vixxpirational

[vixxpirational]

Stranger Danger (AU) | Part 2 of ?

Inspiration: The need to write and my lack of ability to actually do it in a timely manner Group: Taehyung/BTS (and some other lovely lady but you don’t know who she is yet. Imagine all the sexy noonas). Warning: Blood lust Words: 3637

Taehyung wakes up but things have drastically changed

Taehyung woke without his shirt and curled on the cold pavement. He was sweating, his body on fire; everything seemed to radiate from his chest. He rolled onto his back with a low moan, his body sore and screaming for him to be still. Even his eyelids felt stiff as he blinked them open slowly.

The full moon was high in the black canvas of night and, for some reason, that registered in Taehyung’s mind that it must be a little after three in the morning. The last he remembered, it was about ten o’clock when he had settled down in the graveyard to work.

The graveyard.

He sat up, too quickly, his head spinning, his stomach lurching. He looked around. His canvas was still blank and intact, his pencil had rolled in the dewey grass. His toolbox of brushes, paints, charcoal, his life was untouched. His shirt was folded neatly beside him, a small note pinned to it. The writing was neat, cute, feminine.

Thanks for a good time. See you soon, handsome.

“What the fuck is this?” he mumbled as he stared at the pretty lettering. Whoever it was would need to learn the that even the smallest prick into his expensive clothing was unacceptable. He carefully removed the safety pin and note, setting it on the canvas so that he could shrug his shirt back on. He didn’t remember taking it off in the first place.

He didn’t notice the marks on his chest.

He reached for his phone next, swiping through the notifications. He stopped at the fourteen missed calls from his roommate and frantic texts of “where are you” and “are you okay” and “if you’re dead, i’ll bring you back to life so i can kill you again.”

A cold wind swirled the fallen leaves around the trimmed lawn and headstones. It was a wind that should have sent a nauseating chill to Taehyung’s bones, but it felt more like a gentle, warm beach breeze. The thought was pushed from his mind as he remembered the woman, her plump breasts and flawless legs, her tempting eyes and sexy smell. His crotch immediately began to swell and he groaned. His chest still hurt.

His phone buzzed with another text. “if you don’t answer in the next five minutes i will call the cops.”

He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but smile. Jimin had a knack for being dramatic, but he meant well. Taehyung went into Jimin’s contact, saved as Chimichanga, and pressed his phone to his ear. For sitting in the cold for so long, it should not have felt warm against his skin.

“You’re alive?”

“I’m calling from beyond the grave—” Taehyung started.

“Fuck you, Taehyung.”

“—to let you know you cannot have my Gucci collection.”

“Prick.” The relief in Jimin’s voice eased the pain radiating from Taehyung’s chest.

“Why are you worrying so much? You know how I get when I work.”

“How often do you paint in a graveyard?”

Taehyung laughed. “Good point. I may have dozed off a bit. I’m packing up now.”

“Can I still call the cops? You’re technically trespassing.”

“Sure.” Taehyung reached for his pencil and tucked it over his other ear. “I’ll make sure that I use your car as collateral on my bail money.”

“Prick.” Jimin’s soft giggle was soothing even after he cut the call off.

Taehyung gathered his things, and stood up. He had mastered the delicate balance of carrying too many art supplies in his arms, making it look easier than it actually was. Everything didn’t feel quite as heavy as normal. His chest still ached, but he ignored it as he loaded his truck and drove back to his dorm.

Jimin was hunched over his desk, anatomy book propped open to the a diagram of the cardiovascular system. Lines of red and blue curved and twisted inside of a grey silhouette of the human body. Taehyung’s mouth began to water as his tired eyes followed the arteries in the thighs, arms, neck. Sinking his teeth in would give the most blood, the loudest screams of pain.

“You okay?” Jimin’s voice pulled Taehyung back. He nodded and set his stuff on his bed. “You look like shit. You’re pale and clammy. Are you getting sick?”

“Don’t ‘doctor’ me, Chim,” Taehyung snapped. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so irritable. Maybe he was hungry? His stomach felt empty and his chest was still hurting.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m not feeling myself, I guess.”

“What’s wrong?” Jimin made his way over. He felt Taehyung’s forehead and frowned. He massaged Taehyung’s neck and something set his lips deeper. He pressed two fingers to the vein in Taehyung’s wrist, his eyes darting to his watch, and counted before stepping back.

“What? What is it?”

“You’re dead cold to the touch and your heart rate is dangerously low. How did you drive here? How are you even standing?”

“Dangerously low?” Taehyung rolled his eyes and pulled his shirt off and tossed it to his hamper. Jimin gasped.

“What is that?”

“What is what?” He looked down. His chest had been on fire since the moment he opened his eyes in the graveyard, but now he understood why. There were marks in an oval pattern on his chest that looked like the imprint of human teeth. Where the canines should have been were two wounds deep enough that even Taehyung knew there should have been a pool of blood around him when he had woken up. There was a deep red lipstick kiss in the middle.

“You’re going to the hospital.”

“No. I'm going to is my bed.”

“You could have died with where that’s located. How deep is th—”

“Jimin, I’m alive. Can I just sleep?”

“What happened?”

“Paint brush accident?”

“Very funny. If I let you sleep now, even against my better judgement, will you go to the hospital in the morning?”

“I’ll consider it.” Taehyung’s face twisted in exaggerated irritation as he stripped out of his jeans and into basketball shorts. He cleared off his bed, setting his supplies on his desk and situated his canvas on the easel. He climbed up onto his bunked bed, settling down for a hard, restless sleep.

He slept through his first alarm to shower. His second alarm woke him but only enough to remind him he had class in forty-five minutes. He turned it off, the effort to reach for his phone making him moan. He felt like his arms were ten times heavier than normal. His mind was hazy. His stomach rumbled in hunger. His chest wasn’t hurting anymore.

He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. It was too warm in his room. He scratched the back of his head and yawned, forcing his legs over the edge of his bed. He slide down his lofted bed and fumbled to reach for his lamp. His hand caught the line of sun peeking through the curtains as he did and it burned as if someone were holding a lighter against his skin. He jumped back and cursed, hand yanking on the cord of the lamp and pulling off his desk. It felt to the floor, the light bulb shattering.

He didn’t care about the racket as he stared at the burn on his hand. He watched the skin knit together and heal at an ungodly, scarless speed.  

“You can’t do anything gracefully, can you?” Jimin whined from his pile of blankets. Taehyung looked up and smiled.

“Just burned myself. Sorry. Go back to sleep.” His roommate sat up slowly, strong arms stretching above his head.

“How’d you burn yourself?” he asked, voice strained in a yawn. “You literally just woke up.”

“The sun.”

Jimin tilted his head, tired eyes narrowed in a threat Taehyung was all too familiar with. He had learned to hold the sarcasm until after breakfast because of that look.

“I’m not kidding, Jimin. I watched it on my hand disappear too.”

“You’ve sniffed too much paint.” Jimin hopped down from his bed, landing with athletic precision that Taehyung had always been envious of. He held out his hand, fingers wiggling, the all-too-familiar gesture of give me your hand and shut the fuck up because I know more than you.

“Your fingers are really cold. You still look pale.” Jimin moved his hands to Taehyung’s neck, fingers pressed to his jugular. “Your heartbeat is really slow still. How you’re functioning is a miracle.” His eyes darted down. “That’s already healed. It’s just a scar. Were you bitten by a radioactive spider?”

“I’m going to class.”

“No, you’re going to the hospital, remember?”

“Jimin, I’m swear I’m fine. And Peter Parker still went to class after he was bitten by a spider. Why can’t I?” Taehyung brushed passed his roommate to go to his wardrobe. His left foot stepped into the line of sunlight on the floor and he howled, falling back into the shadows. He watched his skin sizzle for a moment before going back to normal.

“What the fuck—”

“Can you develop a severe allergy to the sun overnight?” Taehyung asked, looking up at Jimin and unable to hide the fear this time.

Jimin stared at his roommate for a moment and shook his head before walking out of the dorm, leaving Taehyung confused and cowering under his desk.

Taehyung watched as the lines of sunlight moved across the floor of his dorm room. His stomach rumbled with hunger and he felt light-headed, irritable, scared. His throat was dry and scratchy; he had never felt so thirsty. He didn’t know what was happening to him or why Jimin just left him, but he was too afraid to know why at this point. It wasn’t until the two-in-the-afternoon sun finally left his room in completely in shadows that he finally climbed out, stretching his stiff limbs. He reached for his phone and climbed back onto his bed, reading through his messages.

NamJOON of Doom

you weren’t in class today? it was nice not having you answer all the questions. got to prove i’m actually the smart one. :P jimin said you weren’t feeling well, though. hope you get better soon, man. :( if you need anything, let me know. <3

JungSoup

did u finish the fear painting assignment thing for tommorrow? mine is shit so im gunna reserve a studio for tonite if u wanna join me. u know how creepy they are at night. nvm jimin hyung told me ur sick pls dont come and make me sick ur prolly jus hungover arent u hyung pls come cuz i dont wanna be alone with the studio ghost

Moldy Suga

you missed class. don’t die pls

He could feel the weight of everything lifting just a bit as he filtered through his friends’ messages. Everything felt almost normal. Even with Jimin’s reminder that something didn’t make sense, he found a way to find relief.

Chimichanga

sorry to bolt like i did. i’m going to help you figure this out. i know how to help. sit tight and stay out of the sun. if you’re going to die it’s going to be on my operation table and it will look like an accident ;) no way the sun is going to get you first

Everything faded away when he got to the next text.

Unknown Number

Meet me in the graveyard tonight. Our spot. You know the one. 11 o’clock. I will explain everything to you, handsome.

The woman from the night before came to mind, her perfect, alluring body; her smokey feline eyes; her soft, sultry voice. His hand pressed against his chest, fingering over the two scars on his chest and the faded red kiss mark.

He knew she was the reason this was happening but he wanted her back, wanted to be around her, learn from her. He felt drawn to her, connected in unexplainable ways.

Taehyung jumped when he heard doorknob rattle, cowering under the blankets on his bed. He didn’t understand why he was so jumpy.

“Jimin?”

His roommate walked in followed by a small, mature looking woman with short, blonde hair.

“Taehyung, this is my cousin, Choa. This is my dumbass roommate that got himself bitten by a vampire.”

“Vampire?” Taehyung asked. The other two ignored him.

“I’ve heard a lot more about you than just that, I promise,” she said with a friendly smile. Her presence was far more nurturing than Taehyung expected. She bowed to him before she made her way over to his desk. She delicately moved his toolbox to the side, setting her purse down.

“Jimin, what’s going—”

“She’s going to help, Taehyung.”

“How?” he asked as he watched the woman pull the largest bottle of sunscreen he’d ever seen from her bag.

“Doctors run in the family, but I am the black sheep that has her master’s in paranormal studies. I know more about your physiology now than future-doctor-conformist over here.” She pulled at hat out with rounded bill out of her bag.

“When you’re old and having heart problems from sleeping in haunted buildings your entire life, who will you go to?”

“Don’t trust him,” Taehyung said with a grin, sliding off his bed and landing on his feet with grace he’s never had before. Something about her presence was making him feel relaxed. “He’s always telling me that he’s going to make my surgical death look like an accident.”

Jimin rolled his eyes as Choa snickered. “He’ll have a hard time of that now, won’t he,” she said, patting his shoulder. She was much smaller up close. Taehyung could hear her heart beating. She smelled metallic and warm, making his mouth water and his throat ache.

“What’s happening to his eyes?”

“He’s hungry, Jimin. Why do you think I asked you to steal blood from my dad’s clinic on the way back?”

“Oh, right. I left the cooler in the car. Please don’t eat my cousin while I’m gone, Taehyung.”

He blinked and turned to look at Jimin, his head spinning. He hadn’t heard anything his roommate had said.

“What’s happening to me?” Taehyung asked as he watched Jimin leave their room. Choa reached up to touch his cheek and he could feel the blood pulsing in her palm. His eyes rolled closed and he took a deep breath. She smelled so… delicious.

“You need to eat, sweetie. Jimin will be back with something that will help settle your stomach. That will help with your anxiety.”

Taehyung nodded and leaned against his desk. She smiled and reached for his hand. She felt for his pulse in his wrist before feeling again in flat of his elbow, then at his neck. The closer she came to him, the more he could hear the sound of heart beating. He knew it was hers. She smelled delicious.

The sound of Jimin barreling back into the dorm room pulled Taehyung back.

“Do you know who turned you, Taehyung?” Choa asked softly as Jimin set a cooler next to her. She opened it up and pulled a plastic bag out, red liquid sloshing in it. She handed it to Taehyung.

“I remember her, but I never met her until last night,” he said as he stared at the bag. There was a cap on it where the line, connected to a needle, had carried their blood in. The small twinge of guilt was a flicker on his conscious compared the rumble in Taehyung’s stomach. He opened the cap and brought it to his lips, squeezing gently as if he were drinking from a juice box.

Taehyung had never tasted anything more delicious in his life. It was cold, but it didn’t matter the temperature when he could himself going back to normal with every luxurious swallow.

“Conversions aren’t very common anymore, right, unless there is a direct threat to the current population,” Jimin said, looking at his cousin. “Is there anything that you’re aware of going on?”

Choa shrugged. “I heard something about animal attacks, but that was on the other side of the country. The images I saw definitely didn’t come from an animal, though. I do have a connection with the local coven but they haven’t mentioned anything to me.”

“What does that mean?” Taehyung asked.

“It could mean anything, kiddo. I’ll keep in touch with you and check up on you, answer any question you have as best as I can.” She touched Taehyung’s cheek again, in a motherly way, her eyes suddenly sad, as he continued to suck the bag dry. “But you’ve got a rough road ahead as you adjust, especially if you don’t know who turned you.”

Taehyung had to convince Jimin that he was perfectly fine going out on his own. The sun itself had completely set for the evening and he still needed to finish his assignment. He had the sunscreen and hat that Choa had brought packed in, just in case he wound up staying out all night, and her instructions to reapply as often as every 30 minutes, depending on the sun’s intensity and Taehyung’s comfort level. It would prevent his skin from burning visibly, but he’d still feel the sun more than ever before. It was all he could do until the semester ended and he could adjust his schedule.

He texted Jungguk back, letting him know that he would come to the studio with him. He packed his things, Jimin watching apprehensively.

“Text me if you need anything.”

“Jimin, I’ll be fine. I’m just paining.”

“Did you eat?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes and held up the insulated lunch box that he had kept stored under his desk. He never thought he’d actually use it.

“If you’re going to have to kill a human, though, Jungguk would be a good start. You’d be making the world a better place…” Jimin smirked and crossed his arms. He acted as if he hated Jungguk, but everyone knew that they were close.

Taehyung didn’t respond, though. The thought of having to feed on a human for survival wasn’t something he had really thought about. He didn’t want to; the stollen blood bags were bad enough.

“Be careful, okay.”

“Promise,” Taehyung said as he walked out of their room. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should go. But he hoisted his canvas bag up his shoulder and started down the hall. He had to keep some normalcy in his life.

He started at the moon as he made his way across campus. There were still tricklings of pink and orange on the horizon, but the sun was completely gone. The moon was too bright. He knew just from the location of it that it was just past 9:30. He only had about ten hours of freedom to exist before he was bound to the shadows. He didn’t know how he knew that.

The smell of the art studios was always a comfort for Taehyung. He felt his muscles relax and his mind clear of everything as he made his way inside and through the halls to the studio Jungguk booked. He was home in his art, knowing that nothing would strip away his joy of creating something from nothing but pigment and paper.

“Took you long enough,” Jungguk huffed as Taehyung slipped inside the small room. There was already an easel set up for him.

“Got held up with Jimin. Just a bit concerned with how I was this morning.”

“You’re okay, though? Not contagious?”

Taehyung laughed. “Only if I bite you.”

Jungguk rolled his eyes but didn’t respond. Taehyung watched him dip his brush into a deep red oil paint, making his mouth water. It looked like blood. He stepped forward, eyes not leaving the color, his nose picking up the smell of something metallic. He could hear a resting heartbeat, pumping delicious blood; Taehyung wanted to hear it; he want to feel blood trickle rhythmically into his mouth with his teeth clamp hard on Jungguk’s neck.

“You sure you’re okay, hyung?”

Taehyung blinked and stared at Jungguk for a moment. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, just a lot on my mind. Sorry.”

He pulled out his blank canvas. He stared at the few faint pencil lines of the gravestone he’d been staring at the night before, when his biggest fear was still death. Taehyung was pretty sure his biggest fear was his own reflection now, a creature he didn’t recognize anymore, a creature that wasn’t exactly alive.

He set it on the easel, taking in everything he remembered about the night before. He was so sure he’d finish, so inspired by the name and dates on the stone. Then she showed up. Taehyung touched his chest as she flooded his mind. She was so sexy, so easy to talk to, so easy to trust. She told him it was a big mistake to trust her, but he didn’t think so at the time.

The text message came back to mind. She had to have been the one to send it. He didn’t remember anyone else that night, not even a security guard. She had to be the one that turned him. And she wanted to meet him at eleven.

He pulled out his phone, looking at the time. 9:45. He could leave and come back. How long would Jungguk be there? Would he have time to finish his assignment if he left? Why should he even go. He didn’t need anything explained to him; he had Choa that did that. Right?

He glanced at the canvas again. Painting a headstone, painting death as his greatest fear, it seemed foolish now. He dipped into his toolbox, pulling out his eraser. He’d paint what he had become. He’d paint her.

[vixxpirational]

Seven years after, I see you again 😚

[vixxpirational]

Ridiculous (AU)

Group: VIXX/ N x Fem. Reader Genre: A smidge on angst, a lot of smut Summary: Hakyeon’s been busy with his business and you’re proud, but jealous he doesn’t seem to have time for you any more. Words: 2,780 Note: This is not gender neutral. I’m weak for sexy Hakyeon

You hated fighting with Hakyeon, but it happened. You hated fighting for attention from him, but you encouraged him to open the dance studio in the first place. You respected him for following his dream, using his passion to help kids without any other way to express themselves. He had been drowning with his job in the corporate world, and he was a much happier person dancing for a career, watching his students grow the way he had when he was their age.

You felt guilty for wanting a little more time. It had been far too long since you had a night out with him. He’d come home too exhaused to do anything except help set the table for dinner and rinse dishes. He would go to bed early for the next day, too tired for more than a few kisses goodnight.

“I still do my share of work around the house,” he huffed when you mentioned it to him after dinner. “I help with what I can.”

“I’m not talking about housework, Hakyeon. I’m talking about me.”

“What about you?” He didn’t look away from the television. You moved to stand in front of it, forcing him to frown up at you.

“When was the last time we touched?”

“What?” He scoffed and you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to your other foot. “You mean sex?”

“I mean anything. I just miss you. I miss us,” you said.

He shook his head and rubbed his tired eyes. “I’m here all the time. You can’t miss me when I’m here.”

“Really?” You rolled your eyes and went into the bedroom. You went to your side of the closet, pulling a small, pink piece of lingerie from the farthest hanger. You went back to the living room, throwing it at him. “I bought this for your birthday and you said you were too tired for surprises and went to bed.”

He looked at the flimsy fabric on his lap, then back at you. “If you’d been wearing this, I would have known what you meant.”

“That’s not the point, Hakyeon.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

His words left you turning on your heels and walking out the door. Had you known it was supposed to rain, you would have just locked yourself in the bedroom; instead, you just stormed from the apartment not caring that all you had on were shorts and a thin t-shirt. You knew that you were being ridiculous, but hearing it come from your boyfriend left you feeling invalidated and angry, and you needed to leave before you said anything you’d regret and couldn’t take back later.

It’s windy outside and the air smells of rain. You’re too hurt to pay attention, replaying Hakyeon’s exhausted voice in your mind. You can’t help how much your miss Hakyeon. You miss the way he would look at you; his eyes only seem to shine when he’s  talking about work and the kids he works with. You miss the way he would grab you and pull you close, not caring that your hands were soapying from the dishes, lift you on the counter and kiss  you until you both were breathless.

Relationships that grow comfortable can lose the spark and the constant need to be close, but you never thought your relationship with Hakyeon would come to this.

You feel a raindrop on your cheek and you look up. The streetlamps are the only things that illuminate the low, grey clouds. You don’t know how you wind up in the park two blocks from your apartment, but you are there and you aren’t going back home. Not yet.

You sit on the first bench you find, pulling your legs up to cross them under you. Your elbows rest on your knees, your face in your hands. Was it too much to ask of him, knowing how hard he’s working, for some of the close, intimate moments you used to have all the time? You still fall asleep in his arms. He still smiles that secret little smile that was just for you after he kisses you. He is still very much in love with you.

You couldn’t help the jealousy creeping into everything. Was it selfish? Was it ridiculous? Was it too much to ask?

The rain starts suddenly in hard sheets. You lift your face to the clouds, eyes falling closed, letting the fat droplets slide over your skin. They’re warm and heavy like the summer air. You can feel your emotions washing away with every raindrop bounding on your cheeks.

But then it stops. You can hear it but you can’t feel it. You open your eyes and see Hakyeon holding a small umbrella over you.

“Come back home so we can talk,” he says.

You childishly shake your head. You don’t know why, but you don’t want to talk. You aren’t done with the rain. He sighs and closes the umbrella, sitting next to you. Your eyes close again, the rain a steady comfort in clearing your mind.

You can feel him watching you. His hand on your thigh brings you head down and you look at him. He looks tired through his damp hair, but you can see he is still annoyed, still angry.

“I’m sorry—” you start but he shakes his head.

“You’re right. I’ve been distracted. I put my work before everything else and you’ve done nothing but support me.”

“I’m so proud of you, Hakyeon.” You turn to him more, a hand moving his hair from his eyes. “You’re doing so many good things, and you’re doing so well. I love what you’re doing for those kids.”

He grabs your hand and smiles. “I love it too. But I love you more. I should show the things I love the proper attention.”

He pulls you closer so that he can kiss you. It is a kiss that had been lost in the comfort of moving in, a kiss that burned like they did when you were still learning each other, a kiss that stole the breath from your body. You wind your arms around him, desperate for more.

“Don’t walk out like that on me again,” he says, his voice low and almost lost to the rain.

“Okay.”

“I mean it. Don’t do that to me again.”

He’s still angry and you can’t do anything else but nod. He stands, opening the umbrella again, and holds out his hand. You take it and stand, letting him guide you silently back home. You feel the slosh in your shoes, the wetness in your socks uncomfortable around your toes. He’s walking quickly and you’re almost jogging to keep up.

The inside of your apartment building is freezing. You’re dripping and almost slip as you follow Hakyeon up the stairs. He holds your wrist to keep you steady but doesn’t stop until he’s at the door to the apartment. He puts in the door code and holds it open for you to enter first.

You barely have your shoes off before you’re turned around and pressed against the wall. Hakyeon’s hands are peeling your shirt up, his fingers grazing over your damp skin. His eyes are dark and his hips are pressed against yours, failing to hide his intentions.

You push back against him so that you can get your t-shirt over your head. You slam him against the adjacent wall, one hand cupping his crotch and other on the back of his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. He turns the position so you’re against the wall again, pinned between his arms. His hips roll into your hand and you swallow his moan, squeezing his already-hard length.

He pulls back to remove his shirt, the sight of his damp, golden skin making you whimper. You press a gentle kiss to his sternum, hands centering on his chest. He tilts your chin up to look at him; he pauses, just staring at you, his eyes flicking from your lips to your nose to your eyes and back. You take the moment to push him back and slip away. You keep your eyes on him as you balance on one foot, pulling your damp sock off. He smirks and you can feel his eyes searing into you. You do the same with the other sock and straighten up again. You reach behind you and unhook your bra, letting it fall with a wet thunk to the floor.

Hakyeon licks his lips but doesn’t move. You’re shivering from the cool air on your slick skin, but you feel the heat radiating from his gaze and it’s all you need.

You push the rest of your clothing down your legs, kicking them aside. He stays where he is, eyes moving over you, his fingers twitching. You smirk and make your way to him again, hooking your hand in the front of his sweats. You pull on them as you walk backwards, eyes not leaving his, moving slowly to the bedroom. He steps slowly with you, hands swaying at his sides, letting you lead the way, giving you control.

For now.

You collapse onto the bed, the elastic of his sweats snapping against his stomach. You slide back slowly, resting on your elbows, and spreading your legs. He moans at the sight, licking his lips; he knows what you are requesting of him, and he knows that if he doesn’t settle his handsome face between your thighs, he’ll be left to take care of himself alone.

Dropping to the floor at the edge of the bed, he yanks your ankles and pulls you closer until your knees are hooked over his shoulder and you can feel his heavy breathing teasing over your wet core. Your hand filters into his hair, a gentle touch for a moment before gripping it hard. You moan and drop your head back, desperate for him to do something.

He licks over your slit, slow and deliberate. Your eyes roll back and you whine, hips jerking. He spreads you open with his thumbs so that he can press his tongue against your quivering entrance, sliding up to your clit. He flicks the sensitive bud, earning a frustrated whimper from you.

“D-Don’t tease…” you demand, the punch lost in your breathless voice.

You feel the vibration of his chuckle more than you can hear it, his lips sucking and pulling on your clit. Your toes curl, your legs stiffen and pull him closer, your fingers tugging at his hair. His arms wrap around your thighs and he holds himself against you, sucking and licking, slurping and moaning against you. He brings you to the edge in the way only he can, not daring to stop until you’re screaming out his name. He pulls back only when your body relaxes, glowing in a post-climax daze.

You feel your legs drop, his lips moving up your body, your muscles too heavy to even budge. Your eyes flutter up to him, a lazy smile spreading over your lips. Hakyeon kisses along your jaw and you hum in approval. He shifts you both until you’re on the bed properly, his weight pressing into you, and it’s perfect.

You feel his erection against your hip, hot and still covered. You slip a hand past the elastic of his damp sweats, a fingertip grazing over the leaking tip. He gasps, his head arching back and his hips bucking toward your touch.

“Want you…” he groans, his elbows supporting his body over you.

“Have me,” you respond, voice steady and eyes focused on his. He bites his lip and looks down at you for a moment. He scrambles up to strip his sweats off. He makes quick work of fumbling in the bedside drawer for a condom and rolling it on, crawling back to you before you could miss him too much. He spreads your legs so that he can position himself, one hand on his cock, the other pressing against your groin, thumb circling over your throbbing clit.

You moan as he enters you, your body used to the stretch but still needing to adjust to his presence. His hips sway when he’s inside you to the hilt, pushing every last molecule of oxygen from your lungs. Your back arches, your hands grip into the sheets, your throat rumbles with a desperate groan. You need more, you need to feel him, you need to feel him over and over.

Hakyeon seems to know what you’re thinking and draws his hips back, snapping them forward. You gasp out his name and he does it again, angled perfectly. He laces his fingers with yours, pinning your arms above your head. He rolls his body slowly, the friction between you all too sweet. He’s taking his time and you can’t find it in you to protest.

You missed the dark look in his eyes when he was inside you, connected to you so intimately. You missed how the world around you faded into nothing but him, your bodies moving together, building to a euphoria Hakyeon’s only ever been able to give you.

“So beautiful,” he whispers between his sharp breaths, his hips picking up more and more speed. Sweat slides down his face and drips to your neck, making your shiver.

He moves his hands down your arms, your breasts, your sides, straightening up to change his angle. He grips your hips hard enough to bruise, lifting you just enough to anchor himself and slam into you. You cry out at as the white hot pleasure floods your body. You hold onto the headboard as a mantra of curses and his name fall from your lips.

You’re not going to last. You can’t even find the words to warn him you’re close. Your voice cracks as your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of ecstasy radiating from your core.

“That’s my good girl,” he growls, his pace unrelenting. You barely have time to recover before his thumb is on your clit and you’re cumming again, body convulsing in the overwhelming pleasure.

“H-Hakyeon—” you choke, knuckles white from how hard you’re holding the wood above your head. “Y-Yes, baby. Don’t stop.”

He presses your knees down next to your shoulders, leaning in for a sloppy kiss. The new angle has you seeing stars. The sound of his skin slapping against yours and the creak of the bed under his movements echo in your mind. You bring your hands to his hair, knotting your fingers his locks like he’d disappear if you let him go. The way he’s panting, moaning, you know he’s close.

“C-Cum on me…” Your lewd request is almost lost in Hakyeon’s lips. You know he likes to mark you, release on you, see you covered in him and only him, and cleaning you up because no one else can. He pulls on your bottom lip with his teeth, his hips moving harder. He pulls out as his orgasm builds, ripping the condom from around him. It only takes a few strokes before sticky streams of semen spill over you, pooling in your navel and between your breasts. He grunts through his orgasm, head back, chest heaving.

When he collapses next to you, there is an unmistakable smile on his lips. He looks over at you after a moment. You reach over to move his sweaty fringe from his forehead.

“I love you,” he says, turning on his elbow to face you.

“I love you too,” you say.

“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you.” He kisses you before you can respond. “Let me get you cleaned up.” He climbs out of the bed and disappears into the bathroom, and you don’t pass up the chance to admire his perfectly toned body, his round little ass.

He comes back with a wet washcloth, cleaning your chest and stomach. He presses a little peck to each of your nipples, making you giggle. He takes the cloth back into the bathroom before he comes to join you in bed again. He pulls the covers up and pulls you close, lips against your forehead.

“I’ve missed you too,” he whispers. You look up and smile. “As much fun as the makeup sex is, I don’t want to miss you like this again. And I really don’t want you to tell me you miss me again.”

“Good,” you mumble, eyes falling closed, sleep starting to take over you. His fingers dance over your back, a rhythm set in his mind and soothing your already-aching muscles.

“But, if you want, we can continue making up tomorrow morning?” he asks.

You giggle and nod. “I’m holding you to it.”

[vixxpirational]

World of Worlds (drabble series) #2

Group: BTS/Kim Seokjin x Reader Genre: Fluff Summary: Jin’s mom makes the best food for Jin. You’re determined to be the second best. Words: 315 Note: Yes, my roommate has boiled noodles over. I have too. Everyone has. If you haven’t, you’re lying. She’s a great cook. She makes bomb quesadillas. Remember that I’m writing these for her, but the piece is gender neutral.

You’re determined to make the best damn meal on the planet for Seokjin. He is always so happy when he eats delicious food and, well, you want the second most delicious food he has to be from you (after his mom, of course).

You have the tablet propped up, a complicated recipe open. You’re making two different entries, one beef for him and the other chicken for yourself (though you know he’ll probably have a healthy helping of both). You’re moving slowly, making sure every cube of meat is perfect and every vegetable is the same size.

The second best meal will be the first best looking meal—you’re making sure of it.

Your focus on chopping distracted you from the pot of noodles boiling over. You’re blissfully unaware until you hear the click of the burner heat being turned off and a familiar chuckle.

“You’re making a mess, love.”

You look over to the foamy water sizzling and cooling on the stovetop. Your cheeks flush as you slowly look up at your master chef of a boyfriend.

“You’re here early,” you mumble, looking back down at your perfect culinary cuts.

“Good thing or I would have had to call the fire department.”

“It was just water!” You voice cracks defensively. Jin chuckles again and moves behind you. His arms snake around your middle, his plush lips on your shoulder. You lean your head against his, taking just a moment to savor the way it feels to be enveloped in his arms, firm against his sturdy, broad shoulders.

“How can I help, beautiful?”

You gesture to the exit of the kitchen. “Go watch TV or something. That’s how you can help.”

Seokjin nods and leaves on last kiss at your temple. “Yes, ma’am.” You smile proudly as he leaves. Perhaps it won’t be his actual second best meal, but he’s definitely the first best boyfriend.

[vixxpirational]

World of Worlds (drabble series)

Group: BTS/Min Yoongi x Reader Genre: Fluff  Summary: You wake up early. Yoongi is still asleep. You accidentally wake him up. Words: 448 Note: My roommate has been getting into BTS through fanfiction. Since I love her and want her to have nice smut-free BTS feels for her beautiful ace soul, I’m going to write this. She calls her BTS fantasies that “World of Worlds,” so this is for her. The personality of “you” will be centered around her but will remain gender neutral. 

You’re not sure what woke you up: the sound of the birds outside or the heat of the sun on your bare feet. Either way, the birds are too damn loud and it’s too damn early to be awake.

You slowly open your eyes to the sight of your boyfriend sleeping effortlessly. A small, sleepy smile traces along your lips. He’s handsome when he’s awake, working, existing; but like this—dark lashes fanned over his milky skin, lips parted as he breathes deep and even, his hair messy from sleep—he’s perfect.

You suddenly are happy to be awake, regardless of what woke you because this is what you have to see.

The urge to reach out and stroke Yoongi’s cheek is strong, but you know that it’ll wake him up, and waking him up is a dangerous game. He’s a complicated man to navigate, even if it’s part of the charm. You had to find ways to read his otherwise closed expressions, learn the many meanings to his few words, compromise so that everything would lead to this point.

Waking up next to him every morning and wondering just how lucky you were to have Min Yoongi love you.

Your eyes trace over the curve of his cupid’s bow, along his cheekbones, around into the soft mess of his hair falling over his forehead. Before you can stop yourself, you reach over to brush it back. You smile at the graze of your fingertips over his smooth, warm skin.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi’s deep, sleepy voice rumbles from his throat. You jump, hand pulling back.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Your cheeks flush with embarrassment; you know how light of a sleeper he is. “I’m sorry.”

He groans, his eyes never budging. You shy away from him a little, knowing he was grumpiest when he is woken up by anything, even his alarm. You turn to get out of the bed, wanting to let him get back to sleep without you disturbing him. Maybe you’ll make breakfast for him.

You’re about to sit up when you feel a strong arm pull you forward. He rolls onto his back you come against him, his hand rubbing lightly over your hair. Your ear is pressed against his chest and you can hear his heart beating, slow and steady and strong.

“You’re not going anywhere, babe,” he grumbles, eyes still closed. His other hand slides up from the blankets for yours, lacing your fingers with his, bringing them to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

You smile and settle closer, allowing yourself to fall back into the sleep the birds woke you from the first place—not that you’re complaining anymore.

[vixxpirational]

Stranger Danger (AU) | Part 1 of ?

Inspiration: The need to write and my lack of ability to actually do it in a timely manner Group: Taehyung/BTS (and some other lovely lady but you don’t know who she is yet. Imagine all the sexy noonas). Warning: Implied sexy things happened.  Words: 1172 Note: I’m being vague because I’m not about spoilers. Also, another one inspired by the wonderful Kate’s moodboards

Taehyung is an art student assigned to paint his biggest fear. He learns a lot more about that than his professor intended. 

Keep reading

[vixxpirational]

Stranger Danger (AU) | Part 1 of ?

Inspiration: The need to write and my lack of ability to actually do it in a timely manner Group: Taehyung/BTS (and some other lovely lady but you don’t know who she is yet. Imagine all the sexy noonas). Warning: Implied sexy things happened.  Words: 1172 Note: I’m being vague because I’m not about spoilers. Also, another one inspired by the wonderful Kate’s moodboards

Taehyung is an art student assigned to paint his biggest fear. He learns a lot more about that than his professor intended. 

The assignment for Art with Emotion class was simple enough. Taehyung had written the details in his planner with a smug grin, confident that he would have this one in the bag. Face a fear and paint what you feel. He would just go to the cafeteria and eat the pizza. He’d paint the pain of living in the bathroom for an evening.

“Taehyung, do you want to to be an artist or draw comics for a newspaper?” his professor asked when he turned in his sketch.

“Aren’t newspaper comic strips art as well?”

“Your assignment is successful, then.” His professor set the paper down, eyes failing to mask the disappointment he was hiding in the square of his shoulders. “Make sure to add more comedy to the piece, perhaps at the abdominal pain.”

Taehyung could feel the judgment seep into his skin and resonate in his bone. He wasn’t sure getting a passing mark was worth losing his professor’s respect. He knew what the words mean—he was studying art to be much more than the guy that sketched political cartoons and Sunday comics for the Daegu Shinmun.

In his dorm that night, his arms felt like lead as he started to work. His blank canvas was mocking him as he started to sketch his lines. He knew it wasn’t worth losing credibility in class for the easy A and the easy way out.

He signed and glanced at his watch. If he left now, he’d be able to sketch the graveyard before the sun set. He could take it to his professor the next day, hope for another chance of approval. It would only give him a day to finish his assignment, and there’s no way he’d get an extension at this point.

Packing his oil paints in a bag, brushes carefully rolled in his apron, tucked to the side, and a few bottles of water, he braced himself for spending far too long in a place that was the source of too many campus ghost stories. He wasn’t afraid of seeing something supernatural.

Face a fear and paint what you feel.

Taehyung would have to face the most common and debilitating human fear: death.

— — —

There were low lamps lining the walking paths in the graveyard. Standing an easel wasn’t an option if Taehyung wanted to see his canvas. The last of the sun was clinging to the black of night. His heart buzzed in his chest, the sound in his ears like a hummingbird. He needed the light and he needed this class to graduate.

His eyes flickered between the line of headstones and his canvas, sketching over the rough fabric where his paint would go, adding the eerie shadows that left his muscles tense. His back ached from hunching over, keeping close to the light, of focusing his attention to his work so that he could ignore the prickle of goosebumps all over his skin.

The wind blew but Taehyung ignored the chill dancing along his spine. An owl called into the night but Taehyung ignored just how it echoed. Twigs cracked and leaves crunched around him but Taehyung ignored how the sound grew closer and closer.

“Brave young man to come into the graveyard at night,” a soft voice whispered in his ear, their breath washing over him. He would have screamed but he knew he had nowhere to run. He looked straight ahead, trying to convince himself he was dreaming.

“What brings you here, handsome?” The voice was sultry, dripping with feminine seduction. He could feel a nail trailing between his shoulder blades. In any other location, in any other situation, he would have played along.

“A-Assignment.” How he spoke it all was a miracle.

“An art student, are you?” He felt a hand cupping his chin and pull his gaze around to face whoever was speaking to him. She had long, cascading auburn locks over her petite shoulders, the strands tucked behind her ears. She had sharp eyes, lined in black that made them appear more feline. She was crouched next to him, short dress showing her creamy thighs in the yellow light on the path. Her breasts were pushed up, a line of cleavage that would have left Taehyung panting.

“You have nothing to fear, handsome. I’m just enjoying the last of the warm days before autumn takes over.” She spoke with honey, smooth and thick, intoxicating. Her lips were close and Taehyung could feel himself melting into the woman. Her perfume was sweet with a tang of iron mingled in. Her eyes were like fire, burning holes into him.

“Why are you painting the graveyard, sweetheart? Don’t you know it’s dangerous here after dark?” Her lips pressed against his ear and everything in Taehyung moved south. He dropped his pencil, the wood clattering and rolling out of reach. She pressed a finger against the pulsing vein in his neck, her eyes closing as if the rapid wave of his blood pumping was a drug.

“A-Assignment…” he managed to answer, his gaze trained to her. Her lips curled into a wicked smile and he was captivated, even with every single nerve telling him to run. She had him hooked. She knew he was under her spell. Every blink of her dangerous eyes, every exhale from her perfect lips, every centimeter she closed between had his mind wanting more. “I’m supposed to paint what I fear.”

“And what is it that a handsome man like you fears? Darkness?” He looked up at her, eyes wide. “Death?”

He nodded and the sound that came from her should have scared him. “It’s too final,” he whispered.

“You shouldn’t fear death, baby. You should fear strangers.” She slid a finger across his bottom lip.

“You’re a stranger. Should I fear you?”

“Don’t you? Your heart is pounding, isn’t it. You’re not afraid?” He shook his head with too much enthusiasm, but that only seemed to encourage her more. “You’re attracted to me, then. Lucky me to have someone a cute as you thinking about doing horrible things to me.”

“Not–Not horrible. I’d b—” She pressed a finger to his lips to silence, her other hand gripping the inside of his thigh. He moaned and closed his eyes, electricity running in his body and zeroing in at his groin.

“Do you want this?” He nodded and her hand gripped him harder. “You’re not scared?” He shook his head and her hand pressed better his thighs. His eyes shot open to her. “Do you want me?”

“Y-Yes…” The finger on his lips dropped to slide under his shirt. She pushed it up, revealing his chest. She stared with hungry eyes. She leaned in, pressing a kiss just above his heart. Her tongue flicked his nipple playfully. “Yes,” he whispered again.

She chuckled and looked up at him. “Big mistake, handsome,” she murmured, her eyes going black and her sharp teeth gleaming in the low light. Taehyung was consumed with an unnatural, overwhelming pain before his mind went black.

[vixxpirational]

I have so many writing ideas but not ability to form words. 

I have four fleshed out in my head and like a 2 pages for them and nothing seems to come from there. 

And I actually have time to write and I just can’t. 

Remember the days I could pull something out of my ass and be happy with it? Where have those years gone?

[vixxpirational]

Hello your Secret Santa here. Just wanting to give you some holiday cheer!! 💕💕

WAHHHH Thank you Secret Santa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[vixxpirational]

Inspiration: Happy S.Coups Day.  Group: Seventeen | Seungcheol x Reader Warning: Suggestive Words: 637 Note: WOW THIS TOOK FOREVER. I’m sorry that I’ve been so out of it lately and can’t do anything with a deadline. I hope you enjoy. 

When there is silence between two people and it’s a comfortable silence, that is a sign that those two are meant to be in each others’ lives. When that silence becomes awkward, well… maybe they have grown to know each other a little too well.

“Was that—”

“That was Jihoon.”

“He’s in the other room.”

“It was Jihoon.”

“Okay…”

The silence between you and Seungcheol only deepened as you looked away to hide your still-reddening cheeks.

“It’s okay to admi—”

“It was Jihoon.”

“But everyone does it.”

“Yeah, and it was Jihoon.”

“What was Jihoon?” The smaller man walks into the living room from the kitchen, the smell of popcorn steaming from the bag.

“She farted and is blaming you.” Seungcheol points at you and chuckles.

“I did not fart.” You throw a couch pillow at him.

“So that’s why it’s so weird in here.” Jihoon shrugs and disappears to his room, too unamused to put off writing lyrics any longer for something as dumb as a fart.

“It’s natural for—”

“For Jihoon to fart, yes I know.”

“It smells.”

You glare at Seungcheol and stand up, walking off to disappear on his bed. You know it’s not the safest place to hide in the bed of the man teasing you, but you’re not about to snuggle up with anyone else, especially since dinner left you feeling… bloated.

---

After being alone under the covers, surrounded by the comforting smell of Seungcheol, you’re not sure why you were so upset. He’s right that it’s natural, and you can’t help it that sometimes you pass a little gas. But to be called out on… by your boyfriend… in front of others… it’s embarrassing.

“Baby…?” Seungcheol’s voice is soft but you don’t move. You don’t want him to see you were in the middle of thinking that he’s right when you were the one embarrassed.

“What…” you snap back instead.

“Can I come in?”

“Doesn’t it smell?”

Seungcheol sighs and you feel your heart clutch. You’re being ridiculous.

He makes his way to you and sits beside you. You can feel his knees against your back. He reaches over you and lays a bouquet of flowers in front of where he assumes (correctly) your head is.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you. When you live with twelve other guys, you are used to farts and smells and teasing everyone about it because we’re so close and comfortable. I should have thought about it because it’s different with us.” You sit up as speaks, keeping your back to him. You bring the flowers to your nose, taking in the soft floral scent with a smile. Choi Seuncheol is far too thoughtful than you deserve right now.

“I over reacted.”

His arms wrap around your middle and you giggle as he pulls you into his lap. His lips trail along your shoulder and neck. “You know I love you, farts and all.”

“You’re pushing your luck, kid.”

“I’m sorry.” His hands start to glide down your arms and he hums softly in your ear. "I just love everything that makes you... you. You make me a better man. I don't like upsetting you..."

"Seungcheol." You turn to look at him, a hand stroking his cheek. He lip twitches up at one side in a crooked smile, and your heart melts. He closes the distance between you in a gentle, tender kiss. You shift until you're facing him, not breaking your lips. He holds you close, keeping your in his lap as if you're the only thing anchoring him to earth. He lays you back on his starry blankets, his weight pressing against you, his hands roaming down your sides to your thighs. He wraps them around his waist and you can't seem to remember why you were upset in the first place.

[vixxpirational]

Bonds Stronger than Fate

Inspiration: @noona4bts sorry this took a little longer than it was supposed to.  Group: BTS | Yoongi x reader (featuring Hoseok) Warning: It’s more angsty than fluff, but it’s still fluffy Words: 1,429 Note: For the @kpoptrashnetwork secret santa exchange. I hope you enjoy, Shelli!!!!!!

Searching through the tangled mess of red string connecting the world together became burdensome. It wasn’t that you gave up looking—you just got tired of weaving through a mess for someone that fate has decided for you. What if you didn’t like him? What if he was an asshole? What if he didn’t come into your life until you were old, gray, well beyond the years where you can enjoy the kind of love fate has connected with these strings?

It was after college when you met Yoongi. He was in the cubicle next to you at work. He had seemed cold and distant at first, making the days quiet and focused on work. You excelled without the distraction, but it’s always lonely not having someone to talk to as you labor way over documents and letters and numbers. He was polite, nodding and smiling when you’d come in the morning. He didn’t ignore you; he just didn’t talk to you, or anyone for that matter.

Until one morning you were running late. Your dog was sick all night and you had to take him to the vet. You accidentally called Yoongi’s office number instead of your boss’ to let them know you’d be an hour late. You came in with a small box and a coffee steaming on your desk.

I hope your dog gets well soon. My dog, Holly, said she’d share her treats too. Fighting! ~~Yoongi

You smiled and pulled a post-it note from the stack, drew a dog with a speech bubble that said: Thank you Yoongi and Holly. I’ll share my treats soon. ~~Turnip. You reached over the edge of the cubicle and stuck it to his wall. You listened as he moved, as he chuckled, and he came around the wall to look at you.

“You really named your dog Turnip?”

You jumped and looked back at him.

“Yeah. He has a white belly and brown fur on top. When I got him as a puppy, he had this weird mop of hair on his head that looked like the top of a turnip.”

“I guess that’s cute.” He holds up his phone, showing you a picture of light brown, curly-haired dog. “This is Holly and she’s an angel.”

You reached for the framed picture of you and Turnip when you first got him, his hair ungroomed. “This was Turnip a year ago.”

Yoongi grins and nods. “He does look like a Turnip.” He went back to his desk and you couldn’t help but notice that he had the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen. You couldn’t help but notice that you suddenly had an office crush.

Your friendship with Yoongi blossomed from then. You brought treats for Holly a few days later. You asked Yoongi to join you for lunch in the break room. He said your kimchi looked better than his and pouted until you shared. He gave you some of his pickled radishes. You told him about college and he told you about his passion for music.

You didn’t notice the pull of the string until he left a cupcake on your desk one morning and a note that read: Instead of lunch today, how about a picnic date this weekend. Holly and Turnip can meet. You didn’t miss the word date. You ate the cupcake before giving him a post-it that simply read: I’d love that.

The string pulled on your pinky hard, the thread tight and taunt for the rest of the day, making even simple tasks far too difficult.

You didn’t care that the string didn’t connect you to Yoongi. He didn’t seem to care that his string didn’t connect to you. You fell in love. He looked cold and distant but he was warm and welcoming inside, hungry for love but never sure how to express it until he was comfortable. He was good to you. He made you feel safe. He made your heart race. He made you angry. He was complicated and set in his ways, but he loved you fiercely and he always made sure you knew it.

He wrote music for you. He kissed you like it could be his last. He made love better than anything you experienced. He was your soulmate in every way except the strings. It didn’t matter anymore if you ever met this person because you found what you wanted, what you needed with Min Yoongi.

Everything changed when Jung Hoseok started at the office four years after you. He was bubbly, cheery, smiled brighter than the sun. And your strings stopped pulling the moment you met. It dangled between your two pinkies. Yoongi’s face dropped in the corner of your eye. He’d never looked so defeated in the time that you knew him. But you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the person that fate had destined for you. He was handsome, so handsome.

But you were in love with Yoongi. You couldn’t imagine a life without him, even after he broke up with you.

“You don’t want this.”

“You found your match.”

“Yeah, I know. His name is Min Yoongi.”

“I’m not going to compete with the string.”

“You’d think I’d break up with you if it had been your string that started working?”

“My string broke when I was sixteen.”

You didn’t give up on Yoongi. Hoseok seemed to understand and didn’t try to pursue you. Love is stronger than destiny. That’s what you wanted to believe, what you needed to believe when it came the man you loved. The more you tried, the more he pushed you away.

It wasn’t that you gave up on Yoongi—you were just tired of your shattered heart crunching into smaller and smaller pieces until it was a fine dust. You kissed him goodbye. His lips tasted of salt and regret for letting you go.

Hoseok didn’t want to pounce or take advantage, but he was never the kind of person to leave a hurting person alone. He didn’t believe in the red string of fate as lovers as much as he knew that you’d be great friends at the very least. He would leave you notes with funny characters to make you smile, commenting on how it grew more and more every day. He bought Turnip a collar with a bell on it shaped like a Turnip.

Maybe he’s not a cat, but we know now he’s a turnip.

You rolled your eyes and enjoyed the little jingle every time your dog came running to you.

It was easy to love Hoseok. He knew what made you happy. He never fought with you except that Harry and Hermione should have wound up together while you insisted that Ron and Hermione were soulmates. They fought and got angry, they were different and complimented each other well—they may not have been the most compatible, but they were in love and that is stronger than any bond.

Except the bond of red strings, I guess, you always thought.

You tried dating Hoseok but it didn’t seem right. It wasn’t as passionate. It was too easy. He was your best friend soulmate, but not the one you spend your life in love with. You knew, you always knew, even from the last kiss, that it was Yoongi. It will always be Yoongi. Your string with Hoseok broke when you mutually agreed to end the relationship.

“Friends are pretty great. I’ll be here to make sure whoever that string connects to next is worthy of you,” he said as he held up the dangling end of his string.

“Same for you. Whoever you end up with will have a lot to get through before I allow them to steal your heart.” Your string was already stretching, finding the next end.

You hadn’t seen Yoongi in years since that last time. He transferred to a new city with a promotion. You didn’t know where. You just knew that if you found him, you’d never let him go this time.

You were walking to work one morning when a pair of small paws jumped up on your legs. You looked down to see the familiar brown curly hair mingled with gray.

“Holly?” You dip down to pick her up, smiling as she licks your face.

“Hey stranger.”

“Yoongi?” You turn to look at him, aged just enough to know there had been time between you. He was looking at your pinky. You followed his gaze. His string had reconnected to yours.

“Guess you were right.”

“What do you mean.”

“Love is stronger than fate.”

[vixxpirational]

Inspiration: HAPPY WONWOO DAY! Thank you @mans-ayyye for requesting. Group: Seventeen | Wonwoo (Garden Fairy) x Reader Warning: n/a Words: 557 Note: FLUFFIEST FLUFF I’VE EVER FLUFFED 

48. Galaxy

Moving the mountains near Wonwoo’s hometown was the best decision the two of you ever made. He’s still close enough to home to see his family and friends. You’re not too far away from the city to feel disconnected to the fast pace of normal life. There is quiet and peace on your small plot of land. There is plenty of space for Wonwoo to garden and plenty of space for you to watch him do his work.

It makes him happy to get his hands into the dirt and bring life out of it. It makes you happy to see him happy.

“It’s a new moon tonight. We should eat outside.” Wonwoo looks up from his phone while you continue to wash the zucchini he brought in yesterday.

“But... there are bugs... What if one gets in my food but it’s too dark to see and I eat it?”

“Then you’ll have extra protein?”

“Shut up, Wonwoo.” You laugh and push him with a wet hand. He grins and kisses down to kiss the top of your head.

“We’ll eat inside but I do want to go out into the garden later, lay out and look at the sky.”

“Garden Fairy.”

“I don’t appreciate that nickname sticking around.”

“Maybe if you didn’t garden and look beautiful doing it, Jihoon wouldn’t have called you that.”

“You think Jihoon, Lee Jihoon,  thinks I’m beautiful.”

“Oh, he talks about your beauty all the time.”

He points a zucchini at you. “You’re worse at lying than Mingyu.”

You giggle and set the last of the vegetables on the cutting board. “Slice those up and I’ll start on the rest of dinner, Garden Fairy.”

Moving to the mountains was the best decision the two of you ever made. On nights like tonight, fireflies flickering around his plants, the chirps of crickets, the crisp warmth of the August air and the expanse of the sky uninterrupted by city lights or the moon is what makes living here perfect.

Wonwoo had laid out blankets by the garden as you finished putting away the leftover food. He added extra comfort by bringing a couple of pillows out too. You settle down with him, curling against his chest as you both gaze up at the dark sky.

“What is that?” you ask, pointing to a bright strip of light across the sky. It’s faint but cloudy, speckled with stars.

“That’s the Milky Way, or a section of the galaxy at least. The dark line in the middle of it is called the Great Rift. It’s just dark dust that masks the star clusters and whatever else is behind it.” His fingers find your hand in the air and laces them together, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “It’s the second loveliest thing I’ve seen today.”

“You’re a cheese ball. A nerdy cheese ball.” You aren’t complaining; it’s just a fact. You glance at him and see he’s staring at you.

“The fireflies are the first loveliest thing I’ve seen today. Oh… did you think I meant you?” He chuckles and shifts so that he can press a quick, fleeting kiss to your nose.

“I thought you were talking about the zucchini we cooked earlier.”

“You’re right. Those were beautiful fruits of my labor.”

“Spoken like a true Garden Fairy.”

“I’m going to kill Lee Jihoon.”

[vixxpirational]

Inspiration: HAPPY WONWOO DAY! Thank you @squishywonu for requesting. Group: AU!Seventeen | Wonwoo (featuring Joshua and Woozi) Warning: Death Words: 787 Note: I’m so sorry this took so long. Once I got out of my head today, I couldn’t stop thinking and rewriting. A lot of these are inspiring me to write more. I think I might with this one too. Definitely will.  

4. Hold My Hand 5. Tongue-tied 41. Assassin

Clearance level: 10/10 Operation: Hold My Hand Assignment: Assassination Target: Jeon Wonwoo Reason: Novel Timeline: 1 week Attached: Coordinates, wire transfer, transportation arrangements, disguise receipts. Notes: Be discrete, be quick, be thorough, leave no witnesses, amnesty from all crimes committed for this assignment.

Releasing a new book is as exhausting as it is thrilling. The tour, the readings, the monotony balanced with the swell of pride from such an accomplishment and the adoring fans who appreciate his words as much as he does. But it is still tiring going to another cookie-cutter hotel room drained of any energy to see more of the city he’s in other than the local bookstores.

“...schedule for tomorrow... 9 am reading...both Diamond Life and Hold My Hand...” Wonwoo rubs his eyes as he half-listens to his agent drone on as they take a car back to the hotel. People always insist on hearing excerpts from his first novel so often that he practically has Hold My Hand memorized. It’s his worst published work to date, in his opinion at least, and yet it remains the most popular.

“... flight to Osaka departs at 11:25 pm… cut close… from the studio.” All Joshua can talk about is the damn schedule and planning the next book. It’s never about the event they just left or a bit of time off to rest before sitting behind a computer for hours with a pot of burnt coffee and protein bars.

“... lunch at the studio before the interview... Yoon Jeonghan will be talking about... representation in Diamond Life...”

“The politician?”

“Yes, him, he’ll be talking about how you--”

“I heard you. Are we at the hotel yet? I would like silence and some sleep,” Wonwoo snaps, his forehead pressed against the window, vision blurring at passing city.

“You need to go over your talking points for tomor--”

“Can it wait?”

“And when do you suppose we should talk about it?”

“Tomorrow?”

“When there is no time to prep—” The car stops but everyone else lurches forward. Wonwoo’s hands fly up to cover his face as he feels the scrape of glass across his cheek. His ears ring with the screech of tires and the smell of burnt rubber. The sickening crunch of bones breaking and Wonwoo looks over at Joshua before he passes out.

“Wonwoo-ssi. Jeon Wonwoo-ssi. His vitals are good. Brain scans positive with a concussion. Minor contusions.”

Wonwoo couldn’t move anything but his eyes. He blinks them open, blinded by lights and the sterile stench of a hospital. He grunts to gain the attention of the doctor at the foot of his bed.

“You’re awake. Call his nurse to run vitals.” The woman in the white coat pulls a flashlight from her pocket and shines it in Wonwoo’s eyes, moving quickly around him.

“What happened.”

“You were in an accident.” A nurse appears, short but fierce, like he wouldn’t take any attitude from a patient, a doctor, anyone. His blonde hair is far too perfect to be an ICU nurse.

But the words are all that matters.

“J-Joshua? Is he-- What happened? How-- he okay?”

“He’s stable. The driver is as well. There is no need to worry, Wonwoo-ssi.”

“What day is-- the book-- interview-- tour.”

“He’s disoriented, Jihoon. Let him bring himself here naturally. Remaining tongue-tied like this will continue elevate his heart rate and blood pressure. His brain is still healing from his concussion.” The nurse shoots a nasty look at the doctor but nods. He fastens a blood pressure cuff around Wonwoo’s arm.

“What is today, J-Jihoon-ssi?”

“It’s Sunday. You were out for two days.”

Two days. He missed the interview. He missed three readings. Did the press know? Is his career ruined because no one knows where he is, that he just appears to have bailed on his obligations?

“Don’t worry, Wonwoo-ssi. There has been coverage of the accident.”

The doctor leaves the room as Jihoon finishes taking Wonwoo’s blood pressure. “You’re a little high, 125 over 90. Probably because you’re in shock. I’ll come back in an hour after you’ve eaten and relaxed to check again.”

Wonwoo watches the small man, taking him in. He’s dressed in scrubs, neat and clean with a stethoscope around his neck. His shoes seem as if he came from a party. The nurse moves over to the monitor machines.

“Joshua?”

“He’s stable. He’ll be okay.”

“The driver?”

“The same, Wonwoo-ssi.”

“Will I be okay?”

Jihoon looks at him with a too-bright smile. “Of course.” He reaches up to turn the dial on the medicine drip up. He closes the curtains around the bed, ensuring more privacy. The nurse pulls a syringe from his scrubs pocket, needle covered, tube empty. The medicine takes quick effect and Wonwoo’s limbs fill with concrete.

“W-Whatare youdo ing?” he slurs as Jihoon opens the needle and fastens it to Wonwoo’s IV and pushes air into the injection point.

“With you alive, Hold My Hand is fiction. With you dead, it’s a conspiracy that might work.” Jihoon works quickly to put the syringe in the hazardous waste bin, hiding all evidence of what is about to happen.

“You can hide in your words but you cannot hide behind them anymore. Quick. Discrete. No witnesses. Sleep well, Wonwoo-ssi.”

[vixxpirational]

Inspiration: HAPPY WONWOO DAY! Thank you @svt-woo for requesting. Group: Seventeen | Jeon Wonwoo x (kind of) Kim Mingyu Warning: A touch of angst and not nearly enough fluff... I’m sorry Words: 740 words Note: I’m sorry this isn’t that great and that it took so long to respond! I hope you enjoy. The idea I had didn’t come to paper well, But i feel like this might become something more. Thank you @mans-ayyye for beta-ing cause my drafts are alwyas a hot mess

1. Chocolate 6. Can you hear me 40. Ghost

Wonwoo wakes up in a cold sweat and with a sinking feeling that he’s being watched. Nothing seems out of the ordinary in his studio apartment—everything is where he left it. The three locks on the door are intact, the kitchenette is spotless, the curtains are drawn. He just can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching him.

He sighs and slowly rises from bed. His paranoia would make it impossible for him to go back to sleep for the hour and a half before his alarm. He saunters to the bathroom, starting his morning routine early. He washes his face, brushes his teeth, ignores his hair. He doesn’t have plans to go anywhere. He had been fighting a cold for a few days, promising his boss to work remotely while he recovered. Seungcheol had always been understanding of these things so long as work got done.

Research can be done anywhere with internet connection, anyway.

Wonwoo sniffled as he opened the fridge, looking on the mostly empty shelves for something to eat. He had kimchi and broth from the ramyun the night before; everything else would require cooking. He closes the door and reaches for a banana. Breakfast of champions. He pads over to the small work area as he peels the banana. He looks around as he sits in the comfortable wheeled chair. He still feels like he’s being watched.

He shakes his head and opens his laptop, nibbling on his breakfast as the machine boots up. A blue screen flashes with black letters typing across. Wonwoo almost misses it with his yawn.

Can you hear me?

He frowns, confused. He brushes it off as the login screen comes on, thinking that his mind is still as sleepy as he feels. He had dreamed about a young guy asking him the same thing over and over. He was familiar, tall, tanned, unrealistically handsome, and smelled like a bakery. He said nothing to Wonwoo in his dream except to ask if Wonwoo could hear him. No amount of assuring him he could would satisfy this dream guy.

“Wonwoo-ssi, you’re on early.” Seungcheol’s voice is far too loud for this early in the morning. It tore Wonwoo from his thoughts, his day starting too abruptly for his taste.

“Yes, sir. I was having trouble sleeping.”

“Are you feeling any better, br--Wonwoo?” Soonyoung appeared on the screen, face broken into a too-bright smile.

“Soonyoung? Ask me when I’m awake. I’ll give a more reliable answer.”

“Fair enough,” Seungcheol said, nudging Soonyoung aside. “I emailed you today’s assignment a few minutes ago. I was just briefing this dweeb on his for the day.”

“Dweeb? I’m telling the boss!” Soonyoung’s voice was faint as if he were walking away.

“I will get started soon. Thank you.”

“You sure you’re alright, Wonwoo? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Still waking up, boss. Nothing to worry about.” Wonwoo rubbed his eye for good measure.

“Don’t overwork yourself. I needed you healthy next week. I’ll be online if you need anything.”

“Thank you, boss.” The video chat cut out and he leaned forward on his elbows, yawning.

Can you hear me?

The voice was in his ear, the same voice from his dream. Wonwoo jumped and looked around. He felt a cold chill run creep along his arms like someone with cold fingers were touching him. He whips around in his chair, feet slamming down to keep him from spinning in a circle. “Who’s there?”

Silence.

“Get it together, Jeon Wonwoo...” he mumbles to himself, turning back to the screen. A soft cluck echoes from the kitchenette. He stands and makes his way over.

Can you hear me?

He almost steps on it before he sees it—a bar of chocolate, a foreign brand, adorned with a ribbon and a folded note. He frowns as he tips down to pick it up. He hears the voice again but ignores it, too entranced the shining foil and note.

There are things we cannot control in life. They happen and we must deal with it and move on. Death, birth, ending, goodbyes are all there. But I didn’t have control over how important you became in my life. If I did, I think I would have died alone. I will never leave you so you don’t either when your rich, full life comes to an end. Can you hear me now when I say I love you? —Mingyu

[vixxpirational]

Inspiration: HAPPY WONWOO DAY! Thank you anon (whoever you are, wink wink) for such a fun request. I hope you enjoy. Group: Seventeen | Wonwoo x Shrimp Warning: N/A Words: 984 Note: Crack. Fluff. A smidge of angst

43. Shrimp

It is a well-known fact that Wonwoo doesn’t like seafood. He has said over and over how the smell makes it impossible for him to eat food from the sea. His members are understanding and work hard to always include food that he can enjoy. It's really very sweet how much of a family the boys are and how they go the extra mile just so that the whole group can enjoy every aspect of life together. Carats also keep in mind Wonwoo's limitations to seafood with fan projects that include buying food for the boys.

But the Carats of the sea have a bone to pick with Wonwoo. He's handsome and has a wonderful voice that carries well in the high pressures of deep water. He has a smile the is as bright as the fluorescent jellyfish, he is as majestic as the whales, and as mysterious as the sharks. But he doesn't like sea Carats. He doesn't like the way they smell. He can't be around them. They were offended.

The shrimp populations were most upset. They lived their lives as small creatures, used to being the butts of jokes about small arms and compared to krill (you can old handle being called "whale bait" so many times before it gets annoying). They wanted to have the approval of Jeon Wonwoo so that, finally, the sea would respect the shrimp populations as the one and only sea creatures that Wonwoo liked.

Thier gathering turned from gaining Wonwoo's love to find ways to replace Wonwoo with a look-alike that liked seafood. There was one shrimp at the meeting named Rick, hidden in the back, small in stature but big in heart. He didn’t like the way the discussion was going. He was still fond of Wonwoo despite his aversion to sea creatures. Rick knew that not everyone liked the sea or those souls that lived under the waves, and accepted that fact.

Rick definitely didn't like the idea of making someone so special to the sea life disappear to be replaced by one who does. It wouldn't be the same. After all, what would it do to Seventeen? Wouldn't they notice this new "Wonwoo" wasn't the same?

The meeting ended with a large prawl (prawn brawl, it was a terrible pun that the Great Whites came up with that, unfortunately, stuck). Rick left as soon as things were heated, satisfied that nothing came from this meeting because everyone was too stupid to actually plan out their horrific plans. But this little shrimp had his own plotted out and ready to go. He packed his things, kissed his family goodbye, and headed out the Yellow Sea as fast as he could. He would find a way to warn Wonwoo and ensure his bias' safety.

"Do you smell seafood?"

"No, everyone promised not to get anything today."

"Hyung, I smell something."

"Maybe it'll pass when you start eating your steak."

Wonwoo sighs but doesn't press the subject more. Seungcheol is usually right about these things. He didn't want to make a fuss today when they were all tired from concert preparations and the first shows. And it's his birthday; why fuss on your day of birth when you came out screaming on your actual birth.

Even as he ate, the smell was there. It was faint but still strong, like a fish who traveled a great distance and had been out of water for just a little too long. It didn't tarnish his meal too much, but it made him a little uncomfortable.

That's when he heard it—a soft cry of his name, breathless. Wonwoo looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. Soonyoung looked at him funny, asked if he was okay. Wonwoo thought it was just a firing of a neuron thinking of his family on his birthday.

He heard it again. He looked up, dropping his knife as he did.

"Are you sure you're okay, hyung?" Mingyu's brows knitted together in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Wonwoo mumbles in return as he pushes his chair back to dip under the table.

"Thank god you found me," Rick said. Wonwoo jumped, hitting his head on the table.

"You okay?"

"Yeah!" He reaches for his knife and blinks, but the shrimp is still there. "What the heck is this?"

"I'm sorry I didn't clean myself well before I came to you, Wonwoo-ssi. It's urgent."

"You're the smell that's been bothering me. Wait, why am I talking to a prawn?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you. Please give me a glass of water, extra salt please, and I'll be able to explain when you're alone."

Wonwoo didn't question what was going on. He just sat up and moved his water to the ground next to his foot. He was more stealthy about the salt shaker, hiding it in his sleeve and pretending to scratch his ankle as he salted the water.

A soft splash and a trickle of a few droplets told him the shrimp was in the water. A quiet "thank you" reached his ears. The smell disappeared.

The news that Rick had not only reached Jeon Wonwoo but befriend him traveled quickly back to the sea. Pictures started showing up of Wonwoo's pet on Twitter, Instagram, the news, and discarded newspapers that made their way to the depths of the ocean. The shrimp called off their attack. The creatures of the sea felt a new kinship with their most adored idol. Rick the shrimp became a hero and revolutionized how the whole ocean viewed his species.

Wonwoo started to appreciate the smell that Rick had. It wasn't pleasant, but neither was he after working out with Seungcheol and collapsing into bed with the little energy he had left. Rick did well to keep himself clean. Wonwoo vowed to never eat seafood because how could he eat from the ecosystem of his best friend?

[vixxpirational]

Inspiration: Happy Hakyeon Day Celebration Group: VIXX/ Cha Hakyeon (N) x Nameless OC Warning: Mature because of heavy religious references.  Words: 585 Note: @stirlingduchess Here you go, sweetheart. I know that it’s not quite as I was expecting, but I put on a VIXX playlist to get into the mood of “broken wings” and kind of ran with a fallen angel idea. I will be adding more to this and making this a lot longer. There will be more intimate mature/explicit content in it as well (because I’m trash heh). I hope you like this so far. What I write from here will be dedicated to you. Thank you for you patience. 

16.  Broken Wings 20. Breaking the rules

Falling in love was against the rules. Falling in love with a human was definitely against the rules.  The duty of an angel is clearly defined as being a messenger of God. Nothing more. Nothing less. There hadn't been a question to the system in thousands of years, well before Hakyeon was created. The fall of Lucifer was more of an urban legend with rare sightings, like the Yeti or the Loch Ness Monster in Earth.

Angels have free will but no will to be free. The story of Lucifer and his fallen demons seems like a legend created to scare the rest of the angels into submission to follow the rules. They have free will but no will to be free.

Hakyeon was expelled for breaking the rules. He delivered a message to a human and he fell in love. She was asleep, his assignment to talk to her in her dreams. He could see into her mind, see her struggles, see why she needed something from God. She was lost in her journey through life, standing before a road with too many forks to choose from. She needed a nudge, an inkling of what her destiny truly was with too much temptation to stray. Darkness surrounded her, workings of Lucifer (or so his training said). She was drowning under what was next for her.

He could see into her soul. He could see the was she thought about the world, the way she put people first, the way she fought for what she believed in. He could see that even in her darkest, most trying times, her heart never hardened. She loved first. Even in her sins, she always loved first.

It's why God sent him to her, to talk to her, to remind her that she's never alone. Hakyeon was selfish and fell in love with her. His wings were broken and clipped. He was expelled. He fell in love with a human so now he must live as a human.

He had free will and a will to be free. He wasn't bound by rules that kept his purpose defined. He wasn't bound by being in the presence of humans as a hope or a memory, not believed in by most. He wasn't bound by fantastical myths or scared by legends among his own kind. He wasn't an outcast of the divine creations—he walked with the most loved creations, could talk to them, befriend them, fall in love with the woman who needed connection instead of a dream.

She was more beautiful awake than she was asleep. Her laugh was sweeter than the music he heard in Heaven. Her smile was more beautiful than the Spirit. He knew what burdened her heart and she still put on a brave face for the ones who needed her more than she needed to heal.

"Hi, welcome Coffee Lab cafe. What can I order for you?" Her hair was messy, pulled back into a pony tail. Her eyelashes were defined by simple mascara. Her lips were touched with a faint red. Hakyeon couldn't help but smile with her.

"What would you recommend?"

"My personal favorite is the French Vanilla latte. It's vanilla and hazelnut syrups with espresso. I usually order it with coconut milk. It's Heavenly."

"Is it?" He can't help but to be taken by her words.

"It's what I imagine the sounds of Heaven to taste like."

"Make it exactly how you would for yourself. I would love to taste divinity.”

[vixxpirational]

Inspiration: Happy Hakyeon Day Celebration Group: VIXX/ Cha Hakyeon (N) x Reader Warning: Mature, suggestive content, gender neutral Words: 379 Note: @kekerockinrobin  Here you go, darling. Thank you for your patience. And thank you for requesting. 

4. Irresistible

There is something about Cha Hakyeon that leaves you feeling weak. He has a heart of cold and does whatever he can to help the ones he loves. He has a voice that is so unique and his own that it stands out in an industry of many voices. He has so much confidence in things people tell him are wrong that you can't help but to bask in the glow. He has a smile that literally makes your heart skip a beat.

But he has a body that leaves your knees wobbling and your hands shaking every time you two are intimate. It's not his fault you forget how to speak or stand; he just seems to shimmer with poise and beauty, with golden skin and secret smiles, and you lose all sense of what it means to be sane.

The way that he touches you, his hands roaming your body with precision and dedication to making sure you feel nothing but pure, unadulterated pleasure is what makes being someone like Hakyeon perfect. It's not that he doesn't know just how attractive he is or that he loves fiercely or that he is kind to everyone. It's the way that he spends so much time in making sure you know how much he loves you, how much he wants you, how irresistible he finds you.

Even on his birthday he spends his time making sure that you finish before he does. A day that you want to give him the same kind of attention, and he does nothing but make you the center of his world again, like always. You know that it's what he wants, that he gains pleasure from giving more than receiving, but one day a year should be enough for him to sacrifice that for you.

And he pulls you close, kissing your shoulder, collarbones, neck, jaw, lips, whispered "I love you" and "you're so amazing" between breaths.

"Happy birthday..." you finally say, a small and satisfied smile on your lips. You thread your fingers into his hair and blink up at him, his skin glistening with a layer of sweat and joy.

"Best birthday ever," he responds as he settles next to you, his arms draping over you. "Thank you for loving me."