small object feels heavier in his hand now, its meaning no longer as simple as a mere piece of luck. This was supposed to be his victory—his triumph. The key to his freedom. And yet, all he feels is sadness.

His fingers trace over the edges of the charm, memories of the nights spent with you flooding back. The time he spent with you felt like an illusion now, a dream that’s shattered. He’s angry, of course, at the deceit. You cast a spell on him, used magic to manipulate him without his knowledge. He didn’t even have a chance to choose. Betrayed, he feels the sting of that truth, raw and cutting.

But underneath that anger is something else, something he can’t shake. A deep sense of loss. He can’t understand it. Why does he feel this way?

"I got what I wanted," he murmurs to himself, his voice tinged with bitterness. "So why does it feel like I’ve lost everything?"

The bustling noise of the office around him fades into the background as his thoughts consume him. He wants to hate you for what you did. He wants to walk away and leave everything behind. But he can’t.

Because no matter how hard he tries, a part of him still cares for you. And that part of him can’t stop wondering if he made a mistake when he walked out of your apartment that night.

-

You take a deep breath as you gather the remnants of Flint's presence in your apartment—the items he touched, the things tainted by his energy. One by one, you place them in a bag, careful not to let your emotions creep back in. It’s not just about removing his physical traces; it’s about banishing the negativity that still lingers, suffocating your space.

With the bag clutched tightly, you step outside to a safe spot and set it ablaze. The flames crackle and hiss, consuming every last fragment. You whisper under your breath, a spell to release the darkness.

"By light of stars and flame of sun. Cleanse this space; let harm be none. All shadows fade, all ill be gone. This is my will; let peace be won. So mote it be."

The fire dies down, leaving behind nothing but ash. You exhale deeply, feeling a small weight lift from your chest.

Back in your apartment, the air still feels heavy, clinging to your skin like a second layer. You draw yourself a bath, infusing the water with a few drops of essential oils—lavender for peace, eucalyptus for clarity. As the warm water embraces you, you feel a subtle shift in your energy.

Once submerged, you whisper another spell, letting your voice carry into the water:

"From root to crown, from heart to soul. Let purity and light take hold. All dark removed, all wounds made whole. By power divine, restore control. So mote it be."

The words resonate through you, calming your mind. You close your eyes and let the spell do its work, envisioning the negativity dissolving into the water. You imagine it swirling away, leaving you lighter, clearer.

When the bath is done, you step out feeling renewed, wrapping yourself in a soft towel. The final step is to cleanse the air around you. You light a white candle and carry it through each room, whispering the same purification spell for the space. As the soft glow illuminates the corners, you feel the lingering shadows retreat.

Finally, you sit in the center of your living room, lighting a bundle of sage. The smoke curls into the air, spiraling upwards, carrying away the last traces of darkness. You speak firmly:

"This space is mine; it is sacred and free. No harm may enter; no ill may be. Only light and love dwell here with me. So mote it be."

The silence that follows feels comforting, like an embrace. You smile faintly, knowing you’ve taken the first step to reclaim your life and your peace. But before you can fully settle, there’s a knock at the door.

Hyunjin.

You debate ignoring it, letting the past stay behind that door, but the longing within you wins. Wrapping yourself in your robe, you pad to the door and open it.

There he is, standing on your doorstep, a faint, hesitant smile playing on his lips. It’s not the expression you expected—no anger, no bitterness, just something softer, something unsure.

“Can I come in?” he asks, his voice quiet but steady.

You nod, stepping aside to let him in. You don’t trust yourself to speak, afraid of what might spill out if you try.

The air feels heavy as you stand in the doorway, watching Hyunjin step inside. His presence stirs up emotions you’ve been trying to suppress for days. His smile is soft, but there’s a nervous energy about him, as though he’s unsure of what he’s doing here.

“I didn’t see you at work,” he starts, his voice light, as if trying to mask the tension. “Thought I’d check in. You know, make sure you weren’t... taking days off as a grieving girlfriend for Flint.”

His attempt at humor makes your chest tighten, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. You cross your arms, standing stiffly as he slowly moves around your space, his eyes scanning the room like he’s committing every detail to memory.

When he finally stops, his gaze locks onto yours. His expression shifts, the teasing gone, replaced by something deeper. “Why did you revoke the love spell?”

The question hits you like a wave. You hesitate, the words caught in your throat. Part of you wants to avoid it, to bury the truth even deeper, but you know he deserves to hear it.

You inhale sharply, steadying yourself. “Because I love you,” you admit, your voice trembling. “Too much to keep you like that.”

The confession spills out, leaving you vulnerable in a way you haven’t been before. Tears threaten to blur your vision, but you fight to hold them back, not wanting to fall apart in front of him.

Hyunjin steps closer, his eyes searching yours. “You remember everything, don’t you? From when I was under the spell?”

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Everything.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” he presses, his voice tinged with both frustration and hurt.

“I tried,” you choke out, tears now freely falling. “I tried so many times but you... you hate me too much.”

Your voice cracks, and you look away, unable to bear the weight of his gaze. Every word feels like a dagger to your heart, reopening wounds you thought had begun to heal.

Suddenly, Hyunjin closes the distance between you. His hands gently cradle your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears. The tenderness in his touch makes you crumble, and you can’t stop the sobs from escaping.

“You should’ve told me,” he whispers, his voice soft now, almost pained.

Before you can respond, his lips are on yours. The kiss is gentle yet urgent, a mix of longing and regret. You melt into him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as if he might vanish if you let go.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, the ache in your chest subsides, replaced by the warmth of his embrace.

-

Tracing every curve of your body feels like a trip back to his favorite place. Hyunjin may not remember it but he knows, he's been here before and it brings out that sense of belonging. He uses his hands, his lips to retrace the steps and as he puts his body on top of you, his body fits yours like two pieces of puzzle.

“How can I forget such beautiful body?” He mutters with a gentle kiss on your navel.

He continues the kisses upward until his lips reunite with yours again and each kiss he plants is harder and longer than the previous one. One hand glides down your front and not stopping until his fingers meet your wet sex.

Intrigued by the delicate flesh, Hyunjin looks down as he pushes his slender fingers inside you, he watches as you take them and his eyes widen at how you clench around them. He gulps air before saying, “You know how to get me impatient.”

Slowly, he pulls his two fingers and not wasting time to shove them into his mouth, his luscious lips wrapped around his fingers as he sucks, hard.

“How can I forgot this sweet, sweet taste.” His voice is so low it's almost like a whisper.

His patience runs thin. He parts your legs wider and positions himself in between. While stroking his cock in his hand, Hyunjin’s intense eyes fixated on yours and the way he can see the want in your eyes... he's stroking his cock faster than before.

Hyunjin can’t waste another second just looking at your gushing cunt and let it tantalizing him the longer he looks at it. He holds the side of your thighs after placing his cock in your wetness, he begins rocking his hips back and forth, rubbing his length in between your slit and at the same time, smearing your essence all over it.

“Fucking goodness!” He breathlessly says with his deep, heavy voice, tinted with hurries.

Hyunjin glides his hands down to your hips and holds you still as he pushes his cock, his eyes fixated on watching his length disappearing into you little by little. He unconsciously holds his breathe watching you take it, the size, the girth, and the veins coiling around it.

The moment he's fully sheathed inside you, Hyunjin drops his head into the crook of your neck. With his mouth resting so close to your ear, you can hear his raw, low groans. After a moment of composing himself, Hyunjin hovers above you, a hand cupping your jaw.

“Tell me, mmh?” He hastily kisses your lips in between sentences. “Tell me how can I forgot this tightness, this... fucking good pussy?”

Hyunjin props his hands on each side of you as he begins moving his hips, slowly and deliberately, his eyes fluttering shut as if he can't comprehend the sensation of each his movement caused.

“Oh, fucking...” He can't even finish his sentence but pulls out of you immediately. He knows that if he's inside you for a second longer, he'll lost it.

He frowns at the detachment and makes up for it by kissing you, placing his lips on every inch of skin available to him that breathing becomes unnecessary to him. Hungry for more skin to kiss, he flips you over, one hand holding you down by the nape of the neck as his plush lips peppering your back with soft yet searing kisses.

“How are you so soft all over?” His voice filled with disbelief but he doesn’t necessarily needs an answer from you as he plants his mouth on the base of your spine.

He makes use of his other hand to fondle your ass cheeks and from there, it's making its way back to your cunt, fingers teasing around your entrance, making it wet as he's ready to penetrate again.

On his second attempt, Hyunjin has better self control, he takes a deep breathe once he's fully buried inside you and then slowly, he lays on top of you, his chest meeting your back, skin to skin.

Lying face down with your head on the pillow, he puts all of your hair to the side and then presses a gentle kiss on the column of your throat. With utmost carefulness, Hyunjin begins thrusting from behind you and the skin slapping sounds filling the room.

Putting his hand around your neck, he tilts your head to the back until your eyes meet his. “You feel so fucking good, do you know that?” A smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he says it.

You only nod as you innocently gaze into his eyes and lowly moaning to his thrusts, arousing him more than he expected. You drop your head to the side, leaning against his forearm as he intently watches your facial expressions ever changing as the pleasure mounting inside you.

“You're close, mmh, beautiful?” He's picking up the pace but he asks you so sweetly.

Your wide-eyed gaze lingers on him as you lick your lips and nod.

Hyunjin can’t help himself but kisses your open mouth as he feels you tightening around his cock and plants a lingering peck on your lips. “I'm not going to stop until you come around my cock.”

He takes your hand and laces it together as he closes the gap between your bodies, his hips not slowing down even for a moment, determined to give you your release.

“Hyunjin...” you softly whine.

It's hard to ignore how you tighten around him, how you're sucking him deeper into yours as you hit your climax. He holds on to his last shred of self control to not lose it there. He wants to make this lasts for as long as possible.

As you're dealing with the waves of pleasure lapping over you, Hyunjin places kisses on your neck and shoulders, eventually your lips as satisfed moans spilling out of your parted lips. He holds you close and as he maneuvers himself to lay back on the mattress.

Giving you a moment of rest, Hyunjin uses the time to cuddle you, wrapped his muscular arms around you and stays like that as you're relishing your orgasm.

You turn your head to the back to face him, demanding a kiss from him and he gives it without a doubt, pressing a kiss on your lips.

The sheet is a crumpled mess as you bodies slithering together, limbs all over each other, touching, squeezing, pressing... it doesn’t take long to get you hot all over again.

Hyunjin reluctantly lets go one of his hands busy fondling your breasts and lowering it to your core, rubbing your clit that engorges the more he stimulates it. If only his mouth was resting close to it, he'd suck on it. He uses his fingers instead, pinching it in between, earning a soft gasp from you.

“Hyunjin,” you softly call his name. “Put it back in.”

In response, Hyunjin hastily kisses your lips. “With pleasure.”

In the midst of him thrusting you from behind, you lift your leg and put it over his thigh, providing him more depth and allowing him to continue circling your clit to give you extra  stimulation.

His lips keep lathering yours and he likes how your moans spilling into his mouth, hot and sultry, and at times, he doesn’t stop himself from playfully sucks on your tongue.

“Keep clenching around me like that and I'm going to... oh, cum a lot inside you,” he finishes his sentence with a haste kiss on your lips. “Is what where you want it, mmh? Inside?”

You curve your arm around his neck and bring his head close for a kiss. “Inside. Yes.”

“Thank fuck!” He playfully curses against your lips. “Cause I don't think I'd be able to pull out right in time.”

With that being said, Hyunjin moves at such ease, trying to delay his high as long as possible and savoring every second of it, his arms tightening around you as he thrusts into you slowly yet with such intensity that makes your body squirms in reaction.

His head is buried deep in your neck as he incessantly moving to chase his high and when he finally comes undone, he holds you tightly.

With his head still clouded with overwhelming pleasure, you bring his hand that is resting between your legs to your mouth and he watches as you take each one of his fingers into your mouth, sucking it with your eyes closed. Once you're done with all the five fingers, you bring his hand down to your breast to fondle it together with him.

You turn your head to the side to capture his lips in yours and Hyunjin likes every bit of this moment. The intimacy, the tenderness of it all, you.

He slightly pulls away from the kiss to say. “I don't want to forget this.”

Lying beside you in the quiet stillness of your bedroom, Hyunjin feels a rare sense of peace. He pulls you closer, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. His gaze softens as it meets yours, and he notices how the faint glow of moonlight highlights the lingering sadness in your expression.

Without thinking, his hand reaches for yours, his thumb brushing over the tender scar on your palm. It’s a reminder of the ritual you performed, the night everything began to shift.

His voice is soft as he asks, “Does it still hurt?”

You shake your head, your lips curving into the smallest of smiles. But Hyunjin’s heart aches all the same. Slowly, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the scarred skin. The simple act feels more intimate than anything he’s done before, as though he’s sealing his own unspoken promise.

There’s something stirring in him—an ache, a yearning, a strange sense of déjà vu. It’s like his heart remembers moments his mind refuses to recall, fragments of the love spell that linger despite everything. As he holds you, Hyunjin begins to wonder if the spell merely amplified something that was already there.

His voice breaks the silence as he sees the tenderness in the way you gaze at him. “What are you thinking?”

You hesitate for a moment, your eyes searching his face, before answering quietly. “Do you still hate me?”

Hyunjin laughs softly, shaking his head and then presses a kiss on your lips.

“No,” he says, his voice warm and reassuring. “Not even close.”

-

Your mornings have become a ritual of their own. The day always begins earlier now, with Hyunjin beside you. The first rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, illuminating his peaceful expression as he lies next to you. It’s a moment you savor before the world demands the façade of professionalism you’ve both agreed to maintain.

Hyunjin stirs, pulling you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Just five more minutes,” he mumbles, his voice husky with sleep.

You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. “Only five,” you tease, knowing full well it’ll stretch longer.

Soon, what started as lazy cuddles turns into a heating moment of your bodies pressed so close together and a little later, he has you around him.

You're straddling him on the bed with both feet planted against the mattress as a leverage, allowing you to bounce on his cock. His hands resting on each side of your waist, angling your body and at the same time, guiding your movements.

Hyunjin’s mouth is full of your flesh, his tongue circling around your nipple before sucking it as hard as he could. His eyes are wide and dark with lust, looking up at you with his mouth gaping open.

“Keep going, baby.” He sweetly mutters with a haste kiss on your neck and jaw. “Fuck me good. Drain me.”

Instead of adding speed, you choose to keep the steady pace but you switch to roll your hips while intentionally clenching around him. You like watching him overwhelmed by pleasure, his mouth gaping open with raw groans spilling out of it.

When he finally cum around you, you hold his gaze and watch as pleasure filled his eyes. Hyunjin tightens his hold around you and draws you close as he releases his seed inside you. His lips begin to plant kisses on your skin, shoulder, chest, neck and then he traces down your jaw with his plush lips before capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

“It's been more than five minutes, ” you playfully say and he looks so beautiful as you cradle his face in your hands that you can't help but kiss his red, full lips.

He shakes his head and wrapping his arms tightly around you. “Stay. Don't pull away yet.”

His hand glides up to the nape of your neck, allowing him to angle your head as he pleases as he leans in for a long, lingering kiss that takes your breath away. He smiles when he breaks the kiss and keeps his forehead pressed against yours as he jokingly says, “You didn’t put me under a spell again, right?”

You loop your arms around his neck and play with the tendrils of hair on the back of his head. “Even if I did, it's a spell to make you less clingy around me.”

Hyunjin lets out a low chuckle but it's enough to make his eyes form two crescent moons. “Are you sure it's not the other way around?”

“A hundred percent sure.” You place a long peck on his lips as he reciprocates with a longer one.

“We should do it.” Hyunjin says out of the blue.

You blink at him, confused. “Do what?”

“I saw it on your spellbook,” Hyunjin says, his gaze steady and unwavering. “The one that binds our souls together.”

Your reaction is immediate—your eyes widen in shock, and you shake your head. “No,” you say firmly. “You don’t have to do something like that. You don't have to prove anything.”

“It’s not about proving anything,” Hyunjin says, sitting up slightly so he can look at you more directly.

“It’s about not forgetting. I don’t want to lose this—or you—again. If there’s even a chance it could happen…” He trails off, his voice softening. “I want to remember. All of it.”

You sit up as well, staring at him with a mixture of disbelief and concern. “Hyunjin, this isn’t something to take lightly. Our souls would be connected forever. You don’t want to do this.”

But Hyunjin has already made up his mind. He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. “I know what I want,” he says gently. “And it’s you. So if this is the way to keep you, then let’s do it.”

His resolve is unwavering, and though doubt flickers in your eyes, Hyunjin knows you’ll agree. You love him, and you’ve already sacrificed so much to be with him. Now, it’s his turn to choose you.

-

Reluctantly, you flip through your spellbook, finding the ritual you hadn’t dared to consider before. The process is simple, yet the weight of its meaning is anything but. You scan the instructions one last time and gather what you need: a spool of red thread and the candles from your altar.

The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of flickering candlelight dancing against the walls. You’ve drawn the rune onto the floor with meticulous care, the ancient symbol connecting you both to the magic you’re about to invoke. Sitting across from each other inside the rune, you watch Hyunjin’s face, searching for any sign of hesitation.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” you ask, your voice quiet but firm.

“I’m sure,” he says, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“This is permanent,” you remind him one last time as you hold the spellbook in your hands. “Once our souls are bound, there’s no undoing it.”

Hyunjin meets your gaze, his expression calm but resolute. “I know,” he says.

You nod, swallowing the knot of nerves in your throat, and reach for his hands. They’re warm and steady as they clasp yours, his touch grounding you as you prepare for what’s to come.

With slow, deliberate movements, you begin to wrap the red thread around your joined hands, your fingers trembling ever so slightly as you secure the bond. The thread feels heavier than it should, its weight symbolic of the promise you’re making to each other.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, letting the words of the spell flow from your lips like a soft melody:

“Thread of fate, bond of soul. Tie us together, make us whole. Heart to heart, spirit to spirit. Forever bound, no end or limit.”

The candles around you flicker, their flames growing taller as the magic begins to take hold. The air feels charged, alive with energy, and you open your eyes to see Hyunjin watching you intently.

“Repeat after me,” you say softly, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

Hyunjin nods, his voice strong and clear as he echoes your words, completing the incantation:

“Thread of fate, bond of soul. Tie us together, make us whole. Heart to heart, spirit to spirit. Forever bound, no end or limit.”

As the final words of the spell fall from his lips, you both feel it—the shift, the connection, the unexplainable pull that tells you the ritual has worked.

You look up at Hyunjin, your hands still bound by the red thread. His gaze is soft, almost reverent, and without thinking, the two of you lean toward each other. Your lips meet in a kiss that feels different from any you’ve shared before. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a vow, a seal, a promise etched into the very fabric of your beings.

When you finally pull back, the red thread glows faintly for a moment before fading into nothing, leaving only the warmth of Hyunjin’s touch and the knowledge that your souls are now—and forever—bound.

For better or for worse, you are his, and he is yours.

-

When the day finally begins, it’s with a shared rhythm. A warm shower where water cascades over tangled limbs, soft laughter echoing off the tiles. Breakfast at the table, the mundane act of eating transformed into something tender in the quiet intimacy you share.

Hyunjin always leaves first, heading home to change before work. You watch him go, knowing you’ll see him soon. True to habit, the two of you arrive at the office at almost the same time.

In the elevator, it’s a delicate dance. The veneer of professionalism must remain intact, yet the shared glances and sly smiles betray the connection between you. There’s a thrill in the secrecy, a spark that makes each stolen moment feel more precious.

As the elevator chimes at Hyunjin’s floor, he steps out, turning to flash you a smile just before the doors close. It’s small, almost imperceptible to anyone else, but to you, it’s everything.

When the elevator resumes its ascent, you find yourself smiling too. But it’s not just the thought of Hyunjin that occupies your mind. As you glance at your hands, you feel it—the power surging beneath your skin, stronger than ever.

The binding ritual didn’t just intertwine your soul with Hyunjin’s. It did something more. It restored what you thought you had lost, your magic power returning with a force you hadn’t expected. The price? Flint’s soul.

You tell yourself it wasn’t intentional, that his death appearing so natural was merely an unforeseen consequence. Yet deep down, you know the truth.

The sacrifice wasn’t accidental. It was necessary.

Now, you’re more powerful than ever. Hyunjin doesn’t know, and perhaps he doesn’t need to. What matters is that your soul is bound to his, and with your magic restored, you can ensure it stays that way.

You clench your hands into fists, feeling the hum of energy within. For the first time in a long time, you’re not afraid. Not of Flint, not of losing Hyunjin, not of anything.

This is your world now. And you’ll do whatever it takes to protect it.

“With fire in my veins and steel in my spine. Today the world bends, and all power is mine.”

-

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[anyaeras]

Wrapped || A.Harkness

Pairing : Dom!Agatha x Innocent!sub reader

Summary : over working yourself is no good, now Agatha pulls you away from studying the traditional way so that she can help you learn something in a less traditional setting.

Warnings : Dom!Agatha ,, Sub!afabReader ,, they/them pronouns mostly ,, slight!mommy kink ,, rope ,, bondage ,, sex toys ,, vibrator ,, strap!on sex ,, impact play ,, pussy!spanking ,, loads of Pet names ,, established relationship ,, enhanced!strap ,, potions/drugging ,, dumbafication ,, innocent play ,, degrading ,, praising ,, teacher x student

Masterlist @anyaeras

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Y/n was a young witch, they had realized her gift, not too long ago and was in need for a teacher, someone to guide them through the knowledge of witchcraft learning the control and elegance of their powers.

After i'm doing quite a bit of research and searching, they ended up at Agatha's doorstep and shockingly, one of the greatest witches had taken them in as their apprentice.

Time went by and the younger witch started to become extremely close to her mentor, the ones teacher student relationship had now expanded to a less platonic relationship.

"Y/n, did you finish that reading on potions I asked you to do?" Agatha's voice called from down the hall, y/n was sat in the office reading just as she was told.

"Almost Miss" y/n called back trying to focus yet the young witch was cramming in so much information while also continuously getting distracted.

Agatha footsteps could be heard as she made her way upstairs to the office, the Burnette, which stopped in the door way, taking in the site of her little apprentice. Agatha would notice how they seemed distracted, struggling to focus on their work, overstimulated falling behind their normal routine, she was aware y/n often would go to long without breaks stressing themself out which seems to be the case.

Agatha finally moved closer to y/n, closing the old textbook and taking it to place it on a desk nearby.

"Let's go dear" Agatha spoke her hand reaching out for y/n's deciding they were done for the day.

"But I'm not-" y/n tried to argue but was cut off by Agatha's sharp hush.

Agatha pulled y/n into her master bedroom, the room elegantly decorated, a bag was sitting on the bed, to which Agatha had walked over to grab.

"I got you a gift while I was out, try it on for me?" Agatha asked softly her voice almost above y/n, as she carried herself with such a strong demeanor.

"Of course!" Y/n said in response innocent as ever, going into the in-suite bathroom to change, what was shocking was how little the garment covered, the pristine white lace looked so lovely on y/n's skin, elegant designs covered both of her breast while a more thin see-through pattern left ruffles on the edges. The bottom of the set was matching with white lace, it was soft on y/n's body but left little to the imagination, the back had ruffles at the end which made y/n smile as Agatha clearly put thought behind this gift.

Walking out y/n stood in Agatha's gaze, the witch had the same old cheeky grin on her face looking at y/n's body.

"You're just adorable!" Agatha cooed making y/n's face blushing a bright scarlet tone.

"Come here my little lamb" Agatha beckoned using her index finger curling it in motion to bring y/n to her.

Y/n obliged as they moved over to were Agatha sat in an elegant dark wooded chair with dark fabric in the centers. A chest which often remained clothes was open next to Agatha which pipe y/n's interest.

Agatha smirked and brought y/n over to the chest, and gently pushed her to look down into the mysterious box.

"This is for a little game I want to play with you, dear."

She began taking ropes of various colours out of the chest, and held them in one hand.

"Do you trust me,little lamb?" She asked, looking into y/n's eyes.

Waiting for y/n to give some sort of confirmation that they trusted Agatha enough for her to continue. After the witch put some purple rope in y/n's hand. "Do you know how to tie a harness, dear?" Agatha asked as her face had a cheeky smirk plastered on it.

"No this is new" Y/n replied as they watched Agatha get more excited, looking over their body as Agatha had left them standing in just the pretty lingerie set.

"That is quite alright, my lamb. I will teach you." The dark hard witch replied cooing softly at her subs innocents.

She began to slowly put ropes around y/n's frame, making a rope chest harness. First, she went around the outside of her under-bust, then between her legs, coming out the front and looping at the back again between her legs. She tied it off, then gently held y/n up to look at the mirror

"Look, my pretty little lamb, do you like it?" Agatha asked her voice silky as she admired her work.

With a nod y/n as well admired the cozy and artistic work Agatha had left tied to their body.

Agatha smiled, and gently turned y/n around so they would look up at her.

"So pretty, and such a good little lamb." Agatha praised her voicing cooing followed by her laugh. The witch ran her lengthy fingers through y/n's hair a sinister smirk looking down at y/n's wrapped up as purple decorated their body still.

"Tell me my dear, are you ready to play?" Agatha smirked leading the bound girl to lay down on the bed.

"Such a pretty little thing but, this lace is just in my way" Agatha purred using her magic to remove the garment from y/n's body leaving y/n wearing nothing except the purple harness which wrapped around their body still, accentuating her tits and ass so nicely with the way Agatha tied it. Agatha watched as y/n's face grew darker as Agatha's eyes scanned over their body, her hands tracing with one finger the lines of the rope.

"Now, let's play, except this game will be very educational let's see how much you actually paid attention to that chapter you were to read" Agatha smirked cruel as she knew she didn't let y/n even finish reading it.

"You'll be rewarded for your correct answers, but make one mistake and you'll be punished my little lamb" Agatha spoke with a fake pout, she went back over to her chest grabbing out some other toys. Agatha's magic produce the textbook floating above both of them, so Agatha could read off of it.

"What's the scientific name for a potion witch and or maker?" Agatha asked starting off easy, turning on a vibrator as she placed in on y/n's clit, using some of the extra rope to tie it into place while she kept reading from the book. Y/n's breathing started to hiccup before turning heavier from the pressure on her most sensitive spot.

"Umm an alchemist!" Y/n managed to get out the vibration continued as Agatha smiled at y/n's answer.

"Good girl" Agatha praised as she continued to quiz the squirming girl below her.

"Now what is the most common ingredient in potions?" Agatha quizzed again once more the girl thought for a moment her brain a little gone from the low vibrations Agatha had pressed onto her puffy clit.

"Areca nut! I swear that's it mommy" y/n moaned out as she bucked her hips trying to get more.

"Wow aren't you so smart how about we try a harder one, get this one right and you can cum dear" Agatha spoke yet the look on the women's face as she flipped the pages made y/n shiver.

"What's the most powerful love and lust inducing potion" Agatha asked with a fake serious expression. Y/n's face fell as they struggled to figure out what the answer was.

"Aww and to think you were my best student, but look at you bent over at my will? You can't even tell me the name of a simple potion little lamb" Agatha degraded y/n making the younger witch whine just wanting to be played with by Agatha.

With the wave of Agatha's hand the book disappeared, and a small potion appeared. Agatha untied the vibrator turning it off and setting it to the side giving a fake sympathy pout to y/n when they whined at the actions.

Agatha lifted y/n's head softly using her thumb to push past the subs lips, forcing them to open their mouth, Agatha took this to advantage pouring the potion into them. It seemed within seconds y/n's body was reacting stronger to Agatha's simple touches, all of their senses heightened, lust coursing through all the way to y/n's center.

Agatha's fingers pinched at y/n's nipples watching as the girl squealed in responds.

"Aww so sensitive now. Maybe if you would've paid attention, you would've known that potion and what it does sweetie" Agatha teased as her fingers moved to slip across y/n's cunt, they we're absolutely dripping as a moan fell from their lips due to such a simple touch.

Agatha continue to tease the girl, using her magic to produce a strap between her own legs after she removed her clothing. A vibrator in hand as well.

"Now, you got it wrong so it's time to take your punishment like the dumb little lamb you are" Agatha muttered as she started to stroke the enchanted strap which sat between her own legs. The size alone was larger than what y/n was used to making them a little nervous.

"I know you can take it for me dear, don't worry" Agatha cooed lining herself up before starting to inch inside of y/n's greedy cunt.

" it's too big mommy" y/n wined but was quickly shut down.

"No baby you're just being dumb it's not to big you can handle it" Agatha said as she held the vibrator on y/n's clit to ease them a bit while pushing the fake cock fully into their hole.

"God you're so tight" Agatha said with her breathing heavy, feeling the way their subs pussy clenched around her length. Agatha only took a moment before starting to move rutting into y/n's body the vibrator pushing harsh down on y/n's clit making them let out such a high pitched moan almost squealing as their legs shook around Agatha. The Domme was well aware of when her little sub was close and right as y/n was about to go over the edge everything stopped.

"Tsk tsk tsk, little lamb didn't even think to ask mommy if you could cum, first you don't know the answer, then you try and cum without permission?" Agatha teased y/n knowing her brain was off and the potion that she gave her made her 10 times more sensitive.

"Mommy Im sorry please don't stop I'll be good" y/n begged only to receive a shaken head in response.

"I think you know better, looks like mommy will have to punish you baby" Agatha laughed at her needy sub grabbing more rope, y/n's arms and chest have long been bound yet now Agatha was tying her legs open to the bed frame.

"This needy cunt seems to keep getting you in so much trouble it's like it controls your brain" Agatha teased as she grabbed a riding crop. That action alone made y/n start squirming and whining out a strain of apologies, yet Agatha wasn't giving in in it.

"Take your punishment like a good girl" Agatha muttered out before ordering before a sharp slap from the crop landed on y/n's cunt. The lewd sounds that came from y/n made Agatha feel all hot and bothered herself. The woman continues until she at least got to 15 slaps deciding y/n's little cunt had enough of the abuse. Y/n's face had tear marks as their body was so sensitive and their clit was throbbing between their folds.

"Aww look at you little lamb you just wanna cum don't you?" Agatha cooed as y/n nodded the needy little thing was so desperate.

"You took your punishment so well I guess I think I can reward you finally for all your hard work" Agatha teased her hand cupping y/n's face as she spoke down to them keeping up with the consistent degrading and praises.

"Please fuck me use me mommy I'll learn I promise" y/n knew how to get Agatha going and it worked, the women lined back up in a swift thrust shoving her cock deep into y/n's hole, not giving them anytime to adjust before pulling all the way out then ramming back in.

"Fuck come on baby let go for me" Agatha spoke trusting harshly as she rubbed y/n's abused clit with her free hand pulling them both to the edge, y/n's moans grew louder, her legs shook and her body shook as they struggled to hold themself together until Agatha finally let them cum.

Y/n came her jaw dropping open and eyes rolling back from finally being able to release all her pent up energy. While Agatha did the same cumming inside of y/n, making their orgasm even more violent.

After they both came down Agatha finally pulled out, smiling down at her fucked out witch.

Removing the toys from the bed and her body before putting it back in her chest. Agatha put on a quick t-shirt before going back to y/n, as y/n calmed down Agatha started to untie the purple ropes which still wrapped around y/n's body.

"You did so so good little lamb, so good" Agatha praised softly as she fully untied the subs body, before finishing cleaning up, helping them dress as well in on of her big t-shirts.

"What do you need from me?" Agatha asked as she brushed some of y/n's hair out of their face. Y/n replied by just cuddling into Agatha.

For now that was enough, Agatha held y/n for as long at they needed, wrapped up in each other.

[kaciebello]

Don’t shoot the messenger

Slytherin boys x Hufflepuff!reader (use of she/her, no use of y/n) Masterlist Delivery Express ✿ Summary: The reader sees an opportunity to run an untapped market in Hogwarts and makes her first delivery. warnings: mention of alcohol and cigarettes, nothing else really Authors note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I wanna spread this into a one-shot series. Proofread by me and me only :( • Next part: Delivery fees Word count: 1352

Notes to deliver - 1

The Slytherin bedroom is filled with the usual chatter. Two boys arguing about quidditch tactics over a cigarette, some have given up and just stared at a ceiling while nursing a glass of fire whiskey. You can hear someone's father being mentioned in almost every other sentence. Nothing magical was happening if you omit this being a school of witchcraft and wizardry.

Suddenly, the door busts as if being kicked open. Revealing, to the boys, an unknown girl wearing a green uniform they are all familiar with, her cloak being absend. Her hair is neatly in a braid tied with a bow. All chatter stops and their attention is on her. She, however, paid no mind to anyone in the room and kept looking into her notepad as if nothing happened. Taking a few steps into the room and closing the door was only an interaction with her surroundings.

Nobody says a word for what feels like an hour. “ Who are you?” a voice recognizable as Draco Malfoy spoke. Snaping her head from her notebook she finally scans the room. As if searching for something. An offended scoff is heard from the boy as his question is left without an answer.

“ Sunshine? What are you doing here?” Lorenzo asks as he sits up. Her eyes snap to him the second she hears his voice. A sweet smile spreads on her face and her eyes create moon crescents.

“ There you are! I have a note for you.” She says and takes a few steps to his sitting figure.

His friends, still confused by what is this mystery girl doing in their bedroom, could do nothing but stare as she moved across the room with ease. But she seems to pay no attention to anybody but her friend. Passing the neatly folded note to Lorenzo, she sits down and crosses something in her notebook humming happily before turning back to him with the same sweet smile. The boy in question studies the note and opens it to read it. His eyes widen and his ears go red. He turns to the girl in shock. 

“ YOU GAVE ME A LOVE NOTE???” He yells and the second those words leave his mouth all his friends surround the pair like hungry hyenas. Her smile drops and her eyes widen to the point some would think is impossible.

“ Eh? Is that what that is??” She goes to snatch the note from him, which proves to be an easy task as Lorenzo is frozen in the spot. Before she could read the note herself, however, it was too snatched from her hand by Theodore Nott and passed around his friend group.

With a frown on her face, she turns to her friend, “ I, didn't give you anything, someone gave you a love note, I just delivered it.” She said making sure to emphasize mentioning her person in the sentence.

“ So this is not from you? Because that sure sounds like an excuse, lame one at that,” says Mattheo Riddle as he waves the note in front of her face. She swats his hand away like it's a fly and he passes the note to Blasie Zabini who has yet to read it.

“No, I had no idea it was a love note,” she argues back and places her hand on Lorenzo's shoulder. “ I love you, but not like that.”

“ Are you sure? because-”

“yes.”

“no, like, if you do-”

“no”

“ Maybe we can work-”

“ I would rather jump from the astronomy tower.”

“Ouch,” he said and she just patted him on the back with fake sympathy. The note was passed back to him and he finally had the chance to look at it again. All of his friends return to studying the girl sitting on the bed.  A minute of silence is broken when Blasie speaks up. 

“ Are you, not the Hufflepuff girl sitting next to Enzo in Charms?” Looking up and smiling.

 “Why, yes I am.” she proudly announces to the room. The shock and mumbles did not phase her as her friend got her attention.

“ So who gave you this note?” Lorenzo asks seemingly coming out of his trance from just receiving a love confession.

“ I don't know, some girl gave it to me and asked me to give it to you.”  She shrugs and targets the candy bag in Draco's arms, taking a handful without the boy noticing and popping a few chocolate pieces in her mouth. “ and you just did it?” 

“For 5 galleons.” He looks at her in disbelief. 

“ You sold our friendship for galleons?” he asks not believing he's worth a pocket change.

 “ She promised another 5 if I got her an answer.”

“oh my god.”  He throws his head back and stares at the ceiling for a second as the girl next gives him a confused look.

“ what? I didn't know it was a love note. Besides-”

“ How did you get in here?” Draco cutes her as he notices her hand sneaking into his bag of candy this time, snatching it away.  The two friends turn to the group of boys standing around them.

  “ I do you one better, whose uniform is that?” Mattheo asks pointing out the obvious Slytherin uniform on the Hufflepuff girl. Her eyes narrowed, not enjoying being interrogated. As she was about to answer Lorenzo was just a second faster.

“ Her own you moron, it's a color-changing charm. Good job on that by the way.” He says, getting up from the bed and breaking the circle his friends formed around them. The girl gets up and follows him to his desk.

“ That does not answer how she got here.” chimes in Theodor. Leaning on the desk she turns to them and crosses her arms.

“I'm a Hufflepuff, we have our ways. It is not that hard to find all the secret passages.” She says nonchalantly. Next to her, Lorenzo is hunched down and scribbling something on a piece of paper. Before any more questions can be said he shoots up with a little ‘aha’ leaving him.  Taking the girl’s hand and turning it, he slaps a little note folded in half in her palm. Then he fishes up what seems to be 10 galleons from his pocket and adds that as well.

“Now sunshine, please don't ever bring me love notes ever again,” he said and started to usher the girl out of the bedroom. She gets up from her spot and walks to the door not that much bothered by her friend kicking her out.

“ What if it normal note? Can I bring that?”

“ no.” He answers as soon as he hears the first question. ‘You're no fun ‘ can be heard faintly as she says it under her nose. Opening the door she previously so elegantly kicked open, she turns to his friends one last time.

“None of you want to send a note? It will cost you only 5 galleons.”All of them shake their head not wanting to use the girls' service. She gives them a few more seconds before she takes our step outside of the door.

“ Wait, sunshine,” Lorenzo stops her with a sheepish smile on his face Wordlessly she raises an eyebrow at him.

“ Next time don't forget to change the colour of your bow.” he says and motions to the bow keeping her braid together. She looks down and sees it proudly shining the yellow colour of her house. She just chuckles and without other words, she steps out of the room and closes the door behind her. 

The room falls silent for a minute before erupting into a bickering over what happened.

Notes to deliver - 0 

[d-z20]

A Lesson in Witchcraft (NSFW)

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x Reader

Summary: You're studying under the most powerful divination witch on the continent—Lilia Calderu. What began as mentorship soon became something far more personal. But knowledge comes at a cost, and under Lilia’s guiding hand, you’re about to learn your most unforgettable lesson yet.

- OR -

Her methods of teaching you to concentrate on tarot turn out to be far more distracting and she ends up fucking you. Like a lot.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, top Lilia, hints of dom Lilia, plot gets abandoned for porn pretty quick, smidge of soft aftercare, R receives: praise, magic strap, breeding, overstimulation, fingering, oral, I think that's it but I could be wrong

Words: 3.2k

A/N: No body means no death 😤😤 requested fic

AO3 | Masterlist

The villa smelt of aged parchment and burning candles, a mixture that clung to the tapestries and books stacked in precarious piles around the room. The candlelight flickered, casting long shadows against the stone walls, as if whispering ancient secrets to those who knew how to listen. This was Lilia’s domain, her sanctuary, steeped in the echoes of centuries past.

In the moment she had thought would be her last, she had fallen—not onto the waiting swords and to certain death, but into the familiar embrace of her old coven’s residence in Sicily. It was then that she made a choice: no more running, no more denial. She would embrace her truth, her power. And in time, the world would know her name as the greatest divination witch on the continent.

And now, years later, you had sought her out. Desperate. Needing to understand the secrets only she could reveal.

“Tell me,” Lilia said, her voice rich and laced with amusement. “What do you see?”

You exhaled slowly, hands hovering over the tarot spread before you, trying to quiet the thrum of your pulse. The cards blurred under the weight of her gaze. You swallowed hard.

“Concentrate,” she chided, shifting in her seat. The movement was subtle but deliberate, the rustle of her robe revealing the barest glimpse of her thigh. “A divination witch must anticipate what’s to come.”

You bit your lip. You knew what she was doing. Lilia was testing more than just your magical ability—she was testing your control. She always did.

A shiver ran down your spine as she leaned forward, her fingers ghosting over yours. “If you were truly gifted, you’d know what I intend to do next,” she whispered, her breath warm against your ear.

You clenched your fists, struggling to maintain focus. The air crackled with energy as Lilia traced patterns over your wrist, slow, deliberate. No magic bound you, and yet you could not move, rooted to the spot by nothing more than her.

The first touch was gentle—a brush of fingertips down your spine, a shift in the atmosphere that sent heat pooling in your core. Then came the control. Lilia’s presence pressing down on you like a weight, her will wrapping around you tighter than any spell ever could.

She started slow, dragging out each movement, each whisper against your skin. Every time you thought you had a moment to recover, she pushed you further.

Your arousal grew with each teasing touch and lingering glance. Heat curled in your stomach, spreading through your limbs like liquid fire. Your thighs clenched instinctively, already aching, already too aware of the way Lilia toyed with you—keeping you on edge without ever giving you what you so desperately needed. The anticipation itself was maddening, your body betraying you with every sharp inhale, every unconscious tilt of your hips seeking friction that wasn’t there.

"You should have foreseen this," she mused, her voice still poised, still so effortlessly composed. "A good witch always prepares."

Your breath had started to come in ragged gasps, your body trembling under her calculated pace. The tarot cards around you fluttered as if caught in an unseen breeze, the room thick with the scent of magic and something far more intoxicating.

Every nerve in your body felt alight, and your skin was hypersensitive to her every movement. The way her fingers ghosted along your collarbone sent shivers down your spine, the barest press of her nails against your thigh making your breath stutter. It was unbearable—this slow, torturous buildup. Every brush of her lips, every teasing stroke across your burning skin only made the ache between your legs more unbearable, the slickness pooling there undeniable.

Lilia smirked as she traced a lazy circle against the inside of your wrist, watching the way you twitched under her touch. "So responsive," she purred, more to herself than you. "You're practically trembling already."

She finally pulled away, leaving you breathless, your skin flushed with lingering heat. But she was far from finished. Reclining back into her chair, she extended a hand, beckoning you forward with nothing more than a commanding gaze.

"Come," she instructed, voice silk and steel. "Show me how much you've learnt."

Your legs barely held steady as you obeyed, every step reminding you just how wet you were. The evidence of your need slicked the insides of your thighs; the cool air against your heated skin only amplified the ache. The anticipation coiled tight in your stomach; the knowledge that she was watching your every movement made the fire in your veins burn even hotter.

It was only when you reached her that you saw it—her enchanted strap, shimmering faintly with magic, resting against her thigh. Lilia’s ringed fingers traced over the length of it, slow and deliberate, her nails raking just enough to make her shudder. A quiet, pleased sigh slipped past her lips, and for the briefest moment, she bit down on her lower lip, savouring the sensation.

You knew she could feel everything. Every stroke, every touch—it all translated back to her. The way her breathing hitched only made the ache between your legs worse; need coiling so tightly in your stomach it was almost unbearable.

Lilia’s dark eyes flickered up to meet yours, knowing and hungry. She gripped your waist as she guided you onto her lap, the heat of her body seeping into yours, her nails pressing into your skin just enough to keep you grounded. “Come now,” she purred. “I can already tell you’re ready for me.”

"Slowly," she murmured, hands firm yet coaxing as she helped you lower yourself onto her. The moment you sank down, a sharp gasp tore from your lips. You were so worked up, so utterly drenched, that the strap was already slick with your arousal, easing the stretch but doing nothing to dull the overwhelming sensation of being filled.

Lilia hummed in satisfaction, her fingers tightening around your waist as she felt the way you trembled in her grasp. "There... take your time," she encouraged, though the dark gleam in her eyes told you she was savouring every second of your struggle to adjust.

The stretch was overwhelming in the best way. Your walls fluttered around the intrusion, your body instinctively trying to draw her in deeper. The magic woven into the strap pulsed faintly, attuned to your every reaction, making the sensation all the more intoxicating. You swore you could feel her twitch inside you, the enchantment allowing her to share in your pleasure.

Lilia's smirk deepened as she watched you shudder, her grip firm as she guided you further onto her lap. "So eager," her voice was silk and steel. "And so very, very wet."

She didn’t rush you. She simply watched, her eyes half-lidded, absorbing every twitch, every soft gasp you couldn’t suppress. And when you were fully seated, she hummed in satisfaction, tightening her hold on your hips.

“Good,” she praised, her grip shifting as she guided you into motion. “Now, let’s see if you can keep up.”

You barely had a chance to adjust before she took control, lifting and lowering you with practiced ease. Each movement sent sparks through your entire body, pleasure mounting too quickly, too intensely. Your nails dug into her shoulders as she pushed you further, refusing to let you slow.

“Tell me, young one,” she purred, lips ghosting against your throat, “can you divine how many times I intend to make you cum?”

You couldn’t answer. Words failing you as the pleasure built impossibly high, your body surrendering to her guidance. She only chuckled, her grip tightening as she thrust up to meet you, pulling strangled moans from your lips.

Lilia was relentless. She drove you to the edge of an orgasm over and over, her name slipping from your tongue like a prayer. And when she finally allowed you to cum, it was nothing short of ruinous.

She held you close as the aftershocks wracked your body, her fingers tracing idle patterns over your sweat-slicked skin. But she wasn’t finished. Not yet.

She rolled her hips once more, drawing a sharp gasp from you. “We’re not done,” she reminded you, her voice wicked and indulgent. “You can take more.”

Lilia's words seeped into your blissed-out mind, thick with promise. Your body was already trembling; every inch of you hypersensitive to her touch, but she wasn’t offering mercy. She wanted more.

"Up," she instructed, voice velvet-dark, her hands guiding you as if you were no more than a doll in her grasp. Your legs barely cooperated as you lifted yourself off her lap, the motion making you shudder at just how wet you were and how slick the strap had become from your cum. Your thighs trembled as you stepped away, but Lilia didn’t let you go far.

"Over the table," she commanded.

You obeyed on instinct, pressing your hands against the ancient wood, the tarot cards scattered beneath your fingertips, their meanings lost in the haze of pleasure clouding your mind. The cool air kissed your heated skin, but it did nothing to soothe the ache.

Lilia took her time. She traced her fingers down your back, teasing over the curve of your ass before dipping lower, spreading your folds with deliberate intent. A sharp breath left you as she dragged her fingers through your slickness, humming in satisfaction.

"So eager," she mused, her tone almost thoughtful. "So sensitive."

You jolted when she shoved two fingers inside; the stretch so easy, so effortless after everything she had already done to you. Your body clenched around her as she thrust them deep, curling just right.

"L-Lilia—"

She hushed you, her other hand pressing against the small of your back, keeping you pinned as she worked you open with measured strokes. Each push sent you spiralling higher, your legs shaking beneath you, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

"You will cum again for me," she purred, her pace quickening, her fingers relentless.

It was impossible to resist. The pleasure slammed into you, violent in its intensity, your body locking up as your next climax tore through you. Your cries filled the dimly lit room, but Lilia wasn’t done.

As your body slumped forward, boneless, she withdrew her fingers, dragging the wetness over your inner thighs, marking you with it. And then, a new pressure—her strap pressing against your entrance once more, still slick with your combined arousal.

"One more," she said, voice dark with promise. "You can give me one more, can't you?"

Your only response was a desperate whimper as she pushed in, stretching you once more, filling you so completely that it sent fresh sparks of overstimulation coursing through your veins.

Lilia chuckled, hands firm on your hips. "Good girl."

Lilia didn’t hesitate. She pulled out and then thrust back in hard, burying herself to the hilt in one swift, punishing movement. The force of it sent you forward, your breath catching in a strangled moan as she filled you.

But this time, she wasn’t just toying with you—she was chasing her own pleasure.

Her grip on your waist tightened as she set a brutal pace, her hips slamming into yours with unrelenting force. Each thrust sent increasingly desperate arousal through you, your body twitching, struggling to keep up with the pleasure that had already wrung you dry.

And then her hand slid lower.

Her fingers—cool, adorned with heavy rings—pressed against swollen clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that made you jerk in her grasp. The sensation was too much, too intense, and yet you keened at the contact, pushing back into her touch.

"Lilia—your rings," you gasped, barely able to form words between the relentless rhythm of her hips and the exquisite pressure of her fingers. "They feel so good."

She chuckled darkly, dragging her fingertips over you with teasing precision. "Do they now?"

The contrast of the metal against your overheated skin sent a shiver through you, amplifying every sensation until you were practically sobbing for relief. Lilia only hummed, stroking you with slow, knowing circles as she pounded into you, her own breath coming in ragged gasps.

"You were made for this," she whispered, her voice tight and controlled, though her rhythm was faltering, growing more erratic.

Then, with a deep, low moan, her hips stilled against yours. She pressed in as deep as she could go, her grip turning bruising as she came inside you, the strap pulsing in tandem with her climax. The sensation had you whimpering, your body locking up at the heat that filled you.

She stayed like that for a moment, catching her breath and letting the pleasure wash over her. But she still wasn’t done.

"On your back," she commanded, her voice thick with satisfaction.

Your limbs felt like liquid, barely able to function, but you obeyed. With a soft gasp, you turned onto your back, legs dangling off the side of the table, tarot cards now forgotten beneath you. The room spun with the force of your own exhaustion, but then Lilia was between your legs again.

She pressed a kiss to your trembling inner thigh before dragging her tongue over your pussy, lapping up the mess she had left behind. The sensation had you arching off the table, your hands grasping at the air for something—anything—to ground you.

"Lilia—" you choked, a sob ripping from your throat as she sucked at your sensitive clit, her tongue flicking against it with ruthless intent.

There was no escaping it. You were already too sensitive, too raw, and the moment her mouth sealed around you, another orgasm crashed over you without warning. Your body tensed, legs trembling violently as you came again, your cries echoing through the room.

But Lilia didn’t let up. She took in every drop, drinking in your pleasure like it was the finest wine, her grip firm on your thighs to keep you still as she worked you through your release.

And then—one last time.

She pulled away, her lips glistening, her eyes dark with hunger as she stood. The strap between her legs twitched with renewed magic, still ready, still insatiable.

"One more, just one more," she insisted, dragging you upright and pulling you flush against her. "I want to feel you shatter for me again."

A breathless, wrecked laugh escaped you. “That’s what you said last time,” you managed to protest, your body still trembling, nerves alight with exhaustion and oversensitivity.

Lilia only smirked, utterly unmoved. She brushed a damp curl away from her face before she turned you over and bent you back down against the table.

“You can give me one more,” she murmured, her voice thick with promise. “I know you can.”

You barely had time to catch your breath before she was inside you once more, filling you to the hilt in one swift motion. A cry tore from your throat at the stretch, the wet slapping sound of your bodies meeting nearly obscene in the quiet of the room.

At first, her thrusts were deep and slow, forcing you to feel every inch of her inside you. But as soon as she felt your body respond—felt the way you clenched down around her despite your protests—her pace shifted to be rough and unforgiving.

Your overstimulated body had no resistance left. The moment she angled her thrusts just right, pleasure speared through you like lightning, raw and all-consuming. Your climax tore through you with a force that left you gasping, clawing at her back, your entire body clenching around her in desperate waves.

Lilia groaned, her grip bruising on your hips as she buried herself deep, chasing her own release. A guttural moan escaped her as she spilled inside you once more, her hips stilling for just a moment as she let the aftershocks wash over her.

She didn’t pull away immediately. She stayed pressed against you, her breath ghosting over your skin, her fingers tracing slow, idle patterns over your trembling thighs.

Lilia's gaze lingered on you for a long moment, amusement dancing in her dark eyes as she traced her fingers along your jaw. Then, with a slight tilt of her head, she gave her next command.

"On your knees," she spoke, her voice thick with satisfaction. "Clean me up properly."

Your limbs were weak, trembling from the relentless pleasure she had wrung from you, but you obeyed without hesitation. Lowering yourself before her, you grasped her thighs for support, your breath ghosting over her strap, now covered with a mix of both of your cum.

Lilia let out a pleased hum as you took the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue over it before sinking down further. The taste was intoxicating, a mix of everything she had given you.

"Just like that," she praised, threading her fingers through your hair, her grip tightening as she guided your movements. "Such a fast learner."

You hollowed your cheeks, taking more, bobbing your head at the pace she set. Her fingers curled at the back of your skull, her hips rolling forward ever so slightly, pushing deeper into your mouth. The strap twitched against your tongue, carrying the echoes of her pleasure.

A sharp inhale and then a moan.

"You're being so good for me," she hummed, her voice unravelling as she thrust just a bit deeper. "Now, swallow every drop."

You barely had time to prepare before she came once more, herf cum spilling onto your tongue, thick and warm. The sensation alone made your core throb with residual need. You swallowed obediently, not letting a single drop go to waste, your throat flexing around her as she let out a shuddering sigh of satisfaction.

Finally, Lilia loosened her grip, her fingers stroking over your hair in silent approval. She helped lift you to your feet, steadying your shaking form before guiding you toward the chaise lounge in the corner of the dimly lit room.

"Rest, young one," she said gently, draping her coat—rich in golden embroidery and worn with the weight of years—over your shoulders. The fabric smelt like her, like incense and old books, like the very essence of magic itself. You melted into its warmth, exhaling softly as she settled beside you.

Her fingers ghosted over your forehead, brushing damp strands of hair away with unexpected tenderness. It was a stark contrast to the way she had just ravaged you, and yet it felt just as intoxicating.

Then, without a word, she reached for the deck of tarot cards still scattered across the nearby table. With practiced ease, she shuffled, then drew a single card, turning it toward you.

The Page of Pentacles.

Lilia’s lips curled into a knowing smile.

"How fitting," she mused, tapping the card lightly. "A symbol of knowledge... of boundless potential. Of someone eager to learn, grow, and carve their own path."

She tilted your chin up, dark eyes locking onto yours with quiet pride.

"And I believe, my dear apprentice, that you will do just that."

-----

My only hope is that Patti LuPone would approve of this fic

-----

taglist: @aceday @danveration @alwaysharmony @idkwhatever580 @lostbutlovely33 @sweetmidnights @6ange19

[moonchild9350]

Spell for Love

Summary: You were given a familiar, Seungmin, long ago to help guide you in your practice as a witch. Seungmin is your everything, both of you being destined to fall for each other. However, fate has other plans as there's chaos when you both break the rules with your love.

Pairing: Familiar Seungmin x Witch gn reader

Genre: fantasy au, thriller, fluff, angst, smut- 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: witchcraft (duh), violence, mention of chronic illness, mention of blood, mention of death, p in v penetration, creampie (dont), multiple rounds, they're in love your honor lol

Notes: Seungmin would make a good familiar hehe. Anyhoo spooktober continues with week 3 and I hope you enjoy this next installment!

If you enjoyed, please consider a like, comment, and reblog as it keeps me motivated ♡

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

“Love is a strange dark magic, where death may only make it stronger, the softest kiss in the wrong direction can stew it away forever.”-Atticus

You have known Seungmin since you were a child, a little witch under the care of your mother and aunts. He was your familiar, a spirit sent to guide you throughout your life as a witch.

He was assigned to you at the measly age of six, at your coming of age as a witch. You remember the day, how it was filled with ceremonies and rituals, sanctifying you as a witch. Both of you received matching signets, a raven, branded onto your skin to show you were bound to each other for eternity.

At first you were a little weary of the boy, his hair always disheveled, his clothes a mess. He was also quiet, taking a while to break out of his shell, while you were full of energy, often bouncing around him talking nonstop.

Seungmin often took refuge in his familiar form, a shaggy black dog, when you were younger which seemed to be more comfortable for him. Despite this, he always was there to guide you and ensure you were on the proper track in your studies.

As you grew, he became your best friend and confidant. If you were in one spot, he wasn’t too far behind. If you got into yet another fight with the other witches at school, he would be the one to break up the fight and then later proceed to comfort you. Seungmin became your foundation through the rockiest points in your life.

However, that was years ago. Now you both were not so little and living in a small town. You had a little cottage in the woods, the one with flowers in the windows and lining the walkway to the door. Your prized garden was out back, filled with flowers and herbs you used for your potions. Smoke billows from the chimney into the night air, the fire casting a warm glow.

If anyone looked through the window, they’d catch a glimpse of a cozy scene, none the wiser to who lived at the little cottage. You chose to stay a little ways from town, as not everyone accepted you and what you were. They’d cast you looks and steer clear of you when passing you in town.

The townsfolk warned their children to never go to the cottage in the woods, lest they want to become the victim of the witches spell. It was all hodgepodge, however, as you and Seungmin were the most down to earth people, staying to yourselves and nice to everyone you met.

---

Today was an important day, one you had been looking forward to. You were summoned for a job, to help cure a sick child within the town. You often offered your services of healing, wanting to help others instead of staying cooped up in your cottage.

However, it has been months since your last summons, as the townsfolk did not want to believe in such "witchcraft." Therefore, when a desperate mother showed up at your door step, pleading for you to help her daughter, you gladly accepted the mother's plea.

So here you were, sliding a dress over your legs, pulling it up around your body, the material fitting perfectly along your slender frame. Seungmin watched from his chair in the corner, his eyes lingering on your curves as you fiddled with the sleeves. He loved your body, slender but plush in all the right places, perfect for his arms to wrap around.

Seungmin loved everything about you. He has ever since he first met you when he was appointed your familiar. He would do just about anything for you, and he means anything. Right about now, that includes fastening the buttons on the back of your dress.

“Thanks Min,” you said with a warm smile, watching as Seungmin fastened your dress, feeling the brush of his fingers through the fabric, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

Seungmin smiled, his lip curling up at your praise. Your grin grew wider as you smoothed your dress down. You turned to face Seungmin, as he stood in front of you, his eyes looking into yours expectedly. You placed your hands on either side of his face and squished his cheeks playfully, a soft whine falling from his mouth in protest. You giggled at the noise, amused at his annoyance at the gesture.

You both stood there for who knows how long, staring into each other’s eyes, the love you have for each other radiating within the small room.

Yes, you love Seungmin. You have for years. He’d do anything for you, he cares for you, more than you can say for most people. You wondered if he loves you back, loves you unconditionally just like you do for him?

You smile one last time, before dropping your arms and walking away.

“Let’s go Min,” you said, grabbing your pouch with the potion that would heal the child.

You both left the cottage and made your way towards town to Marion's house. Marion was the name of the child you were summoned to heal. She had an illness that has been plaguing her for years and wouldn’t go away. The town’s doctors did not know what caused her illness, every form of treatment failing. Over the last fortnight, it has been getting worse, as she’s not even able to get out of bed.

Seungmin watched as you clutched your pouch closer to your body as you hurried down the path. He could tell you were eager, as it’s been a while since you’ve been summoned. He helped you prepare the perfect potion for Marion, one that will heal her if her parent’s followed the proper regimen.

“We need to add Reishi, Comfrey, sage for healing, and a little Hops for sedation,” Seungmin remembered you saying, handing you each ingredient when you asked for them. The aroma wasn’t exactly pleasant, but little work that you both do is so. “This will be perfect for the girl, should heal her in no time!” Seungmin sure hoped so for your sake.

It wasn't long until the town came into view, the buildings looming in the distance as the sun was setting, tucking itself in to rest. The moon was peaking out, slowly showing itself as it's time neared with each passing minute.

You could see people hurrying back home or the local pub for a bite to eat as their day was coming to an end. Seungmin walked closer to you, placing his arm on your back protectively, as he guided you through town.

There was something in the air, an electricity that seemed to dance through the humid air and dance across the skin, causing the hair on his arm to raise. The air felt thick, almost making it difficult to breathe. Seungmin was worried, his eyes darting this way and that, watching the many faces passing by as you got closer to little Marion’s house.

“It’s ok Min. We’ll complete the job and be back home before you know it,” you said, trying to soothe your familiar.

You could tell he was on edge as he ushered you through town. If he was in his familiar form, you're sure the fur on his back would be bristled, his ears perked up for any abnormal sounds.

He had reason to be on edge you thought as you felt it too, something looming around you, ready to pounce in the spur of the moment. You needed this job to go well, not only for Marion's sake but also because were running out of funds, your money jar just about empty back at the cottage.

Arriving at your destination, you both stopped in your tracks, staring at the door. You squeezed Seungmin’s hand in yours before knocking, your knuckles tapping the wood three times. You didn’t have to wait long as Marion’s mother opened the door not a moment later, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She regarded you with slight uncertainty, before stepping back and ushering you in.

You stepped over the threshold, following her silently, through the kitchen, the living area, and to a door. She looked at you once more before turning the knob and opening the door.

You were slightly taken aback, as sweltering heat hit you in the face, the room baking in the summer heat. The air was stale, the smell of yesterdays food and antiseptic permeating the room. The windows were closed and bolted tight, allowing no airflow into the room, other than from the door you stood at now.

You hesitated to walk in, your eyes wide in shock.

“We are at wits end y/n,” Marion’s mother exclaimed, “please help us!”

You regarded the woman in front of you, taking in her pleading, bloodshot eyes. You could tell she was suffering, the responsibility of caring for a sick child taking its tole. You nodded and looked at Seungmin, before making your way to Marion’s bed.

You sat your pouch down and rustled through it, looking for the potion that you and Seungmin had prepared the night before. You hand brushed against something smooth and small before you wrapped your fingers around it, pulling out a vial, the amber liquid within sloshing against the side. Smiling, you stood up and walked closer to Marion.

Looking at the girl, you could tell she was gravely ill, most likely on death’s door. You brushed your hand through her wispy hair, gently singing a soothing song. Marion opened her eyes, the sunken in orbs finding your face. You smiled and uncorked the vial, bringing it to her lips.

You encouraged her to drink with promises of healing, tipping the vial slowly into her mouth. Marion gulped it down as best as she could, her eyes never leaving yours. Once she was done, you discarded the vial and smiled before turning to face her mother.

“She should start to feel better within the week,” you said.

“Thank you! Thank you!” The mother cried, tears streaming down her face at the hope of her child finally being healed.

You nodded and reached out your hand, as the lady placed two silver coins into your palms. You thanked her and made to leave, Seungmin following close behind. You walked with purpose, the promise of a nice dinner for once on your mind, the sound of the two coins clinking together in your pouch.

“We can have anything for dinner tonight Min!” You exclaimed, grabbing his hand. “Let’s stop here at this pub.”

Seungmin agreed, excited at the prospect of eating more than a few potatoes. He followed you into the crowded pub, his eyes roaming over the people gathered there for dinner. He sniffed the air, the aroma of the pub's house stew permeating the air, causing him to salivate and his stomach to growl.

You came across a table in the corner that seemed good as any and so you both sat down, settling in on the old, wooden chairs. Seungmin ordered two bowls of the stew, smiling at the waitress as she placed two mugs of mead in front of you. You sighed in contentment as the golden liquid slid down your throat, settling in your belly, causing you to feel warm from the inside out.

You didn’t have to wait long for your food to arrive, as two piping hot bowls filled with meat and vegetables was placed in front of you. You grabbed your spoon and dug in, filling your belly with the warm stew. You both ate in silence, savoring the taste of the food and listening to the chatter of the other patrons, enjoying the cozy atmosphere.

You both were almost done eating when a guttural scream laced with anguish pierced the night air and traveled into the loud pub. Everyone quieted instantly at the sound, turning their heads to the door to see the source of the disturbance. The door swung open, the wood slamming against the wall, as a woman came running in, the skirt of her dress billowing behind her.

“You killed her!” She screamed over and over, tears streaming down her face as she pointed an accusing finger your way.

You recognized Marion’s mother, your heart dropping at the sight of her. What did she mean that you killed her? You almost fell backwards as she rushed at you, her arms outstretched as if to strangle you, fury mixed with despair plastered on her face.

“You killed her, you…you witch!” She screamed as she tried to claw at your face.

You tried to protect your face from her hands but shrieked as her hands eventually made contact, her sharp nails dragging down your cheek, drawing blood. Seungmin quickly grabbed your arm, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you up from your chair.

"We need to run, come on y/n!" Seungmin said, a sense of urgency in his voice.

You agreed, and started to run behind him, your free hand on your cheek trying to stop the bleeding from your wound. You both made it to the door in no time. Seungmin pushed passed the townsfolk who were trying to block your way to escape, flinging the door open causing the people to scatter.

You both ran down the path, causing dirt to fly everywhere, the dust coating the bottom of your dress. Dodging the people on the path proved easy as they hurried to get out of the way, their eyes widened as you two ran past.

You didn’t slow down, following behind Seungmin as he dragged you along. You were breathing heavy, as your lungs tried to expand with the amount of exertion you were placing on your body. The edge of town was in sight, the expanse of trees taking shape signaling that you were almost home. You didn’t stop running, not even when you arrived at your door.

Seungmin quickly unlocked the door and ushered you in, giving a quick glance down the path before closing the door quickly behind you and sliding the deadbolt in place, effectively locking it.

You sunk to the floor, your body falling into a heap, your hands trembling as you brought them to your face. You wondered where you went wrong, running over the steps of brewing the potion the night before. You went through each step, one by one, tears streaming down your face, but not able to think of one way you could have gone wrong.

You were shaken out of your thoughts by the feel of Seungmin’s warm hands on yours, as he carefully brought them away from your face to grasp them in his.

“Don’t cry, y/n,” he said, pain reflected in his eyes at your distress. “You didn’t do this. That child was close to death by the time we got there.”

You shook your head at his words, trying to believe in them. You looked down at your hands intertwined, watching as his fingers rubbed soothing circles over your knuckles. You were happy that Seungmin was here with you and comforting you.

Seungmin watched your face, pain in his heart as he watched the tears fall from your eyes, painting your beautiful face. His eyes wandered to the scratches on your cheek, blemishing the flesh that is usually flushed with red. He held your hands tighter in his, not wanting to let them go. He felt his heart swell, his love for you ever growing. He had to let you know just how much he cares for you, fearing that your time together is shorter than he would like.

“Y/n,” Seungmin whispered before leaning towards you, his gaze holding yours.

You did not move, frozen in place as you watched Seungmin lean closer and closer to you. You took in his shaggy hair, the tips of the strands lightly touching his eyelashes, almost obscuring his eyes. You gazed into the orbs which were focused on you, as they flicked from your eyes, down to your lips, and back to your eyes again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening, in all your grief from tonight’s events. Time seemed to stop as he hovered right in front of you, his warm breath gently tickling your face. Your breath caught as you felt his soft lips press against yours, the flesh melting into each other with each passing moment. The kiss was wet as your tears continued to stream down your face.

It was suddenly all a flurry of movement as you found yourself on the couch, Seungmin hovering over you as he continued to hurriedly kiss you. It was a moment of passion, your tongue tangling with his, as his hands grasped at your dress, hiking the fabric up and over your waist.

You spread your legs more, so he could slot himself more comfortably between them. There was a flurry of more fabric rustling, as Seungmin tried to remove his pants, his leaking cock springing free from its confines.

You gasped out, as he pushed into you, his cock stretching your little hole, causing you to tremble from both the pleasure and pain. Seungmin did not wait for you to accommodate to the stretch as he began to thrust his hips hard and fast into yours, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. He eyes raked over your face, taking in how your eyes were wide and mouth parted as he coaxed out little “oh, oh, ohs.”

He felt like he was on cloud nine, finally being able to have you, to have his cock buried deep within the woman he has always loved. Seungmin shuddered as he felt you clench around him, your pussy sucking him in, keeping him within the expanse of your warm walls.

You clutched onto his arms, bringing him closer to you to attach his lips to yours. With a few more strokes, you tipped over the edge, the warm feeling spreading throughout your core and body, your arousal dripping steadily, coating Seungmin's cock with your white, sticky arousal. You let out a low moan as you felt Seungmin's cock twitch within you, as he filled you up with his cum, marking you as his.

As you both came down from your highs, Seungmin whispered “I love you,” pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

You grinned and chuckled as you grasped his face repeating “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You both laid there for what felt like forever, clutched in each other's arms, Seungmin's now softened cock still buried within you. The shadows from the fire danced on the walls, as the sun finally laid to rest, the moon finally making it's full appearance.

You couldn't get enough of the man above you, feeling his cock once again harden within you. You longed to feel the beat of his heart against your chest as you pulled him closer, his head buried in the crook of your neck as he slowly rocked into you. Time passes slowly and sweetly, your breath mixing with his moans, as he brought you both closer to yet another orgasm. You came with a sigh and his name on your lips as Seungmin whimpered, releasing his load within you.

You continued to profess your love for each other, whispering sweet nothings in the silence of the cottage until that silence was broken by a series of loud bangs on your door.

You both startled at the noise, panic taking over at what it could mean...or worse who it could be. You thought the townspeople had finally made it to your cottage, ready to take you in. Seungmin quickly got up, fixing his pants as he made his way to the door.

You sat up and straightened your dress, not caring at the sticky substance leaking and coating your thighs, as terror filled you as you watched him walk to the door. As he threw it open, you noticed three people at the door, dressed in what seemed like an official uniform, donned in thick midnight blue coats, the signal of the council of witches pinned to the lapel.

“Seungmin the familiar?” One of the men asked, his tone gruff.

“Yes?” Seungmin responded.

“You are in contempt of the law of the ancients. We have to take you in. Please come with us peacefully."

You sat confused, not understanding what was occurring in front of you. Your mind was churning, trying to remember the law your mother made to instill in you, the content sounding familiar. Your thoughts were interrupted however, as you watched two of the men roughly place Seungmin’s hands behind his back, fastening them together with a spell.

You screamed as they roughly fastened his hands, as they kicked him in the abdomen over and over, pain littering Seungmin's face as he coughed and breathed in, trying to let the air in that was just knocked out.

You screamed ‘What are you doing’ as you tried to go to your familiar, best friend, and lover. The other man who was overseeing it all, stopped you in your tracks, grabbing your wrist before pushing you hard to where you fell backwards and onto the hard floor. You winced at the pain, watching in horror as they continued to beat Seungmin in front of you, torturing him without mercy. You felt useless, unable to help the man you love as you scooted up to watch the horror.

What hurt you the most was when they brought out a contraption, placing it on his skin directly on his signet, signaling that he was your familiar. Pressing a button, a silver laser jetted out, the flash of light striking Seungmin's skin. You watched as Seungmin cried out in pain, the area on his chest dripping blood immediately upon the touch of the laser.

You let out a blood curdling scream, as white, hot pain seared through your body. You felt more tears trickle down your face as you attempted to look at your wrist. The skin where your signet had been was red and raw at the rough removal. Your signet was gone. Seungmin was no longer your familiar.

You screamed in agony at the pain in your heart, but also the physical pain, your eyes never leaving Seungmin’s. You watched in horror as they dragged him away, his feet dragging through the dirt. He left a trail of blood in his wake, his chest still bleeding.

You watched as Seungmin tried to say something, his lips moving, trying to form syllables. At the last moment, you were able to finally make out ‘I love you.’ You let out another sob as they dragged the only man you’ve ever trusted, ever loved, ever given yourself completely to out of your cottage into the street beyond.

You knew nothing good was in store for Seungmin. Your heart somehow knew you would never see him again. You sat in tears, broken and in pain as you tried to wrap your mind around what had just occurred. You didn’t have long to ponder, as another mob was making its way to your door.

The townspeople had gathered, their pitch forks and torches in hand as they screamed insults at you. Your mind slowly shut down as you heard

‘Dirty witch!’ ‘Evil spawn!” ‘Murderer!’

You surrendered completely, broken and in pain, as two townspeople grabbed your arms and dragged you away, down the path, and into town. You surrendered as they threw you in a cell, locking the door and throwing away the key so you could await your judgement.

None of this mattered however. Seungmin was gone from your life and your fate didn’t seem so bright. You laid down on the hard ground, using your hands as a pillow as you once more thought about where you went wrong. Suddenly you remembered the teachings from your mother, her gentle voice reminding you of the law of ancients.

‘Familiars and Witches may never be. If ever a familiar were to break there bonds of servitude by falling in love with a witch and sealing said love, the punishment be removal of being said familiar and ultimately death.’

Your heart ached at the implications, knowing you both broke the law of the witches, sealing your love with your familiar. The tears stained your face, your wails loud as you mourned your actions. You tore at your hair, scratched your arms in anguish.

You knew fate was sealed however, when you felt an odd feeling, like your heart had been cut in two. A stillness passed over you as you sat in the corner of your cell. You felt numb, your only reason for living gone from this world.

You didn’t care as you heard footsteps down the hall. You didn’t care as a man stopped in front of your cell. You didn’t care as he unlocked the door and dragged you away. You didn’t care as you walked into the bright sunlight, the light hurting your eyes. You didn’t care as you noticed the platform in front of you.

You felt your love grow stronger however, as you looked to the sky, the stars numerous and bright. You knew Seungmin was there with you, standing by your side. You knew you would both be together eternally, either on this plane or elsewhere. You smiled, despite what was to come. You felt light on your feet, your soul peaceful and calm.

You’d see him soon.

And in the end that’s all that matters.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @seungfl0wer @velvetmoonlght

[sanakimohara]

[ BOUND BY BLOOD ] - H. H.

master lists <> + CHRISTMAS EVENT: day two (n/a yet)

pairing: Hyunjin x fem! reader

summary: A seductive vampire who has been watching you for centuries finally reveals himself. As Hyunjin pulls you deeper into his world of immortality, the line between love and obsession begins to blur.

date: December 21st 2024

playlist:

warnings: MDNI + NSFW + BLOOD KINK + ORAL + LOTS OF EXPOSITION + MENTIONS OF WITCHCRAFT & PAGAN HOLIDAY + EXTENSIVE PINING

Yule is more than a concession of sacred days ending in immense celebration. You knew of this from a very tender age, of course.

Your mother impressed upon you how vastly more important it was than any other festivity held throughout the year in your small village. A place nestled in the rocky edges of the St. Romanov mountains, just below the everlasting castle at the very top of the harsh scenery. In a dreary land, everyone would be just the same—sulking like the grey, cold clouds that hung high above, even in mid-summer, and bitter like the bark of the evergreen trees and pines occupying the surrounding woods. Many who lived far and near the little ancient plot began to whisper of its strangely happy and content inhabitants centuries before books made of linen and leather were being traded for secrets on the land they lived on.

Some talked of how women resembled eerily beautiful statues on a winter's night. Others told tales of men who never seemed to age past their prime but nearly always perished under terrible circumstances, whether in secret or for all to behold. You were born to a family who pressed truth into these oh-so-beguiled wise tales made up by outsiders. Yet, that was natural within a family littered with witches and warlocks of every kind.

Young and blessed with slow aging and graceful wisdom, your mother and father took it upon themselves to grant you a moderately lavish life within the strangely quaint village. You went without very little, and whatever your kind heart desired was promptly given. Your demure features disarmed many, growing enchanting as you neared the age of two centuries, looking nothing past the age of two bright decades. One might call it luck -especially living in a jagged and whimsical place. But many who lived beyond called it witchcraft at its finest point -the undead's evil doing.

You paid the assumptions no mind. Content with living a life in your studies of the dark arts under the teachings of your nearly pestering and frazzled mother and her less distracted and elated partner -your father. To some extent, he was a patriarch of the town, never fully taking on the title of its Baron and never desiring to when asked. He helped people experiencing poverty, aided people in need, and advised those who did have a hand in village affairs. On the other hand, your mother saw to the population's superstitions and unusual ailments and guarded their shaken resolves with practiced and refined magik. You had undoubtedly become their most prized offering to the masses. A beauty many could behold but could never understand being kept so hidden away at your family estate.

In turn, you were plagued with loneliness that could only be ailed by knowledge of the arts for so long. Years shifted into another half a decade of unbound youth and restrained confidence for you. Thinking of another century in such a state made your heartache and your head spin with sound worry. The terror struck you at family dinner in the dining hall, and you nearly opened your mouth to suggest an alternative to your parents. However, you were halted in a speech by your ever-so-live mother, who'd been unable to stop smiling since you stepped foot into the candlelit room behind your father's usual late arrival.

"I have grand news for you, my dear!" she beamed, and you perked up in your seat in interest. "Mother?...' you cautiously egged her on, sipping from the blackened wine glass set before your plate of half-finished food. She waited to hear you swallow your blackberry wine before glancing at your oddly silent father. "I and your Papa have a gift for you...well, a surprise, to be more specific."

Please, Mother of Darkness, do not let it be another grimoire. I've already filled in four others.

You prayed to the powers that be in a single silent breath, glancing between them as they observed you. "Oh...please do tell me of it. You know how little patience I have for surprises." The sweetest smile crossed your face, pulled tight by subtle anxiety and held there by a need to seem mildly normal about the implications of receiving a new and unknown gift.

Yet, it fell into a quivering line as your mother excitedly spilled her heart out for you to hear.

"We have found you a match, and he is rather eager about it. More than we are if my senses ring true!"

The light wave of shock that gripped you dissipated into relief. A hot flush rushed through d your veins like a flame catching the edge of fresh linen. Any other woman being told of a secure match might feel her heart turned to icey malice, but all you could taste was wild freedom being attained without much fight.

And you couldn't be happier to have it.

Who this match was and why he was so eager to be one with you was another mystery for different times. Now, you wanted a moment to relish in a world to be discovered outside the village you'd known an entire lifetime and mask that joy from the two beings who gave you such power over life as if their announcement hadn't changed a thing in your reeling mind.

With a deep and steadying breath, you replied, "How fortunate. I look forward to beginning our union."

Your mother nodded, sipping wine while your father grumbled a phrase of contentment. She offered you an all-too-tender smile, her bright gaze sparking as you tilted your head in curiosity. "Is there something more you'd like to tell me, Mother?"

She sighed, humming melodically, then set her glass down to speak again, her tone genuinely matter-of-fact.

"You'll be traveling to meet him at his estate within a fortnight."

This wasn't unexpected, yet hearing it aloud stirred a peculiar thrill within you, an undeniable pull toward the unknown that lay waiting.

The fortnight came within a whirlwind of a day. Your belongings were packed and shipped off early at noon, and your father blessed and sealed your treasures an hour before your departure. Your mother sent you off with genuine gifts of goodwill and more excellent fortune, refusing to speak on the mysterious author more than she already had -which only gave you a semblance of a surname from which to paint a picture of him.

Hwang.

It was all you'd know of him until the moon reached its height and your horse-drawn carriage stopped in the gravel walkway in front of his glaringly cold estate. You imagined his features, charm, voice, and sway over those within his power. Sketching his imaginations in a tattered leather-bound grimoire and writing earnest anecdotes of goodwill under each one. You wrote and drew until your hand ached, glad to see the semblance of a large mansion coming into view far across a snow-touched meadow.

The book snapped shut as you refined your focus on the blatantly grand estate. Your mother had called it magnificent when describing where this Hwang hailed from, but she left out the fair detail of how larger-than-life it seemed, with its gardens packed with mere hundreds of people.

A party.

A celebration.

An honoring of Yule.

You had never, ever seen such a large and lavish gathering. Granted, your mother and father never threw one as grand as the one you witnessed now from afar, but the edge of awe was still present as you observed it. People -men, women, the moderately young, and the wise old roamed about.

Some wore masks of gleaming gold, amber, and cherry red. Others wore black veils and cashmere shawls. Everyone in attendance held prestigious looks from afar, dressed in sacred colors starkly contrasting with the pure white snow coating the grounds.

Candles and lanterns were lit to perfection, leaking light into the moonlit night and casting a golden white glow on those who swayed beneath and through them. Shadows danced as many grabbed for waltz partners. A quartet strummed at their instruments and rang their bells into the air. Laughter and speech leaked into the music, piercing the sky.

It was life.

It was passion.

It was beautiful to see.

You ached to join the fun. Think of it constantly, even as the carriage stops at the steps leading straight to the heavy dark oak wood doors carved with the face of Medusa and sealed shut with iron wrought doubles of the letter 'H' leading straight to your new home.

With the help of a kind footman and the relief of a soft gasp, you took tentative steps to the top of the staircase, undeterred by the ice under your heeled boots and the gentle crunch of snow under your every movement. With a step left, the doors creaked open for you, a sudden chill wrapping around you before a steady warmth replaced it. You stopped short, unaffordable of the sudden eeriness, but perplexed to see not a soul standing behind the door.

"Mother of the moon.." you whispered in timid amusement, gazing up at the white sphere gleaming down on your clocked form before allowing its energy to steady your shaken nerves. When your mind could focus again, you bit the inside of your left cheek, slipping into the estate's front doors with a quiet huff, passing by the eyes of Medusa with a solemn smile of thanks.

The doors slammed shut as your feet hit the marble floor inside, loudly clicking its locks with finality as you spared them a final glance before sauntering further into the massive household. The small palace was lit, and not a corner was left cold or void, but not a life in your sight. It seemed as if the tree outside was merely a dreamscape and a phantom of reality within the world you stood in now - a wonderous opener to the spectacle within your suitor's less-than-humble abode. You reached another set of winding staircases. The embroidered carpet gently glistened under an amber-lit chandelier, never seeming to stain your wet footprints and littered with mistletoe, pine, fresh herbs, and trimmed garland. It was neat chaos at its finest, but what took your breath away was the line of blackened roses lining the center. Their thrones were pricked clean off, and their stems meticulously swirled in on themselves and tied off in an alternation of crimson red and deep violet silk ribbons. "How strange..." you thought aloud, pricking one from the warm floor, examining it until its petals were paled compared to the folded letter hidden underneath it.

It simply read in practiced well, done calligraphy,

"My Dearest Love,

The hour is late, and the world outside lies shrouded in slumber, save for me and my kin—ever wakeful, ever longing. I have watched you from the shadows, not with the eyes of a stranger, but with the gaze of a soul tethered to yours by threads spun long before this life. You do not yet know me, but I have known you for an eternity, each passing moment a cruel reminder of my yearning to claim what fate has promised me.

I am writing to you now, my beloved, because our meeting is near. The winter moon will shine brightest on the eve of the year's final breath, casting its silvery veil upon the snow-laden earth. In that sacred hour, I shall come to you. Do not fear the chill in the air or the stillness accompanying my presence. Know that every step I take toward you is born of reverence and an unyielding desire to protect, cherish, and love.

You may wonder why I have chosen you among all others, why I dare to speak of binding our lives together in the sacred vow of marriage. The truth is as eternal as the stars: I did not choose you. Though it beats no longer, my heart has always belonged to you. In your laughter, I hear the echo of joy I have long since forgotten; in your gaze, I see a light that pierces the veil of my darkness. You are the warmth my cold existence craves, the embodiment of all that is pure and eternal.

For centuries, I have wandered through this world, untouched by its beauty and unmoved by its offerings. Yet, the barren void within me stirred from the moment I beheld you, even from afar. My soul cursed as it is, recognized in you its redemption—a love that transcends time, a light strong enough to shatter even the deepest shadows.

I write this letter not to frighten you but to offer you a choice. When we meet, you will see me as I truly am. My nature, my curse—it is not one I would impose upon you without consent. But if your heart, as I suspect, already beats in harmony with mine, I ask for your hand, trust, and love. Together, we will defy the passage of time, weaving a tapestry of eternity that no force can unravel.

Await me on the night of our destined meeting. Do not despair the hour, for it shall mark the beginning of a love that poets and dreamers could only hope to capture. I shall kneel before you, not as a creature of the night, but as a man who has waited lifetimes to call you his own.

Until then, my love, guard your heart, for it is already mine. And know that no force on this earth, nor in the heavens above, could keep me from you.

Yours eternally,

Hyunjin..."

A weight lingered over your shoulders as his name slipped past your lips like pure honey. As if it were planned to happen, and for one explicable reason or another, he had pined for it to be that way on this very night. You pieced things together in the moment it took you to realize them. Every night since your 118th risi, you'd felt a presence -not nearly a calling- but something tethered to your existence. Had that been him for all these years? Watching over you in the smallest of moments. Moving when you moved. Listening when you spoke. Caring when it seemed no one else could. Being there when you felt further trapped in an unintentional isolation.

Were the sharp and bloodborne eyes trailing every move in glimpses of mirrors.?Was he the lurking shadow hovering above your own in the light of a single candle? Was he the one leaving gifts of your desire at the foot of your bed? Each one left with no note or card of recognition but instead wrapped neatly and meant for you to find and enjoy. Wasthee soft chill of breath you felt through the coldest nights? Twinged with a peculiar warmth and steadily streaming against the crook of your neck and behind the shell of your ear.

You thought of the possibilities, fueled by a deep curiosity and security, as you followed the trail of roses left along the ststastaircathrough staircase-through rooTandyandy stopped at a particular door on the second floor, previously leading through the tre right-wing amenities before the abr.aWithhith one big push of both your hands, you revealed what lay within the last unlocked room.

A man, dressed in fine clothing with a more captivating charmed beauty to match, stood before you in a moment of tensed admiration.

He seemed to hold in a breath, lips pressed into a slow-growing smile of recognition as his eyes scanned you in familiarity. Your heart thumped twice its normal speed as he did, and your feet shifted closer to each other as his gaze halted on your flushing face. "He-Hello..." you muttered, unsure what else to say and completely startled to see another person standing in the emptied estate.

Hyunjin did not hold your lack of recognition and frazzled greeting against you; he accepted them. I expect much worse, and he was glad those assumptions did not come to fruition upon your timely arrival.

He found the words to speak and the will to be heard when you took a half-nervous step back, shuffling closer to the doorway in a plain attempt to close it shut if prompted to. "You're quite alright. I've been waiting for you for some time now, so I would like you to stay even if it's for a moment..."

The cadence of his words and the gentle tone of his voice sounded the same as the whisper within your most common dreams. It was healing, charming, sweet, and meant to cause delirium to anyone who heard it without warning. You unconsciously paired it with the letter you'd found. Gripping it in your right hands, your mind collected subtle connections.

This had to be him.

Your allusive and eager suitor?...

"Hwang...Hyunjin..."

"That is my full name, yes..." he jested a bit, treading carefully through your observation of him. However, when your stare found him again, you seemed neither displeased nor perplexed.

"Are you to be my match, then? " you asked, hoping his answer would satisfy your growing uncertainties.

He nodded, nibbling at his lush bottom lip for a split second of tension relief. Then, you noticed his edged canines glinting in the soft light filling the room. Your heart jumped, but your breath slowed at the minuscule sight.

You'd gotten yourself a walking undead of your own, it seems.

Hyunjin's quick eyes caught yours wondering towards his mouth, fixated on the slip-upphe'ddd ma unconsciously but nowhere near frightened or frazzled by the reveal. It eased his rare nerves and allowed him to speak more freely as you inched further into the room to get a closer look at him. "I know stepping into this new life may be very odd to you now, but as I explained in the letter-"

"I've read it twice since my arrival..." you confess in one uttered breath, unable to keep smiling softly at him, "You're a lovely admirer and a gifted writer by all means..." You paused, unsure what to call him and afraid you'd begun to ramble, seeing his head lower at your words. However, Hyunjin flashed a charmed grin your way after half a moment. His pale cheeks flushed a tinge of rouge you thought was a trick of the light. How could someone so confident in their presence be so easily flustered? The answer was beyond you, but it was a question you cherished watching him watch you from across the room.

His smile fell to a slight smirk, eyes cutting to the side for a moment before he spoke again, "You are one charming doll... do you know that?" He chuckled, and you shrugged, eyeing him as he wandered closer with steady strides. "I've been told otherwise..." you confess in a whisper, accepting bated breath as he flows above the top of your head.

A pull surged in your chest, urging you forward into his immobile warmth and drawing your head up at an angle so his face remained inches from your own. Hyunjin stared back, eyes downcast in jaded concern as you hid a coy smile. "Wel, my love, they don't know you as I do."

He spoke of your intentional grace and earned your trust. He is unafraid to let you witness the flicker of vulnerability behind his maroon irises.

It was then that you knew what he thought of you, how he felt, with only your eyes to capture him.

A life to live in the eternity he found himself in.

One year came and went in the Hwang estate; in that time, you'd grown to love hearing that surname replace your own. Hyunjin was far more than a dashing husband and far better than any other living man you had encounteredHisis obsession with you was infinite and dedicated. It showed in every little thing he did for you and was present in every intimate interaction you had with him - even if he took each one no further than a heated kiss and a passing touch of his cold hands over your warmer flesh.

There were times it drove you mad.

His withholding of passion in fear of harming you during such acts was maddening, to say the very least. Sleeping with him had begun to be the only thing you could think of. You are noo longer able to keep such thoughts within the confines of your still-separated rooms during the dead of night and are frazzled by the visceral need to feel him take you.

He knew of your struggles but never acknowledged them. Hell-bent on sticking to his version of affection for as long as possible and undeterred by your subtle begging far longer than you had expected him to be.

That is until the very night you met him came around again.

Sweat shined your skin from the heat of the broiling water you sank into only moments ago. Herbs, spices sprinkled, and citrus shreds floated to the top of the scented bath. It was a relief to feel each component working into your tired body and slowly bringing life back into it as moments of solace trickled into a calm, quiet passage.

Finally, you could rest and not answer another question about decorations, food to serve partygoers of the evening, or what musical set to be played throughout the night. Taking on the task of planning for the Hwang household Yule was tedious and meticulous. Every detail was meant to be perfect, just as you had seen upon your arrival a year prior, but against Hyunjin's well-meant wishes, you took on the assignment with vigor for perfection.

It was overwhelming in all aspects, but you'd done it to the best of your ability, and now you wanted nothing more than to relax before the celebration began. The guests slowly showed themselves.

Your eyelids lowered, fully closing as the hot water sank deeper into your skin—the smell of fresfragranceses swept under your nose in gentle wafts. For a while,nt the world went utterly sti, ll, and you could hear the wind and snow softly blowing outside; your lonely peace was dissolved as a tender kiss was placed at the of your head by familiar lips.

"My love..." Hyunjin greeted you humbly, and you returned the sentiment by peeking your eyes at him. "My prince..."

He smiled at the neverending nickname you'd decided long ago to give him. You held his lingering gaze, tracing the lift of his lips as he leaned in to place a meaningful kiss against your lips. Your hands floated from the water, gently cupping his face as his lips pressed into yours. They were tinted with red wine and the lingering taste of iron blood, but you paid the bitterness no mind, delving for something more profound as he trailed a hand through your damp hair and brushed back the strands sticking to your flushed cheeks.

A fire stirred in your stomach, spiraling as the swipe of his tongue over your own melted the taste of him into your senses. Hyunjin pressed to shift backward, understanding the intensity of your exchange, but had no room to do so as your freshly manicured nails gently dug into the skin of his unblemished face. He stayed still, falling into a pattern of returning slow and wet kisses with you in the quiet of the large washroom. You hummed at his intentional sweetness to please you, smiling as he tilted your head back to rest on his thigh, your right hand cupping your chin firmly as his left raked through your hair and massaged the roots at your scalp. A trickle of drool seeped past your lips, tainted with blood a moment later, as he bit down on your inner lower lip with the tip of a fang. You whined softly as the sudden and short infliction of pain pleasured that he took joy in marking you in such a discreet place and was not timid about savoring the reward of your blood on his tongue, but the mix of elation didn't last long. Hyunjin snapped away from your lips, pressing loving kisses to them as you frowned and whimpered from the loss of connection. "Please do not torture me..." you huffed, legs closing instinctively to put pressure on the throbbing heat between them.

“Don’t…do this to me, “ you repeat yourself, stirring into a fever as his touch on your jaw slid to cup and caress the side of your face as if to lull you back to sanity.

He failed, a rare thing to happen, but something he couldn’t help as you stared up at him with the most unforgiving and pleading stare. “Please…” you utter to him, bottom lip catching between your teeth as his eyes settle across your body in a languid dance. His gaze stops at your chest -barely hidden in the cream-filled water, and you’re tempted to slip out of the bath and let him have a full view if it’ll coax him to give what you so desperately want from him.

Hyunjin needs no further persuasion than a flicker of sadness and disappointment in your eyes. You’re prepared to handle your growing frustration of heat alone and hope it will be done by the time guests arrive, but a simple phrase from him shatters your ideas of doing so.

“You’ve waited long and well enough.”

The sound of praise in his tone has you turning in the water to face him like an excited mutt being given a treat. Your smile returns, and your hands fall to rest on his thigh. “You won’t back down from me?…” You ask out of fear he will, knowing his quick change of mind could be fickle and turned again if you weren’t careful with your intent. Hyunjin stifled a chuckle, unbothered by your eagerness and thrilled to see you smiling at him brightly again.

That generous lift of your lips always made his cock twitch to life no matter when, where, or why it happened.

It was such a curse to him that even now, he failed to think straight enough as you rose a bit more from Luke's warm water to press a slow kiss to his parted lips. The cherry stain on your lips seeped onto his tongue, your tongue slow and delicate against his, steadily licking into his mouth a sweet confidence. He swallowed your noises, smothering them with nips and licks before easing your mouth open for a singular line of his spit to slide down your tongue. You purred at the feeling, sinking into the water a bit as he stood up and spat straight into your throat as if he owned it.

Because he did…and you adored him for it.

“Come with me…” Hyunjin grunted against your ear, not caring about the mess made, as he wrapped a strengthened arm around your waist to pull you from the cold bathwater. You helped lousy in excitement as he did, completely fine with being tossed over his shoulder like a sack of packed sugar cane. “I wasn’t finished bathing-!” You start to scold him despite not having the heart or right mind to mean anything by it, but a tender prick of his fangs to the flesh of your thighs startles you into a fit of giggles.

“And I don’t care anymore, my love…”

“Ca…c…can’t…” you choked on your words, falling to pieces as Hyunjin laid his head between your legs, hair sheened with sweat as your fingers traveled through and gripped every strand it touched tight. “Third time a charm,” he muttered, all too focused on the task in front of him and unbothered by your shaking thighs and rolling hips. “N-no..” you protested in half-sought agony, unsure if he’d even heard you when he earned another shout of his name with a slow and deliberate swipe of his tongue pressed flat to your entrance. He let the wet muscle rest there for a second, nudging it into your creamy walls inch by inch until you tugged at his hair and groaned in pleasurable despair at the feeling.

He added to the pattern, tracing the inner folds of your cunt and circling your bundle of nerves in repetitive motions. You quivered every time, leaking cum onto the fresh linen, and overstimulated in every sense you had left.

Hyunjin groaned loudly, with a collared shirt falling from his broad shoulders and your legs lazily hanging over them. A tug in your hips brought your scented body an inch closer to his face before he buried himself in your cunt again. Licking, searching, and finding exactly what he wanted. You squirmed and tossed above him, gripping at anything soft and mailable to have a steadying grip, but you couldn’t sit still or stay calm. Hyunjin wouldn’t have it any other way, sinking his fangs into your plush thighs and the soft skin just above your left knee to keep you on edge.

“N-ngh ugh….ah! Ah! Hy-Hyunjin…” you called for his attention, on the of unraveling, feeling his lips wrap around and suckle on your clit generously before his tongue went right back to exploring your insides in a practiced dance. He refused to settle down, looking up at you through fallen strands of dark and damp hair and devouring you with intent as your moans climbed to new octave before a scream tore from your throat at a final flick of his skilled tongue.

It nearly hurt how fast and how intensely he’d thrown you over the edge. A third instance is not more straightforward than the first two; a fourth is meant to top it all off immediately. You panted, feeling wild and shaken but unable to care as a buzzing heat flooded through your veins and leaked onto the sheets in arousal. It stained the soft fabric, your inner thighs -painting the darkened marks he’d left and smearing the trickles of blood he’d caused with small bites, and coated the bottom half of his face as he raised to hover above you.

You caught him in a delirious kiss, too tired to sit up and lock him in your arms but glad he felt no desire for you to do it. Hyunjin caved into you, letting your hands wander over his skin, across his shoulders, down his back, around his waist, and stopping right where his heart should beat in his toned chest.

There wasn’t a throb of life left in him, and you trusted that he saw yours as valuable enough to change.

One day…but not yet…

He answered your lingering question without a word, peppering the corner of your upturned lips with gentle kisses and soft sighs you returned. Your legs remained parted, allowing his free hand to lazily touch and spread your slick along the expanse of your cunt. “Such a pretty little flower for me…so sweet…and so,” he trailed off, nudging your head to the side to sink his teeth into your heated neck, drawing blood and a pleased moan from you as he took slow sips of your blood.

“Soft…” he finished.

His fingers plunged deep into your core, stretching the gummy walls within in slender but tasteful thrusts. You shook from the contrasting actions he was committing. Awed at how full he made you feel despite draining you in the same breath.

Was this the true love of an undead man?

Does the obsession of another once alive come back to life?

You hadn’t the slightest clue to answer both inquires, fixated on watching his fingers pump into your soaked entrance as your head spinning from the lack of blood beginning to take effect. Hyunjin refrained from sucking you dry, driven mad by the taste of you no matter how he got it, but aware of your limits as part of the living. Still, he detached from your neck with a soft and crisp sound, focused on pulling another climax from you.

You were on the verge of another, lashes fluttering as the syllables of his name faded into breathy gasps as your high tiptoed closer, but the slow drag of his fingers from your cunt slowed it to a standstill. “No..!” You yelp in disbelief, ready to shed tears if this was his way of putting a stop to your feigning for him, but your disappointment was short-lived and replaced with pleasant surprise as he shifted to kneel on the soiled sheets between your spread legs.

You watched in particular excitement as he stared you down, rolling his neck once to release tension in it, and licked the remaining droplets of your blood from the corner of his lips while reaching to undo the confines of his trousers. He said nothing as you marveled at the sight of his cock. Your face flushed a bit as he brought it into your view with his large hand wrapped around its inches more considerable length. You refused to speak a word, having imagined the sight of his cock more than once before, but speechless at its true nature being revealed.

Thick, full of stock, and neatly groomed.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of it -merely glancing up at Hyunjin in awe when he leaned forward to press the length of it against your sensitive folds, but shifting your gaze right back to it as he passed over your folds.

“Oh!…mmm..” you shuddered into a gasp and fell into a moan at the sensation. Your insides flipped and twisted, eager to know if his cock could reach new places you’d never forget. Hyunjin clicked his tongue, sparing a glance downward between your bodies before lowering his head to rest against yours, hips set back slightly to prod the tip of his length to your aching entrance. You whined, prepared for the stretch but intolerant of his ever-waning patience. “We’ll miss our first guests if we continue like this…” He hummed, sensing approaching carriages and steeds from afar in the low blizzard rousing the night air. You cup his face, eyes set on his as your lips curl into a coy smile. “Let them wait…Let them wonder where we are the whole night if that’s what must be done..”

He raised a brow, licking his lips while his cock inched into your untouched entrance, watching the fall of your smile into a small ‘o’ shape as he did so. “Your wish is my command, Lady Hwang..”

A/N: I’m sick so this is late but it’s a double feature (Changbin is next)

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[little-diable]

Carnal Sin - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

I desperately needed to get this out of my system, I ain't sorry for that. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader's mother had begged Priest Riddle to let the reader join his bible study, a bratty woman who wanted to make his life a living hell. Now it was time to finally teach her a lesson.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (m), face fucking, man handling, spanking, religious connotations, Tom being Tom

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (2k words)

“How can you possibly believe that?” Her laughter echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls as if demons were carrying the sound. All eyes were focused on her, wide eyes that trembled with fear because of the blasphemous words she kept on speaking. But she didn’t care about them, didn’t even remember their names, no, all she cared about was the pair of dark pupils staring her down. 

“Excuse me?” His voice was sharp, urged on by the need to put her in her place. All other eyes snapped back to him, lowering their gazes in fear of the priest who was known for punishing those who didn’t dare listen. But she didn’t fear him, taunting him whenever their paths crossed. 

“Oh, don’t give me that. You and I both know you don’t believe in any of that yourself. Turning water into wine? That’s witchcraft, and witches should be burned, according to your little storybook at least.” Gasps followed her words, sounds that left (y/n) grinning as if she was the Devil herself, joining the bible study to make it a living hell for those who desperately clung to their belief. For a few seconds, he didn’t speak up, holding eye contact with her from his spot, but as she parted her lips to speak, once again set on laughing words she shouldn’t pronounce, he cleared his throat. 

“We’ll end our session here, I need to have a word with (y/n), alone.” She tried not to pay the heat his words shot through her any attention, trying not to squeeze her thighs together as she watched him rise to her feet. Neither of them spoke a word as the others hurriedly left the room, closing the door to give the two some privacy. Her eyes didn’t leave his frame once, the tall figure she’d imagine whenever she let her hands wander, chasing that high she was desperate for. Priest Riddle was dangerously handsome, fooling anybody whenever he wasn’t wearing his collar.

And yet she knew it was nothing more than a game, a game whose rules he was making. But she had never been good at following rules, set on breaking them like branches snapping beneath her shoes. 

“I wasn’t optimistic when your mother begged me to let you join, you know? I knew you’d only cause me more problems. But I promised your mother to try, to give you a chance. Well let me tell you, (y/n), I’ve never been a patient man. I think it’s time you learn a lesson.” The chuckle rumbling through her left him smirking, something she clearly didn’t understand fully to anticipate what he’d do to her tonight. 

“A lesson? What, should I fall to my knees and pray ten Hail Mary’s?” He crossed the room towards (y/n) with fast steps, hand shooting out to grasp her throat before she could flinch away. A shaky gasp left her at the touch, feeling his cold rings burn into her skin. Priest Riddle stared her down as if she was now living through her last judgment, set on taking her down to hell with him.

“A prayer won’t help you no more, God doesn’t answer the calls of sinners like you. The only one you’ll pray to will be me.” She was forced to her feet for a second, lips parted to let an excited sigh leave her. This is what she had been working for, knowing that he would eventually give in, eventually cross that line he had sworn to stay away from. But even a priest had his enemies, the carnal sin calling his name in quiet hours. 

“Let's hope your mouth knows what it’s doing. Onto your knees, let me fuck those bratty words out of you.” She could have sworn that his eyes grew darker as he spoke the words, watching her drop to her knees without a single protest leaving her. “I should have known, you’ll enjoy whatever I’m doing to you. It’s all about the power you think you have, forcing me to do something I promise I never would. Let me tell you, (y/n), even priests can beg for forgiveness, and forgiveness He shall always grant me.”

For the first time since meeting Priest Riddle, she felt some fear swapping through her, wondering if she was finally burning from the reckless play with fire. It was an unfamiliar sensation, yet so awfully exciting, she could only stare up at him with a smirk. 

He did quick work of his trousers, freeing his hard cock from the confines of his clothes. He was beautiful, a man crafted by God, what a shame he was destined to hide away beneath the black suits he wore. (Y/n) followed his ringed fingers, how he grasped his cock to push himself closer to (y/n). 

“Open that mouth of yours, let’s see how much you can take.” It was a dangerous game, and yet (y/n) had always lived for the thrill. She parted her lips, tongue exposed to his dark eyes. Within seconds he had forced his cock into her mouth, to the back of her throat. She gagged around him, had her vision instantly blurred by tears. 

Without waiting for any commands, she hallowed her cheeks, letting her tongue explore his cock for a moment before he began to move. Priest Riddle’s ringed hand found the back of her head, holding her in place as he fucked her mouth, high on the sound of her gasps, chokes, sounds he’d forever remember. She was a pretty sacrifice, worth the trouble she had forced him through, that much he was certain of. 

“How can there be no God when we get to experience something like this?” His raspy voice left her shuddering, words she could barely focus on, too concentrated on the feeling of his cock fucking her mouth. No other man had ever been this rough with her, and yet she knew that she had been addicted to Priest Riddle from the first day, hoping that they’d eventually end up like this. 

“Such pretty sounds for a woman this dangerous, it’s amazing how you try to fool those around you.” He spat his words as he used more speed for his thrusts, enjoying her gasps a tad bit too much, wanting to force his cock down her throat. But he wouldn’t give in, no, he’d only give in when he was buried inside of her, fucking her into oblivion. Perhaps she’d find her way back to God when he showed her the entry to the pearly gates, torn between two worlds as he fucked her breathless. 

Spit dripped from her chin, making a mess on the dark carpet she was kneeling on. She was desperate for some friction, trying to shuffle closer, and yet he didn’t allow her to go far, held in place by his tight grasp. Their eyes met, his full of danger, hers full of desperation, begging the man to finally pull her to her feet, to fuck her like she needed him to. 

“Do you think you deserve to be touched? Do you think you deserve to cum? I should have known you’ll turn into a cock-hungry whore the second I touch you.” A gasp left (y/n) as he pulled away, forcing her to her feet seconds later. She was pushed towards the black leather couch, trying to sit down though it seemed as if she was too slow for him. With his hand finding its way back to her hair, Tom manhandled her down onto the couch, drawing an excited moan from (y/n). 

“Open those legs, show me how wet you are from sucking my cock.” A whine left her at his words, legs spread to expose her soaked panties to him, hidden beneath her skirt. His cold fingers wandered up her legs, he shuffled her skirt up to her waist before he pushed her panties aside. The groan that left him at the sight of her bare cunt shot shudders down (y/n)’s spine, eyes close to falling shut. “Look at me, don’t you dare to even think of looking away.”

His palm came down onto her cunt, spanking the soft skin with more force than anticipated. (Y/n) choked on her gasps, eyes wide as she stared up at the smirking priest. Her lungs were aching, trying to hold onto her breath as she kept choking on the air flushing through her lungs, too excited to even speak up. 

“I can’t wait to fuck you stupid, force you to take every inch.” Priest Riddle’s words were enough to leave her moaning and gasping as he flipped her around. He had her pressed against the armrest while he positioned himself behind her.

“I’m on the pill, just fuck me, please.” His raspy chuckles filled the room, leaving her walls clenching in anticipation. (Y/n) felt him brush the tip of his cock through her slit for a second before he pushed into her, her eyes instantly fell close, fingers tightening their grip on the armrest with her nails clawed into the fabric. 

“God should strike you down for the sinful words you speak, allowing a man to fuck you because you’re selfish, wanting to give in.” She shuddered against him, unable to speak as he fucked her. His hips snapped against her behind with every thrust, forcing himself even deeper into her cunt, enjoying the way she felt wrapped around him all too tightly. 

“Fuck, feels so good.” (Y/n) mumbled the words, not trusting herself to speak up, voice caught in the back of her throat as he fucked her breathless. This is what they have been warned of, the carnal sin, a feeling so intense only those who weren’t allowed to touch one were able to make one feel. 

“And for that, you will submit to me from now on, you won’t go against me no more. You’re mine now, forever mine.” A sob clawed through (y/n), she didn’t understand the depth of the words he spoke, could only choke on a “Yes”, too focused on her high to overthink the consequences she’d have to face. Consequences of actions she had been desperate to go through with. Drunk on the feeling of her priest fucking her breathless. 

“Oh God, I’m so close, don’t stop.” Her words left him chuckling, she felt him near her ear, growling the words that were about to roll off his tongue.

“God can’t help you now.” She choked on her breaths, eyes rolling into her head as she sneaked a hand down her body. Her bundle of nerves pulsed against her fingers, giving herself the last final push to fall over the edge. The white, blinding sensation shot through her, leaving (y/n) trembling as he kept fucking her. 

His breaths grew shallow, she felt him twitch deep inside of her, about to cum with a devilish grin glued to his lips. (Y/n) had to cling to the couch, scared she’d faint from the intensity of her orgasm, unable to think straight as she was panting. The priest pulled out of her seconds before he came, painting her ass with his cum. 

Wordlessly he pulled away to reach for a towel. He cleaned her with a hum leaving him, staring down at her and the fucked-out expression she wore. Only slowly did she dare to turn around, looking up at him with wide eyes. She didn’t flinch as he cupped her cheek, forcing his thumb down on her tongue for a second. 

“I expect you back here tomorrow morning, don’t even dare to think that this was your only lesson.”

[dropsnectar]

Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x afab!reader

PART THREE

This is a longer part than the rest, but its all necessary dialogue so it should be fine. More fluffy and romance than smut, BUT!! Their will be smut in the next section! I know I said this will only be 4 parts, but it may actually be more like 5 or 6. Anyway, hope you like!

So. You were starting to learn that using large batches of magic back to back weren't ideal for a young witch's health. It seemed like you might have overdone it, as when you woke you found you had been asleep for TWO WHOLE DAYS. So. If you were going to do magic, it looked like you were going to have to pace yourself, or perhaps use LESS magic.

You put yourself to learning more about witchcraft. The thing was, your grandmother's books didn't really go into the basics, and as witches were so rare, information was hard to find. Of course, the internet was full of supposed witch spells, or frameworks, but it was like throwing dice. Some spells didn't work. Some spells took up WAY too much energy. Some were just… fine? But not what you needed. 

Next you checked out forum sites. Maybe you could find a community through that way? But all you found were psychics and tarot readers. Nice people, but not what you needed.

Whelp. Maybe you needed to look at the issue differently. The environment used to be a beautiful, thriving area. What had changed between now and then? In order to understand a magic ecosystem, you had to understand ecosystems. So, for the rest of the week you busied yourself with ecology study. It was turning out that this project you had adopted on a whim would need a lot more time and breadth of knowledge then you originally thought.

***

When you met with Rena, under Lyith’s friendly gaze, you found that the magic you had cast hadn't waned at all. The flowers had grown beautifully and continued to give magic nectar that created the best honey. Rena was beside herself. “The elders of the hive say they haven't had honey of this quality since they were children! You are really onto something here, little one.”

Rena had now gotten in the habit of calling you little one. Sure, as a Bee-man she was slightly taller than you, but not by much. Also the constant fluttering and floating didn't help. 

“You've been given permission to test your magic on our other gardens as well. As long as we are careful and continue with caution!” Rena babbled. You gave her a small smile and felt Lyiths arm on your shoulder. He laid his head on your other shoulder, leaning his fuzzy head against yours. 

“Whats wrong?”

You wiggled a little. “I'm just having a hard time brainstorming how to do this. I know I said I'd help you guys, but I might not be able to use as much magic as last time. To be honest, I don't really know much about my mana and my limits…” you explained your situation. Expecting there to be disappointment, you were surprised to find none.

“I can’t help but think… How long will this last? One spell isn’t going to cut it for that long. I want to create something that will last for you guys, but that might take a while… and doing just this took all the mana I had. I want to do better. But I don’t want to hurt myself either, especially when I don’t know how this could affect my health in the long run…” The bee-men seemed to be catching on.

“Of course, little one. We wouldn't want you to harm yourself.”

 Lyith also popped up, his voice almost in your ear.

“Us Bee-men also have something like mana. Our magic is not never ending. We would have fixed this situation ourselves if it was.”

Rena reached forward and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring pat. “We don't have to do anything today. We can commence whenever you'd like. Our flowers have spread out beautifully and even this is enough.”

You frowned.

“I may have to do this every spring. Or even redo it in the summer…”

“You don’t owe us anything. You are trying your best to do us a kindness. And our hive knows and sees that. We are beyond grateful to you… Its… We’ve needed…We are truly grateful.” His expression fell at the mention of his hive, his antennas drooping. Rena moved forward and held Lyith, a sad expression on her own face.

There was a pause in conversation that grew somewhat awkward.

How do I make this better? You tried to brainstorm, but only one thing came to mind. 

You went over and gave the both of them a big bear hug. It was a tense one, but you tried to adjust your emotions, instead concentrating on how fond you had grown of the two. You tried to shout it as loud as you could through your brain at them.

This seemed to break the spell, as Rena started to laugh. Lyith looked at you affectionately. 

“I know we haven't known each other long, but I just want to say, you can count on me. If you ever need to talk about anything let me know. I'll listen.”

Rena and Lyith hummed in response, returning your group hug with a long squeeze.

Long hugs. The favorite actions of a Bee-men.

After some quiet reassurances, the two of you decided to idle while the two foraged on the edge of the Wood. You walked with them and asked them as many questions you could think of. How old were they? Were they able to do other magics? You had thought Bee-men to be isolated. How come they knew so much about human culture?

Lyith was the one who answered you most of the time. It seemed that bee-man typically lived double the life of a human, with Rena and Lyith being about 45, and 51, Lyith being the oldest. They were in the same season of life as you though!

Bee-man could do some other magics(they didn't go much into what), but they specialized in making their magical honey, which fortified the health and wellbeing of a Bee-men. 

They didn’t say it outright but it seemed like the dip in magic had affected the nutrition of their food source. They kept their own bees and shared honey, but it still wasn't enough, so they had ventured out into human society to buy fruit when it was necessary. They also did trade with neighboring beast-men, the Wolfmen being happy to share their fruit for their Bee’s wax waste. I 

“What exactly do you guys do for fun though?” You asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Lyith smiled. “Late night flying is fun.”

Rena snorted. “You mean late night spying. Lyith has a habit of looking through people's windows.”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at Rena. “If they did not want to be seen they would have drawn the curtains. It's not strange, I am just curious about human life is all.”

Rena reached forward and pinched Lyiths nose. “Poor thing. So bored he must make mischief.”

You looked at Lyith with surprise. His big eyes grew in concern and he pouted at you.

“You are not going to tease me too are you? I promise, I never see anything scandalous. I'm a good little bee.” He fluttered his eyes at you.

You giggled and pushed his shoulder. 

“As long as you're not spying on me I guess it's harmless.”

Lyiths expression shifted to one of his dopey smiles. It always surprised you how innocent he could look despite his size. Was it maybe…

“So… I may have read that you guys are telepathic right?” 

Renas face changed into a smirk. 

“Yes, and?”

“ Well, have you guys ever… used your powers on me?” 

Rena snorted. Lyith gave you an unreadable expression. “We Bee-man are very particular about sharing our heads outside of our hives. But no. We haven't done anything to you if that's what you meant…”

Oh. He was pouting now.

“No! Thats not what I meant! I just… i feel so comfortable around you guys it's almost supernatural. I just. Idk. Wanted to know. Please I didn't mean anything by it!”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at you and Rena continued to seem amused. You felt helpless and got a bit upset with yourself. You did your best to calm yourself down but you were upset. You had so few friends here and you were afraid you blew it. A wave of loneliness swept through you.

Lyith was watching you the whole time, before sighing. “All will be forgiven if you give us some of those fruit tarts you made yesterday.”

You looked at him, shocked. 

“I thought you said you didn't spy on me!”

“I wasn't spying, I just happened to be foraging by the window, and smelled something amazing. It was all incidental.”

“There's sugar in the crust. Won’t your tummy get upset?”

He just smiled. Rena laughed. “He named his price. For offending us, we must get fruit tarts.”

Finally feeling better, the three of you walked(they let you walk!!!) Back to your home. You served them up your tarts, when finally the questions started coming about you. Why did you move here? Do you have any siblings? What were you like as a child?

This went on until dinner time, at which point you decided to shoo your new friends away. “ I'll be back to do the flowers tomorrow. We… we will see what I can do.” You admitted. The two of them smiled at you, hugging you tight for a good three minutes. They always lingered, nuzzling your face and hair, as if they were getting a whiff of you. You could smell their own perfume and tried not to think too much. Their goodbyes always felt so intimate. 

 Rena decided to pepper your face in kisses before they left. Lyith just rolled his eyes at her. When they drew apart you felt empty, like some piece of you was going with them.

***

As always, Lyith picked you up that morning. This time, you made sure to bring a scarf and hat, alongside emergency snacks in your bag. Where he was taking you next was a little longer of a trip, a whole ten minutes to the usual six. That was a long time when you were hurtling through the air.

You were surprised to drop into a small crowd. There were ten Bee-men present besides Rena, who seemed to be communicating silently with them. The air was full of bee noises; humming, purring, the fluttering of wings. The air smelled amazingly fresh, floral and syrupy. It was an odd smell, but it seemed to put you at ease somehow. And maybe a bit peckish.

A Beeman a whole foot and a half taller then Rena fluttered towards you. They bowed, of which you awkwardly returned before they reached forward and took your hand gently. Lyith started,

“This is Elder Bisou. He is the eldest of our hive. He is showing you respect.”

Elder Bisou smiled at you. “Little Witch, I welcome you to our territory. My human is a bit… unused. Please receive our thanks for your efforts.” He took your hand and leaned down so that it met his temple. You could feel the rush of his magic, like your mind was a fish bowl and he was putting a gentle hand on the glass. You could feel his warmth, his deep gratitude through it. 

Your back straightened and you felt water prick your eyelids. You gave him a slow nod, becoming acutely aware just how serious this whole situation actually was. Rena and Lyith had been dancing around it, but the Bee-men must be slowly starving to death. That was the only explanation for the depths of what you had felt.

“I will do my best.” Was all you could reply. 

Lyith, acting as your translator, took you to each Bee-men he could and introduced you. It seemed that some of the elders, as well as some of those who had free time had come to watch the “little witch” work. Most took your hand gently, and sent you a ghost of what their emotions were. There was a sort of film around the emotions, a barrier of sorts. Whether this was on purpose so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed, or just how their telepathy worked, you couldn't tell. 

You did your best to not let your nerves get to you as you dissected the sections of the field where you would be doing your experiments. You didn’t know how these particular flowers would take to your spell, so it was still best to be cautious. The bee-men looked on with interest.

You did your chants in a loud booming fashion, and channeled in as elegant a fashion as you could. Like always, the magic came, and the spell did its work. These flowers were different, like rainbow colored lavender. Rather than letting the magic gush through you, you let it gently trickle out, pacing yourself. When the deeds were done, you still felt sore, and you still held a headache in your temple, but there was no nausea, so growth! 

Once you were done with your work, there was a large excited buzzing throughout the forest. There was clapping, dancing, stomping of feet, pumping of many hands, whoops from Rena and Lyith. One Bee, a worker named Aidenn held a small wooden instrument in his hands and started to play. This triggered a chorus from the Bee-men. There was a harmonizing among the crowd and they started to circle each other, laughing and dancing. A circle of flying, spinning Bee-men formed.

Rena grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto her shoulder before joining in the circle of the dance. You giggled as you spun, feeling the giddiness in the air like it was laughing gas. That same pressure filled your mind and a part of your heart started to soar. It was intimate, but not stifling and you loved feeling so close to everyone.

You lifted your hands and, feeling in the spirit, decided to hum along. At some point Rena had taken you in her arms and held you close as they continued to fly in a circle, spinning and perrying, and switching. It was similar to square dancing, where there was a pattern to it. 

At one point, the tune changed and Lyith swooped down from above and grabbed you out of Rena’s arms. She snorted at him but let it happen, joining hands with another passing Bee-men. When Lyith gathered you in his arms, he cradled you as close as possible, surprising you. One hand was gripping firmly around your waist and the other crushing you to him. He landed on the ground, and the rest of the bee-men followed, causing something of a ballroom dance. 

“You did wonderfully today.” He breathed in your ear, causing them to redden. You pulled yourself back a bit to see his face and he was looking at you with such pride and affection it felt like a weight crushing your chest. You moved your hands from his shoulders to reach his own hands. You were shaky, but you wanted to return his feelings somehow. His palms were soft.

This caused him to laugh, a purring sort of trill coming from his throat. You couldn’t help a silly grin form on your face.

“I’m glad you came to my garden.” Was all you could think to say.

He looked at you, with those big black eyes, then reached forward and kissed you on the lips. It was only a peck, but you could feel his joy through it. 

Something complex within you, a mix of happiness, excitement, hope, all of your feelings rose up into your throat. Unable to find the words to express yourself, you took all of those big heavy emotions, wrapped them all up together and kissed him back, right there, in the middle of your makeshift dance floor.

When you pulled away Lyith looked shocked, his bottom lip hanging open. Adorable as usual. 

Rena hollered from the otherside of the gathering, sending out a big whoop. There was laughter, buzzing and an echoing whoop from some of the younger bee-men. Elder Bisou made some clicking sounds, but the sides of his mouth were slightly upturned.

It occurred to you then that you were in the middle of a group of very telepathic monster people. Your cheeks grew hot in embarrassment and you pulled away from Lyith a bit. Your shoes suddenly became very interesting. 

Lyith eventually turned your chin back up to face him. He held a small peaceful smile, before bumping his forehead to yours. He didn’t share his emotions but the affection was still there.

After you grew too tired to dance, you took a seat under a tree, munching on a granola bar. Another one of the Bee-men, a younger drone named Haven, made his way to sit next to you.

“I don’t know if it was mentioned, but honey production has picked up enormously since you agreed to help us. I haven’t felt this great in… well ever! Thank you little witch!”

“I’m not little, but thank you for saying so.” You were starting to get a bit lightheaded now, and not from the dancing. It was possible that some of the symptoms of mana sickness were surfacing a little late.

“You are strong! That is true! Even elder Bisou has said he hasn’t met a human or beastman with mana like yours!” Haven turned his voice down to a whisper, as if he was sharing a secret, “Your magic smells so much like flowers, really, its a huge blessing! In fact, I would eat you up if I could!” He laughed as if he had made a joke. He sighed and looked up dreamily at the sky. “Alas, I am saving myself for when we find our queen.” He wrapped his arms around himself, as if to fend off imaginary suitors.

You wrinkled your nose. “Queen? You don’t have a queen? Isn’t that super bad for bees, I mean bee-men?” 

Heaven tilted his head at you, reminding you of Lyith. 

“Of course. That's why we are all so small and weak.” You stared at him in shock. He put up his hands. “We are doing well though! It's been 20 years since our queen died but we are still here! Oh! There is a hive up north! Any day now, one of their queens' daughters might descend and bless us! Or.. Or we--”

“Little One! You seem like you're getting sick!” Rena Descended from above and put a hand to your forehead.

“You are far too warm! Haven, mind if I take her out of your wings?”

Heaven looked up at Rena, his face a mask of confusion. He eventually gave in though and stood up.

“I should check on Elder Bisou! He might need something!” His voice was flat, obviously fake, but he ran away- flew away with gusto.

Rena took your face into her hands, tilting your head back and forth. Your lightheadedness turned full on dizzy. Rena’s face screwed up in an annoyed expression.

“You overdid it. And after that whole speech about not knowing your limits too..” She gently put a hand on your back and picked you up princess style. You would have been embarrassed, if your brain was functioning properly. Instead your gaze fixed on Rena’s beautiful iridescent wings. The lights were so lovely and they helped ground you. Honestly, everything about Rena was lovely. Well, maybe lovely wasn’t the right word. She was rough around the edges. A tease and a know it all. But she doted on you so, it made you feel a bit overwhelmed. Your gaze shifted from her wings to her lovely nose, pretty sharp for a bee-men. 

Rena started conversing with Lyith about you, pointing her jaw and humming. Huh. Rena was actually incredibly attractive. You had known that before. Maybe it was something about how dizzy everything was. The last time you had felt this way she had been kissing you, her textured tongue pushing nectar down your thoat-

“Little One”

Your mind immediately focused. She was using a demanding tone. 

“Lyith will take you home. Next time, we will only do one spell at a time.” She leaned forward and placed her cool lips to the side of your mouth. Making you blush. Well your face was already heated so you would have blushed. “I will see you again soon. Rest.” And she was off.

You were in Lyith’s arms again. A place you were starting to get comfortable in. He stared at you for a moment, his lips pursed, then sighed loudly. He held your gaze for a moment.

“I do not like this habit you are forming. You will not get sick again, understand?” 

You nodded at him, mind hazy. Sleepy. You were sleepy. 

You didn’t register the fly home, only that the coolness felt nice. You were carried from the porch, into the living room, up the stairs, and laid on your bed. You were covered in warm, delicious blankets. 

You never saw Lyith leave before you passed out. Probably because he tucked himself in right beside you, the cool air washing over both of you from the open bedroom window.

Part Four

[disabled-dragoon]

The Disability Library

I love books, I love literature, and I love this blog, but it's only been recently that I've really been given the option to explore disabled literature, and I hate that. When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be able to read about characters like me, and now as an adult, all I want is to be able to read a book that takes us seriously.

And so, friends, Romans, countrymen, I present, a special disability and chronic illness booklist, compiled by myself and through the contributions of wonderful members from this site!

As always, if there are any at all that you want me to add, please just say. I'm always looking for more!

Edit 20/10/2023: You can now suggest books using the google form at the bottom!

Updated: 31/08/2023

Articles and Chapters

The Drifting Language of Architectural Accessibility in Victor Hugo's Notre-Dame de Paris, Essaka Joshua, 2012

Early Modern Literature and Disability Studies, Allison P. Hobgood, David Houston Wood, 2017

How Do You Develop Whole Object Relations as an Adult?, Elinor Greenburg, 2019

Making Do with What You Don't Have: Disabled Black Motherhood in Octavia E. Butler's Parable of the Sower and Parable of the Talents, Anna Hinton, 2018

Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2003 OR Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2019

Wasted Lives: Modernity and Its Outcasts, Zygmunt Bauman, 2004

Witchcraft and deformity in early modern English Literature, Scott Eaton, 2020

Books

Fiction:

Misc:

10 Things I Can See From Here, Carrie Mac

A-F:

A Curse So Dark and Lonely, (Series), Brigid Kemmerer

Akata Witch, (Series), Nnedi Okorafor

A Mango-Shaped Space, Wendy Mass

Ancillary Justice, (Series), Ann Leckie

An Unkindness of Ghosts, Rivers Solomon

An Unseen Attraction, (Series), K. J. Charles

A Shot in the Dark, Victoria Lee

A Snicker of Magic, Natalie Lloyd

A Song of Ice and Fire, (series), George R. R. Martin

A Spindle Splintered, (Series), Alix E. Harrow

A Time to Dance, Padma Venkatraman

Bath Haus, P. J. Vernon

Beasts of Prey, (Series), Ayana Gray

The Bedlam Stacks, (Series), Natasha Pulley

Black Bird, Blue Road, Sofiya Pasternack

Black Sun, (Series), Rebecca Roanhorse

Blood Price, (Series), Tanya Huff

Borderline, (Series), Mishell Baker

Breath, Donna Jo Napoli

The Broken Kingdoms, (Series), N.K. Jemisin

Brute, Kim Fielding

Cafe con Lychee, Emery Lee

Carry the Ocean, (Series), Heidi Cullinan

Challenger Deep, Neal Shusterman

Cinder, (Series), Marissa Meyer

Clean, Amy Reed

Connection Error, (Series), Annabeth Albert

Cosima Unfortunate Steals A Star, Laura Noakes

Crazy, Benjamin Lebert

Crooked Kingdom, (Series), Leigh Bardugo

Daniel Cabot Puts Down Roots, (Series), Cat Sebastian

Daniel, Deconstructed, James Ramos

Dead in the Garden, (Series), Dahlia Donovan

Dear Fang, With Love, Rufi Thorpe

Deathless Divide, (Series), Justina Ireland

The Degenerates, J. Albert Mann

The Doctor's Discretion, E.E. Ottoman

Earth Girl, (Series), Janet Edwards

Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead, Emily R. Austin

The Extraordinaries, (Series), T. J. Klune

The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict, (Series), Trenton Lee Stewart

Fight + Flight, Jules Machias

The Final Girl Support Group, Grady Hendrix

Finding My Voice, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The First Thing About You, Chaz Hayden

Follow My Leader, James B. Garfield

Forever Is Now, Mariama J. Lockington

Fortune Favours the Dead, (Series), Stephen Spotswood

Fresh, Margot Wood

H-0:

Harmony, London Price

Harrow the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Hench, (Series), Natalia Zina Walschots

Highly Illogical Behaviour, John Corey Whaley

Honey Girl, Morgan Rogers

How to Become a Planet, Nicole Melleby

How to Bite Your Neighbor and Win a Wager, (Series), D. N. Bryn

How to Sell Your Blood & Fall in Love, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites, Joy Demorra

I Am Not Alone, Francisco X. Stork

The Immeasurable Depth of You, Maria Ingrande Mora

In the Ring, Sierra Isley

Into The Drowning Deep, (Series), Mira Grant

Iron Widow, (Series), Xiran Jay Zhao

Izzy at the End of the World, K. A. Reynolds

Jodie's Journey, Colin Thiele

Just by Looking at Him, Ryan O'Connell

Kissing Doorknobs, Terry Spencer Hesser

Lakelore, Anna-Marie McLemore

Learning Curves, (Series), Ceillie Simkiss

Let's Call It a Doomsday, Katie Henry

The Library of the Dead, (Series), TL Huchu

The Lion Hunter, (Series), Elizabeth Wein

Lirael, (Series), Garth Nix

Long Macchiatos and Monsters, Alison Evans

Love from A to Z, (Series), S.K. Ali

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses, Kristen O'Neal

Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro

The Never Tilting World, (Series), Rin Chupeco

The No-Girlfriend Rule, Christen Randall

Nona the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Noor, Nnedi Okorafor

Odder Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Once Stolen, (Series), D. N. Bryn

One For All, Lillie Lainoff

On the Edge of Gone, Corinne Duyvis

Origami Striptease, Peggy Munson

Our Bloody Pearl, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Out of My Mind, Sharon M. Draper

P-T:

Parable of the Sower, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Parable of the Talents, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Percy Jackson & the Olympians, (series), Rick Riordan

Pomegranate, Helen Elaine Lee

The Prey of Gods, Nicky Drayden

The Pursuit Of..., (Series), Courtney Milan

The Queen's Thief, (Series), Megan Whalen Turner

The Quiet and the Loud, Helena Fox

The Raging Quiet, Sheryl Jordan

The Reanimator's Heart, (Series), Kara Jorgensen

The Remaking of Corbin Wale, Joan Parrish

Roll with It, (Series), Jamie Sumner

Russian Doll, (Series), Cristelle Comby

The Second Mango, (Series), Shira Glassman

Scar of the Bamboo Leaf, Sieni A.M

Shaman, (Series), Noah Gordon

Sick Kids in Love, Hannah Moskowitz

The Silent Boy, Lois Lowry

Six of Crows, (Series) Leigh Bardugo

Sizzle Reel, Carlyn Greenwald

The Spare Man, Mary Robinette Kowal

The Stagsblood Prince, (Series), Gideon E. Wood

Stake Sauce, Arc 1: The Secret Ingredient is Love. No, Really, (Series), RoAnna Sylver

Stars in Your Eyes, Kacen Callender [Expected release: Oct 2023]

The Storm Runner, (Series), J. C. Cervantes

Stronger Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Sweetblood, Pete Hautman

Tarnished Are the Stars, Rosiee Thor

The Theft of Sunlight, (Series), Intisar Khanani

Throwaway Girls, Andrea Contos

Top Ten, Katie Cotugno

Torch, Lyn Miller-Lachmann

Treasure, Rebekah Weatherspoon

Turtles All the Way Down, John Green

U-Z:

Unlicensed Delivery, Will Soulsby-McCreath Expected release October 2023

Verona Comics, Jennifer Dugan

Vorkosigan Saga, (Series), Lois McMaster Bujold

We Are the Ants, (Series), Shaun David Hutchinson

The Weight of Our Sky, Hanna Alkaf

Whip, Stir and Serve, Caitlyn Frost and Henry Drake

The Whispering Dark, Kelly Andrew

Wicked Sweet, Chelsea M. Cameron

Wonder, (Series), R. J. Palacio

Wrong to Need You, (Series), Alisha Rai

Ziggy, Stardust and Me, James Brandon

Graphic Novels:

A Quick & Easy Guide to Sex & Disability, (Non-Fiction), A. Andrews

Constellations, Kate Glasheen

Dancing After TEN: a graphic memoir, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Vivian Chong, Georgia Webber

Everything Is an Emergency: An OCD Story in Words Pictures, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Jason Adam Katzenstein

Frankie's World: A Graphic Novel, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The Golden Hour, Niki Smith

Nimona, N. D. Stevenson

The Third Person, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Emma Grove

Magazines and Anthologies:

Artificial Divide, (Anthology), Robert Kingett, Randy Lacey

Beneath Ceaseless Skies #175: Grandmother-nai-Leylit's Cloth of Winds, (Article), R. B. Lemburg

Defying Doomsday, (Anthology), edited by Tsana Dolichva and Holly Kench

Josee, the Tiger and the Fish, (short story) (anthology), Seiko Tanabe

Nothing Without Us, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Nothing Without Us Too, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Unbroken: 13 Stories Starring Disabled Teens, (Anthology), edited by Marieke Nijkamp

Uncanny #24: Disabled People Destroy Science Fiction, (Anthology), edited by: Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Dominik Parisien et al.

Uncanny #30: Disabled People Destroy Fantasy, (Anthology), edited by: Nicolette Barischoff, Lisa M. Bradley, Katharine Duckett

We Shall Be Monsters, edited by Derek Newman-Stille

Manga:

Perfect World, (Series), Rie Aruga

The Sky is Blue with a Single Cloud, (Short Stories), Kuniko Tsurita

Non-Fiction:

Academic Ableism: Disability and Higher Education, Jay Timothy Dolmage

A Disability History of the United States, Kim E, Nielsen

The Architecture of Disability: Buildings, Cities, and Landscapes beyond Access, David Gissen

Being Seen: One Deafblind Woman's Fight to End Ableism, Elsa Sjunneson

Black Disability Politics, Sami Schalk

Borderline, Narcissistic, and Schizoid Adaptations: The Pursuit of Love, Admiration, and Safety, Dr. Elinor Greenburg

Brilliant Imperfection: Grappling with Cure, Eli Clare

The Cambridge Companion to Literature and Disability, Barker, Clare and Stuart Murray, editors.

The Capacity Contract: Intellectual Disability and the Question of Citizenship, Stacy Clifford Simplican

Capitalism and Disability, Martha Russel

Care work: Dreaming Disability Justice, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Catatonia, Shutdown and Breakdown in Autism: A Psycho-Ecological Approach, Dr Amitta Shah

The Collected Schizophrenias: Essays, Esme Weijun Wang

Crip Kinship, Shayda Kafai

Crip Up the Kitchen: Tools, Tips and Recipes for the Disabled Cook, Jules Sherred

Culture – Theory – Disability: Encounters between Disability Studies and Cultural Studies, Anne Waldschmidt, Hanjo Berressem, Moritz Ingwersen

Decarcerating Disability: Deinstitutionalization and Prison Abolition, Liat Ben-Moshe

Demystifying Disability: What to Know, What to Say, and How to Be an Ally, Emily Ladau

Dirty River: A Queer Femme of Color Dreaming Her Way Home, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Disability Pride: Dispatches from a Post-ADA World, Ben Mattlin

Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories From the Twenty-First Century, Alice Wong

Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability and Making Space, Amanda Leduc

Every Cripple a Superhero, Christoph Keller

Exile and Pride: Disability, Queerness and Liberation, Eli Clare

Feminist Queer Crip, Alison Kafer

The Future Is Disabled: Prophecies, Love Notes, and Mourning Songs, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Growing Up Disabled in Australia, Carly Findlay

It's Just Nerves: Notes on a Disability, Kelly Davio

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Rebecca Skloot

Language Deprivation & Deaf Mental Health, Neil S. Glickman, Wyatte C. Hall

The Minority Body: A Theory of Disability, Elizabeth Barnes

My Body and Other Crumbling Empires: Lessons for Healing in a World That Is Sick, Lyndsey Medford

No Right to Be Idle: The Invention of Disability, 1840s-1930s, Sarah F. Rose

Nothing About Us Without Us: Disability Oppression and Empowerment, James I. Charlton

The Pedagogy of Pathologization Dis/abled Girls of Color in the School-prison Nexus, Subini Ancy Annamma

Physical Disability in British Romantic Literature, Essaka Joshua

QDA: A Queer Disability Anthology, Raymond Luczak, Editor.

The Right to Maim: Debility, Capacity, Disability, Jasbir K. Puar

Sitting Pretty, (memoir), Rebecca Taussig

Sounds Like Home: Growing Up Black & Deaf in the South, Mary Herring Wright

Surviving and Thriving with an Invisible Chronic Illness: How to Stay Sane and Live One Step Ahead of Your Symptoms, Ilana Jacqueline

The Things We Don't Say: An Anthology of Chronic Illness Truths, Julie Morgenlender

Uncanny Bodies: Superhero Comics and Disability, Scott T. Smith, José Alaniz 

Uncomfortable Labels: My Life as a Gay Autistic Trans Woman, (memoir), Laura Kate Dale

Unmasking Autism, Devon Price

The War on Disabled People: Capitalism, Welfare and the Making of a Human Catastrophe, Ellen Clifford

We've Got This: Essays by Disabled Parents, Eliza Hull

Year of the Tiger: An Activist's Life, (memoir) (essays) Alice Wong

Picture Books:

A Day With No Words, Tiffany Hammond, Kate Cosgrove-

A Friend for Henry, Jenn Bailey, Mika Song

Ali and the Sea Stars, Ali Stroker, Gillian Reid

All Are Welcome, Alexandra Penfold, Suzanne Kaufman

All the Way to the Top, Annette Bay Pimentel, Jennifer Keelan-Chaffins, Nabi Ali

Can Bears Ski?, Raymond Antrobus, Polly Dunbar

Different -- A Great Thing to Be!, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

Everyone Belongs, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

I Talk Like a River, Jordan Scott, Sydney Smith

Jubilee: The First Therapy Horse and an Olympic Dream, K. T. Johnson, Anabella Ortiz

Just Ask!, Sonia Sotomayor, Rafael López

Kami and the Yaks, Andrea Stenn Stryer, Bert Dodson

My Three Best Friends and Me, Zulay, Cari Best, Vanessa Brantley-Newton

Rescue & Jessica: A Life-Changing Friendship, Jessica Kensky, Patrick Downes, Scott Magoon

Sam's Super Seats, Keah Brown, Sharee Miller

Small Knight and the Anxiety Monster, Manka Kasha

We Move Together, Kelly Fritsch, Anne McGuire, Eduardo Trejos

We're Different, We're the Same, and We're All Wonderful!, Bobbi Jane Kates, Joe Mathieu

What Happened to You?, James Catchpole, Karen George

The World Needs More Purple People, Kristen Bell, Benjamin Hart, Daniel Wiseman

You Are Enough: A Book About Inclusion, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

You Are Loved: A Book About Families, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

The You Kind of Kind, Nina West, Hayden Evans

Zoom!, Robert Munsch, Michael Martchenko

Plays:

Peeling, Kate O'Reilly

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With an extra special thank you to @parafoxicalk @craftybookworms @lunod @galaxyaroace @shub-s @trans-axolotl @suspicious-whumping-egg @ya-world-challenge @fictionalgirlsworld @rubyjewelqueen @some-weird-queer-writer @jacensolodjo @cherry-sys @dralthon @thebibliosphere @brynwrites @aj-grimoire @shade-and-sun @ceanothusspinosus @edhelwen1 @waltzofthewifi @spiderleggedhorse @sleepneverheardofher @highladyluck @oftheides @thecouragetobekind @nopoodles @lupadracolis @elusivemellifluence @creativiteaa @moonflowero1 @the-bi-library @chronically-chaotic-cryptid for your absolutely fantastic contributions!

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[zomyoo]

⠀𝗝.𝗪𝗪 ━ the vampire i loved, pt. 2 。

it had been a few days since you were magically teleported into a realm of vampires and witchcraft. you deeply missed the feeling wonwoo brought to you. as you were studying for exams, you saw a familiar face...

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: smut included! public sex, vaginal, fingering, oral, teasing, masturbation and pet names.

⠀ ⟢ vampire!wonwoo x collegestudent!reader ⠀⠀—⠀⠀𝗪𝗖: 1,834

read part one here.

“you can’t possibly go into the human realm, wonwoo. it’s too dangerous.” the woman spoke, looking into her crystal ball as the tall man hovered over her, a look of desperation in his face as he requested for her assistance. “she came into our realm and nothing happened, why would it suddenly be dangerous for me?” he questioned, taking a seat as he looked into her eyes, hoping to see something that would confirm he was right.

she sighed, staring back into his dark eyes as she prepared herself to list the consequences. “well, your powers could be weakened, or worse, completely gone, you’d also have to protect yourself from the sun since it’s currently summer over there and there’s absolutely no chance that you find her. there’s over seven billion people over there and they are scattered around five continents.”

wonwoo didn’t react to her words, he was fully ready to assume every single one of them. “if you end up far from her, you’d never be able to meet her. you only have 24 hours up there.” the woman added, earning nothing but a sigh from the man.

sat at the library owned by your college, you sighed as you stared at your computer, not able to concentrate on your essay. you had to leave your dorm room as seeing his face plastered everywhere caused your mind to trail off. however, you found yourself in the same situation at the library. you imagined his fingers tracing down your body, his hands cupping and squeezing your breasts whilst he whispered sweet nothings in your ears.

you squeezed your legs together and bit your lip, your cheeks tinting red as your thoughts went wild. you were a complete mess and only one person could get you out of it. remembering you were in a public space, you quickly composed yourself and looked around to make sure nobody saw that embarrassing moment.

as you did so, your gaze stopped at a familiar figure. you could recognize his tall appearance, black locks, chiseled jawline and pale skin from afar. you raised an eyebrow before packing your things, walking towards the man who made his way to the upper level of the library. you found it quite strange that you were following someone you weren’t even sure was the person you hoped it would be, but you felt attracted to them.

as you took a corner, you found yourself in between two bookshelves but the figure had disappeared. were you just imagining things? as you were about to turn around and walk away, convincing yourself that everything was just a dream, you were suddenly pulled back and pinned against a shelf. you looked up at the person and your gaze immediately softened as your eyes fell upon the man you had been waiting for.

“wonwoo...” you whispered, and before you could say anything else, he had already smashed his lips against yours, savoring your strawberry chapstick, and his hands made their way to your waist, pulling you in closer before he placed them inside your jeans, squeezing your butt. that alone was enough to turn you on, you missed his touch and your body showed just that.

as you melted in his grasp and savored the taste of his lips, you reached out for his shirt and unbuttoned it, your fingers trailing down his chest, feeling the abs he had most likely gained from working out. then you wrapped your arms around his neck and he did the same, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he lifted you up, separating his lips from yours and placing soft kisses on your neck.

oh... how he adored that specific area of your body. the way its scent completely took over his senses and drove him crazy. he proceeded to lick it, using the bookshelf to support your weight as he used his right hand to lift your shirt, exposing your bare chest. what a lucky man, you had always hated bras.

“were you waiting for me?” he jokingly questioned but you knew you were. you looked for him everywhere, tried sleeping in every position in hopes to be brought back into his realm and even reread the books to feel closer to him but all came in vain. you bit your lip as you felt your cheeks reddening, refusing to answer his question.

not taking your silence so lightly, he quickly placed your left breast in his mouth, sucking it whilst occasionally curling your nipples with his tongue and softly biting it. meanwhile, he used his right hand to squeeze your right breast, not forgetting to give it attention to. as he did so, you tried to contain your moans, remembering you were both fucking in a library and anyone could walking in on your lewd action.

you lifted your head up, soon burying your mouth in the palm of your hand to muffle the sounds that desperately wanted to come out. you adored his lips on your body and the way it made you feel. you wanted more, but you knew that getting more at this moment wouldn’t make it last longer. you wanted him to stay by your side for as long as you needed, even if it meant getting separated in natural ways.

“wonwoo.... i missed you so much.” you breathed out, his lips suddenly crashing against yours and your exposed chest pressing against his bare one, your nipples hardened at the sudden contact. his fingers trailed down your body, from your breasts to your stomach, all the way down until they stopped at your clothed clit. he then began rubbing the area, causing you to let out a sigh of impatience.

“wonwoo p—”

“answer my question first.” he spoke, suddenly stopping his motions, “were you waiting for me?” you whined, avoiding eye contact with him as you bit your lip once again. you had to answer the question now, there was no escape.

“y..yes. i was...” you whispered, still not looking into his eyes as you knew you would instantly melt underneath his strong gaze. he knew and adored the effect he had on you, which was why he placed his hand on your chin, turning your head over to face him. “i didn’t catch that, say it again?” he teased, a smirk plastered on his lips as he watched your cheeks heat up.

before you could utter a word, he had already unbuttoned your shorts, sliding them down your legs before he placed his fingers on your clit, making sure his hand had enough space to fit in between your thighs before he began rubbing it, soon inserting them inside your clit, a soft moan escaping your lips as he did so.

“did you touch yourself whilst looking at the poster you placed above your bed?” his sudden question causing you to shut your eyes open. it was very specific and you wondered how he knew so much information, how he knew about the poster and its exact position. “how the hell do you know that?!” you blurted out, a bit embarrassed as you recalled doing his exact words.

“i know a lot of things about you, love. just like you know so much about me.” he said, leaving you even more confused than you previously were. thrusting his fingers into you, sliding them in and out at a fastened pace, he crashed his lips against yours to muffle your sweet noises. he was a bit disappointed he couldn’t fully listen to them but he didn’t want anyone else to see the state he put you in.

as you allowed yourself to give in to the taste of his lips, he quickly unbuttoned his pants, tossing it alongside his boxers and revealing his cock. soon, it came in contact with your clit, delicately rubbing against your tissues, the sudden pleasure sending chills down your spine. you pulled away from the kiss and rested your back against the shelf before lifing your head up and biting your lips to contain your moans.

feeling restless and impatient, your hands wandered around his body, not sure where to stay. you began moving your hips alongside his movements, a groan escaping from his lips as you did so. “fuck...y/n.” he breathed, taking both of your hands with his left, pinning them above your head as he buried his face on your neck, placing sloppy kisses on it. he wanted you, but he also wanted to remain by your side for as long as he could. he didn’t want this moment to end, so he made sure to cherish every single moment of it.

“wonwoo... i... please...”

“i know baby, just a give me a moment.” he said, his words vibrating on your skin before he inserted his cock inside you, a loud moan escaping from your lips. he was quick to put his hand over your mouth, “not so loud, we’ll be heard.” he whispered as he thrusted inside you. it was slow, but deep enough to drive you crazy.

as you were both having the best time of your lives reuniting with one another and sharing a moment of intimacy, in the very corner of the aisle you were both in, someone was watching. with his pants down and his right hand around his itching cock, he watched as you melted underneath wonwoo’s merciless thrusts. he enjoyed watching your breasts jiggle every single time his hips hardly hit against your pelvis.

“w-wonwoo...” you breathed out, and though you knew the effect it had on the man that was fucking you with everything he had, you had no idea that the one watching felt the same way. wonwoo turned you around, your chest facing the bookshelf whilst he took your hips in his hands for support, moving faster and harder whilst his groans sent chills down your spine.

“i’m so close...” you added, resting your head on your arms as you held the shelf and your gaze plastered on his pretty face. you still weren’t sure how he was real, afterall, he was still a fictional character you had fallen in love with. “cum for me baby.” he said, turning you around once more before he smashed his lips against yours, his cock still moving deep inside you, causing you to finally let go.

the man kissed your forehead, holding you close as you catch your breath. you looked up to him and placed a gentle kiss on his lips before placing your head on his shoulder. as you did so, you spotted an unfamiliar figure looking towards the both of you. as he got caught, he quickly put on his clothes before running away, which caused you to smile.

“we had an audience. unfortunately they ran away so i’m not sure who it is.” you whispered in wonwoo’s ears, a plastered grin on his face before he looked at you. “oh yeah? maybe we should write a book together. i’m sure it’d be a best seller.”

dividers by @/cafekitsune and @/saradika-graphics the ending was kind of rushed as i’ve been struggling with writers block but i hope you enjoyed! i will not be writing another part of this and if i ever do, it’d not be a smut <3 thank you sm for reading mwa

[cherry-pop-elf]

Flowers For You

‘Poof’ Periwinkle Fairywinkle-Cosma x Reader

Authors note: @clownsgirlghost You asked, Gimmie yo life force/jk

Sum: You’ve always been utterly obsessed with folklore. Fae, Crypteds, what have you. You respected them, the traditions, even when people made fun of you for it. You didn’t care. You loved them, and it seem’s like the gesture has been returned.

Warnings: Bullying, religious metaphor’s, paganism, assholes to witches, my attempt at accurate folk lore, and a shitty attempt because I only know so much from a show I don’t have access to

“There goes that weirdo again. Stay away, might get cursed.” You would listen to them gossip. Never seeming to actually try and keep it subtle. You didn’t care, you were living your life. Well, trying to. It eats at you after a while. No matter how strong you were.

You would just sigh, as you just wanted to return home already. Had been such a long day. Shopping was a pain, and you just wanted to go to bed. Buying dumb adult things like food and toiletries. Also some things to leave as offerings. You saw a beautiful bundle of periwinkle flowers.

A fairy circle had appeared in your backyard, and you wanted to show your respect to the Fae that use them. You kept your distance, and respected the ring of mushrooms. Even put rocks around it, to try and help protect it. It’s a small gesture, but you hope they know your intent. They should, unlike your neighbors.

Swore they could hear the jingling of your keys, as they were quick to look over their fences to face you. Trying hard to not be seen, as they knew what they were doing was wrong. Actually it was because they genuinely thought you were a weirdo that might throw mud at them.

“Just ignore them. Just ignore them. The richer the man, the dumber the man.” You would plead to yourself, wishing you never inherited this old house. Right in a Richie rich neighborhood. Hey, a free house is a free house. Especially in his economy. Not like you’ll ever be in a position to move.

You would sort out your groceries, and be back in your zen. Feeling calm with yourself. Taking out the flowers, gently trimming off the dead parts, just fluffing it up really. Wanting it to look its best, as if offering it to a physical person. Gave you calm, and comfort.

With the flowers made you would go out to your backyard. Right to the fairy ring. Rocks all around it, as to try and keep it safe when you mowed the lawn. To give it respect, and honor, with letting it have its own space. Even as far as to gently toss the flowers into the middle, as to not break its barrier.

“Witchcraft I tell you. Keep your animals inside. Might be used for some kind of satanic sacrifice.” You would over hear, as the rattle of collars echoed from behind the fence. Made your heart ache. You weren’t doing anything wrong, this was your practice. What makes it different from what they do?

You tried to fight your tears, as you turned your back to the ring. Just as you did, however, you heard a strange noise. You swore it sounded as if a rattle of chimes went off, while hitting a pillow case. It was such an other worldly sound, you just had to turn to look at it.

“Really? You really jumped into the nearest fairy circle you could?” “I WANTED TO GO TO FAIRY WORLD-!” “YOU COULD HAVE ENDED UP AT THE BOTTOM OF A LAKE!” “I CAN SWIM-!” On and on the shouting went between your neighbor Dev Dimmadome, and a strange floating man. Left you in shock, as they argued. Not quite aware of your existence. Left you to study them.

“And further more-! Hey! Move your sneakers-!” The bright, purply man, shouted. Fluttering wings were quick to zoom down, and scoop up the flowers. Dusting them off from the trampling, and seeming to make them bloom back to life. As if they were never harmed.

“Look at that! Periwinkles! I love these flowers! Yes I’m bias, because they are my colors, but still! I remember back when I was just a little basketball. Back when me and Timmy…..” The man seemed to trail off, as those glittering eyes seemed to sparkle for other reasons.

“Uh, Peri…..You can cry about your brother later, we got company-“ Dev would tug at the floating man’s pant leg, drawing his attention to you. Those pure eyes just seeming to stare through your soul, and through your heart. Taking in every mortal detail you offered, and seeming to be taken aback. As if watching a sunset for the first time.

Didn’t last long, before he seemed to panic. The flowers tossed high in the air, leaving Dev to try and catch them off. Seemed like Dev can care for other living creatures. Who knew! As if you could focus on that, as a massive purple book appeared. With the worlds ‘Da Rulz’ on the cover.

“WHAT DO I DO?! FAIRES CANT BE SEEN LIKE THIS! OH NO OH NO OH NO OH NO-“ The poor, floating, man was in a panic. Not knowing what to do, while Dev would just casually walk up to you. Bundle of flowers still in hand, as he lower his shades a bit. Not all the way, but enough for you two to share eye contact.

You were one of the few people that ever gave a shit about him, and actually had human interaction with him. Not just his robot baby sitters, or just smoozed on him for his money. You didn’t have much, but you gave him something no one else did. Time. Time for him.

“Hey Witchy-“ A nickname he gave you, but like many friends it was a term of endearment and mockery at everyone else compared to actually an insult to you. Just a kid being a kid, and it was nice to have. Someone to just talk to you.

“So ya know how you always talked about fairies and folk lore and like Bigfoot and stuff? Yeah. That’s a fairy. Neat, huh?” He seemed to try and brag to you, as the poor fairy in question was still a panic mess. Just wanting to try and find an answer to his worries.

“Promise not to tell anyone?” He asked, as you slowly nodded. “Peri! Chill! Witchy is cool! Probs left the flowers even. You left the flowers, right? Course you did.” He more so said to himself.

That seemed to calm the fairy down, and make the book vanish. Ever so gently he would flutter over to you, as Dev returned the flowers to him. The bundle brought to his pointed nose, as he inhaled them. Lost in a memory, from childhood days. Days when he was with him.

“For me? Really? Like really really?” He asked, as his face was a brilliant pink. Was accompanied by intense fluttering of his wings. Much like how a person would wave their hands around when over stimulated, but in the positive way.

“I mean….Yeah. Yeah actually.” You nodded, as that was the intent. Never in your wildest dreams did you think something like this would happen. To very literally give flowers to a fairy, and to have the gesture enjoyed. Must be some kind of divine intervention.

“….Guess you would follow under a magical being identification, so I don’t need to worry…” Sounded more like he was trying to convince himself more than anything, but at least he was calming down.

“Um….Do you two want to come inside?” You offered. Probably a bad idea to invite a fae inside, and definitely a good idea that Dev used your nickname then your real name. The number one rule is to never offer a fae your real name. But…..Never have you seen a fae design like him in stories. Maybe things were a little different. Especially since he seemed to be in some kind of connection with Dev.

“Hell yeah. I do NOT want to be around my old man right now. Come on Peri-!” And Dev ran inside, leaving you two alone. For him to keep fluttering those pale purple lashes, as he was just adoring the flowers you had bought. Just stuffing his face in them. Lost in the textures and smells.

“Thank you…..I….They remind me of my childhood. Miss those days…So I uh. Thanks, Witchy.” He smiled to you, as you blushed all the same. Not as intense as him, because you were a human, but it was returned.

“You don’t have anything good in here! Peri! I wish that Witchy’s house was full of food! The good kind! You know what I’m talking about!” You heard Dev shout. Ever the blunt one.

Before you could make a remark, you saw Peri raise the strange cane of his. That same magical sound went off, and it seemed to blow out of your open door way. This bloom of smoke, that vanished as quickly as it arrived.

You would hurry inside, more so to see if Dev was ok, to be met with your home filled with food. Cabinets full and organized. Fridge open with sodas and juices. Pantry with chips and canned goods. It was like you suddenly were a grocery store with the levels of goods.

“There we go-!” Dev said, as he sat on the counter. Just munching away on a bag of cookies. Just left you speechless. What do you even say to something like this? Such pure, literal, magic.

“Guess that’s one way to say thanks for the flowers.” Peri would snort, as he giggled into his flowers. As if just a bashful school girl. Left Dev eye rolling, but was contented to be anywhere but his place. A mansion doesn’t bring the warmth your home did.

“Told you Witchy was cool. Didn’t do that weird back breaking dance, no screaming, no kidnapping. Witchy is so mellow. That’s what I like.” Dev would use you to brag to this fairy companion. Had you worry a moment.

“Are you like, owned by Dev? Did he kidnap YOU? Are you trapped?” You worried, given what Dev said. Along with just how true the statements are. To steal them for power, and wishes. Which was just what Dev did.

“Yeah. I mean-! Not like that-! Like-Oh uh. I’ll start from the top-“ He was blushing even more now, somehow. Suppose your genuine worry touched him. Along with the fact that even though he literally stuffed your home with food you were worried about him. Not a single drop of green in your tongue.

“I’m a Fairy God Parent. We are, basically, step in parents for kids who are….Well….” He gave a nudge at you, as Dev didn’t seem to be paying attention much. Messing with his phone. Most likely to plan some kind of tech aligned experiment for his future mischief.

“I get it-“ You nodded, as it was clear now. A parental figure, that can help kids be kids. With wishes to their hearts, and rules in place to keep both parties safe. Made you understand the situation alot more. You were wondering why Dev seemed alot happier lately. And a lot less of an asshole. Something you marked up as out bursts from his troubled home, which you couldn’t blame him for lashing out about.

“Guess since you are definitely classified as a magical being, I’ll be seeing you a lot more now. Dev hates being at home. Yeah it’s got all the things money can buy, but if it filled the damn void I wouldn’t be here. Huh?” He snorted, as you nodded as well. Along with a laugh, as it was certainly an experience to hear a fairy swear.

“Will you two stop flirting and get over here? Hazel sent me a text. Something about burritos? Violent mood swings?” Dev more so muttered, as Peri seemed red alert now.

“WE CAN NO HAVE ANOTHER BABY! I swear if Dad is pregnant, again-“ That had you both staring at him, before Dev’s phone dinged. “Never mind, it was just gas.”

Peri gave a sigh of relief, but you both were gawking at him still. That’s when he snapped his fingers, before trying to fix his hair. Get himself back in fairy order, instead of being a blushing mess of anxiety and nerves.

“It’s….Oh it’s a long story-“ Peri huffed, as his cane seemed to turn into a hand mirror of sorts. Floating in the air, so he could properly fix his large curl. Along with sneak a few flowers into it.

“I’ve got time…..” You offered, as you grabbed a drink from the fridge. Just finally able to enjoy some time now. Just chilling with people, and not so worried about food right now. Able to actually savor it all.

“Well….It all started with a wish. Before you ask, that’s gonna be a massive staple to most of my insane stories I have-“ Peri warned, as even Dev seemed interested now. Chaos from wishes? Don’t mind if he do! Even held the carton of cookies to you, as you were both ready for the gossip now.

It honestly seemed to make Peri happy, and do that flutter of his eyelashes again. Those flowers back to being snuggled into his face, and his cane turning into a photograph. A picture with a green haired fairy, a pinker haired one, a bundle of purple cloth in their hands, and a little kid. With buck teeth, and a pink hat.

“It all started, with an average kid, who made a wish for my parents to have a baby…”