#【💎】✦✧✦【drabble】

[orbitaldeathwoomy]

‖ ♥︎ 》 Drabble about Cerrin and Ruby after they met, takes place a few days to a week after Cerrin first reached the surface. Just kinda this vomited out and not proofread too much, so expect errors and weirdness

Cerrin raised his hand to shield his eyes from the afternoon sun's light. He had gone through hell to escape the Deepsea Metro and, after a series of what he could only describe as bizarre events, was now following the Inktoling he'd met upon reaching the surface to her home in Inkopolis. It all felt surreal, like at any moment he'd wake up and be back underground on his way to another one of those strange tests...

...Wait, the girl -- her name was Ruby, if he was remembering right -- was talking about something.

"...And, once you get settled in, we can go on a shopping spree! We'll get you some new clothes -- you can't just wear that leather outfit everyday after all! -- and stuff for your room, anything you want! Sound fun?"

Cerrin's gaze shifted downward, before a quiet, unsure "Yes...?" escaped him. Her kindness, her hospitality, it all felt so foreign to him, but he couldn't explain to himself why. He tried to shrug it off, blame the amnesia or all the horrors he had endured in the Metro for his odd feeling about all this, but somehow, he knew there had to be more to it. He just had to—

“Aaand we’re here!” Ruby said as she abruptly stopped, a small ‘oof’ escaping her when she felt Cerrin bump into her. She then turned to give him a smile, before she unclipped her keys from her bag to unlock the front door…

Leaving him to just stare in shock, awe, and mild confusion at the sheer size of her home. Amnesia or no, he was sure he had never seen anything like it before, especially given the undoubtedly cramped nature of the underground domes he initially escaped from.

And she was inviting him to live here??

“There we go!” came the taller girl’s voice a few moments later, the quiet squeaks of the front door’s hinges snapping Cerrin from his thoughts.

He barely had time to speak, however, as Ruby immediately took his hand and began leading him through her home, his blue eyes wide with that same confusion and awe as they walked and she talked. Everything looked so clean and pristine, from the somewhat reflective floors of the main entrance room to the stairway that led to the mansion’s second floor. Even the end tables in the halls were decorated with vases of flowers and trinkets, and the occasional artworks that hung on the walls were ornately framed. It was all so much to take in, and he hardly made a sound until they stopped in front of a door.

“This’ll be your room!” Ruby cheerfully said as she turned the knob and opened the door, gesturing for him to enter first.

The room felt a tiny bit more down to earth than what he had seen of the rest of the house, with a queen-sized bed up against the back windows and a glass door on the left leading to a balcony. There was a large wooden shelf against one of the adjacent walls and an open door next to it that led in to an empty walk-in closet, and another door that he could only assume led to a private bathroom of some sort on the opposite side of the room. A rather comfortable looking chair sat across from a big, wall-mounted TV near the door.

…It was still a lot to take in.

“Sorry it’s a little empty right now.” she apologized, her sheepish smile immediately brightening when she looked at him. “But, we’ll definitely fill it with whatever you want soon! So don’t worry, okay? It’ll feel like home in no time!”

The pink Octoling shook his head a little, trying to gather his thoughts. It was a lot more than he had expected…

“It’s… It’s fine.” he replied softly, part of him still expecting this to end up being some kind of dream. “You don’t need to—”

All of a sudden, quiet buzz interrupted him. Ruby immediately pulled a phone out of her pocket, her smile widening as she hastily typed something then turned back to him.

“Come with me!” Ruby seemed even more excited now as she shoved her phone back into her pocket. She then took hold of his hand once more, not bothering to close the door behind them as she led him back downstairs.

By the time Cerrin had come up with something to say, they had already reached the kitchen. Ruby pulled him toward where another, even taller Octoling stood, his attention shifting from the phone in his hand to the two of them. He looked to be rather stern…

…That is, until he spoke.

“I take it this is the new friend you mentioned?” he asked, a slight laugh laced among his gentle voice.

“Yup!” Ruby replied, her smile bright as she gestured to Cerrin. “Dad, this is Cerrin! And Cerrin, this is my dad…”

“Akihiko Aroz.” the taller Octoling said, holding out his right hand for a shake. “It’s nice to finally meet the friend my daughter has been so excited about.”

Cerrin paused for a short moment, before slowly taking the other male’s hand and giving it a hesitant shake. “I-It’s nice you meet you too, sir…”

Akihiko softly laughed again as he released Cerrin’s hand. “No need for formalities, just my name is alright.” he said with a small smile. He then leaned back against the counter, his hands in his pockets. “Now, Ruby told me that you recently left the Octarian army and came to the surface?”

“Y-Yes, Mr. Aroz, sir…”

“And at such a young age, too… That was very brave of you.” the older Octoling said, still smiling. “Well, you’re more than welcome to stay with us for as long as you want.”

Cerrin’s eyes widened a little. “A-Are you sure?”

“Of course. I know how hard it is to leave that place, and I’d hate to see someone as young as you have to face this new and unforgiving town alone like I did.”

“But, sir, I’m seventeen—”

“Aw, c’mon, Cerrin!” Ruby interrupted, a bright smile of her face. “There’s no reason for you to fend for yourself out there when we’ve got plenty of room for you here!”

“But what about the costs of me staying? I can’t expect you to pay for me…”

“It’s not an issue.” came Akihiko’s reply, another small laugh escaping him when Cerrin opened his mouth to protest again. “We have more than enough money. And beside that, I don’t mind helping a friend of my daughter, especially one who has already had to struggle so much just to get here.”

Cerrin fell silent. Were they serious? The idea that they were perfectly fine with taking in some strange teenager and offering him everything like this, for free… He just couldn’t wrap his head around it. Surely they wanted something in return…

“But now that that’s taken care of…” Ruby said, her smile remaining as she wrapped her arm around Cerrin’s shoulders. “It’s time for us to go shopping! We gotta get you some new clothes, and some decorations for your room, and—”

“Ruby…” came her father’s gentle interruption, causing her to stop and watch as he nodded toward the window across the room.

Ah, the sun was setting.

“Right, right…” she said sheepishly. She then released Cerrin from her hold, a small smile on her face. “You’re probably really tired from all this, huh? You should take tonight to rest, and I’ll bring some dinner up for you later!”

“Wait,” Cerrin began, his brow furrowed slightly in confusion. “I… I can help with the food—”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head!” Ruby replied as she gave him a pat on the back, causing his entire body to tense up for a few seconds. “Just take some time to chill, watch TV, take a nice, hot shower, whatever!”

“But—”

“So what do you like on your pizza?”

He gave her a confused look.

“…Oh, that’s right. They might not have had… I’ll just get a regular one for you.” she said, before pulling her cellphone from her pocket. “Now go on, and let your auntie Ruby take care of everything~”

Cerrin watched as she called a number on her phone, a defeated sigh escaping him a moment later. He moved go back to the room she had offered him, only to feel a tap on his shoulder before he could leave.

“May I come with you?” Akihiko asked, a small smile forming on his lips when Cerrin gave him a nod. Once they left the kitchen, he spoke again.

「I’m sorry if Ruby was overbearing.」 he apologized. 「She’s just happy to have you staying here.」

Cerrin’s eyes widened for a split second, before his gaze focused on the floor. 「It’s… alright.」 he mumbled.

「Is something wrong?」

「N-No, sir, I just…」 Cerrin paused to take a breath, still avoiding eye contact with the much taller Octoling. He wasn’t in any position to complain, he thought, but there was just so much on his mind… 「I’m a little overwhelmed. That’s all.」

Akihiko laughed softly. 「Believe me, I understand. I was too, when I first came to Inkopolis after I left the army.」

Cerrin fell silent again. His words were stuck in his head, unsure of how to come out without sounding rude or ungrateful. Because he was the exact opposite — Grateful, and more than they knew.

But part of him was afraid. Afraid that this was all too good to be true, that eventually, they would leave him to fend for himself…

Soon enough, the pair reached Cerrin’s room, with Akihiko remaining in the hall as the younger Octoling opened the door.

「Thank you for your hospitality, sir. 」 he said softly.

「It’s no trouble at all.」

A moment of silence passed, before Cerrin took a step inside the room.

「Oh, and Cerrin?」

He froze.

「Y-Yes…?」

「Try not to worry.」 Cue a smile from Akihiko, his voice even gentler than it had been before. 「You’re safe here.」

Cerrin turned to stare at him, disbelief in his wide eyes before his voice came out on an unsure breath.

「…Yeah…」

And with that, he quietly closed the door and immediately walked across the room, unceremoniously flopping onto the bed the second he reached it. It was soft, but not too soft, the blankets equally comfortable as he rolled onto his side.

「Safe, huh…?」 he thought as he reached to pull one of the pillows at the head of the bed down and clutched it tightly against his chest.

「…Anything’s safer than that place…」 he mumbled, closing his eyes and doing his best to keep his breaths calm and steady.

It was all so much to take in…

…But at least that uneasy feeling from earlier had passed.

[studioeisa]

growing sideways 📧 jeonghan x reader.

yours, whether you like it or not,

📧 pairing. co-workers!jeonghan x reader. 📧 social media au & epistolary (told through emails). 📧 genres. alternate universe: non-idol, alternate universe: co-workers. romance, humor. 📧 includes. mention of alcohol; suggestive language; profanity. workplace rivals, corporate jargon, engineering terms i definitely butchered, use of y/n l/n for e-mail purposes. title from noah kahan’s growing sideways; waaay too many kahan references, really. style and format insp. by cinnamorussell’s tell all your friends i’m crazy (i’ll drive you mad). 📧 notes. this is a bit long, but we ball. in one of my first conversations with @diamonddaze01, we dreamed up workplace rival yoon jeonghan. i offer it, now, as part of a month-long celebration for the person i’ve dedicated a good quarter of my work to. tara, i’ll never meet someone who won’t know about you. nanu ninnannu pritisuttene! 🔭

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from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Test Platform Validation Report (EU Submission)

Yoon,

I reviewed the validation draft you uploaded this morning. Fascinating interpretation of clause 4.3.2. Bold of you to skip the stability data appendix entirely. I can only assume it was an artistic choice.

Also, the raw tensile data from the 0528 batch isn’t included. If it was meant to be in the shared drive, it wasn’t in any of the usual folders (QA_Share > FR_Validation > tensile_data > missing_files > probably_Jeonghan’s).

I’ve attached my edits. I added actual numbers.

Regards, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: Test Platform Validation Report (EU Submission)

Thank you for the prompt review. I assumed your obsession with clause 4.3.2 would outweigh your impulse to nitpick, but alas—some things never change.

The stability data was excluded intentionally while awaiting results from the accelerated aging test. If you opened the protocol (second folder under QA_Share > FR_Validation > tensile_data > definitely_not_missing), you’d see that.

As for your edits, I appreciate the effort. It’s cute when you pretend Excel likes you back.

Best, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: EU Submission - FR Manufacturing Coordination

Yoon,

Not that I expect you to read full briefs, but just in case you skimmed this one: yes, the transfer protocols need to be locked before next Friday if we want the France site to hit qualification by Q3.

Your last edits to the QAP template were inspired. I didn’t know it was possible to confuse ISO 13485 with a haiku.

I’ve restructured the equipment IQ section. You’re welcome. You’ll need to coordinate with Wonwoo at the Lyon site for vendor access, assuming you remember to email him this time.

I’ll see you in Lyon.

Disrespectfully, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: EU Submission - FR Manufacturing Coordination

Of course I read the brief. Just because I don’t annotate every margin with red ink and superiority complexes doesn’t mean I don’t understand the deadline.

I’ll coordinate with Wonwoo, assuming you don’t scare him off again with your charmingly blunt emails. (I still have the screenshot of him calling you “intimidatingly competent.”)

By the way, your IQ revisions look fine. Shockingly legible this time. Congratulations.

I’ll see you in Lyon. Try not to sabotage the coffee machine this trip.

Until customs detains us, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: EU Submission - FR Manufacturing Coordination

If Wonwoo was intimidated, it’s because I sent him instructions written in complete sentences. A rare treat, I know.

You still haven’t confirmed the calibration matrix. We’ll need the traceable certs before equipment ships, or do you plan to charm EU regulators into letting us slide on documentation? Actually, don’t answer that. I’ve seen you talk to vendors.

Also: bring the correct adapter this time. I’m not sharing an outlet with you again.

Best of luck (to me), L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: EU Submission - FR Manufacturing Coordination

The calibration matrix is in the tracker: third tab, fourth column, next to the thing labeled “READ ME, PLEASE” Try it. It’s fun.

And yes, I plan to charm the regulators. You, on the other hand, can stun them into compliance with your piercing PowerPoint transitions.

As for the outlet. I’m bringing an adapter. And a surge protector. For reasons.

Looking forward to our time in France. Nothing says “teamwork” like four days of jetlag and passive aggression.

Yours in regulatory purgatory, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

YJH 👿 (Work) [8:13 AM]: why do you type so aggressively. the guy next to me thinks you’re yelling at me You [8:14 AM]: he’s not wrong. YJH 👿 (Work) [8:15 AM]: did you really need three highlighters in your carry-on? You [8:15 AM]: yes. the pink one is for your mistakes. YJH 👿 (Work) [8:16 AM]: romantic You [8:16 AM]: if you die on this trip it’s going to be from a highlighter to the throat. YJH 👿 (Work) [8:17 AM]: worth it You [8:17 AM]: you are the worst seatmate in existence. YJH 👿 (Work) [8:18 AM]: you snore when you pretend not to be sleeping and your pointy elbow crosses the line You [8:18 AM]: so we’re calling it a truce? YJH 👿 (Work) [8:19 AM]: we’re calling it foreplay

☾ You have silenced Notifications.

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user1 oui oui 😜 user2 Who are you wearing??? ho5hi_kwon surprised a murder hasn’t occurred lolololol ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ ↳ jeonghaniyoo_n not counting it out just yet user3 WHAT’S 4+4? ATEEE user4 Is he a model? ↳ sound_of_coups please don’t say that his head is going to get so big

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View all comments user1 bwoah . . . feat.dino STUNT ON THEM HOESSSS ♥︎ Liked by creator user2 gender gender gender 😮‍💨 user3 Really need to know where the second pic is !! Plsss DM yourusername i see how it is ↳ jeonghaniyoo_n credits. xo

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: FR Submission Debrief + Documentation

Yoon,

Per our debrief notes (the ones not written on a cocktail napkin), I’ve uploaded the final QAP revisions and vendor qualification summaries to the shared drive. You can stop emailing me pictures of our hotel room as  “documentation.” Though impressive dedication to fieldwork.

Also, your expense report still lists the mini bar from Tuesday night. Pretty bold move, considering you insisted you only drank half the bottle.

Respectueusement, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: FR Submission Debrief + Documentation

You’re welcome for the in-room stress testing of French plumbing. I was being thorough.

Also, I did only drink half. You drank the other half and then told the front desk I was your emotional support engineer.

Re: shared drive. I see your formatting crimes continue. I fixed your spacing in the risk assessment table. Try to be better.

Yours across all timezones, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: FR Submission Debrief + Documentation

Yoon,

I’d fix my spacing if you’d stop adjusting my bullet styles just to mess with me. And next time, maybe don’t volunteer us for the plant tour while hungover. Watching you nearly fall into a vat of solvent was not the regulatory impression we wanted.

Stop calling me yours, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

P.S. You still owe me one (1) bed. I’m adding it to your performance review.

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: FR Submission Debrief + Documentation

Not my fault someone booked the hotel late and got us the romantic suite. You’re lucky I didn’t call room service for rose petals.

I’ve uploaded the final sign-offs and confirmation from the French regulatory contact—who says we’re the most “thorough and theatrically matched” engineers she’s worked with. I think that’s a compliment.

Let me know if I’ve missed any appendices. Or if you want your highlighter back.

Yours, even if you deny me (hotel registration said so), Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

P.S. I liked sharing the room with you. Not because of budget errors or international confusion. Just because it was you.

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from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Supplier Audit Timeline + Other Things

Great audit notes, as usual. I’ve attached my edits for the CAPA log. We’ll have to discuss column F, because your formulas hate me.

Also, bold of you to post a photo of flowers on a Tuesday. Does SVT approve PTO for midweek romance now?

Am I being cheated on?, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Supplier Audit Timeline + Other Things

Yoon,

Corrected the formula logic in column F. Try not to break it again.

And yes, Tuesday dates are a thing now. Believe it or not, some people find me tolerable enough to see more than once.

Shocking, I know.

Regrets, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: Supplier Audit Timeline + Other Things

Don’t worry. I’m sure your second date will be charmed by your bullet point consistency.

Personally, I’ve never seen the appeal of dating someone like you. Too sharp. Too bossy. Too quick to judge formula errors.

Fortunately, SVT doesn’t require us to like each other outside of Gantt charts.

Yours, whether you like it or not, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Supplier Audit Timeline + Other Things

Yoon,

Believe me, the feeling is mutual. I'd sooner date a malfunctioning tensile tester.

I fixed your math in the timeline estimates. Again. Please don’t bother me for the rest of the week. I’m going to be busy preparing for date number two.

(You wish I was) Yours, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp 

You [11:42 PM]: he ghosted me. u jinxed it. You [11:43 PM]: i shaved my legs for nothing. hope ur happy. You [11:44 PM]: he said he liked my slides. he LIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You [11:45 PM]: sitting alone at a bar rn contemplating the meaning of life.. and if i can blow u up telepahteitcally.... YJH 👿 (Work) [11:45 PM]: *telepathically YJH 👿 (Work) [11:46 PM]: which bar. You [11:47 PM]: fucking MANSPLAINER You [11:47 PM]: don’t come near me EVEREVER

YJH 👿 (Work) requested your location.

You started sharing your location with YJH 👿 (Work).

You [11:50 PM]: fuckfcuckfuckity my fat fucking thumbs FMLLL YJH 👿 (Work) [11:53 PM]: i’m coming. don’t order tequila until i get there. or do. i want to see the disaster myself. You [11:55 PM]: jerk YJH 👿 (Work) [11:56 PM]: always. save me a seat, heartbreak girl

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user1 Caption + second slide >>>> joshu_acoustic is that yourusername in the last slide 🫨 ↳ jeonghaniyoo_n is it ? yourusername ↳ yourusername must be a lookalike ♥︎ Liked by creator ↳ dk_is_dokyeom THAT’S ME yourusername & min6yu_k !!! ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ user2 just one chance pls,, user3 Wait was that a wine date or

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Equipment Revalidation Schedule 

Yoon,

Your revised equipment validation timeline looks solid. I’ve flagged the dates where QRA and process requal overlap. You’ll need to talk to Ops to make sure there’s no resource conflict.

Also, thanks. For the other night.

Don’t make a thing out of it. Reluctantly yours, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp 

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: Equipment Revalidation Schedule 

Wow. A “thanks.” What is this, a truce?

Noted on the QRA overlap—I’ll sync with Ops and shift our timeline by 2-3 business days. I’ve attached a revised Gantt for your very critical review.

Also: you owe me fries.

Yours with no reluctance whatsoever, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

P.S. Don’t let your guard down. I’d hate for you to start thinking I’m nice.

P.P.S. You’re beautiful when drunk. Infuriating, but beautiful.

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Equipment Revalidation Schedule 

Attached: my comments on your Gantt chart (see rows 14–27). Also, your font choices are unhinged. You’re lucky you’re marginally good at your job.

Fries are contingent on you not mentioning the karaoke. Sober now, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

P.S. You’re nice when you think I’m too drunk to remember.

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: Equipment Revalidation Schedule 

I’ll swap the font if it means less red pen in my inbox.

And don’t worry, I’d never mention your rendition of “Dancing Queen” in front of senior management. Or that you made me sing backup.

As for being nice: I was just making sure you didn’t fall asleep in a nacho basket. Again.

Drunk on you, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

P.S. I remember everything you said. Even the parts you don’t.

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user1 fly safe, babygirl user2 ermmm.. am i witnessing a soft launch ?! min9yu_k I’d know that YSL bag from anywhere 😏 user3 How can I be youuu :( user4 is that a BOYFRIEND?! junhui_moon strategic non-response to any of the comments here #respect

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: France Stability Testing Timeline 

Attached: updated protocol outline and projected data submission window. Added notes re: temperature excursions flagged by the lab.

Unrelated, but I saw your latest post. Interesting how you managed to frame the lighting just right on that cafe table. Almost as if someone you work with took the photo.

Also, bold choice uploading a cropped version of that one picture of me holding five tote bags. Very “soft launch,” very subtle.

Launched like a rocket ship, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: France Stability Testing Timeline 

This isn’t the time.

The humidity chamber failed mid-run and half of the accelerated aging samples are compromised. I’ll need to retest from baseline and revalidate the controls. Not sure yet if it pushes our submission, but I’m flagging it with QA.

I suggest you review section 6.2 of the protocol instead of obsessing over my Instagram.

L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: France Stability Testing Timeline 

Didn’t mean to distract. I hadn’t seen the alert yet. Engineering just looped me in on the chamber issue. I’ll prioritize sourcing backup samples and contact Tech Ops to check chamber calibration across all zones.

You’ll have data. We’ll make it work.

(But if you were soft-launching me, I looked great.)

Trying too hard, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: France Stability Testing Timeline 

Yoon,

Appreciated. Sorry I snapped.

I just really didn’t want this run to go sideways. I know it’s not your fault—but I’ve been fielding calls since 7:00 a.m. and I’m a little fried.

Yours and then some, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

P.S. You looked ridiculous, but sure. Let the internet wonder.

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: France Stability Testing Timeline 

You can yell at me any time. Preferably not before coffee, but I’ll survive.

QA says they’ll expedite sample disposal so we can start the new batch by end of week. I sent you a revised Gantt. And a snack. Don’t fight me on it.

Yours in whatever way you’ll have me, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

P.S. Internet speculation is already intense. I’ve received two DMs inquiring if I’m truly off the market. Is this your twisted little way of staking claim?

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: France Stability Testing Timeline 

The snack was suspiciously well-timed. You’re lucky I like sesame.

Re: QA—I’ll update the submission calendar and notify Regulatory we’re adjusting the stability window.

And tell your fans I’m flattered, but my standards are higher than “guy who argues about font weight in shared spreadsheets.”

Yours for some reason (When did I succumb to this?), L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: France Stability Testing Timeline

For the record, I wasn’t arguing. I was advocating for consistent formatting.

Also: I’m sorry. For earlier. I should’ve checked the system alerts before joking around. You always catch things first, and I forget what it’s like to be under that kind of pressure all the time.

Let me know what else you need. I mean it.

Yours for equally no reason (I bookmarked the first time you signed off with ‘yours’, btw), Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

Liked by woozi_universefactory, vernonline, and others yourusername   needed coffee 

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sound_of_coups 🎣 Hook, line, sinker user1 can this guy fight omfg user2 Even his side view is ethereal. What the hale vernonline okurrr ♥︎ Liked by jeonghaniyoo_n   ↳ yourusername ? jeonghaniyoo_n wasn’t aware i had paparazzi   ↳ pledis_boos IS THIS ALLOWEDDD IS THIS ALLOWED

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Apologies for the Timestamp 

Yoon,

I realize this is past hours. I won’t pretend it’s an emergency—it’s just the draft for the stability test realignment we discussed. I needed to get it out of my head or I wouldn’t sleep. It can wait until morning. I just didn’t want to forget.

Sorry. Again. Sleep well, or party well, or whatever it is you’re doing tonight.

Terribly sorry, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp 

Got your email—yes, timestamp noted.

I’m out. Drinking. Loud music, terrible lighting, questionable tequila. I’ll look at the draft during actual work hours. I promise.

Also, you do know that you’re allowed to exist outside work. Don’t apologize for thinking too hard. That’s half your brand.

Buzzing like a drunk bumblebee, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

Yoon,

Enjoy your night out. Try not to bully the DJ. May your drinks be overpriced and your lighting flattering.

And hey—hope you pull. You deserve someone mildly tolerable for a few hours.

Cheers, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp 

The drinks are terrible. The lighting is flattering. I’ve technically pulled, but she’s more interested in the bartender now, which is fine because—

I miss you. You, and your midnight overthinking, and your Excel color codes, and the way you always say “don’t wait up” but still check your inbox five minutes later.

I miss you. Stupidly. Even while I’m here.

Yours at my own risk, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

Yoon,

Pray tell why you're getting drunk and you're "pulling" what I can assume to be ABGs whose names you won't even know in the morning, and yet you're still in the club, emailing me? Missing my drunken emails?

Why? Are the girls of Wall Street not enough for you?

Totally not jealous, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

I can answer this so simply, it won’t even be fun.

The girls of Wall Street will never be you.

No one will ever be you.

I'm not enjoying my night as much as I should because you're not here. I'm in the club, drunk AND emailing you. That should tell you everything.

Come out with me next time. Wreck my plans. Ruin the music. Steal my coat.

I may be playing with fire, but to hell with it.

Burning myself, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp 

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

I can feel you overthinking all the way from here. You’re probably thinking that I’ll wake up tomorrow morning and regret all of this. That I will be unable to face you at work come Monday, when I am no longer drunk out of my mind and thinking you are the most brilliant, most gorgeous, most infuriating person alive. 

You will be right. Thankfully, though, these are—what do the kids call it? ‘Receipts’. You will have a paper trail. These emails will be between you, me, and that Australian guy from IT. 

He will know, and you will know, that I may have the most miniscule work crush on you. 

Jesus Christ. What am I? A high schooler? 

Let’s try that again: Love is just a chemical reaction that compels animals to breed. What I’m feeling for you isn’t love. It’s so much more than that.

Love sucks, and I need to sober up, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

Get home safe, Jeonghan.

Yours, with questions, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

You just called me Jeonghan.

Yours, with answers (maybe), Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

That’s your name, isn’t it?

Stop e-mailing me while you’re at the club.

Fine. Yours, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

P.S.: I may have the most miniscule work crush on you, too.

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

i am  goi n    to die

Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

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vernonline lfggg min9yu_k 🤮 JK! Congrats junhui_moon saw this coming from a mile away sound_of_coups Gorgeousss   ↳ jeonghaniyoo_n back off, bud. dk_is_dokyeom (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶) love is love everyone_woo oh god what about our project   ↳ yourusername please check your e-mail. :)   ↳ everyone_woo fml.

Liked by jeonghaniyoo_n, dk_is_dokyeom, and others yourusername   dreaming each night of this version of you :)

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xuminghao_o Not seeing yjh in suits is disconcerting ho5hi_kwon RAH RAH RAH RAHHH woozi_universefactory 👍   ↳ jeonghaniyoo_n JIHOON????????????? pledis_boos U CAN DO BETTER THAN HIM GIRL joshua_acoustic So happy for you two! feat.dino my otp fr jeonghaniyoo_n mine ♥︎ Liked by creator   ↳ yourusername yours,

[ang3lofdivinity]

I just randomly thought of the idea of you and Jinx swimming together. Though you both cannot go too far out, you both still manage to have fun together as you swim through the crashing waves of the waters, giggling and laughing as you try to see who can get the farthest away from the island first.

And other times, you both simply just sit under a tree on a blanket, admiring the scene unfolding before you. You lay against the blanket while Jinx is still sitting up. And then, all of the sudden— with no warning: she suddenly straddles your hips and starts tickling you. You let out screeches of giggles as you find yourself writhing and squirming, trying to get her off to no avail, tears running down your cheeks as you loosing your breath. And she just stares down at you with that sly smirk of hers, not stopping her ministrations until minutes later.

(You’re going to get her back for that).

And then, the most common for the two of you both: admiring the sunset as it dips below the horizon, sitting right next to each other as her head rests on your shoulder. And slowly, you find your head laying atop of hers, turning a bit to kiss the crown of her head - causing her to giggle in response, and so you place more until she pulls away from you with this mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Oh toots, you shouldn’t have done that!” And within seconds, she’s on top of you, kissing you with reckless abandon as you laugh as the ticklish sensation, trying to push her away by her shoulders (with really no effort. You really enjoy this).

“JINX!— STOP!” You laugh out, but Jinx simply ignores your please and continues to kiss you, going down from your face to your jaw, and then your neck.

(Really crappy but I’m very bored).

Calypso!reader and Jinx masterlist

[theanimeroom]

No bc baji putting his hair up is a whole different breed like as soon as he puts it up I'm just spazzing out cutely bc of how fine he is

LIKE

WHO LET HIM COOK?!

WHO LET THIS MAN BE SO FINE?!?!

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

WHO LET THIS MAN COOK IS FUCKING RIGHT LIKE?????

let us discuss 💎 fine ass!baji keisuke who’s hair is too long for anyone’s good, even his own.

now the man has an immense love for his hair. like don’t ever ask him to cut it, because the answer is no. but although he loves his hair, he really fucking hates his hair. it gets in his face all the time when he’s doing literally anything, he has to get it trimmed every month to ensure that it stays healthy, and although he would never cut it, the mop on his head makes him want to rip it out with his bare hands on a daily basis.

aside from that though, the main reason he would never even consider cutting his hair was because of you.

you’d always talked about baji’s hair and how much it turned you on to see him put it up in a ponytail, especially when he was about to fight. you hated seeing the man getting violent with someone else, but you’d let him tussle as much as he wanted if it meant getting to watch his wrap the little elastic band around his hair, pulling it up and away from his face in hurried motions.

it was a beautiful sight, one for your ears and pussy alike. your favorite sight was when he was laid out between your legs, eyes watching you with a smirk as he grabbed the locks in two fistfuls, making it as neat as possible before typing the band around it, letting the bun sit where you could see it perfectly as he dove into his favorite meal.

this is becoming canon for me to say this but… he’d never clue you in on the fact that his favorite sight was when your head was thrown back in pleasure, desperate whimpers escaping you as you clawed at his head so much the band ended up falling out, your fingers immediately finding purchase in the locks, pulling tightly as the other band in your stomach unraveled within you.

[nattyluvs]

things you love about bf!skz

pairing: boyfriend!skz x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, drabbles cursing(?), mentions of being a princess

wordcount: 1.3k

bang chan

out of the year or so you two have dated, you haven't failed to notice how observant chan is. even if its something very small thats different about you, he will always point it out.

"there's a bruise on the side of your thigh, what happened?" he would ask, concerningly.

even when you get new clothes, he notices. "are those pants new? they look good on you" he says with a grin on his face. you're starting to believe his brain has yo enter new data everytime theres something different about your appearance.

or the time where you had come back from hanging out with your friends, and the next morning he said "did you get a new piercing? your ear has an extra hole."

chan would point out. this specific scenario ended up with your reply, "channie, how did you even notice...? i took the piercing out already." which thoughtfully, he responded "what can i say, the longer i look at your the more i notice"

lee know

when someone says "dont judge a book by its cover" it definetly applies to people, especially lee know. before getting to know him, he was a completely different person. he cares more than you'd think, almost too much you'd feel like a burden.

like the one time you went out to a private club to celebrate a friend's birthday. you had gotten a little more than tipsy, accidently calling lee know to tell him "how much you miss your boyfriend" and "i need a hug from my boyfriend right now" which gave him the signal to drive his car out to pick you and your friends up, even letting them stay the night at your house.

everytime your mood even changes slightly, he gets worried. even if nothing had even happened to you. he always asks "are you okay love?" and makes sure to take over cooking for that night (and cook very well, mind you) he just wants to make sure you're always happy, because if you're sad, he's sad.

changbin

one thing about changbin is that he's always worried about you. especially for your safety. sometimes it gets a little out of hand, he freaked out when you tripped while you were walking after your date.

you were wearing a new pair of shoes you hadn't gotten used to.

of course, you hadn't fallen to the ground. you kept your balance before you could fall. although, with his quick reflexes he grabbed your waist to pull you back up. (even though you werent going to fall)

changbin being the person he is, proceeded to say, "i know we just went on a date, but dont hurt yourself falling for me sweetheart." you lightly shoved him, annoyed at the cheesy line and embarassed at the petname. to make sure you didnt hurt yourself again, he kept one of his hands on your back, as if he was guiding the way.

hyunjin

no matter how many people are in a room, hyunjin is always looking at you. you first noticed this a little after you had first met. your roomate had invited jisung over, which led to hyunjin coming too. you were all having a conversation at the dinner table, but the only thing you could focus on was the way

hyunjin was looking at you so intensely.

later when you two had eventually starting dating, you had come to discover that was his "im interested in this thing infront of me" face. like how he stared at paintings in an art gallery he found interesting, he stared at you in the same amazement.

another time was after you decided to become a trainee. you and 7 other nee friends were going to perform a cover of one of stray kids' songs. this was a few years after they debuted, and since you two began dating before his debut, obviously he was thrilled when you were on stage covering his song. you could see him in the vip area, embarassingly blowing kisses and hearts at you. he had on a "disguise" but you could tell it was him from a mile away.

han jisung

jisung is overly thoughtful. he likes to express his love for you through words, and tries to do it regularly, as if you're going to forget he loves you. one of the ways he expresses this undying love for you is through sticky notes. specifically, he bought different colors for everyday of the week.

for the days you came back from work late, he left a note on the kitchen counter, usually resulting in seeing him asleep on the couch with the tv playing. you felt bad he tried to stay awake in order to see you when you got home, but his effort was appreciated. the notes usually consisted or something like, "y/n! i hope you had a good day at work, even if you didnt i'm still proud of you. theres food in the fridge for you! - love hannie"

the other way he expressed his love for you was through his music. you went to the studio to suprise him one time, and overheard on a conversation including chan and changbin. they were complaining about how all of the songs han wrote were love songs. you could tell they appreciated it, but an entire album can't be love songs. it was even more embarassing for han when you had accidently heard one of his unreleased songs, a sweet love song, lyrics flowing perfectly with his voice.

felix

one habit felix will never get out of is touching. even before you dated, you could tell he was a skinship person. no matter what, he feels the need to touch you at all times. whether its a hug, holding hands, or even touching your fingers. you don't mind of course. you think its sweet.

he even admitted that theres this feeling of uneasy-ness when he isn't near you. even if you are near eachother, he has the urge to do something in order to be touching you, like a sense of overprotecting.

even doing simple things, like while making dinner, he has to be hugging you from the back. or while you're cutting up some vegatables, he feels the need to guide your hand while you cut, as if it was the first time you picked up a knife. whenever you walk side by side, hands are always entertwined. sitting down at the dinner table? his hand is on your thigh, or ontop of your hand.

seungmin

seungmin thinks about you alot, even if he doesnt admit it to your face. something you've realized is how much attention he pays when you speak, always remembering small things you tell him.

like the time you were on lunch break at work, scrolling through whatever social media app, you sent him a desert recipe you wanted to try sometime. a day or so later, you got home and he had followed tbe recipe in order to make it, even if it wasn't perfect. he wants to make you happy and keep it that way.

or how when he asked to be your boyfriend, he got you and him matching necklaces. because beforehand you had told him about your friend and their boyfriend, and how they got matching bracelets and they were so cure. saying how "you'd love to have a matching item with someone"

jeongin

he loves spoiling you, no matter how much you refuse and try to repay him. he always says "your happiness and love is the only payment i need" with a smile on his face. he was so sweet, but you wanted to make sure he was happy too sometimes.

if you see something through the window of a store you like? hes already at the counter getting ready to pay. It would take 3 hands to count the amount of times he had to fight for the bill, not wanting to make you pay for it. you felt bad not paying for your portion of the meal, no matter how much he reassured you.

he makes sure to give you princess treatment if you're feeling even the slightest bit down. when you had a bad day at work, he immediately out everything else he was supposed to do aside, and planned a relaxing spa evening at home for you. together, you did skincare, massages, and he even let you paint his nails.

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

taglist form

a/n: sorry a few of them are longer than the other ones, thinking of writing a fic based off of one of these tbh...also yes i am stalling for my smau rn u caught me

[officialdaydreamer00]

Jade Leech's tsum bounces over to you, wearing a strawberry dress costume over his dorm uniform. It looks as if he finds the costume amusing, but was struggling to hop as the frills of his dress collar was bothering him.

ASJSLDJFLSLK—

"... what."

confused is an understatement when you saw this... thing... bouncing towards you. your eyes caugh the strawberry print fabric it was wearing and pursed your lips. you couldn't afford to laugh when you still didn't know what this plushie looking thing was!

you knelt down to observe this bouncy thing that look at bit too much like a certain octavinelle student. from the mismatched eye colour, to the hair, even the dorm uniform under the strawberry dress. you were sure as hell this was the plush form of jade leech, octavinelle's vice dorm leader.

"uhhh...." you didn't know what you were supposed to do with it. "do i just... pick you up, or...?"

surely, talking to... whatever it was... was a strange sight to witness.

it made a few noises in agreement (in your opinion) and bounced right into your arms. you were startled and, had it not for your quick reflex, almost fell on your butt. you sent the thing an annoyed look, then sighed, looking as it snuggled in your hold. you moved to sit under a nearby tree.

"well, i guess i can stay like this for a while..."

... you ended up dozing off for several hours.

taglist🏷️ @azulashengrottospiano @aqua-beam @hisui-dreamer @identity-theft-101 @siren-serenity @ang33333333l @leonistic @dove-da-birb @krenenbaker @savanaclaw1996 @ryker-writes @twistwonderlanddevotee @red-viewe @minimallyminnie @moonlit-midnight @silvers-numberonefan @shyhaya @axvwriter @mermaidfanficlibrary @cookiesandbiscuits @eynnwwyjth @bun-lapin @spooks907 @thehollowwriter @jaylleoo14

reblogs are appreciated!!

[gempantheon]

Smoke and ash curl around his lungs, each rugged, pained breath brings with it shards of pain digging into his lungs and settling just within his chest. The world warped and screamed, light was bent wrong with the eruption of the earth mere inches from him as he scrambled out of the way, fingers digging into ivory fur stained with black stripes as Topaz Tiger ran. Carrying him upon his back and jumping from rock spiral to the next that rips upwards from the earth, he'd followed the trail of destruction. How low their numbers were. He'd noticed that he'd awaken at odd hours, with the chilling, familiar sensation of dread clinging to his figure. How it felt like no matter how far he went, there was never another soul alike themselves, as if the gifts were being culled before they could truly mature.

He hates being right.

Jolted to the right, fists tighten into fur as Topaz Tiger slams into the ground, claws scraping against the soil before taking off into a sprint again as the ground explodes next to them, he has to duck his face down to avoid the debris that lands on him along with the cloud of dust. More hellfire follows, scraping through the land, and he can hear Topaz grunt, pain lances through the bond, searing and as if intent to choke him from within.

"Topaz!" He cries against hurricane force gales, just as the roar of the tiger rips out alongside uttered words, to his left he can see Amethysty Cat, her agility and grace guiding her through the canyon and scaling it's walls as the hoard of creatures, twisted features, mangled beyond recognition and the putrid stench accompanying their rotted figures, they nip at her heels, missing her sleek figurine by inches. Maws open with rows of teeth that do not belong, this unnatural otherworldly force that should wither away yet now feasts upon the spiritual kin, his kin. Not by blood but by abilities, their shared attributes upon this planet.

"Amethyst!" Tugging at her bond relinquishes the lithe panther back to the spirit world, intangible and thus unable to be touched for the time being. The others are already behind; Sapphire had been the first to be attacked. He can only silently beg that he'll be able to mend the twisted wing that had splayed out across the grass at an awkward angle. Each crystal beast had taken down numerous foes, but they returned, as if hungering for the light that shone off of them, to revitalize itself in all its wicked glory. Why was it here? Why was it so twisted? Was the war not ended years ago? How long would it continue to persist? Was that why he was their reincarnation? Was it targeting him because of his forced awakening?

Another narrow miss with the cascading fall of light that pools behind them, Topaz Tiger is slowing down, and they haven't made nearly as much ground as he would have wished. Claws digging into the grass and kicking up dirt as he hangs on for dear life, with it can he hear the strain in the bond, Topaz's energy is nearly spent, and soon. He won't be able to continue on wards. He's still not ready yet, still inexperienced, and his abilities- the ground comes fast as he slams into it, rolling across rocks and dirt as Topaz's bond flares with agony. Blood splattering everywhere as the haunting scream rips from his lips just as the crystal beast shatters to the ether, having taken the brunt of the impact for him. The beast's blood is splattered everywhere, a bright golden hue that makes him sick to his stomach. Yet the gurgle he hears is not the bile that rushes up his throat.

It towers, blotting out the skies like it had any right to be there, spread outwards as opalescent liquid drips off it, the face he can barely make out of its grotesque form is smiling, wide and manic. The echoing laughter that he feels in his bones, less than his ears, it rattles down to the very core of his soul, he knows what it is, this burning sensation being so close only came from one other who had been infected with it. But how was it here now? This abomination of its being pooled together into a physical mass to carry out its desire. It burns as brightly as it shimmers as it slowly creeps towards him; he has no escape. Even as he staggers to his feet, refusing to be vanquished like a flickering candle amongst the raging bonfires that consume the land. His home.

Power burns at his fingertips, invasive as tendrils of opalescent liquid narrowly miss him, he fumbles for his duel disk, trying to grasp onto the old model, to use it in this dire time but pain lances through his soul, not just his body as electricity sparks in warning, the warmth that crawls across his arm as it's snagged in the invasive force. His arm feels as though it is being stabbed, repeatedly as he can only watch in horror, tugging with all his strength to try and pull away. The light swallows his arm, rushing up to his shoulder as cloth feels like it ignites with the close proximity, he's burning. It’s electricity, he feels like the saliva in his mouth bubbles like foam from the charge as the flaring burning sensation travels across his skin, his very being as his spine arches. It burns, like molten hellfire creeping slowly across the gem duelist’s skin. The energy is seizing. It’s burning right through his trembling frame and expanding in range, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, nails rake the ground below him, and segments of dirt get underneath his nails as he tries to pull himself away. The choked inhale as the light’s claws dig into his flesh, tearing into him as he writhes, choking on his own blood because he’s burning. Gods, he’s burning, someone, anyone, make it stop.

It thrums through his entire being as he screams, the wave of power is intense as he writhes on the ground as the shrieking roar pummels through his mind, throbbing and feeling like his head's been smashed against the ground, the splatter of blood as he tries to breathe through his nose, saliva dripping from his open mouth as he sucks in harsh breathe. His vision is blurred with tears, the land cracks around him as his nerves feel like they'll burst right from the confines of his flesh. His arm drags across the dirt, a futile effort to try and drag himself from the light that now consumes his body, the putrid stench that makes it hard to breathe.

Within the pain, he grasps onto that opalescent hue, yanks at the golden gate that keeps them separated, and his nails dig into the chains; they can't break fast enough as his body writhes. Finally, the golden gate breaks, light pools outwards, and unlike the one that digs into him, stabbing him in the back, this one feels more akin to a gentle hug, like the warmth his mother once gave, the security of her embrace encompassing him slowly but surely. Yet with it comes something else, a wrath like no other, he can't even begin to describe it. There is fire upon his tongue as his plea drags through dimensions itself, his call reaching far beyond his surroundings, his place.

Help me.

The dimensions rupture with her arrival, the light cannot handle her presence as it is overwhelming, the cradle of the goddess as her long tail drags him from The Vile Light. Jaws open wide as colors and light burst forward in hot, violent sparks, rupturing the earth with just her presence and power, bending time and space with her existence and in one fell swoop sending the light crawling back to the depths, to recover, to revitalize itself once more. All while her gaze flickers down to her chosen, reflected in eyes akin to the sun, is a figure sprawled below her, blood splattered like a halo around his figure, sourcing from him as it decorates his figure that trembles with agony.

She gathers him into her jaws before taking to the skies. To seek aid, to bring him to a sanctuary where he may heal, where he can once again become strong enough to walk the lands. She would not lose her chosen again. For now, she will cradle him in the safety of her being, where none will wander, where none will find him. He will be safe. He will be hidden.

So she has decreed.

[chenfordswopez]

weird prompt thing emjay/jemma: 16. "Can't believe you thought this was real."

Emma scoffed, "Can't believe you thought this was real." Jay was just a distraction to move on from the shooting. She would've done it with anybody.

Jay rolled his eyes, trying not to feel hurt. Even though he hooked up with a lot of girls while dating Alex, something about Emma was so...irresistible. But it wasn't like they had some sort of loving connection. Jay Hogart doesn't do love.

But then why did it feel like his heart was breaking into a million pieces?

[bunny-kisser]

💤 for Gus and Rivera

💤 - "sleep well." / carrying them to bed.

I always go on about the early days in their relationship and the toxic aspects, so Gus and Rivera can have some late plot domesticity as a treat <3

Gus’ shoulders dropped in relief as he stepped into the familiar comfort of his home; It had been a long and exhausting day, with his countless duties keeping him occupied much later into the night than he had hoped. The house was lit by soft candle light and Rivera’s presence was immediately made known by the sound of the TV from the living room. Gus wondered if he’d ever grow accustomed to returning to a house that was not silent and dark. These days Rivera’s presence settled comfortably across the home, found in the small trinkets he collected, in his favorite foods in the pantry, and in the way his voice filled the previously silent spaces.

Gus began to call out to Rivera but stopped when he crossed the threshold into the living room, noticing that he was passed out on the couch with some colorful 90’s cartoon blasting on the tv at nearly full volume. Rivera was slumped against the arm of the couch, dark hair falling across his face and a limp arm extended towards a remote on the floor. He appeared to have fallen asleep by accident, presumably while trying to keep himself awake until Gus got home from work. Rivera was incredibly persistent about that - he always wanted to be around to greet Gus when he got home, to be able to waste some idle hours and to say goodnight.

Gus moved into the living room then hesitated, hovering there in front of the couch as he debated whether to wake his partner or not. He knew that Rivera would want to be woken up but he also knew that getting him back to sleep would take ages, and judging by the dark rings under his eyes he needed the sleep. Gus turned off the tv then attended to his nightly routine; By the time he was done he had already decided what to do about Rivera. He gathered blankets and pillows from their bedroom then carefully tucked a pillow beneath Rivera’s head and eased him into a more comfortable position before draping the thick, heavy comforter he liked over his sleeping form. Gus took up position in the nearby chair, making himself as comfortable as possible with a cushioning of pillows and blankets. When Rivera awoke, Gus would be there to greet him.

[studioeisa]

i said i wouldn’t miss you 🎤 jeonghan x reader.

“she ghosted you, jeonghan.” “she doesn’t ghost. she lingers. she haunts.” ⸻ ikaw mula noon anniversary series 🎵 halik (acoustic), kamikazee

word count: 1.3k · includes: romance, angst with a happy ending; situationship struggles, jeonghan yearns/chases, the art of groveling

Jeonghan wakes to the warmth of sunlight, not you.

It pours through the sheer curtains like a promise it doesn’t intend to keep, brushing over the tangled sheets and the still-dented pillow beside him. The morning is too quiet. No soft rustle of you in the kitchen, no off-key humming into the coffee steam. Just the low, steady ache of emptiness blooming in the space where your laughter used to be.

There’s a phantom weight on his chest, the memory of your body curled into his side, the way your leg always slid between his like it belonged there. Like you did.

But the duvet is too light now.

You always kissed him awake. Always. Sometimes on the cheek, sometimes on the corner of his mouth, sometimes right on the nose if you were feeling silly. You’d lean in like a secret and whisper good morning like it meant something. 

And he’d play along, eyes still closed, basking in the softness of it. Of you. Now, there’s nothing.

Just the hollow press of silence and the aftertaste of your accusation echoing in the back of his skull. You’re only good at the start.

He remembers the way your voice broke on the word start, like you already knew this was the end. Remembers the way his fingers had curled into your wrist too tightly, how he had called you delusional, how the words were a smoke screen for the panic clawing up his throat. He remembers the way you let him kiss you anyway. The way you didn’t kiss back.

The bed groans under his weight as he finally sits up, elbows on knees, face in his hands. Your scent lingers in the linen. Sweet and stubborn. Just like you.

The next day, Jeonghan texts you.

First it’s just your name. A tentative hey. Then, an hour later: Can we talk? Followed by a double-send. Please.

You don’t reply.

He calls that night. It goes straight to voicemail. He doesn’t leave one.

He tries again the next day. And the next. Different hours, like maybe your silence has a time zone.

“Still no word?” Seungcheol asks over coffee, brows drawn tight as the foam heart in his latte.

Jeonghan shrugs, half-casual. “She probably dropped her phone in a river. Or joined a cult. You know her.”

“She ghosted you, Jeonghan.”

“She doesn’t ghost. She lingers. She haunts.” He smiles, bitter and small. “She’s probably somewhere rolling her eyes at how dramatic I’m being.”

Seungcheol exhales through his nose, like he’s trying not to say something he’s said too many times before. “You’re not chasing someone who wants to be found,” he says delicately, but Jeonghan isn’t listening. 

Later, he corners Joshua in a stairwell after rehearsal.

“Have you heard from her?”

Joshua blinks. “No. Why would I?”

“You’re nice. She liked that about you.”

“She liked a lot of things about me. Doesn’t mean she told me where she’s hiding.”

Jeonghan leans against the railing, tilts his head back like he might catch your scent on the breeze. “She kissed me before she left. Well—she let me kiss her. Not the same.”

Joshua gives him a look. Kind. Exasperated. “You always think you can charm your way out of heartbreak,” the younger man muses. “Maybe just let yourself be sad this time.”

But Jeonghan isn’t sad, not exactly. He’s something quieter. Hungrier. He scrolls through old photos and wonders how long your scent will stay on his skin. Wonders if kisses have half-lives. Wonders if he kissed you enough times to still feel full.

The days are getting longer, and they’re all missing you. Even now, he finds himself waking with his lips parted. Expectant.

And every time, it’s just the sunlight. And the ache.

After two weeks of radio silence, Jeonghan finds himself outside your apartment with a bouquet that’s too big and an apology that’s probably too late.

The flowers are your favorites. He had to ask three different florists before he found them, clutching his phone like a cheat sheet and mispronouncing the name until someone finally took pity on him. One of the stems bends under its own weight, the petals too open, too eager. Just like him—always blooming at the wrong time.

He’s been standing there for twenty minutes. Maybe more. Long enough for the streetlight to buzz into life, long enough to rehearse every variation of sorry he can stomach, long enough to remember how you used to kiss the inside of his wrist when you thought he was being brave.

He briefly contemplates doing it to himself. A press of his lips to his wrist, just enough to give him courage. 

Jeonghan is old school and drenched in cliché as he throws a pebble at your window. Then another. Then—

The curtain twitches. Your light flicks on. A beat. 

The window creaks open, and there you are, arms crossed in that way that means you’re dangerously close to slamming it shut.

“Seriously?” you ask, and even though you’re annoyed, your voice is still the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. “Rocks, Jeonghan? What century is this?”

He winces and offers the bouquet upward like a white flag. “The romantic one? The desperate one? Whichever one gets me in the door,” he calls out. But soft, what light through yonder breaks, he almost adds. It is the east. You are the sun. Or something. 

You stare down at him. Long enough to make him sweat under his hoodie. Then, sighing like this is a burden you've carried for lifetimes, you buzz him in.

He bolts.

You’re waiting by the door, robe tied like armor. Arms still crossed, expression unimpressed but eyes—he swears—just a little soft.

“I brought—”

“I see the flowers. Talk.”

He swallows hard, fidgets, then sets the bouquet on your table like it might soften what’s coming. “I know you’re tired,” he says finally. “Of the chasing. The mess. Me.”

You say nothing.

“And I know I always show up like this—arms full of promises, too late.”

Still nothing.

“I talk too pretty and follow through too little. I know that.”

You tilt your head to one side. “Keep going,” you mumble, so he does. 

He exhales, long and uneven. His voice drops, all the smugness wrung out of it. “I miss your kisses,” he blurts out, because it’s the most honest thing pressing on his chest.

You blink. Something in your face wavers, just slightly. Jeonghan pushes on, nervous now.

“I miss the one you gave me before I left for rehearsal. I miss the one you didn’t give me the night you left.” The words come spilling out of him like a dam that’s been broken. He can’t stop. “I miss the kiss behind my ear you always pretended didn’t mean anything. I miss how they tasted like forgiveness even when we were still fighting. I miss the sleepy ones. The stubborn ones. The ones you gave me when I least deserved them.”

You stare at him, a war behind your eyes. The silence stretches like a held breath.

“Jeonghan,” you warn, voice low. Almost gentle.

He nods. This is not the first time. It will be the last. He swears. He swears. “I know,” he says. “Just one more shot.”

You lift your hand. He flinches—then softens when you cup his face, thumb brushing just beneath his eye. And then you kiss him. Just once. Long enough to taste the apology on his lips, short enough to make him earn the rest.

When you pull away, your eyes don’t let go.

“If you screw this up again,” you murmur, “I’m calling Seungcheol to help me bury the body. And he’ll bring shovels.”

Jeonghan grins, dizzy with relief. “Fair. But I plan on being too kiss-drunk to screw anything up ever again.”

You roll your eyes. But your robe loosens, and your arms open, and for the first time in what feels like lifetimes, Jeonghan feels like he’s holding the warm sun instead of hiding from it. 🎼

[land-of-sinners]

cute skydow scene for movie 4:

Skye and Shadow are sitting down in a grassy area staring at the stars (why? who cares, they probably just had a sentimental moment). There's wildflowers scattered around and Shadow starts to pick at them, plucking one from its stem and examining it. Suddenly, we get a flashback to him and Maria sitting out in their stargazing spot from the third movie, and Maria picks out a flower and sticks it in Shadow's quills, claiming it "makes him look nicer/pretty". Inspired by this memory, Shadow goes to set the flower he picked into Skye's hair/fur above her ear. Skye looks at him inquisitively, and Shadow repeats the same sentiment Maria gave him, but more bluntly like "you look pretty" or exact verbatim. This causes Skye to be a little flustered, but is able to compose herself pretty quickly and claims they should "find a place to rest for the night".

[lo1k-diamonds]

He does the things he does because he loves you.

This story is absolutely endearing, with a perfect sprinkle of sacrifice, lifelong love, and perfectly timed confessions 💜

By starting the story with the imprinting, the author effectively takes us on a journey with the OC to learn something we have known all along. It doesn't diminish the emotional impact of the story in the slightest because sometimes when people convince themselves enough of something, they start believing it. And we're told so many times that Jimin has rejected her that it's easy to believe that he has pushed all feelings aside.

That's why it's so sweet when he reveals that he hasn't. That he feels just as deeply as OC does; he just can't say it. Because he'd rather spend his life by her side somehow than be kicked out. Don't we all want a wolf bodyguard in the form of Jimin telling us he'll never lose us? 🫠

I like the construction of OC's character - her position within the family, her lack of direction, her search for identity. Perhaps because she's forced to push away everything that connects her to Jimin, everything seems a bit harder and less straightforward than with her siblings. Not to say that her character is defined by her relationship with Jimin (cause I don't think that's the case), but after the events depicted here, I like to believe that she becomes confident and centered. That she fights for who she wants and finds her way through life with Jimin beside her, regardless of others. I like to think of this as the moment that he finally opened his heart and that she found hers.

Safe Haven (M) | PJM

Safe Haven

⟶ Pairing: Park Jimin x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: royalty, smut, 18+ ⟶ Tropes: forbidden love au, medieval royal au, royal king’s guard werewolf!jimin ⟶ WC: 16.2k+ ⟶ Warnings: mild birth scene mention (hardly any details!), mentions of d*ath, brief fighting/attacking descriptions, blood mentions, hair pulling (when attacked), weapons mentioned, poison/venom mention, random side character d*aths, soft pining, kisses, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex, etc ⟶ Beta: Sarah bean! @caelesjjk ⟶ Summary: When a wolf protects the royal family for many years, he’s faced with one special princess who he’ll do anything for. ⟶ Author’s Note: Apart of the “To Love a Monster” collab! I took a long while to get this fic out – and I am sorry for those who have been waiting for it. It may take me months to write and readers minutes to read, but I do hope that this fic holds a special place in someone’s heart in the end! Please enjoy & leave some feedback if you have the time! ⟶ Song Recommendation: Bound to You by Christina Aguilera

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi 

Freshly welcomed into the King’s Guard, Jimin, a sprouting young wolf, rushes around the corridors of the castle to obey the barking orders of his higher-ups. Making haste, all servants and guards make their purpose of assisting the Queen.

“Hurry!” Hoseok, another royal guard and close friend to Jimin, shuffles through the utility room. “Gather more cloth!”

“Aren’t people usually more prepared with things like this?” Jimin frantically follows, his voice rushed with the fast pace movements. 

“I’m afraid not,” Hoseok huffs a laugh.

The two younger royal guards speedily ransack each drawer and closet until their arms are full of materials. They stumble back down the hall towards the birthing chamber. A room enclosed for the parties who participate with the anticipated arrival of the next royal kin. A domestic, darkened room provided with the country's softest furnishings. Royal officials and servants are permitted to be within the room for the delivery to ensure that there are no scandals around the birthing practice.

A midwife places herself before the legs of the Queen. A moan of pain rips from her Highness’s throat. Jimin and Hoseok stand idly as the birthing of child number three crowns at the entrance of the world, preparing to gain its first breath of fresh air. The scene is natural for humans, even more common for a royal to carry out in front of an audience.

For Jimin, he prefers not to stare like the others. His polished amber eyes trail to the lines of the floorboards, using any peripheral view for his advantage.

“It’s a girl!” He hears the cries from a newborn baby, the declaration announced by the midwife who’s wiping off residue from the infant.

Placed on the chest of her mother, the newest child of the royals whines freely. The sound rings through the ears who listen. The King is joyous, regardless of being unable to create a proper heir to his throne. But with the first two daughters – and now third, the royal guards know his Highness will move quickly in trying for a son.

Servants flutter about, handling the delicacies of aftercare for childbirth. Jimin follows after his friend, handing off the pile of cloth to a maiden. Bodies move around another like an assembly line. 

For a moment, and only a moment is needed, did Jimin finally take a swift glance at the newborn who screams her upset. He locks eyes with the infant over the shoulder of Hoseok, seeing a warmth of an everlasting hearth as she cries wet droplets down her face.

Then it happened.

Jimin is struck with something that is indescribable. Something that couldn’t be defined. He’s heard through stories and lores within his lineage that this phenomenon could happen to anyone at any time in one's life. He hears about it through those he’s close to and those who experience it. It’s a once in a lifetime deal.

He can feel the shift of his weight when he locks eyes with the newborn baby. As if this new formed motion represents an outstanding astronomical level. Where his world, which once revolved around the Sun as it does for everyone, now revolves around this small, fragile child.

Jimin’s heartbeat thumps in his ears as the world freezes around him. Hoseok and the other royal wolf guards all sense a change in the wind. If it isn’t Hoseok ushering him out of the way of the other servants and departing out of the chamber, he’s sure the royal family would have done it themselves. 

With his head on a silver platter.

Hoseok’s palm slaps the side of Jimin’s cheek to gain his consciousness from whatever daze he’s fumbled in. It takes him a few good taps before Jimin blinks. His blood runs rampant inside him with warmth and excitement.

The second Jimin looked at the third child of the royal household, everything changed within him. All of a sudden, nothing else matters. The yearning of knowing and willing to do anything, be anything, for her is the only constant demand singing at the back of his head.

“You didn’t,” Hoseok’s hushed tone stays low. “Not a royal!”

“How am I supposed to control that?” Jimin stresses. “I can’t choose who this happens to! I didn’t expect this to happen to me!” He runs a hand through his soft hair, exhaling sharply as his mind begins to race.

“You’re going to learn,” Hoseok claims. His eyes are sharp and narrow. “You will learn to control it. A wolf is not allowed to be mixed with a royal. They’ll kill you.”

His imprint will be kept secret from the royals and the precious baby girl. But for his wolf mates, each of them knows the severity of the situation. Not one member will speak of it, they only can respect it. As for Jimin, he’ll spend the rest of her life – your life – being what you need him to be. A friend, a brother, a protector. Whatever you require of him, he will act accordingly in secrecy while obeying his rightful duties to the royal throne.

White flurries fall slowly from the gray clouds above, decorating the large courtyard, you look down towards the sheet of fresh snow. Most of the garden that blooms the most gorgeous flowers is now a mess of dead plants and weeds. The bare trees stand firm. But those who stand strong in the winter months like hollies with red berries and camellias, continue to stand out next to the beauty of sheared evergreens and deciduous shrubs with colorful stems.

Your eyes are not trained on admiring the bright snow that cascades from the sky so beautifully. Normally you would. As you sit by your glass window with a blanket around your shoulders, you look down from your chambers on the third level of the castle to fancy something different.

Men – some of the royal guards – play around with one another in the cold weather. Some have shifted to their wolven form, others remain in their noble suits. The one you fixate your stare on is your personal guard, Jimin.

He stands leaning against the stone staircase beside a few of his equals. Chatting away about who knows what, watching the others roughhouse. Jimin is quite handsome, he always has been. For as long as you can remember he’s looked the same, minus the fluctuation of hair styles and added tattoos that linger his body and a few added battle scars.

As a guard he wears your family's sigil proudly – a lotus flower – on each of his articles of clothing. Customized into each of the guards’ crested plates of metal armor and sewn into each leather hide. 

Jimin possesses the unfair mix of unlimited masculine and feminine traits, having a soft-looking composure and full lips plus a sharp jawline and toned muscles. His voice is nearly angelic when speaking in hushed tones but also stern as ever when he leads with his strong confidence. He may not be as large as his fellow wolves, but he’s proven himself countless times to your family to have the privilege to be your personal guard. There’s nobody quite like him; no one you’ve met in your life that is.

You commend him in silence, appreciating what you can watch from afar. Even from a distance behind a glass window, he somehow manages to make your heart race. An infatuation some may call it. A yearning. He and your family have been consistent in your life, he’s comfort – as are they. But you knew from a young age, from when you began favoring Jimin’s company over others, that you need to call it ‘nothing’. Because whatever feelings that spin deep inside you are never to be spoken aloud. It’s foolish for your Kingdom, family, and you to long for a wolf who doesn’t see you as anything but a duty.

What’s more disappointing is that you don’t need to admit these infuriating feelings to Jimin, he already knows. He would never allow it to get far by cutting you short and being curt with clipped words and disapproving looks.

He is a wolf and you are a royal. Two beings who have no business intertwining besides with loyalty to the family and the job of a guard. Your acquaintanceship between another is only going to be professional. Perhaps it’s to keep the bloodline pure, untainted. How every sibling of the family is betrothed to a neighboring kingdom, growing the alliance across countries. And not one of them has a blend of wolf’s blood in them. Even though werewolves are evident in the world around you.

“Aren’t you supposed to get ready for the party tonight?” A maid who's making your bed quips up as you're daydreaming down into the evergreen.

“I’ve been stuck on deciding which dress I should wear.”

“No, you’ve been stuck staring out into the courtyard,” she corrects.

You slump in your seat as you stubbornly hold your position by the window. When you look back down, you admire the off-brown and black tones of that particular wolf you fancy. She isn’t wrong, you know. His kind eyes and kind smiles make you feel warmth like no other, and you enjoy seeing them when you gain the chance.

“I can multitask,” you feebly argue. You drag the blanket tighter around your shoulders, keeping in the warmth of your body as much as possible. “Besides, the party isn’t for a few more hours.”

“Princess, you already have guests arriving. Half the guard is at the entrance welcoming the parties who show up early. Let’s not begin to mention how several potential suitors are arriving today. You’ve failed to marry even when betrothed. Such a shame what happened with the Jeon family.”

“I prefer not to be a royal. It doesn’t feel right the way we work,” you sigh as the joyful wolves down below have fun while you’re stuck in your tower with envy. “Can we braid my hair the way we did at my Aunt’s wedding? It cascaded down beautifully.” You speak while staring out of the window, purposely ignoring the heavier topic your maid mentions. “I’ll go with the silver dress. That one that comes with the gorgeous fur shawl.”

You notice the way that Jimin has suddenly turned to look up toward your window, half expecting to see you through the glass. Even in the midst of his comrades, he finds a way to give you an ounce of attention. He shakes his head momentarily, already scolding you without knowing what you’re supposed to be doing. Jimin knows looking for him isn’t on your agenda, you purposely put him there.

“For me to do that,” – you hear the voice of your maid – “I need you to get out of your chair and into your washroom.”

A small frown carves into your face when Jimin circles his finger in the air and directs you to turn around, go back to your business. He knows he’s escorting you tonight at the party, you will see him later. To make his point come across sternly, he disassociates his eye contact – bringing his attention back to his other peers and away from you.

“Princess,” your maid bids you once again.

Reluctant to leave your post at the window, you stand up regardless. You have a long night ahead of you while the castle starts to fill up with guests for your younger brother’s birthday party.

You can’t be bothered with the chattering staff or the nuisance of guests who flutter around the halls of your family’s castle. Each moment you find open to run away, to a quieter place and away from their eyes, you take it. Swiftly moving left and right until you can find your favorite spots to hide since you were a child. 

One of which happens to be past the hallway of family portraits. If you travel far enough you find yourself at a dead end. With cabinets, paintings, and curtains outlining every inch of the stone walls. Torches are lit to illuminate the surrounding areas, bringing light to the beautiful surroundings.

But little do most know, that behind painting number two – the one in the golden frame with green shrubbery and a little boy playing the flute – lies a secret behind it. You just need to get here without anyone seeing you sneak in. There’s no point in a secret hideout if you accidentally show it to other guests.

You wait for the time, seeing when that end of the hall becomes vacant and people rush toward the call of the buffet lines. The small talk you make with a few distant relatives is only an act, pretending to walk along with them but slipping away when you find your moment to.

Pressing lightly, the nook of a room behind the large painting greets you. It’s closet sized, filled with a few pieces of your past and littered in dust from lack of touch. Tarps are draped over unused furniture; you’re thankful that this hideout is never really used. The painting that acts as a door allows you a small peeping eyehole to look out and judge when you can come out.

The silver dress you picked for tonight's gathering is a smart choice for you; you’re able to sit down comfortably without restriction. You love the look of a free-flowing gown, falling nicely with the way you walk. Patting off a layer of dust from a chair, you’re able to seat yourself as you take an old notebook in your hand.

Small doodles linger on the pages, all drawn by your younger self. You remember each of them, no matter how terrible they may look. It’s how you pass time while hiding in here. The low lighting from the cracks of the portrait gives you most of your light source, and occasionally you will add flame to the candle that rests on the top of the desk beside you.

You scowl at the dried black ink next to the quill pen, the feather beaten up and torn. It’s been years since you’ve last touched it. Maybe browsing through all the pages of your books won’t be so bad as you loiter in your small den.

“Princess Y/n.”

A spark of panic zaps through you like lightning in the sky on a stormy day. Surprised by the voice of none other than Jimin, your personal royal guard. You watch as fingers curl around the edge of the portrait-door and a beautiful, yet stern, face peeks through. His amber eyes catch you as they squint at your mischievous behavior. 

“I knew you would be hiding somewhere.” He comments as he pushes himself through the opening and into the room. Jimin wears the guards festive wear, a beautiful pink etched coat with cream leather hide armor. He’s sure to close the door behind him; he’s more stealthy than you can ever be. “Are you upset?”

“No,” you turn your head back to the book in your hands. The weight of his gaze on you is nearly suffocating. “I simply wanted solitude.”

“You know you are to be returned. They’re calling upon your brother shortly for his ceremony. It’s a big event for him,” his tone is low but he maintains a soft tenor to it. Jimin is far too kind toward you even though he’s meant to be a guard and nothing more. His exterior has toughened over the years, as it should to fill his part. Although, the sweeter half of him sticks out to you and perhaps that’s what you’ve held onto all these years.

“Sadly, I know.” You shut your eyes and sigh heavily, “I’m not quite in the celebratory mood. I would much prefer to be in my chambers.”

“That’s selfish of you.” Jimin’s hand comes to take away your book, placing it on the desk where it belongs. He bends down to level his face with yours. “You should be happy for your brother, he’s of age to carry out duties now. To be what he needs to be. Something you should understand.”

You hear the underlying hint Jimin gives you. He’s softly scolding you, as usual. 

At first you say nothing in response. Downcasting your eyes to your empty hands as you think what can be said to counter him, but you draw nothing.

You’re the third child in the family of four. A role where you feel invisible and forgotten. Always having second bests and hand-me-downs. Once your brother, who is a few years younger than you, sprouted from the womb of your mother – all chances of your favor flew out the window. As a male in this royal world is keen, any daughter is denied the spotlight. But you never craved a place to rule, or to do what a princess must do. Your oldest sister, the most responsible one of all, desires that for herself. You see it in the way she presents herself. Aces every test and diplomacy role she is given.

The second oldest is the fairest, she didn't need to do much to gain the popularity or attention she is given. It comes so unfairly natural to her thanks to the outstanding looks she’s been blessed with. A privilege only few and far between are given. Life for her is as simple as breathing, all she needs to do is point and ask.

Your younger brother is everything that your father waited for. Of course, your father, the King, treats all his children with love and passion. Keeps you sheltered, fed, and protected. However, the moment he received a bouncing baby boy – that tears any favoritism away from you or your sisters. A male has an unfair advantage in the royal family, it’s just how the world is.

“Princess –”

“– I know,” you unwillingly stand up from your chair. Jimin straightens himself as well, taken aback by your swift movement. “I want to retire after his ceremony,” you say curtly.

You take a single step toward the door as your hand reaches out to push against it, Jimin’s hand  grabs your wrist gently, like catching a delicate rose. Softly, he lowers your arm down as he steps before you with a concerned look on his face. His eyes search for signs of distress on your face.

“You’re upset,” he affirms.

“Nothing works in my favor,” you address with a choleric tone. Anger isn’t something you want resting on the surface, but it’s leaking out of the seams of your composure. “Sometimes, I truly despise being a royal daughter.”

You stare at the digits wrapped around your wrist, noticing how Jimin hasn’t let go of you yet. It feels cruel how you wish there was more meaning to the contact. Why can’t he hold you the way you long for him to?

Your eyes meet his with confusion and sadness. The pretty amber color still stands out in the low lighting, they’re beautiful to stare at. But you can’t read what’s going on in his mind. 

Jimin feels your sadness. He is connected to you deeply, little do you know. You can never know. It’s safer this way. Slowly, he releases your wrist letting his fingertips be the last thing that brushes against your skin. He can only comfort you so much without overstepping his boundaries. If he capsizes every time you give him those hopeless eyes, he’ll lose his placement in the guard and lose you indefinitely.

“Please,” he breathes, “We must go.”

Jimin pushes the hatch open steadily, peering out through the eyehole to make sure the coast is clear to sneak back into the festivities. He leaves space between the two of you as you walk side-by-side.

Silent tension surrounds you as your heels click with every step you take. There’s a dullness in your eyes, a lack of enthusiasm the closer you approach the center of the party. The amount of people here drains you even as you wear a kind smile.

Your little brother’s coronation will go quickly, you hope. Jimin’s words resound in your head, causing you to reflect on what he said.

“That’s selfish of you.”

You make your way to your designated chair at the family table quietly. The talks and commotions between the castle’s guests, family from far and wide, don’t phase you as you blur out the noise. The red liquid poured graciously in a chalice beside you becomes your saving grace; your delicate fingers grasp the cup and run over the smooth jewels embedded on the sides.

Your eyes find Jimin’s across the crowded room as he stands on guard near one of the walls. His hand rests over the handle of his sword casually, a weapon they choose first before shifting as a last resort. He can read the longing in your eyes with a mix of desperation and gloom. 

You wait to see his expected disapproving look. The one that tells you to pay attention to something else other than him – but you don’t. He stuns you confused as, instead of his typical stern look, he looks down at the ground. Deep in thought.

Are you truly selfish when nobody around you is selfless?

Your chamber is a sanctuary. Filled with all the necessities you need to live like royalty. An abundant amount of candles have been lit to brighten the room, giving it a soft aura. 

You wear your hair down, untied from the tight braids you wore for the majority of the night. Your nightgown, cream in color and silk to the touch, is loose in all the right places. The ceremony took its time as you waited to retire for the night with the little patience you have left. You’re positive plenty of men are still celebrating at their feast. 

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

A loud thud shakes the doors to your room, a verbal grunt can be heard. You look over at your maid who does the same as she slowly walks toward the noise. There's a scurry of traffic beyond your door as the two of you try to make out the words that are being shouted. You take a step with her, but with that single step you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye. Through the window you see a flash of red light. Smoke rises as pieces of the garden have been lit to flame. Upon closer inspection, you peer down your window into the once beautiful scenery to find brawls of fights. Men fighting enemies with swords, crossbows and guns.

Another thump hits the outside of your chamber’s doors and you twist your head to see your maid inches away from the handle, ready to pull.

“Don’t!” You turn frantic to shout at her.

But it is too late. Your maid already has her hand twisting the handle to pull the door open. But a force pressed the door faster than she anticipated – a body of a man standing guard slumped against the doorframe and now falling to the floor. A wound across his neck as blood smears across your family’s sigil on his leather chest plate.

Both you and your maid screech at the sight as you back away from the door. You can hear the commotion louder now as bodies rush past the halls as they run away from the intruders.

“Hide!” Your maid shoos you quickly and frantically while her first attempt of shutting your chamber’s door fails.

You’re not given a moment to think before you watch as two ruffians walk up to the door, one holding a flamed torch and a hand dagger as the other holds a handgun. They’re dirty from appearance, wearing torn up clothes but come armed with weapons that look like they belong to someone wealthy. They smile evilly, curling their lips at the sight of you as they advance on your maid.

“There’s a royal,” one comments in a ghoulish tone. They step over the body below them like it’s a fallen tree trunk. They laugh among each other, giggling at whatever is playing on in their minds. You definitely do not wish to know.

Your maid twists away, hoisting her skirt up high enough to let her legs lounge as she begins to run toward you. It provokes one of the men, making him chase her immediately as he finds it funny to stalk her. Threaten her with the slices he mimics with his dagger in the air.

Slowly, your feet have backed up along the path of your room. You make sure you keep as much furniture between you and the intruders. Your eyes remain open wide, trying so hard not to blink and miss any sudden movements.

You feel small compared to the man’s stature as he creeps closer and closer to you. Hectically, your hands reach around the tops of dressers and tables to find anything to use as a weapon. A letter opener? A pen? Anything to defend yourself from whoever these men are who impose your safe space.

More screams and shouts can be heard throughout the castle halls and outside. The place is being run down with bandits, unknown persons who you cannot identify from first glance. They wear close to all black attire, worn down from several years. Protected by pads and suitable armor, as if they collected stolen pieces and placed them together.

You hold your arms closer to your body with the heat of the males heavy gaze on you. His eyes look bloodshot as he studies your options of escape.

“Come here little royal,” he sneers while his beaten up boots scuff across the floor.

Your maid is chased across the wall, quickly making her way toward you as the other man follows her like a hunter. Herding his prey together before they set to kill.

They rush the two of you, forcing you to nearly trip over your own feet as your gown betrays you while you step on the very end of it. A small rip of fabric resounds but you’re in too much of a haste to notice from where.

Your maid screams in horror as you yell out for help. Your bodies fumble across the expanse of your chamber’s, trying to find the opportunity to rush out of the door if you can. To escape the men who run after you.

Where are the rest of your guards? What is happening and why are your werewolf guards not attacking? Who are these men and what do they have to attack the castle with? In all your years on this planet, you’ve never been caught in a situation like this. No intruder has ever made it past the front gates until now.

A knife is thrown in your direction, missing you but landing straight into the wall beside your head.

“Oops, guess I need to try that again,” you hear the male speak with malicious intent.

The other has gained enough momentum to grab your maid, pull her in as she struggles to fight him off. He’s rough, holding her arms as he pushes her against the wall. You're already rushing to her side, using your fists to hit the man on his arm and back.

“Get off of her!” you bawl, throwing your fist at him as fast as possible.

A hand grips your hair, yanking you back away from the two and onto the closest table. Your back hits the surface hard as the man presses you down. He threatens you with a dagger pointed at your face as his other hand holds you down by your shoulder.

The brute force immediately makes your eyes water as you stare up at the man in fear. You wrap your hands around his wrists to push him off, holding him off for as long as you can. Your kicks and screams do nothing to phase him, only fuels him.

You feel his hand slide to your throat; latch his ugly, dirty fingers around your neck. It’s brief, like a flash of lightning. But just as soon as he repositions himself, an arrow shoots straight into his head. Visibly shaken, you struggle to process the vicious man above you losing the life he has.

Your efforts of pushing begin to work as his lack of strength weakens by the second. A final push, not made by you – but from your personal guard, Jimin, knocks the man entirely off of you. He’s quick, already primed and prepped to shoot the other ruffian the second he turns away from your maid and to see his comrade passed out on the floor. Jimin launches another arrow with a flick of his finger, a perfect shot.

Both ruthless and merciless men seem to be dead, fallen to the floor of your chamber’s as pools of blood leak from their bodies.

You and your maid tremble in fear and anxiety. Frightened at the series of events and how the two of you were nearly brutally attacked.

Jimin wears streaks of blood across his face as his hair falls out of place. His beautifully tailored festive armor is now beaten and destroyed with stains. You look at him with confusion and anguish as reality sets in.

“Jimin,” you cry out in a broken sob. Your throat tightens and feels as if it’s being pricked by a dozen thorns while your hand runs up to touch the area where the man laid his fingers on.

“I’m sorry,” are the first words out of his mouth. Solemn and saddened. But he’s relieved to be here for you, even if he is cutting it short and close to being a second too late. 

It isn’t his fault the castle has been blindsided and an evil group has snuck their way inside its walls and started a reign of terror. But he takes blame for not being at your side every second that he should have been. Instead, he rushed to the frontlines once called upon. Tried to stop the invasion from penetrating deeper into the castle. 

In most cases this strategy works, but unfortunately tonight – it doesn’t.

But as the fighting continues and larger groups of people begin rushing in from all areas of the castle – equipped with tainted metals containing mountain ash and wolfsbane – the royal guards are not as prepared. A minor setback, yet it almost costs your life.

“I came as soon as I could,” he steps closer to you with sympathetic eyes. He’s hurt, more worried about how you are as he feels your dread and fear. “I’m so sorry.”

There’s still many battles being fought throughout the castle. People being slayed as guards protect as much as they can. Jimin helps you stand straight, holding you close to him as he’s escorting both your maid and you out of your chamber’s.

“Jimin,” you repeat as you hold onto him, wrapping your hands desperately around him. “Who are they?”

He brings the two of you deeper into your chamber, rushing you to a secret doorway that leads to a hidden passage. Your castle is littered with these; most guards know several entrances but not a lot of exits. It’s a maze down there; dark, cold, and gloomy as well. As a child, you would wander through some just to see how far you could reach without cowering out.

“They must be from the South. They’re fighting with wolfsbane. Their weapons are laced with it.”

It’s common knowledge that wolfsbane is rare near these grounds. It’s ordinary for them to grow down South, but they can be imported. Your family is known for being guarded by werewolves; so an attack like this must be heavily planned.

“Remember the passageways?” Jimin grunts as he pushes both you and your maid toward a panel against the wall. It’s colored like an archway, but the third one can be open with a twist of a lever. Specifically the sconce hanging to the left of it. “I need you to escape through them.”

You hear the falter in Jimin’s voice momentarily, how he sounds like he staggered his breath.

“Are you hurt?” You ask alarmingly. Your eyes frantically scan over his exterior, looking for any noticeable signs of a wound.

“Princess, I need you to go through the passageways,” he turns the lighting fixture swiftly. The secret door clicks open, a cool gust of air puffs through and hits against your skin. “Don’t worry about me. I need to protect you and the rest of your family.”

Your maid understands, already stepping through as she’s pulling you with her. Jimn is a guard, he needs to go and maintain his duty. Your maid is a servant – she is here to assist you until she can no longer. She begs you to step quickly, down the stone stairs into the pit of the passages.

“Jimin, no!” You grip tighter on his forearm as he tries to shrug you off of him. Blood tarnishes your cream colored nightgown as you’re pulled away from Jimin. It must be from those Jimin has fought already. “Come with me!”

Jimin takes your chin in his hand and inspects the distress on your face. Even when rushed, worried about your safety and life, he looks at you like he’s lost in your eyes. The gentle touch of his fingertips feels serene, featherlight even though they’re calloused through the years of combat. 

He’s moving you back into the passageway, gripping the door with his other hand to shut it on you when the moment comes. There’s displeasure spilling out of him only because he is infuriated by the way you stubbornly won’t see the concern for yourself.

“I need to protect the family. This is me protecting you,” he speaks sternly. “Please listen to me, princess,” he exhales slowly. His eyes flicker across your features with tenderness, “I am not losing you. Use the passageways,” he reminds you. “Exit at the stables. I will meet you there. You know which way to go?”

You stare at him dumbfounded at first. Like time is slowing down, but you cannot shake the feeling that you won’t see him again. You don’t feel convinced.

“B-But –”

“Go!” Jimin practically growls out his demand to you. In an instant, his amber eyes shine with a blue ring around his irises. It’s the first time Jimin has ever used that timbre with you, making you jolt away with shock. 

He warns you to watch your step and stay on the correct path toward the stables. Keep close to your maid and stay quiet. He rips off his cavalier shoulder cape, draping it around your shoulders to keep you warm as you descend into the chilly pathways. Jimin closes the door promptly, forcing you to turn with your maid and to escape to safety. Your heart ricochettes inside your chest, pounding erratically as you rush.

Throughout the narrow hallways, dripping with leaking water spouts and cobwebs, you hear the signs of savage wolf growls and barks as your royal guard begin shifting as their last resort. Cries of pain and fighting scare you further as you follow the lead of your maid, wondering how you’ll survive what comes ahead. The thin slippers still on your feet dampen with every hurried step you take as you hold Jimin’s cape tighter against your frame to stay as warm as possible.

“I am not losing you,” replays inside your head and inside your heart.

Moonlight shines from above as your maid cracks open a hardened rock exitway. You came across many forks in the maze of the castle's passageways, but you remember from your past the correct ways to take. The two of you are at the stables, you can smell the mixture of horse and hay in the air. The area is unhit from the onslaught of violence for now.

“Shall we take a horse?” Your maid suggests as she creeps behind a bundle of stacked hay.

“Jimin said he’ll meet us here,” you remind her. 

The chill of the outside runs straight through your body. You curse to yourself at your poor choice of attire.

Together, the two of you watch the distance of all the violence. You see bloodshed with many reinforcements coming from every side of the castle. The thought of Jimin being caught in this mess sends a shiver down your spine. Wolves – your family's guards – have shifted to their creature form. They’re larger than any wild wolf; standing on all four limbs taller than most humans. 

They’re very swift at responding to the attackers, taking them out one by one. But you know the attackers are fighting against them with poisonous tactics – an advantage to go against such beasts. With these weapons, the werewolves near invulnerability, speed, and strengths are weakened once hit with the toxins. You can already witness it with a few of your guards.

“We’re still inside the castle walls, Princess. We need to get out of here fast,” she insists. Her eyes scan around for an opening, an escape route for the two of you. You’ll have to be fast.

“He knows we are here!” You yell at her in a hushed tone. “I’m not leaving unless it’s with –”

Just as you attempt to finish your sentence, the loud sound of wood snapping through the entrance door interrupts you. Men rush in, manically screaming in an uproar as the flames of their torches begin touching the fodder in the stables. Setting the straw ablaze in a matter of seconds.

You and your maid slouch back into a corner, away from view for as long as you can. Horses neigh with anger, jumping and kicking as the brightness and heat of fire creeps toward them. You cannot fathom the thought of losing these beautiful warhorses as they’re each tied to their own box.

“Release them,” you whisper to your maid before you frantically get up from your position and reach for the first horse.

Your soft hands flick up the lever to the wooden door, opening it up for the horse to run through and stumble toward the exit of the stables.

The maid begs you to stay hidden, but you refuse with stubbornness. In the same breath, you hear a shriek from her as you are in the midst of lifting another lever. The attackers have noticed her and shortly spot you as well.

She looks at you with panic, “Run!”

In seconds, she is being grabbed once again by these aggressors. Forced down with a hard shove as she hits the ground. You shout, scream, and cry at the men who flock over toward her. A pitchfork near you is the first thing you see to use as a weapon. Surely you can scare someone off with the points of the tines. 

A bellowful growl grows from a stampede of three wolves bursting onto the scene. They’re far too fast for your eyes to keep up, seeing flashes of their fur dashing around you to strike your attackers. Their teeth bare as they snarl and bite into the flesh of the men, claws digging through the fabrics and skin.

One wolf is nearly all black, slicked fur making it shine in the night. Another has a warm russet color, speckled with hues of beige but warm under the ember of the fires around you. The last wolf is your wolf – you know him far too well. Brighter shades of light brown are in his face as the rest of his pelt darkens into a deep dark, chocolate color. His amber eyes, now sparked with blue, casts over to you briefly as he takes out an enemy, his paw stepping hard against his chest and pressing down.

It’s like whiplash with how fast the royal guards cleared out the stables as the fire consumes the fixtures around you. Smoke fills the air, rising heavily as thick clouds form. Pieces of the loft areas begin to break and fall as the other roped up horses huff and puff.

The stark black wolf is the one lifting your maid off the ground as it nudges her. She’s wounded, you can tell as red covers the fabric of her left arm. You take a step toward her, wanting to console and help – but in return you are barked at by Jimin. He rushes toward you, his speed frightening you as you backpedal away from the area. He stares hard at you, growling in a low tone as ashes fall behind him.

He’s moving you away, wanting you out of the area. The other two wolves bark in his direction, some form of communication you cannot understand as Jimin glances back and responds with his own call. 

The russet colored wolf jumps toward Jimin as you watch your maid latch onto the black fur of the other. She gives you a sympathetic look, mouthing the words ‘get out of here’ to you.

A large beam from above falls and crashes in the middle of the stables, breaking other fixtures in its path. Ember’s rise from the burning building with a massive gust of wind as you turn your face away from the crash.

“Jimin!” You cough as your arms shield you. Your eyes tickle in pain from the smoke, the fire’s brightness doesn’t help either.

You can feel the brush of fur against you as a heavy body presses into your front. You smell the wilderness immediately as you fall forward, burying your face and arms into Jimin’s coat. He nudges you with his shoulder and a grunt. Somehow able to understand what he’s saying.

Quickly, you pull yourself up along his back like one would do for a horse. Your face remains embedded into his fur as you wrap your arms around his neck, hooking your fists onto his coat to anchor yourself.

You move with the russet colored wolf as he clears out the path ahead of you and Jimin. Taking down any attacker standing in the path to escape. It’s difficult to hold onto a wolf, feeling your limbs tighten around Jimin as hard as you possibly can just to stay on top as he dashes through the terrain.

His goal is to get you out of here safely, remove you from the premises. He brings you farther and farther away from the castle and closer to the woods. The last glimpse you dare to make shows you the image of the russet wolf turning back toward the scorched castle grounds.

You pray for the good safety of everyone. Hope the castle is still together after the royal guard protects and saves the night.

It’s freezing as Jimin runs through the thicket of the wilderness, deeper than you ever dare to go alone. You keep your head down, pressed into his back as bitter cold breezes over the surfaces of your body that aren't protected by Jimin’s warmth. The nightgown you wear is thin, not topped with layers among layers of fabrics and wiring like a corseted dress would have. Not to mention the tingling burn to your bare feet as the winter air touches them. But he is warm. A heated beast beneath you, emitting a comforting temperature the more your fingers curl into the roots of his bristle fur.

His breath is labored, chest heaving as his limbs carry you fast. Jimin zips through the rough terrain of the earthy woods, jumping and dodging the obstacles in his way. You fear the tightness of your muscles as you cling on to him, feeling the exhaust of your body as they sore.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been a passenger on Jimin’s back. Everything has happened so quickly. It isn’t until you hear the noises of strangers. The padding of snow under Jimin’s paws begins sounding different. Now stepping on hardened ground.

Your eyes blink open as you take in the surroundings passing by. Glowing lights in tapered windows of wooden cabins flash in seconds. Secured doors and moss growth along the sides of several cabin-like housings. 

Jimin leads with a howl, rushing toward the only place he knows will keep you the most protected. He slows his pace as he draws near, beckoning with a warning call for the door to swing open and allow him in. You find yourself entering with him, a soft warmth from a low burning fireplace greets you as the two of you enter.

You feel the way Jimin stumbles, his body catching up with how taxed he must be. The way his shoulders shrug tells you to dismount him as his mouth pants labored breaths. Carefully, you slide until your toes touch the floor below you.

“Jimin?” Your first concern comes out worriedly. Your hands still roam his fur as you notice the warmth of red liquid staining your palms – even pieces of your clothes. It’s enough to make you feel uneasy about the open wounds you fail to find through his pelt.

He’s quick to move from you, tripping over himself as he walks deeper toward the back of the cabin. A low growl rumbles from his chest as a warning, unwanted contact from you.

You take a step to follow him, seeing how hurt he is – it only wrenches your heart tighter. Your eyes grow wider the further he steps away from you, scurrying himself as he barks in the air for help.

A soft pair of hands hold onto your elbow, keeping you from the beast in pain. You snap your head toward the contact, searching for the reason why you’ve been halted.

“Don’t.” A woman with dark, long wavy hair speaks in a low tone. Her skin is aged but glows beautifully. Bundled up in layered clothes, she wears a worried look just like you. But it’s because she is stressed about your concern over the wolf in agony. “He will be alright.”

The door behind her has already been shut tight as the woman urges you to sit on the closest couch. Your eyes flick back to Jimin who continues to pad down the end of the hallway, twisting into a new shape as his body slowly transforms back into a human state. It’s an image you never expected to see, completely magical and out of this world as you catch glimpses of a wolf morphing into man.

His deep groans turn more audible as his real voice is able to break free.

“Wolfsbane –” he curses out into the open as he’s hunched over. He breathes heavily, open mouth catching air for his lungs as his fingers now claw at the bloody abrasion on the left side of his chest.

From your spot on the sofa, you witness Jimin suffering in a fetal position with no clothes. He’s turned to the side, hiding what he can in his vulnerable state. His long hair, usually kept neatly pulled back, falls dramatically across his face. His nose scrunches as his lips pull back to show his seething teeth.

“Jimin!” You begin to stand up, but the woman holds her hands out before you.

“Stay, Princess! Please!” Her voice is soft.

She tries her best to be respectful, honoring your title even in the severity of a situation. “I’m his mother.” She claims before gripping a knitted wool blanket off the back of a chair and rushing over to her son.

You blink, stunned as you process all the movements and information playing out in front of you.

Jimin coughs as his head presses into the floor. You watch in horror the way Jimin’s body rejects the burn of the wolfsbane that entered his system. Jerking and moving in his place as some mystical natured element helps overcome his pain. Jimin’s mother places the blanket over Jimin, shielding him from your innocent eyes. She squats beside him, hand placing over his forehead as his face twists with strain.

“Fight it,” she encourages as she pushes back his bangs to inspect his eyes. They’re reddened on the edges. The infection attacks deeply within him. His blue shiny irises that come out when he taps into his wolf form is stationary, shining brightly as he internally battles the poisonous herb. “Push it out, you can do it.”

You catch him staring at you as he overcomes this annoyance. It’s not enough to be deadly for him, but it is a good amount to weaken his overall state for the time being. His body fights to heal properly, but he’ll be ready soon.

The first initial wave of pain eases on Jimin. You don’t notice it due to the blanket covering his body, but a small pool of tainted blood leaks out of his wound. Spoiled by the wretched poison. It’s what his body needs to do, reject it and remove it entirely from him.

“Can I help in any way?” You stand and step toward him as his panting calms.

“No, no!” Jimin’s mother’s hands shoot out, shooing you. “You don’t need to do anything! His body is healing,” she reassures. “It may not make any sense, but he is going to be good. Just give him some time. Wolves have an accelerated healing power.”

“But –” you begin to counter. You feel helpless, powerless. Your heart hurts from seeing Jimin in such a distraught state. You can’t shake the image out of your head.

“Stop,” you hear Jimin breathing out. His tenor voice aching as his body shivers. “Stay over there,” he begs. “Just give me a second, Princess.”

All you can do is wait. Watch the way the man you care for struggles with himself as his supernatural body convulses and kicks out the vicious wolfsbane as he rapidly recovers. His grunts and groans do nothing to help, making you worry even more. 

When Jimin finally settles, he lays limp on the floor. Relief washes over him as the surging pain seizes and his body begins to feel like normal once again. Sweat has slickened the roots of his hair, surely the rest of his skin expelled other toxins.

He starts to lift himself off the floor, using his arms to push him up to a sitting position first – then enough to stand. He clutches the blanket around him. Holding it tight around his waist and covering his lower region.

“Take your time,” his mother whispers. She, too, stands with him. Using her hands to help guide him if he wavers on his feet. He’s taller than her, but you can tell she’s strong from the way she helps hold her son up.

“I have to go back,” he says to her, but stares at you.

Jimin takes a few tentative steps until he catches the motion easilier. He walks over to you in concern, abandoning the dripped blood on the floorboard from where he once laid. You're shivering in place, not realizing it yourself.

“Mom, would you mind finding something the princess can change into? Clean her up a little as well?”

You waste no time rushing yourself to him regardless of Jimin pleading for you not to. That doesn’t stop the way your arms wrap around his torso, feeling the warmth of his smooth skin as you hold him. Your head curls into his shoulder as his free arm surrounds your back, pulling you against him.

“Please, be good. Back up,” he slowly walks you in his embrace. 

You feel the rumble of his voice through his chest as you press desperately against him, not wanting to let him go just yet. He’s homely like your favorite hiding place back in the castle or the comfort of your bed after a long day of duties. It feels right to be with him as your mind speaks these words of nonsense.

“Don’t leave again,” you beg as your heartstrings twinge with sadness. You think latching onto Jimin even more would be the answer of his choice, but alas it is not. His arm is placing you down on the sofa for you to sit as he kneels on the floor. Even when you try grabbing at him, he politely pushes your hands away.

“Mom,” Jimin calls out as his hands grip the bottoms of your bare feet. He runs his palms across them, feeling how frigid they’ve become. Jimin ignores the way your cold hands try to turn his head to look up at you, stubbornly keeping it down and focused on your toes. When he fails to hear a response, he shouts again, “Mom!”

“Jimin!” You call to get his attention, fingers running through his thick locks to expose his face. Cupping his cheeks doesn’t suffice either, even your attempt to tilt his jaw fails. He isn’t budging from his position.

His mother comes out of another room with an abundant amount of clothes. Each of them look heavy, thick. Enough to hopefully keep you bundled up in the chill of a winter’s night.

Jimin squeezes your feet with his hands, trying to circulate more blood flow as he tries to warm you. He suffers knowing you’re freezing, not in an ideal state. But he can also feel the way your heart pangs with confusion and hurt. He can smell the fear radiating off of your body as you process so much.

“Would you mind changing into these?” His mother comes into your view. She begins placing pieces out in order to dress. Layers ready at your will. “I can wash your nightgown. Rid you of those stains. I can try patching up the tears in your skirt.”

The doleful look in your eyes tells her enough at one glance. She sighs as a tear trickles down the bridge of your nose.

“Why won’t you look at me?” Your voice cracks mid sentence as you stare helplessly at Jimin.

It’s languid the way his eyes flick up to you, shrouded with sadness behind his lashes.

“You’re freezing,” he states.

“I’m more hurt that you won’t let me do anything for you,” you respond with irritation. “I’m fine. You’re not.” You gesture to his exposed chest, muddied with swipes of blood on his left side.

“There’s nothing there anymore. The wound is sealed already. It’s just drying blood.”

He looks down back at your feet, finally noticing his stained hands – how he’s holding you with his own filth. The thought upsets him entirely.

Abruptly, Jimin stands. Turning away from you and rushing over to the fireplace to place more wood in the burning embers. He tightens the blanket around his waist, pacing across the floor of the cabin for anything he thinks you need before he departs.

“Run a bath,” he tells his mother. “It’ll warm her up faster. Then she can change into the clean clothes.”

“I don’t want that,” you speak. “I’ll take the clothes as they are. But Jimin –”

“– I need to go back,” he whips around in his spot. Jimin is fast on his feet, gathering some more blankets and gripping your hand. “My old room is just over here. Make yourself at home. I know this isn’t ideal but it will keep you safe and warm. My mother,” Jimin glances over at her, “She’ll be a great help. Please, take care of the Princess before I return.”

You rip your hand away from Jimin while stubbornly holding your place on the couch. It’s an act you never suspected yourself to do so harshly. The appalled look on your face puzzles Jimin. Makes him look down at you in silence, awaiting for you to speak.

“No,” you stare back. “Why can’t you just stay?”

“I have a duty,” he responds just as fast. “One to serve the royal family.”

“I am the royal family!”

“I am a part of the entire pack fighting for the kingdom right now. I must be with them.”

The frustration causes your blood to boil under your skin. Heat rises to your cheeks as anger takes over. He’s staring you down. Jimin is right after all. But yet again, without him even speaking, you can hear his voice repeat the words ‘that’s selfish of you’. It rattles inside your head as your lips quiver with emotion.

You turn your head, eyes filled with sorrow dropping to your lap. The scolding fire from his bright eyes hurts you deeply. Yet he doesn’t have intentions to upset you, Jimin only wants to protect you.

“Go.”

The single word comes out so cold, so unlike your usual tone. It catches Jimin off guard.

The entire time Jimin’s mother stands in silence, trying to read the room herself as the two of you cast a tense environment. She has no place to utter a single word, not here. For a moment, she shares a cautious glance with her son. Something in her eyes that tells him that he needs to do something – say something.

“Prin –”

“– I do not want to see you.” Your voice sounds meek, on edge of falling over in the pool of emotion laying inside of you. If only he can understand how important you’ve made him in your life. How special he is and the comfort that comes with him when he’s around. Imagining him returning beaten up again bothers you. Thinking he might not come back at all is even worse.

“Just, go.” You command.

“Y/n,” Jimin speaks in a gentle voice. He steps closer to you with a heavy heart, “I’m sorry.” Slowly, he leans down to level his head with yours. It’s alright with him that you refuse to look back. Jimin knows he has your attention regardless. You feel the soft graze of his knuckle run along the edge of your jaw, surprised from the tender touch. “I really am sorry,” he smiles faintly as he leans in just enough to place his plump lips delicately on your temple.

Jimin leaves your side, turns on his heel and swiftly moves out the front door. It’s a rush from the way his body forms back into wolf and his paws press into the ground, carrying him further away from you. He wants to be here for you, but his loyalty lies deep to the guards and your family. Jimin knows you are safe, under the protection of his mother and the community surrounding the cabin. He would never just leave you.

A gust of wind blows in from outside, the chill reminding you how low the temperatures are. Jimin’s mother kindly shuts and locks the door. Silence stills softly in the ambiance of the crackling fireplace.

It breaks you knowing Jimin isn’t staying by your side. The rational side of your brain screams at you, telling you he is doing the right thing. But the emotional soft boundaries you have, that are more tender than a baby bird, weakens the further Jimin is. Like a piece of your heart constantly stripping from you. Cracking and bleeding from unreciprocated love.

The gentle face of Jimin’s mother approaches you, her soft hand places it upon your shoulder to gain your attention.

“Princess,” she begins with a kind tone. “Please know, we’ll do anything to protect you. You’re in a safe place now. My name is Mira. Let’s have you change into something warmer. I can make some tea as well.”

Her words do not stop the slow streams of tears dripping from your face. You wipe away each of them the moment they pass the curve of your cheeks, frustration and heartbreak laying deep within you.

When will he come back, you begin to wonder. Will he come back? Flashes of the ruffians and ruthlessness they project remind you how dangerous they are. What damages have they done with your family's castle? To your precious belongings?

And then it reminds you… You haven’t thought about your family. Your father and siblings, are they safe and sound? Are they escorted off the property by the guards as they clean up the mess of the intruders? How selfish of you, truly, to only think of yourself and Jimin.

Your realization serves you like the small piece of bread and tea served to you on a platter from Mira. It makes you cry more about how childish and foolish your mind is.

“He does love you,” Mira speaks again. Her eyes crinkle with wrinkles as she smiles. “He does the things he does because he loves you.”

Jimin yearns to return to your side the moment his feet step out of his childhood home. He rushes back to the castle grounds, reconnecting with the king's royal guard and abolishing any trespasser standing in his way. He fought for hours with righteousness and duty, tearing apart men limb from limb as he dodges the poisonous silver weapons laced with a venomous herb. When the time comes that the invasion of hoodlums either retreat or have been eliminated by the brute force of the royal guard – Jimin doesn’t hesitate to rush back to you. 

He’s been given the blessing from his higher-ups. Notified that the castle will be on high alert while the rest of your family has been scattered to their own locations of safety. They too have their own personal guards who stand their grounds and hover their sides. What matters now is that the kingdom is still intact even after such a brutal attack. They are not overthrown and they will continue on as supreme rulers.

As for any hostages held from the invaders, they will be judged appropriately and prodded for questions and answers before the royal court. Jimin has seen this many times, but never to this extent. This is the first time in his line of duty that the castle was attacked – but he is thankful for the outcome.

He wouldn’t know what would have happened if it turned out different.

His chest heaves with heavy breaths as he slows his pace the moment his eyes lay on the door to his mother’s house. Inside he knows you are waiting, impatiently he assumes. But seeing your face again will give him a sense of relief. A calming vortex that sinks deep inside his body and warms his nerves.

Jimin’s blood pumps in his ears as he calls out to his mother in the form of telepathy – a unique trait wolves have with one another. An inner circle of connections that allows wolves to speak to other wolves. Mira is ready by the door, twisting the handle and allowing Jimin a swift entrance into the house.

He tries to step quietly as his heavy wolf form causes the wood flooring to creak under his steps. His pads resound a soft thud as he walks. At first, he expects to walk straight to his room as he remembered he offered you his place to rest. But as his nose picks up your immediate scent, he realizes that you’re still resting on the couch right in front of the fire.

“She hasn’t moved,” Mira murmurs under her breath. Jimin’s mother stayed up all hours he was gone, watching and keeping you company. “I’ve given her plenty of tea and washed her face with a heated cloth. I’ve kept adding more wood to the fire to help. Even in her sleep, she still shivers. She may have hypothermia,” she warns.

He wouldn’t put it past him if this is the case. You were never made for enduring February winters in just a nightgown after all. Barefooted may he add.

Jimin walks over you, his nose sniffing at your skin to seek any discomfort your body may radiate. You lay there bundled up as much as you can under heavy fabrics of wool and fur. Jimin smiles to himself fondly as he sees the way you tuck your chin into the blanket and cover your nose.

A tentative look is shared between Jimin and his mother before he nudges his head against your arms.

You rouse from your slumber momentarily and your immediate reaction is to tighten your body and move to a more comfortable position. However, Jimin doesn’t allow you. He nudges you again and this time he digs his nose between the crack of your arms, prying them open so he can slot his head through and force your arm around his neck.

Mumbling in your sleep, you groan at the annoyance of being woken up. But when you feel the soft bristles of fur against your face and the undeniable warmth coming from them, you cling onto whatever is pressing against you.

It wakes you further. Enough to make you register enough to know Jimin is in your arms right now. Your fingers cling onto him tightly, screwing them into knots as you inhale deeply into the side of his neck. He smells like the frozen forest mixed with burning embers; the smell of smoke clogging between his roots.

His warmth is what reminds you of home. It forces happiness to leak out of your eyes as a warm tear drips onto his fur the more you bury your face into him. His movement forces you to wake up, urging you with a tug to get off the couch and follow him.

Leisurely, you hang from him while he ushers you to the other room – his room. Your feet stumble as the two of you pass Mira. You don’t care how clumsy you look, you’re just happy to have Jimin back.

“Jimin,” his mother tries speaking in a hushed tone. “Remember who you are to her.”

He doesn’t stop his stride as he enters his old bedroom with you nearly hanging off of him. It’s upkept well thanks to his mom. Nothing moved or changed over the years. With a few more nudges and suggestive pushes, he has you falling into place upon the mattress. It’s low to the ground, easy for him to step on it even in wolf form and lay comfortably as you attach yourself to his back. 

This form is undoubtedly the warmest. And with his wolf form he serves as a natural furnace for you. He doesn’t mind the way your fingers dig into his fur or the way your cold body presses desperately against his. He allows anything that will warm you up.

His eyes meet his mother’s as she leans in to shut the bedroom door. Words and feelings cannot describe his unfair bond to you – but with werewolves, they have a mutual understanding of how things work.

Jimin groans with a huff before putting his head down on the bed. He stays awake, alert, and listens to the sounds and conversations running through his head. Even when the threat is over, he still stays guard. Ready to pounce on anything that comes toward you.

For now, you may sleep comfortably. Jimin will be able to tell you later about the results of the castle and your family. 

You’re greeted by coldness as you toss and turn. The fresh chill pricks your cheeks, jolting your nerves to wake when you want nothing more than sleep. Chirps of wild birds sing outside of the window that casts a dull ray of sun into the room. It still looks dark out. There’s also an ache in your joints and muscles, particularly in your neck.

Perhaps you slept awful,  used to having your luxury linens and perfectly fluffed pillows. Instead you spent the night balled up, tight, against the only thing that holds heat.

The fire isn’t what saves you from the brisk cold of winter. It is the tender bristles of a wolf’s fur that hordes blissful heat, warmer than a copper pan filled with rocks warmed at the edge of a fire.

But you are not welcomed with that same softness of Jimin’s fur anymore. When you turn again, you realize you press against the smooth surface of his broadened back. Black ink decorates down his spine in the phases of the moon as your eyes focus from the haze of sleep. Does it make any sense to see the man you adore, shirtless with his back to you in the same bed? 

Absolutely not.

Your clogged head tries to clear the fog of confusion as you edge away from Jimin. He’s tucked under the covers, just as you. His chest rises and falls slowly, in a deep sleep. He’s more exhausted than you, his body fought all night. It makes sense he finally collapsed into a resting state; relaxed and dare you say, delicate. The branded ink shines subtly as his skin, miraculously still smooth, feels even warmer under your tender fingertips. Slowly, you trace invisible patterns onto his skin, mesmerized by the way he doesn’t pull away from you.

You feel guilty for snuggling up closer to him, knowing very well he isn’t in a conscious state for him to put you back in your place like all the other times. But you feel drawn in and addicted to his warmth and security in such a tender position.

Jimin inhales and exhales deeply, shifting his head when he feels your fingers tickle the nape of his neck. He shifts in his sleep, moving his body enough to force you to freeze. His hand reaches back, swatting away your hand as if it is a dainty bug crawling on him. But he realizes it’s nothing but a hand – your hand – and instead, he grips it. Pulling it around him and stretching your arm across his torso so that he can hold it against his chest. Jimin curls himself in a fetal position, dragging you flush against his back.

“Stop tickling me,” he murmurs in a groggy voice. He huffs out a small burst of air, humor laced with it.

Your forehead presses into his spine, a small smile creeping up on your lips.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Silence falls once again except for the subtle sounds of Jimin’s breathing. You could stay like this forever if you were able to. Ignore all responsibilities of life and stay with Jimin. Deep down, you secretly wish this. Having his protection and solace, bringing you solitude and clarity. You know that he is all you will ever need. He’s been exactly everything you need him to be in your life, even when times get tough and he guides you to do something you’re stubbornly against. It’s all for your well-being. Your overall happiness. Jimin has never steered you down the wrong path; even if it’s the path you wouldn’t pick yourself.

He is strong in many ways you aren’t. Rational and accountable. You know he will do everything in his power to let you have the perfect life and he will never leave you.

This feeling of unfulfillment with your heart always reminds you how a large piece of him belongs there. No matter how much room you make for your family and potential suitors that come your way. Nothing will fill the undeniable love you have toward your personal royal guard.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. This time with a different reason.

You’re apologizing for yourself. For the position you put yourself in even though you never win the fight with your emotions. How you cannot control this bond between the two of you and how you cannot change the way you feel toward him. You know you could never be with a wolf, let alone your own personal guard. The years between you doesn’t matter either. Jimin still looks as you first remember him, minus the added tattoos, scars and array of hair styles he’s sported. He has always been your guard, a figure to look up to, a brother, and a best friend without being them at the same time.

The connection you feel with Jimin is unexplainable. A natural magnetic draw you feel. A compelling force screaming at you that this – he – is exactly what your mind, body, and soul needs.

“Get some more rest,” Jimin urges as he squeezes your hand a little bit tighter.

“I am being honest with you,” you declare.

“So am I,” Jimin’s sleepy voice seeps through.

Your small tiff stirs Jimin awake. He turns slowly, still maintaining his hold on your hand as he faces you. The small puff of his cheeks shows you how tired he must be as his eyes remain closed. Jimin leans in, pushing your head into his chest as he rests his face into the top of your head.

“Rosemary,” he speaks out loud. He inhales slowly, admiring the sweet scent of the herb used to wash your hair every night. “It suits you so much.”

You feel a flush of warmth coursing through your body in such an intimate position. You have never been this close or tangled with Jimin like this before. There’s faint scars across his chest from what you can see, memories of past battle wounds that cut too deep perhaps.

“Are you hurt?” You question. Wondering how his body never correctly healed these specific marks.

“Not anymore,” he hums as he pulls you in tighter.

You can hear the faint beating of his heart as you twist your head to lay against his chest. It thumps calmly, like a lullaby whispering in your ear.

“Why are you here?” You dare to question. 

A heavy thought that’s been weighing on your mind for far too long. You want to thank him for welcoming you into his solitude and keeping you warm throughout the night. Even then, you hardly remember moving from the couch to this bed. Jimin sharing a bed with you doesn’t make any sense to you. Especially how he rests with no clothes on; assumingly you believe as the blankets cover more than your eyes can see.

“Warmth,” he responds. “I had to keep you warm. But I fell asleep.”

“Why are you still here then…?”

Jimin exhales deeply. He still rests as much as he can even with your quizzing questions.

“I’m pretending I’m still dreaming.”

“Dreaming?” You blink.

“Yes.” Jimin’s hand gingerly raises to stroke the side of your head, brushing off any stray locks. His palm is so warm against you, the contact heating you instantly. “A dream. Would you like me to leave?”

“No,” you blurt out faster than you expected. “I just don’t understand,” you try leaning back to look at his face.

“Princess,” he tsks. “How can I explain this?” He questions himself more than you. Jimin places his lips on your forehead and rests them there as he contemplates his words. “A wolf cannot be mixed with a royal. But you desire a wolf. And a wolf desires you.” He hesitates with the next sentence that leaves his mouth. “However, it will never be allowed. And thus… a dream.”

“You dream of this?” You ask, stunned.

“Don’t you?” He huffed a laugh. “I know you do. There are times that I can read it all over your pretty face. I can feel it too.”

“I-I,” you feel flustered. Your feathers fluffed every which way as Jimin speaks so carelessly of such a sensitive subject.

“I know how you feel for me,” he states. “I’m sorry you do. Even when I try to keep you on the right path, show you your responsibilities and guide you to your title's destiny… you found a sanctuary in me.”

Jimin continues to stroke your face with his thumb, his nose breathes out hot air against your forehead. He caresses you tenderly, holds you dear to him as if he is afraid to let you go.

“I’ve… I have always loved you,” you confess. Swallowing thickly as your throat closes up with emotion. Jimin allows you to slide your arms around him again.

“I know. I can feel everything you feel,” he sighs. “Your happiness. Your sadness. That painstaking broken heart every time you’re forced to live your reality.”

He smiles softly against your skin, peppering small kisses where his lips rest.

“I also feel the way you can’t control your emotions. How you constantly battle with what’s right and wrong. How not a single person draws your attention more than I do. I can’t really explain how I can feel these things,” he tilts your head to look down into your eyes. “It won’t make any sense.”

In the soft morning light, his features are more admirable. His skin glows beautifully, like a natural highlight illuminating off of the edges of his face. Jimin cracks open his eyes, only slightly, to peer down at your innocent expression. A face he’s seen for many years after being scolded or pressed for answers. The beauty in his eyes, that crisp amber hue, shifts a shade darker as they land on your parting lips.

“Jimin, I don’t want this to be a dream.”

You’re honest about it. The aura of intimacy is fueling the room so purely, it’s nearly smothering. Jimin allows his walls to break down for you to enter; let’s you in his space even when it goes against everything the two of you know.

His thumb flicks your bottom lip, feeling the soft flesh under his digit. He can feel the natural draw, how his body is aching with a tantalizing need to kiss you. To have you, just for now, before he must go back to reality.

“I’ll do anything for you,” he declares as he looks down at you sadly. “I devoted myself the very first moment I saw you.” His breath shakes as he lets out a breath he was holding.

“Princess,” he begins, the small curve of his lips upturning. He knows this is dangerous, it’s not allowed. Years of pining and rejecting you, fearing the system of the world and the way of life, he’s taking his one and only opportunity to be selfish. A thing you know so very well. Jimin leans down, lips nearly brushing yours, “Please forgive me.”

Your lips press together in a gentle embrace. He pours his unannounced love for you with this kiss; all those years of pent-up, hopeless desires and unfathomable attachment finally burst through with the only way he can show you. 

There’s no way of telling how long your kiss lasts; and eternity sounds like an understatement. Your breath hitches in your throat, surprised by the act and realism of Jimin – the man you’ve grown to love throughout all these years – has committed such a sinful, yet delightful, treason for the sake of his own greed. The same act you do not disgust, appall, or dislike. You greet it, after a few moments of shock, with happiness. A passion of feeling what you pined for all this time. Acceptance, understanding, and need.

Jimin’s warm fingers run along the side of your face and down the length of your arm. “Pretend it’s just a dream.” He smiles in between kisses.

A subtle tear breaks the brim of your eye as you capture Jimin in a passionate, breathtaking kiss. You bring him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and tasting his tongue in your mouth. 

When it’s just a dream, you’re allowed to cross the lines of right and wrong. Do the things you want to do, impulsively or not. That’s why you don’t bother to wait when you desperately cling to him, tangling your soft fingers through his messy hair. You feel the way Jimin presses himself into you, not a care of his royal guard status or what your title is. He brings his love out to another being – you.

You feel the gentle pull of his hands at the lining of your padded clothes. There’s so much keeping you bundled, but he’s sure he can keep you warm with his body. His hands roam under the fabrics, feeling the touch of the soft skin of your hip. He skirts his hand up your back, pressing his palm onto you to drag you into him.

“Are you sure?” You question him as if you’re being fooled. Tricked into thinking this truly is a dream and not something you will remember.

“I’ve never wanted something so desperately,” he admits with no embarrassment. “So many times I’ve had to tell you to look away from me. Entertain these other suitors… It hurts. But I know I will always be there for you even if your feelings aren’t as they are now. Even if you didn’t feel for me. I can’t help that. I’m bound to you.”

Your eyes roam the expanse of his body that you can see against the pale sheets of his old mattress. His words send glee to your heart. Had you known this hurts him as much as it hurts you, you would do something about it. Find a way to make something work. There must be a way.

“I’m sorry for being so distant with you in regard to your emotions. But, I do it to protect you. I’m not right for you.” Jimin whispers as his lips reconnect with yours. A carnal desire brewing deep inside of him, no doubt inside of you too.

“Jimin,” you whimper against his mouth. The crack in your voice is threatening to snap.

“Tell me to stop.”

“Don’t,” you sniffle. 

Your head is a clutter of sensitive emotions ransacking your brain. Clouding your headspace as if you are in a daydream. But you accept it. Allow this illusion, real or not, to be as real as it can ever get.

You accept him and this moment of time.

The heat of Jimin’s body keeps you warm from the chilled air outside of the sheets. Slowly, he shifts to have you laying on your back as his body crawls over you. Jimin plants soft and wet kisses down your jawline to a sweet spot on the side of your neck, multitasking with the buttons of your thick clothes.

The second he is able to free portions of your body from the garments, his skin slides over yours. Touching every delicately smooth surface of your body. Rising goosebumps through each sway of his fingers across every inch. You melt into his touches, a quiet whimper and pleasant hum escaping your nose.

“You’re so beautiful,” he comments as he levels his head with yours. He takes a moment to peer down at your morning face, admiring the way you look even with a rough night. Jimin remembers your eyes the most. How genuine and curious they are. He reminisces about the first time; when a shot of an electrifying spark penetrated his entire being because of his imprinting nature… how it connected him to you for as long as you live. “I will never lose you.”

Jimin can feel the way your body speaks to him. How together all your nerve endings and atoms feel as if they join like a perfect puzzle. It leads him further to your core, trailing his hand tentatively as he waits for a clear sign for him to continue.

He presses himself gently against you, showing you his growing need for you. The hardened appendage pokes you like a soft tapping on a door, trying to be as polite as possible.

You take his face in your hands, pulling him down for another emotional kiss. You nod to him, giving him the clearing to roam your most secretive bits.

After removing the access clothing from your legs, his fingertips glide up your inner thighs. He shivers when he inhales suddenly, taking in the small whiff of your scent. Instinctively, and almost casually, you bend your knee to allow more access for him.

Jimin’s fingers ghost over your core, brushing against the edges before feeling the slick heat from your lower lips. He teases you at first but not on purpose. Jimin swallows nervously, fighting with his body to remind himself to take things slow.

He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling at the plump piece of flesh as his index finger runs down your slit. You shutter with a breath of hot air blowing out, enjoying the foreign touch.

Unsure what to do with your hands, you begin to run them down his hard chest to mimic the similar style of approach he does on you. Though you’re halted the moment you hit his navel by his hand.

“Allow me to focus on you,” he requests in a soft tone. He raises your knuckles to his mouth where he plants a chaste kiss to them.

He suggests for your hands to remain away as he descends down the valley of your breasts. Each tender kiss he leaves to your feverish skin in the commute to your lower region has you squirming. You hoist the blankets over your body as Jimin disappears underneath them, taking the heat too. He’s able to maneuver skillfully between your legs, slotting himself neatly as you spread them wider.

You don’t get to see the way Jimin licks his lips when his eyes focus on your core for the first time. How your scent hits his nose at full force, reminding him how beautifully wet you’re becoming with the tension built up around you. His finger returns to you, sliding down your slit and nudging against your clit. It causes you to jolt, instinctively closing your legs around him as much as possible. But he keeps them open with his hands and body as he moves closer.

Peeking under the covers, you see the dark hair of Jimin sinking between the junction of your thighs. You capture the scene, branding it in your memory the moment Jimin’s mouth abruptly comes down on to your clit. You cry out, gripping the blankets in hard fists as his tongue languidly flicks over your sensitive bud as his finger teases your entrance.

“Shh,” he tries to tame you when he inserts his finger into you. You clench tightly, shift your legs even more as your body adjusts to Jimin.

He’s wondering what you’ll feel like if he inserts another, if it’ll pull another whimper and a moan from you. And he has to; to spread your entrance wider and stretch your walls open enough to allow him inside. Prepare your body for the intrusive thoughts bleeding into his mind of your body shaking under him with pleasure.

Jimin curls his fingers once he adds a second one into the mix, slowly pumping them in you at a steady pace as his lips caress your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks your bud so dangerously, it makes you cry out even louder and begins to disturb the silent winter morning air.

His free hand comes down to your waist to stop your hips from bucking into him. Jimin releases his mouth from you and calms his fingers as he hushes you once again.

“Quiet, Princess. Please.”

“Jimin, I-I’m-” You pant softly. Your chest shakes with the rise and fall and intense pounding of your heart.

“Don’t be sorry,” he interjects. Jimin slides himself up your body again while still securing his fingers inside your core. “I know it’s hard to not be loud.” He places a kiss to your cheek before finding your mouth, the taste of you still lingering on his plump lips. Gently, he adds a third finger into your entrance and captures your whine with a sealed kiss.

He uses this moment to experimentally widen your walls with the scissoring effect of his fingers. Fighting off the impulsive clench your body naturally does. When his thumb presses into your clit your body jumps.

Your hands rush to his head, combing through his hair as you fight to anchor yourself on something.

Jimin winces from the strength and harsh pull, but he doesn’t let it bother his actions. Instead, he is kissing your neck again as his hand wraps around your back. He lifts you up like it’s easy until you’re straddling his lap, legs still parted wide for him. Jimin removes his fingers from you, allowing him to push you closer against his hardness. The contact makes his neglected member flinch with excitement.

Your cheeks prick with sparks of warmth as you look Jimin in the eyes again. Both completely naked and in each other's own embrace. Your hot slick presses against his shaft and Jimin cannot help but use his hand to push you into him again.

The blankets have fallen around the two of you, leaving Jimin’s strong muscles to hold you upright on top of him and exposed for him and only him.

“You can’t tell anyone…” he begins as his lips lock with yours. “What happens here must stay here.”

“But what if I don’t want that?” You ask, catching your breath in between kisses.

“Want and need are two different things.”

“I want both of those though,” you exclaim. “I want and need you, Jimin.”

He silences you again, but this time with his tongue. He dives deep into your mouth, groaning with the taste of you that excites him.

“Don’t ever speak of this,” he reminds you. “You mean more to me than you can ever imagine. You’re special to me, Y/n. You will always have me.”

Your heart tightens in your chest as you hear his sincere words. Relief is an understatement. The reassurance and verbal notice of Jimin’s confession is enough to send you to cloud nine. His loyalty and dedication to your family's name isn’t the only thing he cares for. The importance of you and how you are something more to him sends your heart into eternal bliss. Maybe all it took is to finally hear it from the source.

“I’ve always loved you,” you declare as if Jimin never knew this himself. 

He nods, leaning in to capture another kiss from you as your hands tugs on his shoulders. Your mouths move together so perfectly, reminding you how you want nothing more than to do this for the rest of your life. Lightly, your clit brushes against his hardened and untouched dick. The sensation of how close you are to it sends excitement through your body, arousing you more as you desperately rock against him for more stimulation with his help. Your slick drips along his lap, making the glide easier for you.

You admire the tip of his cockhead pointing up toward you, silently requesting to be touched.

“Help me,” you whisper as your legs try to help raise you above him.

Jimin positions his cock when you’re hovering over him. Your arousal drips teasingly over him, dressing the mushroom head of his tip in a shiny coat. He breathes out a strangled breath as the curse word ‘shit’ runs out of his lips. 

Slowly, you drop down on Jimin’s cock. Allowing him to stretch you open as the first inches penetrate you. He holds you up, allows you to sink down at your own pace as both your mouths open with pleasurable surprise. A silent gasp leaves the two of you breathless as you sit flush against him, ignoring any prickling pain as your walls flutter around his cock. Squeezing and unsqueezing rigorously as your head tosses back with eyes screwed shut. Jimin groans with a string of incoherent words, muffled by the way he presses his lips into the side of your neck.

“Oh,” you whimper. 

Knees already threatening to buckle and morph into jelly, your hands hold onto Jimin’s sturdy shoulders when you look down between the two of you. There’s fascination running through you as you watch the way your breasts rub against his chest each time your body moves down his; watching the way he disappears inside of you and filling you up.

The two of you moan in unison as you experimentally roll your hips into him. Jimin’s fingers tighten around your thighs, jerking his hips up to meet yours. He keeps a leisurely pace with you as he wishes nothing but to make you feel pleasurable. You can feel the way your orgasm slowly builds within you as you hold Jimin’s head closer against your neck. A desperate way of holding onto something while you begin to tremble with sensitivity.

“Is it too much?” He questions as he holds you impossibly closer to his body.

You breathe deeply, clutching his cock with your walls.

“No,” you choke out. “I need more.”

Jimin pulls you off of him to greet your face with his. He lays you down expertly, letting your body rest soft against the mattress again. Jimin is able to hook his arm around one of your legs and gently lifts it higher, testing the new angle and watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. 

You cry out his name as you feel his cock run across a specific spot inside of you, making your toes curl and back arch. The sparks in your body flying like lightning in the sky.

There’s a tightness in your stomach that shoots down to your lower region, alerting you of your approaching orgasm. Jimin notices from the way you shake with each thrust he gives. He holds your legs wide, allowing deeper access to push into you as his abdomen flexes every time his body bangs into yours.

“Like this?” He breaths out, a glimpse of blue shining from his eyes.

“K-keep… Y-yes,” you moan, feeling him hit every mark with this new angle.

Jimin lowers himself down to catch your lips with his, closing your mouth and muffing your noises to the best of his abilities. He absolutely loves hearing the sounds of your whimpers and pleasure, but he’s not trying to allow everyone else to hear them.

Another quick and particular movement of Jimin’s hips has you coming undone beneath him, bucking your hips up to match his thrusts as you squeeze tight around him. You feel the way your nails dig into his shoulders as you shake uncontrollably as Jimin continues to thrust through your orgasm. The sounds of your bodies colliding heightens with squelching noises, your dripping arousal coating his entire pelvis and leaking onto the sheets below.

With a few more sharp thrusts, Jimin pulls out of you and spills his seed onto your stomach. Dressing your smooth skin with strings of milky residue. You catch the ending bit, watching the way his cum spurts out of his cockhead as Jimin presses his pelvis down, using both him and you to squeeze his slick-hardened cock.

Jimin moans with you, still molding your lips together as he holds you close to him. When the two of you calm down from the euphoric sensations, he places his forehead against yours. He looks down at you with soft and serene eyes. Filled with love and adoration. This new sense of energy and vulnerability flows through him.

It’s happiness he shares with you when you both shyly smile at another. Ignoring all the heated labor breathes and dampened hairlines. You get lost in his eyes, wishing that the crisp amber coloring is the solution to all your worries and problems. And in some ways – they are.

“I love you.”

Jimin speaks calmly as he declares his emotions for you. His lips press into yours once more to seal his statement.

You can’t help but look up at him with watery eyes. You want to burst into a full blown cry when you see the way his eyes glisten too, but you don’t. Not wanting to spoil the moment of sincerity for either of you.

“I love you too,” you respond as you brush strands of fringe away from his softening face. It’s almost long enough to tuck behind his ear, which you scowl when you watch the piece fall right back in his face.

You share a soft chuckle with him as he moves slowly, making sure to not spread the mess on your stomach everywhere.

“I’ll clean us up and we can go back to resting for a bit.”

“Okay,” you smile softly. Your hands begin to cover yourself the further Jimin pulls away from your body. 

Jimin is quick to find a feasible cloth from the corner of the room and just as fast to return to you on the bed. He wipes you off first, as he should, before cleaning himself. He kneels down on the mattress as you try to subtly admire his entire naked body. Realizing he is still so unfairly beautiful without the suited armor and clothing he usually wears.

“I should have you know, now that you’re awake…” he huffed a laugh. Jimin slides himself under the covers, meeting your body with his. His arm crosses over your torso, hand running down the other side of you until he pulls you close by the waist. “Your family is safe. We defeated the threat last night and your castle will undergo some reconstruction from the damages. But everything is maintained again. I’m sure we will have to return within the day.”

The news makes you happy. The outcome could have been far worse in many ways. But hearing these words from Jimin is comforting. It makes you proud and grateful for him. You aren’t sure what the future will bring. How this dreamy secret must never be spoken about. What this could all mean now. But what you do know, is that he loves you too, and that is enough for now.

Moodboard credit: @/kth1

© 2023 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.

[nattyluvs]

i have this overwhelming urge to write a changbin ff idk whats going on

[gempantheon]

We throwing hands with a duel spirit / light hearted

[universestreasures]

Drabble: Release At Last

@voiderequiem (New Ep Brainworms)

His first day as the new lord of this castle had come to end and Yudias was still very much acting on autopilot. Since arriving in this era, he has had no time to process everything that has happened to him. His duel against Yuhi as Otes. The loss of the Darkmen. The ritual he was forced to undergo and what he saw during it... All of it had to be buried deep inside his heart in order for him to keep moving forward on his road, a road that he is unsure what he'll find at the end of.

Rush Duels being used for war and violence...Yudias cannot let what Zuwijo tried to do so long ago come to pass, no matter the era. That was why he opposed the former lord of this castle and usurped his rank and the responsibilities that came with it. The burden he now carried was a heavy one, further adding to all the baggage he was already carrying.

And despite his immense strength of spirit and resolve, even he had his limits...

Zuwijo escorted him to his new chambers personally, his violet blade in hand. He was the lord of the castle now, after all. Surely in such a raging time of war there would be those who would be after his head, and his former commander thought it be best he had him to protect him. He had become his sword, it seemed.

It was odd...having the roles reversed like this. Back during the endless Velgearian war, Yudias was the one who had followed Zuwijo's command. But now, Zuwijo was following his command, devoting himself to the new cause with all he had to offer.

It was...nostalgic fighting side by side with him once more. Though, there was no joy to be found in it for Yudias. For the happiness he used to feel so strongly, even during times of war when he found the light in the dark, had seemingly been sucked out of him. In it's place was nothing but a cold and hardened exterior, one that mirrored Zuwijo's own.

"Zuwijo." His voice is commanding, just as it had been since his duel with Oteiusu the previous day, as he calls for the other to stop his exit from Yudias' room. "Stay. Please..."

Upon providing the order, Yudias approaches the other. His steps are slow and purposeful. His expression unreadable. When he does reach him, he leans forward to rest his head on his shoulder. And all at once he releases...everything.

Everything he had been holding in, from the tension in his shoulders to the pain in his heart, he releases it all in that moment. Much like during the war of the past, Zuwijo was to be his rock. He was to provide him the stability he so desperately needed, just as he provided him with the courage to continue forward when he wanted to give up countless times.

"...it hurts." Yudias whispers into the fabric of the other's cloak, his voice sounding crackly as it is rocked by tears he finally sheds from his teal hues. "It hurts so much, Zuwjio. It's...unbearable. The things I've seen...The things I've...I've had to do..."

His hands then grip onto the violet of the other's uniform, finding stability in his sturdy frame. The close proximity made the tears of his eyes stain the other's clothes. Though, that doesn't seem to bother Zuwijo at all, who simply continued to stand there and give his silent support through it all as Yudias continued to cry into his chest.

He truly was...always there when he needed him. Whether in his brightest moment or his darkest hour, Zuwijo always found someway to connect himself to Yudias. It was another showcase of the bond of fate these two Velgearians, one of Light and one of Darkness, shared. It has been this way since the day they were first created, and it will continue...always and forever.

[chenfordswopez]

crellie + "i still love you-" -"no you don't. you love using me. you hate that I'm standing up for myself now. you loved me when i was submitting to you." (this speaks to me for them!)

Ellie let out tears. She had no idea why she was letting him do this to her. Why was she letting herself getting sucked back in? Especially after what he did to Manny and Ashley.

Craig strokes Ellie’s cheek, wiping her tears. “I still love you-“ Ellie cut him off, pulling away. She shook her head, “No you don't. You love using me. You hate that I'm standing up for myself now. You loved me when i was submitting to you.” She began pacing back and forth, “You know I used to be jealous of Manny, because she had you. But now I’m jealous that she managed to get out of your soul sucking bullshit!”

Craig started, “El-“ Ellie cut him off, “You know the funny thing is that I always heard that being in love involves being happy. I’ve seen it with Paige and Alex, with Marco and his boyfriends. But I’ve never hated myself more than when I used to love you.” She shook her head, wiping her tears. “But not anymore. I’m done. Forever.” Ellie exhaled, walking out from the airport.