#the end of howls moving castle is so sweet

[caramelt4me]

Secret. - Part V

(Yandere Idol X Kidnapped Reader)

Trigger warning: mention of sexual content, violence, substance ab*se, manipulation, power imbalance, unresolved trauma and angst

·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Prologue Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

“𝔽*ck it, let’s just watch The Exorcist.”

Asher declared; his tone as casual as if he were ordering takeout.

He didn’t even spare Nex more than a fleeting glance, already pulling you tighter into his lap. His arm draped over your shoulders with the ease of someone asserting ownership, his breath warm as he purred into your ear. “Iconic, terrifying, and it gives me the perfect excuse to hold my baby tight. Don’t you agree, honey?”

Your ears throbbed with heat, a telltale sign of your flustered state. His amused blue eyes drank it all in, a smirk playing on his lips as if he thrived on your bashfulness.

Nex, perched awkwardly at the far end of the couch, cleared his throat.

His bandaged fingers were fidgety as the pink haired male hunched his shoulders –making him look like a guilty child caught raiding the cookie jar.

“Uh…how about something, you know, lighter? Like Howl’s Moving Castle? Or Paddington? Even Mean Girls?” His voice wavered, hopeful but clearly trying not to let his aversion to horror bleed through too much.

Asher turned his head slowly, the deliberate movement alone enough to make Nex regret opening his mouth. His piercing gaze locked on Nex like a predator sizing up its prey.

“Seriously?” he deadpanned. “You’re afraid of a spinning head and a little green puke? What are you, five?”

“It’s not just about me!” Nex snapped, trying to sound defensive but failing miserably as he faltered under Asher’s glare. “I mean, she might not like horror too—”

“She?”

Asher’s expression darkened in an instant, his icy blue eyes narrowing. “It’s Noona* or Hyeong-sunim* to you. Pick one.”

Nex visibly shrank, his bandaged hands clutching his hoodie strings like a lifeline.

“N-Noona,” he stammered beet-red, sounding like a kid in the principal’s office. “I meant Noona might not like scary stuff either.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Asher’s sharp tone melted away as if it had never been there. A disarmingly warm smile replaced the menace as he nuzzled into your shoulder, making you jolt.

“Besides, you don’t have to look out for my girl,” he said with syrupy sweetness, directing his words at you now, “We get enough romance in real life, don’t we, baby? A little possession and head-spinning won’t hurt.”

You blinked, torn between laughing, crying, or bolting from the room altogether. But Asher’s arms locked firmly around your waist, leaving you no choice but to stay rooted in his lap, acutely aware of Nex’s twitchy discomfort.

“Fine,” Nex muttered, defeated, sinking into the couch with a sigh.

The room dimmed as the movie began, the haunting tones of its score filling the silence. You tried to focus on the screen, but Asher’s grip on you was impossible to ignore. His chin rested on your shoulder, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm on your hip in a nonchalant display of possessiveness. It was maddeningly casual, yet unmistakably deliberate.

Meanwhile, Nex was visibly uncomfortable, his eyes darting everywhere but toward you and Asher. Beneath the bandages on his hands, you were certain his knuckles were white as he gripped the cushion tighter, clearly enduring the awkwardness and impending fear with as much dignity as he could muster.

For what felt like the hundredth time, you questioned how this once-postponed movie date for two had spiralled into such an absurd scene.

Your lover—who was seized by a fit of possessive jealousy, shamelessly embracing you just as you were about to honour your conscience, guilt-ridden decision to maintain a respectful distance in presence of his most cherished work buddy.

The estranged maknae—a recovering addict—who was valiantly holding onto his composure amidst a lovesick couple.

And you—your lover’s supposed ex-stalker—who had allegedly groomed him to become a temperamental beast in heat—were caught in the middle of this painfully bizarre situation.

It was almost too much to process for your fractured mind.

The guilt that had weighed heavily on your shoulders mere moments ago had evaporated, replaced by a suffocating wave of embarrassment—first-hand, second-hand, and every kind of hand possible.

You had anticipated something entirely different.

A serious conversation about Nex’s precarious situation, perhaps even a plan. Instead, Asher had swept it all aside in favour of this surreal bonding session.

What had gotten into him so suddenly? you wondered, shifting subtly in an attempt to wriggle free and occupy the open space beside your lover.

But before you could escape, Asher’s arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against him with a grip that made it clear you weren’t going anywhere.

“Relax, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low, velvety purr against your ear. “It’s just a movie. Nothing to be afraid of.”

His tone was deceptively soothing, but the way his sly hand slipped beneath your baggy T-shirt to trace slow, deliberate patterns over your navel made your breath hitch.

You weren’t sure if his words were meant to calm you, to tease the already uncomfortable maknae—or both. Either way, the atmosphere in the room only thickened as the movie played on, the tension as palpable as the flickering light of the screen. At least The Exorcist wouldn’t be worse than your current reality.

Or so you had forgotten.

As the eerie background music built to a chilling crescendo, a sudden, heart-stopping jumpscare flashed across the screen. Nex’s timid eyes darted away instinctively, too scared to even close them, his fear of the darkness only making the terror worse. He hated being the third wheel, but his gaze flickered toward you and Asher anyway.

You were not having a great time—trembling visibly as you flinched and shrieked at every scare. At one particularly horrifying moment, you buried your face in Asher’s chest, your fists weakly pounding against his firm torso as you cursed him for putting you through such torment. “I hate you—you sadistic jerk!” you hissed, your voice muffled against his shirt.

But unlike those ‘other’ days, Asher knew not to take your words too seriously. In fact, he was chuckling softly, his smirk as insufferable as ever. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” he whispered, though his tone made it clear he wasn’t sorry at all. His large hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as he cooed blushing, “You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

The maknae’s gaze lingered for a moment longer than he intended, watching your feisty protest. He decided, grudgingly, that he’d rather endure the awkward spectacle of your lovey-dovey antics than keep his eyes on the nightmare fuel flashing across the screen. But before he could turn his head fully, Asher’s piercing blue eyes darted his way, sharp and deliberate. Nex flinched and immediately snapped his focus back to the screen, the gory scene making his stomach churn.

In his peripheral vision, the pink-haired male caught the faintest smirk curl on Asher’s lips, and then came the words. “See, baby,” Asher purred, loud enough for Nex to hear, his tone playful but unmistakably possessive. “You’ve got me to protect you, even from scary movies. A kiss would be a fair trade, don't you think?”

“Who knows, it might even help distract you—! Mmph-”

It was a shameless trap.

Nex knew Asher was trying to bait him into stealing another glance, but he resisted, sinking deeper into the couch as if to disappear as he became visibly flustered—the soft squelching sound of your lips and Asher’s drowning the eerie background score for his utterly bothered ears.

As much as it seemed like Asher was being possessive, the maknae knew it wasn’t insecurity driving him. His hyung didn’t feel threatened by him—not even a little.

This wasn’t about jealousy.

It was a message, one that Nex understood all too well.

This was Asher’s way of showing how much you meant to him. Not just as someone he loved, but as someone he would protect at all costs. And anyone foolish enough to harm you wouldn’t just deal with his wrath—they’d face something far worse.

It was both a warning and a demonstration to him, painted in smirks and subtle threats, as deliberate and unnerving as the horror film playing on the screen.

The suppressed anxiety churned in Nex’s chest, resurfacing with an unwelcome ferocity.

____

Though the memories of the day he allegedly overdosed were hazy, buried deep thanks to the sedative Asher had injected into him three days prior, the consequences were all too clear.

One high dose had proven too much for his fragile body, leaving him slipping in and out of consciousness, unable to fully grasp his surroundings or his predicament—only catching disjointed fragments of reality.

“Wow, you really did a number on yourself with that drug, didn’t you?”

Asher’s voice, faint and detached, cut through the fog in Nex’s mind. His bleary grey eyes fluttered open briefly, catching a blurred glimpse of the raven-haired male with his back turned, murmuring almost to himself. “What were you doing? Mixing it with cereal for breakfast when I wasn’t looking? Your immune system must be utterly fried up by now to react so sensitively to just one dose (of the medicine).”

The words stung, though Nex couldn’t fully process them. Asher’s tone was sharp, but his actions betrayed a troubling concern. The blue-eyed male sighed heavily as he bandaged Nex’s bruised hands, his motions uncharacteristically careful, almost absentminded.

“I guess it’s better I got to you before the Old Man shipped you off to some real facility,” Asher muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Nex realized that his hyung hadn’t noticed him stirring.

Deciding it was safer to feign unconsciousness, the pink-haired male closed his eyes again, letting his breathing remain shallow and even. Listening silently, he tried to ignore the strange twinge in his chest at Asher’s apparent care.

It was confusing, this softer side of his hyung.

Asher had always been sharp, caustic even, especially after starting to foil his drug dealings a year ago. Tough love—more like a sick joke in Nex’s eyes.

But now, with the disinfectant applied carefully, the bandages snugly wrapped, and his hyung’s hands uncharacteristically gentle, the maknae felt his long-held hatred waver.

That is, until Asher’s voice shifted, his tone as cold as ice.

“But I didn’t think you’d sink low enough to come for my girl,” he said, venom lacing every word. “Really? A few grams of narcotics are all you’re worth?”

Nex felt the shift in the air, the tension so thick it was suffocating. Asher’s hands stilled briefly before he yanked off the old bandages and threw them into the trash with unnecessary force. The maknae barely had time to brace himself before Asher’s hand snaked around his throat, gripping him with a firm, deliberate pressure.

“Should I just end things here?”

Asher’s icy blue eyes bore into him, his voice deathly calm. “Why waste my time trying to tame a snake that shares blood with that woman?”

For a terrifying moment, Nex thought this was it. But then, just as suddenly as the pressure came, it eased.

Asher let go, stepping back and scoffing to himself. “But that would make me the biggest hypocrite,” he muttered, his gaze unreadable as he began gathering the medical supplies.

Before leaving, Asher murmured, almost to himself, “Guess I’ll wait and see if you try to bite me again, Hyeong-je*.”

The door clicked shut, leaving Nex alone.

Hot tears trickled silently down his face as his watery grey eyes opened, staring up at the ceiling. His chest ached, tight with unprocessed trauma and pain, but disturbingly, a faint, bittersweet smile curled on his trembling lips.

How long had it been since Asher acknowledged their shared kinship—even to himself?

Never.

Asher had always refused to recognize their blood relation, keeping their shared secret buried from even the members—forget the rest of the world. And yet, here he was, risking that very old secret to protect a new one—someone Nex hadn’t even met properly yet.

Truly, it made him extremely curious and a bit envious to know more about you.

The person who had managed to thaw his hyung’s icy blues and unravel his twisted heart even if only a part.

Yet, his innocent desire was quickly nipped at its bud, a day before he officially met you.

____

“What do you mean, don’t ask anything personal?” Nex had furrowed his brows, clearly confused. “How am I supposed to get to know her? Or even talk to her?”

Asher, unbothered, had barely looked up from the papers spread across the desk in the guestroom. “Don’t talk, then. Speak when spoken to.”

The curt reply left Nex restless, clutching the blanket around him tightly.

Asher’s sharp blue eyes flicked to him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Too difficult for you to follow?” he added mockingly. “Want me to help by cutting out your tongue?”

“N-No thanks,” Nex stammered, hating how easily Asher’s gaze could unnerve him. Gathering his courage, he pressed on. “Um..what if I am asked a question instead?”

For the first time, Asher’s gaze softened, a faint chuckle escaping him.

Returning his attention to the papers, he said casually, “My baby won’t. And if she does, you’ll know what to say. Just be how you usually are around others.”

The vagueness of the answer left Nex uneasy. He realized, with a sinking heart, that while Asher had dipped into their past connection to keep him in check, it was clear he wouldn’t let Nex use it to his advantage.

It was all about you.

Everything Asher was doing was for your sake alone.

Nex’s chest burned with frustration, bitterness curling around his heart like smoke.

“Why should I listen to you?” Nex finally asked, his voice low and defiant, his grey eyes hard. “You need me. I don’t.”

Cold amusement flickered in Asher’s icy blue eyes as he scoffed, studying Nex’s face with a mix of disbelief and disdain. Rising from his chair, he walked toward the bed, making the pink-haired maknae flinch and clutch the blanket closer instinctively. However, instead of making a move against him, Asher simply dropped a stack of papers onto the bed in front of Nex’s wide, timid eyes.

“Are you sure about that?” Asher arched a brow, his gaze sharp as he gestured for the youngest to look at the scattered documents.

Confusion shifted to shock as Nex scanned the papers. His breath hitched at the sight of detailed medical reports—blood tests, liver and kidney function results—with critical points highlighted in bold red. Interspersed among the reports were photos—clear portraits of familiar faces, grainy CCTV stills, and unsettling images Nex could already tell held damning evidence.

“I assume you can figure these out on your own,” Asher remarked coldly, gathering the medical reports and shoving them closer to Nex with deliberate force. “If not, let me summarize it for you.”

He pinched his fingers together, narrowing the space between them as he smirked. “You’re about this close to a full-blown liver failure. Which, in simpler terms, puts you this close to having one foot in the grave.”

Nex stared at the reports in silence, his mouth dry, unable to form a single word. His grey eyes shifted hesitantly toward Asher, who rolled his own in mock exasperation.

“What? Already losing me?” Asher sneered, the mockery in his tone biting. “And here I thought the withdrawals clearing up might help you think a little better. But hey, what do I know? It’s not like I can pump you with another dose of the sedative without sending you straight into a coma. So, bear with it, will you?”

The frustration in Asher’s voice was palpable, though it wasn’t entirely directed at Nex.

Beneath his cold exterior, an unfamiliar mix of emotions churned—regret, disappointment, and even… fear?

It wasn’t like him to care for the maknae. Contempt and indifference had always been his go-to emotions. Yet, seeing the results of Nex’s self-destruction had shaken something in him.

Not that he’d ever let it show.

The pragmatic part of Asher’s mind urged him to maintain control, to suppress the slivers of humanity threatening to surface. Perhaps, he would have to take the classic route of manipulation and blackmailing without much assistance from the medicine.

There could still be a use of a knight, even if wounded.

Meanwhile, Nex felt hot tears sting his eyes, the overwhelming weight of mortality pressing down on him. The reports painted a picture he couldn’t ignore—his recklessness had brought him to the brink. Even the faintest tremors in his hands reminded him of his withdrawal episodes, each one a stark reminder of how fragile he had become. Before he could stop himself, he reached out, his trembling fingers clutching the corner of Asher’s sleeve.

“Am I really going to die, hyung?” Nex’s voice was raw, his grey eyes glassy with desperation as tears rolled down his pale cheeks. “Please… please save me.”

For a moment, Asher’s cold mask cracked, his icy blue eyes flickering with something unnameable. Vulnerability from Nex wasn’t something he had expected, and for the briefest second, he almost wavered.

Almost.

Shrugging off Nex’s hand with practiced indifference, Asher scoffed, turning his attention back to the papers. “Are you dumb? I said close to dying—not actually dead.”

Nex flinched at the harsh dismissal, hurriedly wiping his tears and cursing himself for breaking down in front of Asher. Of all people, his hyung was the last person he wanted to see his weakness, especially when the latter seemed to revel in it. Still, there was no reprieve.

Asher wasn’t finished driving his point home.

“Now, if your own body shutting down isn’t enough to scare you,” Asher began, his tone sharp, “let me introduce you to the people who would make you wish you were dead.”

He gestured toward the photos of known drug dealers and shadowy figures. “Kingpin, Dragon Kim, Ghost Lee—ring a bell?” Asher sneered. “These are the lovely individuals—the big shots, you had been dealing with. Money in exchange for your stash. Did you honestly think these people played fair? Took me some time, but I recovered the call logs and texts they kept tucked away for insurance. One of them was already on his way to sell everything to the paparazzi before Baek intercepted him. Careless doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Nex’s gaze dropped, his fingers gripping the blanket tightly as shame bubbled beneath the surface. Asher, of course, wasn’t done.

“And this,” Asher continued, pointing to the CCTV stills. “A waitress from the club sipping one of your ‘special’ drinks. Here? That’s one of our fans sneaking into your little party. And this—,” he said with a particularly cutting scoff, flipping over a photo, “—is the masterpiece. You. Passed out in your own puke and sweat. Truly, a sight to behold.”

The image was a slap in the face. Nex stared at it, the reality of his actions crashing down on him like a tidal wave. He couldn’t decide which was worse—the incriminating evidence or the icy disdain in Asher’s voice.

“You really think you don’t need me?” Asher’s voice cut through Nex’s spiralling thoughts, low and dangerous. “Keep telling yourself that, kid.”

____

As the end credits rolled, the maknae sat several shades paler, haunted by both the horror movie and flashbacks. Meanwhile, you were flushed and light-headed, having spent the entire runtime making out with Asher. The culprit himself remained full of energy, his lips still trailing over your heated neck with unrelenting passion.

You found Asher’s stamina bafflingly inconsistent.

One moment, he’d be gasping for air after begging you for the sweet torture of your tongue. The next, he’d be ravenously devouring you—over and over—until you were left in a haze of lust and exhaustion.

It had reached a point where even Nex’s awkward, wide-eyed front-row seat to your steamy session barely registered in your mind. As Asher had whispered teasingly in your ear, the maknae was the “uninvited guest” in your home, not the other way around.

So, there was no reason to be polite.

A loud growl from your stomach broke the spell, snapping you out of the trance that even Nex’s wary, pink-haired presence in your peripheral vision couldn’t shatter earlier.

Embarrassed, you bit your lip, feeling heat rush to your cheeks as Asher chuckled softly.

He pulled back, withdrawing his arms from around your waist with deliberate slowness. His proud, mischievous blue eyes met yours, twinkling with delight as he noticed the clear disappointment written all over your face.

“Looks like someone’s hungry for actual food,” he purred, running his thumb teasingly over your bottom lip before planting a chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth. His lips lingered there, savouring the undeniable hunger for him in your gaze.

Stalker, was it?

Asher would make sure you wore that faux self-accusation as a badge of pride. There was no way he’d let you sink into self-loathing when every thought you had could—and should—be consumed by him instead.

“Nex,” Asher called out, his voice carrying just enough weight to catch the maknae’s attention. His blue eyes flicked toward him as he added, “I heard you make a killer grilled cheese and brownies.”

“I do?” Nex blinked, clearly taken aback by the extent of Asher’s secret info on him. He fidgeted with the strings of his hoodie before stammering, “I-I mean, yeah…”

Asher smiled faintly, turning back to you as he casually smoothed your slightly messy hair with his fingers. “Great. I think we have everything we need, so why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

“S-Sure,” Nex replied quickly, scrambling to his feet and making a beeline for the kitchen. It was clear he was desperate for the excuse to escape his third-wheel predicament, no matter the cost.

Asher gently eased you onto the couch before standing, stretching lazily as he prepared to follow the maknae.

But before he could leave, you cupped his face, your voice low and tinged with concern as you whispered, “I know it’s not my place, but… don’t bully him too much. He already seems shaken.”

For a fleeting moment, Asher’s sharp blue eyes softened in surprise. A faint blush crept across his face, but it didn’t last. With a sly smirk, he caught your hand, pressing a kiss into your palm—a lingering, wet kiss that left you flustered and breathless.

“Fine,” he murmured, his lips curling into a devilish grin. “But I don’t like it when you’re thinking about another man while I’m right in front of you.”

With that, he licked his lips and strode toward the kitchen, leaving you a blushing mess on the couch—completely alone with your racing thoughts.

‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

*Noona (누나): elder sister; *Hyeong-sunim (형수님): sister-in-law; *Hyeong-je (형제): brother

@shadowytravelerlover

[blondewelshhimbo]

the only thing that should be romanticized is the ending of howls moving castle. whether the book or the movie it should 100% be romanticized

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Maid and The Crocodile

standalone YA high fantasy romance, set in the world of Raybearer (10 years later)

a girl ages out of her orphanage and searches for a job as a maid - but before she’s hired, she accidentally gets bound to the Crocodile - a god thought to steal girls through his shrines throughout the cities

she wants nothing to do with him or his curse, and gets herself a job as a Curse Eater at an inn, consuming the spiritual residue of their past mistakes and regrets

but her past and her connection to the Crocodile won’t go away, and she gets caught up in his revolutionary ambitions

disabled MC (vitiligo, cane user)

[elikajinnie]

You Taste So Sweet - P.S

P: Vampire!Sunghoon X Fem!Reader (16+)

Warnings: Blood, Blood Drinking, Teasing, Slight Stalking, Suggestive Content, Fated Lovers, Ambigious Ending, Predator/Prey.

Wordcount: 16,6k

Synopsis: A camping trip turns into a nightmare when a dare leads you to a vampire's castle. Instead of death, you find an alluring vampire who desires your heart and soul. As his obsession grows, you realize escaping his grasp may be impossible because he wants you more than anything.

a/n: as a kid.. i remember having a mega crush on the 3 vampire wives from Van Helsing :D but anyways, so i got some of the vampire ability ideas from @ yjskat on TikTok :) So credits to them! i also did alot of research for these themes :)

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

Ever since you were young, you were captivated by stories of mythical creatures—centaurs galloping across ancient forests, sirens luring sailors to their doom, vampires lurking in the shadows, and werewolves howling at the full moon. But as fascinating as these tales were, you never believed them. Why would they exist in the real world, especially now, in an age of science and reason?

Maybe that’s why you found yourself standing in front of a hundred-year-old castle deep in the woods. It had started innocently enough—just a weekend camping trip with some friends, far away from civilization and the distractions of the internet. After the sun had long ago dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky a blanket of darkness, you had all gathered around the campfire, pulling out flashlights to illuminate your faces in the flickering glow.

The night began with laughter and harmless stories, but somehow, things had taken a turn. One of your friends had brought up a legend—a vampire said to live in a castle not far from where you had set up camp. At first, you scoffed. Vampires? In this day and age? No way.

That’s when the dare came up. Prove it. Spend the night in the castle, and if you came back in the morning with nothing to show but a few laughs, they'd drop it. You, stubborn as always, accepted without a second thought. How bad could it be?

But now, as you stood before the towering, ancient structure, its stone walls covered in moss and shadows that seemed to shift and breathe in the moonlight, the weight of your decision settled in. The castle loomed above you, its dark, jagged spires reaching into the starless sky. For a moment, you swore the whole place was alive, like the stone itself was moving beneath your feet, pulsing with something ancient.

The wind whispered through the skeletal branches of trees surrounding the castle, and the heavy iron gates creaked eerily in front of you, almost as if they were beckoning you in. You laughed nervously, trying to brush off the unsettling feeling creeping up your spine.

“There’s nothing here,” you muttered, tugging the strap of your bag tighter across your shoulder as if it could shield you from the growing unease. The gate groaned as you squeezed through the narrow opening, and with a deep breath, you started up the path toward the castle. Each step felt heavier than the last, and you couldn’t help but glance up at the looming structure. It was completely dark inside, not a single flicker of light behind the cracked, weathered windows.

You sighed, trying to shake off the creeping dread. Of course, it’s dark. No one’s lived here for ages. You were about to convince yourself of that when a sudden rustling beside you caught your attention. Instinctively, you whipped your flashlight toward the sound, heart pounding. A black raven sat perched in a twisted tree, its beady eyes fixed on you. For a moment, neither of you moved, staring each other down in the silent night. Then, with a sharp caw, it spread its wings and soared toward the castle, disappearing into the darkness above.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” you muttered under your breath, trying to ignore the way your pulse was racing. Forcing yourself to keep moving, you continued up the path, the shadow of the castle growing larger with each step.

The gravel crunched beneath your boots as you approached the heavy oak doors of the castle. The flashlight beam trembled slightly in your hand, casting long, jagged shadows on the stone. You paused in front of the entrance, staring up at the intricately carved door. The wood was ancient, worn down by centuries of wind and rain, yet still sturdy, almost intimidating.

You hesitated. Behind you, the forest was eerily silent, save for the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl. It was as if the woods were holding their breath, waiting for you to make a move.

Steeling yourself, you reached out and placed your hand on the cold metal handle. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, but you ignored it, forcing yourself to push the door open with a loud creak that echoed through the empty halls inside.

The air inside was thick and musty, the scent of dust and decay hitting you as soon as you stepped over the threshold. You swept the flashlight across the entrance hall, revealing towering pillars and grand, faded tapestries hanging from the walls. Cobwebs clung to the ceiling, and the floor was littered with debris—remnants of a place long forgotten.

You sighed again, this time in a mix of relief and unease. There was no sign of anything unusual. No vampires, no strange noises, nothing that would suggest the castle was anything more than an abandoned relic. “See? Nothing to worry about,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the vast, empty space.

But just as you were about to take another step, a loud thud echoed from somewhere deep within the castle. You froze, heart leaping into your throat as the sound reverberated through the halls. Your flashlight flickered for a second, casting the shadows into an eerie dance.

“It’s fine,” you whispered again, but this time, the words felt hollow. You weren’t so sure anymore.

You exhaled slowly, trying to steady your nerves. “It’s fine,” you muttered once more, as if saying it enough times would make it true. Deciding to set up camp before your imagination got the better of you, you unrolled your sleeping bag by the entrance. The cold stone floor sent a chill through your body as you knelt down, but you forced yourself to ignore it. After making sure your bag was securely in place, you sat back for a moment, listening to the unsettling quiet.

The idea of staying right by the door for the night was reassuring—at least you could make a quick escape if anything went wrong. But despite that small comfort, your curiosity gnawed at you. The castle felt… alive, in a way. You had already come this far, and the stories your friends had told around the campfire echoed in your mind, tempting you to explore further.

Grabbing your flashlight, you stood up, feeling an odd mixture of excitement and dread. You hadn’t come here just to sleep by the entrance. If you were going to prove there was nothing lurking in the dark, you had to see the castle for yourself. Maybe then you could return to camp in the morning and laugh it off with everyone else.

The long corridor ahead of you beckoned, its darkened arches seeming to stretch into the unknown. Your footsteps echoed against the stone as you cautiously made your way deeper into the castle. The air grew colder the further you went, as if the walls themselves were closing in around you.

The place was clearly abandoned, but it felt like you weren’t alone. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something—or someone—was watching you from the shadows.

Suddenly, you heard it again. Thud.

This time, it was louder, more distinct. It sounded like something heavy had fallen, or perhaps… something had been moved. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned in the direction of the noise, the beam of your flashlight trembling slightly.

“Hello?” you called out, immediately regretting it as your voice echoed down the hall.

There was no response, but the silence that followed felt different. Heavier.

Against your better judgment, you followed the sound, each step you took feeling like it carried you further into the unknown. At the end of the hall, there was a massive door, partially ajar. You approached cautiously, your hand hovering over the handle.

With a deep breath, you pushed the door open. It creaked loudly, revealing a grand staircase that spiraled upward into darkness. You hesitated, glancing back toward the entrance where your sleeping bag was waiting for you. For a moment, you considered turning back.

But something urged you on.

With the flashlight held tightly in your hand, you started up the stairs, each step amplifying the growing sense that something was lurking just out of sight.

You ascended the staircase slowly, each creaky step echoing louder than the last in the oppressive silence. The air grew colder with each step, and the darkness seemed to press in closer. Your flashlight’s beam flickered slightly, but you shook it, willing it to hold steady. As you neared the top of the stairs, a large, ornate doorway came into view, framed by heavy wooden doors that looked far sturdier than the ones downstairs. Unlike the rest of the castle, these doors seemed well-maintained, almost as if they were still in use.

With a deep breath, you reached out and pushed one of the doors open. It groaned loudly on its hinges, revealing what lay beyond: a grand ballroom. You stepped through the doorway, your breath catching in your throat.

The room was vast, with high ceilings and enormous windows draped with thick, faded curtains. A massive chandelier, still glittering despite its age, hung from the ceiling, casting a faint, ghostly glimmer as your flashlight passed over it. The floor beneath you was a dark, polished wood, still gleaming faintly despite the passage of time. The room, though worn, was far better kept than anything you had seen downstairs.

You scanned the room, taking in the details. Dust hung in the air, swirling in the faint beam of your flashlight, but the place didn’t feel abandoned like the lower levels had. The tattered tapestries and cracked pillars of the lower halls were replaced here by careful preservation. It was as if something—or someone—had been taking care of this part of the castle, long after the rest had been forgotten.

The eerie stillness of the ballroom weighed heavy on your shoulders. The faint echo of your footsteps on the wooden floor was the only sound. You swept the light across the room again, lingering on a grand piano in the far corner, its glossy surface free of dust. It looked as though it had been played recently, the lid slightly ajar, exposing the strings inside.

Your heart pounded in your chest, every instinct telling you this was wrong. It wasn’t just that the room was better kept than the rest of the castle—it was the strange, unshakable feeling that this place was waiting for something. Or someone.

You took a step closer to the center of the ballroom, glancing around nervously. Your footsteps were soft on the polished floor, but they felt impossibly loud in the quiet space. The air here felt heavier, as though something unseen lingered just beyond your sight.

Suddenly, you froze. From the far end of the ballroom, you heard it—a soft, almost imperceptible whisper that sent chills racing down your spine.

Your heart raced as you slowly turned toward the direction of the whisper. Raising your flashlight, you shone the beam across the far end of the ballroom. The light cut through the shadows, revealing nothing but the empty space where the sound had come from. No one was there. Just the eerie silence of the room, thick and suffocating.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, and called out, “Is anyone there?”

Your voice echoed back to you, bouncing off the high ceilings and polished floors, but there was no answer—only the hollow repetition of your own words. The stillness that followed made your skin prickle with unease.

Your grip on the flashlight tightened as you glanced around, feeling more disoriented by the second. Something was off. You knew it, but the logical part of your mind still clung to the idea that this was just an old, empty castle.

Then, you noticed something—a faint swishing sound, like fabric being stirred by a gentle breeze. You aimed your flashlight upwards and saw the source: a large window on the far wall, slightly ajar. The curtains, heavy and dark, shifted ever so slightly in the draft that crept in from the outside. The wind was toying with the edges of the fabric, making them sway back and forth like the room was breathing along with you.

You exhaled in relief, telling yourself that it was just the wind. That had to be it. The strange noises, the whisper—maybe it was just your nerves getting the better of you in this unsettling place.

But as the wind swirled through the crack in the window, the cold air carried something else with it—a faint, distant melody, barely audible. It sounded like music, haunting and old, drifting through the night like a ghostly remnant of something long past.

Your heart skipped a beat.

You shook your head, trying to shake off the creeping unease that had settled in your chest. It’s just the wind, you told yourself. An old building. No need to overthink it. The ballroom was strange, yes, but it felt safer than the decaying entrance hall you had set up camp in.

With one last glance at the open window, you turned and hurried back down the winding staircase. Each step felt faster as you tried to distance yourself from the unsettling whispers and sounds that still seemed to linger in the air. When you reached the entrance hall, you wasted no time gathering your things—your sleeping bag, snacks, and whatever else you had left behind.

As you packed up, the hard, cold stone beneath you was a stark reminder of how uncomfortable the night would be if you stayed here. The ballroom, despite its eerie atmosphere, at least had a smooth, polished floor that was far more inviting than the uneven stone slabs below. You figured you’d be able to sleep easier in a room that wasn’t as decrepit.

With your belongings secured, you made your way back up to the ballroom. The staircase creaked beneath your feet, but you ignored it this time, focused on the task at hand. When you reached the top and stepped back into the vast ballroom, the cool breeze from the window greeted you again, but it was gentler now, as if the castle had grown quiet in your absence.

You unrolled your sleeping bag in the center of the room, right under the chandelier. The polished wooden floor, though still cold, was a welcome change from the rough stone. After settling everything in place, you stood for a moment, staring around the ballroom. The eerie whispers were gone, and the faint melody you thought you had heard earlier was nowhere to be found.

You exhaled a long breath, trying to let go of the tension still gripping you. “It’s fine,” you said again, your voice soft in the stillness. The ballroom’s grandeur, though worn, had a strange comfort to it now, and maybe—just maybe—you could get some sleep here.

You sat in your sleeping bag for what felt like hours, though in reality, it had only been a short while. The ballroom was eerily quiet now, with nothing but the faint rustling of the wind from the slightly open window to break the silence. The air was still cold, but the polished floor was more comfortable than the hard stone downstairs.

Your flashlight sat beside you, its beam pointed toward the ceiling, casting soft shadows that swayed gently with the breeze. You kept glancing around the room, your eyes following the flickers of light, trying to shake the lingering feeling that something was watching you. But there was nothing. Just the grand, worn-down ballroom and the sound of your own breathing.

You pulled the sleeping bag tighter around your body, trying to warm yourself as the chill of the castle seeped in. The massive chandelier above you swayed ever so slightly, but you told yourself it was just from the draft coming in through the window. Your mind wandered back to your friends, probably huddled around the campfire, laughing at the ridiculous dare they’d set for you. It felt absurd now, sitting here alone in this massive, decaying castle, waiting for morning to come.

Finally, you decided it was time to get some sleep. There was no point in staying awake any longer, especially when nothing strange had happened since you’d returned to the ballroom. You took one last look around, reassuring yourself that everything was as it should be.

Lying down, you turned onto your side, pulling the hood of your jacket over your head as you curled up inside the sleeping bag. The quiet of the castle pressed in on you, the faint sound of the wind outside barely audible now. Your eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion from the long day finally catching up with you.

Eventually, sleep claimed you. The eerie stillness of the castle, once so unnerving, faded into the background as exhaustion took over. Wrapped tightly in your sleeping bag, you drifted into a restless slumber, your mind retreating from the strange surroundings.

But even in your sleep, something felt… off.

A faint sensation brushed against your cheek, gentle and cold, like the touch of a feather or a breeze. You hummed softly, stirring in your sleep. Your brow furrowed, and you shifted, turning onto your other side as if trying to escape the odd feeling. But the sensation returned, more insistent this time. The caress was cool and deliberate, like someone was carefully tracing the curve of your cheek.

You tossed slightly, murmuring, your body reacting to the touch but your mind too deep in the fog of sleep to fully register it. The sensation lingered, delicate yet persistent, as though whoever or whatever was responsible was toying with you, watching your every reaction.

You turned again, your breathing quickening in your sleep as the cold touch remained against your skin. Unbeknownst to you, a shadow loomed over your sleeping form, standing impossibly still. Gleaming eyes observed you with an unsettling intensity, the figure’s presence unseen but undeniably there.

And still, you slept—unaware of the watcher that hovered in the darkness above you.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

You slowly woke to the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains, illuminating the dust particles dancing in the air. The gentle warmth coaxed you out of your sleep, and you blinked a few times, trying to shake off the remnants of dreams that felt oddly vivid.

For a moment, you lay still, the events of the previous night rushing back to you. You remembered the whispers, the caress against your cheek, and the feeling of being watched. But as you glanced around the grand ballroom, the memories felt more like fleeting shadows than genuine threats. Everything appeared normal—the chandelier sparkled in the morning light, and the polished floor was still eerily silent.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself up and stretched, feeling the stiffness in your muscles from sleeping on the floor. After a quick glance around, you began to pack your belongings. You rolled up your sleeping bag and made sure you hadn’t left anything behind. It felt good to have made it through the night, and you were relieved that the castle hadn’t consumed you in the darkness.

Once you were ready, you retraced your steps back down the winding staircase, the air warmer as you stepped out into the sunlight. The forest greeted you with chirping birds and rustling leaves, and you couldn’t help but smile at the beauty of the morning.

The campsite wasn’t far from the castle, and as you approached, you could see your friends gathered around, still bright and cheerful. They looked up when they saw you, a mix of curiosity and excitement on their faces.

“How was it?” Yuna called out, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You shrugged, trying to downplay your experience. “It was easy. Just an old, empty castle.” You didn’t want to admit the odd feelings you’d had or the strange sensations from the night before.

But your nonchalance only fueled their interest. “Come on! You can’t just leave us hanging like that!” Wooyoung chimed in, leaning forward with a grin. “We all want to see it now. Let’s go explore it together!”

Your stomach dropped a little at the thought, but your friends' enthusiasm was infectious. They began to gather their things, excitedly chattering about what they might find. You hesitated, glancing back toward the castle.

Still, you couldn’t let fear dictate your day. “Alright, let’s go,” you said, forcing a smile. After all, it was just a castle—nothing you hadn’t survived the night before.

As you set off toward the castle again, your heart raced with both apprehension and excitement. Maybe exploring with your friends would be a different experience entirely. After all, safety in numbers, right?

As you and your friends entered the castle once more, the atmosphere felt different with the warmth of the morning sun streaming through the windows. The grand ballroom was just as you had left it, a stunning sight in the daylight, with dust particles dancing in the rays of light.

“Wow, this place is amazing!” Wooyoung exclaimed, stepping into the ballroom and spinning around as if he were the star of a grand performance. “Imagine having a party here!”

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, and the others soon joined him, their excitement palpable. Ji-Sun and Jiwon began to inspect the piano in the corner, while Mackiah wandered over to the chandelier, eyeing the outlines of the crystal fixtures with wonder.

“Okay, where to next?” Wonbin asked, looking around. “We should check out that staircase.”

The grand staircase spiraled upward, and with eager agreement, the group moved toward it.

As you ascended the staircase, you noticed the details of the castle more keenly—the intricate carvings on the banisters and the faded portraits hanging on the walls, their subjects gazing down at you with expressions both regal and haunting. At the top, a balcony overlooked the ballroom, and the view was breathtaking.

“Look at this!” Jiwon exclaimed, leaning over the edge. “Can you imagine the parties they must have had here?”

“It must’ve been incredible,” you replied, peering down at the empty space below, which now felt less intimidating in the light of day.

From there, you and your friends explored the various hallways branching off from the balcony, each leading to old rooms that seemed frozen in time. The doors creaked as you pushed them open, revealing dusty bedrooms, a library filled with crumbling books, and a dining room where the remains of an old banquet still lingered in the air.

“This is wild,” Ji-Sun said as she flipped through the pages of a weathered book, its title long faded. “I can’t believe this place hasn’t collapsed yet!”

Your friends moved through the rooms, each one filled with awe and curiosity. You found yourself drawn to a small alcove with an old tapestry depicting a grand feast, the colors faded but still vibrant in their depiction of revelry. It was a stark contrast to the silence of the castle now.

But as you all continued your exploration, you were oblivious to the dark figure that had followed you. A black raven lingered just outside, its beady eyes watching your every move with an unsettling intensity. It cawed softly, as if keeping watch over the group as you wandered deeper into the castle.

“Hey, check this out!” Wooyoung called from a room at the end of the hall, his voice echoing off the walls. “I think I found a secret passage!”

You turned to see him gesturing excitedly toward a hidden door cleverly concealed by a heavy curtain. The thrill of discovery sparked a rush of adrenaline within you, pulling you closer to the group. As you approached, the raven flapped its wings, disappearing into the shadows of the castle.

“What do you think is behind it?” Mackiah asked, peering over Wooyoung’s shoulder.

“Only one way to find out!” Ji-Sun said, stepping forward with a bold grin.

The group gathered around, anticipation buzzing in the air as Wooyoung pulled back the curtain, revealing the door.

With a deep breath, Wooyoung grasped the handle of the concealed door and pulled it open. It creaked ominously, the sound reverberating through the stillness of the hallway. The group leaned in closer, peering into the dimly lit passage that lay beyond. A cool breeze wafted out, carrying with it the faint scent of must and something else—something earthy.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, glancing at your friends. The thrill of adventure coursed through you, but the shadows lurking just beyond the door felt unnervingly alive.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Ji-Sun encouraged, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Mackiah and Wonbin exchanged amused glances, clearly eager to explore. “Besides,” Wonbin added, “if it’s just a storage room or something, we can always turn back.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, you nodded, curiosity overtaking your apprehension. The group stepped forward, with Wooyoung leading the way into the passage. You followed closely behind, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

The narrow hallway was dark, with only the flickering beam of your flashlight cutting through the gloom. The walls were lined with ancient stone, and cobwebs hung from the ceiling like delicate lace. You could hear the distant sound of your friends’ footsteps echoing off the walls as they ventured further in.

“Whoa, look at this!” Ji-Sun’s voice echoed back to you, her tone a mixture of awe and disbelief. You hurried to catch up, your flashlight illuminating the space ahead.

You emerged into a larger chamber, and gasps of wonder filled the air. The room was vast, its ceiling arching high above, supported by sturdy stone columns that reached toward the dark ceiling. At the center stood a large, circular table, surrounded by mismatched chairs that looked like they hadn’t been touched in decades. Dust motes danced in the light as you stepped closer.

“This must be where they held meetings or something,” Jiwon mused, brushing her fingers along the table’s surface, revealing intricate carvings underneath the layer of dust.

“Or maybe it was a secret gathering place,” you suggested, the idea thrilling you. “Like for a hidden society or something.”

As you explored the room, you noticed an old fireplace along one wall, its mantel adorned with faded photographs in gilded frames.

“Hey, look at these!” Wonbin called from the fireplace, his voice drawing you over. “These people look kind of… creepy.”

You approached and squinted at the photographs. Indeed, the faces of those in the images seemed to have an unsettling intensity, their gazes almost following you as you moved. You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you shook it off.

“Just old pictures,” you said, attempting to sound more confident than you felt.

Suddenly, from the corner of your eye, you spotted movement. You turned, instinctively pointing your flashlight toward the shadows, but saw nothing. Your heart raced, and you glanced back at your friends, who were all engrossed in their own discoveries.

“Did anyone else see that?” you asked, your voice slightly shaky.

Your question was met with puzzled looks. “See what?” Ji-Sun replied, frowning.

“Never mind,” you said, trying to brush it off. The shadows danced just out of your flashlight's reach, but there was something about the air that felt charged, as if it held secrets waiting to be uncovered.

As the group continued to explore the room, a sudden rustle echoed from the passage you had entered. Everyone froze, their heads snapping toward the source of the sound. A cold breeze swept through the chamber, carrying the faintest whisper, barely audible, yet distinct—like a voice calling from the depths of time.

“What was that?” Jiwon whispered, her eyes wide with apprehension.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you turned your flashlight toward the entrance. The shadows shifted, and you felt an inexplicable urge to flee the room, a instinct clawing at you from deep within. But you also felt a strange compulsion to stay.

You took a deep breath, ready to voice your concerns, when suddenly, the whispering grew louder—a chorus of hushed tones that seemed to echo from all around you, sending chills racing down your spine.

You glanced at your friends, who were all looking back at you with wide eyes, clearly feeling the same unsettling energy.

“Guys… I think we should leave,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

But before anyone could respond, a loud thud resonated from the passage behind you, sending everyone jumping back. The tension in the air became palpable, and you could feel the fear rising among the group.

“What was that?!” Wooyoung exclaimed, his bravado fading.

“I don’t know, but I think we should get out of here,” you urged, your heart racing.

Just as you all turned to make your escape, a sharp hissing sound sliced through the air, causing you to freeze in your tracks. The noise reverberated in the cavernous room, echoing ominously off the stone walls.

“What was that?!” Wonbin asked, his voice laced with anxiety.

You all instinctively looked up, and the sight that met your eyes made your blood run cold. A mass of bats hung from the ceiling, their wings folded tightly against their bodies, and their yellow eyes glimmered in the dim light like tiny lanterns. They swayed slightly in the draft, their presence looming like a dark cloud overhead.

“Oh man, this is not good,” Mackiah whispered, taking a step back.

The hissing intensified, a cacophony of flutters and screeches that sent a wave of panic through the group. The bats began to stir, their wings rustling as they seemed to sense the movement below.

“Do you think they’re… friendly?” Ji-Sun ventured, though her tone was far from convincing.

You shook your head, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. “I don’t think we should stick around to find out.”

As if sensing your fear, the bats suddenly took flight, swirling around in a chaotic flurry. Their wings created a thunderous sound that filled the chamber, making it hard to think or hear. In a panic, your friends began to scatter, trying to find a way out of the room.

“Run!” you shouted, urging everyone to move.

You bolted toward the exit, your heart pounding in your chest as the bats whirled around you. The sheer force of their wings felt like a gust of wind, pushing against you. You could hear your friends behind you, their shouts mingling with the chaotic cacophony of fluttering wings.

You dashed through the doorway, stumbling slightly as you exited the large chamber, and you could feel the cool air of the hallway hitting your face. It was quieter here, but you could still hear the flapping of wings echoing behind you.

“Keep moving!” Ji-Won yelled as she caught up to you, her eyes wide with fear.

You all sprinted down the hallway, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The hissing had faded to a distant memory, but the shadows felt alive, pulsating as you dashed past them.

“Where do we go?” Jiwon panted, glancing nervously over her shoulder.

“Back to the ballroom!” you suggested, hoping it was the safest place.

You veered toward the grand ballroom, bursting through the doors, you skidded to a halt, panting heavily.

“Is everyone here?” you gasped, quickly counting heads.

“Yeah, but what was that?” Wonbin asked, trying to catch his breath.

“I don’t know, but those bats… it felt like they were warning us or something,” you replied, glancing back at the door as if expecting the creatures to follow.

“They were creepy!” Ji-Sun exclaimed, her voice shaky. “We need to get out of here before something worse happens!”

You nodded in agreement, and the group gathered together, looking around for a way to leave the castle behind. The sunlight streaming through the ballroom windows was comforting, but the thought of returning to the depths of the castle sent chills down your spine.

“Let’s head back outside,” you suggested, moving toward the grand entrance.

As you approached the massive doors, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still watching you from the shadows. You paused, glancing back toward the hallway, half-expecting to see anything, but there was nothing.

“Are we all ready?” you asked, your voice steady despite the anxiety thrumming beneath the surface.

With a series of nods, you pushed open the heavy doors, and the bright light flooded in, illuminating the worn stone path ahead. Stepping outside felt like stepping back into reality, and the cool breeze was a welcome relief.

“Let’s get back to camp and enjoy the rest of the day,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “No more creepy castles for now.”

With a collective sigh of relief, the group started to make their way back, the tension from the bats and shadows slowly fading as laughter and chatter resumed.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of lightheartedness, a stark contrast to the unsettling events of the morning. Once you all returned to camp, the tension eased with every hour spent lounging in the sun, telling jokes, and sharing snacks around the firepit. The eerie weight of the castle seemed to vanish in the daylight, and by mid-afternoon, the memory of the bats and the cold whispers in the shadows felt more like a strange dream.

Wooyoung and Mackiah led the charge in cooking a hearty dinner—grilled meat and vegetables wrapped in foil, while Ji-Sun and Jiwon worked on creating s'mores, laughing over burnt marshmallows and chocolate smeared on their faces.

Yuna sitting by you leaned back on her elbows, gazing up at the sky as it began to change hues from bright blue to shades of orange and pink.

“This is perfect,” she sighed. You only nodded in agreement.

By the time night fell, everyone was pleasantly tired. The campfire crackled as the flames danced, illuminating the circle of your friends' faces with a soft glow. You wrapped yourself in your blanket, the chill of the night air seeping in but held at bay by the fire's warmth.

“Well, I think that was enough adventure for one trip,” Wooyoung said with a yawn, stretching his arms overhead.

“Yeah, no more creepy castles for me,” Jiwon added, rubbing her arms as if she could still feel the cold draft of the castle's hallways.

As the conversation lulled, the stars appeared one by one in the clear sky above. Exhaustion from the day's excitement began to settle over everyone, and soon enough, one by one, your friends slipped off to their tents.

You watched the fire die down, the embers glowing faintly as the world around you grew quiet. The rustling of the wind in the trees and the soft chirping of distant crickets became the only sounds. After a few moments, you finally stood up, feeling the weight of sleep tugging at you as well.

“Time for bed,” you whispered to yourself, pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders as you headed toward your tent.

Once inside, you unrolled your sleeping bag, the familiar scent of the forest around you somehow comforting. You glanced around, hearing the faint movements of your friends as they, too, settled in for the night.

Lying down, you shifted into a comfortable position, letting the soothing sounds of the forest wash over you. Your eyes grew heavy as you listened to the distant hooting of an owl, its call echoing through the trees. The peace of the camp surrounded you, and with a long sigh, you allowed yourself to drift into sleep.

But as you slipped further into unconsciousness, a cold breeze seemed to sweep through the tent, the kind of chill that felt familiar, like the air inside the castle. You stirred slightly, but exhaustion kept you from fully waking. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a flicker of unease crept in, as if something had followed you back from the castle—something unseen, waiting in the shadows.

Yet you didn't open your eyes.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

You woke with a start, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. The sensation of soft, velvet sheets beneath your fingers sent a surge of confusion through you. This wasn’t your tent. This wasn’t the camp.

Sitting up quickly, you glanced around the room, your heart pounding as you took in your surroundings. The room was grand—far too grand. The bed you sat on was enormous, draped in luxurious fabrics with dark, ornate wood framing it. Heavy curtains hung at the tall windows, blocking out all light except for a faint glow filtering through the gaps.

No. No, no, no, your mind screamed.

You were back in the castle.

“How…?” you muttered to yourself, throwing the covers off as you stood, your legs shaking slightly as they hit the cold stone floor. You tried to recall how you got here, but your memory was a blur. The last thing you remembered was falling asleep at the campsite. You had been with your friends, safe beneath the stars.

“What’s going on?” you whispered, your voice echoing in the oppressive silence.

You hurried to the door, your pulse racing as you grabbed the handle and pulled it open. The hallway beyond stretched endlessly, lit only by the faintest light from flickering wall sconces. You stepped out, the cold draft brushing past you, making you shiver.

Each step echoed in the stillness as you walked through the corridor, your footsteps hesitant but driven by a gnawing urgency to understand what was happening. The castle felt different now—more alive, more… aware. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end as though you were being watched.

Then, as you rounded a corner, a sound drifted toward you—soft, haunting, and unmistakable.

A piano.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the melody. It was faint, almost like a whisper carried by the wind, but it was there. A sad, melancholic tune that tugged at your soul. The same piano that stood in the ballroom.

You swallowed hard, feeling an icy chill settle over you. The ballroom. The same room where you and your friends had explored earlier, where you had seen the bats and felt the castle's lingering presence.

The sound grew louder as you followed it, your body moving almost of its own accord as you passed through familiar hallways, each one more ominous than the last, until you reached the massive double doors of the ballroom.

The haunting melody played on, drawing you closer.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open, the creak of the hinges echoing through the cavernous room. Inside, the ballroom was just as you remembered, but something was different. The light was dim, casting long shadows across the floor, and in the center of the room, sitting at the grand piano, was a figure.

They were cloaked in darkness, their form barely visible in the faint light, but their hands moved gracefully over the keys, producing the haunting melody that had lured you here.

You took a step forward, your breath catching in your throat as you spoke, your voice shaky. “Hello?”

The figure didn’t respond, continuing to play as though unaware of your presence. The melody swirled around you, tugging at something deep inside, making your chest tighten with an inexplicable sorrow.

Your feet moved on their own, carrying you closer until you stood at the edge of the ballroom floor, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows over the room. The figure finally stopped playing, their hands resting on the keys.

In the silence that followed, you felt the weight of their gaze, though you couldn’t see their face clearly.

“Why… why am I here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, but the question hung in the air like a plea.

The figure slowly rose from the bench, the shadows clinging to them like a second skin. Then the figure turned slowly toward you, stepping fully into the faint light, and you froze in place, caught off guard by the sheer intensity of his presence. He was tall, much taller than you had imagined, his long black cloak accentuating his height and flowing gracefully with his every movement. The shadows seemed to cling to him like they belonged to him.

His pale skin contrasted starkly with his dark hair, which framed his sharp, otherworldly features. His face was elegant yet unnerving, the kind of beauty that both mesmerized and unsettled. His strong, defined jawline and sharp nose gave his face an aristocratic appearance, while a few faint moles dotted his otherwise perfect complexion. His thick, dark eyebrows added a commanding intensity to his gaze, one that made it hard to look away.

But it was his eyes that held you captive—piercing and gleaming like two pools of silver, reflecting the faint light in a way that felt almost inhuman. They stared at you with an unnerving intensity, as though they could see through you, past the surface, into the deepest parts of your soul.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, slow and deliberate, as though he found some silent amusement in your reaction. His presence was overwhelming, like the very air in the room shifted to accommodate his power. You could feel it, a heavy, ancient energy that radiated from him, seeping into the space between you.

"You are not afraid," he said, his voice smooth and low, carrying an almost hypnotic quality. He took another step closer, and your pulse quickened, though your feet remained rooted in place. "Curious, perhaps… but not afraid."

His words sent a chill down your spine, but you couldn’t bring yourself to back away. His beauty was haunting, but there was something dangerous beneath it, something ancient and powerful. The way he moved, the way he looked at you—it was as if he had all the time in the world, as if he had been waiting for you specifically.

“Who are you?” you managed to ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

He didn’t answer immediately, his intense gaze never leaving yours. Instead, he reached out slowly, his pale fingers brushing against a lock of your hair, almost tenderly. His touch was cold, but the gesture felt oddly intimate.

"You will know soon enough," he whispered, his voice like velvet, wrapping around you. "But for now, consider yourself… a guest."

The way he said it made your stomach twist. A guest in this castle, or something else entirely? You weren’t sure you wanted to find out.

A sudden caw echoed through the room, piercing the tension like a knife. The raven from earlier swooped down through the open window, its wings flapping as it landed on the ledge. His attention shifted, his cold, gleaming eyes breaking away from yours for just a moment.

It was enough.

The spell that had held you frozen broke, and you gasped for breath, your body suddenly free to move. Without thinking, you turned on your heel and ran, the sound of your heartbeat roaring in your ears. Your legs moved as fast as they could, carrying you toward the ballroom doors, your only thought to escape.

But just as you were within reach of the exit, the heavy wooden doors slammed shut with a thunderous boom. The impact left the room in total darkness, as though the very light had been snuffed out by some unseen force.

A scream tore from your throat, but it barely reached your own ears over the rush of adrenaline. Panic surged through your veins as you spun around, desperate to see where he had gone. But the darkness was impenetrable, and where he had stood moments before was now just a void.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you fumbled toward the door, hoping—praying—it would open. But before you could even touch it, you were met with a pair of glowing red eyes, gleaming like embers in the blackness. They were upside down, hanging just inches from your face, and you stumbled backward, your heart nearly stopping.

“You’re not leaving so soon, are you?” His voice was smooth, with an edge of mockery, as if he were disappointed. You could almost hear the smirk in his tone as he added, “It’s impolite to leave without saying goodbye.”

His red eyes bore into you, his tone calm but menacing, and your body reacted before your mind could catch up. You turned and ran again, darting toward any exit, any escape.

"I love it when they run," you heard him say from behind you, his voice almost a purr.

Your heart raced even faster, and you sprinted through the ballroom, past the pillars, through the shadows, your every instinct screaming to get away. The castle was a maze, but you didn’t care. You had to get out, even if it meant throwing yourself blindly into the unknown corridors ahead. The echo of your footsteps was the only sound as you ran, knowing—feeling—that he was right behind you, enjoying every second of your terror.

As you ran through the dark, twisting corridors of the castle, his voice seemed to follow you, wrapping around your thoughts like a cold fog. It wasn’t loud—it was more like an echo, a taunting whisper in your ears, weaving in and out of your mind, always there no matter how far or fast you ran.

"You think you can escape?" his voice purred, teasing, as though the chase amused him. "There is no escape from me. Not here."

Your breaths came in short, desperate gasps as you darted down another hallway, your legs burning with every frantic step. His presence loomed behind you, unseen but felt, a shadow just out of reach. You could hear his low chuckle, an infuriating sound that sent chills down your spine.

"I could catch you any time I wanted," he said, the words floating around you like smoke. "But this… this is so much more entertaining."

Your heart hammered wildly in your chest, the thudding of your pulse so loud you were sure he could hear it. His voice was so close now, almost like he was whispering directly into your ear.

"I can hear it, you know. Your heart," he murmured, the satisfaction clear in his tone. "It’s beating so fast. So wild. I can feel your blood thrumming beneath your skin, calling to me. So sweet, so tempting."

The way he spoke about your heartbeat, your blood—it made your skin crawl. You turned another corner, stumbling slightly as your fear overtook you, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

"You’ll end up in my arms eventually," he continued, his voice velvet-smooth and filled with certainty. "Why fight it? You're running in circles, and we both know how this ends."

You pushed yourself harder, the overwhelming dread threatening to consume you. His voice wrapped tighter around your mind, mocking, as if he knew every thought, every fear coursing through you.

"And to think," he said, his voice dripping with amusement, "you didn’t even believe. You scoffed at the idea of my kind, so sure of yourself. So sure it was all just folklore."

He laughed then, a soft, mocking sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Now look at you—running from the very thing you denied. How ironic."

Tears stung your eyes, not from pain, but from the sheer helplessness of the situation. His presence felt suffocating, growing stronger with every passing second. You could feel him behind you, his gaze like a predator's, tracking your every move, savoring the chase.

You kept running, but in the pit of your stomach, you knew he was right. This was his game, and he was in complete control. The vampire wasn’t just toying with you; he was savoring your terror.

You suddenly skidded to a halt, your chest heaving as you stared ahead. A dead end.

Panic surged through you, your heart racing faster than before. You turned, pressing your back against the cold stone wall, eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of him. But there was nothing. The hallway behind you was empty, silent except for the faint echo of your ragged breathing. Yet, you knew he was there. Somewhere in the shadows, waiting, watching.

Your breath hitched as your fingers brushed against the stone at your back, searching for any way out, any escape from this nightmare. Just then, you felt something—a click beneath your palm. You barely had time to register what it was before the wall behind you shifted.

With a sudden jolt, the stone gave way, and you let out a small noise of surprise as you stumbled backward. The floor beneath your feet disappeared, and before you could react, you were sliding—falling into darkness as the wall sealed shut above you.

The stone passage gave way to a steep, slick tunnel, and you slid down fast, the air rushing past you as the world blurred around you. Your heart pounded in your chest, your hands grasping at the smooth, unforgiving surface as you tumbled deeper into the unknown. There was no way to stop yourself, no way to control the rapid descent.

The tunnel twisted and turned, and you had no idea where it led—or if it would ever end. All you knew was that it was taking you farther from him, away from the overwhelming presence that had haunted you. But at what cost?

After what felt like an eternity, the tunnel spit you out onto a hard, damp floor. You gasped, the impact knocking the wind from your lungs as you lay there, disoriented, the cold seeping through your clothes. The room you found yourself in was dimly lit by torches mounted on ancient stone walls, the flickering light casting long shadows. It looked like an underground chamber, far beneath the castle.

For a moment, you just lay there, catching your breath, trying to process what had just happened. You’d escaped—at least for now. But as the adrenaline began to fade, the terror settled in once more. You had no idea where you were, no idea how deep into the castle you had fallen.

And no idea if he was still following you.

You pulled yourself up onto shaky legs, looking around the chamber, your eyes catching on a doorway at the far end. It seemed to lead further into the labyrinth beneath the castle. You swallowed hard, a sense of foreboding settling in your gut. But you couldn’t stay here. You had to move, to keep going, even if it meant diving deeper into this strange, twisted place.

You glanced behind you, half-expecting to see those glowing red eyes emerge from the shadows. But for now, there was only silence.

You pushed yourself foward, your legs trembling as you forced them to move. Every step felt heavy, the fear still gripping you like a vice. The chamber stretched out ahead of you, dim and eerie, the flickering torchlight casting long, dancing shadows across the stone walls.

You hesitated at the doorway, staring into the hallway beyond, a narrow passage lined with more rooms, each one giving off an air of something long-forgotten. You swallowed hard, the silence around you oppressive, and took a tentative step forward.

The first room you passed was small, the door slightly ajar. Curiosity mixed with dread as you nudged it open further, revealing its contents. In the center of the room sat a single coffin, its lid partially cracked open, the heavy wood creaking under its own weight. Your breath hitched as you moved closer, half-expecting something to leap out from within.

But it was empty.

Just an old, decaying coffin, its insides lined with faded velvet. You backed away slowly, glancing over your shoulder as you left the room behind, hoping that whatever had been inside had long since departed.

As you moved further down the passage, you found another room. This one was larger, the door hanging loosely from its hinges. The coffin here was fully closed, the surface covered in a thick layer of dust. You stepped inside, your footsteps echoing in the stillness as you circled it, unease prickling at the back of your neck. Something about this room felt different—heavier, somehow. But when you finally gathered the nerve to push the coffin lid open, you found it empty too.

One by one, you passed through room after room, each holding a coffin at its center. Some were open, revealing nothing but darkness inside. Others were sealed tight, but there was no sign of life—or unlife—in any of them. The further you went, the more the rooms began to blur together, all holding the same macabre centerpiece. The coffins, despite their ominous presence, seemed abandoned.

But why?

You shuddered, the silence pressing in around you like a weight, each breath you took feeling like a strain. This place wasn’t just old—it was ancient, steeped in something far darker than time. You couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn’t a mere crypt. It felt like a lair.

And if these coffins were empty… where were their inhabitants now?

The question sent a chill down your spine, and you quickened your pace, moving from room to room, hoping to find an exit, an escape from this twisted place. But the longer you wandered through the labyrinth of coffins, the more you felt the walls closing in on you.

As you reached the end of the hallway, your breath shallow and your nerves on edge, you hesitated in front of the final door. The wood was polished, untouched by time or decay, standing in stark contrast to the worn stone and dilapidated coffins behind you. Something about this door felt different—almost inviting, as if it didn’t belong in the same world as the crypt-like rooms you had passed through.

Slowly, you reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

What you found on the other side left you momentarily speechless. It wasn’t the cold, dark chamber you had expected. Instead, you stepped into a room that felt strangely… warm. Cozy, even. The scent of aged wood and faint traces of smoke from long-dead fires hung in the air, and the soft glow from several lamps bathed the room in a golden light.

The room was well-kept, utterly free from the dust and decay that plagued the rest of the castle. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound tomes that looked like they had been carefully preserved over centuries. Plush couches and chairs were scattered around the room, their rich, dark fabrics pristine as if waiting for guests to arrive. Empty fireplaces dotted the walls, their mantels adorned with intricate carvings and relics. The ambiance was one of strange elegance and a sense of deep history.

But what caught your attention most were the portraits hanging on the walls. You walked closer, your eyes widening in recognition. The first painting was of the man, tall and regal, with the same otherworldly beauty as you had encountered in the ballroom. His dark hair fell in loose waves around his face, and though he appeared younger in the portrait, his eyes—the same piercing gaze you had locked eyes with earlier—remained the same. Cold. Intense.

Your breath hitched as you moved to the next painting. It was him again, this time standing beside another figure who looked similar in appearance, though this person’s features were softer, less severe. They were younger here, almost ageless, but there was a darkness in their eyes that hadn’t been captured in the earlier portraits.

You continued down the line of paintings, each depicting moments from what must have been his life—or rather, his existence. In some, he stood alone in grand ballrooms or ancient forests, always with that same commanding presence. In others, he was surrounded by people, but their faces were blurred, as if time had erased their significance.

Every painting radiated an unsettling energy, and with each new portrait, you felt the weight of his presence grow stronger. It was as though he had always been here, lurking in the shadows of the castle for centuries, waiting.

And now you were in his domain.

You took a shaky step back, your mind racing. The man you had met wasn’t just some passing phantom—he was something much older. The fact that this room looked so well-preserved while the rest of the castle crumbled around it told you that it was special, important. This was his space, and you had wandered right into it.

A creeping sense of dread settled in your chest as you glanced at the portrait once more. His eyes, even from the canvas, seemed to watch your every move, as though he was still there, lurking just out of sight.

As you continued to absorb the enchanting yet unsettling atmosphere of the cozy room, your eyes fell on the books lining the shelves. They were a mix of titles, but one caught your attention—a familiar spine adorned with elegant lettering. It was a book you had read long ago, a tale of forbidden love between a human and a vampire, steeped in tragedy and longing.

You approached the shelf, your heart racing. The book felt almost like a beacon, calling out to you. With trembling hands, you reached for it, pulling it gently from its place. As you did, a soft click echoed through the room, causing you to pause mid-motion. Your breath hitched as the shelf shifted slightly, revealing a narrow gap—a hidden door.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. A secret passageway? Without a second thought, you placed the book down on one of the couches, your heart pounding with anticipation. Slipping behind the shelf, you squeezed through the narrow opening, the air cooler as you entered the darkness of the hidden hallway.

The passage was dimly lit, the walls lined with rough stone, and you moved quickly, driven by a sense of urgency. You had no idea how long you had before the vampire would realize you were gone. The hallway twisted and turned, each step echoing in the silence, leading you deeper into the bowels of the castle.

Finally, you reached the end of the corridor, where a hatch stood ajar, the faint light of the moon spilling in through the crack. Your heart raced as you climbed up, pushing the hatch open and crawling through. As you emerged, the cool night air hit your face like a breath of fresh freedom.

You blinked against the brightness, taking in your surroundings. You were in a courtyard, the stars twinkling above like a million tiny lanterns. The space was overgrown with wildflowers and tangled vines, the stone walls of the castle looming high around you. It was eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that hinted at secrets lingering in the shadows.

You took a moment to catch your breath, relief flooding through you. You had escaped! But as you stood there, taking in the beauty of the courtyard, you couldn't shake the feeling that you weren’t entirely safe yet. The castle was alive with its own history, and you were still very much a part of it.

Then, just as you were about to make your way toward an exit, you heard it—a faint rustling behind you. Instinctively, you turned, heart pounding as you scanned the area. The shadows danced, and for a brief moment, you thought you caught a glimpse of dark hair and those hauntingly bright eyes among the foliage.

Your breath caught in your throat.

It was him.

“Where are you going?” His voice drifted through the air, smooth and inviting, yet laced with an undercurrent of danger.

You felt the urge to run again, to flee into the night, but your legs felt like lead. You were trapped in a moment where fear and curiosity collided, and there he was, stepping out from the shadows, a smirk playing on his lips, an ethereal figure framed by the moonlight.

You backed away, your heart racing as he stepped closer, closing the distance between you with an unsettling grace. The night air felt charged, and you could almost feel the heat radiating off him, drawing you in even as every instinct told you to flee.

You averted your gaze, focusing instead on the tangled vines and wildflowers at your feet, determined not to meet his intense stare. His presence was overwhelming, and you felt like a moth drawn to a flame, teetering on the edge of danger.

He chuckled softly, the sound smooth and velvety, cutting through the stillness of the courtyard. “Oh, my sweet,” he purred, his voice low and mesmerizing. “Why are you avoiding me? I can see you trying not to look into my eyes, and I must admit, I would love to see your beautiful eyes.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, a mix of fear and something else—a strange, inexplicable allure. He took another step forward, his gaze locking onto you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. “I want to see all of you,” he continued, his voice almost a whisper, beckoning you to look at him.

For a fleeting moment, you felt the pull of his words, the way they wrapped around you like a silken thread. But you held strong, forcing yourself to look away. You focused on the distant trees lining the edge of the courtyard, the moonlight casting long shadows that felt like barriers between you and him.

“Come now,” he teased, his tone playful yet dripping with a seductive edge. “Don’t you want to see me too? It’s only fair, isn’t it?”

His words curled around you, tempting you to relent, to give in to that magnetic pull. But you steeled yourself, clenching your fists at your sides. “I don’t believe in vampires,” you whispered, even though the words felt hollow.

“Is that so?” His voice took on a mocking lilt, though there was an undeniable intrigue beneath it. “And yet, here you are, in my courtyard, speaking to me. Perhaps you should reconsider your beliefs.”

You took another step back, your mind racing. “I don’t want to be here,” you replied, desperation creeping into your voice. “I need to leave.”

His expression shifted, the playful demeanor slipping slightly, replaced with something darker, more serious. “You think you can just run away from me?”

The challenge hung heavy in the air. He stepped forward again, and you felt a spark of panic. But instead of fleeing, you summoned your courage and stood your ground. “I’m not afraid of you,” you declared, even as uncertainty gripped you.

“Not afraid?” he echoed, tilting his head, eyes glimmering with mischief. “Then why do you tremble? Why does your heart beat so fast, as if it's dancing to a rhythm only I can hear?”

You felt your heart racing, pulse pounding in your ears. But still, you refused to look him in the eye. “Because I know what you are,” you replied, trying to sound steady despite the tremor in your voice.

His lips curved into a slow, wicked smile, and he stepped even closer, closing the gap until you could feel the coldness radiating from him. “Then you should know that running only makes it more exciting. The chase is always the best part.”

Your heart raced faster at his words, and as you felt the pull of his gaze, you realized how dangerous this game truly was. You were caught between the urge to run and the undeniable allure of the dark figure before you, each moment stretching out like an eternity.

Before you could react, he zoomed toward you, his movements blurring in the dim light. In an instant, he grasped your waist and pulled you into a whirlwind dance, swirling you around the courtyard. The force of his embrace was intoxicating, and you found you couldn’t break free from his grip, caught in a dizzying mix of fear and exhilaration as you spun beneath the gaze of the dark figure before you.

In an instant, he wrapped his strong arms around you, lifting you effortlessly off the ground. Panic surged through you as he flew into the night sky, the wind whipping around you like a storm.

You screamed, gripping his cloak tightly, your heart racing as the ground fell away beneath you. “What are you doing?!” you yelled, your voice lost in the rush of the wind.

He only laughed, a low, melodic sound that echoed through the air. “Relax, I won’t drop you!” he teased, spinning you around in midair. His cloak unfurled behind him like dark wings, creating a mesmerizing display against the moonlit sky.

Your stomach dropped as he twirled you around, the world below a dizzying blur. Fear mingled with exhilaration, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “You’re insane!” you shouted.

Just as you thought you might lose your nerve, he began to descend, spiraling down closer to the ground. Seizing the moment, you slipped out of his grasp, landing roughly on your feet. You stumbled but quickly regained your balance, glancing up to find surprise etched across his face. He hadn’t expected you to break free so easily.

Without a second thought, you turned and ran, bolting toward the open door of the castle. Your heart raced as adrenaline coursed through your veins, your instincts screaming at you to get away.

“Round two then…” you heard him murmur, his tone thrilled, as he followed after you. There was no rush in his movements; he glided toward you with an unsettling calmness, as if he was toying with you rather than truly trying to catch you.

You dashed back into the castle, the cool air of the interior hitting you like a wave as you ducked through the doorway. You could hear him behind you, a predator enjoying the chase. The thrill of the hunt invigorated him, and you knew he was reveling in every moment.

You sprinted down the familiar hallways, weaving in and out of rooms as you sought a place to hide or a way to escape. Your mind raced, frantically considering your options, while the echo of his laughter followed you like a shadow.

“Come now,” he called playfully, his voice echoing off the walls. “You can’t run forever.”

His words sent a chill down your spine, and you pushed yourself harder, dodging into a nearby room. You quickly glanced around, noting the furnishings and the looming shadows. It was another beautifully decorated room, but the ominous atmosphere made it feel like a trap.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you ducked behind a large armoire, the wood cool against your back. You listened intently, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the hall as he approached. The anticipation sent your heart racing again, each thud echoing louder in your ears.

“Where are you hiding?” he called out, a hint of amusement in his tone. “You can’t hide forever."

You swallowed hard, peering around the edge of the armoire. The room was dim, shadows flickering in the corners, but you couldn’t see him yet. The tension was palpable, and as you prepared to make another move, you felt the cold chill of his presence creeping closer.

“I can smell your fear,” he teased, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “It’s intoxicating.”

His voice echoed through the dim room, weaving around you like a silken thread. “Oh, come on now. You know it’s no fun if you don’t try to make it interesting,” he taunted, the amusement clear in his tone. You felt a rush of heat rise to your cheeks as your heart raced, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You knew you had to stay focused, but something compelled you to look up. As your gaze traveled upward, your breath caught in your throat. There he was, hanging upside down from the ceiling like a bat, his striking red eyes fixed on you with a intense gleam. The sight was both mesmerizing and terrifying, and your instincts screamed at you to run.

Before you could react, he dropped down gracefully, landing silently beside you. The world spun as darkness enveloped you, and you felt yourself slipping away, consciousness fading into oblivion.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

When you came to, the softness of a couch enveloped you, and you blinked against the dim light filtering through the room. The walls were adorned with rich, dark fabrics, giving the space an opulent yet eerie feel. Confusion washed over you as you took in your surroundings, noting the closed black coffin positioned ominously beside the couch and the door, which appeared solid and unyielding.

You stood up groggily, the remnants of sleep still clouding your mind. Shaking off the dizziness, you staggered toward the door, hoping to escape, but it wouldn’t budge under your hands. You shoved against it with all your strength, but it remained stubbornly closed. “No, no, no…” you murmured, fear rising like bile in your throat.

Turning away from the door, you focused on the coffin, a sense of dread washing over you. It was beautifully crafted, the wood polished to a dark sheen that seemed to absorb the light. You stepped closer, your heart thudding in your chest with each cautious footfall. The atmosphere was thick with an unsettling energy, and you felt drawn to it against your better judgment.

Your fingers brushed against the cool surface of the coffin, and you hesitated, breath hitching. Should you open it? Even if every instinct told you to turn away, to flee, but curiosity gnawed at you, urging you to find out what lay within.

Taking a deep breath, you grasped the lid, feeling the smooth, cold wood beneath your fingers. With a steadying exhale, you began to lift it, the creaking hinges sounding like a whisper in the silence. As the lid opened, darkness greeted you from within, a chill creeping into the room.

Before you could fully comprehend what you were seeing, an icy hand shot out from within the coffin, wrapping around your arm with a grip like iron. You gasped and stumbled back, your heart racing as he emerged from the coffin, his face inches from yours.

He looked just as otherworldly as before, with his pale skin and sharp features accentuated in the dim light. His dark hair framed his face, and his crimson eyes locked onto yours, gleaming with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, a smirk playing on his lips.

You recoiled instinctively, yanking your arm away from his grip, but he only laughed softly, the sound echoing eerily in the enclosed space. “You shouldn’t be so scared,” he continued, tilting his head as if studying you.

“What do you want from me?” you demanded, trying to sound braver than you felt.

He leaned closer, his expression shifting to one of genuine curiosity. “You’re fascinating, really. So full of life, and yet you came all the way into my domain, challenging everything you thought you knew.”

“Let me go,” you pleaded, glancing nervously at the closed door. “I didn’t ask to be here!”

“Oh, but you’re exactly where you’re meant to be,” he replied, his tone dripping with an unsettling calmness.

As he climbed out of the coffin, his movements were fluid and graceful, almost predatory. You instinctively took a step back, your heart racing as he approached. The air around him felt charged, and the darkness of the room seemed to pulse with his energy.

He stepped closer, his eyes locked onto yours, a hungry glint flickering in their depths. “You smell absolutely divine,” he murmured, a fanged smile stretching across his lips. “I can only imagine how sweet your blood would taste.”

You backed away instinctively, but soon you felt the cold, unforgiving wall pressing against your back, trapping you. There was no escape, and the realization sent a wave of dread crashing over you. Before you could think of a plan, he closed the distance, pulling you tightly against him.

His grip was unyielding, and panic surged within you as you struggled against his hold. “Let me go!” you gasped, twisting in his grasp, but he only tsked, shaking his head slowly.

“Oh, but you’re mine now,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

With a swift motion, he leaned in, his lips barely grazing your neck. You could feel his cold breath against your skin, and it sent shivers down your spine. The sensation was both terrifying and strangely exhilarating. You instinctively wiggled free, but he only tightened his grip, his fingers like iron around your waist.

“I will earn my fill now that I have you,” he continued, his voice dripping with dark delight. “You’re trapped, sweet creature. You don’t stand a chance against me. I could sense you the moment you stepped foot into my castle.”

His gaze was intense, a mix of hunger and fascination, and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his words. “You’ve been claimed ever since you entered my domain,” he said, his smirk growing wider. “You’re mine, and there’s no escaping that.”

The world around you felt like it was closing in, the reality of your situation dawning on you like a heavy fog. He was not just a vampire; he was a predator, and you were his prey. Your heart raced, pounding loudly in your chest, and you could almost hear it echoing in the stillness of the room.

“Please,” you breathed, trying to regain some semblance of control. “You don’t have to do this. Just let me go.”

He chuckled softly, leaning closer until his mouth hovered just above your skin. “But why would I? This is the most fun I’ve had in centuries.”

The way he said it sent a chill through you. It was a thrill for him, a game, and the realization sank deep into your bones. You could feel his cold, sharp fangs grazing your neck, teasingly close, and a rush of fear mixed with an unsettling curiosity washed over you.

He pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, an intense gaze that seemed to see right through you. “Don’t be coy,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry. “I can sense what you really feel in your heart.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you stammered, pushing against him, your hands resting on his chest. The silk of his blouse felt cool against your skin, and the cold seeped through to your fingertips, but what sent a shiver down your spine was the absence of a heartbeat beneath your palms.

As he registered the shock on your face, he grinned wider, revealing his glinting fangs. “What did you expect?” he asked, his tone playful yet dark. “I’m an undead creature of the night, after all.”

His words sent another wave of fear coursing through you, yet the thrill of his presence was undeniable. You were teetering on the edge, caught between the instinct to flee and the inexplicable pull that drew you closer to him.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice a dark caress. “I won’t take more than you can give. For now, let’s just enjoy the moment.”

He leaned in, his lips nearly brushing against yours, the proximity igniting a fire within you that both terrified and thrilled. Just as you felt the magnetic pull to close the distance, you instinctively pulled back, breaking the tension.

He chuckled softly, a low, melodic sound that resonated in the air between you, as if he found your hesitation amusing. “Aren’t you curious?” he teased, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

You felt your resolve faltering, caught between terror and the strange allure of the unknown. Your instincts screamed at you to flee, yet part of you was mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze. You were lost in a battle of wills, and as he held you there, you couldn’t help but wonder what this encounter would truly mean.

He leaned in close again, his breath cool against your skin as he teased you, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “You’re so captivating,” he murmured, his fingers dancing along your arm, caressing you with a gentleness that belied the danger he posed. “It’s almost a shame that I have to take you like this.”

As his gaze bore into you, something within began to unravel. You felt your defenses crumbling, the tension in your body slowly ebbing away under his intense scrutiny. It was terrifying to feel yourself succumbing, yet the more he spoke, the more you felt that fear dissipate. “That’s it… give in,” he whispered, his voice sultry and low, as he gently tilted your head to the side, exposing your neck.

Your heart raced, anticipation mingling with dread, as he opened his mouth, revealing his elongated fangs gleaming in the dim light. The sight sent a thrill of both terror and unexpected excitement coursing through you.

Before you could protest, he bit down, sharp pain piercing through your skin but quickly melting into a rush of pleasure that took you completely by surprise. A gasp escaped your lips, followed by a soft whine as he began to suck your blood greedily, drawing it from you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

Your body slackened in his hold, your strength fading as he continued to feast. You felt a wave of warmth wash over you, a sensation so intoxicating that it rendered you breathless. Your hands barely clutched at the fabric of his black blouse, a feeble attempt to ground yourself, yet it felt as if every rational thought was slipping away with each heartbeat.

All you could hear was the soft sound of him huffing and groaning, as if he were savoring a fine delicacy. The sensation was overwhelming, a blend of pleasure and danger that left you lightheaded.

“Delicious,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

Every pull of his lips made you feel both exhilarated and vulnerable, the world around you fading into nothingness as he consumed you. You had crossed a threshold, stepping into a realm where fear mingled with desire, and it was intoxicating.

As the edges of your consciousness began to blur, you found yourself surrendering to the moment. You could feel him pulling more from you, but it no longer felt like a threat. Instead, it felt like a dark embrace, one that wrapped around you and pulled you deeper into his allure. The fear you once had started to dissipate, replaced by an unexpected yearning, and all you could think was how surreal it felt to be in his grasp—his captive.

When he finally pulled back, your vision swam for a moment, the world around you fading into a soft haze. The room swirled, edges blurring as you struggled to grasp what had just happened. He lingered close, his breath cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth that still radiated from where he had bitten you. You caught a glimpse of his lips, stained crimson with your blood, and the sight was both horrifying and oddly mesmerizing.

“Can’t waste a single drop of your blood,” he purred, his voice a low, seductive whisper that wrapped around you like silk, each word tinged with a lingering hunger. The intensity of his gaze held you captive, drawing you into the depths of his eyes—dark pools filled with an unsettling mixture of desire and something deeper.

As he leaned in closer, you noticed his long fangs retracting slowly, almost reluctantly, until they returned to their normal size. It was a strange sight, watching the sharpness dissolve into a more human form, yet the danger remained palpable. His smile, revealing just enough of those once-fearsome fangs, only added to the allure, a reminder of what he was capable of.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine. “The way your blood flows, so rich and warm. You can’t deny the connection we share, can you?” He moved even closer, brushing a cold finger along your jawline, his touch electric against your skin.

You watched his eyes, captivated by the way they shimmered with something that felt almost tender. “You’re special,” he continued, his voice a soft caress.

As he neared, you could feel the subtle pull of his presence, an intoxicating mix of danger and allure. He tilted his head slightly, his dark hair brushing against your cheek, and his gaze flickered down to the bite mark on your neck. The anticipation made your breath hitch as he moved with a deliberate slowness, almost savoring the moment.

Then, with a soft, teasing smile, he leaned in, his lips hovering just above your skin. You could feel the chill radiating from him, mingling with the warmth of your own blood. He extended his tongue, the tip just barely brushing against the puncture wound, and a gasp escaped your lips.

“Such a sweet taste,” he murmured, his voice a husky caress. He began to lick the remnants of your blood from your neck, his tongue gliding smoothly over your skin, each stroke sending shivers racing down your spine. The sensation was electric, a mix of pleasure and fear that left you breathless.

“You did so well,” he complimented, his voice a gentle caress. “You’re absolutely delicious.” The warmth in his tone made your heart race, a mixture of exhilaration and vulnerability flooding your senses.

He wore a soft smile, an expression that contrasted sharply with the predatory nature he had just displayed. “Now, you should sleep,” he said, his words wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Before you could respond, you felt an overwhelming wave of drowsiness crash over you, your eyelids growing heavy. The world around you blurred again, the shadows of the room fading as you succumbed to the enveloping darkness.

Just as you slipped into the depths of sleep, you heard him whisper one last thing: “Rest, my sweet.”

The last remnants of your consciousness faded away, leaving you with the warmth of his presence lingering in your mind, a mix of fear and something akin to longing swirling within you as you drifted into a dreamless slumber.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

When you finally woke up, the soft light of the morning sun filtered through the fabric of your tent, casting warm patterns across your sleeping bag. You sat up slowly, a sharp jolt of pain and lingering pleasure coursing through your body, making you gasp.

Grabbing your phone from your bag, you opened the camera app and hesitated for a moment, dread settling in your stomach. With a shaky breath, you turned the camera toward your neck, revealing two distinct puncture wounds where fangs had sunk into your skin. They weren’t bleeding, at least, but they were tender and very sore, a painful reminder of the night you had just endured.

Groaning softly, you covered the marks with the collar of your hoodie, hoping to hide the evidence of your encounter. You took a moment to gather yourself, shaking off the disorienting feelings that clouded your mind. Somehow, you felt a strange urge to keep it to yourself, a compulsion that tightened your throat. You couldn’t tell them. You physically couldn’t.

Taking a deep breath, you unzipped the tent and stepped outside, greeted by the crisp morning air and the sounds of your friends bustling around the campsite. They were in high spirits, joking and laughing as they packed up their gear, blissfully unaware of the turmoil brewing inside you.

“Hey, sleepyhead! You finally up?” Ji-won called, her voice cheerful and light. You managed a smile, forcing yourself to blend in with their laughter, the normalcy of the moment clashing violently with the chaos in your mind.

“Yeah, just needed a little extra rest,” you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. You helped your friends pack the car, moving through the motions mechanically, but every time someone brushed against your shoulder or joked about the trip, you felt a pang of guilt twist in your stomach.

This was it - you were leaving the forest.

You climbed into the car, the familiar sights of trees and trails began to fade into the background, replaced by the hum of the engine and the chatter of your friends.

But the beauty of the forest was lost on you now, overshadowed by the memory of the castle and the enigmatic figure that haunted your thoughts. The drive back to the city felt interminable, a blur of colors and sounds that felt distant and unreal.

As you gazed out the window, the world sped by, but inside, time stood still. You wondered what would happen next, the memory of his voice echoing in your mind.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

The days after returning from the forest blurred into a haze of mundane life. You went through the motions—work, meals, interactions with friends—yet your mind often drifted back to him. It was absurd, really. You didn’t even know his name. He was a vampire for Christ’s sake! He had kidnapped you, hunted you down and sucked your blood. Logic screamed that it should be over. You should be relieved, grateful even. But instead, you found yourself longing for the very presence that had terrified you.

As you watched the bite heal over the following days, the hollow feeling in your chest only deepened. It was maddening to crave someone who had brought you so much fear, but you couldn’t help it. You missed the thrill of his presence, the way he had made you feel—alive and desired in a way that was intoxicatingly dangerous.

Finally, one restless night, you’d had enough. You packed a small bag with essentials—nothing too much, just enough for a quick escape. As you walked to your car, the cool air brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You glanced up at the star-speckled sky, letting the weight of your decision settle in. This was it; you were going back to find him, to confront whatever feelings you had buried deep inside.

Just then, you heard it—the soft but unmistakable sound of flapping wings. You squinted into the darkness, and to your shock, a large bat soared toward you, silhouetted against the moonlight. Your heart raced as the creature approached, growing larger and larger until it was right above you.

In an instant, the bat transformed, wings sweeping down as if caught in an invisible breeze. The dark silhouette shifted, the outline of the creature expanding and elongating until, with a graceful flourish, the wings folded and melted into the fabric of a dark cloak. It billowed around him, framing his tall, imposing figure as he stood before you in all his otherworldly glory.

His transformation was mesmerizing, each movement fluid and enchanting, as though he were a figure drawn from the pages of an ancient tale. The bat's fur receded, revealing smooth, pale skin, and his elongated face morphed into the man—sharp features emerging from the shadows.

When he fully materialized before you, his eyes, shimmering silver and reminiscent of the moonlit night, locked onto yours with an intensity that stole your breath. Those mesmerizing orbs held a depth that beckoned you closer, promising untold secrets and dark delights.

As he stepped forward, the cloak fluttered lightly around him, accentuating his tall, imposing frame. His movements were deliberate and graceful, as though he were still part of the night air, gliding instead of walking.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, his voice a low murmur. Before you could reply, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms, his hold both possessive and comforting. “I couldn’t bear to be away from you. This desire, this need to be close to you—it snapped the moment you left.”

Your heart raced, a mixture of fear and exhilaration coursing through you as you gazed up at him. “I felt the same,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess them. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

A smile broke across his face, radiant and wicked, lighting up his features in the moonlight. “Then let’s not waste another moment.” He leaned down, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that was deep, hungry, and filled with all the longing you both had kept at bay.

As his mouth moved against yours, you melted into him, your earlier fears dissolving into a warmth that spread through your entire being. You were no longer just a scared girl standing in the dark; you were alive and desired.

You pulled back slightly from the kiss, still feeling the lingering heat of his lips against yours. “I didn’t think you would come,” you admitted, your heart racing from the intensity of the moment.

His gaze softened, and he brushed a thumb against your cheek. “You were meant for me,” he said, the certainty in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Long before we even met.”

Before you could respond, he lifted you effortlessly into his arms, and with a powerful thrust, he soared into the night sky. The wind whipped around you, and you gasped in a mix of exhilaration and fear as he held you tightly against him, his body a solid anchor. Below, the forest shrank away, and soon, the familiar silhouette of the castle emerged from the darkness.

He landed gracefully at the entrance, setting you down with a gentleness that belied his strength. You glanced around, awe washing over you as he led you inside. The castle felt alive, its ancient stones thrumming with an energy that pulsed in time with your heartbeat.

He guided you through dimly lit hallways until you reached a room at the heart of the castle. It was spacious, adorned with ornate furniture and draped fabrics that whispered tales of the past. The centerpiece of the room was an old portrait hanging on the wall, its colors faded but still striking.

You stepped closer, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the two figures locked in an embrace—lovers entwined as if frozen in time. They looked remarkably similar to you and him, their features hauntingly alike, as if you were gazing into a reflection of your own souls.

“We are destined to be together in every lifetime,” he said softly, his voice resonating with emotion. “Only in this one… you aren’t a vampire like me.”

You turned to him, searching his eyes for understanding. “But why? Why me?”

He stepped closer, cupping your face in his cold hands. “Because you’re the light to my darkness. My existence has always been shadowed, but you… you bring warmth, hope. I couldn’t let you go without fighting for you.”

As you looked into his eyes, the gravity of his words sank in, filling the space between you with an electric tension. You felt an overwhelming connection, as if the universe had conspired to bring you together across time and space.

“I want to understand this,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I want to be with you.”

His expression softened, and he leaned closer, brushing his lips against your forehead. “Then let me show you what it means to be together in this life. We have all the time in the world to explore our love, to create a new destiny.”

He leaned in again, capturing your lips with his in a passionate kiss that sent shivers down your spine. His warmth enveloped you, igniting a fire deep within. You melted into him, lost in the depths of his embrace until he pulled away, his gaze locking onto the bite mark on your neck.

His expression shifted, a mix of hunger and longing in his eyes. “Please,” he whispered, his voice laced with an almost desperate edge. “I need to taste you again. Just a little… I promise it will feel even better this time.”

You felt a rush of excitement and trepidation as he lowered his mouth toward your neck. There was a part of you that wanted to resist, to remember the fear from before, but another part—one that yearned for him—welcomed the idea. You nodded, your breath hitching in your throat as he extended his fangs.

As they grazed your skin, a wave of anticipation coursed through you. He sank his fangs into the tender flesh, and the sensation was electric. A mix of pain and pleasure surged through your body, so much more intense than the first time. You gasped, a soft moan escaping your lips as he drew your blood, his mouth moving with a grace that sent pleasure spiraling through you.

Each pull was deeper, more fervent, and you felt your heart race in response. It was intoxicating, the way he savored every drop, as if you were the sweetest nectar he had ever tasted.

“More,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire. You could feel his cool breath against your neck, heightening the experience as he drank you in, and you willingly surrendered to him. Every fiber of your being hummed with pleasure, and you felt yourself growing weaker, but you didn’t care. You craved this connection, the intensity of being with him.

When he finally pulled back, he looked almost dazed, eyes glinting with satisfaction and desire. “You’re even sweeter than I remembered,” he said, his voice low and husky, stained with your blood.

Your pulse quickened as you met his gaze, the lines between fear and desire blurring with each heartbeat. You realized you were irrevocably drawn to him, a part of you now tethered to his dark world.

“Now,” he continued, brushing his thumb over the bite mark as if to savor the memory, “we are truly connected. You’ve given me a piece of yourself, and now I want to give you everything in return.”

He then licked his lips, a playful glint in his eyes. “I will show you what it means to be loved by a vampire,” he promised, his voice smooth like silk. “I will take such good care of you, and together, I will reveal my world to you.” With each word, he pressed soft kisses along your neck, trailing to your throat, and then finally capturing your lips with his.

As he hovered slightly in the air, cradling you in his arms, you felt an overwhelming sense of trust and desire blooming within you. You nodded, unable to contain the excitement that surged through your veins. “Show me,” you breathed, and he smiled against your lips before taking off toward his room.

The world blurred around you as he flew effortlessly, the castle’s dark beauty rushing by in a haze. Within moments, you found yourselves in his chamber, where an open coffin awaited, its interior lined with dark velvet. He slowly descended, sinking into the coffin with you on top of him, still locked in a fervent embrace.

As he kissed you, his lips peppering your face with soft pecks, he whispered sweet nothings against your skin, his hands gliding down your back, anchoring you to him. “I’ve craved to hold you like this," he murmured, his voice a melodic caress that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.

You melted against him, heart racing. His lips found yours again, melding together in a tender yet passionate dance that left you breathless. But amidst the blissful haze, a question that had burned in your mind resurfaced, demanding to be answered. Pulling back slightly, you gazed into his mesmerizing eyes, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive. “What’s your name?” you asked, your breath hitching slightly as you searched his face for the answer.

“Sunghoon,” he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. The sound of his name rolled off his tongue like a secret whispered in the dark, and you felt a thrill at the intimacy it promised.

Your heart raced as you whispered your name to him, and a knowing smile spread across his lips. “I know,” he said softly, his breath ghosting over your skin as he kissed your wrist with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. It was a sweet, intimate gesture that sent shivers coursing through you, awakening a desire you didn’t fully understand.

“Become my vampire bride,” he said, his gaze intense and brimming with yearning, making you feel like the only person in the world. The weight of his words hung between you like a promise, igniting a deep urge to be close to him, to belong to him entirely. But before you could find the words to respond, he leaned in, pressing his lips to a sensitive spot on your neck. A soft whine escaped your mouth, the sound betraying your excitement and vulnerability.

“Yes,” you gasped, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you. “I want to.”

Sunghoon’s eyes brightened with delight, and he captured your lips again, the kiss deepening as he pulled you closer, his warmth enveloping you. But he didn’t stop there; his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of gentle bites and teasing kisses. Each brush of his lips sent a wave of heat through your body, a rush of pleasure mixed with anticipation that left you breathless.

He nipped and sucked at your skin, his fangs grazing you just enough to send sparks dancing beneath the surface. You could feel the blood pooling just below your skin, and with each kiss, he seemed to coax it forth, drawing it into his eager mouth. The sensations built with every passing moment, the combination of his cold touch and the warmth of your blood leaving you hazy and utterly lost in the moment.

“Please, just a little more,” he groaned, his voice thick with longing as he lavished attention on your neck. The way he suckled at your skin, lapping at the small wounds he’d created, made you gasp and arch into him, your fingers tangling in his dark hair. The sound of your whines intertwined with his groans, creating a echo in the stillness of the room.

With each tender bite, he coaxed forth more of your blood, and the line between pleasure and pain blurred beautifully. You felt as though you were teetering on the edge of something profound, lost in the depths of his dark desire and your own.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

Just outside the window, a raven flapped its wings, its caw slicing through the thick silence of the night. It soared into the star-speckled sky, a dark silhouette against the moonlight. In a flurry of shadowy wings, a horde of bats followed closely behind, darting after the raven toward the depths of the forest.

But inside the dimly lit room, you and Sunghoon were far too consumed in each other to notice the creatures of the night flitting past. His lips were on your skin, painting soft, fevered kisses that left your heart racing and your mind spiraling. He was a whirlwind of dark passion, and you were ensnared in his spell. Every time he pulled back to meet your gaze, his red eyes sparkled with love and hunger.

(Feel free to reblog and like! <3)

[undyinglantern]

noticed a bunch of ghibli films are on hbomax so decided to watch some (had only seen spirited away and ponyo before) and realized i tend to have a common problem with them. the pacing is really awkward, in that it takes too long to get you immersed in the world and characters without much going on and then the climax and especially resolution end up feeling too rushed and unsatisfying

[chuuyrr]

ᡣ𐭩 WE WERE BOTH YOUNG WHEN I FIRST SAW YOU — NAKAHARA CHUUYA .ᐟ

ᡣ𐭩 CW(s): f! reader, 15! chuuya (initially) but both of you grow up in the end ofc, strangers to friends to lovers trope, fluff with slight angst, inspired by howl's moving castle, not proofread

ᡣ𐭩 SYNOPSIS: in which he loved you since fifteen

ᡣ𐭩 NOW PLAYING: fearless and love story by taylor swift

chuuya made his way through the packed streets, and it didn't take long for his sharp eyes to notice a commotion up ahead. a group of middle schoolers surrounded a lone, young girl, their taunts and jeers resonating through the air.

chuuya's brows furrowed, and his tongue clicked in annoyance at the sight. he always had a low tolerance for those who preyed on the weak, especially when they targeted someone as vulnerable as a middle schooler.

so, with a sigh, he approached the scene at hand, his presence demanding attention as those bullies fixed their sight on him.

"oi, who the hell are you?" one of them snarled, puffing out his chest in a futile attempt to appear threatening as he saw chuuya.

chuuya only smirked at the mere display of threat, his gray-blue eyes gleaming with a menacing glint, "someone who doesn't take kindly to cowards who pick on the innocent."

with that, chuuya began to glow red as he began to manipulate gravity, and the ground beneath the bullies' feet trembled, sending them falling backward in confusion and fear.

you looked up, surprised by the sight of the intriguing figure before you. you had heard stories about the sheep and their leader, but you never expected to meet him in person, let alone in the thick of your own personal turmoil at the time.

it didn't take long for those bullies to flee from the sheep king, terrified for their own lives. if you were in their shoes, you would have done exactly the same. ghe king of the sheep was someone who prowled the streets using his devastating gravity manipulation ability.

you blink quietly in astonishment as the teen's red aura stemming from his ability fades, his ginger locks falling back to frame his face as his gray-blue eyes rest on yours, softening.

"hey, you alright?" chuuya asked, his tone softer now as he turned his attention to you.

you immediately nodded, your voice barely a whisper as you replied, "y-yes, thank you."

as you stood in the dimly lighted alley, your heart was still beating from the previous encounter with the bullies, but you were pleased for his sudden appearance. you would have been done for if he hadn't been around, and your money would have been stolen again.

you couldn't help but look at him in admiration as a smile appeared on his lips, and his smile warmed your heart as he took a step closer, relieving your tension from the previous occurrences.

"err—i couldn't just stand by and watch," he admitted, his sincerity evident in his gaze as he stares at you, "are you sure you're okay?"

you nodded again, feeling a blush creeping onto your cheeks with a shy smile tugging on your lips, "well, i am now. that's for sure.."

his heart skipped a beat at your words, and chuuya realized he couldn't let you slip away so easily, and so he couldn't help but ask.

"so. would, uh, you... would you like me to walk you home?" he cleared his throat.

his sweet gesture sent your heart fluttering. you would never have expected the fearsome sheep king to be thus nice, given how he was usually portrayed as deadly, a force to be reckoned with. perhaps it was a reminder that, at the end of the day, he was not a king.

he was just a teenager, a child—just like you.

warmth spreads through you as you nodded your head in agreement and took his outstretched hand with a growing smile, "sure!"

as chuuya walked you home, he couldn't help but notice your middle school uniform, which served as a sharp reminder of the childhood he never had. his eyes lingered on the familiar scene, a stab of jealousy tugging at his heart as he pondered what it would have been like to go to school like any other child.

despite his envy, he developed a curious attraction. he was drawn to you, intrigued by the innocence and youth that emanated from your being, and despite the difficulties he experienced as the sheep's leader, he just couldn't resist the pull of your youthful vigor, which stood in stark contrast to the darkness that pervaded his life. there was just something.

maybe you were the one who had the ability to manipulate gravity after all, huh?

chuuya couldn't resist the impulse to strike up a conversation with you as you led him through the streets, walking directly by your side on your left as he let you take the sidewalk.

"so, uh, what's it like being a middle schooler?" he inquired, real curiosity in his voice.

you looked up at him, taken aback by his question yet ready to share your experiences regardless.

"it's... alright, i guess?" you said, a faint smile on your lips, "school can be tough sometimes, but it's nice to have friends and teachers who are there for me."

chuuya nodded, his curiosity peaked by your reply, "friends and teachers, huh? sounds like you've got a good support system," he said with a tinge of wistfulness in his tone as he whispered the last part, "must be nice.."

you agreed, a sensation of thankfulness welling up within you, "mhm, but what about you? what's it like being the leader of the sheep?"

chuuya's demeanor softened in response to the question you asked, a mixture of pride and melancholy flickering through his eyes.

"it's challenging, to say the least," he said, his voice laced with emotion, "we may not have much in the sheep, but we look out for each other, no matter what.."

as you were going to continue the talk, you observed a look of surprise on chuuya's face.

"wait... how do you know me?" he inquired, his gray blue eyes narrowing slightly as he watched you with renewed interest.

you blushed, realizing you'd accidentally disclosed your knowledge of him, as you stuttered and tried to avoid any raise of suspicion from him, "i, um, i've heard about you from some friends.. they call you the king of the sheep, but that's all i promise! i don't know much!"

chuuya's expression relaxed, and a soft smile formed at the corners of his lips upon seeing your cute stammer. it was such a sight to be hold. you looked so cute when you were nervous. it made feel some things in his chest.

"i see," he said in an amused tone, "well, i guess it's not every day that the leader of the sheep gets recognized by a (cute) middle schooler."

his response made you less tense now, and you couldn't help but smile again.

"you know, i didn't think you were this.. nice.” you said to him, fiddling with your fingers.

chuuya smiled softly in response to your statement, a touch of amusement flickering in his keen gray blue eyes, "i suppose i'm not always what people expect," he conceded, a contemplative expression crossing his face as he shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner.

you nodded, a sense of admiration rising within you as you saw chuuya in a new light. despite his profound reputation and ability, there was a tenderness and warmth about him that you had not expected.

"well, i'm glad i got to see this side of you, sheep king. it's an honor," you replied, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

chuuya returned your smile, and a sense of camaraderie grew between you, "likewise," he remarked, his tone sincere, "and who knows? maybe there's more to me than meets the eye."

before you head inside your house after he accompanied you, you turn around to see chuuya, a gleam of curiosity in your eyes.

"by the way, i never really got your name," you admitted, a sheepish smile playing on your lips.

chuuya's lips quirk into a smirk at your question. "ah, right. i'm nakahara chuuya," he replied, his voice warm and inviting to the soul.

"nakahara chuuya..." you repeated, the name rolling off your tongue as you commit it to memory, "thank you for walking me home, and for saving me earlier, chuuya. it was nice meeting you."

chuuya nodded, a sense of contentment settling over him, "of course," he says, his smile widening, "take care of yourself, alright?"

as chuuya turns around to leave, you sense a strong need to follow him. with a racing heart, you catch up to him from your door, reaching out to grab his arm before he disappears off into the night.

"wait, chuuya!" you called out to him, your voice tinged with urgency.

chuuya, taken aback by your unexpected gesture, turns back to face you, his gray-blue eyes widening as you embrace him. his breath catches in his throat, and his cheeks flush with surprise at the unexpected display of devotion.

for a brief moment, the world around you fades away as you cling to chuuya, the sensation of his warmth enveloping you in a soothing embrace. as you eventually pull away, a flush growing across your cheeks, you meet his stare with a mix of shyness and sincerity.

"i know i thanked you already, but i just.. wanna thank you more personally like this," you muttered softly, which made his heart skip a beat.

chuuya's heart just couldn't help but flutter in response to your words, and he reaches out to gently brush a stray strand of hair away from your face.

"anytime," he chuckled, his voice warm and affectionate.

as you return home, the image of his flushed countenance lingers in your mind, leaving you with a smile that lasts late into the night.

the days that followed were a haze for you, packed with the typical schedule of classes and homework from school.

despite the monotony, memories of chuuya persisted in the back of your mind, his surprising kindness leaving an indelible mark on you. you never expected the king of the sheep to be like that. you expected him to be scary just as they had depicted him to be.

"chuuya?" you called out, your voice tinged with curiosity as you approached him.

chuuya turned to face you, a sheepish smile on his lips, and greeted you with a hand on the nape of his neck, "hey, [name]. i, uh, hope you don't mind my waiting for you here.”

you shook your head, a mix of curiosity and excitement coursing through you. "oh, no! not at all. it's just unexpected to see you here. that's all," you said, tilting your head to the side, making his chest feel fuzzy at the sight.

chuuya chuckled softly, "i wanted to, uh, tell you something."

as the talk between you and chuuya progressed in the secluded area near the college gates, you developed a sensation of eagerness. finally, unable to resist your curiosity, you couldn't help but ask, "so, what did you want to talk to me about, chuuya?"

"i've been thinking.." he said, his voice trailing off briefly as he looked for the proper words.

"...i've been thinking that maybe we could spend more time together," chuuya finally continued to his words, his voice becoming more confident as he talked but he stammered, "i've loved our discussions thus far, and i’d like to get to know you better, if that's okay with you.. i-i understand if you don't want to identify yourself with me. i mean, i know i have a reputation for being the sheep kin—"

you couldn't help but feel a rush of delight flowing through you as you blurted out an excited, "of course i don't mind!" which cut him off.

chuuya's smile widened at your response, a warmth flowing through his chest and cheeks, and his freckled face turned pink as he realized you felt the same way.

"r-really?" he asked, his voice full of disbelief but excitement—genuine excitement, "how about we meet up after your classes tomorrow? we could grab a bite to eat or explore the city together. anything is cool with me."

the possibility of spending more time with chuuya piqued your interest, and you quickly nodded in accord.

and so, the next day, as the last bell rung to indicate the end of courses, you eagerly made your way to the specified meeting place where you would meet chuuya. your heart beat with excitement, wondering what experiences awaited you and chuuya as the heels of your shoes thumped against the ground.

as you neared the spot of the meeting place, you noticed chuuya waiting for you, a warm smile lighting up his face. he went forward without hesitation and embraced you tightly, surprising you but filling you with a sense of warmth and comfort.

"hey," chuuya never spoke this softly around anyone else, but you were an exception somehow as he hugged you.

returning the hug, you couldn't help but smile at him. "hey," you exhaled softly, filled with joy at the sight of him.

chuuya released you from his embrace and his touch sent a spark of electricity through as he suddenly took your hand in his, the skin to skin contact making your cheeks even warmer.

"come on, let's go," he murmured, his enthusiasm evident as he led you away from the campus gates.

before you could even question where you two were going, chuuya began sprinting, pulling you along with him as you laughed in surprise and excitement. the wind whipped past you as you sprinted side by side, your surroundings a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds.

as you raced through the streets together, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline surge through your veins, making you lose yourself in the moment as a smile etched on your lips.

chuuya abruptly came to a halt, his gray-blue eyes flashing with mischief as he turned to face you with a cheeky smirk, "quick, hold on tight."

"wha—?!"

before you could react, chuuya's hands began to glow with a faint, pulsating light, and with a flick of his wrist, he used his gravity manipulation ability as you held onto him, and in an instant, you felt lifted off the earth, weightless and free as you hovered in midair.

surprised but delighted by the sensation, you couldn't help but giggle in glee as chuuya twirled you around with ease, like you were in a ballroom made out of clouds and clear skies.

as you drifted together, floating in midair, you couldn't help but feel a sense of enchantment and wonder surround you.

and when you looked into chuuya's eyes, you felt a flood of emotions surge through you—love, excitement, and a sense of limitless possibility, and as he held you close, his touch, warm, delicate yet firm—that's when you realized you has discovered something genuinely rare too.

a love that defied gravity.

with a giggle bubbling up from within your throat, you couldn't help but wrap your arms around chuuya's neck, holding on to him as you soared over the air together.

chuuya's laughter resonated in the air around you, a sound that warmed your heart, a sound that sounded like bells to your ears, as he held you tight and guided you easily into the air.

buildings and houses went beneath you in a blur with each step, making the world below appear little and inconsequential in comparison to the limitless expanse of the sky above.

as the days went and you spent more time with chuuya, a new sense of joy and excitement entered your life. instead of going directly home from school, you found yourself drawn to his side instead, and chuuya always arrived with a bright smile and a humorous glimmer in his pretty gray blue eyes.

"ah, there she is, my queen of the sheep," he'd remark now, his voice full with warm affection as he greeted you every single time.

chuuya's adorable nickname for you warmed your cheeks, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of curiosity bubbling up inside you. as the two of you went hand in hand, you looked up at him with a curious gleam in your eyes.

"me? queen of the sheep?" you asked, your tone mixed with amusement and interest as you pointed at yourself.

chuuya shrugged softly, his gaze softening as he looked at you, trying to look and sound casual as he spoke, "you're more than just a friend, alright?"

"how so?" you furrowed your brows, a smile growing on your lips as you felt him squeeze your hand in his.

chuuya leaned closer to you, and said, "you're someone special.. someone who brings light and warmth into my life, just like a queen."

chuuya's remark made your cheeks flush with even more warmth, and a faint giggle escaped your lips as you attempted to conceal your amusement of it.

"wow, chuuya.. i never thought the sheep king could be this pretty cheesy," you muttered softly, unable to hide the cute smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

chuuya laughed along with you, shaking his head side to side as he nudged you playfully in return, his voice filled with a teasing tone "i can't help it if I'm a romantic at heart, ya' know?"

your laughter resonated across the quiet streets as you teased chuuya about his unexpected surge of romanticism.

"but do tell, what's gotten into you, being all romantic all of a sudden, hmm?" you asked, a teasing grin coming over your face.

chuuya shrugged, a sheepish smile on his lips, "i guess spending time with you just brings out the cheesy side of me."

you said, nudging him lightly in return, "well, then. it's nice having my own personal romantic."

chuuya laughed and slung his arm around your shoulders as you continued your leisurely stroll across the city.

but then, it happened.

as the days passed, you were increasingly agitated and concerned when chuuya failed to arrive at your customary after-school meeting place. days turned into weeks real quick.

you waited impatiently each afternoon, scouring the surroundings for any sign of his familiar form, but he wasn't there. you initially tried to dismiss your fears, thinking yourself that he was too busy or preoccupied with something more essential.

he belonged to the sheep, after all. not to you. a fact that you had to accept.

but when the days stretched into weeks with no trace of him, your concern grew into full-fledged anxiety.

and so with a heavy heart, you gradually accepted that chuuya would not be arriving any time soon. the once-vibrant streets way back home felt empty, and the world seemed quieter without him alongside you, and as you walked home alone every day, the weight of his absence sat heavy on your shoulders, as you silently waited for him.

the gods above seemed to have heard your prayers, because he eventually returned, and you found him waiting for you at the normal meeting point after your classes ended one day.

chuuya was dressed in a harsh black suit and formal pants, a white button-up shirt, and black gloves, and your heart sunk at his new look. something had inevitably occurred, and you could tell as the tension hung heavy in the air as you waited for him to speak.

"hey, what happened to you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

chuuya's gaze was distant, and his expression was instantly replaced by a serious expression as he looked into your eyes, "i had to take care of some business."

you could feel the weight of his words. something had changed, something important enough to dramatically alter chuuya's manner and appearance. he wasn't like this before.

a million questions raced through your head, but you held back, allowing chuuya to disclose what he was comfortable with. the stillness stretched between you, filled with unspoken words and worries, but after what seemed like a lifetime, chuuya spoke again, barely above a whisper.

"look, i’m sorry i haven't been around," he replied, his tone tinged with sadness.

chuuya's arms suddenly wrapped securely around you in a comforting embrace, and you felt a rush of emotions flow through you. uncertainty, anxiety, and, most importantly, genuine concern for him.

his words lingered in your head, each syllable laden with significance, and you couldn't help but feel a shiver of unease at the prospect of what they may imply. chuuya tightened his grip on you, as if seeking relief in your presence.

"i'm no longer a part of the sheep," he admitted all of a sudden after mustering enough courage, "things have changed, and i don't exactly know what's going to happen next."

you felt a knot form in your throat at his disclosure, the weight of his words soaking in as you attempted to grasp the enormity of what he was saying. the notion of chuuya leaving the sheep, leaving behind the only life he had ever known, made you feel uneasy and sad.

but his following comments, stated with earnestness that sent shivers down your spine, troubled you much more, "but listen to me, no matter what happens, promise me you'll wait for me," he pleaded, his voice full of desperation, "okay, [name]?"

you furrowed your brows in confusion, unable to make sense of his request, "wait for you? what do you mean, chuuya?"

"i can't explain it right now, but please, trust me," he begged, his voice barely above a whisper, "promise me you'll wait for me, no matter what. okay, [name]?"

you nodded slowly, a sensation of doom washing over you as you made the commitment, but you couldn't shake the notion that chuuya's words had a deeper significance.

as you stood there, struggling with the weight of chuuya's words and the uncertainty of the future, he unexpectedly moved in and placed his lips to yours in a loving kiss, stealing your first kiss.

for a brief minute, time appeared to stand still as your heart beat in your chest, your mind reeling from the unexpected intimacy of the gesture. his lips were warm against yours, a delicate shiver that sent thrills down your spine and triggered profound feelings within you.

chuuya drew back as fast as it had began, his gaze searching yours for any indication of understanding or reciprocation. the air crackled with tension as you met his eyes—the intensity of the moment hung heavy between you.

"chuuya?" you whispered.

and before you could say anything else, chuuya shook his head, a sorrowful smile forming on the edges of his lips.

"heh, i'm sorry for stealing your first kiss," he said softly, his voice thick with grief, "i just.. i just needed you to know how much you mean to me."

you reached out to him, your fingers quivering as they brushed against his cheek, a wordless gesture of comfort and understanding, and in that moment, words felt unnecessary as you stood together in unspoken affection.

chuuya held you tightly, his lips meeting yours in another delicate kiss, and you felt a rush of warmth travel through your body, lighting a fire deep within. his embrace was firm but delicate, as if he was attempting to express all of his love and longing in that one moment.

but as the kiss continued, you sensed a trace of regret beneath the desire, a tacit acknowledgement of the impending separation between the two of you, and chuuya's grip tightened around you, as if he was attempting to hang on for just a bit longer, unable to let go.

but he had to, and he pulled away hesitantly, his forehead resting against yours as he looked into your eyes with a mix of tenderness and sadness.

"i really wish i could stay," he said, just above a whisper, "but i have to leave."

you felt a twinge of sorrow at his words, the weight of his approaching departure clenching around on your poor heart.

"go where?" you asked quietly as chuuya paused for a minute, his expression anguished as he tried to find the perfect words.

"there are some things i need to take care of," he said, cryptically, "but please know that no matter what happens, i'll always carry you with me.”

tears welled up in your eyes as you saw the depth of chuuya's love and devotion for you, and the fact that he was going weighed hard on your thoughts.

"chuuya, please don't go," you begged, your voice choked with anguish, "you can't just show me a world bigger than us, then just leave."

"i know.." he whispered softly, his gaze never leaving yours, "but i swear, i’ll come back for you. just wait for me. okay? i'll come running, and i'll find you in the future. no matter what."

chuuya unwillingly released you from his embrace with one more kiss, his touch lingering on your skin as if he were imprinting himself on you and refusing to let go, and as he turned to leave, you watched him go with a heavy heart, knowing that a piece of yourself would always be with him.

days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and finally, months into years.

despite your efforts to move on, chuuya's memories did in fact haunt you like a ghost, not just as a reminder, as you stroll through the hallway of your campus as a college student, no longer a middle schooler, you felt the emptiness that time cannot fill, and slowly you have come to realize the truth.

you've outgrown the young girl who waited for chuuya's return, and you wonder if the promise of love you previously held onto was merely a dream.

you remembered sharing your stories about your day at school with chuuya while he told you about the sheep in return, and even life was not always easy, and chuuya was there to console and be your shoulder to lean on during those difficult times.

chuuya would wipe away your tears, hug you, and encourage you as best he could. he would even take you away to an ice cream parlor to soothe your anxious mind, and those fleeting moments left an indelible mark on your heart. he always made sure you came home smiling.

and now, lost in thought, you're wandering through the city streets on your way home from campus. chuuya left seven years ago. he was just fifteen and you were fourteen when you first met, and you still wonder how much he has changed.

suddenly, you feel a light tap on your shoulder. you turn around to see no one which alerted you, but the moment you turn back, you felt like you saw a ghost. the ghost whose memories had always been haunting your mind for years.

he grew his hair long, but those red locks still frame his face the way you remember them, and his gray blue eyes meet yours with such intensity that your pulse skips a beat, sending a rush of nostalgia through your veins, reminding you of how young you were when you first saw each other.

sharper features and cheekbones, a more mature build now dressed in a formal suit, vest, and tie, as well as a coat and hat, and you in a college uniform, different hair and style, but even after time, even if you both were no longer kids, the heart and soul knows and recalls, and will always do.

"i’ve been looking everywhere for you," he says.

you blink, hardly believing it as you utter a soft spoken, "chuuya?"

he steps closer, eyes locked on yours. "you know, i couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he says quietly with a soft chuckle, "of course i had to find you. i needed to know you were okay."

tears well up in your eyes. you never thought you’d see him again, but here he is, right in front of you, like a fever dream.

"chuuya!" you find yourself crying out his name as you run straight into his arms, the same way you would back then whenever you'd see him waiting for you after school.

chuuya reaches out, catching you in his arms, a constant, and gently cups your cheek, "god, i’m sorry i took so long," he says, smiling at you, "but i’m here now, yeah?"

you let out tearful sniffles and hiccups as you held onto him, clinging to the fabric of his shirt, burying your face in his embrace; his ever-present scent mixed with a rich cologne will forever remind you of home; after all, he was your home, and you were finally home after all these years.

"shh, i'm here, i'm here now i'm so sorry, love," he whispers softly against your face, his warm breath bringing warmth and comfort as he hugs you close to his chest, scared you'll slip away from him again.

"i got tired of waiting, wondering if you'd come back, and wondering if you'd forgotten about me.. i thought you were really gone," you sob, unable to breathe through your tears as you pour your heart out to him, "i kept waiting, and waiting, but you never came.." you continue as he rubs your back.

chuuya's heart clenched, and your tears filled him with guilt. he knows how much everything has taken its toll on you, and he knows he has a lot to catch up on and make up for, so he cups your face in his hands, catching your tears with his thumbs as he rests his forehead against yours before capturing your lips in a tender, longing kiss.

a kiss that is no longer a bittersweet goodbye, but rather a lovely hello.

"we were both young when i first you, but time will never allow me to forget you. i love you, and i love you more than ever," he says with such love in his eyes and he finds himself falling in love all over again, falling in love harder even.

and chuuya kisses you for the second, third, and fourth time, keeping the promise of love he made to you back to when you were both young.

ᡣ𐭩 A.N.: for some odd reason, and i swear ya'll. this was all way better in my head but hey it's finally done !! ( ⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝ ) ♡

ᡣ𐭩 TAGS: @cheriiyaya @atomi-mi @walking-simp @little-miss-chaoss @soleelia @rainbowsalt0412 @tinypuppyparadise @iheart-nana @velvetyvoyage @lilyzenick @hellkaiserinphoenix

[cosmic-waves7]

Jealousy, Jealousy.

Note: I tried Smth new w howl, pls pls lmk if u like it cuz I was half asleep as I typed this out (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

He's jealous.

It was only a quick pitt stop at the Wizard Pendragon's shop (one of Howl's many aliases) that set it all off.

A calm morning for the Pendragon's moving household was set to start and the shop needed a bit of upkeep as customers were running dry. So with the creaky floorboards all swept up and Calcifer warned to not misbehave, the clock-like magical device that hung next to the door signalled with a resounding ding and a switch in colour indicating where the castle had teleported to.

There was a long day ahead but you couldn't be more pleased.

As the hours went on Howl worked in rhythm with you as tinkering laughter was heard throughout the shop and bubbling mixtures were stirred harmoniously in cauldrons. There was a calm air to your love as he flitted around you with hands briefly coming to couch and maybe even teasingly squeeze at your hips as he passed.

"Pass me the dandelion leaves ?", He asked while focusing on the lilac fluid seeping from the side of the potion bottle he was pouring into.

You nodded with a kiss atop his freshly midnight-dyed hair - courtesy of sweet Sophie, you know she didn't mean it but you couldn't thank her more for the darkened charcoal colour that had seeped into his golden locks- and off to the ingredients section you went muttering past bottles of all sorts.

Coming back empty handed with no dandelion leaves in sight you let your eyes wander to his sprawled out form in the chair by the fire, Howl only looked up and smiled a bit disappointedly before getting to his feet and tugging on his boots.

You could already see long black feathers creeping out his cloak, predicting his speedy mode of transport for the errand.

"I'll be back in a moment sweetheart, not to worry. Markle will take care of everything."

Knowing full well the small child would've dosed off by now as he'd left to play in the fields while you both worked, you were left to manage the quaint store while Howl flew out for after a dizzying kiss goodbye and mumbles of bringing you wildflowers to carefully twist into your hair.

Then and only then did a customer decide to come in.

He was a polite young man, easily flustered and a soldier of the royal palace you noted due to the bluish uniform donning his slightly hunched physique.

He was nervous.

You grinned trying to ignore his demeanour so that maybe the pink in his cheeks would lessen.

"Ma'am, the queen has requested for a simple sleep draught from the makings of your shop.", He coughed, "please." came soon quickly after he'd recollected himself and pulling at the yellowed buttons holding his vest together.

You hid your smile behind the worn glove that your sweet partner had embroidered a pathetic attempt of a small daisy onto which you very much cherished, it felt like you were talking to a mouse rather than a fully grown man.

"Why of course."

The man...boy even, settled into a lone seat to watch you set up, eventually gaining courage to invite you into bubbly conversation that you found very boring very fast hence weren't all too interested in so short sugared-up answers were all he received.

The 'banter' he thought he was receiving on your end was honestly faked curiousity.

It seemed he was quite dim. Too dim for your liking.

His puny attempts to indirectly flirt were unoriginal and simply unwelcome.

Just as you were starting up your potion with another lame probe on the topic of the weather about to leave the man's mouth, your beloved hurriedly came in. Cheerily he was chattering on about a bird he'd been able to fly up close to in in his bird-like form.

"Oh, you should have seen it's-", Howl interrupted himself to stare at the man sat atop the brass stool across your apothecary tabletop, "feathers?"

His demeanor immediately switched.

Gone was the gentle, patient magician you were so accustomed to. There stood an intimidating wizard and he oddly felt much taller, much more powerful than a split second ago.

This was the Howl Pendragon you'd only ever heard about through word of mouth, not the one that childishly insisted to cuddle up on your ill-fitted couch or cast silly spells to jokingly make your hair stick up in different directions.

No. This was a whole different feel of a person and it seemed like the magic was almost spilling out of him in waves, you could almost taste it's electric crackling force in the air.

He felt more confident, cocky, ready to rip into this poor man down to his basic self-worth.

You liked it.

His lips twitched.

"Darling, who is this?"

Howl's voice was always deep and smooth as silk, just as it was right now, yet you were no fool and could pick up on the the roughened edges of his tone.

But it seemed like the young soldier took no notice of the emotional state of the suddenly very upset wizard in his presence. He only turning around to bow deeply in respect while stuttering out a greeting and an explanation of his presence.

Howl only had a curt nod to give as a reply and you could tell he wasn't very ecstatic have a new face in here.

If he could roll his eyes at the 'competition', they'd roll all the way to the back of his head to see his brain.

The next few minutes were tense as he only grinned tightly and came to your side to place a very domineering palm on your corseted waist pulling you in closer to his warm body, sending a clear message.

"I'm sure you've got this one little potion down love?", He said with his eyes sharply glancing to the young man that had very clearly receded back into his shell at this point.

Howl didn't even need to say a word, didn't even need to properly look at the guard for him to metaphorically back away. But of course he had to ensure he got his point across, so what else could he do but dip down to deeply kiss your lips, he was only seconds away from basically pushing his tounge into your mouth if you didn't stop his dramatic live-performance.

Nodding satisfied with himself, you huffed whispering 'show off' while he stepped back to tend to his dandelion-leaf-less potion.

You couldn't even look up at the barstool your customer sat on anymore with the intense blush covering your face and you could only imagine the agony of embarrassment he was going through.

With the potion sealed up and a-way-over-the-actual-price bag of coins thrown at the counter, he promptly escaped out the door not even bothering to check for any change.

Shrugging you turned back to glare at Howl who was innocently blinking into space.

"Was the last part really necessary."

He slowly smirked, tendrils of his magic swirling past your shoulders.

"Whatever do you mean?"

You quickly found yourself within his grasp, pressing kisses to your knuckles as an apology.

You knew he wasn't sorry at all.

Loud laughter could be heard from a distance as Calcifer moved the castle along to wherever your hearts desired.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[tasteleeknow]

strawberries

pairing: minho + jisung x fem!reader genre: smut. established relationship [boyfriend!minho]. boyfriend’s best friend [jisung]. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 5k

summary: your boyfriend catches his best friend moaning your name.

Minho and Jisung were practically a package deal. Your boyfriend had even brought his best friend along on your third date. “He’s feeling down,” he’d said, the only explanation he’d offered. Luckily, you liked him. He was a little reserved at first, only opening up when you’d been dating Minho a few months. You ended up spending a lot of time with him without Minho, waking up to find your boyfriend had left for work and spending the day with his roommate instead. He was sweet, made you laugh, and you shared a love of Ghibli. It wasn’t until a year into your relationship that Minho had brought his friend’s little crush to your attention. 

Minho drapes his arm over you now, pulling you back into his chest. His lips brush against the skin behind your ear as he speaks. “Caught him again,” he mutters. “Got home late and heard him gasping your name.”

warnings: afab!reader. profanity. pet names. possessive behaviour. perv behaviour. food play. unprotected intercourse [dirty talk, breast play/sucking, cum kink, breeding kink, sharing].

“I still don’t believe you,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks warm. He’d been trying to convince you of his friend’s crush for months, informing you of multiple occasions he’d caught him touching himself to the thought of you. Jisung wouldn’t do that, you’d argue. Minho would always laugh, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers and making cooing noises. You’d slap him off, quickly changing the subject. 

He wraps his leg around you. “Do you need me to prove it to you? Hm?” he says sweetly, one hand moving up to cup your breast. 

You should say no. “How…would you do that?” you ask instead. 

He chuckles. “Tease him. He’s incredibly obvious if you pay a little attention.” 

You wiggle in his hold, rolling until you're facing him—his limbs still wrapped around you. “You want me to flirt with your best friend?” 

“As long as you remember you’re mine,” he says, smiling. He leans forward pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. 

“Isn’t it a little…mean?” 

“Hm? Not if we reward him.” 

“Reward?” 

He brushes your hair from your face. “Don’t you think he’s pretty? I’ve noticed you looking.” 

You frown. “I don’t look.” Of course you’d noticed he was pretty. How could anyone not. 

“It’s okay, baby. You think I'm prettiest, right?” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers brushing through his hair. “Fishing for compliments, again?”

“I’m asking you to try and seduce another man, I need a little reassurance.” 

“Yes, you’re the prettiest and I love you.” 

He nods, humming in approval. “Alright, then you can fuck him.” You huff you a startled laugh, face falling into his chest. When you look at him again the corner of his mouth is turned up, like it always did just before he caused chaos. “I’ll watch,” he adds. 

“You’re serious?” 

He hums, rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him. “You’ve never heard him. He chants your name as he cums, so desperate. He wants you so bad, baby. It can be a Christmas present, hm?” 

You’d never considered it before. You never considered anyone else, completely fucking obsessed with the man under you. Now that you are picturing it, you can’t help taking him seriously. You imagine him sitting back against the headboard, stroking his cock to the sight of his friend friend fucking you. How could you not consider it seriously? You hum, pressing your lips to his. “Let me think about it,” you murmur. 

The next time you see Jisung you can’t get the conversation out of your head. He asks if you want to watch Howl’s Moving Castle with him, offering you one of the peperos he’s snacking on. You nod silently, taking the little stick from him and taking way too long to finish it, nibbling at it as you pay zero attention to the movie. He’s wearing one of his many sleeveless tanks, his black hair flopping down over his eyes. He was very pretty. He turns to look at you suddenly, catching you ogling him. 

“What?” he questions. 

“Do you want some nutella?” you ask. “For the pepero.” 

“Sure,” he says, returning his attention to the movie. 

You suck in a few deep breaths as you retrieve the jar, preparing yourself. When you settle yourself back on the couch again you’re close enough for your thighs to brush together. It wasn’t unusual, you’d grown close enough to him that you were a little touchy sometimes. You wrap your hand around the lid, feigning a small groan as you subtly tighten instead of loosening it. You eventually nudge him, holding the jar out to him. “I think Minho screwed it on too tight again,” you say as he takes it from you. 

A half eaten pepero hangs from his lips as he wraps his hand around it, biceps flexing as he pops it off easily—handing it back to you casually. “Thank you, Sungie,” you say, wrapping your fingers around his bicep and squeezing gently. His eyes drop to his arm for a moment and you feel his muscles flex just as you release him. 

Minho was right. He wasn’t subtle at all. His eyes are on you more than the film from then on, watching as you dip pepero into the jar then sucking the nutella off each one—pushing them in and out of your mouth a few times before nibbling. It convinces you to carry out Minho’s plan, whispering your agreement in his ear later that night as he buries his cock in you. He cums seconds later. 

When Minho buys you a new red bikini, you can predict what torture method he has planned for his friend today. He invites Jisung to the beach and reminds you to bring your sunscreen as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. When you arrive, you aren’t surprised at all when he shoves the bottle into Jisung's hands, asking him to help you while he sets up. Jisung stands there awkwardly, looking between you both until you feel sorry for him and beckon him over. “I can do it,” you say, taking the bottle from him and attempting to reach back over your shoulder to lather your upper back. 

“Help her!” Minho shouts after a moment, struggling with the beach umbrella. 

“Shut up!” you shout back, watching as your boyfriend smiles cheekily at you while his friend's back is turned. You roll your eyes. “Ignore him,” you say to Jisung, continuing to reach over your shoulder. 

“I can…I mean I can help,” he offers. “If you want.” 

“Yeah?”

He nods, his palm spread over his abs. “Thanks, Sungie.” You offer him a small smile and spread your towel down over the sand, laying yourself down onto your stomach. You close your eyes. It takes him a while to start. You imagine him kneeling beside you, looking back and forth between you and your boyfriend. Then his warm palms smooth over your shoulder blades, massaging the cream into your skin. You keep completely still, not wanting to spook him. He’s thorough, very thorough. You can’t help smiling into your elbow when he pauses, his fingers twitching a little at your lower back. Then he continues, his pinky finger nudging the hem of your bikini bottoms. 

“Think you got it all,” Minho says, startling the boy next to you. His hands are off you so quick you have to disguise your laugh as a cough, face still buried in your arms. You lift yourself onto your knees and after giving your boyfriend a quick glance, you wrap your arms around Jisung—pressing your chests together. 

“Thank you,” you say before sitting back, watching as his eyes flick down to your cleavage. 

“Swim?” Minho asks, helping you up. Jisung doesn’t stand. 

“I’ll come in a bit,” he says instead, hand positioned over his crotch. Minho nudges you as you make your way to the water. 

“He had a hard on,” he says once you're out of earshot. “In case you missed it.” 

“You’re evil.” 

He scoops you up in his arms. “And you’re hot.” 

You’re lounging on the couch, your fluffy socks resting in Jisung’s lap when the doorbell rings. He lifts your legs from his lap to get it, returning with a small package. You pull your knees to your chest so he can settle back into the lounge. “I don’t remember ordering anything,” he says, pulling his car keys from his pocket to slice the tape from the edges. When he digs into the box and his eyebrows shoot up, you know instantly this was Minho’s dirty work. He lifts something green and lacy, his fingertips holding it like it could explode on him at any moment. You drop your head back. Oh god. 

“Um, I think…maybe this is yours,” he says. You lift your head. He’s not looking at you, eyes in his lap as he holds the small package out to you. You take it from him, lifting the lingerie from the box to inspect it. It’s a one piece, kind of. A few pieces of lace connect the bra to the panties. A large emerald green bow made of ribbon sits at the back, just above where your ass would be. It’s pretty and you can imagine Minho asking you to keep it on as he fucks you, slipping the panties to the side so he can enter you. 

“I must have… used your account to order accidentally,” you offer in explanation. “I’m sorry.” 

He shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he says. “It’s pretty.” He snaps his eyes to yours suddenly, like he’s startled by his own words. His cheeks are red. “I mean…it’s a nice colour.” 

“You think so?” 

“I…uh…yeah.” 

You turn it around, showing him the big bow at the back. “Do you think the colour suits my skintone?” you ask. “It’s a little different to how it looked online.” 

He’s quiet and when you look up at him, his eyes are fixed on the fabric. “Jisung?” you prompt. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, it’ll suit you,” he says quickly. You offer him a small smile and he jumps off the couch, backing away from you slowly. “I should shower,” he says before turning and disappearing. Just like that. 

You wear it that night. Your boyfriend turns you over, his hands smoothing over your ass as he mutters to himself. “Bet he imagined you like this, wrapped up for him like a fucking gift, mm?” 

When he pulls the panties aside and pulls you down onto his cock he asks you to explain how his friend had looked when he’d opened it. Tell him again how red he’d gotten. How quickly he’d escaped. He groans into your neck. “He fucked himself to the thought of you like this, didn’t he baby? Imagined your hot cunt around him. Do you think he muttered your name again? Hm?” You cum with a whine, biting into his forearm as he mutters in your ear. 

Today is the day Minho announces, tugging you into a sitting position as you rub the sleep from your eyes. “Hm?” you question, hardly awake as he bounces around you. 

“I went to the market,” he says, lifting a bag up in front of your face. “Strawberries. Remember our second date when we went to that place that did chocolate fondue? First time we had sex,” he smiles. 

You drop back against the pillows, pulling the blankets up over your shoulders. “It’s too early for chocolate,” you mumble. 

He places the bag on the ground and climbs over you, pressing you into the mattress. “Tonight?” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, keep your eyes closed. “Yeah, sure.” 

“You still want to? Fuck him?” 

You hum, nodding. “He’s pretty.” 

“Not as pretty as me though.” 

“Mm, the prettiest,” you mumble. 

He presses his lips to your cheek then climbs off you, leaving you to drift back to sleep. 

You get home that night to find both men in the kitchen, a complete mess of ingredients and dirty dishes covering every inch of bench space. Jisung is the first to approach you, a big bowl of melted chocolate in his arms. “Look what we made, “ he says, proudly. You reach up to wipe some chocolate from the corner of his mouth, keeping eye contact as you push your thumb between your lips to suck it off. 

“It’s yum,” you say before casually walking past him to embrace your boyfriend. “You gonna clean this up?” 

“Later,” he says, pulling you tight against him. 

“Mm, now. Jisung and I will wait in the living room,” you say, smiling sweetly and kissing him on the cheek. “Where are the strawberries?” His eyes flick between yours, then over your shoulder. Then he releases you, turning to grab a bowl of strawberries and passing it to you. 

“Don’t…start without me,” he says. 

“We’ll save you some,” you say, huffing out a small laugh at his true meaning. When you turn, Jisung is still standing where you left him—eyes fixed on the chocolate in his arms. You brush his shoulder as you pass. “C’mon, Minho will clean.” 

He makes an effort to keep his eyes on the tv as you both take turns dipping the fresh strawberries into the chocolate, even when you lick the mess from your fingers. You’re starting to doubt tonight will be the night Minho had planned and then your boyfriend enters—shirtless. 

“You lose your shirt down the kitchen sink?” you ask. 

“Got hot,” he says, lifting you onto his lap as he takes your spot on the couch. Jisung shuffles a little away from you both, practically crushing himself against the armrest. Minho reaches for a strawberry from the bowl in his friend's lap then dips it in the chocolate and holds it to your lips. You take a bite, keeping eye contact with your boyfriend as you wrap your lips around it. His eyes drop to your lips then he tugs you a little closer to his torso. When you’re finished chewing he offers you his fingers, letting you suck the chocolate from them. He presses them in and out of your mouth slowly, the noise of the television white noise behind you. 

When you finish you turn to the man next to you, his eyes fixed on you. You take a strawberry, dip it in chocolate, then hold it up to him. “You want one, Sungie?” you offer. His eyes drop to the chocolate covered berry between your fingers, then to your boyfriend. Whatever he sees in Minho’s eyes gives him the courage to lean towards you and wrap his lips around the strawberry, his eyes on yours as he bites down. 

“Nice?” you ask. 

He nods and when he swallows you offer him your fingers. He looks at your boyfriend again then leans forward eagerly, wrapping his lips around you. A small noise escapes his throat. Minho adjusts you in his lap, making his hard cock apparent beneath you. You take turns feeding each other, giving up cleaning the chocolate from your mouths. You eventually lean forward and lick it from your boyfriend's lips, not bothering to hold back your small moans as you taste him. 

He stands up, lifting you with him and taking a few steps towards his bedroom. Then he turns, eyes fixing on his best friend on the couch. “You coming?” he asks. 

Jisung looks between you both, mouth opening and closing a few times. “What?” he eventually gets out.

“Do you wanna fuck my girlfriend?” Minho asks, tone confident and steady as always—like it was a completely normal thing to ask. You watch Jisung place the bowl next to him, then pick it up again. He stands, rocking back and forth on his feet. You tap Minho’s shoulder, prompting him to let you down. Then you approach the nervous looking, very pretty boy. 

You take the empty bowl from him, setting it down on the small table by your legs. “Would you like to have sex with us, Sungie?” you ask, trailing your finger down his arm. His wide eyes flick between yours, his tongue flicking out to lick his plush upper lip. 

“You…you want me to…” he trails off. 

“Only if you want,” you whisper. “Do you want to?” 

He nods quickly, then looks over your shoulder. “Yes,” he says. 

“Come on, then,” your boyfriend says. You take Jisung’s hand in yours, offering him a small smile before following your boyfriend to your shared bedroom. 

Your boyfriend settles himself against the headboard as you sit Jisung at the edge of the bed. “Should I wear that thing I bought the other day?” you ask him. He swallows, bouncing against the bed as he readjusts his position. 

“I, uh… if you want.” 

“Tell me what you want,” you say. “Do you want me to wear it?” 

“Y-Yeah,” he breathes. You turn and dig through your drawers. 

“Good choice,” Minho says from his position on the bed. “She looks like a little gift in that thing. You’ll love it.” 

“You’re really… okay with this?” Jisung asks as you find the lingerie. 

“You know I hear you, right?” your boyfriend says in response. “Heard you jerking your cock to the thought of her.” 

“I… didn’t…I mean I—” 

“I want you to fuck her,” Minho interupts. 

“Sungie?” you call, pulling his attention back to you just as you pull your sweatshirt over your head. You aren’t wearing anything underneath and he’s quiet as he takes in the sight of you half naked in front of him. You look over his shoulder as your boyfriend pulls the rest of his clothes off, revealing his hard cock. He begins stroking himself, his eyes fixed on you. “Should take your clothes off,” you mutter to Jisung as you pull your shorts down your legs. His eyes snap from your chest as he stands, clumsily pulling the fabric from his body as you step into the lacy, green one piece. 

“Come here,” Minho says. “You wanna watch her crawl towards you.” 

Jisung does what he says, crawling up the bed to settle beside his best friend. You stand at the end of the bed, taking in the sight of them both waiting for you.

“Pretty,” Jisung mutters. Minho smiles, looking you up and down like he’s proud of you—like you’ve just won an award and he’s watching you perform your acceptance speech. 

“Mm,” he hums, stroking himself. “She is, isn’t she?” 

You wonder if that’s what this is for him, an extension of his own praise kink—stretched out to include you. It makes you feel warm, the idea that he thought you so much a part of him that compliments towards you had the same effect as ones directed at him. He pats his lap, prompting you to crawl up the bed towards him and climbing into his arms. You moan into his mouth, aware of Jisung’s eyes on you both. 

When Minho pulls back, he turns you—lying you back against the pillows and settling himself between your legs. “Come here,” he says to Jisung, pushing your thighs apart. “Tell me what you think about.” 

Jisung looks up at you then his eyes drop between your legs, lips parting at the sight of Minho tracing his fingers lightly over you. “What do you think about when you’re fucking yourself to the thought of her?” Minho prompts, eyes fixed on yours. His eyes say: See? Told you I could prove it. You want to reach down and kiss the smug look off his face. 

“I-I don’t think I can…I mean…” 

“I want to hear, Sungie. It’s okay,” you offer. It’s clear he still hasn’t processed the situation he’s found himself in, not confident enough to answer Minho’s question plainly. 

“Do you think about her tits?” Minho asks. 

His friend’s eyes trail up your body, pausing on your chest. He nods. “What do you think about?” Minho asks, fingers slipping under the panties to press directly to your cunt. Your hips jump off the bed. You’d been distracted by Jisung, taken off guard by your boyfriend’s movement. 

“I think about…about sucking them as I fuck her,” he whispers, just loud enough for you to make out. 

Minho strokes you gently, his lips curving up. You’re prepared for what he says next. “You can suck them while I fuck her,” he says. “I’m gonna feel her first, then you can have a go, yeah?” Minho says. 

Jisung looks to his friend, nodding eagerly in agreement. 

“Come see her pretty little cunt first,” Minho says, slipping the panties to the side fully and shuffling aside so his friend can take his place between your legs. “Touch her,” he encourages. 

Your breathing is uneven now, squirming halted by your boyfriend's hands as Jisung inspects you. He’s quiet as he hesitantly lifts his finger to your folds then very gently brushes over you. Minho’s hand pushes you down a little harder when you attempt to roll into him, seeking friction. “Pretty, isn’t she?” he asks, keeping his eyes between your legs. “Look at her puffy little lips. Pretty hole fluttering for cock.”

“So pretty,” Jisung breathes as the tip of his finger prods gently against your entrance. He toys with you for a bit before you reach down and grab his wrist, holding him against you. 

“You like Sungie touching you, baby?” Minho asks sweetly. You nod, grinding against the hand you hold to your cunt. “You want him to suck your pretty tits?” You nod again, a small whine slipping from your lips. “Then you have to let him go, hm?” 

You drop Jisung’s wrist reluctantly, gripping the sheets beside you instead. 

“My good girl,” he says, resuming his place between your legs.

 Jisung shuffles up beside you. When he hesitantly reaches towards you, you guide him to your breast—waiting until he takes a firm grasp before letting go. “S’okay,” you encourage, eyes squeezing shut as the tip of your boyfriend's cock kisses your entrance. 

“You heard her,” Minho says to his friend, pushing his tip just past your entrance and retreating again. “Take it out,” he instructs.

Jisung pulls the fabric down, letting one of your breasts free from the lace. He doesn’t hesitate this time, leaning down and wrapping his plush lips around your nipple. Minho pushes inside you as your back arches off the bed, hands grasping your waist to hold you against him. His thick cock pushes through your walls as Jisung’s wet tongue laps at your breast. You want to suck your boyfriend dry for suggesting this to you all those weeks ago. He pauses when he bottoms out, eyes fixed on where his friend moans around your nipple. You lift your hand to tangle in his soft hair, holding him to your chest. His other hand moves to your stomach, smoothing up your skin to blindly pull the lace from your other breast so he can cover it with his palm. He groans a little when you tug his hair lightly. 

Minho begins rolling his hips after a moment. “Feel nice?” he asks, brows furrowed. You recognise this look. He was holding back. He wanted to fuck you hard and fast until he filled you, but he was resisting. 

“Mm. Thank you, baby,” you manage to get out, reaching down to cover his hand where he holds your hip and squeezing him gently. He closes his eyes, a low groan slipping from his throat as he drops his head back. You want to sit up and latch onto his neck, bared prettily for you. You tug Jisung's hair a little harder until he releases you. His lips are wet, eyes glassy as he looks to you for instruction. 

“Sit behind me?” 

He’s quick to obey, lifting you gently and settling you back against his chest. Minho falls over you, sandwiching you between both their bodies as he begins moving. You can kiss his neck like this, the taste of him on your lips as Jisung plays with your hair. “She feels so fucking good,” he mutters, clearly speaking to his friend. “Did you imagine her? How tight she is?” 

“Yeah,” Jisung breathes behind you. “She’s…she’s tight?” 

“Fucking gripping me…sucking me back in every time I try and pull out.” 

“Fuck,” Jisung groans, his hard cock pressed against you. You imagine him leaking with precum, his hips rolling a little as he attempts to get a little friction. You feel bad for him suddenly. 

“You gonna… let him…let him fuck me?” you mutter into your boyfriend’s neck. 

“Mm, baby. He can fuck my cum into you, yeah?” Jisung makes a choked noise behind you. “Gonna fill you up first,” your boyfriend finishes. You whine, nodding as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Sound good?” he asks his friend, lifting his head to look at the man pressed to your back. 

You don’t hear any response but when your boyfriend drops his face into your neck, laughing softly—you imagine he must have made a non-verbal agreement. That was another thing your boyfriend liked: cum. The first time he’d taken you raw you’d seen a whole new side of him, practically feral as he’d rutted into you and then sat back to watch his cum leak from your swollen cunt. It doesn’t surprise you at all that the idea of watching someone else fuck it back into you excited him. 

He pushes you into his friend harder as his pace increases, grunting into your neck with each thrust. You’re completely surrounded by warmth, above, behind and inside. It only adds to it when Minho releases, warm cum flooding you as he whines into your neck. You clench around him, helping him draw out his high as he opens his mouth and bites gently into your shoulder. 

Jisung plays with your hair clumsily as your boyfriend catches his breath, cock twitching against you. “Did he fill you?” he whispers, as if speaking any louder will disturb your fucked out boyfriend. 

“Mm,” you hum, “So well. Got me all sloppy for you,” you breathe. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he says, voice a little louder now. “So hot…you make me so hard.”

“Yeah?” 

“Sometimes I—” he cuts himself off, somehow still shy after your boyfriend fucked you against his chest. 

“Tell me,” you breathe. 

“I listen to you. I listen to him fuck you and imagine it’s me.” 

“Then you act all sweet to my face?” you huff out a tired laugh. 

“Sweet?” he questions.

You hum. “You’re always so sweet to me, Sungie.” His fingers brush over your scalp, pulling a soft moan from your throat. “So sweet.” 

Your boyfriend lifts his head from your neck, clearly recovered enough to rejoin the conversation. “You want him to fuck you sweetly?” he asks, one corner of his mouth pulled up into a small smirk. 

“He can fuck me however he wants.” 

“Hear that?” he says, lifting off you and then pulling you off his friend’s chest. He switches positions with him, settling himself back against the pillows and pulling you against him before spreading your legs for his friend. His finger traces through your folds as Jisung watches, prodding his cum back into you. “Fuck it back into her,” he mutters. “Tear the lace off her first.”

“Like… break it? Tear it?” 

“Mm, I bought it, don't worry.” 

Jisung looks at you for a moment, clearly remembering when you’d told him the green lingerie was your purchase. You have a feeling he’s going to make you pay for that as he reaches between your legs and tears the fabric apart with both hands. His biceps flex with the movement and you drop your head back into your boyfriend, closing your eyes. 

Minho presses small kisses to your neck as his friend pushes into you. “Talk to me,” he says, lips fixed to your skin. “Tell me how she feels.” 

“P-Perfect.” 

“Mm, perfect little pussy,” he mumbles into your neck. 

You’re struggling to keep a grip on everything happening around you, officially overwhelmed. Then, Jisung starts moving. He doesn’t hold back like your boyfriend had at first and the while Minho continues muttering into your neck, all you can hear is the sound of his best friend fucking a load of Minho’s cum into you. It’s wet and messy and it pushes you over the edge, squeezing Jisung’s cock as your walls contract around him. 

You’re vaguely aware of your boyfriend speaking. To his friend, you assume. Then Minho’s hand moves to your jaw, tilting your head so he can kiss you. You’re too fucked out to help him, letting him move his plush lips over yours as his friend fucks into you. “Min,” you whisper eventually. 

“Mm, my love?” 

“You’re so smart.” 

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead then lowering your head to his chest—letting you go completely limp against him. “You gonna fill her up?” he says, hands stroking up and down your arms slowly. “I know that’s what you want most. I’ve heard you. “Always her name when you come all over yourself…right?” 

Jisung says nothing, eyes fluttering closed as his grip tightens on your hips. He pulls you down a little with the intensity of his movements, a physical reaction to Minho’s words. “Maybe I’ll let you have her again,” he continues. “Let you milk your cock with her instead of just jerking off to the thought of it.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, and you think he’s relenting—giving his friend a chance to catch his breath. Then he goes for the kill. “We’ve been talking about going off birth control…getting pregnant.” 

Jisung snaps his eyes to Minho, then to you—his hips stuttering into you. “Would you like to suck on her again? Once I’ve bred her.” That’s the end, one last pump deep inside and then he’s groaning. His cum joins your boyfriend’s, spilling out around his cock. You don’t have to see your boyfriend’s face to know how he looks, fucked out and cocky. He’ll take this as a win, wave it around in both of your faces for the foreseeable future. You couldn’t care less. 

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

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[artificialstardust]

Okay so I had a Noah thought while I was taking a bath

SO

I’m thinking about how both of you just had a relaxing evening. You had went to dinner at in and out or something, went for a drive up the coastline listening to your shared playlist. Maybe a milkshake or slushy to enjoy during it. You’d get home and just have some soft, sweet kisses after you walk through the door. Asking him if he’d want to take a bath with you before bed because it sounded nice.

Him telling you to get some waters (baths are hot and it’s worth having water) and your favorite candle and he’d get it ready with a kiss to your hairline. You’d get your water bottles from the cabinet, filling them with ice and water then getting your candle from the coffee table in the living room.

You’d get to the bathroom and he’d already have the bubbles going and a bath bomb in it to add to it. He has the towels in a towel warmer (you tried it when it got colder out and he ended up getting spoiled by it so you still use it occasionally in the warmer months), he has your favorite lotion on the counter, and a couple more random candles that don’t really smell like much lit already.

He’s sitting on the edge of the tub when you walk in, he gets a smile on his face when he sees you walk in. Noah would take the waters from you and put them on the floor next to the tub, then lighting the candle and setting it on the corner of it. “Wanted you to feel cozy, I brought my laptop in if you want to watch something” he’d tell you. The two of you end up deciding on howls moving castle (or something else if you’d like). You help each other undress and he’d sit in the tub first, then helping you in to sit in front of him. He has his arms on the sides so you could comfortably lay against him.

You’d rub your thumb on his thigh, just as a comforting thing. “You did good picking out the bubbles for the bath” “you were the one that picked it out so I hope so” he’d laugh. The sound warming your chest, making you smile. You’d bring a bubble covered hand up to the side of his face so you could kiss him. His arms moving to wrap around you. He’s a little shit sometimes so he’d try and tickle out, making you laugh and accidentally splash a little water over the edge.

After that you’d just sit in each other’s company for a while longer. At this point you’re halfway through the movie and decide to get out. He has you stand up so he can get your towel for you, drying you off and then wrapping it around you. He’d wrap his towel around your waist after, then would sit you on the edge of the counter (it’s a double sink counter in my mind) then would take some of your lotion in his hands and rub it onto your legs for you. He’d have you stand back up so he could help you with the rest. Never letting his hands linger for too long, but just appreciating how beautiful you are.

It’d catch him off guard when you offer to rub some onto him, but he lets you. He groans when you message it onto his back, then working it down his arms. When you get to his chest you would lean up and give him a kiss, making him smile. After you finish up he’d give you a playful swat to the ass telling you to go get dressed.

You’d dress in the usual undies (or shorts/pants if you have a preference for it!) and one of his shirts. He’d have on a pair of athletic shorts because he’ll probably spend half of the next day in them lounging about. Finally ending up in bed tangling together, the fan on high and the ac blasting.

“I love you, so much”

“I love you more Noah”

[kaciidubs]

sooo....i have returned with more crazy shit 😋

i dunno if you read,write,or like tarophilia or whatever its called. its like monster sex basically or just fairlytale sex in general i think.

but anyway i wanted to ask for alien!jisung with human!fem!reader? like a ship crashed into the forest next to readers home in the forest so she went to check it out. when she looked it was an alien boy. brown curly hair with black glasses perched on their nose with a stripped sweater and black sweatpants. she felt bad for him because he was bleeding from his head. she took him in and helped his wounds. after waiting he woke up. they talked since he asked what happened and ended up being friends (kind of)

after months of being friends then best friends, they got together. they were happy and reader liked her alien boyfriend. and jisung liked his human girlfriend. a bit later into the relationship they realized they never had sex. just making out and grinding. no more than that. but one day jisung wanted to eat out reader. she let him of course and when the sweet taste of her cunt hits his tongue he lost it. he went tongue deep into her tight hole. purple tongue trying to find the source of the sweet treat. while reader whimpered and whined about it being too much and telling him to slow down. clenching hard around his tounge. after hours of being down there and reader once again whining about it being too much and no more, he says "jus' one more baby. ill stop after yeah?" before going back tongue deep into her with his pale purple tongue. (he ends up being down there for another hour :])

(p.s. if you dont like this type of stuff it’s totally fine! i was half asleep doing this so dont feel bad and do it anyway since its long :] if you couldnt tell i have a oral fixation ˙𐃷˙)

-🪼

My darling jellyfish nonnie, I love this thought so much - also, I'm 100% a monster fucker [as shown by my Naga! Minho spooktober fic, plus the fact that I'd go on all fours for Werewolf! Chris in a heartbeat] so Alien! Jisung is right up my alley!!

I don't even know how I could expand on this other than sharing more horny-ish thoughts about it; like the fact that not only is his tongue purple, but it's long and he seems to produce more saliva than necessary - since, you know, he's an alien and all.

How the first time reader found that she had more than platonic feelings for Alien! Jisung, was when he discovered the joy of cheesecake and whipped cream - the pure joy that illuminated his face after the first bite, followed by the ecstasy after he finished his piece and looked at her with round eyes that begged for more.

Perhaps their first kiss, how it came about after watching Howl's Moving Castle [or, rewatching it, in her case] - the credits hadn't been running for more than two seconds before Jisung's face came into view and his lips were on hers. It didn't last long, and it was obvious that he didn't fully understand the connotation behind kissing when you questioned his very sudden, but not unwelcome, move. "Happy!" He'd reply, as small, fluttering chirping noises emanated from him - a sound she'd grown familiar with to understand it was something that occurred when he was, indeed, happy.

And then, it was when those timid, innocent touches of a curious first, actual, kiss turned into chasing that feeling of desire and need - the moment where best friends and something more became blurred, but neither one of them cared. It was when Jisung learned that feelings could be acted upon, that kissing wasn't the only way humans expressed their passion, and that maybe there weren't that many differences between your kind and his.

At least, not when it came to pleasure.

[kkami-writes]

Black Blood — chapter 11 cw. smut, subish!jisung, handjobs, cum consumption wc. 2.4k reference. han vlog

Most of the members are out this weekend, enjoying their limited free time as much as possible. Yet you can still hear Jisung, the boy is in his room and singing rather loudly. Eventually he quiets down, though honestly you didn’t mind it. The boy had such a beautiful voice that it surprised you that he was actually a rapper and not a vocalist. They could have told you he was apart of vocalracha and you’d believe them.

Moments later you can hear a knock at your door. You close your laptop before moving towards the door, finding Jisung behind it with a smile.

“Hi Ji, what’s up?”

“Well, me and Innie were supposed to go out today but he fell asleep on the couch. I don’t wanna disturb him so I was wondering if you’d like to watch a movie. I was thinking Howl’s moving castle since we talked about it last time,”

“Oh yeah, sure. Sounds fun,” You agree easily, turning off your lights before moving to follow Jisung back to his room. You walk through the living room and you almost coo at seeing the maknae knocked out on the couch. He looks like a sweet angel as he sleeps and you move to place a blanket over the boy.

You realize though that Jisung is not leading you to his room.

“Uh, isn’t this Felix’s room?” You question.

“Yeah but the wifi isn’t working in my room for some reason so Lixie is letting me use his room,”

You shrug, following the boy without another word. Jisung has his laptop under his arm, making his way to the bed, plopping down before patting the space next to him before going to set up the movie. You crawl over to the space, sitting rather close to the other due to the small bed. If Jisung is bothered by this, he doesn’t say anything.

The two of you get comfortable as he begins to let the movie play and you’re both content, sitting in silence to focus on the film. A giggle falls from your lips when Jisung begins to mime the actions of Howl in the movie, proving that he’s watch this about a million times before, having memorized most of it.

‘Merry-go-round of life begins to play and you find yourself swaying to the romantic sound of the piano. The piece is devastatingly beautiful, one of your favorites from the other ghibli films. You remember dreaming about dancing with someone to this song. Someone you loved.

You glance over at the boy next to you who is still very engrossed in the movie. You nibble at your lower lip, contemplating about asking Jisung. The worst he could do is say no, right?

“Hey,” You turn to the boy who also turns his head as you call out to him. “Will you let me indulge in something for a second?” Jisung tilts his head curiously but nods. You move to take the computer from his lap, pausing the movie before opening a new tab on youtube. You find a shorter version of the song and let it play as you place the computer so it’s out of the way. Crawling off the bed, you extend your hand out for the male to take. Jisung slides his palm into yours and you pull him up, moving your other hand to his shoulder.

He takes the hint well, placing his hand upon your waist before moving fluidly to the song. The two of you dance circles around Felix’s room, him twirling you a few times. Giggles fall from your lips as he happily sways you to the soft piano. It’s impossible to not admire the pretty boy in front of you, his heart shaped smile or the cute beauty mark on his full cheeks.

If your heart still beat you’re almost certain it would be throbbing against your ribcage. The feeling confuses you, it’s something you’ve never really felt before, even when you had been alive. Maybe once but it was something you’d rather forget.

You pull yourself closer so you can rest your chin on one of his shoulders and Jisung’s arms move so he can wrap them around your middle. The two of you move slower as the music starts to fade but even as the song ends, you stay in his embrace for a few more seconds. When you finally pull away, he’s looking at you with fondness swimming in those boba eyes. One of his hands move to your cheek, stroking the smooth skin with his thumb.

You’re pretty sure that your heart would be racing right about now with the way Jisung’s looking at you. He leans down just a little, your noses touched and you can feel his breath ghosting against your lips. He pulls your face towards him and presses his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt as you pull him flush against your body, melting against the embrace. Jisung’s lips are soft against yours, head tilting to get a better angle and it has you sighing softly.

But when Jisung’s tongue is swiping across your lower lip, the sensationsnaps you out of your daze, suddenly realizing what was happening. You push him away, a look of panic overtaking your features.

“Shit! Fuck. Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I just - I got caught up in the moment and,” Words continue to spill from your lips, unable to stop rambling. Jisung becomes nervous as he watches you freak out. He has to grab onto your forearms to get you to stop.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m the one who initiated,” Your mouth closes and opens again like a fish, no longer sure what to say. “Yes?” Jisung can see you want to ask something.

“Why did you kiss me then? What about your boyfriends? I don’t think they’ll be very happy if they find out,” You mumble out, gaze falling to the floor as you try to untangle yourself from his grip. It’s then that Jisung realizes that they haven’t actually told you anything yet, having trying to figure out when the right time would be. Right. He might have forgotten about that.

“Oh um. We might have, uh, already talked about it?” Even though he phrases it like a question, you know it’s not. You blink at him.

“What does that mean?” Jisung has the audacity to blush and look away from you. He begins to fiddle with his hands awkwardly.

“Well we um, just thought that if you had decided you wanted to feed on us, it would be okay? We all discussed that we’d all be interested in that. If it makes things easier we’d be! Happy to let you feed on us…We already feel really comfortable around you and so…yeah,” Now Jisung is the one rambling and you’re having trouble trying to keep up with him.

“Ok wait. Let me see if I have this right. All of you talked about me and agreed that if I wanted to fuck you guys to feed, it would be ok. That all of you have explicit permission to let me be intimate with me,”

“Uh. Yes. That is correct,”

You press your fingers to your temple, still trying to wrap your head around this revelation. These boys were going to be the death of you (ha, get it?)

“You know, usually you let a girl know that their boyfriends have given them permission to do stuff before you kiss her,” Your tone is light, letting him know you’re just teasing him. If you’re honest, of course you had thought about the boys in the way. You were a succubus for satan’s sake, in the presence of some seriously attractive boys but you had always known that they were together so you assumed they would be 100% off limits. So the proposition is interesting to say the least, and if they were willing, what was the harm of saying yes?

“Sorry…I might have forgotten that we hadn’t talked to you about it yet,” Very typical Jisung, he’s lucky he’s so cute.

You let out a soft sigh. “Well, I suppose it’s nice to know now,” The air becomes slightly awkward, neither of you knowing what to say. Jisung is the one who pipes up.

“So…can we continue then?” You look over at him, his round cheeks flushed. Seriously, he was way too adorable for his own good. Still, it gives you a nice little confidence boost you need.

“Yeah? You wanna kiss me that badly?” Your head tilts to the side, tongue running across your teeth and Jisung’s eyes zone in on the movement of your slick muscle.

“Yeah…” Jisung breathes out and you tug him closer to push him back onto the bed. You come to swing your legs over him, straddling the boy and moving your hands to cup his cheeks, tilting it so he’s looking up at you.

“You want a kiss baby boy?” Jisung swallows visibly, eyes never leaving yours.

“Please,” It’s the way he asks so sweetly that you can’t deny him anymore, leaning down to push your lips against his. Unlike the first kiss, this one isn’t sweet, it’s far more needy and intense. A whine falls from Jisung’s throat as your tongue traces along his bottom lip. He eagerly parts his tiers so you can slip the slick muscle into his wanting mouth. You take your sweet time exploring his mouth, his own tongue coming to lick at yours.

When you pull away to breath, Jisung looks absolutely breathtaking, his eyes half-lidded and lips swollen. It makes you grin, seeing your effect on the boy. As you take him in, you notice he has a mole in the juncture of his collarbone, getting the sudden urge to kiss it. So you do, trailing your lips from his jaw to his neck until they reach his collarbone. Jisung’s hands come to rest on your waist, throwing his head back to bare his neck to you.

You attach your lips to his smooth skin, sucking softly, not enough to leave a mark - at least not one that will last. Jisung’s bottom lip is between his teeth as he worries it, trying to not make any embarrassing noises. So you deliberately roll your hips down against his hips and a groan slips from his lips. He’s already hard, straining against his pants as he begins to push you harder down against him.

“So needy huh?” You hum, thoroughly enjoying how desperate he’s getting for you. He looks so gone already, pupils dilated and lips parted.

“Noona…please,” Jisung’s voice breaks, slightly croaky with how dry it feels.

“Please what?”

“Please…it hurts,”

“Aw, do you need some help baby?” He nods his head, continuing to try to move your hips against his aching clothed cock for any semblance of friction. You move to shimmy down just enough so that you’re in between his legs. Fingers move to undo his jeans, pushing them down so his cock flops out. Jisung is painfully hard, the tip flushed red and leaking precum. Saliva pools in your mouth before spitting directly against his cock, an action that has Jisung preening.

You wrap your fingers around his shaft, spreading your spit all along his cock to make the slide easier. Jisung’s head is thrown back, hips bucking up eagerly into your hand desperately. Normally you’d just edge him for that but you can tell how bad he needs it so you let it slide. You twist your hand as you stroke him off, paying attention to the head of his cock. Jisung is actively whining, begging for you to go faster.

So you oblige the poor boy, jerking him off faster and squeezing at his length. The only sounds in the room were Jisung’s moans and the lewd squelch of his slick cock. You lean up so you can press kisses to his neck and Jisung gasps, easily becoming more squirmy under you.

“Noona…Noona! ‘M close,” He mumbles out and you’re not surprised. Jisung had been so needy that it makes you wonder when is that last time he last had sex.

“Go ahead baby, cum whenever you want,” You let out a small hum, hand speeding up and thumb pressing against the tip. The moan Jisung lets out as he comes is borderline pornographic, thick white stripes landing on his stomach and your hand. Slowly you help him ride out his high, stroking him until he has to stop you.

You glance down at your cum stained hand. While you didn’t actually have to ingest semen to feed, it either being inside you or on your skin worked perfectly well. However, you’d be lying if you weren’t curious. So you bring your hand to your lips, licking at your stained fingers, letting out a hum at his surprisingly sweet taste. Jisung’s watching you slack jawed and hazy eyes. He thinks he probably would have gotten hard from watching you do that but he’s so exhausted, eyes threatening to close all the way.

“Fuck - why am I so tired?”

“Ah, that’s probably me. I also feed of the energy you release when you cum, making you much more tired than you probably would be. You’ll get used to it though,” You run your clean hand through his sweaty bangs, pushing them out of his face. You slip off of him, going to the bathroom and return back with a damp washcloth. You help clean the boy up whose about to pass out. Jisung is able to pull his pants back up before he’s all but collapsing against his pillows.

You giggle at the boy, moving to get up to let him get some rest. He grabs onto your wrist though, stopping you in your tracks. You turn around to look back at him, head tilted.

“Mm, will you stay?” He asks, voice heavy as sleep threatens to take over. A smile graces your face and you simply move to crawl back onto the bed, pulling the boy close to you, his head resting upon your chest.

“Um, let’s not tell Lix what we did in his bed ok? Just a secret between you and me?” Jisung mumbles out before dreamland finally takes him.

“Yeah, agreed,”

a/n: ok look, I know what you're thinking. kaia??? howls moving castle again? FIRST OF ALL!!!! Jisung is just so ghibli coded and that's not my fault. SECOND OF ALL!!! that's what he literally did in this vlog so, not my fault again <3 Also finally!! we're here, it's about to get reaaaaaaaally spicy now ^^

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[euphoricfilter]

"Here we go, the 3am zoomies..." Yoongi. Hybrid, fluff. -🖤

strawberry ice cream:

pairing: carpenter! yoongi x bunny hybrid! reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au || hybrid au ||

summary: yoongi’s solution to your 3am outbursts always ended in sweet kisses that tasted of sweet coffee and strawberry ice cream.

word count: 1.2k

tags/ warnings: fluff, yoongi being the softy he is <3 reader is a howl’s moving castle enthusiast

notes: prompt from this drabble game!!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Yoongi knew exactly what he was getting himself into when Namjoon had asked if you could come and stay with him. a new permanent home for you, and a new friend for Yoongi.

because as much as he’d hate to admit it, Yoongi had spent months researching bunny hybrids before he’d even been offered to house you. where he’d been cocooned in blankets of an evening, absorbed into his own little bubble of the internet where he’d be able to learn anything and everything about the life of a bunny hybrid; and what he as a human could do to provide the proper care for your kind.

it wasn’t that he didn’t trust Namjoon to properly take care of you. he knew you’d have a cozy little life with the author, house much bigger than his little apartment where you’d have your own back garden to hop around in, and an owner more than happy to indulge in your strict diet and strange little habits.

it wasn’t that he didn’t trust Namjoon to properly take care of you. he knew you’d have a cozy little life with the author, house much bigger than his little apartment where you’d have your own back garden to hop around in, and an owner more than happy to indulge in your strict diet and strange little habits.

it’s just, Yoongi had been enamoured by you minutes after your first introduction and he hadn’t been able to shake the feeling off since. fingers always itching to tease over the base of your ears, fur the prettiest shade of snow white and the cutest little squeak you’d let out when surprised. you were bashful, never too loud though he’d caught onto your little bursts of pent-up energy which would shine through—ever so pretty and ever so perfect, Yoongi couldn’t help the saccharine fondness that slithered its way into his heart.

Namjoon loved you, he truly did, just as much as you loved him back— but with his rise in fame and touring the country for book tours for weeks on end with no sign of this new life fizzling out, he couldn’t be around as much as you needed him to be. and so, the solution; Yoongi.

a solution you hadn’t been upset with, because Yoongi had a habit of spoiling you more than Namjoon did.

the carpenter didn't mind an extra pair of hands around the workshop, endeared when you’d take a catnap on the worn-down couch at the back of room, where your little bunny ears would twitch with every clatter of his tools hitting the work surface or the gentle ding of the bell above the door.

he’d spend most evenings carving out little bunnies that you’d paint of a morning before you helped sweep the floors after lunch— rewarded with a tub of fluffy strawberry ice cream and a coffee-mingled kiss before Yoongi got back to work for the afternoon. both humming along to whatever plays on the radio until the sun sets and you’re wriggling around, always hungry just as the shop is ready to close up for the night.

you’d read on the windowsill, slices of orange sunlight warming your cheeks, often distracted as you simply people watch; giving Yoongi a running commentary on everyone that passes the shop, or how maybe you should one day get a dog together.

“i already have a cute bunny, why would i need a dog?” you hadn’t been able to see his smile with his back turned to you, but you could hear it in his voice.

he’d muffled a laugh, drowned out by the slick noise of chipping wood when he’d seen the strawberry-ice cream pink hue dusting your cheeks.

it had always been a little ironic how much you loved anything that bounced. a little habit Namjoon had left out when making sure Yoongi knew every little detail about you. a habit that took months for him to figure out.

he’d been out grocery shopping, and you’d been so invested in Howl’s Moving Castle, flopped over the couch, he’d simply left you to finish the movie while he’d run some errands. not expecting you to be jumping on the couch when he’d gotten home.

you’d been embarrassed, fumbling to apologize, but Yoongi hadn’t cared all that much— not when you looked the happiest, you’d been since moving in with him.  

and it had been cute until the first couch broke, springs snapping under the weight of your constant bouncing.

you’d cried, and Yoongi had held you until you’d hiccupped in his arms with a watery apology that he silenced with a kiss to your forehead, and enough reassurance that he wasn’t mad, his own panic sizzling mellow when you stopped falling head-first into a panic attack.

after the second couch had folded, you’d moved to the bed, wary that Yoongi’s patience could surely only run so thin when this is the second time you’d ruined a piece of furniture.

“what’s this?” Yoongi had patted over the mattress one evening, divot a little more noticeable when he pulls the duvet away. it felt like déjà vu, pearly tears glazing your cheeks with stuttered out apologies and gentle kisses to placate your worries; because Yoongi could never find it in himself to get mad at you, not when he knows you hadn’t done it on purpose.

he’d bought you a mini trampoline for the living room, an easy solution to this problem. the perfect solution even, with you hopping in the living room and his furniture fully intact, really Yoongi felt like he’d outdone himself this time round.

it was a noise complaint from the downstairs neighbours that had the trampoline shucked onto the balcony, your feet thumping a little harder against the floor on the days it was too cold to go out there and bounce. truly a problem on nights like these when you just couldn’t seem to settle down. bouncing from one room to another, almost burning your arm while he’s been cooking.

“here we go, the 3am zoomies” Yoongi grunts, no venom behind his words at all, if anything he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips, “hey! no bouncing on the couch” he wags a finger at you in warning.

you hop off the couch, “but yoongi” you whine, your ears flopping over your forehead, and Yoongi sighs.

“i know, doll. how about we go out?”

“where?” you bounce on your toes, hands falling on Yoongi’s shoulders when you almost trip over the edge of the rug; his hands falling onto your hips to hold you steady.

“what do you think about ice cream?”

“strawberry?”

and Yoongi laughs when he catches sight of your tail twitching from over your shoulder, cottony fur erratic with excitement.

“if that’s what you want, bun” he smooths your ears down the back of your head, tickling the base with the tips of his fingers; and you shiver in his hold, practically vibrating in his arms.

“let’s go” you tug on his sleeve.

“you need to put your shoes on first, my love” he reminds you, letting you tie your laces in the car, his own excitement hard to contain when you looked this happy.

nights like these were Yoongi’s favourite, knees knocking with one another as you sit on stools by the window of the convenience store, one of your hands tucked in his pocket to keep warm, fingers laced.

Yoongi’s kisses always tasted sugary sweet from the coffee, your tongue peeking out for a taste, a little more addicting than the bitter stuff he drank at home.

and Yoongi would chase after your lips, kissing you back because it tasted like strawberry ice cream and forever promises of a future where the two of you could stay like this forever.

the sweetness of your lips sating his sweet tooth, and cementing his ever-growing love in your heart, knowing you’d found a home in his.

🍓thank you for reading <3 feedback is always encouraged!!

[beenbaanbuun]

Hi hi! I hope life is treating you well and you’re drinking lots of water and resting well!

I would love to hear your thoughts on dragon!San the brainrot for him has been real lately 😭💖

so this actually changed the chemical infrastructure of my brain and i couldn’t decide how to write it so i hope this is okay 😭😭

——————————————————————————

so ask anyone who i speak to on a regular basis and this is all i’ve been able to talk about for days because i have so many ideas for it

arguably too many for me to even begin to think about structuring them in a way that makes sense…

but hey, we can try right?

so initially my first thought was ‘omg, i’m going to make this little guy so sad…’ and i will! but i promise it will make sense

so san is a people person—or dragon, i guess—right? sure, he’s a little shy but at the end of the day, you can tell he loves being around people

all throughout his childhood he wanted nothing more than to work with kids, maybe be a teacher or something! he’s good at helping people, right?

it just sucks for the poor guy that as he got older, he started to get bigger, his nails started to grow into something akin to talons, and his canine teeth became sharp and menacing

there’s a reason you never really see any dragon-hybrid teachers…

the day san got kicked off of his teacher-training course was probably the saddest day of his life, but at least he had you at home! the most precious jewel in all of his hoard…

honestly, san would love nothing more than to keep you bundled up in his den, wrapped in all six of his limbs—are wings limbs?—to keep you protected from the outside world

realistically, though, he’s all too aware of a humans needs to keep you indoors

you’re like a houseplant with the way you need sun to survive

he also knows that you need to work, since it’s borderline impossible for him to get a job

he’s too scary to work with people, too drawn to shiny things to work with money and too underqualified to work a 9-5

he always feels guilty that you’re the main breadwinner for the household, but he doesn’t mind being a house-husband all that much

he’s more than content taking care of his hoard, after all, and since you are his most prized possession…

speaking of his hoard, it’s kind of littered about the apartment, although most of it is in your bedroom

necklaces and jewels hang from the living room’s light, making it look closer to a chandelier than a regular lampshade

gold and silver appliances are his favourite making the kitchen look somewhat gaudy in comparison to what it originally looked like

as for your bedroom, it looks rather similar to howl’s…

in fact san was almost giddy when you first showed him howl’s moving castle, pointing at the screen with a wicked grin on his face

“see! its not just me who likes to decorate like this!”

you don’t have the heart to tell him that howls moving castle is just make believe and no one decorates like him…

but you suppose it’s not so bad; san dusts it from time to time and the things that dangle from the ceiling are perfect for you to zone out and stare at whenever san is rushing around looking for something to clean you up with after fucking you dumb :)

because let’s be real, dragon!san definitely has a huge cock to match the rest of his body

and despite his sweet demeanour outside of the bedroom, he’s an absolute demon inside of it

he’s possessive, more than anything, so if you ever come home smelling of anything other than him, then you best believe you’re being whisked away to the bedroom the second you step food through the front door

hands will be on you before you even know it, talons tearing at clothes and stripping you naked before you even get chance to tell him that this shirt is far too expensive to tear

you don’t even get much chance to protest after he’s torn it from you either because his lips will be on yours and his forked tongue will already be lapping at the inside of your mouth like his life depends on it

everything happens so quick because he’s just so desperate to make sure you know that you’re his again

he needs each one of your senses to be filled by him, he needs your mind to only think of him, he needs your pussy to be dripping with him

he knows he doesn’t own you but he needs to feel like he does

when he’s like this, it’s always quick. he needs to fuck you hard and fast before that strange smell that doesn’t belong to him sinks into your skin and stays there forever!

it’s purely instinct driven, really…

and maybe later he’ll take you for round two, only this time he wants to actually savour you

now you smell like him again, he can relax as he forces his cock inside of you

he can take his time kissing you and making you feel like the most beautiful person alive

he can let his hands trace every inch of your body, appreciating every dip and curve you have

and once it’s over, he can sit there with his cock still plugging you up and appreciate your blissed out face as you recover from what can only be described as a heavenly experience

[lcdrarry]

LCDrarry 2024 Master List Part 1: Podfic & Art & Fic

Dear lovely Participants, Creators, Alpha and Beta Readers, Cheerleaders, Readers and Fans of this fest,

The 6th installment of LCDrarry has come to an end, and we'd like to thank you all for taking part in this fest, for creating so many amazing new Drarry works for us all to enjoy, for commenting on your favourite creations, for sharing and recommending the LCDrarry gems with and to your friends and blog followers, and for making this fest another amazing experience for everybody!

Fests would not exist without their participants or readers! You're all amazing! And we're so happy that you chose this fest in the vast and wonderful offerings of HP and Drarry events.

You can find out under the cut who created what ;D

~Your LCDrarry Mods Tami (@celilasart) and Suzi (@erin-riwen)

PS: Please have a look at the author notes and tags on AO3 for additional information and more detailed warnings. Thank you! PPS: You can find a link to Part 2 of this Master List under the cut. Enjoy!

Part 2 of this Master List with more lovely fics can be found here.

***

Podfic

***

A Mist That Appears (For a Little Time)

Prompt: “Sweet November,” 2001, Pat O’Connor Written by: dodgerkedavra Narrated by: reveriepi Podfic Length: 02:25:58 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Vomiting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

Summary: “Give me November, and I’ll teach you to be happy. There’s only one condition. You must swear on your magic that you won’t fall in love with me.” Harry’s so tired. His whole body hurts. If Malfoy can teach him how to be happy, then... “Okay.” Harry is working himself to death. Draco only has November to help him. Falling in love is strictly against the rules.

***

As You Wish

Prompt: "The Princess Bride", 1987, Rob Reiner Written by: Pineau_noir Narrated by: Cailynwrites Podfic Length: 02:31:28 Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Summary: Draco was raised on a farm in the small country of Witshire; his favourite pastimes were flying on his broom and tormenting the hired farm boy. Though his name was Harry, Draco never called him that. On Harry's forehead there was a scar shaped like a lightning bolt, so Draco called him Scarhead.

Nothing gave Draco as much pleasure as ordering Harry around.

Or a story about fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, True Love, and miracles.

***

The Pirc Defence

Prompt: "The Queen’s Gambit", 2019, Scott Frank Written by: sleepstxtic Narrated by: sweaters_in_the_summer Podfic Length: 01:05:00 Rating: Explicit Warnings: None

Summary: They were rivals, and they were lovers, and they were the greatest chess players of their generation. Exactly in that order.

***

My Big Fat Weasley Wedding

Prompt: “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”, 2002, Joel Zwick Written by: slyth_princess Narrated by: Melcarrianna Podfic Length: 07:17:21 Rating: Mature Warnings: None

Summary: A decade after the war, Harry Potter is lost. There was a time when he knew exactly who he was, where he was going, and what he wanted. He is not that man anymore. Until one day he decides he is done. No more wearing clothes that don't fit, stuck in a job that was meant to be temporary, and simply coasting through his life. He has a plan. And, unsurpisingly, every single Weasley and honourary Weasley seems to have an opinion about it. But it's fine. Harry knows he is doing the right thing.

What he didn't plan for, however, was to find love in the most unexpected place. And with the most unexpected person. Still, it's going to be fine. Like he said, he has a plan. Weasley opinions be damned. He's got it all under control. Doesn't he?

Featuring a million Weasleys, a daft labrador, and a whole bunch of people just trying to figure out their lives.

***

Art

***

Draco's Moving Castle

Prompt: "Howl's Moving Castle", 2004, Hayao Miyazaki Artist: Averily Art Medium: Digital Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None

Summary: Art for LCDrarry2024 fest. Prompt was Howl's Moving Castle.

***

Go the Whole Wide World

Prompt: "Stranger than Fiction", 2006, Marc Forster Artists: julchen_in_red and m4g0rtz Medium: Digital Art Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None

Summary: When government employee Draco Crick was assigned to audit baker Harry Pascal, neither anticipated falling in love, but sometimes the person right next to you is the most welcome surprise.

***

[Art] A Game of Horcruxes

Prompt: "Game of Thrones", 2011, David Benioff Artist: fantalf Art Medium: Digital Art Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Duelling, Horcruxes, Blood and Injury

Summary: Art Post for "A Game of Horcruxes" written by sleepstxtic.

***

Illustrated Fic

***

[Fic & Art] A Game of Horcruxes

Prompt: "Game of Thrones", 2011, David Benioff Author: sleepstxtic Word Count: 118,635 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Brief Descriptions of Injury, Racism, Classism

Summary: It has been centuries since an attack on the castle of a royal scion. Centuries, until now.

The Realm of Hogwarts is ruled by eight noble Slytherin families, aided by their Gryffindor armies. Each kingdom possesses a Horcrux—the most precious source of magic to the throne. But when the Kingdom of Malfoy finds their Horcrux stolen, Prince Draco must break all protocol and enlist the help of a commoner, Harry, to find what's missing. All the while, an evil beyond the horizon stirs, Dementor attacks are increasing, and civil unrest is burning across the land. Can Draco and Harry recover the Horcrux and save the realm? And will they be able to resist their growing attraction to each other in the meantime?

***

A Ferret, a ScarHead, a Weasel, and a Baby

Prompt: "Three Men and a Baby", 1987, Leonard Nimoy & "Taken", 2008, Pierre Morel Author: trishjames Word Count: 91,420 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Angst, Anxiety, Epic Fight Scene(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Hand-to-Hand Combat, Blood, Muggle Weapons, References to Past Child Abuse, Abduction, Injuries

Summary: They say becoming a parent is an unparalleled, priceless joy. Draco Malfoy finds himself putting that theory to the test when the star witness in his dangerous illegal potions case entrusts him with a powerful wish: protect her newborn baby at all costs. Now, it's up to Draco to fulfill that wish despite the looming threat of criminals hunting for the child. To think, just the day before, he was fretting over his inappropriate feelings for his annoying, bespectacled git of a housemate—not the mechanics of changing nappies!

Thank Merlin it takes a village to raise a sack of flour, ah, child.

***

Fic

***

White, Blonde & British

Prompt: “Red, White & Royal Blue”, 2023, Matthew Lopez Author: SortofShea Word Count: 40,058 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Mentions of death, drug and alcohol use and abuse, homophobia, racism, discrimination

Summary: Prince Draco Malfoy is known all over the world as “The Modern Day Prince Charming”, ask anyone - well, anyone except for Harry Potter, first son of the Indian president and (self) sworn rival of said stuck-up, snobbish prince.

***

drag the past out into the light

Prompt: "Se7en", 1995, David Fincher Author: ChaosBitch Word Count: 20,796 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Summary: There's a serial killer stalking magical London. The murders are gruesome, bizarre, and somehow connected to the Voldemort wars. Auror Harry Potter is paired up with an analyst from the Department of Mysteries to piece together the clues in the killer's unsettling game before they kill again.

The good news? This analyst is the best one on offer. The bad news? It's Draco Malfoy.

***

the beating of our hearts (is the only sound)

Prompt: "Pacific Rim", 2013, Guillermo del Toro Author: Pineau_noir Word Count: 12,675 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: canon (Pacific Rim) creature grossness

Summary: Do you want awesome, kickass fights between giant robots and aliens??!?!?

Go watch Pacific Rim.

This is a story about two flawed men who fall in love during an apocalypse.

***

Draco Malfoy's New Guide to Old-Fashioned Dating

Prompt: "How to Lose a Guy in 10 days", 2003, Donald Petrie Author: caliowl Word Count: 52,377 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Non-Consensual Drug Use

Summary: When Harry's job as an auror is threatened by his perceived negative attitude towards Death Eaters, he makes a desperate gamble with his boss to save it. Bring a Death Eater as his plus-one to the company holiday party. Unfortunately for him, there's only one person he can think of to ask...

Meanwhile, in order to save his best friend Pansy Parkinson from a terrible social fate, Draco Malfoy makes a bet with Pansy's mother. He believes that old-fashioned, traditional courting methods are the best way to repel, not attract, a potential suitor. Now, if only he can find a wizard who has no clue about those methods...

***

Black Sheep

Prompt: "Shaun the Sheep", 2007-2020 Author: shushu_yaoi_lj Word Count: 10,808 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: smut, dirty talk, praise kink, soft d/s dynamics, begging

Summary: “You know, Potter, maybe all you need to win is a little—incentive, let’s say.” “An incentive?” Harry asks, his interest piqued. He takes a step closer to the fence, and then another one, until he’s standing so close that he can smell the intoxicating scent of Malfoy’s expensive cologne. “Shall we say that if you win, you can have whatever your heart desires?” Malfoy replies with a smile. “Anything.”

***

Jackknife To The Heart

Prompt: "Mad Max: Furiosa", 2024, George Miller Author: sleepstxtic Word Count: 11,723 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Gunfights

Summary: Draco licked his lips, slow and sensual. He climbed over Harry’s lap and slid down onto his knees. “Keep making love to me, darling,” he said, gazing up at Harry, something starry in his eyes; and then he pulled down Harry’s pants and took his cock in his mouth.

Harry sucked in a breath, threw the shifter into gear, and drove.

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First Impressions

Prompt: "Pride and Prejudice", 2005, Joe Wright Author: ActuallyMoon Word Count: 87,934 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Period-typical racism and colourism (only present in one chapter), A/B/O dynamics, Dubious Consent, Classism, Smut, Mpreg

Summary: At the Shacklebolts' ball, Ginny found herself irrevocably smitten at first sight with Ms Pansy Parkinson. Meanwhile, her brother, Harry Potter, became the unfortunate target of biting remarks from Parkinson's haughty and aloof best friend, Mr Draco Malfoy. Harry's disdain for Mr Malfoy grew, fuelled by the latter's evident arrogance. Amidst this burgeoning animosity, Ms Romilda Vane began to spread malicious rumours regarding Malfoy, further tarnishing his reputation. Yet, the true nature of his character was far from what these tales suggested. Could Draco overcome his pride and Harry his prejudice, allowing love to blossom between them despite the odds?

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Obscuro

Prompt: "Love is Blind", 2020 Author: stratigraphy Word Count: 35,227 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: None

Summary: Draco is grieving. His conversation partner is here against his will. It's a shameless rip-off of an insipid Muggle reality dating show. Hardly the occasion for true love, if you ask Draco. feat. a cat named Marmalade, a bird named Mumble, Lee Jordan's answer to Love is Blind, and two best friends who only want their dads to be happy.

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Eternalism is a Never Ending Day

Prompt: "Russian Doll", 2019 Author: JK_Terfling_Can_Suck_My_Silicone_Dick Word Count: 25,970 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Temporary Suicide, Temporary MCD, implied/referenced Depression

Summary: Malfoy has been reliving the same day for longer than he can keep track of now, and has just assumed that he was dead in the real world, which was fine to him. It isn't until the time loop stops doing what he expects that it occurs to him that maybe there's something else going on.

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Part 2 of this Master List with more lovely fics can be found here.

As always, reblogs here on tumblr are very much appreciated to share all the wonderful works of LCDrarry with more people. But of course, please also shower our creators with comments and kudos on AO3 ;D Thank you! Read you next year ;)

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

I have a few jumbled thoughts about the ending of the Long Night, especially as it would relate to the whole idea of “the dragon has three heads”. The Long Night represents a disruption in a larger, cyclical framework—a period where imbalance overtakes the natural order. And within this context, I see each ‘head’ of the three-headed dragon as uniquely responsible for restoring balance and bringing the world back into harmony. Each ‘head’ embodies a distinct facet of restoring balance to the world, yet they work together, either in tandem or sequentially, to set things right once more. So I’ve been trying to tie together some thoughts I have regarding what each being in this triumvirate is uniquely suited to do. Because I personally don’t think any one person will be responsible for being the hero, as that just seems so antithetical to this series; and I also think the Long Night is just way too multifaceted to be ended by a singular action or person. 

This is what we know about the Long Night:

“Oh, my sweet summer child,” Old Nan said quietly, “what do you know of fear? Fear is for the winter, my little lord, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep and the ice wind comes howling out of the north.Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides its face for years at a time, and little children are born and live and die all in darkness while the direwolves grow gaunt and hungry, and the white walkers move through the woods.” “You mean the Others,” Bran said querulously. “The Others,” Old Nan agreed. “Thousands and thousands of years ago, a winter fell that was cold and hard and endless beyond all memory of man. There came a night that lasted a generation, and kings shivered and died in their castles even as the swineherds in their hovels. Women smothered their children rather than see them starve, and cried, and felt their tears freeze on their cheeks.” Her voice and her needles fell silent, and she glanced up at Bran with pale, filmy eyes and asked, “So, child. This is the sort of story you like?” “Well,” Bran said reluctantly, “yes, only …” Old Nan nodded. “In that darkness, the Others came for the first time,” she said as her needles went click click click. “They were cold things, dead things, that hated iron and fire and the touch of the sun, and every creature with hot blood in its veins. They swept over holdfasts and cities and kingdoms, felled heroes and armies by the score, riding their pale dead horses and leading hosts of the slain. All the swords of men could not stay their advance, and even maidens and suckling babes found no pity in them. They hunted the maids through frozen forests, and fed their dead servants on the flesh of human children.” (Bran IV, AGoT)

We focus so heavily on the Others—understandably so—that we often overlook some crucial details. The Others don’t exist in isolation. They arrive in the wake of an extreme winter, which enables their existence for they are “demons made of snow and ice and cold” (Samwell V, ASoS). And with the sun and its heat gone, they move within the darkness. So confronting the Others in battle, in and of itself, does not end the Long Night. The true struggle lies in addressing the elements that allow them to exist in the first place. To fully defeat the Others, our heroes must first restore light and the balance of the seasons.

No single character in this series has the ability to achieve this on their own. Even the key magical protagonists are only equipped to address certain aspects of the conflict. That’s why the dragon must have three heads, each embodying a crucial responsibility: one to restore the natural cycle and end the long winter, another uniquely positioned as the antithesis to the Others, and a third tasked with confronting darkness by bringing light back into the world.

By now, you can see where I’m heading with this, right? I believe the three heads are Bran, who represents summer and stands as the antithesis to winter; Daenerys, whose dragons are the direct counter to the Others; and Jon, who occupies a more complex role as both the one who harnesses light and embodies it. Beyond this, each of these characters has been positioned as a chosen one, with distinct yet mirrored magical destinies that set them apart from the other POV characters.

I’m reminded of a quote from Arya’s POV in Dance:

One time, the girl remembered, the Sailor’s Wife had walked her rounds with her and told her tales of the city’s stranger gods. “That is the house of the Great Shepherd. Three-headed Trios has that tower with three turrets. The first head devours the dying, and the reborn emerge from the third. I don’t know what the middle head’s supposed to do….”

While I have more detailed thoughts on this passage, for now, I believe Daenerys represents the first head, Bran the third, and Jon the middle. Each head is tasked with a unique responsibility—one that is specific to them, that the others cannot fulfill. To end the Long Night, the three heads work together, but each plays a distinct part. There is some overlap, particularly with the middle head, who might serve as the balance between the extremes, yet each figure is positioned to occupy a particular space within this framework.

So I want to lay my thoughts here and see if we can get some wider discussion 👀 

The first aspect of the Long Night - and perhaps the most important if we’re thinking of what makes it happen in the first place - is the long winter that precedes it.

Bran looked down. There was nothing below him now but snow and cold and death, a frozen wasteland…  (Bran III, AGoT)

This winter provides the very elements that sustain the Others: snow and ice. It’s this aspect that I believe extends humanity’s struggle during the Long Night. With an almost endless supply of ice and snow, can our heroes truly defeat the Others through direct combat alone? I really don’t think so. The abundance of snow, accompanied by a persistent cold, suggests that new Others can continuously be ‘created’. While this is largely speculative given how little we know about them, I find it compelling that the Others seem to materialize out of the darkness itself (see Prologue, AGoT). And when Sam kills the Other in Storm, it simply dissolves…

Sam rolled onto his side, eyes wide as the Other shrank and puddled, dissolving away. In twenty heartbeats its flesh was gone, swirling away in a fine white mist. Beneath were bones like milkglass, pale and shiny, and they were melting too.

And that might not mean much in and of itself, but I’m inclined to think of the ADWD prologue:

The white world turned and fell away. For a moment it was as if he were inside the weirwood, gazing out through carved red eyes as a dying man twitched feebly on the ground and a madwoman danced blind and bloody underneath the moon, weeping red tears and ripping at her clothes. Then both were gone and he was rising, melting, his spirit borne on some cold wind. He was in the snow and in the clouds, he was a sparrow, a squirrel, an oak. A horned owl flew silently between his trees, hunting a hare; Varamyr was inside the owl, inside the hare, inside the trees. Deep below the frozen ground, earthworms burrowed blindly in the dark, and he was them as well. I am the wood, and everything that’s in it, he thought, exulting. A hundred ravens took to the air, cawing as they felt him pass. A great elk trumpeted, unsettling the children clinging to his back. A sleeping direwolf raised his head to snarl at empty air.

The Other and the human skinchanger dissolving after “death” is so fascinating. And it raises many questions. Death wasn’t the end for Varamyr as his spirit went into his wolf. So is that the same with the Other who also dissolved into white air? As long as magic and suitable conditions (i.e., winter and all its elements) exist, then the Others can never truly die and thus could take on another form?

If that’s the case, then winter itself must be addressed to cut off the Others’ vital resources—along with the magic that sustains them, though we’ll get to that later. And who better to combat winter if not Bran Stark of “Winter-fell”?

Now you know, the crow whispered as it sat on his shoulder. Now you know why you must live. “Why?” Bran said, not understanding, falling, falling. Because winter is coming. […] Bran touched his forehead, between his eyes. The place where the crow had pecked him was still burning, but there was nothing there, no blood, no wound. He felt weak and dizzy. He tried to get out of bed, but nothing happened. And then there was movement beside the bed, and something landed lightly on his legs. He felt nothing. A pair of yellow eyes looked into his own, shining like the sun. The window was open and it was cold in the room, but the warmth that came off the wolf enfolded him like a hot bath. His pup, Bran realized … or was it? He was so big now. He reached out to pet him, his hand trembling like a leaf. When his brother Robb burst into the room, breathless from his dash up the tower steps, the direwolf was licking Bran’s face. Bran looked up calmly. “His name is Summer,” he said.

Bran’s wolf, a reflection of his own identity, only receives his name after Bran glimpses his magical destiny. With winter’s horrors looming, Bran must become the summer that rises to challenge it.

As the Prince of Winterfell, Bran’s title and inheritance—rooted in the Stark legacy from the first Long Night and Bran the Builder—signify a dominance over winter. He is the summer prince, heir to the place where “winter fell, defeated”.

“And who is Summer?” Jojen prompted. “My direwolf.” He smiled. “Prince of the green.”

Prince. The man-sound came into his head suddenly, yet he could feel the rightness of it. Prince of the green, prince of the wolfswood. He was strong and swift and fierce, and all that lived in the good green world went in fear of him. (Bran I, ASoS)

Because winter brings death to the land, summer is needed to restore warmth, vitality, and breathe life back into the world. And that’s why Bran’s identity not just as the “prince of the green”, but as the last of the greenseers (of course once Bloodraven kicks the bucket) puts him in a unique position during the Long Night. 

He will be the one to end the winter.

I’m still piecing together what this might ultimately look like, as we need more information about greenseeing and how Bran may fully harness it. However, from what we do know, it seems greenseeing is extends to earth magic—shaping and manipulating the natural world, as seen with events like the Hammer of the Waters. Additionally, greenseers can perceive past, present, and future, which essentially aligns with the passage of time. And isn’t that what the cyclical nature of the seasons embodies? Time flows, and with it come physical changes in the land: winter brings barrenness, spring rebirth, and summer growth. Humanity needs someone who understands this cycle and possesses the power to influence the earth itself.

Since Bran has already glimpsed the heart of winter, it’s possible he will find himself returning there, perhaps retracing the steps of the last hero. Additionally, the Isle of Faces and the God’s Eye, rich with weirwoods and sacred significance, seem like fitting locations for him to play a pivotal role in restoring balance; especially when we consider his role as a Fisher King/Grail figure who is linked with the renewal of once barren land. Whether Bran has to dig deep into the earth’s roots or manipulate the flow of time itself, the Long Night cannot end without his dominance over winter.

However, while restoring the balance of the seasons is crucial, neutralizing the immediate threat posed by the Others and their thralls is extremely important- and that’s where Dany comes in!

That night she dreamt that she was Rhaegar, riding to the Trident. But she was mounted on a dragon, not a horse. When she saw the Usurper’s rebel host across the river they were armored all in ice, but she bathed them in dragonfire and they melted away like dew and turned the Trident into a torrent. Some small part of her knew that she was dreaming, but another part exulted. This is how it was meant to be. (Dany III, ASoS)

I’ve argued before that, of our three chosen ones, Dany is the best suited to take on the role of military commander—and I don’t think that’s a far-fetched claim. She has one of the cleanest and most impressive military records in the main series, proving herself a formidable tactician. Not to mention, she commands the dragons—living embodiments of fire—who have been positioned as the direct counter to the Others, creatures of ice. While the Others bring cold and death, Dany and her dragons are fire made flesh, a force of life and renewal.

There are other narrative arguments for why Dany’s role is going to be so heavily militaristic. 

Until one day Prince Rhaegar found something in his scrolls that changed him. No one knows what it might have been, only that the boy suddenly appeared early one morning in the yard as the knights were donning their steel. He walked up to Ser Willem Darry, the master-at-arms, and said, ‘I will require sword and armor. It seems I must be a warrior.’” (Dany I, ASoS)

“No one ever looked for a girl,” he said. “It was a prince that was promised, not a princess. Rhaegar, I thought … the smoke was from the fire that devoured Summerhall on the day of his birth, the salt from the tears shed for those who died. He shared my belief when he was young, but later he became persuaded that it was his own son who fulfilled the prophecy, for a comet had been seen above King’s Landing on the night Aegon was conceived, and Rhaegar was certain the bleeding star had to be a comet. What fools we were, who thought ourselves so wise! The error crept in from the translation. Dragons are neither male nor female, Barth saw the truth of that, but now one and now the other, as changeable as flame. The language misled us all for a thousand years. Daenerys is the one, born amidst salt and smoke. The dragons prove it.” (Samwell IV, AFFC)

“Azor Ahai, beloved of R’hllor! The Warrior of Light, the Son of Fire! Come forth […]” (Davos I, ACoK)

Azor Ahai is said to be a warrior, and while Dany doesn’t fit the traditional image of what that means, she is still an active participant in warfare. Moreover, one of the central aspects of her character is her role as an agent of freedom:

“…this Mother of Dragons, this Breaker of Chains, is above all a rescuer.” (Tyrion VI, ADWD)

She has spent much of her arc directly combating slavery which might seem unrelated, but the Others come with their own type of bondage in their creations of undead. The slavery of the Others is not just physical, but spiritual, and Dany’s role in battling them aligns with her fight for freedom. She isn’t suited to combat winter itself, as Bran is, but her strength lies in physical battle, which Bran is not. To put it another way: if Bran is Frodo journeying into the depths of Mordor, Dany is Aragorn, turning Sauron’s eye with her dragons and leading the fight to defeat his armies.

But I don’t think her role ends there. 

The Others are not dead. They are strange, beautiful… think, oh… the Sidhe made of ice, something like that… a different sort of life… inhuman, elegant, dangerous. SSM

I’ve already mentioned that beyond the elements of winter—snow, ice, and cold—the Others are sustained by magic. Building on the idea of the Other dissolving into mist, it’s possible that magic is what binds these beings together: magic fuses a consciousness with snow and ice into a corporeal entity. So, in addition to battling them physically, our heroes—and Dany in particular—may have to confront this magic that gives the Others their form and power.

“Half a year gone, that man could scarcely wake fire from dragonglass. He had some small skill with powders and wildfire, sufficient to entrance a crowd while his cutpurses did their work. He could walk across hot coals and make burning roses bloom in the air, but he could no more aspire to climb the fiery ladder than a common fisherman could hope to catch a kraken in his nets.” Dany looked uneasily at where the ladder had stood. Even the smoke was gone now, and the crowd was breaking up, each man going about his business. In a moment more than a few would find their purses flat and empty. “And now?” “And now his powers grow, Khaleesi. And you are the cause of it.” “Me?” She laughed. “How could that be?” The woman stepped closer and lay two fingers on Dany’s wrist. “You are the Mother of Dragons, are you not?” (Dany III, ACoK)

The birth of Dany’s dragons seems to have strengthened fire magic, tying her deeply to the very fabric of magic itself. The AGoT bookend suggests that the Others’ ice magic and the dragons’ fire magic may be connected, part of a larger magical ecosystem, or perhaps opposing forces that coexist on opposite ends of the spectrum. Ice and fire, death and life—both seem bound by the same mystical forces. Given Dany’s connection to magic and the fact that the reemergence of her dragons parallels the resurgence of the Others, she seems best suited to combat the magic that enables the Others to take form—serving as an inverse to her bringing dragons to life. And this underscores her dual role as both a destroyer and creator of life

The specifics on Dany’s confrontation with the Others and the magic that creates them remains unclear. She could venture to the heart of winter/the Lands of Always Winter and face the source of their power, creating narrative symmetry between the dragons of the Lands of the Long Summer and the creatures from the Lands of Always Winter. Alternatively, she might find herself in the Isle of Faces if her dream of fighting the Others at the Trident is fulfilled literally. The Isle, with its rich magical ecosystem, would be a fitting place for such a climax.

Bran, too, seems destined to go to the Isle of Faces (I’m a firm ‘Bran, King at the Gods Eye’ truther). This could be where their paths cross and their roles intersect. Bran, with his deep connection to nature and time, might provide Dany with guidance on how to engage with magic and influence its effects on the world. With Bran’s knowledge and Dany’s firepower, she could then deliver the final blow. While much of this remains speculative, what is clear is that their roles complement each other.

And that leaves Jon, the “light bringer”.

They said the words together, as the last light faded in the west and grey day became black night. “Hear my words, and bear witness to my vow,” they recited, their voices filling the twilit grove. “Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night’s Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.” (Jon VI, AGoT)

It’s important to see Jon’s primary function as an extension of his current role. He is a man who watches for the night—a sentinel standing against the encroaching darkness. This role is deeply embedded in his identity, and it’s fascinating to see how it manifests in his prophetic dreams.

It’s black inside, and I can see the steps spiraling down. Somehow I know I have to go down there, but I don't want to. I'm afraid of what might be waiting for me. The old Kings of Winter are down there, sitting on their thrones with stone wolves at their feet and iron swords across their laps, but it's not them I'm afraid of. I scream that I'm not a Stark, that this isn't my place, but it's no good, I have to go anyway, so I start down, feeling the walls as I descend, with no torch to light the way. It gets darker and darker, until I want to scream." He stopped, frowning, embarrassed. "That's when I always wake." (Jon IV,AGoT)

Last night he had dreamed the Winterfell dream again. He was wandering the empty castle, searching for his father, descending into the crypts. Only this time the dream had gone further than before. In the dark he'd heard the scrape of stone on stone. When he turned he saw that the vaults were opening, one after the other. As the dead kings came stumbling from their cold black graves, Jon had woken in pitch-dark, his heart hammering. (Jon VII, AGoT)

The Winterfell crypt dreams contain many intriguing elements, but I’ll focus primarily on two key motifs: death and darkness.

Jon is the most natural fit for the middle head of the dragon because he exists at the intersection of extremes: light and darkness, destruction and renewal, death and life.

When the spirit stepped out of the open tomb, pale white and moaning for blood, Sansa ran shrieking for the stairs, and Bran wrapped himself around Robb’s leg, sobbing. Arya stood her ground and gave the spirit a punch. It was only Jon, covered with flour. “You stupid,” she told him, “you scared the baby,” but Jon and Robb just laughed and laughed, and pretty soon Bran and Arya were laughing too. (Arya IV, AGoT)

While Bran is connected to summer and warmth through his magical familiar, Jon possesses a unique sensitivity to death, embodied by his bond with Ghost.

He sniffed at the bark, smelled wolf and tree and boy, but behind that there were other scents, the rich brown smell of warm earth and the hard grey smell of stone and something else, something terrible. Death, he knew. He was smelling death. He cringed back, his hair bristling, and bared his fangs.  Don't be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this. And the tree reached down and touched him.  (Jon VII, ACoK)

Furthermore, Jon’s fate at the end of ADWD implies that through his death and eventual rebirth, he becomes a ghost in his own right—caught between life and death, existing yet not fully alive. This intertwines with his connection to darkness, as Jon straddles the boundary between light and darkness: a shadow.

All in black, he was a shadow among shadows, dark of hair, long of face, grey of eye. (Jon VII, ACoK)

“I can show you.” Melisandre draped one slender arm over Ghost, and the direwolf licked her face. “The Lord of Light in his wisdom made us male and female, two parts of a greater whole. In our joining there is power. Power to make life. Power to make light. Power to cast shadows.” “Shadows.” The world seemed darker when he said it. “Every man who walks the earth casts a shadow on the world. Some are thin and weak, others long and dark. You should look behind you, Lord Snow. The moon has kissed you and etched your shadow upon the ice twenty feet tall.” Jon glanced over his shoulder. The shadow was there, just as she had said, etched in moonlight against the Wall. (Jon VI, ADWD)

Shadows, like ghosts, are echoes of something once tangible. They arise from obstructed light, existing in a realm that is neither completely dark nor wholly bright, hovering between presence and absence. They highlight where light is absent. But shadows also exist only in the presence of light, revealing the delicate boundary between illumination and the lack thereof. 

So building on that idea, it’s significant that Jon’s frequent journeys into the Stark underworld, where death and darkness prevail, take a pivotal turn in ASoS when he becomes vividly aware of light fading in real time.

He dreamt he was back in Winterfell, limping past the stone kings on their thrones. Their grey granite eyes turned to follow him as he passed, and their grey granite fingers tightened on the hilts of the rusted swords upon their laps. You are no Stark, he could hear them mutter, in heavy granite voices. There is no place for you here. Go away. He walked deeper into the darkness. "Father?" he called. "Bran? Rickon?" No one answered. A chill wind was blowing on his neck. "Uncle?" he called. "Uncle Benjen? Father? Please, Father, help me." Up above he heard drums. They are feasting in the Great Hall, but I am not welcome there. I am no Stark, and this is not my place. His crutch slipped and he fell to his knees. The crypts were growing darker. A light has gone out somewhere. "Ygritte?" he whispered. "Forgive me. Please." But it was only a direwolf, grey and ghastly, spotted with blood, his golden eyes shining sadly through the dark…

This is particularly noteworthy because of a similar, parallel dreams:

That night he dreamed of the feast Ned Stark had thrown when King Robert came to Winterfell. The hall rang with music and laughter, though the cold winds were rising outside. At first it was all wine and roast meat, and Theon was making japes and eyeing the serving girls and having himself a fine time . . . until he noticed that the room was growing darker. The music did not seem so jolly then; he heard discords and strange silences, and notes that hung in the air bleeding. Suddenly the wine turned bitter in his mouth, and when he looked up from his cup he saw that he was dining with the dead. (Theon V, ACoK)

The fires that ran along the blade were guttering out, and Jaime remembered what Cersei had said. No. Terror closed a hand about his throat. Then his sword went dark, and only Brienne’s burned, as the ghosts came rushing in. (Jaime VI, ASoS)

The ASoS crypt dream runs parallel to Theon’s ACoK dream and Jaime’s ASoS dream, with a common element: the presence of death and growing darkness.

While the crypts are inherently dark, Jon perceives when other sources of light are extinguished—true to his role in the Night’s Watch, which is to keep vigil against encroaching darkness. This ability to sense the fading light underscores his ghostly nature, where he reflects light while simultaneously existing in a state of absence. It also highlights his role as a shadow, existing in the blending of light and darkness. As both a shadow and a ghost, he can navigate these dual states, acting within the world’s transitions between day and night.

Which brings us to what I consider a continuation of Jon VII; while that chapter is marked by a lack of light, this next chapter is characterized by an abundance of it:

Burning shafts hissed upward, trailing tongues of fire. Scarecrow brothers tumbled down, black cloaks ablaze. ‘Snow,’ an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist. As the dead men reached the top of the Wall, he sent them down to die again. He slew a greybeard, a beardless boy, a giant, a gaunt man with filed teeth, and a girl with thick red hair. Too late he recognized Ygritte. She was gone as quick as she’d appeared. The world dissolved into a red mist. (Jon XII, ADWD)

At some point between these two dreams, Jon found (or even created) light and he wields it as a weapon. And it’s clear that Jon’s sword in this dream is the actual manifestation Azor Ahai’s Lightbringer:

“In ancient books of Asshai it is written that there will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. In this dread hour, a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him.” (Davos I, ACoK)

Lightbringer has two major requirements: to give off heat and to illuminate. Jon’s sword does both!

We’ve seen a number Lightbringer-esque weapons (e.g., Beric’s and Thoros’), but Stannis Baratheon’s sword is the most intriguing proxy.

Davos knelt, and Stannis drew his longsword. Lightbringer, Melisandre had named it; the red sword of heroes, drawn from the fires where the seven gods were consumed. The room seemed to grow brighter as the blade slid from its scabbard. The steel had a glow to it; now orange, now yellow, now red. The air shimmered around it, and no jewel had ever sparkled so brilliantly. But when Stannis touched it to Davos’s shoulder, it felt no different than any other longsword. “Ser Davos of House Seaworth,” the king said, “are you my true and honest liege man, now and forever?” (Davos IV, ASoS)

While Stannis’ sword is visually dazzling, it is, in essence, a well-made fake. Its bright glow meets one of the two requirements for “light-bringer”, yet its impressive variety of hues with no actual heat serve as a clue that it is not the true sword of heroes. When the world cloaked in darkness, a weapon that shines as brightly as the sun is undoubtedly a powerful symbol. And Stannis’ sword is bright….

….but it’s almost too bright. His sword emits the wrong kind of light—one that is all glamor with little substance. This great conflict is referred to as the “war for the dawn”. So what humanity needs is a reminder of the dawn itself:

As a red dawn broke in the east, Grey Wind began to howl again. (Catelyn X, AGoT)

A swollen red sun hung low against the western hills when the gates of the castle opened. (Catelyn IX, AGoT)

Dawn and the sun are often associated with red hues in the text, a color heavily tied to fire (e.g., House Targaryen and R’hllor). Stannis’ sword gives off light, but it lacks the essence of true warmth. In contrast, Jon’s sword is the real Lightbringer: it is hot enough to burn against the cold and it radiates the actual red hues of dawn, thus illuminating the world around it.

Jon’s role as the archetypal fantasy protagonist necessitates a magic sword—Lightbringer will be his Excalibur; his Anduril. But more than just being a weapon, his Lightbringer symbolizes the transition from darkness to light. Dawn, a moment of transformation, begins with deep red hues that retain the shadows of night before blooming into the full brightness of the sun. Like the early dawn, Jon straddles the line between night and day, existing between life and death, darkness and light. As the middle dragon head, he embodies balance.

I’m not really sure how that plays out in the endgame; hell, I still can’t figure out how Jon will “forge” Lightbringer in the first place. But he has to end up somewhere for his arc to reach its magical climax. I’ve speculated that Bran and Dany might find themselves at the Isle of Faces or the heart of winter. The latter is a strong possibility for Jon, especially if he too recreates the last hero’s journey; not to mention his connections to snow and winter. But he could also return to the Wall, a mighty structure that symbolizes the boundary between life and death. The Wall is also imbued with ancient magic that radiates outward (e.g., strengthening Mel’s magic and prolonging Maester Aemon’s life). Therefore, it could serve as the ideal location for Jon to reignite and wield the light that has long been hidden.

Though Bran, Jon, and Dany each have distinct roles in restoring balance, their actions are deeply intertwined, with shared themes across their arcs. Jon and Bran connect through their existence in darkness, as seen in their ACoK dreams. All three share connections to death: Bran inhabits the realm of the dead (Mel I, ADWD; Jon’s ACoK wolfdream), Jon embodies a ghost-like nature that straddles life and death, and Dany is called the “bride of fire, daughter of death”. Additionally, Jon and Bran are linked to winter, and both Jon and Dany share the legacy of Azor Ahai and Lightbringer, with dragon breath also echoing the red hues of dawn. Together, they are not just separate forces but three heads of the same dragon, working in concert to ensure that the Long Night ends and the cycle of life and death continues.

TL;DR:

The dragon has three heads, each with a unique role in maintaining the cycle of balance, despite their overlaps in common themes. Bran, the Prince of Winterfell, embodies summer and inherits the legacy of the kings of winter, making him the most suited to confront the Long Night’s origin: winter itself. The Long Night cannot end without Bran’s triumph, as winter represents death while summer signifies new life. Dany, linked to the ebb and flow of magic and the direct antithesis of the Others, is best positioned to engage them in battle and counteract the ice magic that enables their existence. As the perfect manifestation of fire magic, she serves as a powerful weapon, embodying the theme of destruction by being “breaker of chains”. Meanwhile, Jon straddles the boundaries of light and dark, life and death, destruction and creation. His unique position allows him to navigate these extremes, bringing forth the lost light while holding back the consuming darkness. As the embodiment of balance—dead yet alive, icy yet fiery—he ensures the proper equilibrium between these forces.

Dragons, symbols of life, fire, and summer, starkly contrast with the cold death represented by winter and its children. Daenerys, as the Mother of Dragons, embodies the nurturing aspect of life, actively bringing forth new existence by counteracting suspended states of life (e.g., awakening dragon eggs and freeing slaves). Bran, representing youthful vitality, symbolizes young life that is both born and maturing. Jon occupies a unique position in the middle; he is like spring, a new life emerging from darkness, akin to an awakened dragon—life once petrified but now revitalized. Together, these three form a multifaceted dragon that embodies various dimensions of life, each contributing uniquely to the fight against the Long Night.

[collapsedglasshouses]

hello! 💕 i love your writing so much! i usually don’t make requests but i was wondering if you could do like a cute cozy night in with noah??? maybe wine drunk, handsy, cuddles, and some smut if you are comfy doing that? :) i can see him getting a lil handsy and affectionate but also saying sweet things. i just love the idea. thank you :)

Lips Like Wine [Noah Sebastian x Reader]

A/N: Such a cute request and exactly what I need right now. Thank you for requesting! ♡

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: When Noah surprises Y/N with her favourite snacks and wine, she didn’t expect the night to evolve like it did.

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption, NSFW, oral sex (female receiving), swearing, ...

TAGLIST: @measuredingold (if you wanna become part of my taglist in general, pls let me know and i love @measuredingold , did I already say ily , @measuredingold ?)

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The ring of your bell woke you up at around 11 PM. 

To your surprise, you found yourself on your couch with your favorite blanket wrapped around you. You must have slept in after dinner because your favorite show was still quietly playing on your TV. 

You mumbled tiredly while getting up and making your way to the door. After a quick look through your door viewer, a little smile grew on your face, and you opened the door excitedly. 

"What are you doing here, sir?" You asked your friend, who had a shy smile on his face, before revealing your favorite snacks and a bottle of wine he held behind your back. 

"Did I wake you?" He wanted to know and gave you an apologetic look when you nodded slightly. 

"Don't be sorry, work was catastrophic today." You let him in before he laid down his goodies and quickly wrapped his arms around you. You let out a satisfied hum while rubbing his back. "I missed you, Noah." - "Believe me, I missed you more." 

You first met Noah last summer while they toured with A Day To Remember. You had been hired as the tour co-manager, meaning you knew about everything and everyone. Likewise, you somehow ended up keeping a tradition after the show where you would meet after the official celebrations and eat a couple of snacks together while getting wine drunk. 

Something, however, had changed over the last few months. You and your ex-boyfriend, whom you had been dating for over four years, broke up right after said tour, causing you and Noah to become even closer. You weren't mad about it, the fact of the breakup was that you two had definitely fallen out of love. You noticed when you stopped seeking closeness with your ex-boyfriend. 

What worried you, though, was how easily you started to crave those touches from Noah. Every time you were together, you felt like you needed to be closer to him. Your favorite thing to do at the moment was watch silly little movies with him when you had rough days. Keeping this in mind, you were more than happy to see him standing there, surprising you with what you needed the most. 

"Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be on the other side of the country?" You asked him after getting two wine glasses and sitting down on your couch. Noah scratched his back lightly before he started to smile. 

"We had a couple of days off, and I was in desperate need of one of our wine nights." He confessed, making you blush a little. 

They were on tour at the moment, so you didn't expect to see him again until mid-October. There were a couple of moments of silence before you raised your voice again. "Do you wanna watch a Ghibli Studio Film?" - "I thought you'd never ask!" 

It took you less than ten minutes before the two of you laid under your blanket, sipping on your wine glasses while eating sour gummy worms and watching Howl's Moving Castle. 

In all honesty, the movie was entirely irrelevant to you. Your eyes were glued to Noah's lips while he told you about the concerts that had already happened. 

"How have your days been?" He then asked you while putting your glasses back on the table. "Actually, pretty boring. Except today, I couldn't finish anything at work." - "If you wanna sleep, I can go. It's really no prob-… " - "I'II drag your ass back to my couch if you try to leave." You interrupt your friend and grab his thigh over the blanket, causing him to look down at it for a moment. 

You immediately noticed it and tried to put your hand away, but he quickly held it in place. The temperature in the room instantly rose, and you felt this pleasant tingle in your stomach. 

You tried to defuse the rising tension by taking his hand in yours and looking at the tattoos on his hand, as if you hadn't done that hundreds of times before. Noah chuckled when he noticed you beginning to analyze the drawings on his hands again. 

Swiftly, he started drawing small circles on your hand. "Do you see something new?" His tone was teasing. He knew exactly what was going on, and it bugged you how he could handle everything so well, while you almost literally melted at everything he did. 

Honestly, you had already given up on Noah feeling anything at all for you beyond friendship. You just accepted your little get-togethers and enjoyed his company, even if it cost you your sanity. 

That's why it shocked you when Noah's hand gently brushed up your arm, giving you goosebumps. Your thoughts began to race as you froze. You were sure it was the wine speaking out of Noah's mouth when his hand landed under your chin. You felt yourself shiver slightly under his touch, and you started to crave it even more. 

Without even noticing, you slightly leaned into his touch. Your thoughts were having a race. You knew you needed to pull away, but this single touch made you feel like pudding next to him. 

You let him turn your head to face him. You looked him in the face. He had cut his hair shorter than usual. At first, you were a bit skeptical about it, but the longer you looked at him, the more you liked it. You wanted nothing more than to run your hands through it. 

Then your eyes wandered. His eyes looked sleepy, while the dark brown of his irises nearly looked black. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and his lips were slightly parted, while his gaze was fixated on your lips. 

You thought you were dreaming when his thumbs lightly brushed over your lips. 

"You think I didn't notice, am I right?" Noah almost whispered while his gaze was still fixated on your lips. You didn't know what to say. Even if you knew, you were sure your body would betray you. 

You needed all your strength not to crumble into pieces right in front of him. 

You knew you felt this weird attraction to him for way longer than you wanted to admit, but you didn't know how down bad you were for him. "This all has changed, am I right?" Noah then asked, and you swallowed hard while he stroked your cheek. You resisted the need to lean into his touch again. You couldn't let him win this easily. 

"Please tell me to stop, Y/N." He then almost cried out while leaning closer to you. Your heart started to race even faster. You knew you should have pulled away, but everything in you needed him closer. 

"Kiss me." You breathed out when your noses were almost touching. "You know I won't be able to stop." - "Than don't." 

With that, it was over for the both of you. 

His lips crashed into yours. You could taste the wine in his mouth while your hands landed on his chest and slowly made their way up to his neck. With a swift motion, he lifted you onto his lap. His hands instantly found their way under your shirt, while yours ran through his dark hair. Shortly after, your shirt found its way to your living room floor, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. 

His hands roamed your body while he started kissing your neck. You felt like you were burning. 

"We shouldn't do this." You almost moaned when his kisses reached your collarbone. He looked up at you through his eyelashes, almost making you crumble into small pieces. "Then tell me to stop." 

Your eyes locked while he placed small, soft kisses on your chest. "Tell me, Y/N, tell me to stop." Noah whispered and leaned closer to your face again. His hands found your hips and grabbed them harshly. You breathed out a small breath while he slowly started to move your hips. You felt how hard he was and couldn't believe it. It felt like the perfect fever dream. 

"Go on, tell me how you don't want me to fuck you." Noah almost groaned. "Tell me how you haven't thought about it every fucking time we met up in the last months." You swallowed hard. 

You were an open book to him. It felt like he read every single page of yours. You couldn't be silent any longer. "Fuck, you know I can't. You moaned out when his hand found your waistband, and before you knew it, he flipped the both of you over. 

With that, he kissed his way down your body and stopped at your waistband. "Let's get these off, love." He spoke in a low tone that made you shiver while his fingers tangled in the lace of your panties. You lifted your hips, and he quickly pulled them off, throwing them over the backrest of your couch. In a swift motion, he grabbed your hips again, pulling you closer to him and immediately connecting his mouth with your pussy. 

You whimpered as his tongue licked up your slit, swirling around your clit. It doesn't take him long to introduce his fingers, plunging two inside of you and moving them at a pace that made you squirm. 

"Look at you." Noah spoke against you, causing you to buck up your hips. "Fuck, I can't get enough of you." He almost moaned and let out a small laugh. 

You looked down at him between your legs, and your eyes met. His pupils were blown wide and sparkling in amusement. You didn't respond to him; you just watched him as his mouth worked against you and his fingers massaged your sweet spot inside, drawing all sorts of whimpers and moans from your lungs. 

The pleasure kept building and building, the tension becoming a hot blur inside of you, until Noah's mouth suddenly stopped completely. 

A frustrated cry escaped your mouth while you looked at him. You were this close to complaining to him when he suddenly stood up and reached to bring you to your feet. 

"This is only the beginning, Y/N" 

And with that, you found your way to your bedroom...

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