buibleboo

[buibleboo]

250107 MARK Update

[buibleboo]

[buibleboo]

241227 HAECHAN

[buibleboo]

241227 HAECHAN

[buibleboo]

the number of times i reread this... (gonna read AGAIN after this LOL) srsly funny but rlly hot but funny but hot but-

Bestie

Summary: A project for your botany class goes wrong. Now you and your friend who you have a very obvious crush on are stressed and horny.

Pairing: Werewolf! Yangyang x Witch female reader

Warnings: Smut, sex pollen, phone sex, JUST THE TIP IS NOT A SAFE METHOD FYI, friends to lovers, I would call this couple dumb and dumber. Also I need him. No angst (FINALLY)

Yangyang was a weird guy. 

That’s what you thought when he joined the same botany class as you for elective credits, and he was already muttering something about how he hated it before it started. He wasn’t talking to anyone in particular but he was dropping his bag and sitting on the available seat next to you so you could hear him.

“Then why did you enroll?” you asked, a little annoyed. He was kinda cute, but a grown adult whining about his chosen class was a turnoff.

“All the good classes were full already,” he replied petulantly. “I’m not even good with plants. I killed my mom’s cactus when–” his sentence died out when he turned to look at you and he just stared at you dumbly.

You lifted your brows, expecting him to finish the story about how one manages to kill a cactus, but he just stared.

“What’s wrong with you?” you finally asked.

“H-hi,” he said instead of replying, with a nervous yet cheerful tone, contrary to the one you had heard earlier. “I’m Yangyang.”

You frowned. You had met a few weirdos on campus, so you assumed he was just one of them. Still, you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I’m Y/N,” you said, offering your hand for him to shake.

His eyes lit up and he grabbed your hand, but he immediately pulled back with a …moan?

“Fuck, bad idea,” he murmured, standing up and getting away from you like you had just burnt him.

Fairly enough, your hand felt incredibly hot after he touched it and a comforting warmth was now expanding in your chest.

“Bad idea,” he repeated, grabbing his backpack and running towards the door. “Nice to meet you, Y/N!” he yelled before disappearing. 

Yangyang was euphoric like never before. As he ran home he felt the cold wind hit his reddened cheeks and the still-fresh memory of your citrus scent mixed with the ocean breeze so perfectly he found himself with his arms wide open and inhaling deeply. It smelled like happiness. Holy shit, your scent should definitely be called liquid happiness and sold in tiny expensive bottles. But then other people would get to smell you.

A low growl resonated in his chest and he stopped dead in his tracks, placing his palm on his chest to feel the vibrations. 

Was he being possessive?

Wow, so the others weren’t exaggerating when they said imprinting made you unreasonably jealous and clingy. ‘Wolf instinct’ they called it.

He resumed his way home, now feeling the fatigue and pain that everyone told him about when entering an unscheduled rut due to imprinting, which he also mistakenly thought was an exaggeration. 

“Skipping class already?” Ten asked, unimpressed, as soon as Yangyang opened the front door.

“Yes, but it's an emergency,” Yangyang said, out of breath and dragging his feet to come in.

“What’s wrong?” Ten asked with a concerned tone this time.

“My dick’s about to explode.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m so serious,” Yangyan groaned, barely making it to the sofa and flopping on it. “Imprinting better be fucking worth it because this hurts.”

“Imprinting?” Ten repeated incredulously. “You imprinted?!”

The younger nodded tiredly. “She’s so hot, hyung. Everyone’s gonna be so jealous.”

Ten squealed excitedly. “How did you meet?”

“We 're in the same botany class and…fuck, I really need to be her partner for the project.”

“Wait, botany class with Professor Lawson?”

“Yeah, why?” 

“I know the guy,” Ten said with a smirk. “I’ll have a word with him. I’m sure he won’t mind helping you out.”

“Oh, thank god. Thank you so much,” Yangyang murmured weakly.

“Tell me more about her! What’s she like?”

“Well, we established that she's the hottest woman on Earth. She also has beautiful eyes that look so cute when annoyed.”

“You annoyed her already?”

“And her voice is so addictive,” Yangyang continued, ignoring the question. “And she has this super delicious scent…” he groaned, not noticing that his hand was going down to his trousers.

“Yangyang, do that in your room! Have some shame!” Ten exclaimed, forcing him to stand up and pushing him to the stairs. “Go upstairs and I’ll bring suppressants in a minute.”

Surprisingly, Yangyang was obedient this time, forcing himself to make an effort to go to his room. He usually took suppressants before he could even experience a pre-rut, so he didn’t remember the last time he felt this tired and needy. He took the pills Ten gave him and took off his pants, knowing very well that no pill would be too effective now that he had met you and that he had to take care of himself the old-fashioned way.

Honestly? He was happy to do it if he got to think about you to cum.

“Hhmmm…” he bit his lip and arched his back when his fingers—the same ones that had touched your skin earlier— finally circled his cock.

He remembered how soft your hand was. How would it feel if it was your hand touching him instead of his?

He chuckled. Your hand probably wouldn’t be able to grasp all of him. You would have to use both.

“Yeah, Y/N,” he whispered, closing his eyes and imagining he had you there with him. “It’s okay, just g-go slow, hm?”

In his vision, you stubbornly tried to grab him more firmly and jerk him faster. In reality, he tugged at his cock until reaching the desired speed. “Ooohh, you like it that much? Mhmm? You can have it, Y/N, g-go ahead…”

He ran his thumb over the tip a few times, imagining it was your pretty tongue teasing him. “Oooooh yes, baby, that’s my girl, right there…”

He quickened the pace, occasionally teasing the tip again. He was so close already and he had barely touched himself.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered letting out a breathy laugh, thrusting into his fist. “Fuuuck I’m so lucky.”

Would you let him cum on your face? Would you close your eyes or keep them open and meet his gaze?

“Y/N–Oh!” His eyes screwed shut and he tossed his head back. His mouth opened in a silent scream and his toes curled when his orgasm hit and cum covered his fist and lower belly…and it kept coming out. “Ooooh, what the f-fuck, whatthefuck, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…” he babbled out incoherently, tossing at the neverending pleasure. 

When he finally stopped coming, he opened his eyes slowly and looked at the ceiling in astonishment.

What the fuck was that? Was every orgasm going to feel like this from now on? What would happen when he finally got to do it with you?

He couldn’t wait to figure it out.

You, on the other hand, thought you wouldn’t see Yangyang again, assuming he had dropped the class. So you were more than surprised when he showed up next week, standing in front of you and clearing his throat to catch your attention.

“Oh, it’s you,” you sighed. 

“We’re together,” he mumbled, showing you a piece of paper with your name on it.

Great. Not only was there a lunatic in your class, but you were stuck with him as a partner for a project.

“Why didn’t you drop the class?” you asked honestly. “You said you didn’t like plants.”

“I don’t hate plants,” he shrugged, sitting next to you. “They just die on me.”

You glared at him in disbelief. “You do know your grade depends on your ability to keep plants alive, don’t you?”

“Are you good with plants?” he asked back.

“Yes,” you hissed. “Unlike you, I want to be in this class.”

“Then you can teach me,” he shrugged.

“Or better yet,” you offered. “I’ll do everything and write your name on the report. Just don’t get on my way.”

“Mr. Lawson!” Yangyang called for the professor, raising his hand. “Y/N doesn’t want to follow the rules–”

“He’s kidding!” you yelled quickly, grabbing Yangyang’s arm and hitting his back.

He groaned and then laughed like he enjoyed this type of attention coming from you.

“Yangyang, I won’t risk my grade for you.”

He smirked lazily. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He shrugged.”Yeah, we just have to learn to work together.”

“I don’t know if you can’t tell, but I already dislike you,” you said.

He shrugged again. “I kinda like you though.”

You blushed immediately, not expecting such words to come out of his mouth.

“J-just promise me you’ll carry your weight and maybe we can try to be friends or something.”

“Friends,” he savored the word. “Sounds good.”

You opened your book, ready to end the conversation there and concentrate on the class when you remembered something.

“Why did you run off like that? That time when we shook hands?” you asked, turning to look at him and freezing in place when his eyes met yours. They looked hungry, and predatory, unlike before. How did he keep changing his aura like that?

“Something urgent came up,” he said, still holding you captive with his gaze.

“What was a bad idea?” you asked.

“Hmm?”

“You said ‘bad idea’ before you ran away.”

His eyes hardened and then he looked at your lips, but he didn’t reply. 

The warm sensation came back, but this time traveled down your chest to your stomach and then went even lower.

You crossed your legs quickly and saw him smirk. Could he know what you were feeling?

“What was a bad idea?” you repeated, a little unsure you wanted to know the answer this time, but right then the professor started talking and you quickly looked to the front, focusing on the class.

“Shaking your hand,” Yangyang’s voice whispered, right next to your ear, giving you goosebumps and making you sit up straight, tense.

“Why was shaking my hand a bad idea?” you asked nervously, still not daring to look at him.

“Mine was sweaty,” he said unexpectedly, trying not to laugh when you turned to look at him with an annoyed expression. God he was going to have so much fun with you. “It’s really embarrassing.”

“Your hand wasn’t sweaty,” you countered.

“You didn’t feel it because I took it back fast enough. I’m a very considerate guy as you can see.”

“I think you’re just annoying,” you said, deciding he was not worth your attention and concentrating on the class again.

“Deal with it. I’m your new friend,” he said casually, opening his book.

“I never said–”

“No takebacks.”

“But I–” “Shh, bestie. I’m trying to pay attention to the class,” he nagged you. “I’m not risking my grade for you, Y/N.”

You scoffed, irritated. You assumed he would be a handful, but as time went by you discovered that he wasn’t as terrible as you thought. He was surprisingly diligent; taking detailed notes, asking relevant questions (some of which you wished you had thought of yourself), and even correcting you when you made a mistake (much to your disdain). 

You had no idea how he managed to pay attention when he was looking at you the entire time. At first, you thought you were imagining things, but he made it very obvious, sometimes not even bothering to look away when you caught him staring. He often stared at your neck and chest, biting his lip so hard you thought he would draw blood, other times he would stare at your crossed legs as if he knew that you were fighting your arousal due to his intense gaze, but most of the time he stared at your face, clenching his fist like he was fighting the urge to caress your cheeks. 

You got the most piercing glares when you wore something a bit more revealing. 

It was a regular summer day when you decided to wear the prettiest floral dress you owned. The fabric was light and fresh, not too tight but it hugged your curves nicely. Most importantly, you felt both pretty and comfortable.

“You’re here?” Yangyang asked casually without looking up from his phone as you placed your bag next to your seat. 

You had sat next to each other for at least a couple of months now, and you were working on the final project together which meant you also met often outside of the class. Sometimes you went for food or ice cream after hours of writing a report and you genuinely had a good time whenever you hung out. You could confidently say that you were somewhat friends by now. 

You hummed and sat down. “How was your weekend?”

“Eh, nothing interesting,” he shrugged, scrolling down. “Have you seen this video–” he finally looked up to show you something on his phone but he stopped mid-sentence when he saw you.

“What video?” you asked.

“What are you wearing?” he asked back.

“A dress?” 

“Why?”

You roll your eyes. “I never question your fashion choices, do I? Plus, I think it’s pretty,” you said, grabbing the hem to pull it down and cover your legs a bit more since the dress had rolled up when you sat down. “What’s wrong with it?”

No sound came out of his lips but he mouthed a very clear ‘fuck’, as he tried to decide if he should focus on your legs or your clavicle.

You blushed and muttered a ‘whatever’, deciding to ignore him for the rest of the class for your own sanity. The last thing you needed was him checking you out and feeding your fantasies that you had unwillingly conjured along with developing a huge inconvenient crush on him. 

You had tried to deny your feelings for weeks, but after the first month, you couldn’t help thinking of him when you pleasured yourself, wondering what he would feel like inside of you. Finding out he was a werewolf only made you even hornier, having heard about how intense sex with one could be. 

You also wondered what he would sound like, if he would go slow like the tease he is or fast and rough to hear you scream.

 Maybe the latter because he seemed to like eliciting sounds from you. You could tell by how often he annoyed you, scared you, and even tickled you until he got some type of vocal reaction from you. 

He would often call you cute when any of those scenarios happened and then his hands would linger a little too long before you slapped his arm and he laughed.

Your crush had intensified by the time you had your midterms and you got an A+ for the report you wrote together. He gave you a high five before impulsively pulling you in for a hug.

And god, he was so warm, and his chest was firmer than you thought and his hands felt just perfect on your waist.

“You did amazing,” he purred right next to your ear, causing you to let out an unexpected whimper.

You both tensed at the sound. You had never been more embarrassed but then you felt his grip tighten and his heartbeat accelerating on his chest pressed against yours.

“Oh, fuck me…” he groaned, nosing your neck.

Your eyes rolled back and you wanted to tell him that you would gladly do so until you heard someone clearing their throat. 

Professor Lawson was not enjoying the show.

You quickly pulled away from each other and never spoke about it again. But Yangyang was always staring, sitting too close, grazing…

Right now, his shorts allowed for his bare legs to gently rub yours and it was making you imagine things that weren’t appropriate for the place and time. The fact that his breathing sounded slightly agitated didn’t help and neither did having him manspreading to feel your touch better so shamelessly.

You gulped before deciding to be bold for once and spread your legs slightly too, pressing your thigh closer to his. 

He inhaled sharply.

He decided to be bold too by slowly dragging one of his hands under the table and gently patting your outer thigh with his fingertips.

You gasped and he retrieved his hand immediately, but you grabbed his wrist, feeling his quickened pulse where your fingers were.

This was a bad idea and you knew it. You were in public, in the middle of class, yet you found yourself shakily placing his hand where it was again not daring to look at him but hoping he would get the hint.

He kept his eyes on the whiteboard, but his fingers drew small patterns on your skin, making you wetter than before. 

You gathered some more courage to place your hand on his thigh, wanting to do the same for him, but as soon as you made contact with the hot skin exposed by his shorts he moaned loud enough for the people on the desks around you to look at you. 

You quickly took your hand away and he did the same. You still didn’t make eye contact and you knew this would be another one of the so many not-so-friendly moments you shared that would never be spoken about again.

Once the class was over, and even though you were mortified, you cleared your throat to speak.

“Uh, we need to talk about–”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to!” he quickly said with wide eyes, fearing a rejection before he even had the chance to confess.

“No, we absolutely have to–”

“How about you take your time to think about it–”

“Yangyang,” you deadpanned. “It’s about the project.”

“Oh,” he let out a relieved sigh. “What about it?”

“Remember I told you I’m going to visit my family for two weeks?”

“Yeah, so?”

“I can’t take our plant with me.”

“Oh…OH?” Yangyang’s eyes widened when he realized what that meant. While he was quite good at the theoretical part, he was still terrified of killing the plant so you were the one to take care of it all the time. If you were away then that meant he had no choice but to take the plant with him.

“You’ll be okay, right?”

“Probably.”

“Probably?”

“I’m terrified,” he admitted.

“It’s only for two weeks,” you reminded him. “You are more than capable of taking care of our baby during that time.”

He blushed hard when you called the plant ‘our baby’ and smiled like an idiot thinking of this being the first of many things you would share. And then he nodded, telling himself that it would be fine as he walked with you to your dorm to receive the project you both had worked on so hard for months.

The Scarlet Sugar Plum was a beautiful plant and, if properly nourished, its leaves could be used as an ingredient to make a Love Potion, which Yangyang was sure was a sign that you were meant to be.

He placed the pot near the window in his room, smiling dreamily. 

Our baby…

But a week later he was glaring at said plant with a sour expression. He didn’t get it. He gave it plenty of sunlight and water so why did it look so weak and dry? The before colorful leaves were turning brown and some of them had fallen, and he feared it soon would be nothing but a bent stem.

You were going to kill him.

Worse: you were going to be disappointed in him.

You were going to hate him and never want to talk to him again and he wouldn’t get to properly confess and he would die alone without his mate and–

Fuck…There had to be something he could do…

Maybe he could buy a new plant? 

No, you would notice immediately that it wasn’t the same one.

Then…he had heard some classmates talk about this potion that would make a plant grow bigger and stronger. The problem was that it wasn’t legal because the side effects could vary and end up making a plant poisonous. 

Was he willing to break the law so you wouldn’t hate him?

…Yes.

You suspected nothing when you texted him asking for a picture of the plant and saw that it looked healthy and strong, even with an extra flower.

“Told you you could do it!” you exclaimed happily when he called you later to catch up. 

“Just hurry up and come get your baby,”  he complained.

“Our baby,” you corrected him. “She’s your project too.”

“I was talking about me,” he replied and you could hear the teasing in his voice. “I’m your baby.”

“You behave like one,” you laughed.

 “No but seriously, hurry up. She misses you.”

“She misses me or you miss me?” you teased.

“I miss you,” he said with no hesitation. 

You blushed, not knowing what to answer for a second and then you paid attention to his breathing. It sounded agitated.

“Are you okay?” you asked. “You sound a little out of breath.”

“Yeah,” he groaned. “It’s just really fucking hot today.”

“Turn the AC on. Don’t be stingy!” you joked as a way to distract yourself from how hot his little groans sounded.

“It’s on!” he complained. “Maybe the problem is me. Am I in rut? Why am I in rut?! it’s not time yet…” he rambled on.

You bit your lip. Yeah, there were times when he had no filter around you, but this was the first time he spoke so openly about his rut.

“Oh, when is it supposed t-to happen, then?” you asked casually, hoping he wouldn’t notice your stutter.

“At least in one more month,” he breathed out. “Fuck, being a werewolf sucks sometimes…”

“It’s kinda cool,” you admitted.

“What’s cool about it?”

“Well, you have a better sense of smell, don’t you?”

“That’s both a blessing and a curse,” he chuckled weakly.

“Why’s that? Because of odors?”

“Because some people smell too fucking good,” he sighed. “Make it hard to control myself.” “O-oh,” you gulped. “Like who?”

“I think you know who, bestie,” he purred, making you shiver.

What was going on?

Was he this direct because of his rut?

You breathed shakily. “W-well, you are also faster and stronger than us humans. That’s pretty cool.”

“Hmm, yeah it can be cool,” he admitted. “I could catch you easily if you tried to run away…”

You gasped and he hummed. You heard some movement too.

“W-why would I run away?” you laughed nervously, feeling your panties sticking to your pussy.

“Wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t…” you breathed out.

He moaned loudly and you heard the sound of a zipper.

“Yangyang,” you rubbed your thighs together needily. “I think I should hang up.”

“No, fuck!” he groaned. “S-stay a little longer, hm? Talk to me.”

“A-about what?”

“Anything,” he breathed out and for a second you could hear a wet sound that made it very obvious he was touching himself. “W-what else is c-cool about werewolves?”

“You have a g-great sense of t-taste,” you said, very consciously sliding your hand into your shorts to feel your wetness over your panties.

Oh god. Were you really doing this?

“Yeah, f-fuck,” he moaned and the fapping sound became faster. “Taste so fucking good,” he sighed dreamily. 

“What tastes good?” you asked, grazing over your clit.

“You–shit!”

“You d-don’t know that…”

“I’m sure,” he replied between moans. “Someone w-who smells so delicious has t-to taste good…”

“Fuck…” you breathed out, rubbing your clit slowly.

“Wanna know what else is cool?” he panted. “Our body temperature is higher…haaa… so m-my tongue is hot as fuck–Mmm…Wanna feel it, bestie?”

Your eyes rolled back and you moaned shamelessly.

“Oooh, yes t-that’s it, imagine it, baby,” he urged you, making you clench at the nickname. “Feel so fucking good, yeah?”

“So g-good,” you panted, rubbing faster and hearing him moaning your name.

“Have you ever seen a knot?” he asked between groans. He couldn’t see you shaking your head but he continued, assuming your answer was no. “N-nothing could make you feel as f-full, ah…filling you up j-just right–fuck…Would ruin you for any other man…”

“Please…” you begged, almost tasting your climax.

“Fuck you so good,” he spoke with slurred words. “Bet y-you’d take it all, yeah?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you muttered, arching your back.

“Ah, haa…Y/N you’re d-doing amazing– oh god…”

“Yangyang!”

“FUCK! Yes, s-say my name j-just like that,” he whines, very obviously fucking his fist and panting desperately as he heard you murmur his name again and again like a mantra. “Oooh fuck, take my knot–”

You didn’t even try to hide the embarrassing moan that came out of your mouth when you had the most powerful orgasm of your life.

While talking to a friend on the phone.

And moaning his name.

You were coming down from your high when you heard him laugh breathlessly.

“So fucking good…” he murmured.

Oh god, you had had phone sex with Yangyang.

“Uh, so, I hope your rut goes well,” you said awkwardly.

“It would if you were here,” he said, still daydreaming.

“Haha,” you laughed nervously. “You’ll find someone to bang next time!”

“Huh?”

“I heard Cassie has the hots for you!”

“B-but…just now…we–”

“Hey, happy to help, bestie!” you interrupted him. “But next time you’ll do that with someone you like.”

He groaned. “Y/N, what–”

“Gotta go! Take care of our project!” you faked a cheerful tone and hung up, turning your phone off and throwing it away nervously to then proceed to scream into your pillow.

Now he knew for sure.

He knew you had a crush on him.

Fuck, you were so embarrassed. He was horny because of his rut, but you had no excuse to moan his name like that. You probably sounded pathetic begging for him.

Maybe he wouldn’t care? Yeah, maybe he was thankful that you helped him out and you would continue being friends. All you had to do was not address it, just like all the other moments of tension you kept sharing and then pretending that never happened.

It would be fine.

Everything was fine.

You kept repeating that to yourself to calm your nerves when you stood in front of Yangyang’s house a few days later. 

It was an old-fashioned house but it was huge, which made sense considering he told you he lived with his pack. 

“I’ll get it!” you heard Yangyang’s voice scream from the other side of the door after you rang the bell. “Why are y’all just standing here? Go away!”

There was a moment of silence. And then you thought you heard him say ‘Fine, but act normal.’

The door swung open and Yangyang welcomed you with his characteristic smile.

“Hey!” he greeted, giving you a friendly hug.

You sighed, relieved. Nothing had changed. He wasn’t awkward around you.

“Hey, you!” you smiled until you noticed at least a dozen eyes on you. A group of men, who you assumed were his packmates, were looking at you with big smiles on their faces.

“Oh, hello!” you said nervously.

They replied cheerfully. Too cheerfully. And Yangyang quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you up the stairs with him.

“Ignore them,” he told you once you entered his room and he closed the door. “They don’t know how to act around girls.”

You snorted. “Oh, so I’m a girl to you now?”

He frowned. “You’ve always been?”

“We’re friends,” you reminded him, deciding to do damage control just in case. “We’re basically bros. You don’t see me as a girl and I don’t see you as a boy.”

He gave you an unreadable look but before he could answer you reached for the plant.

“Oh my god! She grew so much!”

“Yeah…” Yangyang agreed.

“You did a great job! You didn’t need to be afraid, see?”

He bit his lip nervously.

“Normally they don’t grow more than one flower a month, you know?” you babbled out. 

“U-huh…”

“And the leaves normally wouldn’t be this shade of green until winter!”

“Uh…yep…”

“And the scent is normally not this sugary…” your voice became a murmur.

You turned to look at him and he looked away.

“Did you do anything special?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I followed the instructions.”

You looked at the plant, taking a deep inhale at its scent, and then looked back at him. “Yangyang.”

“It’s healthy, isn’t it?” he asked defensively.

“But it isn’t normal.”

“Guess I discovered my natural talent.”

“Yangyang,” you warned him. The air was starting to feel hot and it was irritating you.

“Maybe I’m not as hopeless as you think.”

“I never said you were hopeless.”

“But you imply it!” he brushed his hair with his fingers, frustrated. He was flushed and beads of sweat were forming on his forehead.

“I didn’t–,” you groaned. “I just want to make sure!” you said, feeling slightly suffocated by the sweet scent of the plant.

“I…fuck! I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up!” he admitted, sitting on the bed.

“What did you do?” you asked, fanning yourself with your palm.

“I cheated,” he said defeatedly.

“How?”

“I used Gloom Dust Potion.���

“What?! Where did you get that?”

“The black market, of course,” he grumbled.

“How could you be so careless!” you yelled.

“But I wasn’t! That’s what makes this so frustrating,” he yelled back. “I measured the water, I made sure the room had the right temperature I even set alarms to check on her in the middle of the fucking night! I did everything and it still whithered and I don’t know why I’m such a useless man but I really tried my best because I wanted to give you an A+ and I wanted you to be proud of me and now you hate me–”

“Woah, hold on! I don’t hate you!” you said quickly.

He covered his face with his palms and you kneeled in front of him. “Hey, Yangyang, look at me,” you told him. 

He didn’t reply. 

“Please?” you asked softly.

Hesitantly he uncovered his face and gave you a shameful and sad look. He really had tried his best and he felt terrible about it not working out.

“I don’t hate you,” you repeated.

“Are you sure?” he asked with a small voice.

“Very sure,” you said, cupping his face with your palm.

He let out a soft moan, leaning into your touch.

That’s when you noticed that he was burning up.

“Yangyang, are you okay?” you asked.

“Sorry about the project,” he mumbled, nosing your palm.

“Forget about it. I think you have a fever,” you said, about to retreat your hand and go call for help but he grabbed your wrist and brought you closer again.

“I’m so sorry,” he slurred.

“It’s fine,” you said.

“You’re not mad?”

“I’m not, okay?”

“You’re so good to me…” he whispered.

You frowned. “Yangyang, I’ll go get one of your pack brothers.”

“Did you use this hand?” his question caught you off-guard.

“What?”

“When you touched yourself,” he clarified, scenting your wrist. “That night on the phone.”

You blushed furiously.

“W-what?” you repeated dumbly.

He brought your fingers to his mouth and licked them. It was true that his tongue was hotter than that of a human.

“Yeah, I bet it was this one–fuck…” he moaned.

Your knees wobbled. 

“Yangyang,” you gasped. “Let go. You have a fever.”

“But your skin is hot too,” he mumbled before sucking your index and middle finger into his mouth.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, feeling your head spinning. He was right. You felt incredibly hot and not only that. Your pussy was throbbing and your nipples had hardened under your shirt way before Yangyang had started acting weird.

You were too irritated to notice before but both you and Yangyang got turned on incredibly fast as soon as you entered the room. 

“W-wait oh, no,” you spoke again, pulling away from him and hearing him whine. “I know what’s happening,” you said, making your way to the plant.

Yangyang followed your every move with his eyes like he was hypnotized.

You got closer to one of the flowers and inhaled deeply, only to feel more sticky wetness accumulate between your legs. 

You groaned.

“Yangyang, we need to get out of this room,” you said, going back to him and trying to make him stand up.

“Why?” he asked, not budging.

“The potion intensifies the properties of plants. Ours is used to emulate the feeling of a crush…the feeling of liking someone, right?”

“Right,” he said, trying to process your words.

“Because of the potion, instead of just a crush, you get something bigger. Lust. Desire,” you deduced. 

His eyes widened. “I turned our plant into a fucking aphrodisiac!? So that’s why I’ve been so horny this past week?”

“It’s not your fault,” you say quickly, pulling his arm. “You didn’t know this would happen.”

“Wait,” he said, standing up and towering over you. “Does it mean you’re turned on too?”

You blushed even harder if it was possible. “Yeah, well, that’s what aphrodisiacs do…”

He closed his eyes and inhaled. “Fuck…you’re right. I can smell it…”

You cleared your throat awkwardly. “Yeah, well…Anyways, let’s get out of here.”

“No way, they will see my hard-on and I’m never going to live it down!” he groaned.

You fought your eyes from looking down. “That’s not important right now!”

“And they’ll smell you,” he added, making you halt. “My entire pack will know you came out of my room aroused.”

You muttered a hushed curse and sat down on his bed.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated timidly, sitting beside you.

“Stop apologizing,” you sighed. “We can still pass the class with what we have done so far.”

He didn’t say anything, staring at his lap.

“Hey,” you said, reaching for his hand. “I promise. I’m not mad. We’re still friends, okay?”

He gave you a weak smile and his thumb caressed your hand. 

“Now we only need to think of a way to get out of here without being seen,” you said, looking at the window.

“You’re not jumping out the window,” he deadpanned. “This is the third floor.”

You sighed, flopping on the bed with him following, lying down next to you.

 “The other option is going out when we’re not turned on anymore,” you said.

His hand squeezed yours involuntarily. 

“Oh,” he said. “Maybe it will wear off after…ya know…”

It took you a few seconds to understand what he was proposing.

“You’re suggesting we get off while the other is in the room?” you turned to look at him.

“I w-won’t look,” he promised.

You licked your lips.

“I won’t look either…”

His eyes widened and his ears turned red. 

“R-really? Are we gonna….oh my god…” he squirmed a little as he felt his member twitch.

“I mean…it wouldn’t be t-that different from that time…on the phone…” you whispered.

He groaned.

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t have a better idea,” you breathed out.

You stared into each other's eyes for a few seconds.

“Okay,” he whispered, letting go of your hand. “I’ll turn around,” he informed you, turning to his side with his back towards you.

You took a deep breath in and did the same.

You could feel each other's heartbeats when you were back to back.

“Ready?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah…”

You moved first, slowly sliding your hand into your pants. Your breath caught in your throat when you touched your pulsating clit and then you let out a shaky breath when your index teased it.

You heard him sigh and felt him move slightly. He tried to be quiet when his hand touched his dick, but when he heard the wet sounds of your hand caressing your folds he moaned.

You thrust a finger inside and a whimper escaped you. Yangyang groaned and you heard him whisper what sounded like ‘yes…’

He wasn’t being shy and you were able to hear and feel exactly what he was doing even without looking. 

Another finger entered you and you got lost in your fantasy, imagining it was him doing this to you as you heard his groans.

“Faster,” you accidentally said out loud and were about to apologize, mortified, but you felt him moving his hand faster as he moaned your name.

And you ended up matching his rhythm. 

You weren’t sure if it made a difference if you were looking or not. You were touching yourselves in the same room, back to back, at the same speed and very obviously thinking about each other.

“Are you close?” his question was directed to you, not caring about pretending anymore. “Y/N,” he called your name clearly when you didn’t reply. “Please tell me you’re close…”

“Y-yeah…” you replied shyly and he inhaled sharply.

“Touch your clit,” he instructed after a broken moan. “I’m touching my tip too.”

You whined, using your other hand to draw circles on your clit and your orgasm washed over you. You came with a sob and your body tensed while he murmured profanities and grunted behind you.

“Fuck…” you murmured when you were able to see straight again, still feeling your pussy clenching.

“Fuck…” he agreed, trembling slightly.

“I think it didn’t work…” you admitted.

“Yeah,” he agreed again, and you could feel that he was still palming himself. “I’m still hard as fuck…”

“What do we do?” you whined, tiredly.

“Let’s keep going,” he proposed with no hesitation, still moving his hand behind you. “One more should do…”

“Or…” you trailed off.

“Or?”

“We could…touch each other?” you spoke barely above a whisper but he heard you loud and clear because he turned around and sat up quickly.

“What?!” he asked.

You groaned, embarrassed. “Forget it, it was dumb…”

“No, no, it’s not dumb,” he cooed, patting your back.

You shook your head.

“Y/N, please,” he sighed. “I heard you the first time, but I want to be sure I got it right. You want to touch me?”

You still refused to reply or look at him.

“Because…I would like to touch you…” he confessed quietly. “I would like that a lot…”

Slowly you sat up and made eye contact with him. Your cheeks were burning just like the rest of your body, due to arousal and embarrassment. 

“Really?” you asked equally quietly.

“Really,” he said. “So what’s the plan?”

You took a deep breath in before speaking again.

“We can help each other,” you bargained, trying not to lose focus as you watched a drop of sweat travel down his neck. “We’re friends, after all. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Yangyang gulped.

“Yeah, we’re just friends,” he spoke shakily. “Just two friends affected by a dumb plant.”

“Exactly,” you nodded, breathing heavily. “It’s normal to be horny. It’s the plant. It’s not because we like each other.”

“Totally. It’s not like I imprinted on you when we first met or something,” he mumbled, fixated on the way your lips moved.

“…What?”

“What?”

“Did you just say you imprinted on me?” you frowned.

He averted his gaze, clearing his throat. “I said it’s not like I did,” he replied. “Meaning I didn’t.”

“Okay,” you conceded, sitting closer, “then it should be fine, right?”

“I think it would be more than fine,” he assured you, though he sounded strained, not fine at all. He closed his eyes when he felt your fingertips on his jaw.

 “What do you wanna do?”

“Is there anything you’re not comfortable with?” you asked.

 “Anything you wanna do’s okay,” he said, locking eyes with you.

You lowered your hand so it was now on his neck. “Anything?” you purred, applying only a little bit of pressure and watching in awe how he rolled his eyes and groaned.

“A-anything…” he repeated.

“But what do you want to do?” you asked, allowing your hand to go lower, using your nails to tease him over the material of his shirt sticking to his chest.

“Y/N…”

“Is there nothing you wanna do to me?” you teased, lifting his shirt a little and placing your palm on his lower belly. You were also looking for reassurance. You would feel like a loser if you were thirsting over your friend when he hadn’t fantasized about you once.

“I–I don’t know,” he lied. If only you knew all the things he wanted to do to you.

“Hm…I guess you don’t want this enough,” you sighed, starting to withdraw your hand but he quickly grabbed it and placed it right on his crotch. “Y-yangyang?!”

Instead of replying, he forced your hand on him harder with a strangled moan and you felt something hard twitching right against your palm before even more wetness spread on the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Oh, my god, Yangyang…” you whispered in disbelief, gently pulling your hand away to inspect the sticky substance on it. “Just like that?”

He didn’t even try to deny it. “I…uh…I’ve been exposed to the plant for too long, I guess…Sorry…”

“Are you feeling better–Oh!” you gasped when he suddenly pulled you on top of him.

“Are you kidding me?” he groaned, hiding his face in the crook of your neck while hugging your waist. “I just came in my pants, feeling the warmth of your hand while looking at you– I’ve never been hornier!”

How he admitted to it so openly made you blush. “Should we do more, then?”

You felt him nod. And before you could ask what was next, the muscle of his thigh flexed under you, causing you to let out a surprised gasp. He tensed at the sound, holding his breath and waiting patiently for your next move. Only when you moved your hips and he heard you moan weakly did he dare to exhale.

“Y/N, are you–? Oh god, oh god…” he breathed out against the sensitive skin of your neck, in utter disbelief because there was no way the woman of his dreams was riding his thigh. 

“Is this okay?” you asked nervously, slowing your hips down just in case you were doing something he wasn’t comfortable with, but he whined, holding your hips and guiding them to move again.

“It’s so okay,” he quickly assured you. “Use my thigh all you want…”

“J-just once, okay?” you told him, but you were actually trying to convince yourself.

He didn’t reply, too busy bouncing you on his leg and getting lost in your little sounds.

“Hmm?” he asked absentmindedly, placing a wet kiss on your collarbone.

“I s-said this is– Yangyang!” you grabbed onto his shoulders for support and arched your back, feeling like you were about to explode.

“Yeah?” he breathed out, nibbling on your earlobe.

“I’m cumming–” you barely managed to whisper.

“Do it,” he urged you, helping you move faster, “do it, do it, c’mon, it’s gonna feel really good, baby, c’mon–,” he stopped mid-sentence and his eyes widened when he finally witnessed the beauty of having you cum right in front of his eyes. He had imagined it plenty of times, but he could never picture it right; he had no idea your voice could get this high-pitched, that your pupils would dilate this much, that you would feel this hot and wet on top of him…God, all his fantasies were wrong, so wrong, they could never do you justice. He had to memorize every single detail and never get off to anything else.

You were still coming down from your high when you felt a pair of warm lips on yours, soft and gentle. Yangyang was kissing you. Your platonic friend who stole your fries and called you a bro.

With a sudden yelp, you pushed yourself off him, standing up.

“What?!” he asked.“What’s wrong?”

“You kissed me!”

“...Yeah, and?”

“You can’t do that!” you exclaimed.

“You said we should help each other out!” he reminded you.

“Yes, but as friends,” you explained like it was obvious. “Kissing is too…intimate for friends.”

Yangyang stared at you with wide incredulous eyes. “Kissing is too intimate but humping my leg isn’t?”

“Yangyang, you don’t just kiss anyone!”

“You don’t fuck yourself on just anyone’s thigh either!”

“Right, but–,” you sighed and decided to come out clean. “I worry that if I kiss you I could end up feeling a bit confused.”

He looked up at you and listened attentively. “Confused how?”

“Like,” you tried to organize your thoughts while your body was burning up and a hot guy with a raging boner in front of you. “What if I like it?”

He stared at you, waiting for an explanation of how that would be a problem, scoffing when you didn’t elaborate. “God forbid you have a good time in a consensual sexual experience,” he mocked. 

“I mean, what if I like it too much?” you clarified.

“What does that even mean?” he groaned, accommodating his hard-on and trying to understand the words coming from your mouth.

You were starting to get frustrated too. How could you explain properly that you were scared of falling even more for him while you were clenching at the view?

“Just no kissing, okay?” 

He frowned and looked at your lips, mulling it over. He didn’t understand, nor did he like it, but he agreed regardless. “Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he finally said. “Anything else is off limits?”

“Do you have a condom?”

He shook his head.

“Then we should probably avoid penetration,” you said. “I’m not on the pill or anything like that so…”

“Right,” he gulped. “Let’s be careful. Anything else?”

You tried hard to think of more things, but your brain was foggy and everything was too hot, too suffocating.

Yangyang was feeling it too and he didn’t have the patience to wait for your entire list of forbidden things. “Y/N, my dick hurts,” he spoke with difficulty, pressing his palm on his crotch to relieve the discomfort. “Just tell me!”

You gulped and pressed your thighs together. “I uh…can’t come up with anything right n-now…thinking is h-hard…”

“Y/N, please,” he whimpered between elaborate breaths.

“How about you name something and I tell you if it’s okay or not?” you proposed. It should be easier this way.

“Can I fuck your tits?” he asked immediately.

You gasped and felt yourself get wetter at the suggestion. Yes, you told him to say what he wanted, and you knew he was blunt, but he had never been this blunt.

“What? Too intimate for you?” he asked half-seriously, half-mockingly.

“N-no, it’s…it’s fine,” you replied. “But how do we do it?” you asked nervously.

“Lie down,” he instructed with no hesitation, like he had thought about this too many times. 

You complied and got back on the bed, nervously lying down and waiting to see what he would do next. 

He slowly climbed on top of you and you felt your heart beat so hard and fast you worried it would break through your ribcage and escape your body. Yangyang was on top of you. Sweating, desperate for you, and his eyes looked at you with something you could have easily confused with love in a different situation. 

With shaky hands he grabbed the hem of your shirt and started pushing it up, pausing when his fingertips touched the lace of your bra. He held his breath and his eyes met yours silently asking ‘Is this okay?’ and continuing when you bit your lip and nodded.

He barely grazed over your covered breasts when he finished wrinkling the fabric of your shirt near your neck and his dick twitched excitedly and the view of your hardened nipples under the thin material of your bralette.

“Y/N…” he whispered just to savor your name, humping your stomach in an almost unperceivable way. “Can I?”

“Just do it,” you whined, maybe wanting this more than him.

He nervously placed his hands on top of your breasts and let out a needy moan when he finally felt your softness and warmth in his palms. “M-maybe I’ll cum like this,” he commented. And he was totally serious because he was leaking again.

“No!” you said too quickly. “You said you’d fuck them,” you whined, arching your back and pushing your tits further into his touch, making him squeeze harder.

“Yeah? Want that?” he asked breathily, delighted at how quickly you nodded. “Shit, okay, okay…” he said, letting go of your chest and standing up to step out of his pants and boxers.

You used the opportunity to quickly take off your shirt and bra, too eager to be used and very pleased to see him freeze when he looked back at you and saw you half undressed. His jaw hung open and he just couldn’t look away. After all this time stealing glances at your clavicle and fighting his boner every time you hugged and he felt your boobs against his chest, you were willingly showing them to him. And he was about to fuck them.

“F-fuck…” he breathed out, straddling your chest. “Can I really?”

“Yangyang,” you whined, hitting his arm. “How many times do I have to say it?”

“One more?” he asked hopefully.

You rolled your eyes, but you were getting impatient enough to humor him. “Will you fuck my tits or not, Yangyang?”

He groaned, grabbing his base firmly to stop what wanted to come out. He took a deep breath in and positioned his member between your breasts, letting out a shaky breath when it slid on your skin, trapped between your boobs as you pushed them together.

“Shit, Yangyang…” you gulped when the tip of his cock got a little too close to your chin. “You’re kinda…”

“What?” he half-moans, sliding back and forward slowly.

“Big,” you whisper in disbelief.

He snorts, continuing the slow rhythm of his hips. “Perks of being a werewolf,” he shrugged. “This is average…”

“No way,” you laugh too, gasping when he pinched one of your nipples playfully.

“I swear,” he said half-laughing, half moaning as he accelerated his movements slightly. Everything felt so relaxed and fun with Yangyang. 

So natural.

“Mm…Bet you would fill me up so good…” you commented absentmindedly, actively daydreaming at this point.

He halted, looking at you with wide eyes. “What did you just say?!”

“That you…would fill me up good?” you repeated, blinking up at him.

Oh, so he heard you well. 

“Y/N, are you trying to kill me?” he asked.

“It was just a thought,” you mumbled.

“...Are you thinking about it right now?”

“Can you blame me?” you asked back. Of course you were. How could you think about anything else in this situation?

He groaned, thrusting hard. “Yeah? Do you imagine me inside of you moving like this?”

A soft moan escaped your mouth and you nodded, feeling droplets of hot precum land on your chest.

“Fuuck…it’s a shame we can’t,” he honestly lamented, rutting faster. “I really wanna…”

“Yangyang,” you called his name, your hands leaving the sides of your boobs to reach for his hands. “Yangyang, wait.”

He whined, looking at you in panic. What if you changed your mind and wanted nothing to do with him? He would cry. He would cry all night.

You pushed him lightly, making him stand up next to the bed as you sat up, and oh my god he really was about to cry because it looked like this was the end, until…

“Hold them,” you instructed, placing his hands where yours were before, on each side of your breasts. “Push them together, okay?” 

He nodded. Anything you said as long as you didn’t actually make him stop. He shuddered when one of your hands caressed his hip bone, and then he noticed where your other hand was going…all the way down your stomach.

“Oh god,” he gasped, finally understanding the new position with him standing in front of you and you sitting on his bed, touching yourself. He bent his knees slightly to slide his cock back where he wanted and his eyes rolled back when he pressed your breasts together so tight that his tip released a tiny stream of white liquid. “ I love your tits so much,” he blurted out, resuming his chase for pleasure.

“Is that why you’re always staring at them?” you teased, tapping your clit.

“Y-you knew?” he asked nervously. Fear flooded his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Instead, he thrust up faster, moaning uncontrollably.

“You d-don’t even try to hide it,” you reply, moving your fingers faster.

“I didn’t mean to stare,” he whined. “They’re just pretty.”

“Yeah?”

“Y-yeah, so pretty–Oh!” he moaned loudly when he felt something hot and wet touching his tip. You had opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, meeting his dick when he thrust up. “Y/N, fuck, fuck, are you for real?!”

You licked around the tip messily and that was all the answer he needed, he threw his head back and rutted against your soft skin once, twice–

“Oooh…Nngh….shit…” he moaned, letting go of your breasts and trying to focus his gaze as he looked down and saw you wrapping your lips around his tip, sucking softly. “You’re so fucking hot…”

When the taste of his cum invaded your tastebuds you felt another orgasm hit you and you moaned around him, while your thighs shook.

“I love you.”

You let go of his dick and looked up at him. His eyes met yours as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“What did you say?” you croaked.

He seemed to snap out of it, blinking and pulling his hand back, taking a step back as well. “Nothing,” he said quickly.

You tilted your head. You heard him say he loved you. It was his voice…

“Are you sure?”

“Yep,” he said, looking away awkwardly.

… Maybe the plant had hallucinatory effects too?

The tingling sensation in your center told you it wasn’t enough, and that immediately made you go back to solving the issue of why you both were half undressed in the first place. “Yangyang, I think I need more…”

“Oh, thank god. I’m still hard,” he sighed, kneeling in front of you and leaning in for a kiss before he quickly stopped himself, remembering the limits you had set. “Sorry, I forgot.”

You licked your lips and looked at his face. He wasn’t as red as before, and you also weren’t feeling as feverish as before. “I think it’s wearing down though. Maybe we just need one more.”

He nodded. “We can just rub one off quickly.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, lowkey hoping he meant you would do it to each other and not to yourselves.

“Or…” he hesitated.

“Yes?” you asked eagerly.

“We could– uh… I could…” he gulped, losing his confidence as his mind was getting clearer. “I dunno how to explain but, can I try something?”

“Sure,” you breathed out.

“Can you take your pants off?” he asked timidly, surprised when you did it immediately.

“Now what?”

His chest rose and fell heavily. He pushed you back until you were on your back on the bed again and he positioned himself between your legs pressing your bodies together and groaning at the wetness of your panties now sticking to his dick too.

“Oh, yes,” you moaned, arching your back and pushing your hips closer to his. “Best idea you’ve ever had–”

“No, I meant–wait,” he interrupted you and stilled your hips. He lifted the hem of your panties right where your inner thigh met your center, just enough for him to slide his dick under them and rest it directly on your wetness.

You gasped, grabbing his arm quickly. “Yangyang!”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he assured you. “I won’t put it in,” he explained, placing one of his hands on top of where his dick was nested, pressing down but leaving enough space for him to thrust his hips. He did it once, showing you how the little trap he had made with your panties and his hand allowed his cock to slide against your clit deliciously. “Like t-this…okay?”

You nodded quickly. “Y-yes, yes–Oh!”

He sighed in relief, sliding against you more earnestly. “Feel good?”

“So good,” you admitted, opening your legs wider for him. “Wish you were inside though–” you blurted out.

His cock twitched and he groaned, snapping his hips harder. “Yeah? I d-don’t think friends do that haa…ah…”

You shook your head, moving your hips to match his rhythm. “They don’t,” you breathed out.

“I don’t think they do anything we’ve done in the past hour either,” he continued.

Again, you shook your head. “B-but it feels so good…”

“Yeah? You like your friend’s cock rubbing your pussy?”

You were about to reply when Yangyang’s harsh thrusts got a little out of control and you felt something poke your entrance just enough to have you clenching around it. You moaned and he quickly pulled away.

“S-sorry, it slipped,” he said anxiously. “W-we can stop–”

“Again,” you begged, trying to pull him back on top of you.

“Y/N, we can’t–”

“Just a little,” you bargained.

He stared at you, dumbfounded, and then shook his head, as if he was trying to wake himself up. “We’re not w-wearing protection and–”

“Just the tip,” you insisted.

He groaned. “Y/N–”

“Please?”

You stared into each other's eyes, knowing damn well that you were not thinking clearly, but not caring at this point. Silently, he grabbed his dick and placed it right where you wanted it, pushing just enough for you to engulf his tip and have both of you moaning wantonly.

“This is a t-terrible idea,” he mumbled, pulling out and pushing back inside, driving himself (and you) crazy. It wasn’t enough, yet it was so good.

“It’s okay–ah!” you tried to excuse your poor choices. “We’re j-just ooh…helping each other out–AH!”

“Uhuh,” he nodded, building up his rhythm and switching between thrusting the tip in and sliding against your clit. 

“Fuuuuck– You’ll be ascended to best f-friend for this, Yangyang–”

“Oh, hell nah. Fuck that.”

Just like that, Yangyang’s lips were on yours again. This time very on purpose.

“Y-yangyang w-wait,” you whined, though you were responding to his kiss too actively, sucking on his bottom lip eagerly. “Told you it’s gonna b-be confusing if we–oh!”

“Drop the act, Y/N,” he said between kisses. “Are you telling me you see me as a friend after all this?”

You whimpered. Was it that obvious?

“We’re not fucking friends,” he panted. “You’re not gonna push me deeper into the friendzone when your pussy is trying to suck me in like this.”

“B-but you said–”

“I lied, okay?” he confessed. “Yeah, I imprinted on you. No, I don’t wanna be just friends. And yeah, I know kissing you will make things even more confusing,” he admitted, rubbing and pressing his cock on your clit harder to have your eyes roll back as he continued kissing you. “I want to confuse the fuck out of you until you think you like me back. I don’t give a fuck if it’s unfair. I like you too much–no. I love you –oooh, fuck, fuck,Y/N!”

Your heart skipped a beat at the confession and a dumb smile formed on your lips and then he moaned and grabbed both your hands, positioning them around the base of his cock and holding them there as something started to grow.

“Oh my god…,” you sat up with difficulty staring in disbelief. “Is that your knot?”

He nodded wordlessly, applying pressure on your hands to signal you to squeeze there, hard. When you did he closed his eyes, his body tensed as he spilled spurts of cum on your center, smearing it all over your folds.

You kept squeezing and massaging the inflated base as he whimpered and thrust his hips up weakly. Finally, cum stopped coming out and he sighed.

You didn’t even have time to worry about your still pending orgasm, too preoccupied with processing his earnest confession, and by the time you reacted, he had already crawled down and taken your panties off.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “I made a mess…” caressing your labia and ironically making the sticky mess worse. “Lemme clean it,” were his last words before he slid his tongue between your folds.

Your hands quickly grabbed onto him, pulling his hair to get him closer to where you needed him the most. “Yes, Yangyang, please–”

“What the fuck you taste amazing,” he mumbled against your center, licking incessantly. 

“That’s your own c-cum,” you laughed, interrupted by a moan when he tried to talk while still attached to your  pussy.

“Mixed with yours,” his words were muffled as he moved his lips and tongue lazily to collect as much wetness as he could. “So good together…”

“Yangyang,” you spoke shakily, pulling harder to get him to your clit which he seemed to be avoiding on purpose. “N-not there, here…”

He kept lazily lapping at your inner labia, ignoring your instructions. “I’m helping you clean, like a good friend.”

“No, no, no, please make me cum,” you begged shamelessly. Your climax was so close you could taste it but he was playing with you.

“I dunno,” he detached himself from you and rested his face on his palms, locking eyes with you. “Making you cum with my mouth is too intimate for me…”

“You fucking–AH!” your complaint was cut short when he flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue just once, making you squirm desperately. “Yangyang, come on!”

“But what if you get confused?” he teased, swirling his tongue around your clit slowly.

“P-please, please, please, oh!” you sobbed when he stopped again.

“You sound confused, Y/N,” he cooed, kissing your inner thigh. “ Wouldn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Fuck our friendship!” you finally yelled. “I like you. I like you so much. Kiss me, eat me out, fuck me as much as you want, please just do something…Oooh!”

He finally shoved his face between your legs and engulfed your clit with his lips, sucking, allowing you to guide his head however you wanted. He hummed in delight at your confession, determined to make you cum harder than ever to reward your honesty.

“Yes, yes, yes, Yangyang, don’t stop, please, right there ah, ah, ah!” you beg, thrusting your hips up.

You felt him chuckle and it was enough for you to reach your orgasm with a silent scream, arching your back and shaking while he lapped your juices eagerly.

And then you felt a sharp pain in your inner thigh.

“AH! What the fuck, Yangyang!” you exclaimed, sitting up rapidly and catching him with his teeth sunk into your soft skin. 

His eyes widened at your reprimand, and he switched to licking the wound in a comforting manner.

“Why did you bite me?!”

“Got carried away. Sorry…”

Well, at least he didn’t cum inside you, just like you had agreed on. But you hadn’t considered that you two may end up tied up together in other ways.

“Yangyang…does it mean we are–?”

He looked at your panicked eyes and then back at his mark on your body.

“Maybe? I…I don’t know?” he said nervously. “Normally we bite our mates on their neck or somewhere around that area.”

“Then this one probably doesn’t count, right? We aren’t bonded or anything,” you lied to yourself. You knew it made zero sense that a mating bite only worked in a specific area of your body, but you were in no condition to process that you were bonded for life after your not-so-platonic crush ate you out in a house full of werewolves.

He caressed the wounded area lovingly. Something that felt weirdly like electricity traveled from his fingertip which was in contact with your skin all over his body, making him shudder and inhale sharply. He was 89% sure you were bonded, but he ignored his instinct to give you the answer you wanted. 

“I guess it doesn’t work if it’s not on your neck.Maybe.”

“Okay, cool,” you sighed, letting your body finally relax now that the horniness was gone.

“Cool,” he echoed, biting his lip nervously. “So uhh…Wanna grab something to eat?”

“That pizza place down the street?” you suggested tiredly.

“Sure,” he said, standing up and grabbing his pants. He said the next part carefully. “It’s a date.”

You smiled to yourself, trying not to laugh at his nervousness. “Yeah, it’s a date.”

Yangyang could have died a happy man right there and then. He got dressed quickly and helped you sit up and get dressed too. He looked at your exhausted face and he found it endearing, especially with how it lit up after he gave you a soft peck.

You both would deal with the failed botany project later and the fact that everyone in the house probably knew what you did.

…And with the very real bite on your thigh that you both refused to acknowledge for now.

[buibleboo]

Of Secrets and Salves

pairing: mark lee x lee donghyuck/haechan

genre: bl, romance (?), fantasy

word count: 13k

summary: Donghyuck, a commoner with hands calloused from years of healing, crossed paths with the stranger under the weight of a shared, silent understanding. What began with an offer of salves and fleeting words bloomed into something far more delicate—a bond neither fully comprehended but both would carry, quietly, within them.

 The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the port market of Emeria. The bustling docks had quieted down slightly, with fewer people walking around now that most of the merchants had packed up for the night. But for Donghyuck, the work never seemed to end. 

 He was wiping down the counters of the small apothecary stall his family ran when he heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching. A glance over his shoulder confirmed who it was—Youngho, the high-ranked knight he’d known for years. Donghyuck’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his face neutral. He wasn’t sure why he always felt a little nervous around Youngho, but he couldn’t deny the respect he had for the older man. 

 "How’s the stall?" Youngho asked, leaning against one of the wooden supports of the stall. 

 "It’s fine," Donghyuck replied casually, though his mind was elsewhere. The reality of running a small business, with no significant wealth to speak of, weighed heavily on him. The herbal salves and medicines they sold were just enough to make ends meet, and his parents, though wise and experienced, were starting to show their age. They were tired, and Donghyuck knew it was only a matter of time before they couldn’t work as hard anymore. He needed something more—he needed to be able to provide for his family. 

 "Still thinking about the Championship, huh?" Youngho’s voice brought Donghyuck out of his thoughts. 

 Donghyuck hesitated before nodding. The Championship, an annual tournament where commoners could fight for the chance to be knighted, was a brutal event. It was bloody, dangerous, and often resulted in death, but it was the only opportunity for someone like Donghyuck—a commoner with no noble blood—to gain the prestige and title he needed to support his family. 

 "I need to do this, Youngho," Donghyuck said quietly, his voice firm but filled with an undercurrent of desperation. "If I can win, I can provide for my family. I can finally stop worrying about how we’re going to survive when my parents can’t work anymore. And my younger siblings need me." 

 Youngho looked at him with a mixture of concern and sadness in his eyes. The older knight had known Donghyuck for many years and had watched him grow up in the port market, tending to the stall while secretly harboring dreams of becoming a knight himself. Donghyuck wasn’t the best when it came to swordsmanship, but he had grit. He had determination. And it was that determination that kept pushing him forward, even when others told him it was too dangerous. 

 "I understand," Youngho said after a long pause. "But the Championship... it’s too dangerous, Donghyuck. You’re not ready. You’re still not as skilled as the other competitors. You could die out there, and I can’t stand the thought of that happening to you." 

 Donghyuck clenched his fists, the familiar burning desire to prove himself flaring up inside him. "I’m getting better. I train every day, with or without your help. You’ve taught me a lot, Youngho, and I know you’ve tried to protect me from the dangers, but I can’t live in fear anymore. I have to do this." 

 Youngho’s gaze softened, but there was a firmness in his words. "I know you want to help your family, but there’s more than one way to do that. You don’t have to risk your life. You don’t have to fight in that tournament." 

 Donghyuck shook his head, his determination unwavering. "The Championship is the only way. It’s the only way I’ll get the respect I need. I need to prove myself to everyone." 

 Youngho opened his mouth to protest, but then he seemed to think better of it. He sighed, his shoulders slumping in resignation. "Just... be careful. I’ve seen enough of those who have come and gone. Don’t make this a path you regret." 

 ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚ 

 The next evening, after closing the stall, Donghyuck made his way to the clearing just outside the market, where he and Youngho had been secretly training for the past few months. The clearing was hidden behind thick trees, far enough away from the city that no one would spot them. 

 Donghyuck stood still for a moment, gathering his thoughts as he gripped the hilt of his practice sword. He wasn’t the strongest, but he had speed, and he had learned to use his agility to his advantage. He wasn’t going to win by sheer strength alone; it was his quick reflexes and mind that would give him the edge. 

 Tonight, Youngho would push him harder than usual. Donghyuck had learned to expect this—a harsh training session that would test his limits. Youngho had been trying to make him understand that brute force wasn’t everything. Donghyuck had to be smart about this. He had to learn how to outmaneuver his opponents, how to anticipate their moves. 

 "Are you ready?" Youngho asked, his voice calm but authoritative. 

 Donghyuck nodded, his eyes steely with determination. "Let’s do it." 

 “Remember, Donghyuck,” Youngho said, his voice low but firm, “it’s not just about strength. It’s about reading the opponent. Know when to attack and when to defend. And more importantly, stay light on your feet.” 

 Donghyuck nodded, sweat already starting to bead on his forehead despite the cool evening air. His grip on the practice sword tightened, and he crouched slightly, preparing himself for the sparring session. 

 Youngho made the first move, his sword flashing forward in a swift, controlled thrust. Donghyuck barely managed to block the attack, the force of Youngho’s strike pushing him back a few steps. The impact stung his hands and arms, but he held firm. 

 “Good,” Youngho’s voice was steady as he quickly followed up with a series of rapid strikes, each one forcing Donghyuck to move faster, his muscles burning with the effort to keep up. 

 Donghyuck sidestepped, narrowly avoiding a slash aimed at his ribs. His feet dug into the earth as he pivoted, feeling the natural rhythm of the ground beneath him. But before he could regain his balance, Youngho was already on him, his sword coming down in a vertical arc. 

 Donghyuck’s eyes widened. There was no way he could block it head-on. 

 He ducked low, the blade missing by inches, and rolled to the side, his bare feet scraping against the dirt as he sprang back to his feet. His breath came quicker now, but his mind was sharp, adrenaline coursing through him. He wasn’t the best—yet—but he was getting better. 

 “Don’t let your feet get heavy,” Youngho’s voice rang out again, cutting through Donghyuck’s thoughts. “You have to move like water. Be fluid. Think fast.” 

 Donghyuck didn’t respond. He couldn’t afford to speak right now. He had to focus. 

 The two circled each other, the crackling of the dry grass underfoot the only sound between them. Donghyuck’s feet shifted, his body low, watching Youngho’s every movement like a hawk. He was waiting for the right moment. 

 Then, Youngho struck again, aiming for Donghyuck’s side with a quick lunge. But this time, Donghyuck was ready. He twisted his body at the last second, catching Youngho’s sword with his own in a block that reverberated up his arms. He slid to the side, using the momentum to bring his sword up in a sharp, controlled arc toward Youngho’s exposed flank. 

 The older knight barely managed to parry the blow in time, their swords clashing with a harsh clang that sent a jolt through Donghyuck’s arms. His heart hammered in his chest, but he didn’t back down. He’d felt it—his strike had connected in a way that made Youngho falter, if only for a moment. 

 “Better,” Youngho said, his voice softening with approval. “You’re improving.” 

 Donghyuck grinned despite the sweat pouring down his face. His feet were aching from the constant movement, but the small victory kept him pushing forward. He wasn’t just fighting for a title, for knighthood—he was fighting for his family’s future. 

 Youngho came at him again, more aggressive this time. His sword moved with blinding speed, a blur of steel aimed at Donghyuck’s chest. Donghyuck barely had time to react, ducking low and using his momentum to spring forward, catching Youngho’s sword with his own. They grappled for a moment, their swords locked, each trying to overpower the other. 

 Donghyuck’s breath came in ragged gasps as he focused on his footing, pushing his body against Youngho’s strength. He couldn’t match the older knight in raw power, but he was quicker—he had to be. 

 With a burst of speed, Donghyuck shifted his weight, pushing forward and breaking the lock. Before Youngho could recover, Donghyuck struck, his wooden sword aimed at Youngho’s side. 

 But just as the sword was about to make contact, Youngho’s blade intercepted it with a crash. He knocked Donghyuck’s weapon out of his hands, sending it flying across the clearing, and before Donghyuck could react, Youngho’s sword was pressed gently against his throat. 

 Donghyuck froze, his chest rising and falling with every breath. 

 “You’re getting better,” Youngho said again, though there was no amusement in his voice, only a quiet pride. He lowered his sword, giving Donghyuck a moment to catch his breath. “But you’re still too eager. You still don’t know when to stop.” 

 Donghyuck wiped the sweat from his brow, his heart still racing. “I need to win, Youngho. I have to.” 

 Youngho studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “You need to be ready. The Championship isn’t just about strength. It’s about knowing when to strike and when to hold back. If you don’t learn to control your impulse, you won’t last long out there.” 

 Donghyuck nodded, the weight of his words settling in his chest. He knew Youngho was right. He had to be patient, even if his every instinct screamed at him to push forward, to fight, to win. 

 “Let’s do it again,” Donghyuck said, standing tall despite the exhaustion in his limbs. His eyes were fierce, his spirit unbroken. 

 Youngho gave him a wry smile. “You’re not getting any easier to teach.” 

 Donghyuck grinned back. “I’m not stopping until I can fight like a knight.” 

 And so they continued, under the fading light of the evening, Donghyuck’s resolve growing with every strike, every parry, every lesson learned. The Championship was coming, and Donghyuck was determined to be ready—no matter what it took. They spent the next few hours in the clearing, going over moves, blocking attacks, and practicing techniques. Donghyuck’s arms were sore, his body aching from the repetitive strikes and parries, but he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop. He had to get better. He had to be ready for the Championship. 

 As the days passed, whispers began to circulate around Emeria. Rumors spread like wildfire, and Donghyuck couldn’t escape the talk. 

 "Did you hear? Blood witches have attacked the nearby islands," one of the local fishermen murmured as he passed by Donghyuck’s stall one morning. 

 "Not just islands—towns, too. I heard there was a village south of here that’s been completely wiped out. They say the witches came on wyverns, burning everything in sight," another customer added, looking worried. 

 Donghyuck’s heart sank at the mention of the blood witches. He had heard stories of their attacks before—how they spread destruction wherever they went, using their dark magic to control wyverns and unleash terror. The idea of them getting closer to Emeria sent a chill down his spine. But it was more than that—he had the nagging feeling that the witches’ movements weren’t just random. 

 They were planning something. 

 Later that day, Donghyuck met Youngho by the docks. The knight’s expression was grave, his usual calm demeanor replaced by something darker. 

 "I’ve been hearing the same rumors," Youngho said quietly, looking out at the horizon. "The witches are getting bolder, and it’s only a matter of time before they hit the mainland. They’re already coming closer to the southern shores. The kingdom has been on high alert." 

 Donghyuck clenched his fists, his mind racing. His goal was the Championship, but now, with the witches drawing closer, he couldn’t ignore the threat they posed. 

 Youngho turned to face him, his eyes narrowed. "If you do this, Donghyuck... if you join the Championship... if there even is a Championship after this, you might not make it. There’s too much danger from the witches. The kingdom might need us to fight back." 

 Donghyuck didn’t answer right away. His heart felt heavy with the weight of his decisions. The Championship was his ticket to becoming a knight, but the witches... they were a threat to everyone. 

 "I’ll do whatever I can," Donghyuck said finally, his voice firm with resolve. "But I’m not backing down. I’m going to fight, whether it’s for the Championship or to protect my people." 

 Youngho looked at him long and hard, as though weighing his words. "Then I’ll train you harder. You’re going to need it." 

 And with that, the two of them turned toward the horizon, knowing that the storm was coming—and the path ahead would demand everything they had. 

 .‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚. 

 The sun blazed down upon the port of Emeria, casting its harsh, unrelenting rays over the bustling market. The saltwater air carried the scents of freshly caught fish and seaweed, while the sound of merchant carts, clanging metal, and fishermen calling out their daily bargains filled the air. Ships swayed gently at their docks, their sails fluttering in the warm breeze, and the constant motion of life around the port seemed to harmonize with the rhythm of the ocean. 

 On this particularly bright afternoon, the sun seemed unforgiving, its heat pressing down on everyone in the area. Donghyuck was busy walking through the marketplace, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of his apothecary shop and the remedies he had yet to prepare for the day. As he passed the fisherman's stalls, something caught his eye—a figure hunched over near a boat, holding their hands to their face, wincing in pain. 

 Curious, Donghyuck approached, weaving through the market crowd, his eyes focusing on the man who stood with an almost unnatural stillness, his skin an odd shade of red that seemed out of place in Emeria. It wasn’t the usual tan that the people here had from spending their lives beneath the sun—it was a harsh, painful-looking sunburn, the skin on his arms and neck a deep, angry red, and his face flushed with discomfort. His clothes were simple but fine, clearly the attire of someone who had traveled far from home. 

 Donghyuck furrowed his brows in concern. It was clear that the man was not from around here; even in the midday sun, no one from Emeria suffered burns like that. In fact, the people here were practically immune to sunburns, their skin accustomed to the unrelenting rays. The stranger's discomfort was alarming, and Donghyuck couldn’t ignore the compassion that stirred inside him. 

 “Excuse me, sir,” Donghyuck called out gently as he neared, adjusting the strap of the small leather bag slung over his shoulder. “It looks like you're in pain. Are you alright?” 

 The man—whose features were sharp and striking—looked up, his gaze momentarily confused, as though the world around him was spinning in a haze. His pale skin was an almost ghostly contrast to the vibrant, sun-kissed faces of the fishermen around him. His hair was a dark, unruly mess that framed his face in soft waves, and his eyes, a deep shade of brown, were distant, clearly not focused on anything in particular. 

 He blinked as though waking from a trance and then quickly smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m fine. Just a little… sunburned,” he replied, his voice slightly strained. 

 Donghyuck took a step closer, observing the man more carefully. Despite the attempt at a reassuring smile, the pain was evident, and his posture was stiff, almost as if he were trying to avoid any movement that might make his burns worse. 

 “I’m Donghyuck,” he said, extending a hand with a friendly smile. “I manage my family’s apothecary shop here in the market. I can help with that burn—got just the right salves to soothe it. They work like a charm.” 

 Minhyung looked down at Donghyuck’s extended hand for a moment before shaking it gently, his grip firm yet cautious. “Minhyung,” he said softly, introducing himself with a modest bow of his head. "Thank you, Donghyuck. I’d appreciate any help you can offer." 

 Donghyuck reached into his bag and pulled out a small jar of thick, herbal ointment. It was a salve his mother had taught him to make, with a combination of cooling aloe, soothing lavender, and a few other herbs that helped with sunburns. He twisted the top off and extended it to the man. 

 “Here, just apply this to the affected areas. It’ll soothe the burns,” Donghyuck said, his voice gentle yet firm, with a sense of professionalism that he had picked up from helping at his parents’ apothecary. 

 The man gingerly took the jar, but before he could start applying the salve, Donghyuck paused. "You shouldn’t be out here in this heat without protection,” he added, looking at the stranger’s discomfort with a frown. "It’s not safe for someone who's not used to it." 

 The Minhyung didn’t say anything at first, his gaze shifting to the busy port behind them. He looked as though he was about to respond, but instead, he simply nodded and began to apply the salve onto his neck and forearms, wincing slightly at the touch. 

 Donghyuck watched him for a moment, noting the way the man seemed to relax as the cool ointment took effect. There was a quiet gratitude in his expression, but Donghyuck couldn't shake the sense that something was off. His curiosity piqued even more, but he didn’t press further. 

 “Are you new to Emeria?” Donghyuck asked casually as he took a small step back. "I’ve never seen you around before." 

 The man looked up from his arm, clearly considering how much to say. His eyes seemed to linger on Donghyuck, as though he were gauging whether or not to trust him. For a moment, Donghyuck could see that there was something guarded about him. 

 "Yes," the Minhyung said finally, his voice soft. "I’ve just arrived. I’m… traveling. From far away." His eyes flitted toward the bustling market, and his lips curled into a faint smile again, though it still seemed somewhat strained. "It’s my first time in Emeria. Quite different from where I come from." 

 Donghyuck smiled at the comment. “Emeria has its charm. The sea, the market, the people—they’re all... unique, aren’t they?” His voice was warm, friendly, trying to make the stranger feel at ease. 

 The man’s smile faltered slightly before it returned. "Yes. I’m starting to see that," he said quietly. 

 Donghyuck gave a small nod, letting the silence settle between them for a brief moment. The man finished applying the salve, and Donghyuck could see the redness of his skin starting to fade, the painful flush gradually giving way to a more natural, relaxed tone. 

 “You’re in good hands,” Donghyuck said with a smile, gesturing to the jar of salve. "If you need anything else, my apothecary is just up the street. You can find me there anytime." 

 Minhyung nodded in thanks, his eyes a little softer now. He stood up straight, wincing just slightly before he placed the jar back into Donghyuck’s hands. 

 “Thank you, again,” he said. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary, before he turned to walk away, his steps slower now, though no less steady. 

 “Safe travels,” Donghyuck called after him, his voice carrying the warmth of his hometown. 

 As the stranger disappeared into the crowd, Donghyuck couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of intrigue. There was something about him, a hidden depth, something he couldn’t quite place. His pale skin and discomfort under the sun, his quiet demeanor—it was all so different from what Donghyuck was used to, and yet, it piqued his curiosity. 

 But for now, there was work to be done. With a shrug, Donghyuck made his way toward his family’s stall, still thinking about the traveler, wondering where he had come from and what stories lay behind those tired eyes. 

 .‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚. 

 Days passed since Donghyuck's chance meeting with the stranger, and while life in the port of Emeria continued its busy routine, his thoughts occasionally returned to Minhyung. There was something about the traveler that lingered in his mind—his pale skin, his quiet yet intense presence, and the way his eyes seemed to hide a lifetime of stories. Donghyuck couldn’t help but feel that there was more to Minhyung than met the eye, but the man had been polite and reserved, offering little to no insight into who he truly was or where he had come from. 

 Donghyuck continued his work at his family’s apothecary, helping those who passed through the port, treating wounds, cuts, bruises, and ailments caused by the harsh weather and salty air. Yet, in the back of his mind, he kept wondering about Minhyung.

 But life moved on, and soon, a week passed before their paths crossed again. 

 It was an afternoon much like the one when Donghyuck first met Minhyung—hot, bright, and full of energy from the fishermen and marketgoers. Donghyuck had just finished restocking his family's booth when he spotted the familiar figure in the distance. Minhyung stood by one of the docked ships, speaking with one of the fishermen, but Donghyuck immediately noticed the slight wince on the traveler’s face as he lifted his arm to gesture toward something. His movements were stiff, though he tried to hide it with a forced smile. 

 Curiosity tugged at Donghyuck, and before he could stop himself, he found his feet moving toward the traveler once more. This time, he wasn’t sure if he was worried or just intrigued. 

 "Minhyung!" Donghyuck called out, his voice carrying over the sounds of the market. 

 Minhyung turned at the sound of his name, his expression immediately shifting to a neutral one, though his eyes seemed to soften at the sight of Donghyuck. 

 "Oh, it’s you again," he said, offering a slight nod, the faintest hint of a smile appearing at the corners of his lips. "I didn’t expect to see you today." 

 Donghyuck gave a friendly wave, walking closer. "You look like you’re in pain. That burn still bothering you?" 

 Minhyung rubbed his neck, looking a little sheepish. "I suppose I’m still not used to the heat. The salve helped, but… the sun is unforgiving." He winced again, and Donghyuck could see that the man’s skin was still tender, despite the previous relief the ointment had given him. 

 “Here, let me help you again," Donghyuck offered, his voice soft but insistent. “I have more salve back at my shop. You don’t want to risk another burn.” 

 Minhyung hesitated for a moment before nodding, though there was something reluctant in his demeanor, as though he didn’t want to accept more help. 

 "Thank you," he said quietly. "I’ll follow you." 

 They walked through the bustling market together, side by side. Donghyuck noticed that Minhyung didn’t seem to mind the hustle and bustle of the crowd, but the tension in his shoulders was evident. He was careful with his movements, and his eyes darted here and there, as though constantly scanning the surroundings. 

 They reached the small apothecary stall, where Donghyuck’s mother, an experienced herbalist, was tending to a customer. She looked up as they approached and smiled warmly, though her eyes quickly assessed Minhyung’s condition. 

 "Burns, my dear?" she asked, her voice calm but kind. 

 Minhyung gave a slight bow of his head. "Yes, thank you. The sun… it’s been troublesome." 

 Donghyuck’s mother nodded. "Sit down for a moment, then. Donghyuck, help him with the salve." 

 As Minhyung settled onto the low wooden stool by the stall, Donghyuck retrieved the jar of salve from the shelf and prepared to apply it once more. As he gently began to rub the cool ointment onto Minhyung’s arms, he couldn’t help but notice the slight tension in the man’s expression. His features were sharp and handsome, but there was an edge to him—a quiet intensity that Donghyuck could sense even in the stillness of the moment. 

 "Are you always traveling alone?" Donghyuck asked, trying to break the silence with a casual tone. "You seem... well, far from home." 

 Minhyung’s gaze shifted away for a moment, and for the first time, Donghyuck caught a flicker of something darker in his eyes—something guarded, something secret. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. 

 “I... prefer to travel alone,” Minhyung replied, his voice steady but carrying a note of finality. “I don’t like to burden others.” 

 Donghyuck nodded slowly, picking up on the subtle clues. There was more to the man’s story than he was letting on, but Donghyuck wasn’t one to press. Instead, he simply focused on applying the salve, doing what he could to make the man more comfortable. 

 “Everyone has their reasons,” Donghyuck said quietly, his tone respectful. "I understand. It can be hard to rely on others." 

 Minhyung met his gaze for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. He didn’t respond immediately, but there was something about Donghyuck’s words that seemed to resonate with him. 

 "Maybe," Minhyung murmured, more to himself than to Donghyuck. "Maybe you’re right." 

 After a brief silence, Minhyung stood up, moving slowly to avoid further strain on his still-sore limbs. He handed the jar of salve back to Donghyuck with a soft, appreciative smile. 

 "Thank you," Minhyung said, his voice quieter than before. "I didn’t realize how much I needed help until now." 

 Donghyuck smiled back, his usual warmth returning. "It’s nothing. It’s what I do." 

 As Minhyung turned to leave, Donghyuck called out, "If you need anything else, don't hesitate to come by." 

 The traveler paused, turning back to face him. His eyes lingered on Donghyuck for a moment, an unreadable expression crossing his face. Then, as if the weight of his thoughts had shifted, he gave a small nod. 

 "I will," Minhyung said, before disappearing back into the busy streets. 

 Donghyuck stood for a moment, watching the man retreat into the crowd. There was something intriguing about him, something that sparked curiosity in Donghyuck’s chest. But for now, he was left to wonder just who Minhyung truly was and what he was running from. 

 .‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚. 

 The midday sun cast its golden glow over the bustling port market of Emeria, where laughter and chatter blended with the calls of merchants peddling their goods. Amidst the lively chaos, Donghyuck stood behind the small wooden counter of his family’s apothecary stall, meticulously organizing jars of herbs and small vials of salves. His practiced hands moved with ease, but his mind lingered on the pale traveler he had met earlier that morning. 

 The small stall was tucked neatly between a colorful fishmonger’s setup and a fruit vendor’s cart, its shelves lined with neatly labeled jars of crushed herbs, oils, and powders. The air around it carried the faint, calming scent of lavender and eucalyptus, a stark contrast to the sharp tang of salt and fish wafting from the nearby docks.<br />

His younger siblings had gone to the nearby shore, promising to stay within sight, leaving him alone to tend the shop. He sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair from his damp forehead. The humidity clung to the air, making the heat feel heavier, and he longed for a cold drink of water. 

 As Donghyuck replaced a cork stopper on a small vial of peppermint oil, a familiar voice broke through the noise of the market. 

 “Donghyuck! You're looking particularly serious today—what’s got you so focused?” 

 He looked up to see Yeri, her bright smile lighting up her face as she weaved her way through the crowd toward him. She was dressed in a breathtaking gown of deep emerald green, its bodice embroidered with golden filigree shaped like curling vines and blossoming flowers. The skirt flowed around her like rippling water, the light fabric catching the breeze as she moved. Her hair was swept into an elegant half-up braid, adorned with delicate jade pins that sparkled like drops of dew. Around her neck hung a pendant—a polished opal stone encased in gold—that seemed to glow faintly in the sunlight. 

 Donghyuck grinned at her approach, already feeling a sense of ease. Yeri had been his best friend for as long as he could remember, their bond stronger than any differences in status. She had always been more interested in exploring the world outside her family’s grand estate than adhering to the formalities expected of her. 

 “Yeri,” he greeted, leaning on the counter with a teasing smirk. “What brings you to our humble little stall today? Don’t tell me you’ve run out of excuses to avoid those fancy tea parties.” 

 Yeri rolled her eyes playfully as she reached the stall. “I’ll have you know I’m here for an actual reason. My mother sent me to find something for headaches. Asked me to di it myself, too. She’s been complaining all morning, and I figured you might have something useful.” 

 Donghyuck chuckled, grabbing a small jar of crushed willow bark from the shelf behind him. “Willow bark tea should do the trick. Brew it, let it cool, and have her sip it slowly. I’d say you should add some honey to sweeten it—your mother doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy bitterness.” 

 Yeri took the jar with a grateful smile, her gaze lingering on her friend as he turned back to organize the remaining jars. “You know, you’re too good at this,” she said, leaning against the counter. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re secretly a healer in disguise.” 

 “Ha! If only. You’d be surprised how often people come by expecting miracles,” Donghyuck replied with a shake of his head. “But enough about me. How’s life in the grand halls of your estate? Or should I ask, how’s your very exciting schedule of embroidery and etiquette lessons?” 

 “Boring as ever,” Yeri sighed dramatically. “Honestly, if I could trade places with you for a day, I’d do it in a heartbeat. At least you get to talk to interesting people out here.” 

 Donghyuck tilted his head, his expression turning thoughtful. “Speaking of interesting people… I did meet someone a few weeks ago. A traveler. Pale skin, not from around here. He had sunburns—bad ones.” 

 Yeri raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Sunburns? Here in Emeria? That’s rare. You’re sure he wasn’t just some unfortunate tourist who didn’t know any better?” 

 “He said he was a traveler,” Donghyuck replied, crossing his arms. “His name’s Minhyung. He’s been helping the fishermen at the docks. Seems nice enough, but there’s something… different about him. Can’t quite put my finger on it.” 

 Yeri leaned closer, resting her elbows on the counter. “Different, huh? What do you mean? Was he acting strange?” 

 “Not exactly,” Donghyuck said, his brow furrowing as he tried to find the right words. “It’s more the way he carries himself. He’s polite and soft-spoken, but there’s this… air about him. Like he’s seen and done more than he lets on. And the way he looks—pale skin, sharp features—it’s not what you’d expect from a typical traveler.” 

 Yeri tapped her chin, intrigued. “A mysterious stranger with sunburns. Sounds like the start of a story. Did he say where he’s from?” 

 “No, and I didn’t ask,” Donghyuck admitted. “I didn’t want to pry, but now that I think about it, it’s strange he’s helping fishermen of all things. Doesn’t seem like he belongs here. Probably from Arrendyll or Carran.” 

 “Maybe he’s running from something,” Yeri suggested with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Or maybe he’s a noble in disguise, trying to experience life as a commoner.” 

 Donghyuck laughed at the idea, shaking his head. “A noble? Out here, getting sunburned while hauling fishnets? Highly unlikely. Besides, he’s too quiet for someone used to grand halls and feasts.” 

 Yeri smirked. “You never know. Nobles can be full of surprises. Case in point: me.” 

 “Well, if he is some runaway noble, I’ll be sure to let you interrogate him,” Donghyuck said with a grin. “In the meantime, he’s just a traveler who needed help. I gave him some salves for the burns, and that’s that.” 

 “Hmm,” Yeri said, her tone teasing. “You’re awfully invested in this ‘Minhyung’ for someone who claims it’s nothing.” 

 “Don’t start,” Donghyuck groaned, though his smile betrayed his amusement. “I’m just being a decent human being. You know, helping out someone in need.” 

 “Of course, of course,” Yeri said, waving him off with a playful wink. “But if you see him again, maybe you should get to know him a little better. Who knows? He might have a story worth hearing.” 

 Her curiosity lingered, but she didn’t press further. Instead, her tone grew more serious as she glanced around the market. The usual liveliness felt different, subdued under the weight of fear. 

 “Donghyuck,” Yeri said softly, leaning in closer. “Have you heard the latest about the witches?” 

 He froze for a moment, his hand pausing mid-reach for a jar. “More rumors?” 

 “Not just rumors.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The witches. They’ve been seen closer to the border. The council is in a panic, and father says Emeria is their first target.” 

 Donghyuck’s stomach churned. He gripped the edge of the counter, his mind racing. “We’re the closest. Of course, they’d come here first.” 

 Yeri nodded, her expression shadowed with worry. “They said without hellfire… Donghyuck, we can’t stop them. No one can.” 

 The thought was unbearable. Donghyuck glanced toward the horizon, where the sea met the sky in a serene line, as if mocking the chaos that loomed. “We can’t just sit and wait to be overrun,” he said firmly. “There has to be something we can do.” 

 Yeri placed a hand on his arm, her touch light but grounding. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. But what? No one knows where the hellfire is.” 

 “Maybe someone does,” Donghyuck said, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him. “Maybe there’s something we’re missing. Someone who’s seen more than we have.” 

 Yeri studied him for a moment, her sharp mind working through his words. Finally, she sighed. “You might be right. But until then…” Her voice faltered, and she shook her head, as if pushing away the thought. 

 Donghyuck reached for her hand, his fingers brushing hers briefly. “We’ll figure it out. We have to.” 

 Her eyes softened, and she gave him a small, sad smile. “Stay safe, Donghyuck. ” 

 “You too,” he replied. 

 As she stepped back into the crowd, her gown swirling gracefully around her, Donghyuck felt the weight of her words settle heavily on his shoulders. The blood witches were coming, and with them, the kind of darkness that could shatter everything he held dear. 

 .‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚. 

 The bright sun hung heavy in the sky, casting a shimmering haze over the busy port of Emeria. Fishermen called out to each other, vendors shouted the prices of their goods, and the chatter of the market created an almost festive hum that echoed across the docks. Donghyuck had just finished helping a customer at his family’s apothecary stall when he noticed something unusual—a sudden tension in the air, as if the wind itself had become too still. 

 It was a subtle change at first, but Donghyuck’s instincts kicked in. He frowned and looked up, scanning the crowd, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. The noise of the market carried on, but something felt wrong. 

 Then, all at once, the air shattered. 

 A piercing scream cut through the marketplace, followed by a loud roar that shook the ground. People screamed, scrambling in every direction, as monstrous figures descended from the sky. Giant wyverns—dark green and ominous—swooped low, their wings creating gusts of wind strong enough to knock over crates and barrels. The beasts’ riders, cloaked in blood-red robes, appeared like shadows from the abyss, their eyes gleaming with malice. 

 Blood witches. 

 The crowd erupted into chaos as the wyverns landed, their riders dismounting in swift, practiced movements. The witches wielded dark magic, their hands crackling with power. One of them raised their arm, and a bolt of black lightning shot out, hitting a nearby building and sending it up in flames. 

 Donghyuck’s heart pounded in his chest. The air felt thick with the stench of danger, and his mind raced as he tried to process the situation. He had heard of blood witches—dark sorcerers locked up away from Erithrea now free and seeking to destroy everything in their path—but to see them in person was something entirely different. They were every nightmare he had ever imagined. 

 Before he could make sense of the scene, he was shoved aside by the frantic crowd, sending him tumbling into a stack of crates. He tried to stand, but his legs were unsteady, his heart racing as the sound of destruction continued to fill the air. 

 His breath hitched in his throat when he spotted one of the wyverns soaring overhead, its rider scanning the streets, looking for victims. The witch’s eyes met his, and Donghyuck froze, feeling the intensity of her gaze. There was no mercy in those eyes—only hunger. 

 She raised her hand, and a pulse of dark magic swirled around her. Donghyuck barely had time to react before a bolt of shadow surged toward him. The blast of energy hit the ground beside him with a violent force, sending him sprawling backward. His heart hammered as he struggled to get up, but his vision blurred, his senses overwhelmed by the chaos. 

 "Get up, Donghyuck!" 

 A voice—familiar, yet urgent—cut through the noise. 

 Donghyuck’s head snapped up, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw Minhyung rushing toward him through the sea of panicked people. His eyes were wide, filled with something Donghyuck couldn’t place. He wasn’t running away, nor did he look like someone who was simply trying to escape. Minhyung was moving toward the danger, not away from it. 

 Before Donghyuck could say anything, Minhyung grabbed him by the arm, pulling him to his feet with surprising strength. His grip was firm, unshakable. 

 "We need to move. Now," Minhyung said, his voice low and steady, though the tension in his words was palpable. 

 Donghyuck’s mind was racing. Why was Minhyung here? Why was he helping him again? But there was no time for questions. The blood witch’s wyvern was circling overhead, and she had already locked onto them. 

 "Come on!" Minhyung urged, pulling Donghyuck with him. The crowd scattered in all directions, but the two of them cut through the chaos, heading toward a narrow alleyway where the buildings would shield them from the wyvern’s sight. 

 As they ran, Donghyuck could feel Minhyung’s pace quicken, his strides purposeful. They darted between market stalls and vendors, weaving through the throngs of people. Donghyuck’s heart was still racing, his mind fighting to process everything that was happening, but the sheer urgency in Minhyung’s actions kept him moving. 

 They reached the alley just as the wyvern’s rider took another swing at the fleeing people. The massive beast screeched above them, the sound deafening as it circled back for another pass. Donghyuck could hear the crackling energy in the air as the witch prepared another spell. 

 Minhyung pulled Donghyuck behind a stack of crates, his breathing steady despite the frantic situation. They both crouched down, out of the witch’s sight—at least for now. 

 “Stay quiet,” Minhyung whispered. 

 Donghyuck nodded, barely breathing as he tried to steady his racing heart. His eyes were locked on Minhyung, who seemed eerily calm in the face of the destruction around them. His hand still held Donghyuck’s arm, his fingers warm against the chill that had begun to settle in. 

 They waited in tense silence, the distant sounds of screams and fire filling the air. 

 After what felt like an eternity, the wyvern’s screech faded. The witch had moved further down the street, no longer focused on them. Donghyuck let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling. He had never been this close to death, and the adrenaline from the encounter made his head spin. 

 Minhyung didn’t move immediately, but his eyes scanned the area carefully. There was a moment of stillness before he turned to Donghyuck. 

 “You okay?” Minhyung’s voice was soft, but the concern in it was unmistakable. 

 Donghyuck nodded, though he couldn’t quite find the words to express the mix of fear and gratitude he felt. Minhyung had saved him, but how? He didn’t see Minhyung use any magic. There was no fire, no lightning, no signs of power—just his quick thinking and calm demeanor. 

 “I… I think so,” Donghyuck replied, his voice a little shaky. He looked at Minhyung again, trying to piece together the puzzle. “You… you saved me. How did you—” 

 Minhyung gave him a faint smile, but there was something shadowed in his eyes. 

 “Just lucky, I guess,” he said quietly, his tone not matching the gravity of the situation. Then, with a quick glance around, he stood up and pulled Donghyuck to his feet. 

 “We need to move again. The witches will come back.” His voice was firm now, no longer soft or hesitant. 

 Donghyuck didn’t question him this time. He followed Minhyung without a word, the lingering questions about the man’s true identity hanging heavy in his chest. 

 But for now, survival was all that mattered. 

 As they hurried through the streets, keeping low, Donghyuck couldn’t help but wonder about Minhyung. There was something more to this traveler than met the eye—something far greater than the simple traveler he had appeared to be. But, for now, all Donghyuck could do was trust him. 

 He had no idea who Minhyung really was, but in that moment, Donghyuck knew one thing for certain: the stranger had just saved his life. 

 .‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚. 

 The sun was setting over the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the small apothecary stall where Donghyuck and his younger sister, Hyein, were tidying up. The market was quieter now, the bustling crowds having thinned as the evening crept in. Donghyuck had been quieter than usual, his mind far away in the wake of the blood witches’ attack a couple days ago. The witches just left on their own after terrorizing the port market, several bodies wounded up and a lot more injured. Though the market was beginning to return to normal, the weight of what had happened lingered, as did the anxiety in his heart. 

 Hyein, ever the curious one, had noticed her brother’s distant mood as he carefully wrapped bundles of herbs. The young girl, only twelve, moved closer to him and tugged at the sleeve of his worn tunic. 

 “Hyuckie,” she said, her voice soft but insistent. “You’ve been quiet all day. Are you still thinking about what happened at the market?” 

 Donghyuck looked down at her, his expression softening. He didn’t want to burden her with the thoughts swirling in his head, but it was hard to keep it all inside. 

 “It’s just… a lot, Hyein,” he said, sighing. “I never thought something like that would happen here, you know? It’s like we were in another world for a moment, a world full of... darkness.” 

 Hyein tilted her head, her dark eyes reflecting the sunset as she pondered his words. “Darkness? You mean those witches? They were so scary. Everyone says they’re from Darkwell, but no one ever talks about it.” 

 Donghyuck froze, his hands stilling as he turned to look at his younger sister. His heart skipped a beat at the mention of Darkwell. It was a name that had always carried whispers of fear and mystery. The people of Emeria—of all the other kingdoms—had heard rumors about the sixth kingdom, but no one truly knew the truth. 

 “The Kingdom of Darkwell,” Donghyuck repeated softly. “It’s a place full of... evil, they said. The kind of evil that no one really talks about, not in detail. They say the people there are cruel, heartless. That they don’t care for anyone but themselves.” 

 Hyein’s eyes widened. “But... is it really that bad? Why does no one go there?” 

 Donghyuck hesitated. The truth was, he didn’t know much more than what everyone had been told—bits and pieces, tales spun by fearful mouths. He always tried to stay away from such talk. But now, in the quiet of the evening, it felt different. The attack, the whispers in the wind about the blood witches and their connections to Darkwell... it made everything feel more real. 

 “There are rumors, Hyein,” Donghyuck began, his voice low. “Some say that the royals of Darkwell are even crueler than their people. That they rule with terror. They’ve got armies of monsters—creatures no one dares speak of, and they say some of them are... not even human.” 

 Hyein shivered. “Monsters? Like what?” 

 Donghyuck frowned, rubbing his face as if the words were difficult to say. “Like shadow beasts. And... things that look human but aren’t. Things with red eyes that haunt you in your dreams.” 

 He glanced at his little sister, noticing how the color drained from her face. He hadn’t meant to scare her, but the truth of it all felt so heavy. There was always talk of how evil Darkwell was, but he never thought about it much. Not until now. The witches were bad enough, but if they were connected to the same place... it all made sense, in a twisted way. 

 “Do you think they’ll come back? With more monsters?” Hyein asked, her voice trembling a little as she clutched her brother’s sleeve. 

 Donghyuck shook his head quickly, trying to reassure her. “I don’t know. It’s hard to say. But... we’re near the border, and no one knows what the witches really want. If they do, they’ll probably go after the other kingdoms first. Carran, Frostford, other kingdoms... they’ve got the resources to fight back. But us? We’ve got no defenses like that.” 

 The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken fears. Neither of them knew what would come next. It was a strange feeling, the sense of waiting for something terrible to arrive and not knowing how to stop it. 

 “Maybe that’s why the other kingdoms are so secretive,” Donghyuck murmured, more to himself than to Hyein. “They don’t want people to know how close the darkness really is.” 

 Hyein’s brow furrowed, her young mind working through his words. “Do you think the people of Darkwell are all evil?” 

 Donghyuck paused, considering. He didn’t want to paint anyone as entirely evil, but the rumors painted a grim picture. “I think... there are probably good people there. But they’re trapped. Trapped by the evil in their kingdom. It’s not the same as how we live here.” 

 Hyein nodded thoughtfully, though it was clear she didn’t fully understand. “So... if Darkwell is so bad, what’s the point of all this?” She gestured around them at the market, the docks, their home in Emeria. 

 “Maybe it’s to remind us to protect what we have,” Donghyuck replied quietly, his gaze drifting to the horizon. “We can’t let the darkness take over. We have to keep the light burning.” 

 A long silence fell between them, the weight of the world pressing down as the last rays of sunlight dipped beneath the horizon. The world beyond their little stall was changing, and they both felt it, even if they didn’t fully understand it yet. 

 “I wish I could do something, Hyuckie,” Hyein whispered, her voice small. 

 Donghyuck smiled softly and brushed a lock of hair from her face. “You’re already doing something, Hyein. You’re keeping me grounded. You’re the light I need to see through all this darkness.” 

 Hyein smiled back, though it was tinged with worry. “Promise me you’ll be careful?” 

 “I promise,” Donghyuck said quietly, but in his heart, he wasn’t sure. The weight of the world was closing in, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep the promise to his sister. The shadows were coming, and soon, the people of this kingdom would have to face them head-on 

 .‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚. 

 The days following the blood witches' attack on the port market had been a blur of chaos and fear. Donghyuck couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had changed, that Emeria—the kingdom that had always felt safe and bright—was no longer the same. The market, once bustling with life, had grown quieter. People spoke in hushed tones, casting wary glances at the horizon as rumors of the witches’ advancing army spread. 

 Donghyuck had done his best to return to normal, tending to the apothecary stall with his usual precision, though his thoughts were never far from the attack. He’d seen Minhyung again, and though the traveler had kept his distance after saving him, there was an unspoken connection between them that lingered in Donghyuck’s mind. He’d been impressed by the man’s courage and the way he stood firm. It was something Donghyuck admired, especially after the harrowing attack they’d witnessed together. 

 It was late in the afternoon when Youngho appeared at the apothecary stall. Youngho was dressed in his usual attire—a worn but well-kept knight’s armor, his long blue cloak trailing behind him as he moved through the market. There was a heaviness in his step, a tension in his posture that Donghyuck immediately noticed. 

 “Donghyuck,” Youngho greeted him with a solemn nod. 

 “Hey, Youngho,” Donghyuck replied, trying to mask the concern he felt. “What brings you here? I didn’t think knights had much time for herbs and salves.” 

 Youngho gave him a brief, tired smile. “Not for salves, I’m afraid. I’ve got a mission.” 

 Donghyuck raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “A mission? A serious one?” 

 Youngho hesitated for a moment, glancing around as if ensuring no one was listening. “Yes. You could say that.” 

 Donghyuck leaned forward, intrigued. “What is it? What’s going on?” 

 Youngho sighed deeply, rubbing his hand over his face. “You’ve heard about the witches, right? Their attack on the market…” 

 Donghyuck nodded grimly, his stomach twisting at the memory. “I was here. But I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. We’re supposed to be safe here in Emeria.” 

 Youngho looked at him with steely resolve. “Emeria was never going to be safe. Not with the witches on the move. That’s why I’ve been sent on this mission.” 

 Donghyuck’s heart quickened. “A mission to stop them?” 

 “In a way,” Youngho replied. “I’m heading to Carran, the Kingdom of Eternal Autumn. The last Hellfire Pool is located there.” 

 Donghyuck’s brow furrowed. “Hellfire Pool? I’ve heard of it, but… I thought the Hellfire Pools were all dried up. Aren’t they dangerous?” 

 “They are,” Youngho confirmed. “But that’s where the black fire is said to originate. The only fire capable of killing the witches.” He paused, glancing around again before lowering his voice. “There’s one last pool of black fire left in the kingdom of Carran. And I’ve been ordered to retrieve it.” 

 Donghyuck’s eyes widened as the weight of his words settled over him. The black fire—a force so powerful, so dangerous, it was rumored to be the only thing capable of ending the blood witches’ reign of terror. He had heard of the Hellfire Pools from older traders and adventurers who spoke of them in whispered tones. But the fact that there was still one left—that was something he hadn’t expected. 

 “So, you’re going there? To Carran?” Donghyuck asked, a little breathlessly. 

 Youngho nodded. “Yes. I’ll need to bring the fire back to Emeria. We don’t have many options left.” 

 Donghyuck’s heart raced. The mission sounded perilous, dangerous—something only the bravest knights would undertake. But Youngho wasn’t just a knight. He was a friend. And Donghyuck could feel the weight of his responsibility. If anyone could complete the task, it would be him. 

 “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Donghyuck asked, his voice betraying his concern. 

 Youngho gave him a small, wry smile. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I? The witches are coming, and we need that fire.” 

 Donghyuck thought about the days leading up to this, the fear that had gripped him ever since the attack. “So, what’s the plan? How do you get the fire?” 

 “From what I know,” Youngho explained, “the Hellfire Pool in Carran is guarded by some of the fiercest creatures you can imagine. We’ll need to be careful. The royals in Carran control the fire, but only the Hellfire Guardians—a group of ancient protectors—can unlock the pool’s power.” 

 “Guardians?” Donghyuck asked, confused. 

 “Ancient beings bound to protect the fire,” Youngho explained. “I’ve heard stories about them—massive creatures, some say they’re dragons, others say they’re just living shadows of flame. Either way, they’re not something you want to cross.” 

 Donghyuck’s eyes widened at the thought. “Sounds like a suicide mission.” 

 “I’m not going alone,” Youngho assured him. “I’ll be accompanied by a small group of trusted knights, including some from Carran. It won’t be easy, but it’s our only hope. We’ll bring the fire back, no matter the cost.” 

 Donghyuck nodded slowly, the weight of the situation sinking in. He admired Youngho’s courage, but the thought of him facing such danger made his stomach turn. He had always known Youngho to be brave and loyal, but this mission—retrieving the last black fire—felt like too much to bear. 

 “What about the people here? What happens if you’re gone too long?” Donghyuck asked, a knot in his throat. 

 Youngho smiled faintly. “The kingdom will survive, Donghyuck. People like you and the others here are what will keep Emeria going, and our royals are just as powerful as the others. I may not be here, but you all still have a role to play. Protecting this place. Protecting your family.” 

 Donghyuck swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I’ll keep the apothecary running. But… be careful, Youngho. Please.” 

 “I will,” Youngho promised, his tone serious. “And if anything goes wrong…” He hesitated, then looked Donghyuck in the eye. “Don’t let the witches win. Hold the line.” 

 The sun had just begun its descent, casting long shadows over the port market, when Donghyuck caught sight of Youngho again. He had been stewing over their conversation all day, the uncertainty and fear gnawing at him. He knew he couldn’t just sit back and let the knights carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. There was a way he could help, a way to prove that he wasn’t just a commoner, managing his parents’ apothecary stall. He had something more to give. 

 With a determined stride, Donghyuck approached Youngho, who was preparing to leave the market. His armor gleamed under the soft evening light, his expression grim and unreadable. Donghyuck couldn’t ignore the unease in his friend's eyes. It was clear the weight of the mission was pressing down on him. 

 “Youngho!” Donghyuck called out, his voice a mix of urgency and resolve. 

 Youngho paused, glancing back, a bit surprised to see Donghyuck rushing toward him. “Donghyuck, what are you doing here? You should be resting, getting ready for the night.” 

 Donghyuck didn’t waste a second, his words spilling out faster than he intended. “I want to go with you. To Carran. On your mission. I’m not going to sit around while the witches are attacking. I can help.” 

 Youngho frowned, clearly taken aback by the sudden declaration. “You’re crazy,” he said, his voice laced with disbelief. “It’s too dangerous, Donghyuck. You’re a healer, not a fighter. You don’t even know what you’re asking for.” 

 “I know exactly what I’m asking for,” Donghyuck shot back, his voice steady but firm. “I can fight, Youngho. You’ve seen me with a sword. I’ve been training for years. Maybe I’m not as skilled as you or the other knights, but I’m not helpless. And this mission…” He hesitated for a moment, his voice quieter now, “...this is my chance. My chance to prove I can do more than just run an apothecary stall.” 

 Youngho shook his head, his brow furrowing in concern. “You’re not ready, Donghyuck. This isn’t just a skirmish at the market. We’re going into Carran’s heart, into the depths of their fire-guarded lands. You could die. You could be torn apart by those Hellfire Guardians.” 

 Donghyuck's heart raced at the mention of the Hellfire Guardians, but he refused to let fear show on his face. “I know it’s dangerous. That’s why I need to go. If I stay here, I’ll just be another person hiding behind the walls, waiting for something to happen. I want to do something, to fight for our home. To fight for Emeria. And…” He took a step closer, locking eyes with Youngho. “You have high enough rank to have me join as a commoner. If I join a successful mission with the knights, they'd probably consider me in the Championships, right?” 

 Youngho was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable as he studied Donghyuck. The younger man’s gaze was unwavering, his determination clear in his eyes. But there was a flicker of something else there too—a deep, quiet fear, one that wasn’t about himself but about his friend. 

 “Donghyuck, this is too much. I promised your parents I would look after you. I can’t take you into something like this,” Youngho said quietly, his voice filled with hesitation. “I’m not just worried for your safety—I’m worried about your future. You’ve got a life here. A family. You can’t risk it all for something that might not even work.” 

 Donghyuck didn’t flinch. He had heard that argument before, when he first wanted to pick up a sword or go beyond the stall to see the world. But this time, his heart was set. His family would be safe if they retrieve the fire. “I’m not asking you to take care of me anymore, Youngho,” he said, his voice hardening with resolve. “I’m asking to join you. I want to fight. And if I don’t go now, I’ll always regret it. The witches are coming. They won’t stop until they’ve destroyed everything we have. We need every sword we can get, and I’m willing to be one of those swords.” 

 Youngho looked at him, his brow furrowed in concern, as if he was seeing Donghyuck in a new light. The younger man had always been stubborn, but now there was a fire in him—a fire Youngho recognized as the same drive that had made him a knight in the first place. It was the same fire that had kept him going when he first began his own training, when he’d been told he wasn’t enough, when people doubted him. 

 He wasn’t just the boy who ran the apothecary stall. 

 He was a fighter now. 

 “You’re not going to back down, are you?” Youngho said with a sigh, the fight draining out of him. He had been trying to protect Donghyuck, trying to keep him safe from the dangers that lay ahead, but it was clear that his friend had already made up his mind. The resolve in his eyes was something he couldn’t argue with. 

 Donghyuck shook his head. “No. I can’t. Please, Youngho. Let me go with you. Please. Let me prove myself.” 

 For a moment, Youngho stood there, conflicted. He cared deeply for Donghyuck, and the thought of sending him into danger gnawed at him. But deep down, he knew that Donghyuck wasn’t just some boy anymore. He had the heart of a knight—he just needed to find it. 

 “Alright,” Youngho said, his voice softening. “But if you get hurt, I’m holding you responsible.” 

 Donghyuck grinned, “You won’t regret this, Youngho. I promise.” 

 The older knight gave a half-smile, shaking his head, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed his feelings. “You’d better not,” he said, clapping Donghyuck on the shoulder. “We leave in three days at dawn. You’d better get some rest. You’re not going to be able to get any sleep for the next few days.” 

 Donghyuck nodded, feeling a surge of determination. “I’ll be ready.” 

 As Youngho turned to leave, Donghyuck stood there for a moment longer, the weight of what he was about to do settling over him. He wasn’t sure if he was ready, but he knew one thing for sure—this was his chance. The chance to prove not only to Youngho, but to himself, that he was capable of more than he had ever imagined. The witches were coming. And Donghyuck wasn’t going to just stand by and watch. 

 .‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚. 

 The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and wildflowers as Donghyuck ventured into the forest clearing just a few miles outside the market. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the grassy expanse. His steps were quick, determined—his mind set on gathering the herbs he needed to make the salves. But as his feet pressed deeper into the underbrush, his thoughts wandered back to Minhyung. 

 The man, the traveler who had helped him days ago, had saved him without hesitation.. The image of Minhyung’s gentle hands, his caring smile, and the way he helped Donghyuck lingered in his mind. It wasn’t just gratitude that drove him, though. It was a strange pull, a sense that he wanted to do something for Minhyung, something that might ease his burdens. The thought of leaving for Carran, facing the horrors of the blood witches, felt daunting, but as he knelt by the edge of the clearing, a quiet resolve settled within him. He would make the salves to give to Minhyung. If he ever needed them, Donghyuck would know he had something to offer. 

 The clearing before him was dotted with wild herbs, many of which he knew by heart—calendula for its healing properties, comfrey for bruises and sprains, and aloe for burns. These were the herbs that Donghyuck had used many times in his life, the ones he had seen his parents work with when they treated customers at the apothecary stall. They were simple but effective, just like him. 

 He bent down, carefully plucking the herbs, his hands moving with practiced precision. The blades of grass beneath his fingers were soft, the flowers fragrant, but Donghyuck barely noticed any of it. His focus was solely on the task at hand. He needed to gather as many as he could before nightfall. The journey to Carran was imminent, and the thought of not being fully prepared left a gnawing feeling in his chest. 

 But as he reached for another bunch of comfrey, his hand brushed against a sharp thorn, and a sharp sting raced up his arm. He winced and instinctively pulled his hand back, looking at the small cut on his palm. The red line of blood beaded there for a moment before it was absorbed by the dirt. 

 He didn’t mind. The pain was nothing. He had dealt with worse before. 

 Donghyuck wiped his hand on his trousers and kept going. He was determined to gather enough herbs for the salves—not just for the people in the market, but for Minhyung, whose name had somehow found its way into his thoughts more than once since their last meeting. 

 Another thorn scraped across his wrist. He flinched but kept moving, now more aware of the cuts and scrapes accumulating on his arms and hands. They were nothing serious, just minor injuries, but each one stung like a reminder of the danger that awaited them. 

 He didn’t care. 

 Minhyung had saved him. He had given Donghyuck the chance to continue his life, to stand tall when everything felt uncertain. Now, he would return the favor in the only way he knew how. With each herb he collected, Donghyuck’s resolve grew. He didn’t even notice how his palms had started to bleed freely, the blood mixing with the earth beneath him. He was going to help Minhyung. It didn’t matter that he was about to leave for Carran, that the journey would be perilous and life-threatening. Minhyung had helped him when he needed it, and this was Donghyuck’s way of giving back. 

 He worked until the basket he had been filling was overflowing with herbs—stems of mint, bunches of chamomile, and more comfrey. His hands were covered in small cuts and scratches now, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing the pale scars from years of work in the apothecary. The sun was lower now, casting a soft orange glow across the clearing. But Donghyuck didn’t stop. He worked, his focus unwavering, pushing the pain of the cuts out of his mind. 

 Finally, when the basket could hold no more, Donghyuck took a step back. His hands were raw, the blood drying and flaking in the open air. His skin stung where the cuts had been, but he barely noticed it. His heart was light, the weight of everything that had been weighing on him—the impending mission, his worries about his family, the blood witches—fading, if only for a moment. 

 He had done it. He had gathered the herbs, and now he would make the salves for Minhyung. He smiled, though it was a quiet one, barely noticeable. It wasn’t just about healing wounds—it was about connection. About showing someone that they mattered. Even if he never saw Minhyung again, Donghyuck would know that he had done something to help him. 

 He made his way back toward the market, the basket of herbs in his arms, ignoring the bloodstains that marked his hands. The night was coming, and with it, his journey to Carran. 

 But before he left, he would make sure Minhyung had what he needed. For the traveler, for the man who had been his unknowing protector, Donghyuck would do this one last thing. 

 His heart beat a little faster as he thought of the journey ahead. It would be a hard road, but he wasn’t afraid anymore. He had a purpose, and the strength to face whatever lay ahead, even if it meant more cuts and bruises. 

 .‧₊˚ ☁︎ ☀︎ ༉‧₊˚. 

 The night was calm, the only sound the gentle lapping of waves against the wooden pylons that held the docks of Emeria in place. A soft, cool breeze rustled through the air, carrying with it the briny scent of the ocean. The docks were quiet now, much quieter than they had been earlier in the day when it was bustling with fishermen preparing their boats and merchants haggling over fresh catches. Now, the streets were empty, bathed in the dim glow of lanterns. 

 Donghyuck stood at the edge of the dock, his feet close to the water’s edge. The salty air stung his skin, mixing with the faint, lingering ache of the cuts on his hands. He gripped the small woven basket tightly, his fingers still raw but nothing compared to the thoughts that circled in his mind. He had waited for this moment, steeling himself with the knowledge that once he said his goodbyes, there would be no turning back. 

 The traveler, Minhyung, was seated on a crate near the edge of the dock, his face partially obscured by the shadow cast from the nearby building. He was looking out at the dark horizon, lost in his thoughts. Donghyuck took a step forward, each movement measured and slow. The words that had been floating on his tongue felt heavy, like they might weigh him down if he spoke them too soon. 

 "Minhyung," Donghyuck called softly, his voice breaking the silence of the night. 

 Minhyung’s head turned, his pale face illuminated by the soft, flickering lantern light. There was a slight furrow in his brow, but when his eyes landed on Donghyuck, a flicker of recognition softened his expression. 

 "Donghyuck," Minhyung greeted with a small smile, though there was a weariness behind it that Donghyuck couldn’t ignore. "What brings you here at this hour?" 

 Donghyuck stepped closer, the familiar scent of saltwater mixing with the herbs he had gathered earlier that day. His heart skipped a beat, but he ignored it, focusing on the words he had been rehearsing in his mind. 

 "I wanted to thank you," he began, his voice thick with gratitude. "For what you did... back at the port market. You saved my life. I don’t think I could ever repay you for that." His gaze dropped to the basket in his hands, his fingers tightening around the woven edges. 

 Minhyung’s expression softened, his lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "I didn’t do anything special. You would have done the same for me." His voice was steady, though there was something in his tone that made Donghyuck feel like Minhyung was hiding something—a truth he wasn’t sharing. But it wasn’t the right moment to ask. 

 "I still feel like I owe you something," Donghyuck said, his chest tightening. He reached into the basket and pulled out a small bundle of neatly wrapped cloth. The herbs, now transformed into salves, were carefully prepared, their faint herbal scent filling the air between them. 

 "I made these," Donghyuck continued, handing the bundle to Minhyung. "Healing salves. They might help you if you ever get hurt. It’s not much, but it’s something I can give. For all you’ve done." 

 Minhyung looked at the bundle in his hands, his fingers brushing over the cloth before his gaze lifted back to Donghyuck. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps surprise, or gratitude, but it was gone before Donghyuck could fully read it. 

 "Thank you," Minhyung said softly, tucking the bundle carefully into the folds of his cloak. "I’ll keep them with me. You’ve been kind." 

 Donghyuck hesitated, the weight of the moment settling over him. He swallowed hard, his throat tight. "I’m leaving soon. I have something important to do... in Carran. I don’t know when I’ll be back. It could be a long time." His words felt heavy on his tongue, as though they carried the burden of what he was about to do. 

 Minhyung’s eyes flickered with something—something Donghyuck couldn’t place—and his lips parted as if to say something, but he seemed to stop himself. The brief silence between them stretched long, filled with unspoken words. 

 Donghyuck looked away, the uncertainty weighing on his heart. "I just wanted to say goodbye. In case I don’t come back." His voice dropped to a whisper, the words harder to say than he expected. He hadn’t thought about this moment much, hadn’t imagined how it would feel, but now that it was here, it hurt more than he could have imagined. 

 There was a long pause, and Donghyuck felt a knot form in his chest, tightening with every passing second. 

 Minhyung stood then, his movement slow, deliberate. His gaze lingered on Donghyuck, and there was something—perhaps sadness or regret—flickering in his eyes. But then Minhyung nodded once, as though accepting Donghyuck’s words, and took a step closer. 

 “You’ll do well,” Minhyung said softly, his voice carrying over the sound of the tide. He reached into the pocket of his long coat and withdrew a small object, holding it out to Donghyuck. The younger man blinked, glancing at the pendant now resting in Minhyung’s open palm. 

 It was simple yet striking—someting of a floral pattern made of amethyst, its edges finely detailed, suspended from a thin chain. The gem gleamed faintly in the lantern light, but there was something about it, an almost imperceptible hum of energy, that made Donghyuck hesitate. 

 “What’s this?” he asked, tilting his head curiously as he studied the pendant. “You’ve got an odd habit of doing cryptic things, you know.” 

 Minhyung’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile, though his expression remained mostly somber. “It’s just something I own,” he said vaguely, pressing the pendant into Donghyuck’s hand. His touch lingered for a moment, his eyes meeting Donghyuck’s in an almost searching way. “Keep it with you. It might bring you luck.” 

 Donghyuck frowned, his fingers curling around the cool metal. “Luck, huh? That’s oddly sentimental coming from you.” 

 "Take care of yourself, Donghyuck," Minhyung said, his voice gentle but firm. "The road ahead won’t be easy, but I have no doubt you’ll make it through. Stay strong." 

 Donghyuck nodded, his throat thick with emotion. "I will. And thank you again... for everything." 

 The air between them was thick with the weight of what couldn’t be said, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Donghyuck wanted to say more—to tell Minhyung that he had never met anyone like him, that he had never felt so grateful for someone’s kindness—but the words wouldn’t come. 

 Minhyung stepped back, his gaze softening one last time before he turned, his cloak trailing behind him as he disappeared into the night. Donghyuck stood there for a moment, the empty basket in his hands suddenly feeling too heavy. 

 The sound of Minhyung’s footsteps faded into the distance, and Donghyuck was left alone, the quiet of the night enveloping him. The water lapped gently against the docks, a soft reminder that time kept moving forward, no matter how much he wanted to pause it. 

 He breathed in deeply, his heart still heavy but somehow lighter too. 

 Tomorrow, the journey would begin. But for now, all he could do was stand there, staring out at the horizon, knowing that this goodbye—this moment—was a part of something bigger, something he couldn’t yet understand. 

 He stood motionless, his fingers gripping the basket of salves as if holding onto something far more precious, a weight he didn’t fully understand yet. Minhyung’s figure was already fading into the shadows, his long cloak trailing behind him as he walked away. 

 Donghyuck’s heart thudded painfully in his chest, the words he had been wanting to say lodged somewhere deep inside him, too tangled to form into coherent speech. His breath caught in his throat as he stood there, frozen in the moment, watching Minhyung disappear into the night. The finality of their parting—the thought that this could be the last time they would see each other—felt like a tightening knot in his chest, suffocating him slowly. 

 Then, before he could stop himself, before he could think of the consequences, Donghyuck found himself moving. His feet carried him forward, and before his mind could catch up, he reached out, grabbing Minhyung’s arm. His fingers burned where they touched the fabric of Minhyung’s cloak, as if trying to anchor himself to the moment before it slipped away forever. 

 Minhyung paused, his body stiffening at the sudden touch. He turned slowly, and his gaze met Donghyuck’s, those pale, unreadable eyes softening just for a moment. The silence stretched between them, thick and charged with unspoken words. 

 Donghyuck’s breath hitched. His heart raced, his lips parted, but no sound came. He opened his mouth again, trying to speak, to express everything he felt swirling inside—his gratitude, his longing, the connection he felt—but the words got caught in his throat. It was as if his chest had closed around them, and no matter how hard he tried, they wouldn’t break free. 

 Minhyung’s eyes softened, and a small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His hand reached up, gently brushing against Donghyuck’s face, his fingers so light that they almost didn’t feel real. The touch was warm, and it seemed to melt some of the tension in Donghyuck’s body. 

 “Donghyuck…” Minhyung whispered, his voice like a soft caress against the cold air. 

 Donghyuck blinked, his lips trembling with the effort to speak, but still no words came. His heart was a storm inside him, and he could only stand there, staring at Minhyung, wishing he could say everything that was bursting inside him. His fingers dug into Minhyung’s cloak, as if to keep him from disappearing into the darkness forever. 

 Minhyung let out a quiet breath, his gaze searching Donghyuck’s face as though he could see the turmoil within him. And then, before Donghyuck could fully comprehend what was happening, Minhyung leaned down. His hand cupped Donghyuck’s face, drawing him closer, and the world seemed to stop. 

 For a brief, perfect moment, Donghyuck could do nothing but stare into Minhyung’s eyes, the distance between them vanishing with each passing second. There was no more room for hesitation, no more time for fear of the unknown. Minhyung’s lips brushed against his in a kiss so gentle it felt like a promise, like the softest of goodbyes. 

 Donghyuck’s breath caught, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he closed his eyes, letting the kiss swallow all the words that he had failed to say. There was so much he wanted to convey, but in that moment, the kiss said it all—the gratitude, the longing, the ache of what they were about to lose. He could taste the salt of the sea on Minhyung’s lips, feel the warmth of his breath as it mingled with his own. It was everything Donghyuck had ever wanted, and yet, he knew it was fleeting. 

 Everything felt like ending before they even started. 

 When Minhyung pulled away, the world seemed to shift back into motion. Donghyuck’s heart was still pounding, and his eyes fluttered open, meeting Minhyung’s gaze one last time. The silence that followed was heavy, laden with the weight of their unspoken words. 

 “I have to go, Donghyuck,” Minhyung said softly, his voice a hushed murmur. “I don’t know when we’ll see each other again.” 

 Donghyuck nodded slowly, the words stuck in his throat, unable to come out. His hands were still trembling, his chest aching with the finality of the moment. He wanted to say so much more, to beg Minhyung to stay, to hold him for just a little longer, but he knew it was pointless. Minhyung’s path was set, and Donghyuck’s was too. They were both standing on the edge of separate journeys, and nothing could change that. 

 “I’ll miss you,” Donghyuck whispered, his voice barely above the wind’s sigh. 

 Minhyung gave him a small, sad smile, his eyes reflecting a sadness that mirrored Donghyuck’s own. “I’ll miss you too.” 

 With that, Minhyung turned away, his cloak swaying with the breeze as he walked toward the shadowy path that led away from the docks. Donghyuck stood there, watching him disappear into the night, the weight of his heart pulling him down with every step that Minhyung took away from him. 

 The moment stretched on, lingering like the taste of the kiss on his lips, bittersweet and fleeting. Donghyuck closed his eyes, feeling the cool wind wash over him, knowing that this was the last time he would see Minhyung. And yet, in that final, aching goodbye, he held onto the feeling that had been shared between them—the connection that had, for a brief moment, filled the emptiness in his heart. 

 As Minhyung’s figure faded into the dark, Donghyuck finally let go, his chest heavy but his heart more whole than it had ever been. The sea whispered its lullaby to him, and as he turned away, he took a step toward his own destiny, carrying the memory of that kiss—the last, lingering touch—deep inside him, where it would stay forever. 

 ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 

 The morning fog still clung to the edges of the port, a soft, ethereal veil that blurred the line between sea and sky. Minhyung sat by the water’s edge, his thoughts a tangled mess, as waves crashed rhythmically against the docks. He had spent the past few days wandering, half-heartedly listening to the voices of the market, distracted by something he couldn’t quite place. His fingers traced the edge of the bundle of healing salves at his side, a strange weight in his chest that had only deepened since Donghyuck left. 

 The fishermen were among the first to pass by, their weathered faces grim as they spoke of the day's news. Minhyung didn’t pay much attention at first, his mind wandering in and out of thoughts of the young apothecary and their brief, bittersweet parting. But then, a word caught his attention, sharp and clear. 

 "Carran," one of the fishermen muttered, his voice low with fear. "They’re sending knights to Carran. To try  to retrieve the black fire and stop the blood witches. But it's a lost cause—those witches will probably find and slaughter them all, every last one." 

 The words struck Minhyung like a thunder. His heart stilled for a moment, a chill running down his spine. Carran—the land of eternal autumn, the kingdom he had heard about in passing stories of riches and flames. But now, it was a place of possible death, and the mention of knights being sent there, to face the blood witches, filled him with an inexplicable dread. 

 Minhyung stood up sharply, his thoughts racing. Donghyuck. 

 He hadn’t even considered it, but now the pieces fell into place. Donghyuck had left for Carran with a purpose—something important, something that had required him to take that perilous journey. And now, with the news of knights heading toward that kingdom, Minhyung could only assume that Donghyuck might be caught in the heart of it. 

 His mind went blank for a moment, heart pounding, as memories of the young apothecary flooded his thoughts. Donghyuck had been so determined, so full of life and warmth, and Minhyung had let him walk away, unsure whether he would ever see him again. 

 But now the world seemed to shift on its axis. The thought of Donghyuck—innocent, kind, with his heart too large for his own safety—facing such unimaginable danger without anyone to protect him sent a surge of urgency through Minhyung’s veins. 

 Without thinking, Minhyung turned toward the narrow alleyways leading out of the port. He couldn’t just wait. He had to go. He had to help Donghyuck before it was too late. 

 As he walked, his thoughts clouded by the images of blood witches and the haunting rumors, Minhyung felt something stir deep inside him—a power he had buried for so long, one he had been running from. It was time. Time to return to the place he calls home. Time to face the truth of who he really was. 

 His path had always been unclear, shrouded in the shadows of his own past, but now, it was undeniable. He could no longer hide. If the blood witches were to hurt Donghyuck, then they would have to answer to him. 

 But for now it was time for Minhyung to return home. 

 Back at the docks, the fishermen continued their quiet conversation, unaware of the quiet storm that had just set sail on the horizon. They spoke of the knights’ doomed mission, but none of them knew that the one who would stand against the blood witches was not a knight, nor a simple traveler—but something far darker, far older, and far more powerful. 

 Minhyung didn’t need to be a knight to stop the blood witches. He had his own dragons to call upon. 

[buibleboo]

jaemin // 2025 NCT Dream Season's Greetings

[buibleboo]

help me find a fic

i forgot the exact pairing but bsf! johnny n yuta watching p0rn in the living room, girl mc caught them, girl apologized for being late (they were supposed to do a group assignment) but the bois told her they finished and that she can repay by fucking them or something..

can someone help me pls (its 3am & i cant find it..) thank you so much🫶🏼

[buibleboo]

5 pages only to give him new hedgehog yes im not sorry

[buibleboo]

HAECHAN ❖ NCT FALL RETREAT, EP.3

[buibleboo]

haechan ♡ 2 baddies fancam (220929)

[buibleboo]

DONGHYUK: [red hair] haechan has been a little.. annoying, so i just told him i’ll show you how to do it so you just watch 🖤

[buibleboo]

Haechan ♡ NCT DREAM Brand Concept Day Photoshoot Behind

[buibleboo]

[buibleboo]

Golden Hour, 2023 MARK

[buibleboo]

MARK LEE @ genie music awards 2022

+ BONUS:

[buibleboo]

happy 25th birthday, jungkook! ♡ collab with @honsool / insp