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Sugar Rush

PAIRINGS : Choi Yeonjun x fem!reader

WORD COUNT : 7.8k

GENRE : Angst, Smut, Fluff

WARNINGS/CONTENT : Fantasy au, multiple pov (yeonjun+reader), profanity (mild cursing), yearning, mutual pining (?), any more warnings and the storyline will be spoiled; it'll unravel as you go along. ♡

A/N : First time writing for TXT, so I guess this is my debut into moablr. Happy late Valentine's, lovelies. ♡

Just why are you the manifestation of temptation? Why does he desire you so? When he's never had you before… 

Or has he? 

Plush.

That's the only way you can describe this. This sensation.

Euphoria.

That's the only word for you to chronicle this. This feeling.

Elation of the unadulterated kind.

Ecstasy of the bonafide variety.

It's a feeling of fullness, of satisfaction, of gratification.

And all of that accomplished, merely by his presence. You can feel it. The heavy exhale of breathe right at the shell of your ear, the slow drag of his fingers along your curves, explorative, accustomed. Like he's done it a million times prior, like he's never done it before. Unlearning. Mastering.

"Play with me, sugar." A sultry whisper, a request, a promise.

It sends a tingle down your spine, back arching, body aching for more. Yet you force your eyes open, trying to make sense of anything that's not him. Given your state, it's not so easy a task.

Yet as your vision clears, you make out a black and amber sweater, the zipper down as far as it'll go, a plane of smooth skin on display. Looking over his shoulder, all you see is a whirlpool of colours. All kinds, vibrant persimmons, holographic blues, iridescent lilac, swirling and blending, converging together somewhere behind him.

It's hypnotic, looking at the whirlwind of hues, but even moreso, his voice.

"You're addictive." Silky smooth, dripping honey.

You zoom in your eyes on him, trying to recognize his features, his eyes, anything really, to know who he is. But all you see is blur, a pixelated mosaic at best.

You can make out everything in perfect clarity, everything except his face. The expanse of pigmented background, the countless variegated butterflies flying about.

Your eyes land on a magenta one, and it flies its way to come rest right on the convex bulge of his clavicle. But just as it makes contact with his creamy skin, it promptly disintegrates, disappearing with a puff, dusting his collars with even more sparkles.

You don't know where it comes from, this urge to lean forward and lick the glitter studs off his skin, but you make good on that impulse nonetheless, slowly dragging your tongue over his collar bone, savouring the taste of him.

He hums out in satisfaction, slender fingers tangling in your hair, not trying to move you around, just holding, feeling.

"Just like that."

You moan against his skin, trying to make out what he tastes like. You've had it before, this flavour of lust. Your tastebuds tell you as much. But you can't remember where.

Where have you tasted this before?

What is this taste, this flavour?

You move to his other beauty bone, and just as you know you're close to finding out what it is, you're shaken awake by a cool tinge on your neck.

Your eyes slowly fan open, and it takes a moment for you to blink through the tears staining your cheeks.

When had you started crying?

What the hell was that dream?

More importantly, where the fuck are you?

Suddenly wide awake, you snap your head around, looking at your surroundings. Grass and greenery abound, you're positively lost.

You remember being on the cruise a while back, but the vast stretch of water in front of you certainly doesn't look like the lido deck you were soaking in mere moments ago.

Were you thrown off the ship or something? As crazy as it sounds, that's the only possible explanation you can think of. But one body scan later, you conclude that couldn't have been the case. You see no surface injury, no indication of anything painful going down. You try standing up, expecting to at least wince a little after having been laying down on the sand in an uncomfortable position.

But nothing. Nothing at all.

One more full body scan and you find traces of dried up blood on your calves, still no sign of any wound.

Is this someone else's blood? But there's no living thing in sight for as far as you can see.

All you see is the vast ocean and the sand, extending as far as your line of sight goes, a row of bushes separating this piece of land from what lies beyond.

There's something eerily nostalgic about this place. It's evident in the way you know the trees are mulberry even before you catch the sweet waft of the ripe berries in the air that breezes past you, in the way you're sure the chameleon resting on the rock near the water will change colour once you touch it.

Intuition has always proven to be on your side, yet for the first time, you find reason to doubt it. So you take the few steps towards the reptile, extending your palm slowly so as to not scare it away. It hops on to your awaiting hand all too eagerly, much to your pleasant surprise. And true to form, the simplest of touches turns the dusky beige of its scaled skin to a wine shade of purple in a matter of seconds.

Your intuition was right.

But you feel no better, feel no sense of security at having confirmed the reliability of your sixth sense. Quite on the contrary, it's unsettling.

You know this place, have been here sometime ago, that's for sure, but have no recollection of it. Indeed, the sea is something you avoid being in the vicinity of at all costs, the water never failing to instil a sense of dread deep within you. It had taken a lot of cajoling- and bribery- on Taylor's part to even get you on the cruise, under the disguise of emotional blackmail.

"It's my Bachelorette."

"Can't you do this much for me?"

"You know it's been my dream since Love Island."

"Just don't go out on the deck and you won't even know you're on water, it'll be like living in a resort."

Endless arguments made, it was only a matter of time before you caved, the joyous squeal she let out more than worth the trouble you knew you would face when the time finally came to climb aboard. A small price to pay for her happiness, you thought back then. If only you knew how it would come back to bite you in the ass.

After pondering over it for a long while, you decide to see it for yourself, just what is it past the shrubs, what is this magnetic pull you're being dealt with.

Curiosity killed the cat, sure, but standing here, near the water in the mid winter freeze isn't doing you any favours, either.

So you move, seeking the gravity of the tug you're experiencing, like the sailor edges nearer to a siren, even with the smell of his demise prominent from kilometres away.

Only, it's not so much a demise that you're smelling. It's something entirely different.

Something mysterious. Something dangerous. Something delicious.

Something you're willing to risk it all for.

Sweet.

That's the only way he can describe this. This taste.

Arousing.

That's the only word for him to chronicle this. This sensation.

Titillating in every sense of the word.

Galvanising in a way he hasn't known before.

It's a sense of security, of safety, of reprieve.

And all of that accomplished, by your mere existence. He can feel your legs trapping his waist, body pressed against his. You slowly drag the zip on his sweater down, eyes fixated on every tract of skin you uncover.

"Come a little closer." Your voice is sweet, much like everything else about you.

His body moves before his mind does, coming impossibly close, the water sloshing about around the two of you.

"Let me help you now." Anaesthetic, that's what your voice is to him.

"Mm?"

You huff out a laugh, clearly knowing the effect you have on him, the power you hold.

Even if you didn't know, he'd never fail to let you know of it himself. How you have him wrapped around your finger, all yours to have.

He doesn't know why he feels the way he does. For all he knows, is that you're a haze. It's not that you're not real, far from it. He can feel your presence in every single one of his neurons, your touch setting his skin on fire, your breath claiming the attention of every one of his muscles.

But even so, he can't see your face, no matter how he squints, wills his head to stop spinning with want.

Your laugh is what breaks him from his reverie, and he gives up trying to figure out just who you are. For now.

"You just made me feel good, didn't you? My turn now."

As if on cue, his taste buds pulsate and almost suddenly, his mouth is filled with a sweetness he tasted moments prior. A sweetness he's never had before, but simultaneously experienced all the time.

He swirls his tongue around, trying to make sense of this absurd taste.

What is it?

Seemingly having noticed what he's upto, you break out into yet another laugh,

"It's okay, darling. You'll get more of me."

His face blooms red, shyness washing over him at having been caught tasting the remnants of you in his mouth. He lets out a squeak, burying his face in the crook of your neck, arms tightening around you.

You chuckle, "Now now," lacing your fingers with his and giving a squeeze. Your way of letting him know it's okay, that he doesn't need to hide, doesn't have reason to fret. He's safe with you. Secure. Free to be vulnerable, to let his boundaries down.

How he knows all of that from a simple squeeze of his hand, he doesn't know. The same way he doesn't know who you are, and why he trusts you with his life.

All he knows is that he does.

And that he doesn't question it. Not when it feels so right.

A sharp pang of gut wrenching pain that he knows all too well is what jolts him awake, stirs him from yet another one of his dreams. Of visions of a being so beautiful, he's never known the likes of. Of a flavour so sweet, he'd die- time and again- for a taste.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to calm down the thumping of his heart, the one he can hear all the way up to his ears.

That's when he feels the streams marked on his cheeks, down all the way to his neck.

This is a first.

He's dreamt of her before. He's tasted her in his dreams before.

But never has he cried like this. Never has his heart ached this much.

He swears he was able to taste it this time. This time, he promised himself that he'll remember it. But just like all the other times, it fizzled from his palate the moment he woke up.

It's frustrating, to say the least. He feels denied, deprived of what he deserves.

Soobin won't shut up about craving his lemon sherbet all day. Taehyun won't stop raving about how it's the best sorbet he's ever had the pleasure of tasting.

Beomgyu, Huening; they've all had their share of flavour a billion times over by now.

So why? Why is it that he's the only one that's left behind?

Why is it only him that doesn't know what his person tastes like?

"Good things take time." Is what Mrs. Yeon says. What she's been saying for years now.

But what does she know? Sure, she might be the community elder, the one to have the most wisdom when it comes to anything of the matter. But she's not the one yearning for someone who never comes, wishing upon every fallen star for someone who never shows up, aching for a taste that's not found in anything he tries.

And God, has he tried. The flavour lingers for a little while every time he wakes up, before it disappears from his memory. He's tried committing it to memory, finding it in anything and everything.

Perennials. Botanicals. Herbs. Drugs.

Grapevine is the only thing that comes the closest, but that's honestly downplaying it. It's near insulting to call her taste similar to a mere grapevine but it's a beginning, he supposes.

He almost fell face first into a chronic one-way paralysis trying to make up a concoction by infusing fernflowers with grapevine in an attempt to replicate her flavour.

He's been banned from the Aesculapian Estate ever since, barred from anything relating even remotely to phytomedicine.

But really, is he one to be blamed? He's desperate, rightfully so. Needy in a way he's never been.

Natives call him crazy, fixated, but at the end of the day, they aren't the ones wanting something they can't have. Wanting something they deserve, something their mothers' bedtime stories promised they'd have, something the community elders never failed to mention they would be rewarded with when the time comes.

It's unfair.

It's been years since he came of age. Years since he's been denied his mate. Years and years since he's been seeing everyone around him being paired up and skipping along merrily.

So, why him?

As he lies there, nestled among the outstretched net of tangled roots emerging from the trunk of the Bristlecone Pine tree, he feels it.

Again.

Reluctantly, he gets up and runs to the nearby pond. Aligning himself into the familiar position, hunched over, hands on the edge, he waits for what's to come.

It's violent this time around, the way his stomach squeezes, body convulsing, the breath being knocked out from his lungs.

Retching hasn't ever been something he objectively likes to partake in, but this is excruciating. As painful as it is everytime, it's never this bad. It feels like liquifying all the soft organs he has, coming out in the form of the pink, shining sludge he's seen one too many times before.

After what feels like forever, and for all he knows might as well have been, it stops, the temporary reprieve much welcome. And temporary it is, he knows it to be.

It's what, the sixth time today?

Two is the average, maybe three if the universe is feeling particularly cruel that day, but this is out of the ordinary, even for the level of brutality he's subject to on the daily.

Returning to the previous position against the trunk, he finds a semblance of normality, chest heaving a little slowly, head pounding a little less loudly.

For a reason unknown, the proximity of the evergreens has always had a calming effect on him, being the closest thing to a natural sedative.

He slumps back into the position he was in initially, the drag of bark against his back a welcome comfort, puts an arm over his closed eyes, attempting to even out his breathing.

He's not sure how much more of this he can take.

The further you go, the stronger the pull gets.

It's starting to get dark now and the range of bushes you crossed hours ago is nowhere in sight, lost somewhere in the late evening fog that's beginning to coat the air surrounding you, lacing it with a heaviness, making it a little difficult to breath.

Yet you move in a daze, empowered by this urge, that there's something, someone you're seeking.

You don't know what, or who, just that it's here, somewhere.

A faint whistling catches your attention, coming from somewhere towards the east. Its a sonic you've heard before, a note all too acquainted. It's calming and unnerving at the same time, and you're not particularly fond of the way it fails even your second sight, for you, once again, are doubtful of what is it exactly that's transpiring, every second you venture further into these forsaken woods setting off new alarms within you.

So, much like what you've been doing until now, you follow the unsaid attraction and move towards the sound.

You spot a curtain of string leaves hanging down between two thick tree trunks, violet beams of light peeking through them. Fireflies are buzzing and glowing all around them, seemingly attracted to the luminescence, the night properly pitch dark by now.

You trudge forward, reaching for the leaf garland and drawing it aside and a gasp leaves your lips.

The view you witness is something that puts any fantasy you could ever have to shame.

It's violet all over, everywhere you look. Violet leaves, indigo trunks, prop roots hanging off branches, touching the ground covered with equally purple sand. Thick roots emerge from the tree bases, entwining and curling together, forming a spiderweb on the forest floor. Some leaves shed from their petioles, swirling in the air, filling it with a flowery aroma, twirling and landing on the river. The water has a translucent lavender tinge to it too, moving in small eddies, echoing a gentle hum in the quiet of the night.

That's when you spot it, spot them, someone in the water, submerged save for the head that peakes out. Only the back of the long locks of hair is visible to you, but something within you tightens, and in the same daze, you approach the silhouette without thinking twice about it.

As he hears the sound of the slowly approaching footsteps, he sighs audibly, closing his eyes, getting ready for the blow to land. This is the time of the night when Boemgyu loves to come to him with his stories. Stories of how there's nothing better he's tasted, how much he wishes Yeonjun could have it too.

He knows he comes from a good place, he really does. But listening to him for hours on end, about something that he can't understand, is painful to put it mildly.

But it's through these conversations that he lives vicariously, the closest he gets to knowing what it would be like to finally get to have his mate, the one made just for him, and for whom he was made. It'd all sounded like a fluke the first he heard of it, like the stuff from fairytales; had he not witnessed it firsthand, seen with his very own eyes, he'd still refuse to believe it. He'd been better off not knowing, in all honesty. Sometimes peace of mind comes from being none the wiser, and if this is not the best instance he could apply that faith to, he doesn't know what is.

But the younger native he considers his brother doesn't let him forget it, makes it a point to remind him everyday without fail.

So really, it's a vicious requisite. A masochistic desire.

It hurts him to hear, but is the only salvage he gets to have for now. For however long into the future, until he's shown some mercy.

Even so, as the sound of the footsteps grows, the familiar nausea returns, the bile gurgling up his throat for the seventh time this day, rendering hours of water therapy useless.

He's suddenly on edge.

"Leave me alone, Gyu. I don't want to hear it."

Might be harsh, but he doesn't have it in him to be tactical with his words right now. With how things have been today, he's long given up on being pleasant. That can always wait for another day.

The stomps stop, but don't retreat.

"Leave." He sighs.

Boemgyu knows when not to push him, he knows when to press and when to leave, so the lingering doesn't make any sense. The sheer frustration in his tone would have been reason enough for him to realise that leaving him to his devices was for the best, the best for both of them, and for the tranquillity that envelopes the night. For Yeonjun when mad, is a sight vexatious. He isn't proud of it, but anger control has never been his forte, and considering all the times his anger issues have done him and his community good, he doesn't plan on fixing that aspect of him anytime soon. Sure, it might make him an unpleasant person for many, but it's his shield when needed, his unforgiving armour when other senses fail to be of moment. Beomgyu knows of this, so the stalling about is so unlike him.

Annoyed, he emerges out of the water, whipping around,

"Didn't you hea-"

And promptly stops dead in his tracks.

Gorgeous.

That's the first word that comes to mind.

He's gorgeous.

As you stand there, staring at what you would imagine an angel to look like, your heart thuds the fastest it ever has. A tinge runs down your spine, a feeling akin to a sugar rush coursing through your veins.

Standing in the water, invisible from the waist down, he's the most ethereal being you've ever laid eyes upon.

His jade black hair is wet, crimped and sticking to his forehead, some stray strands getting in his eyes, heavy water drops cascading down his sharp cheekbones, even sharper jawline. So soft, so silken looking.

It's weird how you know the way they would tickle against your inner thighs.

His heart-shaped lips, full and pouty, shining, dripping water. So wet, so inviting.

It's funny how you know what the plump texture would feel against your own.

His flexed biceps, lean and long, skin a fair butter tone. So smooth, so unmarked.

It's uncanny how you know what they would feel like underneath your fingertips.

You've been there, with him. He's been here, with you. Yet it feels as though it were a time no longer valid, or perhaps a time that never was.

He's beauty personified, and you are unwilling to tear your haze away for even a second. He seems to be of a similar mind, for he's been standing there, completely still and gawking up at you, unblinking. His irises restless in their orbits, the way they run in small circles within his pupils is testimony enough to the miles a minute nature of his racing mind.

Then suddenly he frowns, turning about completely, and begins making his way through the splashes, walking towards the shore. And as the water level goes down inch by slow inch, revealing more of his torso, you're a goner.

Body slim yet toned, lean muscles accentuating his morphology at just the right places, his beauty encompasses even itself as he reveals more of himself from under the water. He wears nothing but a thin vest, a poor excuse for clothing, shrinked even more due to being wet, sticking to his sides, honey skin out for you to marvel at. Well technically, not for you to marvel at, but you're going to indulge all the same. He's completely out now, swinging long limbs over the edge of the shore, bending a little, a silver spiked garland necklace clinking and bouncing against his chest. And oh, that chest. Broad and smooth, a far cry from being muscular, but still well defined, clean cuts marking and outlining his pectorals, buds mercifully hidden under the sides of the vest.

The glint from the overshadowing moon catches on the sparkles adorning his body, making him twinkle against the dusk. The gleam only brightens as he comes closer, with you now realising that they embellish his neck too.

Would they come off if you licked them?

Shaking your head, you force your thoughts to come to a halt, their intrusive nature a surprise to your dazed state.

He's a stranger, and by the looks of it, not a normal one. Normal humans don't shine, don't have sparkled necks. No matter how much you feel like you know him, in the grand scheme of things, you don't.

He's standing before you now, soaked cloth clinging to his laterals, figure on display.

One look into his deep chestnut eyes, and the sugar-like rush is back again, albeit stronger this time around.

It's familiar, the way you want to drown in those pools of honey, the way you know the pattern of the golden flecks scattered in his orbs. The kind of knowingness that comes only from years of studying, admiring, loving.

It's well acquainted, the way his plush lips part, the silky tone of his voice,

"Sugar?"

The words are as hesitant as they are shocking, even to himself. It's evident from the way his forehead creases, pouty lips taking on a downward tilt. He's just as baffled as you are, if not more.

"Is that your name? Sugar?"

You meekly shake your head no, even though every impulse is forcing you to agree.

"Oh."

"But it feels like it."

"Oh."

It's deja vu. A familiarity. A recollection.

You know that's not your name. But what you also know is that it belongs to you, the feeling of connection near immediate within your being.

How else would you describe the way your body reacts? The way your ears perk up at the mention, your tongue ready to hum out an affirmative.

It's not your name. But it's meant to be yours.

There's a moment where you both just stare into the other's eyes, standing still, the fireflies flying about, enlightening his face at different angles, casting shadows in different gradients.

But all too soon is the haze broken, and he's averting his eyes, looking at everything but you.

You fight the urge to take his face in your palms and force it back towards you.

He's a stranger, you remind yourself, ignoring every instinct saying otherwise.

A clearing of throat is followed by a quiet question, "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I don't- know."

That sounds sketchy, you're aware of it yourself, but you genuinely don't know. And for some reason, you can't lie to him, don't wish to.

He doesn't seem fazed, just hums. If you were of a more sane mind, you'd find it odd how that was the first question he wanted the answer to, skipping the essential who are you and how did you get here. No, the wording he used, what are you doing here, as if already aware that your arrival was by your own will and knowledge, something that was expected to happen. If so, he couldn't be more wrong.

You know it's not your place to ask questions, to demand any explanation, but the way your heart is brimming with emotion, this feeling that you know him, you can't help yourself,

"What are you?"

His head snaps to face you, those chestnut eyes boring into you with intensity. Not the good kind. He's tense all of a sudden, almost defensive.

"Something you're not." He snaps.

You're thrown off by the bite, but despite yourself, whisper,

"I beg to differ."

The frown deepens, his gaze near burning.

He arches a perfect brow in question and scoffs, "I'd be careful on the bluntness, little one. You're in my territory, with no knowledge of who I am, or what was it that you said? 'What' I am."

He's trying to intimidate you, back you up in a corner, to seem domineering, but you know him to be none of these things. Despite his razor sharp features and tough exterior, his warm eyes give him away. He can play pretend all he wants, but you can feel the gentleness rolling off of him, and perhaps it's on a spiritual level that you feel it, because there's no other way you would have known that he, in effect, poses no harm, however much may he play the part.

"Wouldn't be so sure of that."

Now he just seems amused, the earlier irritation sublimed. His eyebrows rise again in silent expectation, prompting an answer.

"I think- I think I kno-"

You cut yourself off before the thought is said out loud. You're not sure of his reaction, of what to expect, when in total honesty, your own response to the thought said out loud isn't predictable.

"I think I've seen you somewhere." You settle.

The playful expression drops, eyes almost whimsical for but a moment, before his face takes on the neutral stance you'd found him in.

It's baffling, how quickly he changes expressions, his features almost trained to follow suit. Yet you know of this habit of his to be borne out of the need to protect, to self preserve. You wonder what had to have happened for him to adopt an outlook such as this. If you didn't know any better, you'd simply label him a lunatic with no emotional control, but you do know better- the reason for which still unbeknownst to you- and all it does is make you want to shield him from all that is vile, the sudden urge to protect this Adonis of a man running rampant.

He inhales a deep breath, and you assume it's to possibly calm himself- God knows you need to. Rolling his shoulders until his joints pop, he shoves his hands into his cargo pockets, sighs,

"How can you get back hom-," A pause, "get back where you came from?"

Not entirely sure about the reason for the need he felt to correct himself, you once again let your subconscious do the talking,

"No idea. Guess I'm staying."

Leaving a dumbfounded stranger behind, you've no clue where you get the courage to stroll right past him and towards the lake, comfortably seating on the edge, your legs crossed underneath thighs. You cast a glance over your shoulder and sure enough, the bewildered expression is still very much present, maybe even augmented now.

"You gonna keep standing there?"

He blinks, a gesture oddly endearing on his stone cold shell, titling his head to the side, confusion clear as day.

In the short while you've spent with him today, you've already decoded half of his workings apparently, for he says nothing, quietly making his way over, settling down next to you, as far away as the narrow bank allows. This is the way to tame him, you've concluded. Be unsure and he'll take it upon himself to act condescending, be assertive and he'll act not too different to a puppy, following along as instructed. It all feels too natural, taking the lead with him, not being fooled by his sham.

"So," You begin, partly to break the silence that's uncharacteristically taken over him, but more so because it's been bugging you more than you ever could explain, "who's sugar?"

He cuts his eyes in your direction, the heat back in those orbs, and you've got a snide remark ready at the tip of your tongue, having already predicted a reaction such as this- really, he's too easy to read.

Or maybe you've been reading this genre of his longer than you believe, and this is the past experience coming back in waves.

Or, you're simply reading too much into it.

Nevertheless, just as predicted, he snarls,

"No one."

And just as quickly turns away, bringing knees up to his chest, tucking his chin over them.

He looks not unlike a hurt soul masking under the veil of an arrogant persona, and no matter the displeasure he expresses, you can't find it in yourself to find reason to believe the front he puts up, the urge to 'take care' the only inclination overpowering you.

The dismissal too abrupt to have been a result of a thought-over notion, you don't believe it. Not for a second.

But you suppose you'll let it go this time, if only in favour of your own inner turmoil.

Maybe he's feeling what you're feeling too.

The desire to let your guard down, to let this complete stranger in, said desire engaging in a constant contest against preservation instincts.

"Who are you, then?"

It's delibrate, the reframing to your question, and if the laxing of his face is any indication, he registers it too, appreciates it.

"Yeonjun." He breathes, still not looking at you.

You echo your name too, mulling over whether to extend a polite 'nice to meet you' or something of the sorts, but deciding against it, realising it might come off absurd, what with the nature of your conversations uptill now.

The head he had nestled on his knees snuggles further down, and it's either your ears playing tricks on you or you actually do hear a whimper.

"Hey, you okay?" A tentative arm hovers over his shoulder, and you wonder if he'd really mind the comfort you so badly want to offer. If the roles were reversed, you know you wouldn't.

"Fine." He rasps, voice hoarse, his guttural confirmation more alarming than reassuring.

"But you don-"

You don't get to finish the sentiment, as he's suddenly standing to his feet, making a run for the small pond sitting right by the lake. And what you witness is more than enough to have your blood running cold. It's something all too personal, the way he coughs up a saje coloured semiliquid, the way you can see the energy being drained from his person as he spasms violently.

Without second guessing this time around, you run to the pond yourself, crouch down just behind him, run a soothing hand across the expanse of his back. The halting of his shivering is almost immediate, and it only serves to spur your movements as you begin shallowly massaging the muscles.

He slouches back, covers a hand over his mouth, grumbles,

"Changed fucking colours. Cute."

And yet again, you know what he means.

"Used to be pink, huh?"

This seems to have grabbed his attention, as he slowly turns to look at you. You find it perplexing too, how he could have been going through what you have for longer than you can remember, the retching a part of your daily routine by now. There's something bigger at play here, something tying you and this stranger together, something beyond your simple hunch of familiarity.

And this time when you are met with his big, glassy eyes, you find something you didn't before, something you haven't in years.

Ardour. Sorrow. Oddly together.

Not only is the strange mix of emotions familiar, it's familiar in his hue of chestnut, his champagne orbs, the amalgamation untypically unique.

You've seen this look in these eyes. Irrespective of how miscostructive it sounds, you know you have. You'd swear your life on it.

He seems to have been struck with something similar, for the newfound warmth in his eyes- something you mentally blamed him for hiding- is basically overflowing, his guard visibly dropping.

His lips part, release nothing more than a gasp, waver, then seal back. He's hesitant, not wanting to say it out loud, but you hear it all the same. Hear the unsaid endearment, understand the implicit elucidation to his apprehension.

"Can you say it again?" Your voice is a whisper, afraid to shatter this stolen moment of intimacy.

"Say what again?"

"Say my name again?"

He breathes out your name, eyes averting, a blush adorning the apples of his cheeks.

"No. My name."

He's confused for all of a second before realisation dawns on him, cheekbones burning a deeper shade of crimson.

"You mean-?"

"Just say it."

"But- but you said it wasn't your name."

A sigh of exasperation and eye-squeeze of annoyance is all the incentive he needs it seems, for he's fulfilling your wish all too soon.

"Sugar."

And all too soon is your heart thumping in your ears, the same rush coursing through your veins.

Why your body chooses to react this way is beyond you, but it's intense enough to have a deeper connotation than a response to a mere nickname. It means something more.

You know it does.

Have known all this while.

He turns to look at you, and from this up close, the sparkles catching the moonlight once again, he shines brighter than any star, any constellation, any galaxy.

He's your star. Your constellation. Your galaxy.

Your own escape, your angel.

Wait.

Your eyes trail back to the curve of his shoulders, searching for something you know is missing.

He follows your line of sight. There's a split second where you see the panic in his eyes, which disappears when he looks over his shoulders. If he thinks he's safe, he couldn't be more wrong.

"Show me."

It's not a question. Not a demand either, just a soft request, one he can easily decline, but made with enough conviction that tells him there's no way he's getting out of this one with a lie.

So he just looks at you, eyes drooped in acceptance, a sombre expression on his face,

"How?"

You know what he means, but you don't have an answer for him.

"How do you know?" He reiterates.

"I just do."

"Who are you, really?"

You smile at that, for you know the frustration he feels. You feel it too.

The knowledge that you know him, but don't.

The understanding that you know he has wings, but not sure how.

The awareness that you want him, but have no right to.

"Show me, please?" You disregard his question entirely, and he knows as well as you that it's a pointless one anyway.

So he gingerly stands up, backing away from you a little. You thought you were prepared; you overestimated yourself.

A fluttering sound echoes through the silent forest, and amidst the dead of the night, you experience a sight all too enchanting.

The same whirlwind of colours, of shades blending together, the same kind you witnessed in your dreamland not too long ago, is presented before you. Manifesting in the most beautiful pair of wings. The Blue Morpho doesn't hold a candle in the face of such gorgeousness.

Your dream hadn't been a fluke, you saw him in it. You saw his wings, felt his lips.

Once again, your eyes glaze over, heart splitting in two at the view. He's standing there, with tears of his own and you know why.

As if in a trance, you get up and run off towards him, stopping only when you're inches away, panting, out of breathe. And not out of the exhaustion at having made the spree, really there wasn't more than a few metres between you and him. But the emotion has engulfed you, your breath practically belonging to him in this moment, entering your lungs upon his command and his command only.

Your eyes trace his wings, from the arch at the top to the downward droop at the bottom, eventually trailing to his face, and ultimately to his lips. Those full lips.

You step closer still, hands cautiously reaching for his shoulders, going on your tiptoes to whisper against his plump lips,

"I'm sorry, but I really have to do this."

Strong arms wrapping around your waist is all the consent you need and in the next moment you are lunging for him, taking his lips in an all consuming kiss, even after trying your best to hold back, if only to not freak him out. It's no use now, so you let go, let your body react the way it does, let your subconsciousness take the lead.

His mouth is indeed as addicting as you imagined it to be, knew it to be. Your hands make their way up his shoulders to his nape, where you brush his hair and true to form, they're just as soft as you imagined, as you knew.

He lets out a groan in your mouth, tilting his head more, deepening the kiss. He's licking into your mouth at this point, tongue swirling around, sucking the essence right out of you, drinking it in earnest. It's not a kiss, it's so much more than that. It feels like he's ravishing you, tasting you.

A sudden tickling in your back makes you shudder, a feeling akin to having an ice cube slide down your bare skin. Goosebumps break all over you, and the familiar fluttering sound permeates the air around you two.

You pull back to gasp, shaking your shoulder blades. His wings are still there, the same they had been before, so what in the world was that sound?

You look up at Yeonjun to find him not looking at you, his gaze fixated on something behind your shoulder. You turn your head back yourself, only to be met with a carbon copy of those angelic wings somehow attached to your back.

"Wha- How.. What is happening?"

Contrary to your panicked tone, he's calm, almost delighted. That claim is proven right when he suddenly breakes out into a wistful smile, the tears making their way down his waterline.

"I knew it." He ducks his head, resting it on your chest, hands refusing to let go of your sides.

"Yeonjun, what is going on? I'm getting scared now."

His head snaps up at that, hands finding your cheeks, cupping and cradling your face with gentle care.

"Don't be scared, sugar. You're here now. With me. You're finally here." He chokes out the last words, clearly overwhelmed.

You frown, but don't question him, deciding to be patient.

His thumbs brush against your skin, caressing back and forth,

"Don't you remember me?" He gently whispers.

There it is again, the same question, the same vague feeling. You known him but you'd don't.

"It's okay," He somehow senses what you're experiencing it seems, as he doesn't push it further, "it's okay. Let me help you remember, yeah?"

And with that he's closing the distance between your bodies again, lips moulding against yours, whisking you away in a trance like state once again.

This is it.

This is the taste he's been dying for, time and time again. And to think he already had it before, once upon a time.

It's not a sudden downpour of memories that rains down to him, but a slow sprinkle, a calm drizzling, the kind that comes before a thunder storm.

And then it's a torrent, a gush of water, drenching him whole, making him lose his footing. It makes him dizzy but he'll have it any fucking day if it means he gets to taste you again.

He remembers you, remembers the time when you belonged to him, and he you. The times you spent together, near this very spring, tasting each other for hours on end. The times that he has now come to know of as the most peaceful and fulfilled. He felt content, whole.

Before you were snatched away from him, a you-shaped gaping hole left in his heart. Every single one of the memories you made together wiped, yet the hole never closed, never healed.

He always felt something in his life was missing, a last puzzle piece to complete him, a last drop to fill his glass.

And now, with your wings outsretched behind you, the same ones as his, he has found that piece of puzzle, that drop of nectar.

You taste just as he imagined. Like grapevines with an undertone of fernflowers.

A grapevine left untouched for so long, harbouring yeast on the surface. All he has to do is crush his lips against yours, and the grapes burst open, outer skin tearing, juices squirting out, fermenting with the yeast to form the richest wine to ever grace his palate.

The fernflowers that bloom for a period too short, for him only, his very own summer solstice, being fertile just for him.**

He remembers. And you're here with him. At last.

The only thing that's left, is for you to recall as well. It's going to be no difficult fate.

As he reconnects your lips again, pulling you impossibly closer by your middle, his wings wrap around your bodies, and just like every other time in the past, yours do too. With both your appendages curling over and forming a cocoon around your forms, he feels the security all over again, the one he wanted to revel in forever.

Too bad no one told him forever doesn't last as long as one thinks, but now that he finally has you again, he doesn't plan on letting go anytime soon, if ever.

When he breaks the kiss, your own tears have made their way past your jaw, wet eyes twinkling, reflecting the moon in them. For him, they are the moon themselves.

He softly thumbs them away, smiling through his own tears,

"Welcome back, sugar."

You give him a wistful smile, his own sorrow reflecting on your features. An underlying hope buried somewhere deep within the pain.

"Missed you." You mumble, scrunching your nose in a sniffle. It's something you always did back then, and everytime it made him wonder how it was possible for someone to be so cute, so precious.

Winding his arms around your shoulders, he steps forward, slotting himself against you, his face in your neck.

"I missed you more. I fucking missed you so much."

Hot wet trails run down your neck and you lovingly ruffle his hair, remembering how it always soothed his anxiety.

He stays like that a while, hiccuping and reiterating his saudade for you. After his breath evens out, and tears dry up, he pulls back, looking deep in your eyes.

"You know me, right?"

You huff a little, endeared by his need for confirmation.

"I do. I do know you, darling."

Darling.

That's what you always called him. That's what he's been unknowingly wanting to hear all these years. That's what makes him feel complete again.

"Can I kiss you?" The question is frantic, his excitement leaking through the words.

You don't give him an answer, opting to push at his chest and jump up slightly, wrapping your legs around his lean waist. It's the same, the way you fit over him, legs slipping into the curve of his waist. He knows he'll fit into you in other ways, too.

He can't wait to complete you, to be your last piece of the puzzle.

You lean into him again, sliding your lips with his, the soft sounds of moisture all he hears. As if on autopilot, his legs move of their own accord, side stepping all the hurdles, all while kissing you with his eyes closed, with a practised ease. And when your back hits the same Bristlecone Pine tree trunk he spent all day slumped against, he remembers why this routine feels rehearsed. Because to put it simply, it is. It's something he's done countless times before, carrying the familiar weight of you to this very spot.

Once there, he presses his body into you, his want eminent in the way it digs you in the thigh, his hands kneading the flesh. He feels himself getting lost in the pleasure, a throaty groan escaping him,

"Give me more."

Part 1 | Part 2

Main Masterlist

[The follow-up smut drabble will be posted soon. Send an ask if you wish to be tagged when it drops.♡]

**The fern flower is a magic flower in Baltic, Estonian and Slavic mythology. According to the myth, this flower blooms for a very short time on the eve of the summer solstice, and represents fertility. This theme will be explored more in part two to this piece.

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© ss-skyearn 2023. All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting and translating any of my works is not allowed.

[clovrecs]

soft; beomgyu x reader

request: beomgyu is our pisces bc I love him and so do u :) key-points: half asleep morning sex, it feels like a dream, he had a very very vivid dream and now your making it come true for him, it’s sweet and feels like clouds and dewy mornings

synopsis: waking up next to you always felt like a blessing to beomgyu, especially when he can show just how much he appreciates you

a/n: in my head, i wrote this for chubbier ppl because i don't see them getting enough representation on here. of course, you could ignore this and make your own interpretation

cw: mentions of a wet dream, slight dry humping, beomgyu is a tits guy, slight oral (f receiving), protected sex

genre: fluff, smut, established relationship

word count: 1.8k

zodiac smut series masterlist

✧༺♥༻∞

You woke up to the sound of rain smattering against the window. It was soft, barely audible, and was a pleasant sound to wake up to. Much like the softness of the rain, your boyfriend's arms were gently wrapped around you. His head was on your chest, and you brought your hand up to the back of his head to keep him there. There was a great need in you to keep him as close as possible. It must have been because you hadn't seen him for so long.

Beomgyu stirred in his sleep as your fingers moved through his hair. It was too cold outside the covers, and he moved closer to you to steal some of your warmth. You watched as his nose scrunched up and his eyes shut tighter. He was waking up.

"Gyu? Wake up, baby.", you petted his head as he nuzzled his face into your chest.

"Why...", he groaned and held you tighter.

"Breakfast?"

"I don't want breakfast."

"You don't want breakfast?"

"No." he grumbled, "I want to stay here."

His voice was raspy and his eyes were still shut. If you ever wanted to do something during the day, then you would have to get him up right now.

"What if I make you your favorite breakfast?", you hum, "Would you get up then?"

With a quiet groan, Beomgyu got on top of you. His elbows leaned on either side of your stomach, and his face was right above your chest. You let him have his moment and laid still on your back. One of his hands went under your sleep shirt, feeling the warm and plush skin of your stomach.

"So I can have you?", he asked with a lazy grin.

"Me?", your face flushed.

"Yeah", he lifted up your shirt slightly and pressed a kiss to your stomach, "You."

You let out a shuttering breath as he kissed down your abdomen, over your hips, and to your thighs. This wasn't a part of your plan to get him out of bed, but you were really appreciating this turn. However, you were starting to wonder what had gotten into him.

"But you wanted breakfast, no?", he stopped.

"Beomgyu...", you sighed, "Could you please not do that today?"

"I'm not doing anything."

"Yeah, that's the problem.", you said, "Why are you even doing this?"

He leaned over you, resting his head on your chest once again. Beomgyu pouted, trying to make you feel some pity for him. It was actually working, but maybe just because he looked so cute.

"I had a dream - a nice dream - and you woke me up from it.", he muttered.

"Oh, I'm sorry.", you petted his head, "I still don't understand why that would make you want to start something."

"Because the dream was about you.", he said quietly, "And I just wanted to continue what was happening in the dream."

Beomgyu shifted so that he could look up at you. Beneath his seemingly innocent facade, laid lust deep in his eyes. You took note of his hard length against your leg as he subtly ground against you.

"Tell me what it was about.", you say as you cup his cheek in your palm.

"We were in bed, like this, but you were on top of me.", he breathed out, "And you didn't have this on..."

He played with the hem of your shirt again, trying to lift it up higher and higher.

"Do you want me to take it off?", you asked.

"Yes, please.", he said almost cutely, and it seemed so out of place for the position you were in.

You sat up, making Beomgyu sit up as well. He was straddling one of your legs as you took off the shirt over your head. As soon as you had thrown the shirt aside, his hands went to your chest to squeeze your boobs. A mischievous giggle left his lips, and you laughed at him.

"Why do you like them so much?", you asked.

"They're boobs?", he said as if that would clarify everything, "They're soft and it feels nice... this is okay, right?"

"It's okay.", you nodded with a delicate laugh.

Beomgyu leaned forward, bringing his lips to yours. He pecked your lips first, smiling at the way you kept your eyes closed, and the way your mouth formed into a pout as a way of asking for more. So he leaned back in, giving you a real kiss. You fell back onto the bed and Beomgyu followed. He pushed his knee between your legs, giving you some relief. You let out a pleased sigh when his lips started to travel down your neck and to your collar bones.

"You're so lovely...", he mutters unprompted against your skin, "So pretty, so admirable, so smart, and wonderful."

A laugh bubbles up from your stomach. He looked into your eyes. In his beautiful brown eyes, you found ocean waves crashing against a rocky shore during a slightly chilly morning. He was both the warmest light felt during the summer evenings and the comforting darkness of a winter morning. Beomgyu was the moon and the stars, but also the rippling water of a shimmering stream. And when he looked at you, you were at a loss for words. No matter that these images appeared in your mind as soon as you saw him because you could never describe them to him.

"Do you really think so highly of me?", you asked with a teasing smile.

"Of course I do.", he planted another kiss on your lips.

"You're such a softie.", you giggled and gently hit his chest.

He grabbed your hand and kept it to his chest. Right above his heart, he pressed your palm flat. There, you felt his heart beat quicker than you could have imagined. He smiled at you, and you kissed it away.

"Did me being sappy ruin the mood?", he asked quietly.

"No, not at all."

"Good."

His hand grazed your side with a feather-like touch. It ghosted over your thigh, his fingertips barely touching you. After a few more kisses down your neck and chest, he sat up and took off his shirt. Like you had before, he threw it somewhere in the room without much forethought. You sat up as well, your hands immediately touching his bare chest. He grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips, kissing each palm before capturing his face with your hands. When your hands were secured on his face, he grabbed your thighs and dragged you closer to him. You now sat with your legs on either side of his, as he was sitting on his knees.

"Can I touch you?", he asked.

You hummed, and with that, he brought his hand to your clothed core. At first, he only cupped you and gently caressed the area. But then his middle and ring finger became focused on your clit. Quiet whimpers formed from your lips at his gentle and slow pace. When a wet patch started to form on your panties, and your breath grew heavier, Beomgyu moved you to lay down again. You lifted your hips and let him pull the last garment off of you. He pressed a soft kiss to your hip before he delved into your pussy. It wasn't messy like it usually was. This time he was precise. He knew what he wanted. And as you grew louder in volume, and you started getting wetter than before, he pulled away. You pouted at him, but you didn't have much time to say anything. Beomgyu pressed a kiss on your lips before turning the two of you around, letting you straddle him. With a small grin, you started to grind against his still-covered erection.

"Let me take these off first.", he grumbled.

You got off him and went to the bedside table. In one of the drawers, you got out a condom and ripped it open. When you turned back to Beomgyu, he had already taken off his boxers and pumped himself up a few times. You took out the rubber and pushed it on his length.

"Come on, I'm getting restless...", Beomgyu huffed.

"Okay, okay, just wait a second.", you giggled as you lined yourself up with him.

When you sank down on him, the two of you let out a unanimous moan. His hands went to hold your thighs, squeezing the flesh there. As you adjusted to him, you slowly started to bounce. In Beomgyu's eyes, you were the prettiest you ever had been at this moment. Your hair was a mess, you had a pleased yet somehow wicked smile, and your soft skin was all on display for him. A buzzing sensation built up in your lower stomach. And even though you felt so amazing, your legs were getting increasingly tired. Your movements grew sloppy, and your climax faded away from you.

"I'm too tired for this...", you groaned and leaned on his chest, subtly grinding on him.

"Do you want me to take over?", Beomgyu asked.

"Please?", you looked up at him.

He nodded and turned the two of you around. With your back on the mattress, he intertwined his hands with yours before he started thrusting into you again. Even your hands are soft, and Beomgyu stops to take in the feeling for a moment. It's only when you start to whine for him to move that he does so.

"You're so demanding...", Beomgyu teases between grunts, "Constantly need to be stuffed with my cock, huh?"

"Please, I'm so close...", you breathe out.

Beomgyu hums, and shifts to bring your legs over his shoulders. Now he was going even deeper, and with his fast pace, you couldn't hold it in for much longer. Neither of you said much more, instead letting your moans and whimpers speak for you. You came first, squeezing around his cock while Beomgyu rubbed lazy circles on your clit. And while you were riding out your high, he came as well. His body leaned on yours, pressing you into the mattress. You had regained some consciousness and wrapped your arms around him. Your fingers traced figures around his back.

"Thank you, Gyu...", you whispered against the top of his head, where you placed a few kisses.

"You're so very welcome...", he mutters against your skin, and you know he means it in a cocky way but it's difficult to get that across when snuggling into someone's chest, "Could we go back to sleep now?"

"No, baby, we have things to do.", you hum, "The breakfast offer still stands."

"I'll make it with you.", he answers and finally gets off of you to lay on his back, "Just give me a minute."

You get up and wobble towards the bathroom, and Beomgyu watches you with a teasing smile. But he doesn't say anything because you have just offered him breakfast, and he doesn't want to risk that.

The sound of rain still echoes against the windows, and Beomgyu takes a deep breath to take it all in before he gets up and discards the condom. He puts on a clean set of lounge-wear and prepares a pile of clothes for you as well. And while he waits for you to get to the kitchen, he prepares everything he needs to make the perfect breakfast.

[clovrecs]

actions have consequences

you’d never liked going to the beach, it always ended with sand in places sand shouldn’t be and sea water on your carseats. yet still, you found yourself applying to become a lifeguard at your college’s hottest summer hangout spot — the beach. you didn’t expect to get accepted, and now your worst nightmare was about to become your reality.

pairing choi soobin x fem! reader (ft. choi yeonjun)

genre fluff, bit of angst, college au, lifeguard! soobin, lifeguard! reader, slice of life

warnings cursing, talk about swimming and drowning and the ocean, alcohol, kissing

the ear-splitting squawking of seagulls was the first reminder of the stupid decision you had made. you gripped your pillow in your hands and stuffed your face into it, squeezing your eyes shut to block out the light. it was fairly difficult considering your cabin was only made of wooden planks riddled with cracks that the light was able to slip through.

rolling over to face away from the window, you stared blankly around the small room. there was just your bed, a wooden chair and a mini fridge. why on earth your employers decided a mini fridge was better than personal bathrooms, you weren’t sure. with a huff, you grabbed your phone to check the time. it was five in the morning, half an hour before your first shift of the summer.

‘shit,’ you pushed yourself up out of bed, almost tripping over your suitcase on your way to the door. uniform in hand, you grabbed your sandals and left your cabin, locking the door behind yourself. as fast as you could, you ran along the wooden pier until you were met with the communal bathrooms.

out of all summer jobs, you managed to get yourself into the worst one possible. you hated everything about the beach, including the people. there was sand and salty water and seaweed that stuck to your feet, as well as shaking dogs and children with sticky hands from their ice cream cones. not to mention how it was always smokey from people barbecuing, and teenagers decorated the beach with empty beer bottles every single night.

tugging the white t-shirt that read, ‘guard,’ in red lettering over your bright red swimsuit, you thanked the universe that the dress code wasn’t a bikini. pushing your way out of your stall, you hurried to brush your teeth as the rest of the girls around you chatted casually. you almost forgot that you were the new girl.

you carried your pyjamas and toiletry bag back to your cabin, exchanging them for your lifeguard kit. looping your whistle around your neck, you locked your cabin door once more. then you became suddenly aware of how tired you were feeling, realising how early in the morning it actually was. you’d rather be spending your summer locked away in your dorm than waking up earlier than the sun for two entire months.

as you turned towards the exit of the pier, you came chest-to-face with a stranger. raising your gaze, you saw that he was smirking back down at you.

‘uhm, sorry,’ you stepped over to your left, letting him pass. but at the same time, he moved to his right. ���you go first.’ laughing lightly at the situation, you stepped out of the way once again.

‘what’s your name?’ you were so taken aback by the question that you simply stared at him. ‘i’ve never seen you around here.’

‘it’s my first day,’ you explained. ‘and my name is y/n.’

‘well, y/n, if you ever need someone to show you a good time, i’ll be eternally available,’ the boy smiled, making you force a smile back in his direction. college boys sure were forward. ‘i’ll be in cabin eight, just so you know.’

‘leave her alone, yeonjun,’ another voice cut the two of you off. you turned to face a slightly taller boy, happy that he came to your rescue. the boy you assumed to be yeonjun shrugged and began walking in the direction of the bathrooms. ‘sorry about him. he’s actually very sweet, just flirts with anything with a pulse.’

‘thank you,’ you smiled, awkwardly staring down at the wood beneath your feet. ‘i have to go, lives to guard.’

‘yeah, of course,’ he stepped out of your way, watching you all but flee the scene from embarrassment.

lives to guard? groaning to yourself, you were almost glad to be planting your feet on the hot sand. there stood your supervisor, a clipboard in hand as she scanned the beach.

‘morning, newbie,’ she greeted you, scrolling through her list. ‘since it’s your first shift, i’ll put you up on that tower over there in the middle. a mentor should be with you soon, and your lunch break is at eleven. don’t worry, though, i’m sure soobin stashed enough snacks for the both of you.’

‘sure, thank you,’ clutching your bag, you turned on your heels and headed for the lifeguard tower. it was quite large, enough to fit at least five people onto the platform alone. then there was a small white room perched atop it, where you assumed all the equipment needed for an emergency was situated.

you sat with your feet dangling, eyes scanning the scarce beach. a few old couples occupied it, walking their dogs before it became too busy. it wasn’t too sunny yet, although you wished you’d bought yourself a visor when you’d had the chance.

ten minutes passed before you saw another lifeguard come down onto the beach. it was the taller boy who has saved yeonjun’s attempt to label you his summer fling, and he was headed your way. oh god, he’s soobin. naturally, he turned to the steps leading up to you, flashing you a perfect smile, dimples and all.

‘so you’re my mentor with a stash of snacks,’ you stood up, holding your hand out towards him. he stared at you blankly before realising you wanted him to shake your hand. ‘sorry, was that too formal for a lifeguard?’

‘only slightly,’ he laughed softly at your awkward approach. ‘but are you hungry? i always bring food to break up the long day of sitting and watching people.’

‘not usually at this time of the day,’ you watched him sit down, and instantly followed to sit at his side. ‘but i am now that i’m awake.’

‘yeah, it’s a difficult routine to get used to,’ he agreed, placing his bright red bag at his side. ‘so… do you live around here?’

‘not exactly,’ you gratefully accepted the breakfast bar from his offering hand. ‘i’m a student at the college.’

‘me too,’ soobin sent you another one of his perfect smiles. ‘yeonjun forced me into this job last year. he’s graduating next summer and wants to work the beach one last time.’

‘lot’s of opportunity for dates, i guess,’ taking a bite, you turned to face the beach again. ‘he’s quite the charmer.’ the two of you laughed together at your joke, and you were glad you got paired up with someone as sweet as soobin.

by the end of your second week, you’d gotten the hang of things. the days were getting longer and hotter and you found yourself shopping for that visor as well as a bikini you promised yourself you wouldn’t buy. but who could say no to a cute, cherry red bikini that had, ‘lifeguard,’ printed along the hems?

soobin was easily your closest friend out of the lifeguards. he introduced you to his four college friends, too, but it didn’t stick completely. except for maybe beomgyu, because who could resist such a sweet energetic boy?

the only downside of scooting your way into an all-boys group was the pure hatred felt by the other girls. it wasn’t in your plan to make any enemies, especially not with the people who had access to your shampoo bottles. a new fear of going completely bald or a ridiculous colour overnight had been unlocked, for sure.

still, you spent most of your days with soobin. it was routine to sit on the lifeguard tower all day, sharing snacks and stories. you always teased soobin for not being able to swim, and he threatened to put sand into every pair of your shoes in return. he’d taught you all the basics of being a lifeguard, which is how you caught up so quickly.

he always switched his shifts to be with you, and would accompany you to lunch everyday. you’d miss him at dinner sometimes, but he would check up on you before you were off to bed. and both fridays, he treated you to ice cream. a small part of you was hoping it would become your new weekly tradition.

‘good morning, y/n,’ beomgyu called from across the beach, waving you over. he was your mentor for the day, despite the fact you were sure you didn’t need one anymore. ‘what’d you bring?’

‘every kind of fruit you could imagine,’ you teased, making your way up to the tower and sitting cross-legged on the ground. he grimaced but took a seat opposite you, waiting for you to tell him you were just kidding. ‘i’m just taking care of you.’

‘no fun,’ he shook his head. ‘yeonjun always has the best snacks.’

‘well, he’s right over there with soobin,’ you pointed out, gesturing towards the two sitting on some beach chairs. oh how you envied the ground shifts, as beomgyu had nicknamed them. ‘we can swap if you want. but take this, i packed you all a fruit tub each.’

‘ugh, fine,’ he grabbed the two containers from you before pushing himself up onto his feet. ‘just because soobin is your favourite.’

‘bring back those containers later!’ you called after him, following him with your gaze. he went to talk to the boys, and you watched as soobin nodded to himself as he listened. the smile that spread across your lips couldn’t be helped.

he was so dreamy with the way his eyes crinkled and his dimples appeared when he smiled, and he was so tall which made him a lot easier to spot from a distance. he always wore his t-shirt and some cherry red swim trunks, but occasionally he would use the bottom of his shirt to wipe at his eyes or face. every time he did so, you would hope he was going to take it off.

his eyes met yours and he gestured for you to come down. you smiled, shaking your head and patting the space beside you. he excused himself from the conversation, brushing his hair back with his hand as he made his way over.

but the moment was easily interrupted when you spotted two young boys practically drowning each other in the sea. struggling to grab your whistle, you made your way onto the beach before you were able to blow it. pulling the boys apart, you lectured them both about the dangers of holding each other under the water. they both looked glum as they made their way back to their parents who were too busy reading to notice.

‘hey,’ soobin came up behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders and turning you around. ‘are you free tonight?’

‘why?’ you made your way back up to your tower. ‘i mean, obviously, but why?’

‘there’s going to be a party tonight,’ he explained. ‘on the pier, after the sun sets. probably just a bunch of people hanging out in each other’s cabins and making out under those hideous christmas lights. i thought you and i could get away from it all.’

‘but a party sounds nice,’ you pouted, reclaiming your spot with your back against the wall. pulling out your water bottle, you waited for soobin to say something else. ‘i need it after a day as hot as this one.’

‘well, that’s fine too,’ he pursed his lips, looking off to the distance. ‘i guess it could be fun.’

you hardly noticed the silence that fell over the two of you after the party discussion until you realised it was lunch time. ‘so, where to?’ you asked hopefully, but soobin’s response was definitely not what you were expecting.

‘having lunch with the guys today,’ he rushed out, slinging his bag onto his shoulder and almost running from you. being left in the dust, you slowly packed your things up and made your way back up to the pier. then you saw him talking to one of the girls, who he led towards the street. you felt your jaw drop at the sight.

rolling your eyes, you entered your cabin and slammed the door behind you. unsurprisingly, beomgyu was sprawled across your bed. ‘so you saw it, i’m guessing?’

‘saw what?’ you snapped back bitterly. ‘and i need you out of my room so i can lock up while i shower.’

‘you saw soobin with another girl,’ he laughed. ‘don’t act clueless, y/n, we all know you have a thing for him.’

‘i don’t,’ turning to face beomgyu, you shot him a glare. ‘i’m just mad he lied to me about having lunch with you guys. really, who does that? besides, i like someone else.’

‘is it me?’ he rolled over onto his stomach, placing his chin in his palm and fluttering his eyelashes at you.

‘it most certainly is not,’ you grabbed your spare lifeguard t-shirt, throwing the material in his face. ‘i’ve witnessed you drunk, gyu, there’s no coming back from that.’

‘i’m just saying,’ he stood up, dropping your t-shirt onto your bed. ‘with soobin out of the picture, you have more time for me.’

‘oh, sure,’ flicking off your light, you forced beomgyu out of your cabin. ‘want to get lunch with me? i promise no more fruit.’

soobin never came back after lunch. it wasn’t like you were worried, considering you didn’t know when his shift started and ended. beomgyu had took it upon himself to sit with you until the sun began to set, pushing all of your buttons. he jumped from singing in a ridiculous voice to trying to flip your water bottle to hiding your whistle all over the beach.

you were pretty much exhausted by the time you finished washing all the sand and sea water off your skin, but you couldn’t escape the pier party. soobin turned out to be right about the christmas lights. pushing your way through college kids drinking and kissing turned your one minute trip to your cabin into a five minute trip.

out of instinct, you checked your phone for messages. there was one from taehyun asking if you’d seen soobin, but none from the boy you all seemed to be searching for. falling back on your bed, you frowned up at the dark wooden ceiling. you knew beomgyu or yeonjun would be here to drag you out of your pitiful state soon, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

it sounded like soobin was asking you out just hours ago, but now he was disappearing for the entire day with girls you’d never seen before. maybe if you hadn’t been so stupid to shoot him down so quick, he’d be at your door about to pick you up. there was a knock on your door before it swung open, and there stood yeonjun.

your relationship with him was awkward. in fact, he was the first person that came to mind when you lied to beomgyu about liking someone other than soobin. because he was crazy attractive and had his way with words and sometimes you caught yourself staring at his lips wondering what it’d be like to kiss them. he enjoyed flirting with you and you let him, but he knew you had feelings for his best friend. you weren’t close like you were with beomgyu, it wasn’t casual like it was with taehyun and kai, and it certainly wasn’t whatever you had with soobin.

‘come on,’ he sat beside you, pulling you up to sit. ‘i’ll be your date for the night. i can show you that good time i promised.’

‘it never stops, does it?’ you laughed at his attempt to cheer you up. ‘but sure, i’d like that.’

he grabbed your hand, leading you out onto the pier. the music was deafening but it was also freeing to hear some loud guitar and drums. beach goers loved to play the latest pop songs, and it drove you mad at how repetitive they were.

‘i’ll get us some drinks,’ yeonjun leaned in to say, leaving you to rest against the railing to examine the area. that was when you saw soobin and the mystery girl down at the beach. your expression and heart dropped all at once.

honestly, you felt stupid. actions have consequences, is what you tried to tell yourself. it was only your own fault. soobin said he lived by that, considering he was working as a lifeguard but he couldn’t even swim himself. you agreed when you explained how you had a deep hatred for the beach but somehow ended up in the same predicament. if you hadn’t picked the party over a night with soobin, maybe you would’ve been walking hand-in-hand down the beach with him as he was with her.

‘sorry, line was long,’ yeonjun handed you a red solo cup. ‘i have no idea what’s in it.’

‘i don’t care,’ you finished the drink in a few gulps. ‘i’m getting a refill.’

yeonjun didn’t understand what had gotten into you until he spotted the scene on the beach. he shrugged it off and let you do whatever you felt like doing, it wasn’t his heartbreak to deal with. you returned to see the couple had retired from their romantic stroll under the stars, and the thought alone made you roll your eyes. before you knew it, the two had made their way up to the pier and were talking to a small group.

you gestured for yeonjun to lean in closer until you were sure only he could hear you. ‘i need you to kiss me,’ he chewed on his bottom lip in thought, glancing over at the couple. ‘i need to see if soobin has any sort of feelings for me.’

‘how dramatic should i be about it?’ he beamed. you could tell he was loving this evil plan of yours.

‘enough to be attention grabbing but not so much so that beomgyu starts wolf-whistling,’ you nodded, mentally preparing yourself. ‘and enough that soobin sees.’

without another word, yeonjun grabbed your face and placed his thumbs over your lips. he pulled you into the fake kiss, the force of it making you grab onto his t-shirt for support. he’d angled it perfectly so that soobin couldn’t see his trick of blocking the kiss with his thumbs. seconds felt like minutes before he pulled away, smiling at you lovingly like lovers would do. you returned the smile, his hands still cupping your face.

when you glanced in soobin’s direction, he was you watching over the top of his cup. he was quick to look away, and that was the last you saw of him for the rest of the night.

everything that could’ve went wrong, had went wrong. soobin stopped hanging out with yeonjun and beomgyu, because you came with them like a free gift. and he was mad at yeonjun, because he had known about his feelings for you when he kissed you. taehyun and kai were caught in the middle, but ended up on your side most of the time. they adored soobin, but they weren’t the biggest fans of the girl always trailing at his side.

you hated how things had switched. beomgyu’s singing was no longer annoying, you simply watched soobin’s every move from the tower as the former switched between different tones and genres every second. you always packed some extra fruit or vegetables for soobin, forgetting he was never around to take them from you. you’d search for him before lunch or dinner, only to discover he’d already left.

sometimes you would see him and the girl around. they didn’t seem awfully friendly, but it felt like you were being replaced. you missed shifts with soobin, talking about nothing important all day under the sun. and his dimples when he smiled, or how easily he got shy from your teasing. his laugh was contagious and addictive at the same time, but he didn’t laugh much anymore.

you thought you were being dramatic, he was only around for two of the four weeks you had been working. but did time really have anything to do with intensity? you weren’t sure.

the only thing you were sure about was that everything had became dull without soobin. it was a continuous cycle of waking up to seagulls, showering in a dull communal bathroom and watching strangers have fun all day. even the pier parties seemed like a bore. you locked your door and listened to music through headphones at every single one.

actions have consequences. you never should’ve taken a job at a place you despised, you never should’ve made soobin think you kissed yeonjun. it was petty of you, and now you were paying for it.

everyday you would pass soobin, and everyday it was awkward. like he was a stranger, not the cheerful boy you had met on your first day. you had to get yourself out of there.

‘i’m thinking about leaving early,’ you announced at dinner, making yeonjun drop his spoon. beomgyu stared at you wide-eyed as if you had just told him the worst news in the world. ‘i know it’s a two month job that ends with the summer, but i hate it here. the sand is starting to ruin all of my days.’

‘you could just talk to him,’ beomgyu aggressively shook his head as yeonjun tried to reason with you. the younger was practically begging you to take it back. ‘soobin has always been a believer in communication. you can work it out.’

‘this has nothing to do with soobin,’ you avoided their eyes, staring down at your plate. ‘i already told you guys i hate the beach. sure, having soobin around made it a less painful, but i still hated it.’

‘but you’re our y/n,’ beomgyu whined. ‘we need you.’

‘i’ll see you at college in autumn,’ you comforted him, patting the top of his head. ‘i’ll even let you have a sleepover at my dorm.’

beomgyu was still sulking after you’d finished eating and wished the boys farewell as you made your way to your cabin. pulling out your suitcase from under your bed, you began folding your clothes to place them neatly into it. but getting bored easily, you grabbed your phone and dived back onto your bed.

word had already spread to the two youngest boys. kai promised he would eat any nutritious snack you handed to him if it would make you stay, and taehyun asked you if you would go swimming with him one more time. beomgyu was spamming you with crying gifs, whereas yeonjun told you not to pay attention to their pleas.

the knock on your door was expected. you pulled it open thinking it would be beomgyu, but there stood soobin in all his glory. his hair was windswept and he was out of breath, as if he had just ran a mile in a minute.

‘um,’ you cleared your throat. ‘did you run all—?’

there was no going back now. soobin wasn’t the impulsive type, but there he was cupping your cheek and pulling you into a kiss. your eyes shot open in realisation before you relaxed into the kiss. but before you could kiss him back, he pulled away.

‘was that too much?’ his cheeks reddened. ‘i’m sorry.’

‘no, it was fine,’ you nodded, smiling. ‘i didn’t kiss yeonjun.’

‘i know,’ his tongue came out to wet his lips. ‘and she isn’t my girlfriend.’

‘i know,’ you copied, staring up into his eyes. ‘can you—?’

before you could finish your question, he pulled you back into his arms. you looped your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. you were given the chance to kiss him back, reassuring him about your feelings. his hands moved from your face to your waist, not wanting to let you go.

‘so… will you stay?’

‘because i kissed you i’m obligated to stay?’

‘actions have consequences, y/n,’

the sound of beomgyu wolf-whistling was quickly cut off by yeonjun slapping his hand over his mouth. the two of you parted instantly, turning to see the duo hanging out of yeonjun’s cabin.

[clovrecs]

omg pls idk if u did it but chapstick challenge w beomgyu would be the cutest thing ever ☹️☹️

chapstick challenge w/ beomgyu ♡̩͙ˊˎ!

your wish is my command anonnie :D i loved writing teasing gyu jdhdjd he’s a menace fr

“okay,” beomgyu shrugs, throwing his phone on the couch. “anything to do with kissing you has an automatic yes from me.”

you originally thought it’d take a couple tries to convince your boyfriend to do the new, stupid challenge floating around social media, but surprisingly, it only took one puny attempt and undetailed explanation to get him on board. of course, his reason for participation being that the ‘chapstick challenge’ involved kissing, and also simply the fact that it was a challenge, and beomgyu was never one to turn down one of those.

you blink, “oh. i wasn’t expecting a yes that quick.” you stand from the couch, pacing off to the bedroom. “let me go get the chapsticks then, mr big shot.” he snickers at your nickname, manspreading confidently as you eventually rush back in with a red tie and a packet of flavored lip product hidden behind your back. once you kneel down and set your phone up on the coffee table, beomgyu takes a seat on the carpet while begrudgingly tying the neckpiece over his eyes, lips perked up in determination .

as soon as the tie is secured around his face, he starts cluelessly swinging his arms around in search of you, struggling to find your figure as your apply a grape flavoured lip balm. “yah, is this a prank? where are you?”

rolling your eyes at his impatience, you cup his cheeks to let him know you hadn’t abandoned him, giggling when he flinches and lets out a surprised yelp. “okay, ready for the first one?” you inquire.

immediately, beomgyu puckers his lips in an exaggerated manner, “i’ve been ready. c’mon, baby.”

deciding to not tease him for once, you lean in, kissing him softly. beomgyu on the other hand is more than eager to feel you; bringing you closer by your waist to deepen the kiss. at first, you believe it’s part of his strategy to win as he licks your lips innocently, but that all goes down the drain as he playfully shoves his tongue into your mouth.

you hastily pull away, sending him a displeased glare even if he can’t see it. “beomgyu,” you scold, watching the blind idiot lean forward in an attempt to kiss you again with no avail, “i know what you’re doing.”

“what! i did nothing!” he defends in a honest tone, but you quickly catch on to the miniature, smug smirk on his now wet lips.

“you’re supposed to be guessing flavours, not making out with me!”

he pouts, sitting criss cross again. “but making out is more fun, don’t you think?”

“gyu, if you don’t want to—“

before you can move to stand up, you’re already being pushed back down by your shoulders. “okay, okay! geez, you’re so serious,” he mumbles jokingly. “i’m gonna try for real this time, seriously.”

you sigh, reaching across the table to apply a new, fresh layer of grape chapstick. “alright then, ready?”

beomgyu nods, sitting in anticipation as you hold his arms still and bring him into another sweet kiss. you don’t move much, letting your boyfriend start his seemingly focused investigation. suddenly, he bends lower to suck your bottom lip for a few seconds, making your brows furrow in confusion.

“hmm.. what could it be..” he mumbles in a serious tone, and yet you swear you see him try to stifle a laugh.

gaining more suspicion by the minute, you raise a brow. “babe, it seriously can’t be that hard. i purposely chose an easy flavor first.”

beomgyu rudely ignores your words, much too busy resuming his hasty attack on your lips with his own. it’s messy and downright aggressive as he takes turns kissing every inch of your upper and bottom lip, tongue mischievously poking out every once in a while. at this point, you doubt there’s any chapstick left on your lips, but you couldn’t deny that all the affection you were receiving was appealing.

you take it all back when you feel a gentle nip of pain, “ow!” you snap, glaring down at the boy who had just bit your bottom lip. “what the hell was that for?”

snickering, he takes off the makeshift blindfold. “sorry, just felt like it.” realising this whole idea was a total fail, you huff in defeat, watching as beomgyu licks his lips before humming in satisfaction.

you send him an unimpressed frown, “can you at least guess the flavor?”

“grape,” he instantly replies, “i already knew that since the first kiss.”

you pause, jaw dropping as you attempt to process his confession. it was truly a mystery how you ended up dating the biggest dork on planet earth. “gyu, are you kidding me?!”

even if he’s anything but, beomgyu shrugs with innocent eyes before tossing the blindfold over to you. “nope. now put this on, baby. it’s your turn to kiss me, don’t you think?”

clearly, your boyfriend wasn’t here to guess lip balm flavors. you groan, picking up the tie and accepting your defeat, watching beomgyu reach over for the chapstick with his classic, stupid grin on his face.

woops this was longer than i anticipated 😭 still not gonna add my taglist tho jshdj, if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated!

[clovrecs]

txt sexual guilty pleasures (s)

the things txt loves to do with you, but would never openly admit it

pairing : ot5!txt x afab!reader

warnings : yeonjun tit sucking, soobin breath play, beomgyu swallowing EVERYTHING from you, taehyun nudes and kinda pervy, kai public settings <33

wc : 1.3k words

・choi yeonjun

staying over at the boys dorm was always sensual. you never wanted to get caught by beomgyu or taehyun, cause your poor yeonjun wouldn’t hear the end of it, so you resorted on keeping your dirty fantasies at home. it was getting pretty late and the movie you were watching with yeonjun had your full attention. yeonjun was laying on top of you and resting his head in your boobs, his favorite pillow. at first, yeonjun’s hand was drawing circles on the part of your stomach your crop top couldn’t cover. it was sweet, until you felt his hand wander up to the hem of your shirt.

“yeonjun…” you quietly whispered. you didn’t know if the other boys were sleeping, but you did know beomgyu was still out with his friends. “baby everyone’s asleep.” he looks up at you with his perfect pouty lips and fully pulls your crop top up to stare at your boobs, gently massaging them. “you’re like my own personal baby.” not wanting to decline his offer, you rake your fingers through his hair.

“i am your baby.” and he lowers his head into your chest to start sucking. planting his mouth around your sensitive nipples and using his tounge to tease you. he softly groans which make you shut your eyes tight, trying to suppress any noise to fall out of your mouth.

the movie has become background noise as your boobs are lathered in his saliva. by the time you want to try and pull yeonjun off and into a kiss, the front door is open and you quickly cover yeonjuns head with your hiked up shirt. beomgyu stares at the scene before shaking his head and going into his room.

・choi soobin

whenever you had sex with soobin it was simply vanilla. you never tried hard to change it, believing that your desires would come out on its own. so you didn’t pressure him, but one night while riding his length soobin grabbed your wrist and brought it up to his neck.

whenever you had sex with soobin it was simply vanilla. you never tried hard to change it, believing that your desires would come out on its own. so you didn’t pressure him, but one night while riding his length soobin grabbed your wrist and brought it up to his neck.

“choke me.” he quietly moans, you’ve never been more aroused in your life. quickening your pace and rolling your hips as soobin tightens your grips around his throat. the blonde hairs of his stick to his forehead and his eyes roll back.

he’s groaning more and more, and you can’t stop yourself from hitting your climax. soobin lifts his hips of his bed to slam his release into you. you both let go of his neck and pant in sync. “can i try choking, you, now?”

・choi beomgyu

anytime beomgyu saw you slip anything into your mouth, he wanted to try to, but he’d only ever do it in private. it would start off innocent, seeing you take a sip of an americano, beomgyu would reach for your cup and take a swig too.

until he started getting confident. drinking together as ominous music plays in your apartment, your sat in beomgyus lap and take a shot from the glass he handed you. before you could swallow, beomgyu opened his mouth with a glimmer in his eyes. either it was the alcohol in your system, or rather beomgyu himself, you clashed your mouths together to give him a taste too. he swallows the drink with a proud smile.

moments later you’re on your back laying on the couch as beomgyu releases his seed inside of you. out of breath and in a trance you pull him into a kiss before he pulls away to slide himself out. you get on your forearms believing that this was the wrap of your spontaneous night with your boyfriend, but he lowers himself and gathers the mix of fluids on his tongue. lapping around with his tounge and gathering the excess out of your hole, he swallows and overstimulates you, beomgyu ends with a quick peck to your lips

・kang taehyun

you’re hanging out with your friends when you look at your phone for the first time since you left your home and see spam texts from your boyfriend. you furrow your eyebrows at the amount of messages he’s sent and wonder what they could be. when you open them, you’re taken aback at the dirt words and pictures. you can feel a blush painting on your face and look side to side to see if any of your friends saw them too.

taehyun had sent you his bulge through his boxers with an alluring comment asking you why your panties were left on the bed. you bite your lip and send him a reassuring text message. i was rushed!! wait for me you smile as you press send. but soon your message is quickly disliked.

now, you’ve been sent a video which thumbnail is taehyun hand and your lace panties wrapped around his member. the pink haired boy is closing his eyes, slim body fitting the frame. you scoot over your friends and slip into the public restroom, when you finally click the video, you’re pressing your thighs together as his hands slide up and down himself.

taehyuns mouth parts and his cum leaks into your undergarments. you click your tongue as you’re in a huge predicament. he sends one last text which simply reads:

i couldn’t wait

・huening kai

having dinner with kais parents doesn’t add up with having your hands in his pants. logically. but, your huening kai couldn’t stop from wanting a handjob, and he was one to get anything if he sulked. so here you were sitting beside him unzipping he’s jeans at the dining table while his mom rushed around preparing the food.

“slow down… please.” he whispers in your ear. you don’t listen to him since he’s forced you in this position. you quicken your pace as it’s becoming easier to go up and down his length.

“we should have just waited for tonight, hm?” you look up at his face and pause, kai throws his head back in response to the lack of friction. his mom begins to ask kai what his plans are for tomorrow. you begin again as you wait for him to respond.

“i have schedules tomorrow.” his voice is shaking and he’s somewhat above a whisper, when he sits up from the chair you understand he’s close to his climax. she asks him to repeat himself and be covers his mouth to suppress a moan.

his release gathers along your fingers as he’s huffing out. you bring your hands out from his pants and get up from your seat. slotting two digits into your mouth and savoring the saltiness while staring at your boyfriend. you walk to the kitchen and repeat the words kai couldn’t say to his mom.

“he said he had schedules.” leaning over the sink and letting the water clean your sticky hands.

didn’t proof read. my reqs are open for anyone who’d like to send horny thotsss;)

[clovrecs]

guilty pleasure ㅡ c.sb

pairing: dom!soobin x gn!reader

genre: smut

wc: 1.0k

warnings: kitchen s*x, unprotected (wrap before you tap!), dirty talk, stomach bulge, creampie, pet names (angel), pt. 2 of soobin fucking in the dorms kinda idk

the bed was empty once soobin woke up.

soft sunlight peeked out behind the curtains, capturing his body in a radiant golden glow. the sweltering heat made soobin's soft white sheets stick to his bare chest. it wrapped around his chest neatly, treating him as if he were a greek god. (if it were up to you, you'd mistake him as one for his refined build and looks, anyways.)

"___?" he calls out, his mind still dazed and sleepy. it's only when a few minutes pass with no reply that soobin decides to venture out for you. perhaps you've gone back home already. he wonders if you went home safe.

the boy stumbles out of his dorm room, footsteps pattering against the wooden floorboard while he rubs his eyes. it only takes him a minute of looking when he finally spots you in the kitchen, quietly heating up the stove. you're so cute and tiny, soobin thinks. you're only wearing one of his t-shirts, the material being so big for you you're almost drowning in the fabric.

you giggle, turning your head to press a kiss on his cheek. you can see his face is flushed, painted a muted pink. "m'sorry. just wanted to make breakfast." you whisper. he doesn't reply, just offering you a nod as he hides his head in your neck. soobin deeply inhales, taking in your scent before exhaling. the hot fanning of his breath sends tingles down your spine.

the house is quiet. the cracking of eggs barely echo across the walls. the other members are sound asleep, and soobin still clings to you like an oversized teddy bear. he nuzzles into your neck occasionally, hair tickling your jaw.

the house is quiet. the cracking of eggs barely echo across the walls. the other members are sound asleep, and soobin still clings to you like an oversized teddy bear. he nuzzles into your neck occasionally, hair tickling your jaw.

soon enough, the eggs are cooked and the plates are prepared. you've just about turned off the stove when soobin starts pressing himself against you, bringing the two of you closer. "mmh, bin, let go," you whine, bracing yourself against a counter. soobin groans in response, cupping your ass through the fabric. "no underwear?" he questions, pulling up his shirt as he ruts directly into your bare ass. “didn’t wear any,” you reply, flaunting yourself for him. he hisses at the sight, planting a kiss behind your ear. "you're a tease." he says. you whimper when soobin bends you over the kitchen counter, barely pulling down his sweatpants and boxers to release his hardening cock. "fuck, look at you," he whispers. "bent over my kitchen counter, you do realize other people live here too?" two of his digits plunge themselves into your entrance, slowly opening you up for him. you let out a strangled moan before immediately slapping a hand over your mouth. "as much as i want to hear you, you need to stay quiet." soobin says, the thrill of fucking you in a place his members can just walk in at anytime seeped into his veins. while he's never really been interested at the idea of people just walking in whenever he makes love to you, the stiffness of his cock shows just how excited he is to do this with you. he almost feels guilty for doing it.

gently, a third digit is pushed into your walls. your eyes start rolling back when the tip of one of his fingers brush against a spot that had your knees going weak. just when you feel like you're about to reach the edge, soobin pulls his fingers out of you. he cleans them with his mouth, moaning at the taste. the sudden loss of pleasure makes you whine for him again. "quiet, angel. i'll give you what you want." he soothes, pushing his wet fingers into your mouth. he pulls you up from the counter, your back now fully against his toned chest. soon enough, he was aligning the head of his cock at your freshly opened entrance. without missing a beat, he thrusts himself inside fully, your warm walls clenching around him following the intrusion. a broken moan tumbles out of your mouth, soobin’s fingers barely muffling it. soobin grinds himself into you slowly, allowing both of you to adjust at the feeling. “you really need to be quiet now angel.” he warns you, fingers gripping and holding your jaw firmly. you nod at him to move, and soobin lets go of his restraint.

he pounds his cock into you, barely pulling out an inch of his length before he slams his way back in. your hole clenches uncontrollably, squeezing his cock tightly. the pace he sets is hard and fast, overwhelming you in an instant. soobin’s hands wander all over your body, squeezing your thighs and gripping your waist. it’s not until soobin’s hands press against your stomach that his pace begins to stutter and slow.

“fuck, i’m so big for you, aren’t i?" he moans into your ear. the fingers gripping your jaw force you to look down at your stomach, a prominent bulge showing off through the skin. the sight makes you see stars. he really is that fucking big.

one of his hands cup himself through the skin, watching it slowly move in the rhythm of his thrusts.

"i'm close," you whine. your words are muffled because of soobin's fingers, but he understands anyways. "let go, angel." he says, and his words make you come almost immediately after, juices dripping down your body. "so good for me." soobin mumbles.

it doesn't take much longer for soobin to finish as well, his seed painting your walls and filling you to the brim. you felt so unbearably full of your boyfriend, his cock still plugging you full of his release.

"we should do this again." he speaks up suddenly, breaking the silence.

you might have to consider his words later.

[clovrecs]

Hey Emo Boy!

☆ Song suggestion: Emo Boy, Ayesha Erotica ☆

Summary:

He worked at the Spencer’s store in the mall— you worked at the Claire’s store right in front. What can you say? Match made in heaven. 

bassist!Beomgyu x fem! reader

Genre: opposites attract trope, friends to lovers, fluff, smut

Word count: 9.4K

Warnings: mc dresses like a BIMBO and we love it! mc gets stereotyped a bit, lots of piercings, needles, (bg gets pierced lol) mc has a smiley and nipple piercings, bg has snake bites and a tongue piercing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, cursing, Chaeryeong is a real one

Smut warnings: dom!bg, sub!mc, slight possessiveness, teasing, making out, thigh riding, dirty talk, dumbification, praise, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, nipple play, bg loves mc’s boobs, oral, (f receiving) fingering, hair pulling, bulge kink, scratching, unprotected sex, breeding kink(?), creampie (lemme know if I should add anything!)

Notes: im sorry, but Beomgyu’s long hair era has me in such a chokehold that I think I passed out and wrote this. I’d like to think that in the concert their opener was “Destroya” by mcr (assuming that its their song in this universe) And why yes, I do have a list of other songs they would perform, you can totally go ask me this on my blog! 

Your friends always said you had an obscure taste in men— you always laughed in their face in response. 

But as you stand behind the Claire’s register, ready to clock back onto a never-ending ten-hour shift of piercing little girl’s ears unprofessionally, you can’t help but be reminded of the thought. 

There he is again, your brain tells you, an involuntary reaction as you pause your actions to glance out into the empty mall; just in time to watch the cute boy with snake bite piercings that works at the store across from you rush inside. 

Honestly, whose idea was it to put a Spencer’s in front of a Claire’s store? It was a mistake waiting to happen— but you indulged in it nonetheless, the convenient placement allowing you to catch a glimpse of one of the workers that captivated you. You’re not sure of his name, and you’re not sure you can bring yourself to talk to him— you’ve never gone into a Spencer's, and plan to keep it that way. Honestly, his whole style couldn’t be more opposite than yours, but there was something about him that made you curious, eager for more. 

“Are you staring at that emo boy again?” You jump at the sound of your coworkers voice, startled to find her standing behind you, a knowing look on her face as she shakes her head. “Girl, just go fuck him already.” 

“Shut up!” You balk, glancing around the store in a panic to see if there were any customers around— it was empty, considering it was a Thursday evening, “and no, I wasn’t.” 

“Don’t lie to me,” Chaeryeong says, checking her acrylics absentmindedly, leaning against the counter with a sigh, “you’ve been staring at him all week. You should totally go talk to him.” 

“You think? I don’t know if he’d be into someone like me though,” you look down at your outfit, the complete opposite of what the man in the store across from you sported— while his outfit consisted of dark, edgy outfits, yours were nothing but feminine and cute. 

“Why not? You’re hot,” Chaeryeong’s words bring an uncontrollable swell of confidence to you, and you allow yourself to bask in the compliments that she continues to goad onto you.

“He’s lucky you tone down your fits to suit this place, cause if you didn’t,” she whistles, exaggerating her reaction as you slap her shoulder jokingly, “man, we’d be swamped with customers.” 

“You really think I should try to talk to him?” You ask, biting your lip nervously at the thought; what if he was an asshole? What if he thought you were some superficial bimbo? Was he one of those creeps that thought they were better than women? What if he was gay?

“Stop overthinking things, I can see the questions from here,” Chaeryeong bats at the air mockingly, laughing at the petulant look you give her. Her teasing is interrupted by the motion sensor bell going off, and the two of you are quick to put on your customer-service personas as you turn to face the new customers with a happy smile. 

“Next chance you get, go up and talk to him. Don’t overthink and it’ll go great, I promise,” Chaeryeong whispers to you, leaving you on your own as the mother calls her over to ask a question about the piercings. 

Glancing back at the Spencer’s across from you, you can’t help but let out a sigh of desperation— you really hope she’s right. 

⤬⤬⤬

You decide to make your move on a Friday night. 

It was one of your few days off, and according to Chaeryeong, the cute boy was working tonight. 

You had been quick to throw together a cute outfit as you made your way to the mall— to pay a visit to your friend and your crush. 

The store was just as you had expected— low lights, fandom merch, and a fuck ton of adult products. You were caught off guard by the sight of it all, the stark contrast of the store and your outfit leaving you to stick out uncomfortably— not that anyone seemed to care, thankfully. You were quick to find yourself browsing through the jewelry, uninterested in everything else as you found a couple of cute earrings and necklaces to buy. 

To your disappointment, you had yet to see the cute boy that you had been crushing on; your heart shattered at the thought of you missing your opportunity to talk to him. Yet, just as you were being checked out by another worker, your luck seemed to turn around. 

“Hey, you doing anything tomorrow night?” Your head snapped up in the middle of you taking out your card, surprised to find the cashier asking you this question so suddenly. Behind him, you can see the cute emo boy emerge from the employee room. 

“Uhm, why do you ask?” You try to prolong the conversation as you watch the cute boy make his way up to the counter, your heart beating faster at the thought of you finally getting to talk to him. 

“There’s this band playing at a nearby venue,” the cashier, Yeonjun, his name tag reads, hands you a flyer, your eyes scanning the words as you take in the information printed onto it, “you should definitely go. I’m in it, actually.”

“Yeonjun, you shouldn’t be promoting that while working.” The new voice has you looking up from your flyer quicker than you can process— and to your delight, the cute emo boy stands behind your cashier with a frown on his face. 

Yeonjun narrows his eyes, turning around to look at his coworker. Shaking his head, he clasps the boy on the shoulder as he shakes him around, the boy unfazed as he allows him to do so. 

“Shut up, I think she’d love to go,” sending you a smile, he winks, and you can only manage to smile shakily in return, “he’s a part of it too; the bassist.”

You hope your sudden interest isn’t obvious, but you can’t help the way you perk up at Yeonjun’s words, staring back down at the flyer in your hands with a newfound eagerness— hey, if the music was bad, the worst that could happen is you getting the ick and moving on. 

“I’ll try my best to go,” you say, trying to play it cool as you smile at them; you briefly glance at the cute boy’s name tag— Beomgyu, it reads— and stuff the flyer in your purse, enjoying the way they (mostly Yeonjun— okay, only Yeonjun) seem to beam at your words. 

“Cool, we’ll try to spot you in the crowd,” Yeonjun jokes, handing you your bag filled with jewelry as he not-so-subtly scans your outfit, “from the looks of it, it won’t be too hard.”

Man, was it just you or was it hot in this store? You don’t think you could handle all this attention at once, the sight of Beomgyu giving you a once over making you weak in the knees as you feebly thanked them, promptly scurrying out of the store as you tried to ignore the way you didn’t talk to him— baby steps, you reassure yourself. 

You’re practically stumbling into Claire’s as if it were a safe space; and if Chaeryeong was there, then it was. You briefly scan the store before you spot her red hair, running up to her excitedly as you shove the crumpled banner in her face. 

“Seriously?” Is all she can muster to say, staring at the flyer blankly before she looks back at you, quirking a brow as if to challenge your decisions, “I told you to go fuck him, not support his fleeting dreams.” 

“I know…” you pout, deflating at her disapproving look, “but I don’t think it would be that easy! He seems like a cold guy, like you have to get to know him before he lowers his guard…” 

“Are you listening to yourself?” She says, checking herself in the mirror as she begins to restock the phone cases, “I worry about you sometimes.” 

“Come on, hear me out!” You whine, ignoring the dirty looks the moms in the store give you, clearly displeased with your revealing outfit, (cons to living in such a conservative town, you suppose) “you can’t deny that he’s cute.” 

“Yeah, but the most I’d do is hookup like, once,” she says, glancing around the store to make sure no customers were around to hear her, “you’re trying to play the long game.” 

“Am not!” You say, ignoring the way your body flushes hotly at the accusation— okay, you’re pretty down bad for him; so what?

“But uhm, Chae…” you don’t bother to finish your sentence, trailing off softly as you find yourself too nervous to ask. But with one glance back at you, she knows exactly what you’re trying to say— she sighs. 

“You want me to go with you, don't you?” 

Sending her your most convincing smile, you bat your lashes in hopes to convince her, clinging onto her as you let out a small “pleeeease?” She pauses, narrowing her eyes at your behavior before she scoffs, finally giving in as she goes back to restocking items. 

“You’re insufferable.” 

⤬⤬⤬

To say that you’re surprised by the attendance would be an understatement. 

The place is packed— it was hard enough to get tickets to the venue, and your efforts to buy tickets early were not in vain, despite Chaeryeong's teasing. You’re pulling her along eagerly, fingers laced tightly with hers as you squeeze your way towards the front of the stage; you’re able to sneak through a good amount of people, but aren’t able to get that close to the stage, to your disappointment. There’s no place to sit, much to Chaeryeong’s annoyance, but you’d like to blame her onslaught of complaints on the heels that she chose to wear instead.

“What kind of band even are they,” Chaeryeong mutters, scanning the crowd as she takes in the way the two of you accidentally stand out— the mass of black clashing with your sparkling outfits, “did you even listen to their music beforehand?” 

“To like, one song, yeah,” you say, unashamed as you ignore the look a person casts at you, clearly listening in to your conversations, “I dunno, I think they’re just a rock band. I think you’ll like them.”

“Probably not, this isn’t really my taste,” she says, throwing a dirty look to the person that pushes roughly past her to try to get closer to the stage, “you’re just lucky I love you.” 

But before you can ridicule Chaeryeong for her statement, you finally see the lights dimming down, left in the dark as the announcer finally calls the band onto the stage— Tomorrow by Together. 

The crowd goes wild by the announcement, jumping excitedly and jostling you and your friend around as they all try to record the members and get a good angle. You had no idea they were this popular— hell, if you were them, you’d quit everything to pursue music by now. The crowd is chanting their names eagerly, and you’re left in awe as they all take their positions behind each instrument. 

There are two guitarists— you’re able to recognize Yeonjun as one of them. You looked up the rest of the members on your way here, and by process of elimination, the other man who was currently picking up his guitar would be Hueningkai. 

The cute guy with dimples sends a heart to the crowd before going to where his keyboard is placed; that’s Soobin, if you remember right. Leaving you with Taehyun, who doesn’t bother to wave to the crowd as he picks up his drumsticks eagerly, shifting comfortably on the seat as he waits patiently for the show to start. 

And lastly, Beomgyu enters the stage and beelines to the bass— you’re surprised to find that he’s dyed his hair, the highlights getting hit by the stage lights brilliantly as he adjusts his earpiece, waiting patiently for the leader— Soobin, you think it is— to start the performance. 

You can barely hear what they’re saying over the excited cheers around you, and you can feel Chaeryeong gripping onto your arm in fear that you’ll be lost in the crowd. Glancing behind her, you send her an excited smile, unable to contain your laugh as you take in her nervous expression. 

“You’re insane!” 

“What?” You yell back, leaning in as the crowd begins to cheer louder— probably in response to something they said. You glance back at the stage in curiosity, but turn back to check on your friend as she leans back into your ear, repeating the words as she rolls her eyes at your amused reaction. 

“Do you want to leave then?” 

“And leave you here alone? No way—!” Her words are cut off by the clicks of drumsticks, and the crowd is quick to push each other around as the music begins to fill the venue, successfully taking your attention off your friend as your head snaps back to the stage. 

You can still feel the grip of Chaeryeong’s acrylics as you keep your fingers laced tightly with hers, but you quickly find yourself moving with the crowd as you watch the five on stage perform— and to your surprise, you find yourself enjoying the music a lot more than you anticipated. 

It’s just as you expected— rock, emo, or punk-rock if you remember right. But you can’t take your eyes off the way they all seem to be so immersed in the music, moving around just as much as the crowd before them. You’re surprised to find that each one of the members has a mic, and as you watch Beomgyu, you find yourself eager to hear his voice. 

He’s mesmerizing, a thin sheen of sweat coating him as his bangs stick to his forehead, a hand coming up to quickly adjust his earpiece before he’s back on the bass, fingers moving so swiftly you think you might just be hypnotized. You can feel your heart beating faster as you watch him step closer to his mic, eyes scanning the crowd absentmindedly as he waits for his part; they stop for a moment, and you swear that he spots you in the crowd. 

His brows furrow as he begins to sing, and you swear that you might just feel weak in the knees. His voice is deep and raspy as he sings his part, and you can see Chaeryeong laughing at your reaction in the corner of your eye— man, this venue suddenly seemed a lot more stuffy than it was three seconds ago. 

And despite Chaeryeong’s conditions that you wouldn’t stay for the whole show, you do just that— your feet ache, and your makeup has been sweated off, but you don’t regret a single thing as you stumble out of the venue, your hearing muffled and your throat sore from cheering. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” you smile, glancing at your friend as you take in her distraught state— her hair was frizzy, and her makeup was also sweated off, but unlike you, she didn’t seem too pleased about it.

“For you maybe,” she grumbles, clutching onto you as she grumbles about how sore her feet are under her breath, “At least you had your eye candy to look at.” 

“Yeah, well thanks for coming with me Chae,” you say, hugging her tightly despite her protests, “I’ll get that girl from Auntie Anne's number for you as repayment.”

“No, let me do that myself,” she says, pushing herself off you as she tries to hide her fond smile, “but what I really want right now is a drink. And to rest.” 

“Back to my place?” You say, already knowing her answer as you finally find your car, flopping on the seats with rough sighs as you finally allow your feet to rest. 

“Yes please.” 

Chaeryeong allows you to ramble about your thoughts on the band all the way home. 

⤬⤬⤬

The next time you see Beomgyu is on your break. 

It’s a Tuesday afternoon and the mall is practically empty— considering that school has already started and all the kids are locked up in school. You’re sitting at the corner table of Auntie Anne’s, chewing mindlessly on your pretzel nuggets as you text Chaeryeong and tease her for chickening out on talking to her crush— in the end, she was no better than you. She isn’t working today, which is probably why time is passing so slowly— even your break seems to stretch by slowly. 

It isn’t until you hear the sound of a chair scraping along the tiles that you look up from your phone. 

Oh god, you’re already getting nervous— because Beomgyu’s a table away from you, staring down at his phone as well with his headphones on. You’re trying hard not to stare, so you resort to panicking and text Chaeryeong about your situation, to which she can only threaten you to talk to him.

Chae <3

Swear to god if you don’t talk to him ill do it for u

And it wont be pretty 

What if he doesn’t wanna talk? You text her, anxiously biting at your lip as you watch the message bubble up, her typing as slow as ever as you glance back up at Beomgyu, then back at the clock, calculating just how long you have before you need to leave.

Chae <3

Talk to him about his band duh

Everyone loves talking about themselves

Now shoo

You brightened up at that— of course! Who wouldn’t want to hear about themselves? And with this conversation started, you picked up your cup of pretzels, taking a deep breath before you found the courage to walk up to him. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” You mentally facepalm at how stupid you sound, but you’ll let it slide as Beomgyu looks up at you, taking a second to pause his music before he gives you a blank look, eyebrows raising slightly as he finally seems tor recognizes you.

“Sure, I guess,” is all he says, and you can’t help but feel embarrassed at his response; or rather, his lack of interest. He gives you a curious look, and you know that he’s waiting for you to explain why the hell you decided to interrupt him during his break— you’re nervous, fidgeting in your seat as you smile sweetly at him. (God, he was intimidating up close.)

“I went to your uh, concert last weekend,” you hold back a smile as you watch the way he perks up at that, a lot more interested in what you have to say as he leans forward.

“Really? Didn’t think you’d be into that type of stuff,” he says, scanning your outfit teasingly, looking at your hot pink hello kitty zip up, to the cute jeans that had hearts on the back pockets; but mostly, your face said it all— that you weren’t one to listen to that kind of music at all. 

“Well you’d be surprised,” you say, pouting slightly at his words. You’re fidgeting with your necklace, and you pretend to remain oblivious to the way Beomgyu watches your every movement, eyes stuck to the way the cute pendant falls perfectly on your chest when you let it go, “you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, or whatever they say.” 

Beomgyu lets out a laugh at that, and you can’t hide the way that it catches you off guard. It seems genuine, and his eyes are crinkling cutely as he smiles, shaking his head in amusement at your words. It’s almost contagious, and you can’t help the way you crack a small smile as well. 

“You got me there,”  he says, glancing back at the clock, prompting you to do so as well— you shudder, seeing that you have five minutes left. “Well what’d you think?” 

Narrowing your eyes, you take a second before you respond; you can tell he’s waiting for you to gush over him. 

“It was okay, I guess,” you say, shrugging your shoulders as you pop one of your pretzels in your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick away the sugar left on your lips, and your stomach swirls in excitement as Beomgyu follows your movements, “Yeonjun’s voice was really nice.”  

“Really?” Beomgyu taunts you, a knowing smirk growing on his face as he realizes what you’re doing. 

“Anything else?”

“Hmmm… oh! The other guitarist was super cute,” you shamelessly say, popping another pretzel in your mouth as you hum in appreciation of its taste, “come to think of it, so was the drummer— oh, so was the guy on the keys.” 

“Interesting,” He says mockingly, leaning in as he tilts his head questioningly, tongue prodding at his lip rings as he asks, “what’d you think of the bassist?” 

“Hmm? The bassist?” You question, huffing in disappointment as you realized you’ve finished all your pretzels. Rubbing your fingertips to rid the sugary dust, you can’t help yourself as you pop a finger into your mouth, licking off the residue as you finally stand, surprised to find that you need to clock back on. Beomgyu watches you, unable to take his eyes off the way your tongue swirls across your thumb, your necklace hanging teasingly as you reach to zip your jacket back up. Eyes snapping back to yours, you send him a small smile, expression earnest as you say, 

“Oh, I wouldn't know— I’m not into that type of stuff.” 

⤬⤬⤬

You’re eager to tell Chaeryeong about your interaction the first chance you get. 

“Ouuu you’re such a tease! You’ve definitely got him interested now,” she squeals, taking your hands in hers as she jumps in excitement. You’re about to go on your break, heart beating with excitement at the thought of getting to see Beomgyu again— your shifts are usually aligned, so who’s to say your breaks couldn’t be as well?

“You think I might see him today?” You voice your thoughts out loud, glancing back at the Spencer’s across from you— it’s dim, and you can barely make out anything in there, but you swore you saw the familiar head of long shaggy hair pass by the entrance.

“You just might,” your friend says, grinning at you as she encourages you to take your break— you linger at the entrance in hopes that you might spot Beomgyu taking his break as well. Making your way back to Auntie Anne’s (it was the only place where you could get your food quick enough) you tried to keep your hopes down, not wanting to look like a lost puppy patiently waiting for its owner. 

By the time you had ten minutes left to your break, you had lost hope, your eyes glued to your phone and music blasting in your ears as you texted your friends. Laughing at one of their responses to your crush, you rolled your eyes, reaching to grab another pretzel nugget— only to grab at the air stupidly. 

You frown as you look up from your phone, only to be met with the sight of Beomgyu sitting comfortably across from you, your cup of pretzels in his hands— how long had he been sitting there?

“How long have you been there?” You’re quick to echo your own mind, reaching out to take back your pretzels from the boy. He shrugs, glancing at the clock, only to leave you without a proper answer. 

“Not that long,” is all he gives you, enjoying the way you genuinely want to know. You’re silent, and you watch as he becomes slightly nervous, eyes avoiding yours as he reaches for his pocket— he wants to tell you something. 

“I actually wanted to uhm— give you these,” slowly, he slides something across the table, and it takes you a second to realize what it is, “They’re tickets to our next show. You really seemed to enjoy the other one, so I wanted to invite you to this one— with better seats, too.”

Your mouth is hanging at the two VIP tickets, unable to say anything before his words click in your mind. 

“Wait— you saw me? At the last show?” You watch as he flushes at your words, but honestly, you’re the one that should be embarrassed— you were kinda hoping he hadn’t noticed your excited self back at his concert. 

“Well, it was hard to not notice you,” his excuse is pointless as he looks back up at you, at the cute flustered expression you sport—it somehow manages to bring about a small wave of confidence as he adds, “it was cute to see you enjoy yourself.” 

“Oh,” you know you sound lame, but you can’t help it— not with the way his narrowed eyes stare teasingly at you, head cocked to the side as he waits for you to say something— but you don’t, staring down at your pretzels shyly as you listen to him chuckle; oh, where did your confidence from last time go?

“Wait, I have to ask,” you say, the question you thought of a few days ago popping back into your mind, “how come you work here if your band is so popular? You seem to be doing well.”

“Ah, that,” Beomgyu seems to become shy at your question, rubbing at his nape nervously as his eyes flit down onto the table, “well, we aren’t signed under a label yet… so it’s not really a stable income; this job is more of a side hustle just in case.” 

“Ah, I see,” you say, wondering just how much he makes from playing in venues— considering that he has to be working here, (which you aren’t complaining about, honestly) it must not be enough. 

“Well, I can’t wait for this next show,” you beam at him, taking the two tickets as you glance at the time, sad to see that your thirty minutes are up. “Come pay me a visit sometime, I work right across from you, you know.” 

You’re sure it’s unlikely, but as you walk back to your workplace, the stand of cute Squishmallows greeting you as you go to clock back in, you’re unable to contain your bright grin of excitement as you flash Chaeryeong the two VIP tickets. (much to her dismay.)

⤬⤬⤬

Beomgyu is making his way to your store. 

“The emo boy is coming over,” Chaeryeong tells you, not giving you much of a warning before she dips to the back— to give you a moment, she tells you shamelessly— leaving you alone and vulnerable to the sight of the cute boy appearing out of nowhere. 

It had been almost a week since you had asked him to visit you— ever since then, the two of you would try to time your breaks together, spending the time talking about music and growing closer; you even got to exchange numbers. 

But you hadn’t been expecting him to take your last comment seriously, especially not before the day you would be seeing him perform. But here he is, walking up to your store with other shopping bags in his hands, dressed in his usual dark attire. His eyes met yours, and you swore you saw a small amused twitch in his lips. 

“Didn’t think you’d actually step a foot in here,” you say, holding back a smile at the way he clashes against the cute store— is this what you looked like in his environment? The thought was enough to give away your amusement, despite the cold front you tried to display.

“Never judge a book by its cover,” he says, echoing your words as he watches you grin shamelessly, his eyes latching onto a piece of jewelry that caught his eye. “Nice smiley, did you get it done here?”

Scoffing, you can’t stop the laugh that escapes at his ridiculous words. 

“As if, I wouldn’t trust this place to do a regular ear-piercing,” you say, looking back at your piercing station in dismay. 

Beomgyu says nothing, even when you throw him a questioned look. 

“How much for the piercings?” 

“What— You can’t be serious,” you say, gawking at him in disbelief as you look at his ears, “you have multiple piercings! You should know better than to get it done here!” 

Beomgyu shrugs, looking at himself in the mirror as he looks at the said piercings— brushing his hair back, he reaches up to rub at the only empty spot on his lobes.

“Yeah, but I don’t have my upper lobes done yet.” 

“Beomgyu,” you whine, unaware of the way his name rolls off your tongue so nicely. He shivers, eyes darkening as he looks back up at you, much more determined to do it now that you’re acting like this. “I don’t want your ears to get fucked up on my behalf—your fans would hate me…” 

“Well, the customer is always right,” he grins, knowing just how much the two of you hated that phrase, “and the customer wants this pretty worker to do his upper lobes— with these hello kitty earrings as well.” 

Oh, he’s good, you hate how easily you’re going to give in to him; you don’t think you can put up much of a fight anymore, at least not with the way he’s looking at you and complimenting you. 

“Go sit in the chair,” you sigh, seemingly defeated as you follow him to the piercing station. In the corner of your eye, you watch Chaeryeong slowly peek through the door, only to see the scene before her and quickly hide back inside. 

“Just know that I’m not the one that usually does piercings,” you add, snickering at the way Beomgyu frowns at your confession. “Yeah, I tried to warn you, but you didn’t listen to me.”

“It’s okay, I’ll be happy to give you more experience,” he says, and you’re thankful that you’re able to hide behind him because holy fuck, you’re probably a mess right now. Hesitantly, you reach out to his hair— it’s in the way, you think to yourself, unsure if he’ll be bothered if you touch it.

“You can move my hair if you need to,” he says, as though he were able to read your every thought. You jump at his sudden comment, clearing your throat as you nod, before realizing that you’re standing behind him, and that he probably can’t see you right now. So you simply mutter an “okay”, hoping that he can’t see how shaky your hands are as you reach out to move his hair. 

Softly, you reach out to his shoulder, brushing back his hair as you inspect his pierced ears— you ignore the way your fingertips accidentally brush against his skin, and you especially try to ignore the way he shudders at your actions. You take your time to mark where you’ll put each piercing, and after double-checking with Beomgyu, you finally get ready to pierce his ears. 

Reluctantly, you put on gloves, slowly going through all the sanitation steps as you walk Beomgyu through it and tell him how to care for his piercing— you’re sure he doesn’t need to hear this, honestly— yet it’s still your job to say it.

“Take a deep breath in,” it’s accidental, but you’re using your customer service on him, and you’re sure he notices; that is, if the small quirk of his lips is any giveaway. Slowly, you adjust the piercing gun, taking a deep breath in yourself in hopes that you won’t fuck up; it’s irrational, but you can’t help but be afraid. But you pull through, and as your fingers squeeze together, you watch the needle go through his ear. 

“There’s one,” you say reassuringly, pulling away to check your work. All he manages is a small wince, which is a nice contrast to the usual wailing and annoyed moms that you get on the daily. Turning to the other side, you find yourself no longer nervous, pulling back his hair without a second thought as you start sanitizing the new side as well. You barely hesitate before you’re passing the needle through his ear, smiling at the way he only flinches at the feeling. 

“Good job!” You say automatically, unable to stop yourself as the customer service mode had taken over you completely. But it doesn’t seem to phase Beomgyu, because he doesn’t comment on it even as you take him to the register to pay.

“I look pretty, don’t I?” He asks, tilting his head in the mirror to look at his new hello kitty piercings. It’s a stark difference to the rest of his jewelry, but you can’t help but agree wholeheartedly with him.

“They’re super cute, I���m kinda jealous,” you say, much to Beomgyu’s surprise. 

“Well, maybe your friend could pierce them,” he says, glancing behind you, and at the employee area, “if she finally decides to come out.”

Beomgyu is very annoying— it’s a realization that dawns on you as he sports a smug look, clearly pleased with the way he manages to fluster you with just a few words. But even as he bids you goodbye, reminding you to come to his show tomorrow, you can’t deny the way your heart saddens to watch him go so soon. 

Oh, you’re down bad. 

⤬⤬⤬

The new venue is much nicer than the last one— it catches you off guard by how nice it is. (It really makes you wonder how much money they each contribute to afford such places)

Chaeryeong is trailing behind you reluctantly, her cute heels from last time swapped out for much more comfortable sneakers. Though she complained to you about going to such a rough event again, you could tell that she was much more pleased when the sight of assigned seats greeted her— not that it wasn’t stated on the ticket, you had muttered to her sarcastically.

You could tell that you were getting strange looks from others— after all, you decided not to conform to their style. It wasn’t really you, so why do it? So instead of trying something new, you decided to stick to your cute pink outfits, dressed in a denim skirt that honestly, wasn’t covering much, the same hello kitty jacket you wore when you first talked to Beomgyu being sported once more as you layer it over a thin tank top, your cute Demonia camel-311’s adding an extra bit of height as you make it all the way down to the VIP section— front and center. 

You’re practically buzzing in your seat from excitement as you wait for the concert to begin, eagerly chatting with Chaeryeong who could only do so much to calm you down. After what seems like an eternity of waiting, the audience lights finally dim, and you’re left in anticipation for the band to come out. 

It still feels like you’re listening to them for the first time again as you watch them perform, your new closeness to the stage allowing them all to spot you easily— they all end up sending Beomgyu knowing looks at some point, unbeknownst to you. 

And as you finally make eye contact with Beomgyu, you grin at him excitedly, waving at him as he nods in recognition, a smile breaking across his face as he sees you. And though you finally look away from him, much more distracted by Soobin as he begins to sing, he can’t help but watch you, mesmerized as you seem to be enjoying yourself wholly. (Though he couldn’t say the same for your friend, who mostly seemed to be there for emotional support as she helped steady you.) 

You just seemed so happy. And it made Beomgyu’s heart jump excitedly at the thought of it being because of his band. You were even singing along, and Beomgyu couldn’t help but watch you fondly, shamelessly staring at you even when it was his turn to sing and your gaze turned back to him. He met your eyes eagerly, and you almost felt as though the rest of the crowd disappeared as he sang, raspy voice soothing to your ears as you tried to push away the incessant fluttering of your heart. 

You stared at him even when it was no longer his part, watching in awe as he played the bass like it was second nature. Meeting his eyes once more, you couldn’t help the way your eyes flit to his ears, the flash of the jewelry bringing your attention to the cute hello kitty studs he wore; you pointed at your ears eagerly, and he seems to realize what you’re referring to as he sweeps his hair back, allowing you to take in the piercings properly; they’re healing surprisingly well.

The concert seems to pass by much quicker than you’d like— and you’re left with nothing but the muffled feeling in your ears and the dwindling adrenaline as you reluctantly make your way back to the entrance. You almost make it out, but you’re stopped last minute as a security guard approaches the two of you, asking you for to confirm your identities to him. 

“Beomgyu would like to see you,” he says, pointing at you as he reads your ID. You’re surprised, blinking owlishly as you take in his words, unsure if he’s messing with you as you say, 

“… Me?”

“Yes, if you could please follow me,” the security guard waits for you to come after him, but he seems to notice the way you hesitate and turn back to your friend with uncertainty. “She can wait in the VIP lobby if she’d like, but I was told to bring you specifically backstage.” 

It seems like something clicks for Chaeryeong as she lets out a small “ahhh,” in understanding, pushing you towards the security guard as you turn to her with wide eyes, surprised at her actions. 

“Go ahead! The VIP lounge has drinks,” she encourages you, rolling her eyes with every protest and “are you sure?” that leaves your mouth. “Yes I’m sure! Now go!” 

Reluctantly, you leave your friend behind in the VIP lounge, watching her get comfortable at the bar as she asks the bartender for a drink. The backstage area is a lot quieter than you’d thought it would be— it’s practically silent the moment you enter the area, the boys all probably tired and ready to go home after such a performance. But you’re in awe nonetheless, looking from door to door as the security guard finally guides you to the last one— Beomgyu’s dressing room, it seems. 

Knocking on it tentatively, you anxiously wait for Beomgyu to open up as the guard stands behind you; you really hope he wasn't messing with you.

“Hmm? Who is it?” You can hear the grogginess in Beomgyu’s voice as the door barely opens, his head slowly peeking out before it's met with the sight of your sheepish smile. 

“Ah, you can come in,” he gestures to you, suddenly much more awake as he glances back to the security guard, “you’re good to go, thank you.”

You’re restless as the door is shut behind him, and you’re left alone in the small dressing room as you patiently wait for Beomgyu to tell you why he brought you here. 

“___,” you look at him, surprised to find your name slipping from his lips so easily. He’s smiling, suddenly much more energized as he tells you, “we just signed with a record label. We’re set.”

You’re elated, his joy contagious as you take a second to process his words— he laughs, and you can’t help but share his laugh as you run to him, enveloping him into a tight hug that he gladly accepts, the smoky scent of his cologne lingering despite his change of clothes. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but it just feels right as you mutter a “congratulations” into the fabric of his shirt, nuzzling into his neck with a smile stuck on your face.

Pulling away from him, you’re reluctant to leave this small space that the two of you created; you can tell he feels the same, hands lingering at your forearms as he keeps you close, eyes fond as he watches the way your eyes sparkle under the lights of the room. 

“Does this mean you’re quitting your job at the mall?” You joke, cracking a smile that Beomgyu sees past— you don’t think you’re ready to watch him leave just yet. 

“Yes,” he says, honest words leaving him as he tugs you in closer, unable to look away from your glossy lips as he finds himself leaning in closer, his voice much quieter as he says, “but I’ll still visit now and then.” 

It’s not the perfectly romantic and corny line you were expecting, but it’s enough to prompt you to crash your lips with his, the weeks of tension and feelings that had built up between the two of you finally crashing down as you allow yourself to indulge in the feeling of him. He’s quick to kiss you back, the feeling rough and new as his snake bite piercings press against your flesh, a small sigh escaping you as you feel him nip at your lips. 

His arms have encased your waist and pulled you in tight, your body pressed flush against his and your hands splayed across his chest as he practically forces you to lean against him, his fingertips itching to explore your body further.

“Fuck, I couldn’t stand seeing you out there in your cute little skirt,” he groans, slotting a thigh between yours as he runs his fingers along the hem of your skirt, “made me scared someone else would try to make a move on you.”

“No, wore this just for you,” you confess, breathless and whiny as you grind on his thigh, the thin fabric of your panties doing nothing to hide just how aroused you were. He laughs at that, the sound airy and mocking as he guides your hips on his thigh, pushing you down on it more as he takes in the sounds that tumble messily from your lips. 

Placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, you yelp at the way he angles your hips, clenching his thigh and bouncing it under you as your sensitive clit rubs and bumps against him messily. You’re practically delirious as you reach a hand down to move your panties aside, the stimulation not enough for you as you finally allow your bare cunt to come in contact with him.

“I can’t believe this,” he groans, watching the way a wet spot slowly begins to form over the place you continue to grind against, “my stupid girl, all fucked up over my thigh? Poor baby won’t be able to take my cock, then.” 

“No, I can take it,” you protest, your mind reeling from the pleasure that Beomgyu gives you— you can feel your stomach tightening with every clench of his thigh, the muscle pressing against you nicely, “Please, I can take it, please…” 

“You really think you can?” He asks, leaning to trail kisses down the column of your neck, “why don’t you come on my thigh, then we’ll see if you really can.” 

You’re nodding desperately for his approval, shirt clenched tightly in your fists as you work yourself up to your high, the feeling of his muscles pressing against you bringing you closer much quicker. With a particularly harsh bounce of his thigh, your mouth falls open, Beomgyu’s grip on your hips ruthless as he forces you down on him, guiding you through it as slowly come down from the blissful feeling. 

“Good girl, following my orders like that,” he mumbles, enjoying the way your shaking hands grip onto him helplessly. Gently, he guides you to the couch, allowing you to fall on it as he slowly begins to undress you, your grabby hands pulling at his shirt until he’s throwing it over his head. 

“Oh god—" he holds back a groan as he takes off your bra, suddenly finding it much harder to contain himself at the cute sight, his hands immediately finding their place on your breasts as he gulps. 

“Baby, I had no idea you pierced these,” he says, pretty fingers playing with the piercings on your nipples as you whine at the stimulation. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? They’re so pretty…” 

Beomgyu is mesmerized as you lay before him, a needy and panting mess as you let him play with your tits crudely, allowing him to pinch and roll the pierced nipples until they’re hardened. Slowly, he leans down to wrap his mouth around one of them, tongue darting out to lick at them as you gasp, back arching as you realize—

“Fuck, is your tongue pierced?” You gasp, watching the way Beomgyu sits up with a mischievous grin on his face. 

“Looks like we’re all full of surprises here,” he says, trailing kisses down your body before he finally stops at your navel, glancing back up as he says, “I’ve always heard it feels better when you get eaten out by someone with a piercing— wanna test it out?”

You’re ready to say every curse word in existence as Beomgyu dives down without a second thought, warm mouth wrapping around you and the feeling of his tongue— paired by his piercing— sends you into an overstimulated mess, still having yet to recover as you thread your hands into his hair, weakly attempting to pull him away from you before he’s pinning your hips down, his tongue insistent as he flicks it across your clit ruthlessly. 

“Beomgyu…” you whine out, body too sensitive to stay still, yet still begging for more as you thread your fingers tighter into his scalp, tugging harshly— the sting brings out a crude groan from him.

Slowly, you feel his fingers prodding at your entrance, an airy chuckle leaving him as he takes in the way you’re dripping wet for him. Pulling away, he watches as two of his fingers slide in easily, opening up inside you as he slowly begins to stretch them out inside you, biting at his lip at the way you clench around him. 

Leaning back down, he lays his tongue flat on your clit, enjoying the way you shake under him as he sets a brutally slow pace for you. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He taunts, unable to stop himself as his free hand reaches up to play with your nipples, still amazed at the cute piercings that had been hiding from him all along. You’re nodding along, though he’s not entirely sure you processed what he just asked from the way you’re so lost in the pleasure— which Beomgyu is more than happy to deliver more of. His tongue flicking across your clit paired with the quickened pace of his fingers is what sets you off, the stimulation too much for you the moment Beomgyu begins to tug at your nipple piercings teasingly. 

“Beomgyu please,” you plead, using your fingers that were threaded in his hair to pull him up, your lips briefly meeting his as you take in the taste of yourself— his tongue darts into your mouth as you allow him to coat your tongue with your own release, the teasing bites that he leaves you with as he pulls away making you whine stupidly. 

“So fucking pretty,” he mutters under his breath, staring down at your fucked out form as he finally releases himself from his restraints, his cock painfully hard and leaking as he kneels over you, “Wanna make you all mine. Keep you to myself.”

His words are an alluring promise as he slowly pushes into you, leaving kisses and bites all along your collarbones as you do the same to him. You sigh as he bottoms out, hips meeting yours as he takes your hand to place it on your abdomen.

“Do you feel that?” He asks, pressing his hand on top of yours as he slowly pulls out, a broken moan leaving you as you realize that fuck, you can. With every slow thrust you can feel every vein, his hand that remains on top of yours adding onto the pleasure as you feel him through your stomach as well.

“God, you make it so hard for me to hold myself back,” he groans, closing his eyes as you clench tightly around him, the warm feeling of your walls wrapping around him pushes him to his limits, the sounds that leave your lips only adding on to the mess.

“Don’t,” you breathe out, eyes dazed as they meet Beomgyu’s, “Don’t hold back— please.”

With one final look in your eyes, Beomgyu shakes his head, leaning down to plant a kiss to your lips before he’s taking your leg, bringing it up to press against your chest as it allows him to fuck you in a deeper angle. His pace is ruthless as he gives in to your request, the combination of his length and the stretch of his cock leaving your mind empty in a matter of seconds. 

“Fuck, be quiet baby,” he grits out, slapping a hand over your mouth in panic as you let out a particularly loud moan, the reminder of his other bandmates being nearby bringing about a rush of adrenaline— he didn’t want anyone else to hear the sounds you made. 

Your muffled whimpers and whines still managed to leak through Beomgyu’s hand, your body getting pressed down into the couch with the force that Beomgyu fucks you with. Your hands scrambled to find someplace to steady yourself on, quickly finding purchase on Beomgyu’s shoulders, your nails raking down his back accidentally as his cock pressed against a sensitive spot— you were only egged on by the surprised moan he let out by that. 

“God, you feel so…” he hisses as your nails dig into his skin, the stinging feeling making him pry your hands away from him as he pins them down, your fingers lacing with his immediately as he uses this to fuck into you harder. His lips crash against yours the moment you begin to get too loud again, and you accept the distraction gratefully as you relish in the feeling of his piercings against your skin. 

This new angle allowed for his hips to crash against your clit, the rough hits making you closer to your end as you clenched tightly around him, the feeling enough of a warning for Beomgyu as he continued to fuck you ruthlessly. Your nails dig into his hands as he begins to hit your sensitive spot repeatedly, your high crashing down on you unexpectedly as you clamp down on Beomgyu’s cock. 

He helps you ride through it, slowing his pace into nothing but a grind as he presses his hips against yours, placing relentless kisses on your lips as soft praise leaves him, the words not quite reaching you as you come down from your high. 

“Gyu,” you whimper, and Beomgyu thinks he might just come then and there, “keep going.” 

“More?” He asks, incredulous at your request, “fuck, you still want more?”

Nodding, you squeeze his hands as you innocently say, “want you to finish inside me.” 

God, you have no idea what you do to him. Your words hit him like a freight train as he feels his cock twitch inside you, shaking his head in disbelief at your request— how could you say something like that so sweetly? It’s like you were doing it on purpose. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up until you can only think of me,” he says, his words drawing out a whimper from you as he begins to move once more, no longer hesitant as he watches the way your face contorts from the pleasure and over stimulation. Your words are all he can think of as he watches you try your best to be quiet, biting at your lips and failing as he presses his cock deep inside you, every drag and thrust he delivers making your eyes roll back in bliss. 

You might even be drooling at this point— but you don’t really care, at least not with the way Beomgyu is fucking you so nicely. You can feel his pace stutter as he lets out soft moans, hands untangling from yours as he sits up, placing his hands on your hips and angling them up as he uses you to his liking, the new angle making you slap your hands over your mouth— you’re sure something humiliating would have left your mouth if you hadn’t done so. 

His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips as his brows furrow, concentrated on chasing pleasure as his eyes flit back to you— to your watery eyes, your hands clasped over your mouth panic despite the sounds that leak through, and your breasts that bounce back and forth with each thrust. 

He can tell that a new orgasm is beginning to build in you, and he’s determined to make the coil snap as he reaches a hand down to rub at your clit, leaning over to whisper nothing but the filthiest things imaginable, a grin overtaking his face as he feels the way you’re quick to catch up to him, your trembling figure telling him all he needs to know.

“Come on darling, don’t you want me to fill you up? You’d look so pretty with my cum dripping between your thighs, I’ll make sure everyone will know you’re mine. Go ahead, come on my cock.” He’s rambling at this point, but it’s enough to set you off as you cum on him once more, the pathetic whine of his name enough to set him off as he follows close behind you, his thrusts sloppy and rough before he stills, filling you to the brim as your hands find themselves running down his back once more, the sting of pain mixing into his pleasure as his head drops onto your neck, the heavy feeling of his breaths against your neck the only thing that grounds you from your high. 

He’s careful as he maneuvers the two of you to lay down, having yet to pull out of you as the slow trickle of his cum escaping from you makes you shiver. Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he pulls you in for another slow kiss, unable to stop the smile that spreads across his lips, the two of you turning into a giddy mess in each other’s arms.

“I was waiting for the day I could kiss you like this,” he mumbles against your lips, the confession making you push against his chest in embarrassment, allowing him to pull you back in with a laugh. The two of you stay like that for a moment longer, and you actually think you could fall asleep like this—

“Oh my god, Chaeryeong!”

At the call of your friend’s name, Beomgyu groans, throwing an arm over his eyes as he asks, “she’s still here?”

“Yes!” You can tell that Beomgyu doesn’t understand why you’re panicking, but you feel absolutely terrible that you made her wait outside in the lobby while you— you…

“Gyu, I gotta go,” you whine, trying to pry yourself from his grip as you look around his dressing room, spotting a rag and a spray bottle filled with water that you could use to clean yourself up. “I have the day off tomorrow, just come over then.” 

“Can I? You promise?” Is all he says, unable to let you go as you try to rush to clean up. Turning back to him, you adjust your shirt, laughing at the way he seems to be eager for your response. 

“Promise,” you say, leaning down to give him a final goodbye kiss; it’s enticing when he tries to lure you in with more, but you know better as you collect your things, bidding him a final goodbye as you exit his room, allowing yourself to be escorted by security guards as you do the walk of shame. (Shame was actually not enough to describe what you felt— what you felt was much deeper, the realization that everyone probably heard you leaving you unable to look up from the floor.)

Yet even as you’re reuniting with Chaeryeong with a sheepish smile, you can’t help but feel the way your heart flutters at the feeling of your phone being flooded with messages.

Gyu:

Send me ur address pls

Would it be weird if I just come over rn

Say no so I can come over

You shook your head as you read through the messages, not noticing the way Chaeryeong peeked over teasingly.

“See, I told you— you were playing the long game.”

Yet this time, you couldn’t really deny her— because maybe you really were all along.  

⤬⤬⤬

[clovrecs]

Just for Tonight? 

Song suggestion: 10-20-40, Rina Sawayama

Summary:

Choi Yeonjun needs a distraction— and so do you. And while he didn’t plan on it, he’s sure that the feeling of you is greater than any drug he’s experienced; he’ll be sure to keep you in his sight. 

Yeonjun x fem!reader

Genre: pwp, strangers to lovers, bad boy!yj, smut, a tiny sprinkle of angst 

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: Jay slander I’m sorry I don’t mean it, Yeonjun is lowkey mean, dom!yj, sub!mc, use of alcohol, use of marijuana, fingering (?), public sex, degradation, pet names, dry humping, slapping, unprotected sex, dacryphilia (lemme know if I should add anything!)

Notes: for some reason this was about to become another longfic— then I remembered, I don’t have time for that. So here’s a short self indulgent snippet instead, based on the song 10-20-40 by Rina Sawayama! Feedback and comments are always appreciated, enjoy <3

Choi Yeonjun could only be found in the darkest corners of parties.

Not on campus, and certainly not in classes— when he did attend, it was simply to make sure that his degree wouldn’t be slipping through his hands. 

He was apathetic, the red solo cup the only thing that could ground him as he took another sip of his drink. His mind was fuzzy, watching the rest of the crowd move on by, not bothering to spare him a glance as they moved to a fun and brighter spot. The alcohol in his system was the only thing that kept him from leaving, the table filled with every drink imaginable tempting him to stay longer— perks of going to a party at Jay’s place, he remembers— afterall, the only thing that brought people to like the guy was his money. 

The party was like any other, the strong bass sending vibrations to his drink as he watched the condensed group of bodies in the living room, bumping and grinding to the music as they let themselves go. The distant smell of weed hit his nose, and it wasn’t long before he caught sight of the small group that lay back on the couches, passing the blunt back and forth as they slouched down, muttering incoherent thoughts to each other over the loud music. 

If Yeonjun didn’t have the reputation he did, then he wouldn’t have been able to make his way to the group, marching right up as he shared a solemn nod with them. It wasn’t long before the blunt was passed in his direction, and he allowed himself to stay for a while as the addicting feeling of the smoke coursing through him and sinking into his bones let him relax for the first time since arriving to this miserable party. 

But, like always, he found himself tiring out of being around the same people, beginning to find their rough and rude mannerisms annoying as he walked away. The task proved itself to be much harder than he thought, pushing past the bodies of people that continued to get in his way as he stumbled to the kitchen, clumsy hands reaching into a cooler before he found himself grabbing a water bottle— the cooler was practically untouched, he noted grimly. 

The chilled bottle was wet, dripping onto his forearms and making his palm slippery as he made his way to the backyard, eyes heavy as he leaned against the porch. It was quiet, the muffled bass that came from within the house and the flashing lights the only reminder of where he was. 

What a boring party, he thought, thinking back to the amount of faceless people that tried to get into his pants, only to get pissed off when he couldn’t bother to bat an eye in their direction, I should get going. 

Just when he thought that this might go down as one of the worst parties he’s been to— the very last one being one that had been busted by the cops— his eyes caught onto something peculiar; or rather, someone peculiar. 

If he hadn’t been more observant, then his eyes would have easily passed over your hunched figure, dressed up prettily with your head bowed down as you sat on one of the stones that surrounded a large koi pond. He said nothing, watching the way you stared off into the water, index finger reaching out to swirl around the water as you pouted and mumbled off into the quiet air, your drink placed off to the side and left untouched. 

You reached a hand up to adjust your hair, pushing it out of your face as you shifted on the stone, thighs pressed together uncomfortably— that’s when Yeonjun recognized you. 

His eyes widened in recognition as your name ran through his mind; senior valedictorian back in high school, your reputation carrying well into college as you continued to put yourself in important positions. And, you’re part of the student government— president of his class as well, his brain automatically corrected him. He watched you carefully, pushing down a laugh that had been threatening to escape him.

What the hell were you doing here?

Your reason had a name; Park Jongseong. Not only had you been invited by the very owner of the place, but you had also been promised that he would stick by your side— you had been foolish to think that he would keep his promise. 

Park Jongseong has been an ongoing crush for you. It was embarrassing to admit, but the boy had somehow managed to keep your attention since your first year in college. It was a constant push and pull between you two, with every flirty comment and interaction leading to more questions and what ifs. You really thought that this party might have been the time where he redeems himself, but you couldn’t have been more wrong about your assumption; all you were met with was the sight of a girl kissing up on his neck, pressing herself against him crudely before he led her upstairs, barely meeting your eye before he continued to pull the girl along— not an ounce of recognition or guilt had crossed his face.

Which led you to where you were— cursing the boy out under your breath as you tried to not fall apart with shame; had you really thought that you had a chance with the boy? That he would take you seriously?

The sight was pathetic— and Yeonjun allowed himself to stand back and enjoy it. You were usually so put together, and to see the fire in your eye be snubbed out like so, it was intriguing. This version of you, left all by yourself and hunching down as if you were trying to make yourself invisible, was so different from the version Yeonjun always saw. 

The version that was formidable and put together, always greeting everyone— hell, even him, when he bothered to show up— and always helping others when they came to you; that was what he always saw. You were perfect, not a single crack or slip up ever coming from your behalf as you always managed to stay on top of things. You were confident, and shone brightly wherever you went. But that version was nothing like what he saw now. 

What he saw now was the way your eyes were downcast, a pout on your lips as your eyes shone under the moonlight. You’re fighting back tears, he realizes. From what, he doesn’t know— but he does know that he wants to find out.

Since the two miserable hours he’s spent here, (it’s not much, but considering how many parties he’s been to, it’s really saying something.) he finds himself wanting to stay a little longer, lithe steps quiet on the dewy grass as he makes his way towards you, the air around him still misty from the rain that poured hours earlier. You’re cute, he thinks to himself, watching the way you wrap your arms around yourself, eyes too focused on the fish that roam around the pond to notice the figure approaching you. 

“Miss president, how’d you end up in this crowd of people?” 

You’re jumping violently at the sound of his voice, the deep timbre slicing through the silence of the night as he watches you stumble on your words, flustered at the realization that you had been caught in such a place. You’re looking up at him, eyes wide as you try to explain yourself— only to stop mid sentence, realizing that there’s no need for you to do so. 

“Why do you care?” Is all you spit out, cringing at the way the smell of weed follows him, his lidded eyes and cocked brow telling you that he’s not going to take your hints to be left alone; you groan internally when he settles down next to you. 

“Why shouldn’t I? Our precious president could get hurt in such a dangerous environment.” He’s mocking you. You’re grinding your teeth at his words, fighting back a venomous response as you watch the way he continues to insult you, grinning childishly as he seems to realize his impact on you. 

“As if you’d care about anything school related,” you jab, turning away from him as you tune out his breathy chuckles, closing your eyes as you try to calm yourself down. First the situation with Jay, now this? You really couldn’t catch a break. 

“You’re right, I don’t care about anything school related,” Yeonjun confesses, noticing the way you glance back at him curiously. He’s wrapping a hand around your waist, pulling you in as he leans on your shoulder, the smell of alcohol and weed mixing with the scent of his cologne— it’s oddly intoxicating.

“It’s you I care about.” 

“You don’t even know me,” you say, turning back to him as you look into his eyes, your expression mirroring his— you’re curious, eyes lidded as you take in the sudden close proximity. 

“I’d like to,” he muses, his other hand placing itself on your waist as well as he smiles mischievously. You’re even prettier up close, he notices, and he’s deciding that he wouldn’t mind taking his mind off of everything for a while as he adds, “will you let me?”

Little does he know, you’re thinking the same thing. Your mind is coursing rapidly with the memories of Jay, with the bitter reminder that all he’s done is mess with your emotions— he brought you all the way out here, only to leave you high and dry in an environment that leaves you sticking out like a sore thumb. 

He’s cute, you decide, eyes flicking down to his parted lips as you let yourself lean in, his hair brushing against your forehead as you can feel the deep rise and fall of your bodies, syncing together as you take each other in. 

“Just for tonight.” 

There’s nothing else he needs to hear before he’s on you, lips bruising against yours as you try to hold back your surprise, your groan muffled against his lips as he leans into you, caging you in until all you can think of is him. You allow his hands to wander as they trace roughly around your body, landing on your thighs as they squeeze roughly, pulling them apart as he reaches underneath your skirt as he cups your mound, laughing meanly at the gasp you let out.

“Let me fuck you,” He pleads softly against your lips, restless as he grabs your hand before he brings it down to his jeans, letting you feel the bulge that has formed in his pants, stifling a groan as you begin to trace along the shape of his cock, “I’ll make you feel so good.” 

Yeonjun knows that he doesn’t need to do much begging. He can feel it with the way your thighs tremble from his touch, lip quivering at the way he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh, pulling and sucking at it as he pulls away briefly, watching the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks, your eyes closing helplessly with every rough touch of his fingers on your pussy. 

He can feel your underwear dampening with every teasing touch, the fabric sticking to you uncomfortably as he pushes against the barrier, testing you as he teases your entrance. You’re gripping onto his shoulders, allowing him to take over your body as he sucks on your tongue, enjoying the way you drool at his actions, soft squeals escaping you with every rough thrust he delivers with his fingers. 

He’s tracing along your slit, occasionally pulling out to feel you grind desperately against his fingers, only to push back in, the feeling of his fabric covered fingers making you tighten your hold on him. You think your panties might tear with the way he’s roughly pushing into your hole, the fabric messy from your arousal as he pulls out once more, fingers fluttering over your clit before he’s tracing soft circles on it, thoroughly enjoying every sound that escapes your mouth.

It drives you mad, knowing that if he just pushed aside your panties, you would be able to feel his pretty hands on you, long fingers gliding into your walls with ease. But you’re left to drip on your underwear uselessly, allowing him to break you as you beg pathetically for him to do something, to give you more. 

“Please fuck me, please please please,” you beg, breathless and just as restless as he is, entangling a hand into his hair as he sucks and nips at the skin on your neck, “please, wanna feel your cock, want you to fuck me so bad.” 

Yeonjun thinks he might just engrave this moment into his mind, enjoying the sounds of your begging much more than he anticipated. He’s pulling away, and before you can whine about the loss of him on you, you’re yelping at the way he’s grabbed a fistful of your hair, your head pulled back as he guides you to stand up, eyes quickly scanning the backyard before he’s leading you to the wooden gazebo, his hand now locked onto your elbow roughly.

It’s dark, partly because Jay hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights to the backyard— he hadn’t thought that anyone would be interested in going there anyway. But it’s perfect for the two of you, and you’re unable to take your hands off Yeonjun as he’s leaning you against the wooden railing, your back hitting the damp wood as you can feel it dampen your shirt, mouth falling open as Yeonjun is back on your lips. 

“Fuck, who would’ve thought that our perfect little president was such a fucking whore,” Yeonjun grits out, hands grabbing at your waist before he’s flipping you over, grinning at the pretty arch in your back, ass sticking out as you impatiently wait for his next move, “Fucking a guy she’s never met, didn’t think this pussy would be so easy to get.” 

“Don’t care, just want a distraction,” you admit, thighs trembling as he flips up your skirt, laughing cruelly as his eyes darken at the sight of your lacy underwear. His mind is caught on your words, wondering what you might mean by that as he’s pulling down your underwear, watching the way you allow him to guide you to step out of it— you don’t realize it was because he was eager to stuff the material in his pocket. 

“A distraction? From what, pretty girl?” He asks, grinning at the way the nickname sends shivers down your body, the feeling sending ripples of arousal straight down to your core. You’re dripping wet by now, the anticipation of it all leaving you restless and desperate as you grip onto the railing, hips pushing back in hopes of coming in contact with him. 

But all you get in return is a harsh slap on your ass, the sound ringing out in the night, followed by your pathetic yelps. Your knuckles are white as he slaps you two more times, soothing the sting as he rubs on the skin, his breath fanning on your ear as he smiles at the way you jump at the feeling. 

“I asked you a question,” he mutters, hands gripping onto your hips as he roughly pulls you back, your bare pussy coming in contact with the harsh material of his jeans. You gasp, back arching as you feel him rut against you, a wet spot forming on his jeans from your arousal the longer he presses you against him. 

“A distraction from what?” He asks again, and he’s keen to notice the way you don’t want to answer him, whimpers leaving your lips as he slows his pace, all stimulation leaving your body as he waits patiently for your answer. 

“Answer, or I’ll leave you here like the desperate whore you are,” he says, knowing that he wouldn’t dream of walking away from such a sight. But it’s enough to make you break, straightening up as he can see the panic flashing through your eyes. He holds back a laugh as he watches you, taking in the way you contemplate your words before you’re hanging your head, muttering something incoherently under your breath. 

“What was that pretty girl?” He asks, taking your chin in his hand as he’s tilting you to look back at him, eyes shining from the embarrassment of it all, the low light failing to hide your flustered state as you repeat yourself. 

“A distraction from Jay,” you confess, the words barely leaving your lips before you’re watching the way Yeonjun’s jaw is clenching, the mention of the other man seemingly hitting a nerve. 

“Tell me darling,” he says, turning you back around before he’s leaning you over, the sound of a zipper unbuckling making you tingle with anticipation. You’re nervous, unsure of what he might say or think of you as you stare off into the night sky silently.

“Why the hell did you get your hopes up with Jay, of all people,” he seethes, rolling his eyes at the very mention of the man. You’re shaking your head, unsure yourself as you feel him prod at your entrance, head falling down to rest on your hands as you stare down at the wooden floor beneath you. Your eyes are glassy as you feel his hands spread your cheeks apart, his eyes watching the way he’s slowly sinking his cock into you. 

Yeonjun pauses— you’re warm, and so, so tight, your walls fluttering wildly around his cock as he feels the way you try to accommodate his size, your hips circling subconsciously as you quietly whine for more. He thinks this might be the best party he’s gone to.

“Such a stupid slut, poor thing doesn’t know when a man is just playing with her,” he sighs out, aware of the way his words seem to hit you much harder than he intended to. He watches the way you’re trying to hide from him, your head resting on your hands as you refuse to straighten up, a soft sniffle escaping you as you try to ignore the way your shaking shoulders give you away— your squeezing walls only make things worse. 

You’re embarrassed, truly. The one time you decide to get out of your comfort zone, and it’s all thrown back into your face. You wish you could say that you hadn’t seen this coming, but you know that you’re not capable of lying to yourself like that; and it only makes things worse. So it’s involuntary, when tears begin to escape your eyes, but you don’t seem to be aware of the way Yeonjun only seems to throb harder at the sight, scoffing as he buries himself deeper inside of you. 

“It’s okay, darling,” he coos, slowly pulling out as he allows you to feel every vein that brushes against your walls, to feel the way he throbs uncontrollably at the sight before him, “I’ll make you forget all about him.” 

And Yeonjun delivers— fuck, he does more than that as he sets a ruthless pace, gripping onto your hips as he watches the way you surge forward with every thrust, your hand clamped tightly over your mouth as you try to not let the rest of the neighborhood hear your screams of pleasure. You’re letting yourself go as you allow your heart to feel all the emotions you’ve been bottling up all night; you’re crying, but the tears that flow down your face are quickly transformed from tears of pain to tears of pleasure. 

Park Jongseong, Yeonjun thinks to himself, watching the way you crumble underneath his touch, eyebrows scrunching together as he continues to fuck himself into you, aware of the fact that you’re still upset about the incident that brought the two of you to meet, Fuck you. 

Yeonjun can’t help but pity the man for a split second, knowing that he’s wasted such a good opportunity to feel you— to feel the way you clench tightly around him, begging incoherently for him as your words slip through the cracks of your fingers, legs trembling and threatening to buckle from the intense pleasure of it all. 

Which only makes watching you come undone all the more satisfying, feeling the way you clench on him ruthlessly as he continues to drive his cock deeper into you, his thrusts harsh and consistent as he lets you ride out your orgasm. His name is like a prayer on your lips, the sound sweet as honey as he finds himself shivering at the sound— Yeonjun, Yeonjun, Yeonjun…

Yet just as you think it might all be over the moment he pulls out of you, you’re being pulled away, allowing yourself to be manhandled by this man with shaky legs as he repositions you, your back pressing against a pillar of the gazebo before he’s gripping onto your thigh, bringing it up and around his waist as he enters you once more. 

Fuck, you think to yourself, eyes fluttering shut as he begins to fuck you once more, the new position allowing him to rub against the spot that drives you mad, he’s not done yet. 

You’re left helpless against his rough thrusts, hands finding purchase on anything you can find, flying wildly from the railing next to you, to his shoulders, until they finally thread themselves back into his hair as you’re pulling him in for another kiss. His grip on you is fatal, and at this point, he was practically holding you up himself as he continued to fuck you, groaning into your mouth with every clench he felt from your pussy. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck!” He gasps out, feeling the way your sensitive pussy only continues to suck him in. He briefly pulls away from your lips to watch the way he disappears inside you, his panting breaths matching yours as you both watch his slick cock slide in and out of you with ease. You’re practically dripping onto the wooden floor beneath you, the sight only making Yeonjun pound harder into you as he watches the way you can only beg him for more.

It only takes a couple more thrusts before he’s pulling out of you, eyes lidded and glazed as he pumps his cock harshly, mouth falling open as he cums all over you, over the supple skin of your thighs and the pretty skirt that had him hooked from the moment he saw you in it. 

The two of you are silent and panting as you hold onto each other, the muffled bass that came from within the house and the flashing lights the only reminder of where you were. You look back up at him, and he smiles half-heartedly, the two of you laughing quietly at everything that just happened. You can’t help the way you become shy as he stares down at you— because, now what?

“Something tells me this won’t be the last time I’ll be seeing you,” he mumbles, allowing himself to indulge in you as he leans in, lips connecting with yours as he kisses you slowly, smiling at the way you grip onto him weakly. You’re shaking your head in response, pulling him closer by the shirt as you pull away briefly, giving you just enough time to say, 

“Definitely not. Wanna get outta here?”

And fuck, of course he does.

[clovrecs]

eclipse rising

❝ if you keep going down this path, you’re going to die, soobin. ❞

PAIRING ▸ choi soobin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fantasy, fluff, angst, royal au, elemental prince au, friends to enemies to lovers

WARNINGS ▸ soobin’s the water prince but he’s scared of water, mentions of character death, mentions of war, soobin becomes a dick for a while, one makeout scene, ft. elf prince park sunghoon

SUMMARY ▸ chaos was a ladder and its rungs were slick with blood. if you couldn’t save soobin, he was bound to fall.

PLAYLIST ▸ can’t you see me by txt • where’s my love - alternate version by syml

WORD COUNT ▸ 11283 words

TAG LIST ▸ @shiningstar-byulxx​ @jjuniefiles​ @wintermer​​ @ladynightmareii​​ @yeonjxnnie @mcu-incorrect​​ @sooshibot​​ @hyukacity 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello !! i apologize for the wait but (finally) here’s my piece for @soobmint​​’s ‘the five princes’ collab! my storyline is going to be connected with @honeyju​​’s yeonjun piece! please check out the other author’s installments and i hope you enjoy !! ♡

FROM THE MOMENT YOU MET HIM, CHOI SOOBIN REMINDED YOU OF THE SEA.

The more time you spent understanding the infinite blue, the more you realized how unpredictable it truly was. One moment its waves could be a gentle wash over the shore, and the next it could be a strong current of water crashing against the rocks. Rough storms often angered the tides, the strong current sweeping away anything that would lay in its wake.

Yet, despite all that, the sea was the most beautiful sight to behold.

The Kingdom of Nymphe resided by the sea, so you had grown up observing its mysteries and wonders. Most children were born with a power based on their element. Yours was hydromancy, the ability to utilize water and see visions or insights of time. Thus, you weren’t expected to train like most elementalists. However, you longed to train alongside the other children at the shoreline, but the most you could do was observe their abilities. Water generation and aquatic breathing were relatively common amongst most kids, but you quickly learned that your ability was on another level.

Being born into nobility and having such a unique gift drew a lot of attention to your powers. Your parents were the Duke and Duchess of Nymphe, so you were expected to uphold expectations that exceeded far beyond what a normal elementalist was asked of. From a young age, your training was separate from the other children. Thus, you were distant from the other Nymphians (as the citizens of Nymphe were often called). Instead, you were individually trained by experts in divination and clairvoyance as no one had seen powers like yours before.

On top of that, it became your duty to befriend the crown prince, Choi Soobin.

Keep reading

[clovrecs]

Violent Delights, Chapter Two: By the Hand of the King

HHJ

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

Chapter Word Count: 3.9k

Story Synopsis: Worlds that were never meant to collide, caught in political and emotional turmoil taken for the worst. But even the destruction of kingdoms that followed couldn't have stopped him burning down the world for the mortal that made his mouth water in thirst and dead heart beat.

Warnings: mentions of blood, vampire!hyunjin, witch!reader, eventual smut, themes of vampirism, family problems, probably very inaccurate representation of how medieval hierarchy actually works, a sappy confession

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

-

Hyunjin has never hated himself more than he did now, standing across the room from you, who had never been more embarrassed. With his back against the wall, Hyunjin kept his face towards the ground in an attempt to avoid looking at you, the flush on your cheeks too inviting. 

Hands folded politely in front of him, he listened intently to the quiet conversation between Jisung and his father to distract himself from your rapid heart beating through the dining hall.

“You are going to be accompanying me to tomorrow’s meeting. It’s time you start learning about the realm’s political matters,” the King spoke to his son, bringing a glass cup filled with O-Neg to his lips.

“Father, I already understand politics. It’d be more useful for me to attend hunting lessons,” Jisung retorted with half his attention on the prettily plated fruits in the center of the table.

“Not tomorrow, you will be joining me. The council has been awaiting my answer on the realm’s inflation and I’d like your opinion.”

“So ask me my opinion now, not in front of your pretentious councilmen just so they can sit there and whisper about how irrelevant my opinion even is.” The room was silent besides the occasional cricket chirping.

It was the same conversation every meal time, the King telling the Prince to be more princely and Jisung wanting nothing to do with it, resulting in another squabble and someone angrily storming out— who it is just depends on the discussion for the night. This time, the focus shifts quickly from Jisung to Princess Yeji.

“Just do as you’re told for once, will you?” Yeji interjected, raising an eyebrow at her brother. Her voice made your ears perk up, the hem of your dress seemingly less interesting now. Unintentionally— or maybe subconsciously— your eyes fell across the dining room on a particular vampire who was nervously failing to melt into the walls. Hyunjin looked anywhere but you, if possible he’d be just as red in the face except out of humiliation instead. 

Burning in the back of your throat, you wanted to get his attention somehow. Why was he avoiding you? Why couldn’t he even look in your general direction? Did you repulse him that much? Disgust laced his features, you could see Hyunjin biting the inside of his cheek, the same face he made when he had to sit with Jisung while he feasted on his weekly blood donations.

A loud thump followed by the clattering of metal dishes echoed throughout the stone room, the center of the commotion being the wooden table. Yeji was sitting prim and proper as usual, though holding her glass exceptionally tight. You looked up in time to see Jisung abruptly standing from his seat, holding himself back from lunging across the table at his older sister. The King did nothing to react at his children’s squabble while the Queen next to him shot daggered stares at her daughter, but still said nothing.

“Stay out of this,” Jisung was biting his tongue. “Go run off to the garden and continue playing pretend with the family witch. That’s all you’re good for.” All the eyes in the room turned to Yeji, with you in her background, suddenly feeling uneasy in the vicinity of so many vampires. Your gaze flickered around the room, unsure of where to look and ultimately settling back to the floor again.

Even under all the crushing attention, Yeji’s cool demeanor didn’t falter. Raising the cloth napkin to her lips and dabbing, she cleared her throat. “Play pretend, brother? Is that what I do?” Unbothered, she smiled up at her fuming sibling. From behind Jisung, Hyunjin took a step closer towards the Prince. “If that’s what you tell yourself to make you feel better, then sure. I play pretend. I also attend all of my classes, have brunch with mother, go to war meetings with father, pick up all of your slack in the council gatherings because my inadequate little brother can’t be bothered to take his role within the hierarchy seriously. So forgive me if I enjoy spending time with my friend in the garden.”

Silence filled the hall again, but you could hear your heart pumping loudly in your chest. If you could hear it, so could every other vampire within a mile. It wasn’t the tension between the two siblings that made your brain race, but rather that Princess Yeji thought of you as more than just an ear to spill her problems to. She thought of you as a companion, someone she could rely on. And it was the most warming acknowledgement you’d ever received, in front of her mother and father at that. But how inappropriate it was for you to be reacting in their presence, not that the Princess or Prince minded. The King shot you one quick, cold side eye and you forced yourself to control the muscle that kept you alive. With the burning in your cheeks, towards the floor did your head fall.

Prince Jisung scoffed, looking at his mother. The Queen understood her son better than most, sometimes better than he understood himself. When her eyes softened and she slowly, silently shook her head no, Jisung stormed off angrily. 

“Why can’t we have one meal together without someone leaving prematurely?” The King muttered, not directly at anyone but intended for all ears to hear.

“Because you force him to be someone he isn’t,” the Queen shot her head at her husband, delicately red painted lips flattening into an exasperated line.

He didn’t mean to, but Hyunjin let himself glimpse at you, tracing the pattern of the floor in your head. In the King’s presence, he didn’t allow for more than a millisecond to indulge in the sound of your heartbeat. Guilt paraded beneath his icy skin, but why, he couldn’t understand. Sorrow lingered as well, a tinge of desperation, and a bucket of self-loathing, Hyunjin straightened his posture and waited.

“Don’t talk to me about our children’s issues, Hyesung. I don’t have the time nor the patience to argue with you about this again.”

“Issues?” Yeji raised her voice, mimicking her absent brother by shoving her seat back forcefully. She had both her parents' attention, now. “I am exactly who you raised me to be. I am your daughter and the son you wish you had instead.” Not waiting for her father to respond, Yeji threw her napkin to the table and followed her brother towards the exit.

Your only common ground was now gone, leaving Hyunjin, you, and a few other service staff to accompany the King and Queen. Expressionless, her highness looked in the direction her children left while her husband pinched the bridge of his nose. Out of uncertainty, you looked at Hyunjin, who was already looking back. You couldn’t read his features now, something of a cross between sympathy and worry riddling behind his eyes and sad, pursed lips.

It was quiet for a few more painfully slow moments until the King spoke again, “Hyunjin, go make sure my son doesn’t destroy the courtyard again.” Quick, elegant, Hyunjin bent into a deep bow towards the royals and turned on his heel to leave. Just as you straightened your dress to follow him out of the room, he spoke again. “Y/N, stay. I need to speak to you.” Your breath hitched in your throat at the King’s forwardness. Very rarely did he ever address you by your first name, this time was the coldest he’s ever done so.

Hyunjin could hear your heartbeat pick up erratically again, almost making his footsteps stutter as he came to the wooden door. As soon as he was through the frame, he sharply turned and stayed close enough to listen in. It was purely reactionary, almost a second nature to be near you in case he needed to save you from any monster that wasn’t him.

Your feet felt heavy as you took a step towards the table, almost struggling to breath as though you’d just ran miles to get here. The King was a terrifying man, scary and incredibly powerful. Anyone could have guessed from his aura alone, around his wife, he was practically a god. His love for her overpowered his love for his own children, the knowledge made you internally shake as you approached her side.

As sweet as her daughter, Queen Isela gave you a short, reassuring nod before her husband continued his rant. “You are given one job,” he started, eyes of the purest crimson boring straight into you, almost through you. “I expect you to do it. Not feeding my daughter fairytales of outside these walls. Her role here is more important than your life will ever be. Remember your place.”

“Yes, your highness.” You gave him and the Queen a deep bow, “I apologize for overstepping.”

“You can go,” he dismissed you before you’d even stood up straight. When you did, Queen Isela gave you another melancholic nod, you escaped the dining hall as quickly as your lead feet could carry.

Hyunjin was still waiting, waiting for you to round the corner and bump into him. He’d make an excuse. Yeah, that’s what he’d do. He’ll tell you that he was coming back to inform the King of Jisung’s status. Maybe you’ll brush against his shoulder and he’d get to feel your body warmth again, or maybe you’ll stop to make conversation and he could comfort you. Maybe he–

The nonexistent air was knocked from Hyunjin’s lungs, sending him flying backwards into the cobblestone floor. Heat flooded his chest as his arms instinctively came to wrap around whatever it was that slammed him into the ground. Fragile, your skin warmed the palms of his hands as his back came crashing flat. He was so consumed in his thoughts that he didn’t realize the speed at which you were walking, he wasn’t braced for your impact.

You’d tried to cover your face to keep anyone from seeing the tears brimming in your eyes, not seeing the vampire that you’d body slammed into. Instinctively, your hands came out to catch yourself, despite landing on the person, your palms scraped against the cold cobblestone. It hardly hurt, you wouldn’t have felt it if the cuts didn’t catch onto the fabric of the vampire’s shirt as you pushed off their chest to stand. Muttering slurs of apologies and bending at the waist for a full bow, your damaged hands trembled at your side, not because of the pain but out of fear that you potentially knocked into the wrong vampire. Cold fingertips trailed lightly over the tops of your hands, not acknowledging your apologies but rather the now slightly bleeding scrapes.

Lifting your head and standing straight from the 90 degree angle, Hyunjin’s eyes were laser focused on your palms. His eyebrows were scrunched together in a concentrated furrow, almost pained as he flipped them over to reveal the injuries to both your hands. It wasn’t dripping in blood, but they would surely scab over by the end of the day. You could feel him shaking as he held you, unsure why.

The tip of his tongue poked out from between his lips, swiping the delicate skin and leaving a glistening layer to it. The scent of your exposed blood was making it harder for him to think, the same sweet, powdery florals flushing his nose as he lightly traced the edge of the cuts. “It doesn’t hurt,” you whispered. Whether you had said something before that, he didn’t know.

“I did this,” he murmured more to himself than you. As he pressed into the tender skin, more blood seeped from the scrapes, your scent growing even stronger. Pushing harder, a small, “ouch,” left your lips, getting Hyunjin to meet your eyes.

“C’mon.” Gently did he guide you towards your potion room. You didn’t necessarily need his help bandaging the wounds, but he stayed anyway. He forced you to sit on the wobbly wooden stool while he fleeted around the room gathering clean cloths, warm water, and something to sterilize. Wordlessly, Hyunjin motioned for you to stand so he could take your spot, guiding you to sit on the table instead. The height difference wasn’t much as you sat taller than him now, but just enough so that he had to look up to meet your face.

But he didn’t, he didn’t look at you once since returning to privacy. Even as you winced under the touch of the warm rag and when he wrapped the clean bandage around your hands, he didn’t dare look at the disappointment and disgust on your face.

If he had, he would see you contorted with concern, nothing but carefulness and longing in the way you gazed into his hidden crimson eyes. When he finally finished his task, Hyunjin moved to stand but your fingers on his shoulder kept him seated. Then, did he finally meet you face to face.

To his pleasure or agony– Hyunjin had no idea– you didn’t push him away. In fact, you stared directly into his beautiful red eyes, seeing the flecks of gold come and go the longer you kept the proximity. It was fascinating, how they quite literally swirled within the red, becoming more and more apparent. Then with the same hand on his shoulder, it came up to the side of his cheek, hesitant. The cold radiated off of him, it was soothing under your fire hot skin like you could almost hear it dimly sizzling. His lips trembled when the pads of your fingers made contact, yourself sucking in a deep breath out of fear he’d shy away.

Hyunjin didn’t move a single muscle. He sat still as stone as you examined his face. “You’re so pretty.” Somehow, the paperweight in his chest tightened as though he genuinely felt it beat.

His tongue was caught in a spiderweb as the words refused to be spoken, mind unable to form the right sentence to portray that– no. If I am pretty, then you are the model goddesses try to take after. And even after they attempt to understand your beauty, they still get it wrong.

Instead what came out was, “you’re so clumsy,” and took your hand gently away from his face. Cupping it between both of his, Hyunjin placed your wounded appendage gently into your lap and stood, leaving you breathless and embarrassed.

What had come over you? Speaking such words to your superior, your lord, a vampire. It was easy to hate living here with monsters, and somehow Hyunjin had made it tolerable. Now, you’d humiliated yourself in front of him and he flat out rejected you. How were you to ever face him after this? You wouldn’t, you decided. You’ll avoid him like the plague and tell Yeji that you just couldn’t attend dinner anymore, she’d definitely understand, right?

“I should go,” voice small, you whispered.

Hyunjin peered at you from over his shoulder, a pained smile and fake chuckle emitting from his mouth. When you raised an eyebrow at him, he rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor. “Twice I’ve been in here today and messed it up both times, hm?”

Your head tilted in even more confusion, and he flashed a big, fang filled smile in your direction. “You’re being weird,” you murmured.

“I’m being weird? My apologies, my lady. I’m just not used to having to care for a human. It’s like taking care of a pet.”

“A pet? That’s how you think of me?”

He’d blown it now. There it was again, the words not coming out right and he had no idea how to fix it. Hyunjin anxiously smoothed down the ends of his hair and took two steps towards you, retracting his fangs. “Th– that’s not what I meant.”

“That’s how it sounded.”

“I– I don’t–” he stopped himself, scared that it’d make things worse. In the span of one day, he’d almost bitten your head off, gotten you in trouble with the royals, injured you, made you bleed, and dismissed your clear courting signals. How did he end up here?

“Just say what you mean.” You weren’t messing around anymore, judging by your tone of voice. It was stern, demanding almost, though you were never the type to demand anything from anyone.

“If I tell you, you’ll run away.” He felt like he was collapsing in on himself, sinking into the floor and unable to move so he’d be forced to endure this emotional beating.

You let out an exasperated laugh, “you forget how fast you are. You’d catch me anyways.” It sounded quite literal when you put it that way, though there was a much more hidden meaning that no one had to look very deep for. There was no one other than him, no one that could’ve outshined him in any sense of the word, and no one else you’d risk your life for by the hand of the king.

Still, a cracked smile broke on his porcelain face in a way you couldn’t read other than it wasn’t the kind of happiness that met his eyes. No, Hyunjin seemed like he was hurting, just like every other time he was around you but somehow this was the worst it’s ever been. The gold in his eyes shone brighter, almost completely overtaking the red in the reflection of the yellow candle light. It was impossible to look away, somehow even more alluring than his usual sultry burgundy, something you’ve never seen from any vampire before.

Hesitating, Hyunjin reached up to untie the red ribbon that kept half his hair up, letting it fall into his face. He toyed with it for a second between his fingers before mumbling towards the ground, “I don’t need oxygen and you still make it hard for me to breathe.”

Your heart beat was speeding up, completely numb to the wound on your hands now as you leaned back onto one and the other clutched at your dress. It was thumping loud in your ears, probably even more so for him, watching the way Hyunjin turned to face you but kept his eyes to the floor. “How pathetic do I have to be to wish for something as useless as oxygen. I don’t need air in my lungs or a heart to pump blood through my body. I don’t need to be frightened of time because I have infinite amounts of it.” His slow footsteps echoed closer, “I don’t age or feel pain the way humans do. Any magical illness I face, you’re there to save me.”

Through the fringe of his hair, Hyunjin looked up at you. The gold was more than prominent now, so bright you should’ve been worried. It was like he had a torch of his own behind the very irises that were in his skull. Inch by inch, he closed the distance until he was in front of you again, towering over your nervous figure.

“Isn’t it sad, my lady,” the tops of his thighs brushed against your knees, the only contact besides bringing his hands up to gather your hair and pulling it over to one side. Separating into three strands and beginning to braid, he continued, “I have the strength and power of the gods and yet I’ve never felt more weak than when I’m with you.” As his words trailed off and your breath hitched in your throat, nimble fingers tied off your hair with the ribbon.

It felt like the same bow in your hair was tightening around your neck, constricting you from making a sound other than a pathetic whimper as Hyunjin let his hands fall to the table on either side of you. It strung tighter around your airway when he rested his weight onto them, coming in just centimeters from your face. The crimson eyes you were so used to looked unreal now, entirely replaced by the golden amber of this new Hyunjin. You felt uneasy and excited, cautious and daring all at the same time as he caged you in.

Somehow, between the centimeters distancing your and his lips decreasing and the pounding of your heart in your chest you found your voice again, “truly, it’s pathetic.” His pretty eyes narrowed at your words, though not interrupting. You paused, let him sweat for a moment before continuing, “you speak of immortality like it’s a gift. You get to be young and beautiful forever but at what cost?”

“You think I’m beautiful?” He smirked, with his eyes this time.

“I told you you’re pretty minutes ago and you responded by calling me a pet and poking fun at the fragility of my measly human body. I’m starting to think you enjoy giving me emotional whiplash, my lord.”

“Death doesn’t scare me but you do.”

“Being cryptic again.”

“I want to kiss you.”

“No one’s stopping you.”

“This is,” a cold hand pressed into your chest just where your heart lies beneath. The cold of his fingers grazing your exposed collar bone made goosebumps rise along your skin. “This stupid, useless piece of meat that is keeping my precious little witch alive.”

Possession. Claim. His. His little witch.

There was a tint of desperation that lingered in his tone, making you the slightest more confident. “I’m not yours until you make me yours.” 

“You’re asking so much of me tonight.”

“And you’re giving me so little.” Adrenaline in your body made you scoot closer to the edge of the table, knees making way for him to nudge just that much more into you. Even through the thick fabric of your dress and his own clothing, it was exhilarating to feel him against you.

“I know what you want. Take your own advice and say it.” His plump lips brushed against yours, hardly grazing and it sent sparks down your spine.

“Kiss me.”

“One more time.”

“You talk too much.” You closed the almost nonexistent gap, softly pressing your lips to his. It was gentle, a young and inexperienced kiss because that’s as far as it got. Hyunjin repeated your actions, kissing you sweetly without pushing it any further. Skin cold but so good, sharp fangs just one wrong move away from piercing your own flesh. But that didn’t matter. Perhaps you were being reckless but you couldn’t help it, pulling him as close as he’d let you. The push and pull of your two varying strengths felt like a game, an addictive gamble wondering who’d power over the other when the two of you knew who was really in charge. A game of wits, if you will. Who had the most self control and who would be the first to break.

Hyunjin wouldn’t let himself so much as touch you any other way, while you balled your fingers into the thin material of his silk blouse. The sound of your lips colliding and breaking apart, one after another bounced off the cobblestone walls. It was too much and not enough, you’ve wanted to kiss him for so long and now you were overwhelmed while actually being able to do it. The only reason you pulled away was to be able to catch your breath.

“I take your breath away too, don’t I?” Hyunjin smirked against your lips, puckering and giving you a few more chaste kisses and accepting them wholeheartedly.

Match point.

[clovrecs]

Violent Delights, Chapter One: Legacies and the Potion Maker

HHJ

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

Chapter Word Count: 6.3k

Story Synopsis: Worlds that were never meant to collide, caught in political and emotional turmoil taken for the worst. But even the destruction of kingdoms that followed couldn't have stopped him burning down the world for the mortal that made his mouth water in thirst and dead heart beat.

Warnings: mentions of blood, vampire!hyunjin, witch!reader, eventual smut, themes of vampirism, body comparisons(?) and slight classism(?), not much this chapter kinda just mutual pining and introductions for the time being

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

-

Prince Jisung had been born into royalty, quite literally everything had been handed to him on a golden platter. He was only given the best of everything money could buy; education, clothes, the literal castle that he lived in. But Prince Jisung was also the black sheep of the family, he didn’t look anything like his parents or his older sibling, facial features distinctly different from the siren-esque royals of his family. The realm’s people all thought the same thing, however refused to say anything out of fear of the tyrant King’s harsh hand for punishment.

Born vampires were known as legacies, the strongest of the vampire race and typically the ones that ruled over the realm. Jisung’s father, the King, raised his youngest son under strict parenting compared to his older sister, but not without reason. The prince was reckless and irresponsible, skipping out on lessons or making bigger messes than necessary at meal times because he just couldn’t fight the hunger that coursed through him. It was common knowledge that if the King didn’t have a girl as his first born, Princess Yeji would be in line for the throne and not Jisung. If the Prince didn’t know any better, he’d assume that his father despised both his kids for their inevitable flaws.

Hyunjin was assigned to accompany Prince Jisung from a young age, also being a part of the legacies because his bloodline descended from the King’s first hand. Automatically, Hyunjin became first hand to the irresponsible Prince and has been Jisung’s only friend since as far back as either of them could remember.

The rest of the working staff talked, of course. They gossiped and spread rumors that would have everyone killed if it made it to the King’s ears. Every single rumor– theories of Jisung’s strange appearance, the peasant boy Princess Yeji snuck into her chambers, even who ate the last of the King’s favorite O-Neg tartes– stopped dead cold at you, the involuntary witch and healer that belonged to the royal family. You’d never let any of the royal children hear of the cruel and rude things their staff thought of their little family, growing accustomed to them over the years you spent in their home.

Yeji was the first to speak to you, both of age eight when you were offered as a sign of allegiance between the witch clans and the vampire realm. You were taken back to their castle in hopes of being raised to be a sufficient healer and potions maker for the King, everything you knew was taught to you by the witch that came before you. The princess happened to stumble upon the potions room during a lesson and became intrigued, loving the different colors you were able to make out of simple ingredients and they could turn her tongue purple. It was only because of her were you able to break the ice with her brother and his hand, ultimately leading to the King and Queen taking a particular liking to their skilled little witch– at least, as much liking as the bloodthirsty King could manage.

Prince Jisung was ignorant, he didn’t care much for your antics with his one and only friend, let alone what either of you did when he wasn’t around. Princess Yeji, however, indulged in the happenings of you and Hyunjin, especially when the two of you were sent outside of the castle on royal errands. She loved the stories of the outside, how easily you were able to walk around the realm without worry even though you could be torn limb from limb in under a second. In short, Yeji requested you to be at her side more than her actual head maid, meaning you became the unofficial/official first hand to the Princess. No one questioned why the King allowed such a thing, not when his beautiful daughter, with her cutthroat eyes and alluring features, asked for you to be more than their witch. The King wanted a first born son, but even against the odds he still had a soft spot for his little girl.

Your friendship with Hyunjin grew through the official trips the two of you had to take for royal affairs. You’d never go as far to say your friendship was as strong as yours and Yeji’s, or his and Jisung’s, but there was still a fondness that could be felt by anyone that had eyes. The King didn’t trust any of the guards to keep you safe, making Hyunjin accompany you into the city for whatever herbs or ingredients you required. Of course, people talked. Hyunjin was supposed to be at the Prince’s beck and call, day or night. What was he doing with the King’s witch in the slums of the realm?

Hyunjin was stronger than most vampires, even overpowering that of the King’s head guard, making for an overly exceptional sparring partner. Jisung hated when Hyunjin was invited to his fighting lessons because of the sheer embarrassment he’d feel when Hyunjin would send him on his ass. Another reason Jisung rebelled against his father, the King’s adoration for his best friend. That, of course, sparked many arguments between the father and son, arguments Jisung neglected to tell Hyunjin of to spare each other’s feelings.

The most recent trip you’d taken with Hyunjin allowed for him to follow you into the more remote part of the realm, closer to the border of the witch clans where you’d always longed to visit. His black, shoulder length hair was almost enough to overshadow you, blood rushing through your veins and making your cheeks pink. Mortals were incredibly rare in these parts, making the sea of vampires that rushed to see split in half as the two of you walked the small town in search of the pharmacy.

Pale faces blocked your vision almost entirely, hissing and muttered chattering very closely distracting you from your job. Hyunjin could feel you tensing next to him, body heat burning against his arm despite being covered in the royal family colors. Hesitantly and without looking down at you, he lightly placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you to where he could see your desired destination. It was reassuring, to say the least, feeling his touch in such a stressful and public environment. You let him step in front of you, keeping you close to him as Hyunjin parted easily through the growing crowd of hungry vampires.

If it wasn’t necessary, Hyunjin would’ve never laid a finger on you– not in public, anyway. Rumors spread all too quickly amongst the commoners. He usually reserved that privilege for when the two of you were alone, but even then, it was nothing more than an innocent hand on your shoulder. Still, the rush you felt from his ice cold fingers against the thin material of your indoor gown was electrifying. Him touching you in such a place– and in front of an entire town– almost had you fainting from the taboo of it all.

Neither of you brought up the interaction in town, choosing to ignore it while you bought from the pharmacy and made your way back to the castle. You all but forced Hyunjin out of the potions room when he attempted to follow you.

“B– but you always let me help with remedies,” he stuttered, dumbfounded as you refused to even let him through the doorway.

“I’m not going to work on it just yet,” you lied. “I’ll– I’ll send for you when I do.” His face lit up again at the promise. Whether he genuinely enjoyed helping you or if it was just an excuse to get out of his duties, you didn’t know. Either way, you ran to find Yeji.

She was in the garden because that’s where she always was during her downtime. Upon seeing you, flustered and out of breath, she jumped to her feet. “Where have you been? Why do you look like my father just made you attend hunting practice with my brother?”

“I wish that’s what he made me do.” It was an honest answer. Anything would have been better than fighting the bubbling in your stomach at the mere thought of Hyunjin and his hands.

Taking your arm in hers, Yeji guided you towards the rows of rose bushes. They weren’t quite in season yet, bare bushes spread out in a maze-like pattern. The lack of rainfall in the realm has made the castle look almost as gloomy as one would think a vampire’s castle is. 

Her dress was much bigger than yours, taking up most of the walkway space, not that you minded. If anything, you felt bad for her not being able to even walk freely in her own home. It was times like these you were thankful Yeji talked the King into giving you much more practical and personalized gowns for when you were at the castle. The slip dress was cinched just under your bust, extending down to your feet and allowing for your kitten heels to peek out from underneath. The only thing that made your gown remotely attractive would be the puff of the sleeves, making your arms look slim.

Yeji knew of all the alone time you spent with the Prince’s first hand, “tell me! What happened in the village?” Just like she read your mind. In all fairness, it was a possibility. You wouldn’t doubt that she could be born with a supernatural gift just as most legacies were. But alas, neither of the royal children possessed such powers. If she could, you were sure she would have mentioned it.

“Princess, I don’t think it’s appropriate,” the words made Yeji roll her eyes.

“Please! I’ve heard worse from the guards when they think no one is around. Did you know brothels are still around? Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s nothing in comparison.” You winced at the thought of going to such places, knowing that in the vampire realm, they’re nothing good.

For some reason, your mind drifted to Hyunjin. Did he go to those places when he wasn’t at the castle? Did he sneak out in the dead of night to meet up with a vampire that was very much capable of satisfying his needs? Was it something he’s imagined indulging in? The thought made your chest sting and stomach sink. However, Yeji nudged you out of your head. When your eyes darted around to the maids that aided the Princess, she politely shooed them away for some privacy. “You can tell me anything,” she whispered, taking your hand in her cold one.

Your eyes drifted to where your skin met, the color difference so obvious. It never made any sense to you how anyone in the castle was able to be within five feet of you and not want to rip your head off. Jisung had a theory that it was because witch’s blood didn’t taste very good, something to do with the magic that coursed their veins.

This was the first time you’d truly examined the difference in your skin’s texture, too. Yeji glimmered even with the lack of sunlight. There didn’t seem to be a single hair where there didn’t need to be, let alone any pores or signs of other imperfections. Skin as pale as possible and fingers dainty, painted wine red, she was just that– perfect. The perfect vampire.

The intensity of your gaze made her pull her hand away, replacing them onto your shoulders and forcing you to face her. Her sudden movement made you look at her in confusion. Once she knew she had your attention, Yeji kept your head in place by taking your chin between her thumb and pointer finger. She stared into your eyes, not blinking or looking away. It was strange, she’d never been this adamant on looking at you before, it was intimidating. “You,” Yeji said sternly.

“Me?”

“You,” teasingly, she shook your head back and forth, “are so beautiful.” To say the compliment caught you off guard would be an understatement. You could feel your heart speeding up at four simple words. Again, like she could hear what you were thinking, she placed the hand on your face to your chest where your heart lies beneath. “This is beautiful, too.”

At a loss for words, you smiled at her, placing your hand over hers again. It was inappropriate to even be touching her, something that would’ve gotten most people killed. Instead, Yeji threw her arms over your shoulders and pulled you in for an unexpected hug. She didn’t squeeze, just letting her drape over you. When you didn’t reciprocate– mostly out of fear of what her father would do if he saw– she let you go and looped her arm through yours again.

“So,” Yeji guided you deeper into the garden. “What happened at the village? With Hyunjin?” The emphasis she put on his name made your throat burn, swallowing loudly. The giggle she let out at your reaction made you cave.

“Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Yes, yes! Just tell me!”

“Princess, I mean it. Not a single soul,” your tone growing serious made her stick her pinky out to you. You wanted to laugh at her vow for secrecy. Wrapping your pinky around hers, she squealed and urged you to continue. “Well, there were a lot of vampires that were in the town center. I think they could smell me or something. They surrounded Hyunjin and I.” The Princess ooh’d upon the mention of the black haired boy. “I got a bit overwhelmed. They were looking at me like they wanted to suck me dry!” A short chuckle escaped your lips, remembering the way Hyunjin towered over you compared to the lowly people of the rural village.

“I think he noticed I was scared. I can’t be sure, but he put his hand on my back and–”

“He touched you?!” Her whisper was more like a scream, loud enough to turn the heads of the guards near the garden’s entrance. “Shhh!”

Yeji sniggered again, leaning her head into yours in a lame attempt to stop laughing. “By god, will you please, Princess! You’re going to get both of us in trouble!” The lingering staff was closing in now, concerned for the Princess’s strange behavior.

When she looked up again, her face was serious again. Maids that were hiding around the corner turned their backs as she looked to speak. “I can’t believe he’d do something so scandalous! In front of so many people! I can’t tell if it’s reckless or brave.”

“What would he need bravery for? He’s already the strongest vampire of your generation.” It was a fair question– the cryptic way that Yeji stopped her walk and looked as though she’d seen a ghost, was not. Mostly because you couldn’t question her intentions. But you could, however, ask about her health. “Princess, it’s much too hot out here for you. Should we go inside and I’ll make you something to soothe your skin?” She nodded quickly, allowing you to walk in front of her and lead the way to the potions room.

Another blessing of being the King’s witch, no one else used the potions room besides you. Most of the staff had no idea where it even was, hidden between the royal chambers and the dining room for quick access in case of emergencies. Even with their long lineage of vampire blood, the royals were just as susceptible to magical foul play as any other. Both Yeji and Jisung were given their own corner of the living quarters for their respective spaces while the King and Queen stayed on the other side of the castle with the dining hall in between. A quick waltz through the large hall where Jisung was having his lunch, and Yeji all but shoved you into the room, slamming the door shut with her maids on the other side.

What you didn’t see as you skipped to keep up with the Princess was Hyunjin beside Prince Jisung, mumbling to him the same story you were to his sister. Jisung was on his last glass of A-positive as his friend offered him a napkin. “They all looked like they were about to pounce on her, I had to get her out of there,” Hyunjin defended himself.

Though, he didn’t need to. If anything, Jisung was just as supportive of the friendship with you. He was hardly listening because to him, Hyunjin rambling about the small, defenseless little witch was just another Tuesday. From the corner of his eye, the Prince watched as his sister all but dragged you away, “speaking of the devil herself.”

Following his gaze, Hyunjin immediately stood, the echoing of the wooden chair on the floor screeching in the concrete room. He felt his breath escape him for a moment, advanced eyesight allowing him to see the flush of your cheeks from across the room. He found it cute how hard you tried to keep up with the Princess’s almost running pace, falling behind her hand in hand as you two rounded the corner and out of sight. Though, he knew exactly where you were headed. “Go. I know you want to,” Jisung waved, not bothering to look at his friend.

“Your highness, if you don’t need me for the time being–”

“C’mon, Hyunjin. You know you don’t have to call me all that royal bullshit. Go entertain your little witch before I get my hands on her first.” Hyunjin cringed at the idea of Jisung entertaining you the way his tone implied, it made him almost keel over in disgust at the thought of any man putting his hands on you. With a deep bow, Hyunjin excused himself and went straight for your labratory.

If there weren’t so many maids in the corridor, he’d have been undoing his cufflinks before even entering the room. However, the over abundance of the useless staffs made it clear the Princess was still with you, so Hyunjin moved with caution. “Why don’t you all go alter some corsets or something. Stop waiting for the Princess to tell you what to do,” he motioned for them to scatter, rolling his eyes as he came up to the door. Just as he was about to enter, he heard your voice mumbling on the other side.

“Princess, I can’t explain it. I wish I could make something that makes me feel the way you do about– what’s his name again?”

“A love potion is not the solution to your problem, Y/N. And his name is unimportant now. I had him for dinner last night and I don’t think he’ll be up and walking any time soon.”

Your laughter bounced off the cobblestone walls, Hyunjin could feel his deadweight heart wring at the sound. A somewhat smitten smirk fell onto his lips as he listened closer.

“I don’t want a love potion, Princess. I want something to make me fall out of love. But I don’t think that sort of thing exists.” Footsteps padded closely to the door, making Hyunjin flinch away for a second. His hand lingered on the knob, waiting for an opportune moment to make his presence known.

“If you want to fall out of love, I think you’d have to be in love first. Baby steps. All he did was to–”

“But it’s not just that,” you interrupted her. Hyunjin wanted to hear what Yeji was going to say, who did what to you and why do you think you’re in love with them? “When he talks, it’s like he’s only talking to me. Sometimes, he’ll come in here and… It’ll feel like we’re the only two people in the whole castle.”

His fist balled up at the way you described this mystery man. In his mind, Hyunjin ran through every other person you’d had in the potions room alone other than him. Yeji doesn’t count, the maids that clean the floors and walls are hardly interesting enough. Were you talking about Jisung? The way he talked about you earlier made him start to doubt his supportive friend’s words of encouragement all this time.

You kept going, “is it so wrong? To not want to feel like this? Princess, I feel a way that most people would kill to feel even once in their life. And I don’t want it.” You spoke so quickly as if to get all your thoughts out before the chance was gone.

Hyunjin let out a breath he didn’t realize he held in, in a way relieved that you suppressed your emotions for this mystery person.

“Do you truly want my advice?”

“Of course.”

“Talk to him. I think he’d be more than willing to agree—“

His eyes blew wide and opened the door in a haste, barging in on the very private conversation. Both you and Yeji jumped from your places on opposite sides of the big wooden table, her facing the door seated and you standing with your back to it. Upon seeing Hyunjin, the Princess let out a sigh and exasperated chuckle. Whereas you froze, cheeks beginning to burn crimson of embarrassment— little to his knowledge. 

The three of you stood in awkward silence, your voice caught in your throat while Hyunjin kept his eyes trained on your blushing face. Yeji raised an eyebrow, looking between you and her brother’s hand with a knowing smirk. “I think I’ll fetch myself some tea,” she said clearly, standing from her seat and pushing past Hyunjin to leave. Before going, she stopped to whisper something in his ear, indiscernible to you but his eyes grew even wider than before, quickly returning to normal. “You’ll accompany me for dinner?” Princess Yeji turned her attention back to you.

“Yes— of course, your highness.” With that, you bowed. Hyunjin stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

Wordlessly, he came in closer, tiptoeing around you as you paced aimlessly in front of the wall of elixirs. Hyunjin watched you with an entertained smirk, sitting where the Princess previously was. You grabbed random ingredients, not that Hyunjin could tell you were masking your nervousness. “Was I interrupting something?” He asked, nonchalantly placing his elbow on the table and leaning onto his palm. 

Your breath caught in your throat, unable to do anything to keep you from looking at him. However, that seemed to be something you still lacked control over, the beauty he possessed was far too enchanting that you just couldn’t help but stare. His deep navy blouse brightened his skin in an almost translucent way. Like all vampires, his full lips were of the human pink, somehow still plump and soft looking. The grin he had made his fangs slightly poke into his lower lip, something you knew he did when he wanted to tease. Generally, the royals and their staff kept their fangs hidden in the castle out of respect. Hyunjin putting his on display now was his way of showing informality.

“N— no, sir. I was just showing the Princess some— erm, new blood enhancers I created.” You couldn’t have been less convincing. Everything about the sentence was as false as it could’ve been, but nonetheless, Hyunjin indulged.

“Oh? Mind if I test one out?”

“Actually, I’d rather if you didn’t. M— maybe a vampire of… Less authority… Should test it.” Your voice faltered as he slowly rose to stand, making his way over to you in a saunter. The closing proximity was almost dizzying, amplified even more because of the lingering emotions you had from your conversation with the Princess. 

The stutter in your words only made Hyunijn’s cheekiness grow, hiding his fangs the closer he got to you. Your scent was always strong to him, always so present from even across the room. But now, as he took the random herbs and viles from your hands carefully so as not to touch you, he was engulfed. Practically drowning in your natural smell of sweet and powdery florals, Hyunjin had to fight the urge to lean over and breathe you in deeply. Everything about you invited him in like a warm hug, except you were laced with toxins that could overwhelm him before the blink of an eye. You were a drug Hyunjin refused to take, no matter how badly he wanted to overdose.

Even so, Hyunjin was hovering over you now, freeing your hands of the anxious hoarding and displacing the items onto the table. You’d been close to him before, in the village earlier and whenever he’d visit you various other times, but never like this. He’d usually keep some sort of distance, standing behind you or off to the side. However he seemed to have gained some newfound confidence, forcing you back into the wall of premade elixirs and caging you in. His hands didn’t touch you, but rather leaning onto the shelf behind you and forcing your vision to tunnel onto him only– as if you could’ve looked anywhere else. He didn’t smell like a normal vampire, sort of icy and a hint of iron. Instead you could find hints of warm honey and rose, sickly sweet just like his smile.

The gaze which he kept on you was intimidating and it made you want to melt into the floor just to get away from it, while still eager to hold his stare in a challenge. Hyunjin tilted his head down and slightly to the side while his lips parted to speak. “Do I make you nervous, little witch?” 

The whispered question set your entire body aflame. How were you to tell him that yes, he made you extremely nervous, much more than any vampire has in your entire life. Not for fear for your life but instead, fear for your heart. How were you to tell him that every time he said your name you became weak in the knees or the way his eyes always found you no matter how crowded the room was almost sent you into cardiac arrest. Impossible and unrealistic, you could never speak such things to the Prince’s first hand. Above all, it could not only get you killed, but him as well.

You could feel his breath fan your cheeks, but stop when he closed them again after your lack of response and abruptly pushed off the shelf away. He turned his back to you immediately, allowing you to let out air you didn’t feel being held in. Hyunjin didn’t turn to face you, leaning his back against the edge of the table and looking straight ahead at the stone wall. 

You make me feel things much greater than words can describe, is what you wished to say. But instead what came out was, “do you ever think about–”

“No.” The quick manner in which Hyunjin cut off your question caught you off guard, stuttering over yourself while he didn’t so much as look at you.

“I didn’t even finish–”

His eyes shot open and snapped in your direction, intent on not moving from your face. “I would never dream of stealing even a drop of your blood, little witch.” Words so serious, yet leisure in the way he carried himself. There was no more of the proper first hand to the Prince that stood before you, but purely Hyunjin himself. Perhaps he felt more comfortable in your presence than he’d ever admit, the most at ease he’s been in what felt like lifetimes despite only being in this realm for twenty-some years. He was young, he knew he couldn’t feel like this forever, he knew looking into your eyes that you’d eventually age and leave him for good. But Hyunjin still couldn’t stop his mouth watering at the gentle mention of your blood.

“How do all you vampires know exactly what I’m thinking?” The corner of your lip twitched in amusement, making the man before you sigh and tip his head back.

“You’re very easy to read.”

Hyunjin rolled his head back around towards you, a sinful smile playing across his face. The taunting way his eyes rode up your body slowly gave you a sudden confidence boost, starting at your feet and making your stomach burn. You could feel the heat from his cold eyes boring through you like lava, most prominent between your thighs.

One thing about him, he has no shame behind closed doors. No shame in the way his eyes lingered longer over your covered legs and didn’t move until you were standing in front of him. How the tables were turned and giving him nowhere to run. No shame that Hyunjin readjusted to spread his legs and give you an opportunity to slide between them. No shame in how he reached for your hand and black, blown out eyes followed the trail of your skin up your arm and over your chest. The exposed skin of your cleavage was hardly promiscuous, but nonetheless enough to make Hyunjin lick his lips with anticipation.

The cold of his fingertips just under your palm made you want to follow them into his embrace, only you didn’t. You stayed put at the edge of his limber legs, terrified in more ways than one to take even a step closer.

Various candles were the only thing illuminating the dark room, Hyunjin’s back to the bulk of them and making the orange glow surround him like a halo.

“What am I thinking now?” You found the courage to say, his hand tightening its gentle grip and bringing your knuckles to his rosy lips.

He bowed his head, strands of black hair falling to frame his heavenly face. Hyunjin took in a slight breath, eyes fluttering shut and mouth parting again slightly. The sigh he let out was made you cringe because of how torturous his features contorted. Still, the warmth of his breath against your hand made the skin tingle, spreading through your entire body. The way his shoulder shuddered made you think, maybe he was in pain. Maybe being near you was so unbearable that he did everything he could to get away as soon as possible and that’s why moments with him were always fleeting. Either way, having him so intimately made the sensation stick between your legs.

As he sucked in another strained breath, “him,” he replied. Your eyes squinted confused as his opened. “You’re thinking of him, whoever he is. I can smell it.” You almost didn’t hear him, how softly he spoke. Could he smell how much you wanted him?

The adrenaline kicked through your system again, your own breathing becoming unstable as he pulled your hand in towards his chest. Your nerves were on hyperdrive and mind drowning in worry. Had he heard your conversation with the Princess? If he did, wouldn’t he know it was him that you were talking about?

Even through his clothes, you could feel the lack of body temperature against the iciness of his palm pressing your hand to his body. You couldn’t take your gaze away from the distinction in your skin’s tone compared to his, incredibly similar to that of Princess Yeji’s. What you didn’t see was him watching you, monitoring every slight movement of your facial muscles that he’d hoped would tell him you didn’t want this, that you didn’t want him the way he so badly wanted you. Hyunjin could hear your heart beating erratically, your breathing staggering the longer your skin touched his. He could smell the hormones engulfing your natural scent as the pads of your fingers and palm pressed into his stone hard chest.

Gentle, soft, you trailed over his pectoral towards his heart. You knew better than to expect anything beneath, but still, you hoped. Only to find nothing. There was no beating of the muscle that’s supposed to pump blood through his body, there was no life that lived within him. There was only cold, ice, the smell of honey and roses and iron wearing the skin of the most beautiful being you’ve ever seen.

Right now, he was glad you weren’t looking at him. Hyunjin was happy that you weren’t looking at the disgusting creature he saw himself to be. Right now, you were probably realizing that he was nothing but a monster that was only capable of taking life, never giving. Though he hated everything about his own existence, Hyunjin couldn’t deny the fact that right now, with your body heat sending waves through him, he’d never felt more alive.

The first button of his shirt had come undone, showing only the smallest bit of his collar bone beneath it. The dim lighting did nothing to hide the smoothness of his skin or how badly you wanted to run your fingers over it. Without a single thought in your head, eyes fixated on the delicacy of his chest, you let slip, “there is no ‘him.’”

Hyunjin’s hand over yours fell tender, his hard body relaxing into your touch as you mindlessly confessed something you probably shouldn’t have. He wanted to believe you, that you were just sparing his feelings because deep inside he knew that things with you were never meant to be. That didn’t stop him from reaching up with his other hand and placing it on the bend of your forearm, pulling you in closer. By this point, you couldn’t work up the energy to get away. The outsides of your knees softly knocked against the insides of his thighs, falling victim to the rose and honey and iron. When he took his hands off you entirely, yours stayed put on his chest, suddenly in no rush to increase the distance.

Steadying his near trembling body by leaning back on one arm, Hyunjin’s pointer finger ever so hardly tipped your chin up to meet his gaze. Even with the casual way he sat against the table, he towered over you, having to crane your neck up.

He could’ve drilled a hole through your skull with how intently he searched your irises as if looking for something he’d lost, or rather hunted for. The nervous parting of your lips only invited him to keep his stare on you longer.

What you meant by your words, Hyunjin had no idea and had every intent of finding out. The whispered information passed to him from Yeji before her leaving only left him wanting more, needing more than he’d ever been given by you. The instructions she gave him were clear as day, “act fast or lose her to a potion that doesn’t exist. Yet.”

So badly he wanted to just lean in and kiss you, make you feel exactly what it was he felt. But there was an overpowering urge for something more that he wouldn’t allow himself to give in to. The drug that sang his name, calling and beckoning for him to indulge. Just a taste, just a kiss, a bite, just give in to the toxins that paraded your blood and flushed his senses stupid. 

How stupid, indeed, the volume at which he had to restrain his muscles from having a mind of their own and allowing himself just a taste.

The fangs he kept so well hidden around you were slowly emerging again, pushing past his lower lip and letting his tongue unconsciously swipe against it. It was obvious to you now that the mention of your blood rewired his brain momentarily. Perhaps he didn’t hear the conversation earlier, he was merely playing into your idiotic human emotions and allowed for him to get in close, only to tear through your flesh like a knife through butter.

Your body froze in its place, your eyes drifting back and forth between his dangerous lips and piercing eyes. Everything inside you told you to run, make a break for it while you still could otherwise you could lose your life right here, right now. But you couldn’t move, no will left in your limbs to so much as take a step back.

The dip of his plush lips against the sharp fangs intrigued you. How could his skin withstand the pointiness, you couldn’t comprehend. And when you don’t understand things, the magical and curious blood inside you only makes you want to experiment. Curiosity always kills the cat, though. It’s a good thing that they have nine lives.

Hyunjin caught himself too late. He’d taken too long to retract his incisors and now you were holding your breath out of fear, he presumed.

Panicked, his eyes grew large and placed two firm hands on your shoulders, pushing you back ever so slightly as he stood tall. Like he’d caught himself again, he stole his hands back to his body and inched around you to break from the staring contest, doing his best to not so much as breathe the same air. You were confused, watching him walk on eggshells when seconds ago he looked as though he wanted to ravage you. The sudden change in demeanor made your head spin and heart ache.

“Hyunjin?”

The sound of your voice saying his name almost made him break his resolve, again. He felt tortured by the fact that that alone was enough to get him to turn around.

Just as he reached a hand out, like he wanted to speak, he stopped himself. Hyunjin had a bad habit of doing that when it came to you. He knew that was his downfall. What cowardice, a monster as strong as him afraid of a mere witch. 

So yes, he kept himself from muttering another word out of humiliation that you didn’t have to lift a single finger to get him that way.

Before either of you could move again, a single knock to the wooden door and the creaking of the hinges opening made for Hyunjin’s perfect getaway. “The Princess and Prince require your services for dinner.”

-

A/N: this is me soft launching a new (mini?) series I've been dying to do! In my head I imagine the color pallet of this looking like the live action movie of Alice In Wonderland before she falls down the rabbit hole, like a pale blue filter over everything with red being the most contrasting color ya know?

Depending on how well the next few chapters go I'll think about making this longer than intended because I'm really excited to write this!!

Feedback, comments, anything and everything is appreciated!

-momo < 3

[clovrecs]

DIRECTOR'S CUT: Chapter 1

«SERIES MASTERLIST»

“Psst, true blue,” you touched his shoulder to wake him up. Hyunjin was startled to death when he saw you hovering over him and immediately jumped to his feet like responding to a drill sergeant. “Come with me,” you said leisurely and started walking back to your office. When he began following after you, still somewhat dazed, he knew he had to keep the fanboying to a minimum, but unfortunately for him, the voices in his head were telling him they ran out of self-control juice and that he was on his own this time.

Chapter 1: True Blue

📜5.2K words | Approx. 22-min. read 🚨Please see the series masterlist for general warnings: Discussion on the objectification of women in the porn industry, that one professor who holds radical beliefs in the passing. 📻Accompanying soundtrack 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

Porn.

A scene appeared before your eyes when you read that word, didn’t it?

A woman possibly cast through DMs, Craigslist modeling ads if you were old school, looking for people to fuck on camera. A cheap one due to budgetary restrictions. An excuse of a script for that amateur, ‘real deal’ feeling. A scene all about the guy and his desires because why the hell not? He was the main character after all—the woman was just there to assist his orgasm and almost thank him for getting punish-fucked. If the talent tried to act, it was almost always bad. Horrendous even. Laughable. 

The woman. Nothing mattered about her as long as she had a pussy, a nice ass, and big tits to cum on. Usually depicted as a dumb little thing who didn’t know how to turn a doorknob, albeit very pretty with a bubbly personality. Or a sex addict. Always wet and ready to go, wasn’t she? A nymphomaniac who was turned on to anything and everything that moved.

These videos were made to bust a quick nut to. In the age of freely available internet porn, why would there be a need for a narrative? Some of them looked so damn depressing—be it because of the backdrop, the fluorescent lighting, or the total lack of affection—that they made you wanna violently cry like you were watching an extremely tragic movie. You almost felt sorry for the people appearing in it no matter how voluntarily they were shooting these films.

“You’re so hot. I wanna fuck you.”

And he did. Why so exaggerated, though? Why was everyone always down to fuck? Why the ridiculously loud moans that almost never happened? How was everyone sopping wet and rock hard all the time? Why did everyone have double Ds and huge cocks? Why did they look perfectly curved and toned and tanned and hairless and silky smooth and not sweating at all doing an exhaustive cardio activity? Did it really have to be that fake? Couldn’t it mimic real life just a little bit?

At the end of the day, it was a show, of course. To each their own. But no one could blame you for being somewhat repulsed by these depictions, even as a very sex-positive person. No one could blame you for not being entertained by them at all when all you could think about was the jillion kinds of existential crises these clips induced.

I don’t look like that. I can’t arouse someone like that. It takes me forever to get turned on like that. I can’t cum hard like that. I can’t please like that. I’m not sexy enough. There is something wrong with me.

Was there, though? Or were there just impatient assholes who couldn’t be bothered with foreplay because that girl in Cum Fiesta 7 was drenched at the mere sight of a cock? If she was, why weren’t you?

Porn. 

It reminded you of processed meat, didn’t it?

Sex.

A different depiction appeared before your eyes this time, didn’t it?

The third date. Everybody knew what that meant. The night of the third date but with that person you really really liked, or even felt like you were falling for. They showed up at your door in a crisp suit, a flattering dress, or in whatever made it apparent that they cared about looking good for you. Their jaw dropped when they saw you. You went out for a nice dinner, maybe had a little too much wine. The entire time you thought about what was going to happen at the end of the night. You shared dessert. You shared small touches. You kept stripping each other with your eyes. When you finally returned to your door…

“You look so sexy. I really wanna fuck you.”

Boom. More or less the same line, but very different feeling, no?

It was as easy as that. In real life, there was more to sex than simple objectification. Then why not make the portrayal of it somewhat inspiring? Attitude-changing. Why not depict good sexual encounters that were pleasurable for all parties involved?

It didn’t necessarily have to be the ever-so-derided vanilla lovemaking that made people’s eyes roll. It could still be straight up fucking. Rough. Hard. But executed in such a way that simply watching it would make your toes curl. It would turn you on so bad that you would just have to touch yourself. It would be so sensual that you would be prompted to replicate that scene with your partner on your couch.

The lust. The passion. The intimacy. The raw emotion behind it all.

Those were what separated porn from an erotic film for you. The latter was a creative endeavor not everybody could pull off. Aesthetically pleasing. Interesting. Fresh. It had relatable stories. Common denominators. Gorgeous cinematography. It ensnared the senses. It was art to be appreciated.

Sex.

Carnal, but so beautiful to experience. Little secrets that were only uttered while wearing a mask. 

It reminded you of an amorous correspondence, didn’t it? 

You wanted to create things that you would want to watch because you chose to believe there were people like you among the eight billion souls haunting this planet. You knew for a fact that one such person was your college roommate-turned-best friend Ryujin, who had a computer science degree as well as an incredible knack for running a business. There was nobody else you would rather be partners with than her—thus the strawberry margarita-ridden ‘pitch dinner’ you took her to convince her to leave the software company she was working for. She listened to you geek out over this idea for about an hour with a straight face, and finally asked you:

“Let me get this straight. You legit wanna make a career out of satisfying the female gaze.”

“Yup.”

“So you’re gonna become a feminazi.”

“Fuck you very much, Ryu. This is what you got from what I said?”

Ryujin burst into a fit of laughter. You knew she was doing that to get on your nerves and had no actual malice behind her words, but she did have a point. If you were going to try to make it in this industry as one of the token females, you’d better get used to hearing such terms, even worse addresses, and learn to be numb to them.

“You already know I don’t doubt your creativity, sweetie, but there are already many studios out there,” she scanned you intently, “What’s your vision for this?”

You leaned into the table again with your newfound enthusiasm and continued.

“Imagine an anonymous platform where people send us their fantasies and confessions, and we'll make it come alive for them. Selectively of course. Like a visual anthology of short stories, you know?”

She was intrigued. No matter how much she was trying to keep a straight face, you could see it in her eyes.

“What are you gonna name it?”

You took a moment of silence for that metaphorical drumroll and lifted the curtain for the big reveal.

“Confessional Productions.”

“Like in the church.”

“Precisely.”

Ryujin squinted her eyes, and you braced yourself for another demoralizing comment like ‘You’re gonna offend people because they’re not going to get the metaphor,’ or something of the sort. Then again, was it truly possible to not offend anyone in 20–goddamn–23? 

Contrary to your expectations, her resting bitchface turned into a gigantic satisfied smile.

“I’m so fucking in,” she raised her glass for a toast, “To CP!”

And that was how your partnership was born. Ryujin left all the creative work to you and opted for taking on the operational responsibilities along with the platform design. 

Picturesque locations, sensual settings, exquisite hair and makeup, elegant wardrobe paired with people who knew how to pose and act equaled to high-quality glamour work. Unlike many of your contemporaries, you wrote intricate scripts that had fucking dialogue lines. When you and Ryujin released your first movie online for free, it took only about a month for it to get millions of downloads in addition to stellar audience reviews. Accompanied by a couple of trolls here and there of course, but Ryujin was regularly all over them. The prospect of you both making some serious money off of this company didn’t seem that far-fetched after all.

“We don’t do raunchy here, okay? If your partner doesn't cum, you're not getting paid.”

That was the first condition you disclosed to your potential performers. You didn’t work with objects; you worked with people. If you wanted your audience to watch fake orgasms, you wouldn’t have bothered with the cost and the added stress at all. Your work had to be authentic. Unique. Something worth doing for, maybe even rearranging the way some people perceived sex. That it was not a scary thing. That it could be a pleasurable thing. That it was one of the very basic needs of a human being. To love and be loved. To please and be pleased. To get high on euphoria.

“You don't have to be in love with the person, but I need to believe what I'm seeing. If you’re not into it, I’ll know.”

That wasn’t a lie. You knew the ins and outs of the industry. You knew the tricks. About the kegel exercises to help hold water inside to simulate squirting, for example, but nobody had to be that slick fake stuff. Sometimes it was apparent just from the way they moved. You had actually confronted one of your performers about it one time, stopping the shoot right in the middle of a sex scene.

“Was that a real orgasm?”

“You’ve just seen me cum, right?”

“I didn’t ask if you ejaculated, my guy. Did you or did you not climax?”

Unfortunately, you were aware that ejaculation and orgasm weren’t the same things. Who knew your previous scars could come in handy someday? When the actor didn’t respond to you, you experienced a momentary lapse of sanity.

“There is a reason why my studio exists, good sir. Nobody put a gun to your head to be here. How can I expect our audience to be affected by this when I don’t even believe what I’m seeing?” you threw a towel at him, “Refractory break. Either respect the art, or kindly fuck right off from my set and do not come back!”

You returned to your seat utterly annoyed and bitched to Ryujin with your hands thrown to the side.

“Who do I need to fucking blow around here so that I can find people that get me? Seriously.”

When Hyunjin heard the word wunderkind for the first time he was nine years old. According to his untainted pure vision, he was just playing with pastel crayons, but his art teacher almost had a heart attack when he noticed Hyunjin was able to replicate the postcard in front of him to a T, which was Van Gogh’s Starry Night. 

It started with mirroring at first, and the medium didn’t matter—oil paint, gouache, watercolor, charcoal… His end work looked like a technicolor photocopy of his references. Then he started changing some details here and there—played with sharpness of the lines, the blending of the colors, the palette itself, removed or added objects, recreated it from a different perspective. Eventually he was known as Hwang Hyunjin the art prodigy wherever he went, which was also how he landed his ass at the Applied Arts program at the top university of the country with full scholarship.

Hyunjin hadn’t considered what to do for a living while choosing this major; he just knew he wanted to do something related to his first love. As he kept progressing in his program, he realized there were very limited mainstream career opportunities related to art. The problem wasn’t the possibility of being unemployed—even in his sophomore year, he was approached by galleries, museums, and research centers to come work for them when he graduated, but he just wasn’t… excited about any of it.

Then came his senior year, and the film analysis class he took as an elective changed his entire life. Not because the content of the syllabus was earthshatteringly inspiring; it was actually quite the opposite of that. His professor had very strong opinions about everything, and seemed to be a little obsessed about connecting everything to her extreme disgust with the male gaze. 

We get it. Men are trash.

He almost risked failing that class with his outrageous comments just to piss his professor off, but he had such a way with words and was able to defend his arguments with such poise that it was impossible to refute him. When Hyunjin realized this particular person was going to be on his graduation committee, he was struck by this irresistible ‘inspiration’ to do his senior thesis as a comparative study on porn. Just to annoy her. For shits and giggles. And have a fucking blast doing it. Not because he had anything towards her personally, but because she was so fanatically narrow-minded that it was appalling how she was able to obtain the title of associate professor in the first place.

Hyujin was so focused on throwing this woman off her high horse that it caught him completely off guard when he encountered your work.

It was an accident. A serendipity, if you will. He was just collecting footage to show as illustrations of the male and the female gaze. When he typed in ‘porn for women’ as a broader search query, he came across the website for Confessional Productions. The whole catalog was behind a paywall, but the site offered one free ‘taster’ short movie. What caught Hyunjin’s attention at first was not the porn footage but a glowing neon button.

It said Confess.

When Hyunjin clicked on it, he was redirected to a page containing a digital notebook. You could either type in your own secrets or just read them. There were hundreds of anonymous confessions, displayed in a handwritten font to give it a more genuine feeling. The things people had done. The things they wish they had done when they had the chance. Missed opportunities. Long-awaited openings. The things they really wish they would be able to do, but couldn’t for so many reasons. Some of them were turned into actual movies, either feature-length, or as shorts. Very moved by a perfumer’s intense fantasies about some chef girl he fell in love with, Hyunjin followed the video link.

And he was fucking floored by what he saw.

Perfect aesthetics. Soft colors. A lo-fi track accompanying the entire ten-minute video. None of these people looked like they had enhancements done on them, cosmetically or otherwise. They looked so normal that Hyunjin felt like he could run into these people on the street rather than some porn convention. The sex didn’t even happen until the last three minutes, and it was the most passionate thing he had ever witnessed. Unadulterated passion between two people, the lust that unleashed itself after seven minutes of pining, being timid, lusting after the other person, just the sheer eroticism of it… He quickly scanned his memories to think of an encounter that was even remotely evocative of this, which just ended up being a bitter reminder of how touch-starved he was.

One movie after another. Then another. Then another. Hyunjin sat down in front of his screen until 4 in the morning, being out-of-his-mind fascinated, but he couldn’t stop there. He went on a deep dive about your entire background, watched interviews, read articles, reviewed your awards, the acclaims… By the time he saw the first lights of the daybreak outside his window, his mind was crawling with the idea of working with you at whatever cost because he was convinced that would be embodying and experiencing sheer art for a living.

What a woman… What a fucking incredible woman.

When his advisor wanted to meet him after his defense, the main agenda was Hyunjin’s plans after graduation. Her favorite student was overflowing with so much potential that she was looking forward to the bright future in front him more than he did.

“Have you thought about what you want to do?” 

“Yes,” Hyunjin responded with determination, “I’m gonna become an adult film performer.”

She actually asked that question so that she knew where to send Hyunjin’s recommendation letters to, but this was an answer that wouldn’t even appear in her wildest dreams.

Needless to say, Hyunjin’s unrelenting resolution frustrated the crap out of his advisor along with everybody around him. Nobody was able to comprehend why he would rather ‘waste his life’ by becoming a porn actor rather than taking literally any other dignified and prestigious job. Hyunjin just turned a deaf ear to every single attempt to make him change his mind and focused all his attention to getting in contact with you. He tried email, social media, professional networks, calling… While the most renowned museums would be thrilled at the news that Hwang Hyunjin the art prodigy was trying to land a meeting with them, he wasn’t even able to get through the assistant of a porn director because she was always so busy. Did it discourage him even a little bit, though? Absolutely not.

When he finally managed to find the address of Confessional Productions offices at some forgotten corner of the Internet, Hyunjin patted himself on the back for his great accomplishment.

“Looks like somebody has no choice but to meet me now.”

“Good morning,” you zoomed past Ryujin’s desk with a quick greeting and headed straight to your office. She would usually greet you back with two of her fingers on her forehead, but this time she decided to follow after you.

“It’s that guy again.”

There was this person who was adamantly demanding a portion of your time for god knows how long, and it was apparent he wasn’t going to let go until he scored a meeting with you for whatever reason. Was he after pitching an idea to you? Trying to sell you something? Who the fuck knew?

“Why is he this fucking obsessed? Oh my god,” you slammed your bag on your desk, “Tell him I'm busy.”

“I'M RIGHT HERE!!!”

Ryujin looked towards the open office area where the voice blared from. When you also followed the voice, you saw a man frantically waving at you behind the thick glass walls of your office. Tall. Blue hair. Exuded an extraordinary aura with a sense of urgency written all over his face. When he finally made eye contact with you, he smiled from ear to ear so brightly that your knees almost gave out.

Ha. Pretty. So… pretty. Pretty. Just… Yeah.

“Yeah, he's here,” Ryujin redundantly informed you, “I mean, would it really be the end of the world if you briefly see him and ask him what he wants?

“I HAVE NOWHERE ELSE TO BE! I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL I TALK TO YOU!!!”

Ridiculous beauty aside, you facepalmed yourself at how stubborn this guy was. If you agreed to meet with everyone that just barged into your sacred space of work, you would have no time to actually work. It was that audacity that annoyed the crap out of you as if you had nothing else to do than film people fucking like that one monstrosity of a review claimed.

“How the hell did he even find this address? It’s not cited on our website,” you plopped down on your chair extremely irritated, “He has nowhere else to be? He can sleep here then. I got work to do.”

You fired up your computer and began working on a storyboard for an upcoming project until way past lunchtime. You had said that as a sarcastic comment so that he would take the hint and leave, but when you finally looked up from your screen, you saw the blue-haired beauty sitting on the lounge area sofas, reading a magazine. He seemed like he legitimately had no intention of leaving even if it meant he had to actually sleep there. The only time you left your office that day was when you were about to head home, and as if his motor skills were connected to the sound of your door handle, he immediately got up when he saw you leaving.

“Please. Just half an hour of your ti—”

“Later,” you left the building with steps as quick as the ones you walked in. He just watched you walk away, acutely aware how much he was coming across as a stalker.

You didn’t give him the time of  day, but apparently he indeed had nowhere else to be. This man was basically camping in that lounge area because he was there every time you walked into the place, patiently waiting for an opening in your schedule rather than being aggressive about it for a change. Two days. Four days. Six days.

On the seventh day, you walked towards the couch he was sleeping on with an adult movie almanac open on his lap. You were the one coming across as a stalker this time because you couldn’t help watching him sleep for a little while. How his chest was softly rising and falling. How his lips were slightly parted. How annoyingly beautiful he was. The endeared smile on your face was completely involuntary.

“Psst, true blue,” you touched his shoulder to wake him up.

Hyunjin was startled to death when he saw you hovering over him and immediately jumped to his feet like responding to the commands of a drill sergeant.

“Come with me,” you said leisurely and started walking back to your office.

When he began following after you, still somewhat dazed, he knew he had to keep the fanboying to a minimum, but unfortunately for him, the voices in his head were telling him they ran out of self-control juice and that he was on his own this time.

“Fine, you wore me down,” you sat down on your chair, “Care to tell me who you are and what you want?”

Why the absolute fuck was that when we needed our wits the most, they left the building instantly? Hyunjin had dreamed about this moment for so long that he realized he didn’t really plan for the aftermath of it, not to mention he still wasn’t completely awake.

“Hyunj– Hwang. Hwang Hyunjin. My name…”

You raised your brows in mild amusement, “Are you always this eloquent?”

“Please excuse me,” he shook his head frantically, “I’m just incredibly starstruck right now.”

Starstruck? Who the hell were you to be starstruck over, though? It wasn’t like you were making blockbuster movies. You gestured to the guest chairs in front of your desk and asked him to sit down.

“How can I help you Hyunj Hwang Hwang Hyunjin?”

The attempt to calm his nerves seemed to have worked since it made him bashfully chuckle. Hyunjin turned on the resolution mode and declared very purposefully.

“I want to work with you and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

You looked at him all confused because this was the first time someone appeared in your office to become a part of your human resources. Granted, you never really published job ads for positions anywhere since you recruited people through your network only. The people who needed to know about the openings knew about them already, so why the heck didn’t this guy use the usual means?

“Did sending your headshots through your agent too much of a hassle for you?”

“I don’t have representation.”

“Do you at least have a reel I can watch?”

“Uh– No.”

Your confusion rapidly started to turn into irritation.

“Oh jesus fucking christ, you've never auditioned for anything before, have you?”

You had seen this before. People would walk up to you just because they thought fucking people on camera and cumming for a living sounded cool like they were getting paid for partying, which was immediate rage material for you. First of all, you didn’t run a brothel, you made goddamn movies. Second of all, their measurements weren’t how you cast people—just because they were good-looking did not guarantee a spot for them in your performer roster. You were looking for the manifestation of lust in their eyes. You wanted to see the passion in the rawest form possible. You wanted your audience to feel like they were the ones in the scene, so the ability to transfer emotion through the screen was of utmost importance to you.

“This is not the place for aspiring pornstars,” you coldly spoke.

“I’m an aspiring artist. I believe there’s a differe–” 

“You want to fuck people for a living? Try the stripclubs downtown,” you sternly uttered and channeled your attention to your monitor. Your tone was a lot harsher than you intended because you were tired of trying to explain your passion to people. The way you clenched your jaw was the indication for Hyunjin that he was doing a terrible job trying to convey his respect for your art.

“It’s– It’s not that!” he panicked, “I cannot even begin to tell you how much I'm in love with your artistry.”

“My artistry?” you scoffed, “What about it?”

Hyunjin was trying to find the correct words to express what he had been wanting to say all along, but words seemed to be eluding him. He took a deep breath and decided to rely on his instincts instead, hoping he was able to somehow communicate his admiration for you.

“Every time I watch a movie of yours, I feel the need. No matter how rough the scene gets, I feel the need to please. The passion. And I completely lose my shit over it. Don’t you think that’s a superpower you have over people?”

Well, that was most certainly a rationale you didn’t expect. Your expression may have softened, but you still had so many hesitations at the back of your head.

“While I’m flattered, I don’t see this happening.”

“But why not?!” Hyunjin loudly whined.

“I doubt you have what I need.”

“What do you need? Tell me.”

You heaved a deep sigh, very clearly getting tired of this conversation.

“First of all, I need you to understand,” you clasped your hands on your desk and leaned closer, “I don't do Girls Gone Wild. I don't do gay for pay. This is not some temp work to make some quick cash. I make movies. They do include graphic sex but only as a complementary device. These stories matter to me.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Hyunjin tilted his head like he was genuinely not following you. You rubbed your temples to calm down a little bit and continued.

“Second of all, I would have to be convinced you’re capable of losing yourself in the moment and not be crass about it. I need you to give me emotion. I’m not looking for the next Trent Hardwood or whatever.”

“Then let me prove it to you that I have what it takes.”

It got you thinking at that moment. There were literally around fifty porn producers in this city alone, and this guy could go to any of them. With those banger looks, he would have absolutely no problem landing bookings left and right, but why was he insisting on being a part of your crew?

“Let me ask you something,” you leaned back in your chair, “What’s your favorite movie of mine?”

“Charcoal Blues.”

Hearing that title definitely caught you by surprise. It wasn’t one of your more well-known works, not to mention it wasn’t even available on your website.

“Wow, you didn’t even hesitate,” you tried to hide your happiness under the disguise of astonishment, “Where did you see it?”

“I found a second-hand copy on Amazon.”

“What do you like about it so much?”

“It's the intimacy,” Hyunjin continued with a total lack of pause, “I devoted a large portion of my senior thesis to it.” 

Now that was an answer that you never thought you would be able to hear. It was so fucking hard to stop your jaw from dropping all the way to the floor. You made a mental note of finding that thesis and devouring the shit out of it because who the hell wouldn’t be intrigued by their work being a part of academic discourse?

What the actual fuck?!

“Then why don’t you film yourself with your partner?” you maintained a casual attitude like you weren’t interested the slightest bit, “I can’t keep dealing with people disrupting my shoots because they’re crying over their boyfriend fucking other people.”

“Wait, did– did that actually happen?” Hyunjin looked concerned. As much as you’d love to break into a ‘Haha, just kidding’, the facts were much different.

“Many times. That’s why I only work with single people not to risk it.”

“Then you don’t have to worry about that with me,” his voice was much more desperate by then, “Look, I'm not looking to be a pornstar. I want to be a part of what you’re doing instead.”

“What am I doing?”

Hyunjin responded with such conviction that you genuinely thought about asking him to record that sentence so that you could send it out as part of your PR package.

“You’re showing sex is the most unfiltered form of intimacy people can share.”

You weren’t able to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of your lips anymore.

“So you don’t think what I do is porn with plot?”

“No, this is visual art,” he replied adamantly.

“But I film people fucking on camera.”

“So what?” Hyunjin shrugged, “Just because they are fucking doesn't mean it has to be crude. Haven’t you ever fucked someone deeper in love?”

Yes, you had. Once. He was also the reason why you knew you could never experience that again because that only happened to a lucky few. Once in a lifetime. Deep inside you knew you were trying to replicate it through making movies, to take vicarious pleasure in other people’s passion. It sometimes made you question how pathetic you were being for doing that, but hey, as long as something beautiful came out of it…

Hwang Hyunjin. This guy really knew how to wear people down, didn't he?

“You really want this? Then prove it,” you challenged Hyunjin, “You may have the potential to be my kind of performer, but you have to convince me you’re ready.”

His eyes widened upon your answer, hope basically taking over his entire existence.

“Is that… Is that a yes?”

“It’s a maybe. I’m not making any promises,” you firmly declared, “You’ve got a lot to learn before you could become a performer. Don’t think your princely looks can do the work for you, true blue.”

Hyunjin looked like you just informed him you were appointing him as the CEO of your studio. You could have told him that he had to complete a bootcamp from hell for all he cared, which was sort of what you had in mind anyway, but anything that would let him transition from a prodigy to a protégé.

Your protégé.

«TO BE CONTINUED»

AUTHOR'S NOTE

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Fun fact: Charcoal Blues is an actual story I'm working on. Hope you look forward to that, as well.

If you enjoyed this story, feel free to share your thoughts with me in reblogs, tags, or in my inbox. As long as you're kind, that is.

-R. (CB97%)

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[clovrecs]

Ice

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader (fem)

Genre: romance, angst, fluff, smut; mafia!AU, strangers-to-lovers, 18+

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of blood; explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (seriously guys - don’t do what they do here, in terms of protection or consent), loss of virginity (graphic)

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! I’ve been gone for a really long time, I know - but I’m finally making my way back to this blog and to writing again. I have a few fics in the pipeline, but here’s my first new release! It’s a very different style/genre/length from what I’ve posted here before; it’s a bit darker in tone and less fluffy (all’s well that ends well though lol) - so feedback and thoughts are extra extra appreciated!

Summary: Sheer good looks aside though…you’d seen his face on the news. What was his name? You remembered that it was something elegant, soft on the lips - a name that didn’t seem to fit the cruel, hardened mafioso it belonged to. 

It was only when those cold icy eyes locked with yours, gaze chilling even from all the way across the bar, that it finally came to mind. 

Hwang Hyunjin. 

You looked pathetic, you supposed. 

Keep reading

[clovrecs]

marigold - hongjoong (m)

part of the frat boy series.

summary: annoying frat boy!hongjoong. your best friend and the bane of your existence is probably the love of your life, and you’re not sure how to tell him. your mutual friend seonghwa knows about your true feelings for hongjoong, and he does everything in his power to get you two together. one halloween party, one rainy car ride and one emotional rollercoaster later, you finally get a taste of what you’ve been waiting so long for. 

word count: 12.7k

warnings: smut!!!! protected sex. some alcohol use. afab reader, gendered pronouns. kinda unedited!

Keep reading

[clovrecs]

DAECHWITA: Chapter 2

« PREVIOUS CHAPTER · «SERIES MASTERLIST»

“Did you see anything?!” “No! I mean I kinda did, but THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT!” “OH MY FUCKING GOD, GET OUT!” He got out alright, but Chris didn’t realize that he also got out of his own body for a second there.

Chapter 2: Winter Solstice

📜10.3K words | Approx. 45-min. read 🚨Please see the series masterlist for general warnings: Brief mention of blood and injury, mirror paraphilia, themes of narcissism, themes of demisexualism, bondage (shibari), narratophilia, dacryphilia, use of sex toys, multiple orgasms/forced orgasm, breeding kink & lactation kink (as a form of roleplay), edging, overstimulation, cumplay, oral sex, creampie, masturbation, unprotected sex. 📻Accompanying soundtrack 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

Spent.

That was the feeling that made you close your eyes on Hyunjin’s bed that night rather than what could have been considered a heart-fluttering demand, something that a lot of people would no doubt kill for. You let your naked body be caressed to sleep by his soft breathing on your neck as well as the feathery fabric dressing his four-poster bed, lightly dancing with the night breeze filling the room through the open balcony door.

Came the first lights of daybreak, you snapped your eyes open out of habit and in slight panic, trying to comprehend where you were and who you were, and slithered back to your room trying your utmost best not to disturb a prince’s beauty sleep. It looked like he needed those to maintain that porcelain façade.

While you were taking a shower, you revisited what happened the night before in your mind. Was that even real? Did that really happen? Was it a byproduct of you being too awestruck to say no? Or was it your inhibitions being somewhat low? Why you? Why you when he could have his pick from literally anyone he laid his eyes on?

Maybe you were the closest thing he could lay his eyes on. Who knew…

You had always prided yourself on having discipline and your ability to mediate between your heart and brain. ‘Mind over matter’ after all. It was a prerequisite to survive in men’s world. It was how you disguised yourself as one of them. It was how they took you seriously and listened to what you had to say. Head held high. On your feet. Not off them.

Apparently, when you had a pair of sultry lips making its way down your spine, tarnishing the very same words you were living by and taking matter hostage, mind would peace the fuck out rather than pay the ransom.

You’re weak.

You just hoped the warm water would also wash away the sense of disappointment because you needed your wits intact for the day.

Due to your ties with The Dragon Pride, you were asked to assist the Military Studies department with their practice sessions on sword patterns as a guest. Thankfully, the clan master had the common courtesy to introduce you as an ‘affiliate’ rather than ‘The Grandmaster’s daughter’. 

As you were standing in front of a dojo full of people clad in unison attire, you could feel that all-familiar aura of disdain emitting from them. Some of them weren’t even trying to hide their condescending sneers. You were going to do a demonstration? You, a woman? Did you know how to carry a sword properly? Did you even possess the required stamina for this?

You tried your best to control that tired sigh bubbling inside of you.

Of course. All men. Somebody needs to teach you a literal lesson.

“This is going to be a doubles demonstration of first-degree sword patterns, so a partner is required. You, come forward.”

You turned around to grab your weapon from the eight-story sword holder behind you as whoever you were going to send into oblivion stepped into the metaphorical spotlight. When you returned to face this person, the surprise was so real that the words forced themselves out of you.

“Bathroom dude?”

“Hey,” he flashed a reassuring smile, immediately casting all your grudgy feelings to the side.

The clan master stood between you as you took your positions to salute each other. 

“Didn’t know they had an exchange program here,” you whispered while bowing. He responded while keeping your gaze during that 90-degree greeting.

“You’re aware I’m not a foreigner, right?” 

“Begin!”

You were instructed what the choreography of the day was going to entail beforehand, of course, so it was natural for you to know. But him? Wasn’t he supposed to be a student there? How come he matched every single one of your moves so perfectly? How come this turned into a dance performance all of a sudden? 

Mind over matter. Focus. Focus!

A literal battle of the sexes in front of a live audience, now unsure how this demonstration was going to end. It was escalating right before their eyes. Swishing sounds, high-pitched metal clinking making ears ring, aggressively enthused exclamations like this was a war scene, both performers getting drenched in sweat, and breaking the deafening silence of the spectators was your heartbeat thumping in your ears. It was for the briefest moment, but you could see it perfectly.

There was fire in his eyes.

Mind over matter. Water over fire.

You tightened your grip on the handle of the sword until your knuckles whitened and knocked his sword out of his hand. 

“Oooooh.”

As the demonstration came to an end, you both bowed to each other accompanied by the borderline aghast applause raising from the crowd. You also bowed to the dojo and the clan master, then left the room to make it in time for your next class. Obviously, you weren’t going to walk into the classroom all sweaty and disheveled like that, but you didn’t have enough time to go back to your room to fix yourself. After a mini internal debate with yourself, you decided that there was no harm in borrowing the showers next to the dojo since everyone else was going to be at practice for the next hour or so.

Sweet!

This had become your new Thursday routine. You naturally picked up somewhat of an assistant role for this class, and your ‘bathroom dude’ became your usual partner. While your on-the-job interactions with him were ‘Capulets versus Montagues’ status competitive, the times you observed the class together trying to hide your giggles, or helped people with their stances and techniques were much friendlier. It was impossible not to develop a liking for this guy considering how affable he was. After the months spent in this place, it looked like you finally managed to make your first friend, and it didn’t even matter that you only saw him within the confines of that dojo. He gave you a reason to look forward to coming to that class every Thursday.

Yes, you had always been more comfortable around guys anyway, but there was no winning with the male military studies students here. You could feel how they initially looked down on you, and when you fucked shit up in the dojo, this time they became scared of you. A handful of women that existed around you did not want to associate with you because for some reason they thought ‘you took yourself way too seriously.’ It would have been fine if you were assuming things due to paranoia, but you happened to have overheard it from their mouths at lunch one day.

Just WHY? We haven’t even talked ONCE.

But Chris was different. 

The guy just didn’t give a damn. He didn’t give a damn about who you were, what you were, where you were from, and whether you worshipped cats or not. For him, it was all about being on a similar wavelength with someone, stripped of whatever judgement that could come between two people. Just a walking bubble of safe space allowing you to be unashamedly yourself, to blurt out whatever was in your mind without the constant dread of getting misunderstood.

Even though borrowed moments from a class weren’t really the time to get to know somebody, you felt like it was exactly what you were doing. Getting way too personal by being too impersonal with each other.

Just like a chilly night on a rooftop somewhere.

A drop of blood stained the blade during the briefest moment of distraction and the sound of the sword hitting the hardwood surface rippled throughout the large hall.

“DAMMIT!”

Chris thought the person standing in the corner of the room was his usual partner walking back inside when in fact it was just some random person. The first rule of the arts of Mars: you do not take your eyes off your opponent. Ever. But he did. 

Now he had to face the consequences.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Go clean that up. Go!”

He pressed his thumb on his palm in an attempt to stop it from bleeding and rushed to the common bathrooms nextdoor. He was used to this place being rowdy as hell right after practice; certainly not to the almost serene atmosphere courtesy of the sun rays peeking through the stained glass windows, creating kaleidoscopic fractals in various colors on the marble floors. Then he noticed the silence getting denser. Like somebody stopped the water from running.

“Hello?”

“JESUS F–”

You, on the other hand, were not used to anybody else around when you were taking your post-practice showers in peace. You shrieked so hard that the towel wrapped around your body dropped when you pulled your hands away to cover your mouth.

“SHIT! Sorry! I’m so sorry!”

“WHAT THE FUCK CHRIS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

What was he doing there? There was a reason. A reason that was on the tip of his tongue, currently dripping down his palm, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what it was.

“Did you see anything?!”

“No! I mean I kinda did, but that's not important!”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, GET OUT!”

He got out alright, but Chris didn’t realize that he also got out of his own body for a second there.

He hadn’t really looked at you that way before. He had to suppress it. You were supposed to be ‘just friends’ for obvious reasons, but he was painfully reminded of what a strikingly beautiful woman you were that day, quite literally stripped of all the layers that had been hiding you from his eyes all this time.

And much to his dismay, something awakened in him from that day on, and simply refused to go back to sleep.

Chris forced himself so hard to erase your sight from his mind because that would be plain disrespectful to you to have you star in his fantasies. He tried so hard, but every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was you. You were just there, the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his life by far, and it was getting more difficult to be around you with each passing day.

Then one night in his room, he caught himself trying to find excuses to cave.

He was supposed to be abstaining, yes, but there was no rule set in stone anywhere that was forbidding him from touching himself in the privacy of his bed, right? And what if… the images behind his eyelids… included you? Depicting anything and everything he would love to do to you. 

What would it be like if it was you feeling him instead of his own firm grip?

“Oh, god…”

He lost.

He was completely possessed by his demons of lust haunting him for the longest time, finally freeing him of the shackles bruising his flesh for years. Chris was a human being after all; of course he would masturbate every now and then, but only to the make-believe images of strangers that he didn’t even know, borderline a clinical act for pipeline maintenance. Yet that night, when he kept touching himself to the thought of you until he made an absolute mess on his perfectly sculpted torso, he realized that he fucking loved that feeling. A little too much for his own good. Chest heaving as if it was you who rode him to his orgasm. As if you told him to cum for you.

Would you like it? Would it turn you on seeing what you do to him? Would it turn you on seeing how much you turn him on?

You. The one who just got him. The only person he was able to click with after what seemed like forever.

This was his senior prom all over again.

It was so hard to explain this connection to someone who never felt it. There was no way he could prove it, but Chris could almost swear you were feeling something similar, if not the same thing about him. Words could lie, but not the eyes. Not the smiles.

And he was resolute not to have it ruined by anybody this time around. He leaped off his bed, took a shower, and made his way to his destination with firm steps.

“Mother, I need to talk to you.”

“If it isn’t my handsome prince!” Hyejin looked up from the book she was reading at her study, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ll get straight to the point. I know what happens on the night of adult ceremonies. Please do not arrange what I think you will.”

“What am I going to arrange?” his mother cheekily smiled while putting her book down. Chris looked somewhat flustered.

“Please don’t make me say it out loud,” he cleared his throat and exerted a humongous amount of effort to look straight into her eyes, “I’m aware of the tradition of becoming a man sponsored by the royal concubines.”

Hyejin furrowed her burrows in what could only be described as confusion. She got up to her feet and walked towards her son, analyzing his face while approaching him.

“This will be the one day you'll get to indulge in anything you want. Why would you willingly refuse that?”

Chris felt his throat getting way too dry. He wanted to say that he didn’t wish to spend a night with some random stranger and that contrary to his mother’s assumptions this actually held significant meaning to him. He took his sweet time trying to find the most persuasive words to convey just that, but Hyejin was of course able to catch up with the subtitles of her son’s thoughts. She gently held his chin and asked out of genuine curiosity.

“Is there someone in particular you want, Christopher?”

He could try denying it all he wanted, but sometimes Chris was forgetting how he was completely unable to hide his true feelings due to how hard he blushed every time he lied his ass off.

“No, mother.”

It had been quiet on your floor for some time, causing you to wonder whether the prince didn’t feel the need for cathartic moments anymore, which was actually none of your business. You would never admit this out loud, but there was this one time you even tiptoed your way to his door to confirm whether he was with someone and they were just keeping it quiet like you asked him to, but you didn’t hear anything. You were legitimately alone in that corridor. 

And it prompted you to lose sleep for some reason.

You didn’t know why that phenomenon started exactly. It could very well be the acute awareness of being all by yourself in that entire building, not that anything would happen to you in the first place. It could be the uninvited sorrow caused by solitude finally kicking in.

Or worse, it could be a symptom of withdrawal.

Laying on your bed, you placed your arm on your forehead and looked at the ceiling blankly. It was just one night, definitely not grounds for establishing a habit, but it terrified you that you may have contracted lust from Hyunjin. You realized that even in that small amount of time you spent together, you were able to discover parts of yourself with him, parts of you that you didn’t know were there. For so long, you had believed that sex was supposed to be something shared between two people desperately in love with each other, and only then one could be unapologetically themselves saying and doing unspeakable things to someone with absolutely no shame to satisfy their carnal urges. It was a manifestation of love. It couldn’t have been something easily disposable because then everything you held true would lose its meaning. 

Then did that mean you were harboring some feelings for him? Or did you just happen to like the way he made you feel? When did the physical stop and the emotional start? Did that night mean anything to him? Did it mean anything to you?

For fuck’s sake…

You kicked your blanket off of you and got up to get some fresh air downstairs, maybe talk to the koi fish in the pond to get some answers. When you harshly slid your door open, the words reflexively fell out of your lips upon what manifested before your eyes.

“Y-Your grace.”

“It’s Hyunjin for you, princess,” he leaned against the door frame leisurely and raised one of his brows, “It’s a little offensive you'd forget about your lover so soon.”

Your what?

“You uh- Why are you here?”

“Because I have no self-control.”

That total lack of pause between your question and his answer… It hadn’t even been sixty seconds since that exchange started. Talk about cutting to the chase…

“It’s late. Why aren’t you asleep?”

“How do you know I wasn’t?”

“Your bedside light was on,” Hyunjin pointed at the source of the dim orange light filling your room, “It seeps into the corridor from under your door.”

Fine, maybe he got you, but more importantly, how long was he standing there?

“I uh– I have trouble sleeping,” you managed to respond while trying to put your wits back into their place, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

Instead of answering your question, Hyunjin came forward with a proposal as indecent as it could ever get while brushing your hair behind your ear.

“I can fuck you to sleep if I’m allowed to. Just ask.”

Mind over matter, my ass. You would bet good money that it was simply impossible for any sane human being not to slightly lose it every time he opened his mouth. 

Who the fuck talks like that?

“Ever since we shared a secret together I can’t help the urge, you know,” his eyes darted to your lips while discreetly licking his own, “You don’t wanna know how many times I thought about you since then. It’s concerning, really.”

How would you even respond to that? ‘Yeah, I also checked up on you a few times to see if you were fucking someone else’?

“I have something I wanna show you. May I invite you to my room tonight?”

His hand reaching out to you again… You remembered that gesture. Although he was being all courteous, the matter of the fact was he was telling you to come with him. With a sleeping problem and no obligations for the day after, who were you to refuse? Maybe he could fuck you to sleep after all.

Wait, what?

When you walked into his room with that all-familiar vanilla fragrance permeating every inch of it, you saw a full-length mirror that wasn’t there before. Ordinarily, it shouldn’t even have been a topic of conversation. So what if he wanted to see what he looked like when he changed? Didn’t everybody have one of those?

“Do you want to guess why I got this installed?”

Well, when somebody asked you like that, it couldn’t have possibly been about ‘let me see what I look like’ considerations anymore, could it? Especially when the said mirror stood tall in front of a goddamn bed.

It had to involve somebody else.

“Do you like watching yourself?”

Your question didn’t exactly address him admiring himself all alone. Hyunjin kept your gaze in the mirror and smiled.

“There is nothing I like watching more.”

It felt like if you made direct eye contact with him, you would get electrocuted to death. You watched him approach you in the mirror instead; how he wrapped his large hands around your waist, how he closed his eyes, and how he breathily whispered into your right ear to cause goosebumps to break all over your body.

“Except you, beautiful.”

The way Hyunjin kept breathing into your ear while sliding your robe off your shoulders caused a ticklish feeling to spread from your neck down to your right shoulder blade, and it eventually dripped between your legs. He untied the belt of his own robe with the slowest movements possible, just to put his torso on display true to the nature of the tease he was. He kept walking backwards to his bed with hands on your body flush against his, hooded eyes fixated on yours in the mirror all the while, and once he sat down on the edge of his bed, legs spread wide like a bespoke throne for you, Hyunjin guided you to sink down on his lap.

“Eyes on me.”

You couldn’t peel your eyes off the mirror even if you wanted to. He slithered his right hand between your legs and started caressing your inner thighs while placing open mouth kisses on your shoulders. Those wet sounds his lips made were the perfect music to make love to, instantly inducing a buzzing sensation on your clit. His fingertips felt like tiny electric feathers on your skin, so smooth and warm, but sending tiny jolts every time he dragged them on you. One thing still held true: at that moment he was loving you. He was loving you in the most obscene way possible.

“Watch us, princess. Watch how fucking good we look.”

Hyunjin slid the straps of our nightgown off your shoulders to fully expose your upper body for himself, letting out a little content sigh like this was the first time he was seeing you naked. His left hand found its way to your breast, middle finger delicately brushing against your nipple to get it harder, and he sneaked his right hand into your underwear to start playing with your clit. You involuntarily threw your head back at the sensation and rested your head at the crook of his neck while Hyunjin kept leaving exploratory kisses on yours.

“You’re driving me crazy. Fucking crazy.”

How curious. For so long, you had believed that sexiness came from how a person turned primitively raw during the act, a state of total surrender to instincts that barely had room for any conscious thought. It was a manifestation of human nature, our most basic needs. It couldn’t have been anything less than fucking someone into oblivion with all you got because then…

Then what?

“I have a favor to ask,” Hyunjin made you face him and pulled you back from the stream of consciousness you were about to drown yourself in, “You do trust me, don’t you? You do know I only want to make you feel good?”

It felt like waking up from a dream. How this man managed to make you question your entire existence by making you stop thinking was beyond you. You didn’t give a direct answer to his rhetorical question.

“And?”

“Can we try something tonight?”

“Depends,” you ran your fingers through his hair, “What did you have it mind?”

Hyunjin closed his eyes and leaned into the feeling of your touch for some time while heaving a deep sigh. The words that came out of his mouth didn’t belong to the velvety feelings you had exchanged just a second ago.

“I want to tie you up.”

Of course. You were wondering what bombshell he was going to drop that night because compared to your previous encounter with him mirror sex would just be too tame.

“As in you want to restrain me.”

“Yes, but I don’t enjoy the pedestrian way. I like the aesthetic that comes with it,” Hyunjin brushed his fingers on your left ear and watched them slowly slide towards your neck, “Of course, I won't tie it too tight or too complex since this is our first time.”

This is our first time.

This is our first time.

This is our first time.

You weren’t sure whether he uttered this sentence in full awareness of what each word entailed because it harbored a billion hidden meanings behind it as well as too many presumptions. Then again, it could very well be just you overanalyzing things and reading too much into it. But what if…

What if he was consciously doing it?

Hyunjin signaled you to get up so that he could head to his notorious drawer to pull something out of it, and sat right next to you again. He was holding a bundle of crimson rope in his palm, the thickness of which was about the size of a finger. 

“Feel it. It’s silk, so it won’t give you any burns,” he uttered like he was trying to persuade you to purchase it from him. You dragged your finger on the material to do as he said, and it indeed didn’t have the usual coarse and itchy feeling—this looked more like a miniature version of manila ropes.

“I wanna tie beautiful knots on your body and admire you. Will you let me?”

Will you?

A part of you actually wanted to say no, not because you weren’t intrigued by the idea but just to see how he handled rejection. Then again, he didn’t outright lure you into it this time by getting you sloppy drunk on desire first. He asked. He asked for your permission and the expectation written all over his face made the urge to mess with his head all the more appealing.

Since when were you minoring in mind games?

Hyunjin couldn’t help the sharp exhale indicative of his enthusiasm when you nodded.

“Come,” he extended his hand to you like he did every time he wanted to preface what was about to happen, “Grace my bed again, beautiful.”

Hyunjin made you sit on your knees in the middle of his bed, paying plenty of attention to every inch of your skin as he stripped you bare, and started delicately tying knots on your body. His movements were as unrushed as always like he was just indulging in some pastime activity to get his mind off of things. After a while, you could see a picture emerging on you: simple but still exquisite zigzags of crimson-colored rope wrapped around you, corners of which were joined by intricate knots that would definitely require skill to tie. If you stitched some fabric in between those ropes creating a fishnet pattern, it would have actually made a pretty decent-looking dress.

“Lie down, princess,” Hyunjin pecked your lips and gently pushed you back to bed, then proceeded to tie your arms and legs to his bedposts, rendering you unable to move.

“Address me as ‘your grace’ if you get uncomfortable.” 

“I thought you forbade me from calling you that,” you sarcastically chuckled.

“I did,” he responded immediately, “That’s why this is how I’ll know you want me to stop.”

When he was finally done, Hyunjin took your sight in with a total look of admiration on his face as if he was looking at a guarded painting at some famous museum.

“I wish you could see how pretty you are with these knots, princess. You’re a fucking work of art.”

Whether he was praising you or himself was up for debate, of course. You jerked your wrists and ankles to see whether he left any room for you to move at all, but no dice.

“Can’t move, can you?” he let out a small chuckle and descended between your legs, “Now we’re gonna see how much you can take.”

Hyunjin’s breath felt like a warm velvet cover on your folds, prompting you to heave a content sigh at the sensation. Then he started giving you the most excruciatingly languid kitten licks on your clit with just the tip of his tongue. Nowhere near enough friction. No proper wetness. No touching anywhere else. 

It was like the gentle introductory melodies to a complex composition at first. Just him, at his customary pace, taking his sweet time with you. The feeling spreading throughout your body from your core was nothing but pleasant, welcome even. 

Then it started devolving into something else.

It was endurable at first, but the more Hyunjin kept his ministrations steady, the more you craved something more intense to induce an orgasm. Heck, it was fine if you didn’t cum—even the slightest change of speed or more pressure from his tongue was going to satisfy that itch for something more. You were getting uncomfortable not because of the physical restraints put around you, but because there was absolutely nothing you could do to interfere, to catalyze your climax. You could see the land on the horizon, but the distance between where you were and your destination seemed impossible to close.

Hyunjin was straight up torturing you, and what was worse, he knew he was torturing you. You tried to move again to entirely no avail.

“Is there a problem?”

“Just… More.”

“Tsk. Why would you want to give up this sensation, princess?” he feigned the fakest innocence worthy of the corniest acting award, “Doesn’t the prelude to your orgasm feel better than the real thing?”

“It does! I just– I just need…”

“Hm? You need to cum?”

You let out a groan. It was so obvious he wanted you to say it out loud, which made you question why you thought it was a good idea to hand him the literal ropes. Your response was almost inaudible.

“Once.”

“No.”

“Please. Just once.”

“Doesn’t suit you to beg like this,” Hyunjin tutted to himself, eyes still glued to your pussy, “Doesn’t suit my princess at all.”

“Then stop making me!!!”

Fucking demon. He knew what he was doing and he was taking excessive pleasure in pleasuring you with no destination in sight. You tried to get closer to his face, but you couldn't. You tried to push him towards you but you couldn't.

You couldn’t move an inch.

“Look at you. Clit so swollen, just begs for my attention. Begs to be licked all over,” Hyunjin pressed his thumb right above your clit and dragged it upwards, “You’re doing it on purpose to make me go insane. You're asking to be teased.”

On purpose? With all due respect, which was none, how would you even be able to do that on purpose? You were pretty sure this prince of the underworld was not up to the standards of ‘sane’ as it was, but then again, you were cursing at yourself many mouthfuls for being this enticed by that very fact. 

“Once. PLEASE!”

The massive frustration you were feeling began to mutate into irritation, and the inadvertent whimper you let out because of that made Hyunjin…

Smile.

“But I can never say no to you if you keep making those pretty sounds for me like that.”

You wanted to slap yourself for looking this weak in front of him, but then again, what was logic when you were a slave to your urges?

“Say it. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

God, this man… He knew exactly what you wanted him to do to you. Why the ceremonial proceedings?

“I jus– I need to cum.”

“Do you need to cum or do you need me to make you cum?”

“What's the difference?”

“Say it.”

Hyunjin was very clearly luxuriating in being able to drag you to hell and back. Your entire body was on fire for several reasons, and your exasperation reached such a height that you were on the brink of crying.

“I need you. I need you to make me cum.”

“How, princess?”

“Something. Anything!!!”

“But we both know it's not anything, don't we?” he teased with that diabolical smile of his, briefly blurring the lines between human and succubus forms, “Say it or I'm not gonna do it.”

“Please.”

“Say it. In excruciating detail.”

“God this is so fucking embarrassing!” 

“Do it, princess.”

You harshly pulled your wrists towards yourself as though the ropes were going to magically untie. You could feel the tears prickling your eyes out of pure frustration, but Hyunjin wasn’t even fazed by the meltdown you were having.

“Lick me until I cum in your mouth.”

“But that's not excruciating detail, is it?” he placed a borderline chaste kiss on your pussy, “It's okay. I'll model it for you.”

He made his way up to bring his impeccably alluring face as close to yours as possible and started speaking in a voice so tantalizing and commanding that if he kept speaking to you in that deep tone long enough you would cum untouched.

“I want to get you so drenched for me that I want you to soak through my bed sheets all the way into my mattress. I want this entire room to smell like you for days. I want to make you cum so fucking hard that I want to ruin everybody else for you, and I want you to scream my name over and over again when you do.”

He didn’t do anything else than just talk, yet there you were panting under him and oozing so much that the first item of his checklist was about to be accomplished.

“You do it now.”

Hyunjin kissed your lips and went back to his original position as you swallowed the last drop of your pride. If you closed your eyes and not faced him, maybe it wouldn’t have to be so embarrassing.

“I want you to suck on my clit while teasing it with your tongue. I want to hear nothing but the wet sounds you make for me. Right when I'm about to cum, I want you to moan against my pussy so loudly that I want to explode on your pretty fucking face. There, happy?!!”

He was. It was flashing on his face like giant neon lights on a dark night.

“Do you like cumming in my mouth?”

“I do.”

“Do you like it, or do you love it?”

“I fucking love it.”

“And I love it when you start cursing, beautiful. You’re very riled up now, aren’t you?” he contently grinned between your legs, “Does it feel better than me fucking you?”

“It’s– They– They are different things.”

“Do you touch yourself to it, too?”

Too. Even in a compromising situation like this, he somehow managed to make you contemplate the semantic intentions behind his words. Did that actually mean–?

“I touch myself to the thought of going down on you a lot,” he gently kissed your clit upon your silence, “Makes me cum so much. Your taste is out of this world.”

Hyunjin peppered kisses all over your crotch and inner thighs as you kept trying to break free of your restraints in vain and finally signaled the segue into the crescendo segment of this theme song to hell.

“Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Yes! Yes, please.”

“Say it.”

“I want you— I want—  make me—”

“Louder. Properly.”

The scream that ripped from your throat came so deep from your diaphragm that it felt like somebody was pressing hot iron on your skin.

“FUCKING DO IT ALREADY!!!”

And the smile on Hyunjin’s lips that harbored nothing other than manuscripts filled with sins right at the moment you lost it for good… It was way more wicked than his beauty. 

“With pleasure.”

He closed his eyes, wrapped his hands around your thighs, and trapped your clit between his lips just like you asked him to, gliding his tongue all over it and producing all kinds of lewd sounds due to how sloppily he ate you out. You were so on the edge already that it wasn’t going to take you maybe thirty seconds to cross that finish line. When your legs started shaking around him, Hyunjin took it as his cue to increase the decibel of his moans.

“Remember,” he spoke against your folds with his eyes shut, “My name. Scream it.”

Then he started lapping at your clit so fast with such loud moans that even if you wanted to contain your screams inside, there was no way you’d be able to do that. You came so hard, and if you weren’t pinned to your place, you would be violently thrashing on his bed. Ever the generous pleaser, Hyunjin finally caved and gave you what you quite literally begged for.

But why on earth did you even consider he would let you be once you got what you wanted?

“No, stop. STOP!”

“But I won't,” Hyunjin spoke against your folds quivering from sensitivity, “You kept asking for this. Now you’re gonna sit there and feed me until I'm full.”

He kept gliding his tongue all over your clit with his eyes closed accompanied by his content hums and sheer appetite like he was starved to death for weeks. Although it still felt really good, it was just too much to endure. The urge bubbling inside you not too long ago due to frustration came back again at full force, but this time you didn’t try to suppress it and let your tears fall.

“Hyunjin, please!”

“When are you gonna realize I eat this pussy for my own pleasure?” he dragged a long stripe from your entrance up to your clit, “I told you I have no self-control, didn't I? Nobody told you to be this fucking seductive and entice me. This is your fault.”

Mind over matter? Yeah, right. Although there were tears falling from your face, you also had this urge to hysterically laugh at it. Meanwhile, Hyunjin was just in his own world between your legs, pleasuring himself by excessively pleasuring you.

“God, yes, just melt on my tongue,” he chuckled against your skin, “Fucking love it when you’re this sensitive because of me.”

Although Hyunjin refused to stop by any means, his ministrations got a little gentler to allow you to endure the feeling, and he began alternating between his targets rather than solely focusing on your clit. Kisses on your labia, licks into your entrance, slurps on your juices. You had no choice but to cum again.

“Just like that. Keep cumming in my mouth, I know you got it in you,” he placed soothing kisses on your soaked thighs, “And I’m gonna drag every single one of those orgasms out of you. No matter how long it takes.”

Hyunjin paused the extravagant attention he was giving you, and allowed a brief refractory period for you to breathe. While you were trying to remember what year it was, he reached for his drawer and picked out several toys carefully as if he was trying to decide what to wear that night, eventually settling on a clear dildo.

“No matter what the means are,” he flashed a perverse vermillion smile while settling between your thighs again, “Let’s go one more time, beautiful.”

By then, you were so drenched that when Hyunjin slowly pushed the toy inside, the lewd squelch it made was clearly audible. The curvature of the dildo was reaching just the right spot inside you, and that change of sensation was more than welcome, letting your sore clit recuperate for a while. If Hyunjin asked you right then whether this felt better than him eating you out, you would definitely say yes. Nevertheless, after what he deemed was an appropriate amount of time passed, his obsession, or fixation for that matter, prevailed and he lowered himself between your legs again.

“You know I just can’t leave you alone, beautiful.”

You were writhing under him as he kept fucking you while eating you out, eventually inducing a third orgasm in you. You were in no state to think what he would finally consider enough, and although the tears kept streaming down your face, much to your surprise, you realized how much you loved this twisted alloy of pleasure and pain.

“More. Cum for me more,” Hyunjin slurped on your clit, “Give me everything. All of you.”

He gently pulled the dildo out of you and picked up another assault weapon to serve his ulterior motives. From the looks of it, it was a vibrator with a clitoral stimulator attached to it.

“If I could, I would lick the most sensitive spots inside you myself,” Hyunjin declared while opening a bottle of lube, “but since I’m not able to…”

Although you were soaking wet, he still coated the toy in an ample amount of lube for good measure, and slid it inside you until the tip of the vibrator made contact with the end of your walls. He aligned the exterior stimulator against your clit and when he pressed on, you jolted due to the intense feeling even though it was at the lowest frequency.

“Feels great, doesn't it? Like I'm actually licking you there, too.”

Hyunjin kept watching your face with his lips parted, heavily breathing and nodding to the rhythm of your moans. You didn’t know what was more arousing; the way he was this turned on untouched simply by making an absolute mess out of you, face getting more contorted the louder you moaned, or the sheer physical ministrations drowning your body. You were loudly crying by the time he made you cum for the fourth time consecutively.

“So beautiful. God, so, so, so beautiful,” he kept admiring your throbbing pussy, “Look at you. Fucking look at you.”

You were so disoriented by then you had no idea for how long you were at this. Hyunjin pulled the toy out of you and climbed on top of you to let you properly come down this time.

“You’re so damn pretty when you cry out of pleasure. You fucking mess me up,” he hissed with a frowned face and began drowning your face in soothing kisses, “I know you’re very sensitive right now.”

No. Sensitive wasn't the right word. It was not even remotely related to what he put you through, let alone covering the meaning of what ‘sensitive’ actually was. He wiped the tears off your face with his thumb and looked straight into your eyes.

“Do you want me?”

If the question was ‘Do you desire me?’, it would have been fine. There was nothing more erotic than his mere presence, nobody sexier dead or alive, but your response was loaded with an inevitable doom either way. If you said no, you risked stopping this insanity of ecstasy for good and you weren't sure whether you were ready to let that go yet, not to mention that would be the biggest lie you had ever told. If you said yes, on the other hand, he was for sure going to make you sob. Uncontrollably.

You nodded nevertheless.

“Then let’s fuck, beautiful. You’re just the right amount of wet for me,” Hyunjin took your lips between his and kissed you for what seemed like an eternity, “You’re about to feel something you’ve never felt before. I promise.”

‘Just the right amount’ meaning your inner thighs were drenched in your own cum. He pulled out a dagger from his drawer and cut the ropes to finally free you of your captivity. When Hyunjin undressed himself and got on his knees, you noticed just how much he was leaking. Pure salivation material.

“You’re- You’re not gonna use protection?”

“No,” Hyunjin declared with a firm voice, “I’m gonna fuck you raw tonight. I need direct contact with your skin, and if an accident happens, so be it.”

You clenched. He glanced down at the way you were throbbing and darted his eyes up at you again, slightly suspicious of whether what he was assuming was true or not.

“Don’t mind if I have my way with you when you’re carrying my child.”

You clenched again, immediately prompting a devilish smile to spill on his lips as he came closer to you.

“You don’t mind either, do you? You don’t mind me quenching my thirst from these pretty nipples? I hear they’re supposed to grow when you’re pregnant,” he brushed his fingers against your breasts and softly whispered, “I hear you’re supposed to be extra sensitive. Just imagine the heights I can take you to. It’s gonna be fucking unreal.”

Gonna be. Like he was actually about to do it. 

Hyunjin finally aligned himself with your entrance and even though he just pushed the tip in, he noticed how comfortably he could slide in with one easy move.

“GOD, you’re so fucking wet. Gonna make me blow just a few pumps in.”

The real thing. Nothing could compare to the real thing. Nothing could compare to the unmatched body control Hyunjin had, knowing exactly how to move inside you, how to give you that feeling of fullness, just how to drive you fucking crazy.

“Feel me throbbing inside you?”

“Yes, I do. I do!” you responded with what came out as a desperate moan.

“I fucking love it when you react to me like that.”

Hyunjin buried himself into you to the hilt and picked up his pace, absolutely loving the way he was disappearing into you so easily.

“Look how well you take it, my fucking god,” he sank his fingertips into your legs, “You take it so well. You take it exactly like you should.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have liked the feeling of claim this much, but then again, everything you thought was true about the acts of passion went out the window the second you let Hyunjin touch you. He was doing it again. He was making you question so many things in the most gratifying way possible, and it was going to feel this good every time, you would rather slap yourself than complain about it. You started clenching around him.

“Ah, just like that. Force it out of me now. Force me.”

“Closer,” you grabbed his waist and pulled his body towards you, “Tell me how good it feels.”

“So good. So fucking good. FUCK!” Hyunjin kept ramming himself into you with shortened breath, “You’re the sexiest fucking thing to ever exist, beautiful.”

You held his sweat-covered face between your hands and locked your eyes with Hyunjin’s darkened gaze, down so bad with how overwhelmed he was by desire.

“You do know I deserve that load, right?”

“Yes.”

“You’re gonna fill me up or what?”

“Yes. Oh, god, YES!” Hyunjin pressed his forehead against yours, “With a pussy this pretty, how could I not fill you up? Never wanna pull out of you again. Ever.”

His rhythm reached a dangerous point courtesy of how much you managed to turn him on with your mere words, threatening to drill you into that mattress. You held onto his shoulders like you were trying to hold on to dear life.

“Just– Harder– God!”

“Of course you deserve it, beautiful. You fucking deserve to be creampied by your prince.”

“Hyunjin…”

It was reflexive. Even if you wanted to form a full sentence with verbs and everything, he was fucking your wits out of you, so the only word you could remember was his name. When it came out as a sultry moan like that, it cracked a whip on Hyunjin’s back at full force.

“Look at me, princess. Don’t take your eyes off of me,” he pierced two holes into your soul with labored breathing, “Say it again. Make me cum to your pretty face.”

“Hyunjin.”

“Again.”

“Hyunjin.”

“Again!”

“Hyunjin!”

“SCREAM IT!”

“HYUNJIN!”

This was a brand-new sight, but damn was it still a strikingly jaw-dropping one. His eyes squeezed shut, letting out animalistic groans like he was gasping for air while shooting his entire load in your deepest corners, just riding out his orgasm like he was in a trance, mumbling things to himself with every thrust in an utterly fucked-out voice.

“God… Yes… Yes… Where it belongs… Fuck… Fuck!!!”

It was his turn to be dragged through hell for a change. The second a drop of sanity spread through your synapses, you wrapped your legs around his waist and started clenching with all your might.

“S-stop. Stop milking me, I’m gonna get hard again!”

You inadvertently laughed at giving him a taste of his own medicine. Granted, this was nothing compared to what he put you through, but it was still nice to know what you were able to do to him if the fancy ever struck.

“What’s so funny? You like the idea of getting me hard again?” Hyunjin wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Your response came out mixed with a yawn.

“Maybe I do.”

“You do, huh? Maybe I like the idea of getting you wet again,” Hyunjin reciprocated the smirk on your face far from translating into affection, “but I’ll clean you up first.”

Your eyelids felt so heavy that you weren’t gonna be able to keep them open for much longer, yet you snapped them open and jolted in your place when you felt Hyunjin’s tongue at your entrance.

“Hyunj–”

“Shh, I’m just cleaning you up,” he grabbed your wrists to prevent you from stopping him, “I should have done this long ago. Did you know you taste even better with my flavor?” 

You let yourself fall back to the bed again as Hyunjin kept eating his own cum out of you. You were way too spent to even resist him at that point.

“Feel free to fall asleep, princess,” he kissed your thighs for the billionth time that night, “Just know that I’ll fuck you awake a couple of times until the morning.”

“Her excellency is expecting you at her chambers this evening after dinner time.”

Sometimes no matter how much you wanted to say ‘Bro, what?’ to a guard, you just had to swallow it. What could she possibly have to discuss with y—

Wait a second.

It was true that you lost all sense of logic while getting drunk on Hyunjin on quiet nights, but one fact still remained intact: her majesty was not supposed to know about her son’s dirty little secrets. Was that what she wanted to talk to you about because if so, you were – in the very literal sense of the word – royally fucked.

For your first visit to the main residence, you were escorted by guards after guards after guards in different floors and halls like you were some ambassador carrying state secrets. The sixth guard opened the door for you to walk into the corridor leading to the queen’s chambers. You took a deep breath and started walking to your target when—

“Princess?”

You jumped in your place upon that voice echoing in the quiet corridor. When you turned around you saw Hyunjin in a much different attire than his usual night robe. He was clad in a black one with elegant silvery white embroidery around his collar and sleeves and a matching black and white shirt underneath. You briefly wondered whether the royal wardrobe had always consisted of combat boots.

“What are you doing here?”

“I uh– I’m– Her majesty wanted to see me.”

“She did, huh?” he checked you out from head to toe and spoke before leaving, “Tell her I said hi.”

You would be lying if you said it didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. Except for the surprised namecalling, Hyunjin’s overall demeanor was really cold like he didn’t even know you. Then again, what were you expecting right in front of the queen’s chambers? For him to declare his undying love for you?

“Enter.”

Wow, okay, no ‘Come in’ like a regular person. Sure.

“You asked for me, your majesty?”

“Ah, yes.”

Damn, this woman possessed the aura of a thousand empresses. Even when she politely smiled, you were still internally yelling ‘What am I doing wrong?!’ at maximum volume. When the guard said ‘her chambers’, for some reason you imagined her own room, but this large hall seemed more like a place she hosted people in, somewhere between a study and a living room.

Jesus christ, why the fuck would the queen ask to meet in her private chambers like you are BFFs? Way to get ahead of yourself…

“Starting today,” Hyejin floated towards the little teapot she had on an ornate ebony table, “we will be commencing your training and every time you're here, you will be sleeping in the guest room on this floor.”

“My training?”

“Yes. You do remember me saying I could teach you a thing or two, no?”

You glued your eyes to her hands. Hyejin made pouring tea look like an ancient art. You remembered the texture of these delicate cups; Hyunjin had a similar pair in his little room on your floor. She pushed your mug towards you, gave you the teapot, and gestured at her empty one.

“Now you pour it for me.”

That was it? You were supposed to pour tea?

You just mimicked the way she filled your cup to a T, but her expression gave away that she was more than content.

“You are indeed a keen observer, aren’t you?”

Maybe, but Hyejin still gave you no explanation as to why you were summoned that day. While you kept looking at her with questioning eyes, she got up to her feet.

“Rise.”

You stood up. She started floating towards the door this time.

“Walk with me.”

Hyejin kept walking two steps ahead of you for some time. Then she slowed down and made way for you to lead. You kept walking straight to the door.

“Don’t droop your shoulders. Head high.”

You did as she said, still having no clue why you were subjected to this manners training, not the mention from the queen herself.

“Turn around. Walk towards me.”

You softened your movements based on a quick calculation of what the queen might have been expecting of you. She just stood there in the middle of the ginormous hall with her hands clasped right under her bosom.

“Hands in front of you. Gracefully.”

You copied her posture exactly, and she didn’t give any further instructions until you stood right in front of her.

“Thank you,” Hyejin slowly bowed, which immediately prompted you to do your usual 90-degree bow across her. You heard disapproving tutting coming from above you.

“Not like that. We are two peers at a dojo. Again.”

If somebody told you you would be practicing casual greetings with the queen several months ago, you would ask them which psych ward they were residing at, but there you were.

“Why are you doing this for me, your highness?”

“I’ve always wanted a daughter I can teach these to,” Hyejin lovingly responded while returning to the table, “Between you and me, my sons are little rascals when it comes to things like these.”

Ooh lady, if you only knew…

“Say, do you know what adult ceremonies are, child?” she asked while taking a polite sip from her porcelain cup.

“Yes, your highness. It’s the 21st birthdays of the royal blood.”

“I’ve seen your health reports,” she folded her hands on her lap, “I am aware that you are not a virgin.”

What even…? Not only that was none of anyone’s goddamn business, why was that in your health reports in the first place?

“Does that displease you?”

“On the contrary,” she softly tilted her head, “I did ask you to teach a thing or two to the residents of this estate, didn’t I?”

This could not be headed to somewhere good, solely judging from the way she was wording it. You opted for not jumping to conclusions and kept your composure instead.

“What does that mean exactly?”

“I would like you to escort my son during his adult ceremony.” 

“Escort?”

“It’s just for one night. There will be some festivities thrown in his honor and you’re going to accompany him. You can wear whatever you would wear outside for spending time with your peers for casual celebrations,” then her tone of voice changed drastically like she wanted you to understand how important her following words were, “You are not to see him again after that and you will not divulge this information to him.”

Did you even have a say in this matter? Her excellency could say ‘She would like you to do’ things all she wanted, but you were well aware it actually translated into ‘You will do’ the aforementioned things, or else. 

Still, the news of not being able to see Hyunjin again…

“What exactly am I going to be teaching him?”

“How to please a woman. He’s waited long enough.”

HAHAHAHA, BITCH YOU THOUGHT!

It took everything in your power not to snort, but more importantly, it was appalling how her majesty seemed to be genuinely unaware of what was going on within her own walls. Really? She really believed that her own flesh and blood was able to declare war against his most basic needs? Whatever the fuck happened to the notorious intelligence channels of the royal estate?

This was not a request of course; it was an order. How convenient was it that you were invited to some familiar territory? Why, of course, you could escort his grace for one night.

For one last night, apparently.

“You are also to make sure he doesn’t touch anybody else that night. Understood?”

Sure, I’ll also be his chaperone while I’m at it I guess.

“I consider it an honor, your highness.”

On the other side of the medallion were things you were unaware of, of course. Hyejin knew what a huge risk this was. One night could ruin a lot of things, or worse, it could leave you begging for more of the things you could not have. She should have known; she had made the same mistake long ago. Twenty-one years ago to be precise. 

It took incessant insistence on Hyejin’s part, but the apple of her eye finally spilled his guts and made it crystal clear to her that he didn’t want to have anything to do with some imported streetwalker, very unlike the tendencies of his father. Not the actual one, the one on paper. He said he wanted you. How could she say no? How could she deny her baby the one thing he asked for after all those years of waiting? This was her way of giving a gift to her favorite son.

Unlike the other one, he had deserved it after all.

Self-control. The virtue of a future king. The key to his freedom and eventual happiness. Chris had to prove he had it, and damn did he do one hell of a job.

“Your excellency?”

Hyunjin knocked on his older brother’s door and peeked inside just to find him lounging on a leather sofa, reading what seemed like one of his favorite poetry books.

“Nervous?”

“Not really.”

“You’re becoming a man tonight,” Hyunjin declared in an exaggeratedly sultry voice, “I thought you’d be looking forward to it.”

“It’s just a party. We’re gonna eat, drink, and get wasted probably.”

“You’re also gonna pop your cherry, man, come on,” Hyunjin slapped his brother on the back, “One of us is finally getting some.”

Lying through his teeth like it was nothing. As if he hadn’t started fucking all the entertainers the second he turned legal out of pure spite. Hyunjin had already made through the entire roster twice by then. He even had his favorites.

But those favorites were reserved for either nights of great triumphs or great sorrow.

“Such classy language, your grace,” Chris chuckled and put a bookmark on the page he stopped reading, “How you even lasted this long is beyond me.”

“I keep telling you. There are shitloads of toys you could utilize.”

“Or you could have let me borrow yours.”

“I don’t share. Find your own,” Hyunjin replied curtly and batted his eyelashes at Chris, “Or is it too much for your toxic masculinity, sword boy?”

“HEY!”

He loudly cackled at the rise he was able to get out of Chris. Meanwhile, his brother didn’t seem all that enthused about the night on the horizon.

“I really want you there, Hyun. Can’t you sneak out?”

“It’s fine, brother. You have fun tonight for both of us. You deserve it,” he slapped the older’s shoulder again, “The second you come back I want all the details, though.”

Hyunjin was not allowed to attend Chris’ adult ceremony for he was not an ‘adult’ in the eyes of the royal council, but more importantly, he got a hold of the information of who Chris’ escort was going to be that night. While his initial motive was to stop seeing whoever his brother’s assigned company for that night was going to be…

It was plain unbearable even thinking of you and him together in whatever capacity, so he had to distract himself in the only way he knew how. Just like he did the day before when you weren’t in your room doing god knows what. 

Why weren’t you in your room? Where could you have possibly gone?

Hyunjin got so damn upset at your absence that he invited Chris out for a night drive to seemingly blow off some steam. Then he went back to his catharsis room to get high. If you were back, he was prepared to get rid of whoever was waiting for him in that bed. He could have made you come to your senses in his arms instead, but you didn’t show up.

‘Hit this and strip. It’s time to play.’

Hyunjin had to shut down for the night. Otherwise, he was either going to make himself go certifiably insane, or do something very very stupid. When he appeared in your corridor again, he looked at your door for some time, currently basked in total darkness. He clenched his teeth in the utter frustration of not being able to do jack shit about any of this and slid his door open.

“Hope I didn’t make you wait for too long, kittens,” he said while untying his belt, “My brother’s turning 21 tonight. We’re gonna have a little celebration of our own.”

…for nights of great triumphs or great sorrow.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

Cancel your plans for next week. We're invited to Prince Christopher's adult ceremony.

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-R. (CB97%)

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[clovrecs]

DAECHWITA: Chapter 1

« PREVIOUS CHAPTER · «SERIES MASTERLIST»

“Because I like pleasing people for my own pleasure,” he tilted his head to the side in a way that reminded you so much of his mother, “It’s not just about immediate dopamine release, you see. I also have a thing for complete strangers blindly trusting me.” “Because you’re a prince?” “Because I am me.”

Chapter 1: Wangja's Nocturne

📜12.6K words | Approx. 55-min. read 🚨Please see the series masterlist for general warnings: Brief mention of anxiety (stage fright), recreational drug use (sorta), (accidental) voyeurism, implied anal sex, sex under influence, Hyunjin has a blaring foot fetish, implied corruption kink, dom/sub dynamics (switch-leaning tendencies), body worshipping, sensory deprivation (blindfolding), lowkeyest knifeplay possible (non-violent intentions; it's clear it's for a scene), temperature play (ice - f receiving), waxplay (m receiving), hair pulling, mild breathplay, facefucking, implied breeding kink, vaginal fingering, oral sex. 📻Accompanying soundtrack 💭Reblogs & comments are always appreciated and please keep in mind they are the ultimate motivation fuel. 🍮Like my content? Consider supporting my work with a pudding!

Your oddinary is my ordinary.

“Today we’re going to learn about occupations. Who wants to share what their parents do for a living?”

An endless string of high-pitched yelling demanding the teacher’s attention. Accountant. Farmer. Civil servant. Businesswoman. And among all that, a tiny shy voice blurting out the most unexpected.

“Martial artist”.

“Oooooooh.”

Fascination. An awestruck silence took over the entire room because that was the same thing as saying ‘Red Power Ranger’ in the eyes of a bunch of seven-year-olds. 

“That’s so interesting, Y/N! What does a martial artist do?”

“My father teaches the arts of Mars at The Dragon Pride Dojo, miss.”

Excitement. The hushed whispers were spreading all over the classroom at record speed as if the juiciest gossip just dropped in the neighborhood of nosy aunties. Everybody knew The Dragon Pride Dojo and the renowned world champion martial artist that owned it.

Your father.

“She’s Grandmaster Minhyuk’s daughter?”

“Oooooooh.”

It wasn’t the namedropping that took your teacher by surprise. It was the fact that a seven-year-old uttered the phrase ‘the arts of Mars’ very casually like she was talking about milk and cereal. It was very apparent that you had a gift for expression, even if you had picked it up from someone else.

“Does your mother work, as well?”

“She guards the gates of heaven, miss.”

Regret. A sorrowful silence took over the entire room because that was the same thing as saying ‘I know what death is’ in the eyes of a woman in her thirties.

It always made people uncomfortable because they thought they made a little girl sad, but you didn’t understand why. Granted, you weren’t able to spend any time with your mother since she passed away right after giving birth to you, but your father was nothing short of a mother. Yes, he was receiving great assistance from neighbors and friends every now and then, but he still knew how to braid your hair, make you lunchboxes with little octopus-shaped sausages in them, read you bedtime stories, teach you things, and he was great at all of those. He even turned the entire neighborhood upside down looking for sanitary pads when you got your first period, which was appalling to your friends. How could you even talk about these things with your father? Wasn’t that embarrassing?

No, it wasn’t. Although you thought having a mother must have been nice, you didn’t have a mom-shaped hole within you. Why would you when you had a superhero for a dad?

Yet, your father’s entourage, especially the female ones didn’t seem to think so.

“You should consider remarrying, Minhyuk.”

“We’re doing just fine. I’m not gonna bring some random person into our lives just because you see it fit.”

“She needs a feminine touch in her life. Are you trying to raise her as a boy?”

“I’m raising her as her own damn person, Hyejin,” Minhyuk’s exasperated sigh echoed in the dojo, “Just because it doesn’t live up to your princess standards doesn’t mean I’m raising her the wrong way. You don’t see me judging the crap out of your concept of make-believe families.”

“That’s not the same thing and you know it,” Hyejin took massive offense at what came out of her friend’s lips, “You do know how much I care about your family, especially for what you’ve done for me. My offer still stands.”

“God no!” Minhyuk burst into maniacal laughter, “I’m never gonna make a decision like that on her behalf. When she’s old enough, she’s gonna pave her own path, and I will stand by whatever she decides to do.”

The eyes of the seemingly pretty lady standing in front of your father darted to you, and she noticed you were hiding behind the wooden column with a scared expression on your face. You could only see her eyes behind the black surgical mask she was wearing, but from the way they turned into lines, she must have been smiling at you.

“Are you fighting?”

“No, sweetheart, no. Come here,” your father kneeled and opened his arms to embrace you. You ran to him and took shelter in his chest.

“Dad, what does ‘a feminine touch’ mean?”

“It means how fathers raise their girls is none of anyone’s damn business, baby,” Minhyuk put on your coat while shooting death glares at the lady and grabbed your hand, “Come, let’s go home.”

This dojo was like your second home. Because your father spent most of his time here, you kept bugging him to teach you what he was teaching all those other people. If learning combat was the way to spend more time with him, so be it. You also wouldn’t shut up about the scripts adorning the walls going ‘Look how pretty!’ every time you saw them, and once you learned that your father was the one responsible for those, you nagged him to teach you calligraphy until he caved.

You didn’t have any siblings, but you did grow up with two cousins who were like your brothers, which meant your upbringing did not have what most people would consider ‘a feminine touch’. When you were at the dojo, you were surrounded by men. When you were in school you were surrounded by boys due to the cred you had because of your father.

But that wasn’t why your teacher wanted to talk to your father.

He was always aware that you were adept at things, but he didn’t make much of it. Everybody could have had tendencies that allowed them to learn a skill quicker than others. Heck, he did have such students himself.

Yet, when someone kept picking up everything like a sponge absorbing water, apparently that wasn’t something ordinary. Your teacher explained to your father that anything you wanted to learn, you could master insanely easily, and that there were steps to be taken for this.

“She needs to attend a school for gifted kids, sir. We can’t have her potential to be wasted here.”

He was really happy with this news at first because that meant you could do anything you wanted with your life, but that happiness was stillborn, instantly turning into worry.

What if too many choices overwhelmed you?

What if you ended up surrounded by the wrong people?

Or worse, what if the government heard about it?

When you changed schools, it was like a whole new universe for you. Instead of chaotic P.E. classes, getting brain freeze with popsicles, and trying to say tongue twisters three times fast, it was aptitude tests, performance tasks, and Science Olympiads. It certainly required some getting used to the ivory walls surrounding this beacon of learning.

Your father’s concerns were dissolving over time whereas you kept passing by the neighborhood schools on your way home to watch how the kids played in the garden. 

To remember what ‘normal’ looked like every once in a while.

Your ordinary is my oddinary.

The running half-joke made by the neighborhood aunties was that ‘girls could always marry into a rich family’. You thought that was funny, but not ha-ha funny, and it subliminally pushed you to become a tough nut to crack. In a world that wasn’t that kind to the bearers of pure x chromosomes, maybe that was for the better. The androgynous mannerisms you had developed didn’t necessarily mean there was a whole tomboy situation going on, though. You just didn’t want to depend on anyone and wanted to be able to take care of yourself.

…which would have been admirable if that was the whole issue.

It could be due to the people you grew up with, could be the semi-clinical schooling you received but you turned out to be what the school counselor lady called an “ambivert” person. You were great with people once you were comfortable, but damn were you awkward as fuck when you first met them. 

Time didn’t stand still, of course. As you were growing up, your father was also growing older. As much as you didn’t want him worrying about your future, there was nothing you could do to stop it. He wasn’t exactly anxious about what profession you were going to choose—you could decide not to join the workforce at all for all he cared. The more you were turning into a young woman fixated on independence, the more he was getting restless about something that mattered more to him. He didn’t want you to be lonely.

Because he knew what that was like.

While turning into a neighborhood aunty himself, inquiring about your love life as casually as he could, your father was clearly forgetting how young you still were. It wasn’t that you had no interest in other people; of course you did. Like any teenager, you had obviously gone through the unbearable pain of having crushes, some of which were unfortunately not reciprocated. You did share your first kiss with your first love. You did snuck out to the movies. You did lose your virginity to your long-time boyfriend right before he left for college overseas. It broke your heart, of course, but you were gonna live. You just didn’t feel the need to inform your dad about every single one of those instances because everybody was entitled to a private life.

Not that he would put the guy in a chokehold if he heard about his little girl getting heartbroken, but you could never be too careful, you know?

Nevertheless, you still had a long life ahead of you. So many places to see. So many things to experience. So many routes to pick from. 

Which was exactly why you were about to rip your hair out looking at the stack of acceptance letters on your desk. You were fucking eighteen for fuck’s sakes; how were you supposed to make a decision that was going to impact your entire life? Were you supposed to choose a school based on financial support? The prestige? The student life? The job placem—

“I FUCKING HATE THIS!!!”

“Sweetheart!”

“SORRY, DAD!”

As you rested your cheek on your desk, mumbling to yourself incoherently, your father appeared by your door and pointed at the envelopes in front of you.

“Grab those and come downstairs. We’re putting an end to this tonight.”

First world problem, right? Little did people know that not having that many choices was actually preferable in cases like this. When you dragged yourself to the kitchen, you noticed there was a bottle of melon liqueur and two shot glasses on the kitchen island.

“Um… Sir?”

“What? You already turned eighteen, but even if you didn’t I’m your goddamn father.”

“Dad!”

“Sit, woman. This is getting ridiculous.”

He poured two glasses and raised his for a toast. After rolling the shots, he kicked off the games.

“How many are you trying to pick from?”

“Nine.”

“JESUS!”

“You’re not helping, dad!”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Minhyuk refreshed your glasses and asked, “What’s bothering you? What are you trying to figure out, sweetheart?”

“It’s just… Can I?” you rolled the drink and drooped your shoulders, “It feels too much too fast all of a sudden. I don’t want to make a choice I’m going to regret.”

“Well, there’s no guarantee to that now, is there?” your father made a fair point, “What are the things you can control?”

You heaved a deep sigh and looked at the envelopes, “I guess I can divide them like this. These are the ones that give me a free ride,” you picked five of the envelopes and laid them out, “These three are the most prestigious schools I can go to, and this one lets me pick my major in my second year.”

“So?” Minhyuk creased his brows, “What are you beating yourself up about? It looks like you have this figured out already.”

You grabbed the envelope and swiveled it in front of him, “It’s The Royal Academy, dad.”

“And?”

“It’s gonna be so intense!”

“Oh, so you also want an option that lets you party, huh?” he leaned back in his chair, “I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you can’t have it all.”

“Now you see my problem,” you refilled the glasses this time. Your father examined the letters and picked three of them for you.

“You’re by no means obligated to choose from among these, but here’s what I think,” he started pointing at the letters, “This one will give you the chance to be in a multicultural environment, but you have to pick your major while registering. The same goes for this one. I honestly don’t know why you even applied there, but you can at least have the student life you want. And this one,” he picked the letter that might have as well said ‘military bootcamp’ on it, “will at least give you the flexibility to make your mind up a year into your education. The choice is yours.”

You were thinking so hard your father could practically see the formulas emitting from your head. He was aware of how unfair it was to force people to make such a big decision so early in life, but sometimes ‘it is what it is’. He held your hand over the counter.

“If at any point you feel like it’s not worth it, you can quit. You’re not gonna disappoint anyone.”

That smile. That smile was always what put your mind at ease. That smile was always what gave you the courage to take a leap of faith. 

If you fell, it was okay.

You picked the letter emblazoned with the royal seal.

“We have a winner, sweetheart,” he raised his glass towards you for a celebratory toast this time, “Congratulations!”

“Oooh, boy. Here we go.”

Behind those giant gates laid The Royal Academy, the place you were going to spend the next couple of years of your life, not to mention the best ones of your youth. Buried in books.

You momentarily wondered whether it was too late to change your mind.

This school harbored the finest people from all over the world, faculty and students alike, and had a very broad academic catalog including many subjects ranging from positive sciences to culinary arts. It was notorious for its rigorous education, but it also boasted some of the most successful people the country had ever seen, including two presidents, renowned politicians, pioneering doctors, and many artists. People who graduated from here had absolutely no problem landing an excellent job placement in their respective fields.

What Harvard when this school existed? Please.

The campus was adjacent to The Forbidden Grounds. The two pieces of land were separated by high fire brick walls adorned with poison ivy all over like delicate barbed wire, but the school still looked like an extension of the palace from afar since they shared such a similar architectural texture and color palette. Reds, greens, browns, dark grays.

It was pretty alright, but the atmosphere at the academy just felt like an updated expansion pack of your previous school life. Rigid. Strictly academic. It smelled like parchment and knowledgable ghosts in the open corridors overlooking courtyards. This wasn’t any ordinary school, yes, but nobody else sure as hell had to wear a freaking uniform while attending university.

You half-jokingly dubbed the academy as a military bootcamp before, but once you arrived on the grounds, you were welcomed with such a homogenous look that it indeed looked like one. Everybody looked like sharply dressed royal cadets attending a formal event. A thin layer of plain fabric inside, a printed robe on top in colors representative of the colleges people were affiliated with, and a belt around the waist. All made of pure silk. The length of the robes got longer based on your “seniority”, so naturally, the faculty wore the longest ones.

You as an undeclared freshman wore a waist-length dark purple robe with white tiger print on it. There were also navy blues of engineering, emerald greens of medicine, burgundies of military studies, charcoal blacks of the professors among many more colors all over the place. The only color missing was the ruby red with golden print since that was only reserved for the formal royal wardrobe. Nobody else was allowed to wear those.

Came the end of the day, of course your father would turn on the aunty mode with a disgustingly sweet voice.

“How was school, sweetheart?”

“Tough, but good.”

“Anybody interesting?”

“Dad.”

“I’m just saying…”

“Dad, it was literally my first day, oh my god!”

This man literally had no chill. Who the heck met that one person they were going to spend the rest of their lives with across the room on the very first day of school?

Oh, right, your father, that’s who.

Seeing how annoyed you were getting, he dialed down the hopeless romantic shenanigans, and trapped you in a hug no matter how much you tried to escape it.

“Don’t be mad. I just want what’s best for you. You know that, right sweetheart?”

You hated it when he made sense.

School was indeed tough and it was only going to get tougher. Your schedule being super inconvenient was not making things any easier. You would have three hours in the morning, then a two-hour break, then another three hours, and its alternating permutations for the rest of the week. Getting out of the grounds and coming back was just a waste of time considering how far away it was from the city center, so you went on a little excursion on the campus in search of a place you could hear yourself fucking think. Or, you know, just stop thinking for a while.

And after two weeks of going to the most random corners of the premises, there it was.

You found a little pond. It was a little weird that it looked somewhat tended considering how far away it was from the main building complex—it took a twenty-minute walk just to get there, and there was not a soul around. It was so quiet that your own breathing sounded deafeningly loud to you. You felt the barks of the trees surrounding the place, and after finding one that you deemed sturdy, you climbed on top of it with the agility of a tiger.

“Whoa…”

The time spent on this piece of land was indeed an illusion. It made you forget where you actually were. You were convinced you were traveling to the Joseon Dynasty every time you were here. The dome of sky arching over the place felt like a time capsule. 

Yet, from the top of that tree, you could clearly see the concrete fabric surrounding the lush greens and fiery brick reds of The Forbidden Grounds. You were so awestruck by the fascinating contrast that you didn’t know for how long you watched that view nothing short of magnificent.

Until some unusual stimulant demanded your attention.

You heard some faint noise coming from somewhere on the right. It was relatively far away, but the quietness of the place was so dense that you could perfectly make out what it was.

Somebody was moaning. You happened to know the difference between pain and pleasure, but this sounded like somewhere in between.

You squinted your eyes and tried to detect the source of the sound behind the curtains of branches and leaves for some time. When you finally spotted something moving in the distance…

Oh my fucking god.

Two people were fucking in broad daylight. On a balcony. A woman was bent over the wooden rails and her face was not visible, but the man mercilessly ramming himself into her from behind…

He had a robe on reaching to his ankles, material much like the one you were wearing but it was white with purple flowery prints. Well, it was the only thing he had on. His disheveled blonde hair looked all wet from sweat, and if sun rays were able to break through the shadow of the curvy roof somewhat hiding him, you were sure they would snitch on how his entire torso was covered in it, as well.

“You love taking it up the ass, don’t you?” he was maniacally smiling while panting, “Focus. Focus on the feeling. You’re gonna cum from this.”

The way he looked did not match the rawness of his moves at all. How the heck could a man looking like a porcelain doll fuck someone raw into oblivion like that? You knew you shouldn’t have been looking, but this was like a car accident, impossible to take your eyes off of. He was just so so so pleasing to the eye. You could only imagine what he felt like to the touch. Probably really firm judging from his chiseled figure, but a million degrees celsius considering how passionate he was.

God, you’re just the thing I like, you fucking beautiful creature.

If you could maintain your balance on that tree, you would legitimately get yourself off to the sight of him. He got you that wet from that far.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t touch yourself to him the second you got a moment of privacy.

You kept frequenting your spot by the pond whenever you had a long break in between your classes. It felt like a little hideout that nobody else knew. Although you wouldn’t even admit that to yourself, every time you were there you were hoping you would witness that unreal beauty’s undistilled passion again. Just once. No harm in just once more. 

You kept thinking about that beautiful man. His barely discernible silhouette was embossed behind your eyelids. Every time you closed your eyes, he was there. Moaning. Panting. Eyes squeezed shut when he came.

“Hello?”

“Jesus f-!”

You were so used to being all by yourself, only accompanied by the wind blowing that the voice scared the crap out of you, causing you to almost fall into the pond you were sitting by.

“I’m so so sorry,” the owner of the voice instinctively rushed towards you to help you back up, “Are you okay?”

This voice… 

You knew that from days ago. Instead of calming down, your blood pressure skyrocketed upon being reminded of the filth he spewed from his lips, complete music to your ears.

“Wow, your heart is beating so fast.”

You turned around to confirm your assumptions and it was indeed true. Same blonde hair, only neatly combed this time. A layer of white silk was hiding his body under his black robe, but you weren’t able to unsee it as if you had x-ray vision.

“You’re an academy student?” he gently smiled while helping you get up to your feet. You were still slightly disoriented.

“No, I teleported from the Silla Dynasty. Why else would I dress like this?”

He laughed. His eyes turned into crescent moons when he laughed. He looked like a historical romance character, really. You pointed at his clothing.

“I’ve never seen these robes before. Is there a new college open?”

He didn’t answer your question, but his smile was still intact, “I didn’t really think I’d find anybody around here.”

He was so calm and composed, but there was this aura to him. Something you couldn’t quite explain. In your experience, it was always the quiet ones.

Always the quiet ones that fucked shit up.

“I hope we run into each other again,” he smiled and left. You watched as he disappeared behind the trees, and he left you with an indescribable aftertaste on your palate. There were butterflies in your stomach, but at the same time, you felt like you had done something you shouldn’t have by encountering him in the first place. Maybe it was the guilt of knowing what he looked like under those silk layers. 

An even silkier flash of his bare skin… Just magnificent to witness.

Who are you, beautiful creature?

Towards the end of your first semester, all your professors were aware of the tremendous potential you had, and you were informed that finishing school way earlier than the usual course of study was not within the realm of the impossible. It actually served to your benefit because you just wanted to be done with the school formality so that you could start providing for your father for a change, not that he needed it—it was just a matter of feeling indebted to your favorite person. Just as much as he meant everything to you, there were only two things that mattered to him in this world: you and his dojo.

The Royal Academy was different than most schools in many ways. Normally, when you made it past a certain GPA threshold, you would be in the dean’s list. If you were exceptional, however, your name ended up on something much more distinguished than that: 

The Queen’s Honor Roll.

And when the Queen noticed you, it was much better than landing any other job in the world. 

Or so they said.

There was going to be a reception in honor of the students on the honor roll. Not only were you not expecting a celebration of sorts, but you were also tasked with delivering a little speech being the person topping that aforementioned chart.

Ha. Haha. Hahahahaha, it’s not like I have severe stage fright. This is FINE!

You thought the extraordinariness would stop there, but all the attendees of this event were asked to sign an NDA declaring they were not going to divulge anything from the night outside. No phones or devices of any kind were going to be allowed, and everybody was going to be searched upon arrival. Although it lowkey made you feel like a celebrity, you found it a little weird to be picked up from your house in a black Escalade with filmed windows. It was impossible to see outside.

It was a party alright, but it legitimately looked like some pretentious fundraiser gala. Since the name of the event involved the queen, you were wondering whether she was going to be there, but your curiosity was promptly satisfied upon arrival. Since everybody was wondering the same thing, you overhead that she didn’t attend such events, which alleviated your anxiety about your speech the tiniest bit. Quite frankly, you rambling on stage wouldn’t even be the last thing you would want her to see.

“Which department do you think they’re at? I’ve never seen them.”

“No idea, but for them I’m willing to double major and not have a life.”

You turned your attention to the two people speaking behind you at the buffet, and looked at the direction of what they were commenting about.

WOWZA!

Two guys were talking to each other at one corner of the hall, and man did they look absolutely stunning. You did recognize one of them. The guy on the balcony. Also from the pond. Also from a couple of your wet dreams. When he turned his head to the side and locked eyes with you from afar, you flinched in your place.

“...and now please welcome our interim valedictorian Y/N Y/LN for their speech.”

The applause and the abrupt mention of your name pulled you back to the earth so fast that you felt a little disoriented. It was fine. Just fine. You were supposed to plaster a smile on your face, fake confidence, utter a bunch of sentences, and come back down. Your hands were clammy already as you walked towards that microphone. 

“Yeah, um… Hi!”

The soft music stopped. An entire room of people were looking at you. They were probably judging the crap out of you, weren’t they? God, you shouldn’t have worn that dress tonight. You shouldn’t have styled your hair that way. You should have been fucking normal and not land your ass on that list that was going to put you behind that microphone. Your throat was so dry and you still weren’t speaking.

Some movement at the very back of the crowd captured your attention. It was the guy speaking to the blond god. He lifted two of his hands from his stomach towards his chest and mouthed something.

‘Breathe.’

You took a deep breath and switched to autopilot. You didn’t even fully register what you said—you just knew some sentences were stacked somewhere in your brain, and they needed to be read out loud. That was it. You kept it as brief as possible, thanked a bunch of people, and when you were finished, your breathing instructor at the back started an applause, letting out a loud ‘Whoo!’. As you were stepping down, you noticed some blonde glow approaching you in your peripheral vision, immediately sending a shockwave throughout your body that was barely about to calm down.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh not now please no. I’m not in the right headspace for this!!!

You and you goddamn ambivert nature… There was no way you could utter coherent things in front of this guy because he fucking did things to your insides. You made your way to the buffet to grab three tiny bottles of ‘mini bar whiskey’ and rushed to the restroom to calm down away from the main hall. Once you got your wits back, you could go back out to talk to him with some sassy comment like “Did I tear it up or what? Haha why yes, thank you for noticing.”

You got a bit too carried away while having this imaginary conversation in your head on that empty corridor. Right when you were about to pull the main door leading to the restrooms, it swung open towards you and hit you on the forehead.

“Watch it!”

“Sh– Sorry!”

The person almost knocking you over immediately grabbed your arms and did a quick damage control. Once the birds flying over your head disappeared, you noticed it was the breathing instructor from earlier. He had an apologetic smile on his face.

“Let’s do it over. Hi, I’m Chris.”

You eyed his extended hand and looked back up at him, your hand still on your forehead.

“Yeah, no, you’re the bathroom dude from now on.”

It lowkey made you melt when he giggled and you couldn’t help the urge to smile back. No wonder he was able to calm you down all the way from the back of the hall since he had such a comforting aura around him.

“It’s a little boring inside, isn’t it?”

“I mean…” you hesitated the tiniest bit before answering, “It’s not not pretentious.”

“Wanna steal a bunch of drinks and hang out at the roof?”

“Which one do you have? A drinking probem or anarchistic tendencies?”

He pointed at your little handbag with a deadpan voice, “You do realize I can see the microscopic scotch peeking out of your purse, right?”

Shit!

“Alright, you got me.”

He giggled again and opened the left side of his blazer to flash his inner pocket, showing you one of the tiny bottles he had himself. It looked like he had a couple of more of those stashed under there. You cackled.

What an adorable dork.

“Come.”

Chris grabbed your hand and dragged you to the rooftop with quick steps. From the way he confidently led the way, it looked like he had been there before. It was chilly outside, but it wasn’t going to matter in about a second. The view from there was even better than your treetop one.

“You’re a student here?” you asked while opening the cap of the tiny bottle.

“Yes.”

“Robe color?”

“Burgundy.”

“Ooh, military studies,” you hissed at the information and contorted your face, “Severe ego problems.”

“Hey!”

You didn’t realize how much time you spent on that rooftop with Chris. The conversation you shared was a little out of the ordinary. Besides your initial question about his robe color, neither of you asked about personal things as if there was this unspoken rule to abide by to not get to know each other. Come to think of it, he didn’t ask you what yours was when he offered his name to you. Like he was just trying to even the ground because he learned your name by accident in that hall. You didn’t insist. 

You talked about impersonal things instead. You talked about how the first snow was right around the corner. You talked about what paired well with whiskey. You talked about bicycles. You talked about nunchucks. You talked about the sea. 

And at the end of the conversation, you realized how he kept looking at your lips with longing. You knew what that meant but even after a couple of drinks you couldn’t find the courage to close that distance on his behalf even though nothing was as inviting as his lips at that moment.

“I uh- I should go,” you darted your eyes to the floor, “Thank you for hanging out with me, bathroom dude.”

“Anytime.”

You left him behind and made your way downstairs. You had to pass by the reception hall again to inform the personnel you were ready to leave. As you were walking towards the information desk, you were stopped by someone who looked like a bodyguard instead.

“Miss, this way please.”

What the fuck?

Were you about to get your first disciplinary hearing on the night of your academic triumph by any chance?

The man escorted you to a room at the end of the hall, which looked like a judge’s chambers. While you were expecting an entire committee, there was just a woman clad in evening attire inside. Elegance for days. She was warmly smiling at you.

Why did you feel like you had seen her before, though?

“Uh- Have we met before, ma’am? You look somewhat familiar.”

“I should hope so,” the woman got up to her feet and started walking towards you, “There’s a picture of my face on some bills circulating in the country.”

“Since I haven’t seen anything higher than a twenty in my life, I’ll have to disappoint you on that one.”

You laughed at your own half-joke attempt sponsored by the buzz still circulating throughout your body of course, risking making a complete fool out of yourself in front of this woman. Lucky for you, she humored you and let out a tiny chuckle, but all you could think about was how dignified she looked. It was all about the vibe, you know? It was such a powerful aura emitting from her that you could totally picture her sitting on a thro—

OH SHIT!

“Oh my f- Your highness,” you immediately bowed 110 degrees, “I wholeheartedly apologize.”

Her soft chuckle got louder, indicative of how much she was getting a kick out of your newfound epiphany, “You are indeed fascinating, Ms. Y/LN.”

“You- You know who I am?”

“Why, of course. You were our distinguished scholar for the night. You’re also The Grandmaster’s daughter, correct?”

“Yes, your highness.”

But ‘why’ do you know about my father?

As though she was able to read your mind, she continued, “He has served our family impeccably over many years. Needless to say, I have not a shred of doubt regarding his loyalty to us.”

“Your faith is very much appreciated, your highness,” you bowed again.

She gestured you to sit on one of the brown leather armchairs in front of the gargantuan mahogany desk, and set across you herself.

“Say, does your father ever talk about the future, Miss Y/LN?”

You didn’t understand what the question exactly entailed but attempted an answer nevertheless, “He wants to own a cherry orchard when he retires if that’s what you mean.”

“Very charming”, she tilted her head to the side, “What are your future plans?”

Really. What were they indeed? 

You spent an entire semester trying to find something you would indeed be passionate about but everything was just a little meh. When you reached out to the career counseling services for a little guidance, they put you through a test, and your aptitude was equally divided across disciplines. Yay, good news, you could do anything you wanted.

Thanks for nothing, I guess.

“I’m yet to figure it out, your highness.”

“How about you figure it out here?”

There was obviously a reason for you to be summoned there. The queen declared that she wanted you on the grounds for intensive education since you were an asset that just could not go to waste. She was well aware that the government was going to hear about you sooner or later, and the royal family and the president knew the conditions for locking down talent. First come first serve.

You didn’t need to know about all that, of course.

“You can consider it an internship offer of sorts, if you’d like.”

“Internship?” you creased your brows, “And you would be my supervisor?”

“Supervisor?” she laughed, still somehow managing to keep her elegance intact, “I’m really tired of being one of the few women on the grounds. I can be your company instead. Maybe even teach you a thing or two.”

“What thing?”

She leaned over and lightly held your chin like a mother would do, “Academics are one thing, but women are also living, breathing, organic works of art, child. I’d very much like you to learn the intricacies of it,” Then she rested her back against the couch and clasped her hands on her lap, “If you do not wish anything to happen to your father’s beloved dojo, that is.”

There it was. Of course she wasn’t going to offer something like this out of the goodness of her heart, was she? What exactly did she want you to learn anyway? Your throat got drier than when you stood behind that microphone earlier that night.

“Can um- Can I take some time to think about it?”

“Why, of course,” she fondly smiled, “Would five minutes suffice?”

Excuse you?

“I thought you didn’t have any doubts about our family’s loyalty, your highness.”

“I never said anything about your family, child. I said I do not doubt The Grandmaster’s loyalty. I do not know you from Adam now, do I?”

She picked up a file resting on the desk, opened the cover, and went through a bunch of documents inside.

“I understand this is a tough decision to make on short notice, but I have many more crucial matters to attend to. Thus, I would like to request a prompt answer,” she gave you what looked like a contract for you to examine, “Should you accept this offer, not only will I ensure nobody ever lays a finger on the dojo, but neither you nor The Grandmaster shall worry about any financial burden for the rest of your lives. I have everything ready, here.”

You went through what was outlined in that document as quickly as you could, cursing at yourself the entire time for deciding to drink that night. A sentence in the middle of the document grabbed your attention.

“...bound to serve The Royal Family however is seen fit within an instructional capacity…”

“What does this mean?”

“It just means when the time comes I might ask you to teach a thing or two to the residents of this estate, as well. I am very much aware of your prodigious tendencies,” she declared matter-of-factly, “Needless to say, this also means you pledge allegiance to The Royal Family, of course. Just like your father.”

Your father pledged allegiance to The Royals? Since when? You did know he had trained countless people affiliated with them, but still—

Nevertheless, you felt a little sense of relief. What was asked of you was actually not that bad considering you’d been assisting your father with hardcore martial arts training for years. What could possibly be worse than going head to head with colossal testosterone bombs on the regular? 

“Your highness, with all due respect, I would very much like to consult with my father about such a decision.”

“You need not worry about that, child,” she pulled another piece of paper from the file declaring your father’s consent statement, not that he needed to give that on your behalf in the first place since you were an adult in the eyes of the law.

“Should my daughter accept the aforementioned conditions of her own volition only, I, as her father, hereby declare that I consent to everything stated above.”

I just want what’s best for you.

You did, too. You wanted what was best for him. Although you knew how much he loved it, you wanted him to retire from the dojo and move to an island to tend his cherry orchard like he always wanted. Spend the rest of whatever time he had left happily and in peace. Maybe meet someone there. Remember what being in love felt like.

“Here,” her excellency extended an ornate fancy pen to you.

All in all, your father was the only man you trusted in this entire world. If he agreed to this, there must have been a reason. You signed the document picturing that reassuring smile he always flashed whenever you doubted something.

The rest of your life was about to begin.

“And you’re sure this is okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? This is indeed a great opportunity. Think of it as being the chosen one,” your father uttered calmly with a smile, “I’ve always told you I’m behind every decision you make, haven’t I?”

You briefly considered telling him about the thinly veiled threat posed against the dojo, but you eventually decided against it. There was no need to inject anxiety in him considering he already had so many worries about your future. On the bright side, you felt that this was a chance to finally be able to repay him in some way—that was your motivation for this whole ordeal.

“I’ll miss you, sweetheart.”

“I’ll miss you too, dad. Please take good care of yourself while I’m gone.”

Gone, meaning for at least two years. Since your residence was going to be on The Forbidden Grounds, you weren’t allowed to leave the premises, nor were you allowed any devices with you. No phone, no computer, not even an ancient pager. Nothing.

The all familiar black Escalade came to pick you up at midnight. If the inside of the car didn’t look somewhat cozy with the light beige leather upholstery and yellowish interior lighting, you were going to be convinced you were actually being taken to a black ops site.

“Miss?”

The car door literally opened to another dimension. You found yourself at what looked like the backyard of a multiple-story outbuilding. It wasn’t even an outbuilding but the gigantic palace made it look like one. The yard surrounded with a high wooden fence looked like a secret garden, and it possessed such a delicate beauty, covered with mowed lawn that had midnight dew on it, gorgeous flowers around a wooden gazebo, and a little pond in front of it that seemed to be the home of some koi fish. 

It somehow reminded you of the beautiful man again. Then you made your way to your new home.

Judging from the number of doors on this quiet corridor, you seemingly shared a hall with some people, but you didn’t know who they were, nor were you allowed to roam around. The only places you were free to go were the outside grounds, the passageway leading to the campus, and several common areas.

The Joseon cosplay started a little weird, though.

You went through an entire health check-up upon your arrival, and they checked everything. Blood pressure, lung capacity, cholesterol, hormone balance, every - single - one of your organ systems along with your entire health history. While you didn’t fully understand the necessity, you didn’t dwell on it much. Who knew what went through the minds of the royal affiliates?

Soon enough, you managed to establish a routine. Get up. Go to class. Come back. Study. Shower. Go to sleep. You didn’t need to go to your spot by the pond anymore since you could always come back to your room in between classes. You were still having a hard time believing you were actually living in this place. Lucky for you, you enjoyed the solitude so the quietness didn’t really bother you. You actually found it very serene.

Then you realized, you were indeed not alone in this place.

One night, you heard some sounds coming from the corridor for the first time. When you slid your door open as quietly as possible and peeked out, you saw a woman down the hall kissing someone you weren’t able to see by the doorframe.

Huh.

You wouldn’t know what happened during the daytime since you were out for school, but the visits got more frequent. Eventually, there were women coming and going into that room every single night. 

Who the fuck are these people?

You weren’t particularly bothered by it per se; it was just a matter of genuine curiosity. You had an inkling about what was going on in there, but you found it bewildering that in a not-so-yielding place like this, someone was bold enough to keep inviting people with their whole chest, and not face any sort of consequences for it. Then, one of these nights…

“God, Hyunjin! YES!”

Let’s just say that it became way too passionate.

Is NO ONE able to hear this, fucking CHRIST!

You slapped your silk robe on you to march towards the room and started banging on the door. You didn’t even care how loud you were knocking it since there was no way it was louder than whatever the fuck these people were doing inside. The door harshly slid open from the other side.

“WHAT?!”

Everything you wanted to say vanished into thin air out of mild shock in the face of what manifested before your eyes.

Disheveled look, still slightly panting. Belt of the robe clumsily tied around his thin waist, in no way covering his chest covered with a sheen of sweat.

It was him.

He looked as surprised as you were in that dark corridor, but more importantly what the hell was he doing living in this building?

“Don't you even dare speak to anyone about this if you don’t want problems, you hear me? Go!”

His eyes looked blank and his pupils were blown, a clear sign that he was under influence. He scared you so much that you ran back to your room without saying anything.

At least the sounds stopped for the rest of the night.

You didn’t really like adorning parts of your body that were visible. Even when you decided to get a tattoo — ‘Mind over matter’,  the dojo’s motto written in ancient script — you specifically asked for it to be on your spine so that it didn’t show whatever you wore. You weren’t really great with jewellery either with one exception.

Toe rings. Your father had told you about how your mom would always wear those, so you acquired a collection over the years.

That night, you were in your room doing a pedicure after taking a long shower when you heard a knock on your door for the first time. You briefly went through everything that happened during the day in your mind to confirm whether you did something wrong because anxious people problems. You expected to see even one of those armed guards at your door, but most definitely not him.

He had an apologetic expression on his face. His hair looked damp and he smelled like jasmines, apparently coming from taking a shower not too long ago.

“Can I come in?”

“I don’t know,” you leaned against the door and and crossed your arms over your chest, “Do I dare?”

“I deserve that,” he bashfully looked at the floor and met your eyes again, “Just two minutes. Please.”

You shrugged and stepped aside for him to enter. He didn’t waste any time and cut straight to the chase.

“I was really faded the other night and that’s no excuse to treat someone that poorly. I wholeheartedly apologize.”

What even…?

This man certainly didn’t beat around the bush. You didn’t think he would be so upfront and honest about it, so whatever annoyance you had dissipated. 

“Just keep it down, will you? That’s all I’m saying.”

A relieved smile adorned his beautiful features and he looked down again. You weren’t sure if you were seeing things, but it looked like he gulped thickly when he noticed the ring on your foot.

“Anyway. I’ll- I’ll go.”

“So, what is this, are you my male counterpart?” you asked while walking towards the door to open it for him to leave, “Am I being put through a control study again?”

He looked at you with a somewhat confused expression, “I don’t know what any of those words mean, but I happen to live here.”

“As what? An RA of sorts?”

“As the queen’s son,” he flashed a smile like he didn’t drop a bombshell on you just then, “I apologize once again. Good night.”

No fucking way…

That connected a lot of dots for you. Who the fuck else was going to have an attitude like they owned the goddamn place?

The person who owned the place, that’s who.

When you slowly slid the door close, still somewhat dazed due to this brand-new piece of information, you noticed his silk belt had dropped on the floor. You hurriedly went after him to give it back and knocked on his door right after he closed it.

“Yes?”

“You dropped this, your grace,” you bowed.

“Oh, thank you.”

When he reached for the smooth piece of fabric, your fingers brushed against each other. He still did something to your insides.

“Would you like to come in? The full moon is really pretty tonight.”

He slid his door open and stepped aside, showing you the balcony overlooking the moon as well as putting the rest of his room on display. He had lit a candle by his bedside, possibly the reason why the entire room smelled like cactus flower petals, fresh citrus, vanilla, and hints of coconut.

“I uh-”

“I also have chamomile tea,” he extended his hand to you as if asking you for a dance, “Please?”

Not that you were looking for excuses to say yes to this beautiful man, but a prince’s wishes were commands, right? You walked in and made your way to the balcony as he slid the door close. You sat on the literal edge of one of the bamboo chairs and soon after he appeared with two cups made of fine china.

“Am I making you nervous?” he commented on your posture while offering you the tea.

Hell yeah? Never in a billion years would you think you would be in the presence of the fucking prince. Who would be able to stay still like that wasn’t a big deal?

“Please don’t be,” he smiled while sitting down next to you.

“Yeah, it’s easier said than done.”

“Would you allow me to take the edge off?”

“How so?” you looked at him with raised brows.

“With this.”

He flashed a tiny piece of glass harboring some liquid inside, which looked like a miniature essence vial, and added a couple of drops to his tea.

“Only if you want, of course. No pressure.”

“What is this? Passiflora?”

“You could say that,” he hovered his hand over your cup, “May I?”

Eh. What the hell.

“Sure.”

You slowly drew circles in your cup with that glass spoon and took your first sip from the calming tea. You both sat there watching the moon for some time in silence, then all of a sudden, you felt something in the pit of your stomach. Like the sound of a water droplet, you heard it loud and clear. A warm, pleasant sensation was spreading throughout your body, and it was pooling between your legs. For some reason, you felt… unnecessarily confident in your sexiness.

The fuck?

You didn’t know what demon syrup you had with your tea, but that could have been veritaserum for all you cared because your nervousness indeed dissolved into thin air along with your filters.

“If you don’t mind me observing, this doesn’t really look like a prince’s chambers.”

“It’s not,” Hyunjin took a silent sip from the delicate porcelain cup, “This is my catharsis room.”

“Catharsis room?”

“I have needs,” he placed the empty cup on the bamboo coffee table in front of him, “which I could satisfy easily if I wasn’t trapped here.”

“Why are you trapped here?”

“Courtesy of my brother. Long story,” he got up to his feet and brought back the little teapot to refresh his glass, “If I don’t get these urges out of my system, I’m gonna end up killing someone.”

That hint of grudge in his voice... It was so obvious and borderline scary. When he turned to you, you saw something glinting in his eyes.

“It’s just between you and me, though. Nobody can know.”

“Of course. Mum’s the word.”

He broke into his calm smile again and reached for your cup to refill it.

“How come you’re not getting any complaints? You’re a bit… loud.”

“This used to be a guesthouse. There’s no one else residing in this building,” he declared nonchalantly, “Well, apparently besides you.”

Oh, so that’s why.

“Is hedonism working out well for you? Why do you keep doing this?”

“Because I like pleasing people for my own pleasure,” he tilted his head to the side in a way that reminded you so much of his mother, “It’s not just about immediate dopamine release, you see. I also have a thing for complete strangers blindly trusting me.”

“Because you’re a prince?”

“Because I am me.”

“Let me get this straight. So you’re saying you legitimately have a harem going on around here? I thought that was only in the movies.”

“That’s not what it’s called around here, but I happen to borrow our entertainers every now and then.”

A little cliché, huh? Bored princes trying to entertain themselves because they were oh so sick of this life. Because they couldn’t remember the last time they did something for the first time. Now that was a first world problem.

“Is your brother also…?”

“God, no. He’s just a troublemaker on the outside. You slap his hand once, he’ll never do it again,” he leaned into you as if he was giving you a secret, “He’s supposed to be abstaining.”

“Aren’t you?” you shot a maximally judgemental look.

“What mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” his eyes sparkled with that glint again, “Again. Nobody can know.”

“I gave you my word, your grace.”

“I’m forbidding you from calling me that,” he firmly ordered, “Address me with my name.”

“You never gave me your name.”

He actually didn’t need to. You knew what his name was. You heard those women screaming it time and time again like a prayer to a deity. He came close to your face and looked into your eyes like he wanted you to internalize every single letter. Like he wanted to brand them into your soul. Coming from his own mouth, it felt like a brand-new word.

“Hyunjin.”

This was the first time you were seeing him this up close. It was still mind-blowing to witness someone this beautiful in the flesh. The only logical possibility was that all his features were custom-made. Otherwise, it really wasn’t fair game for the rest of the mortals walking this earth.

“Say, what was that thing in the vial?”

His smile grew bigger upon the question like he was expecting it all along, “Liquid aphrodisiac. You like how you’re feeling right now?”

Like? No, that feeling couldn’t be described as like. It felt like you were experiencing tiny orgasms every five seconds, not to mention the intense desire to jump on him right that second that you were fighting hard against.

“One more difference between my brother and me,” Hyunjin gently brushed his fingers against your cheek, “Unlike him, I happen to know the difference between fucking and making love.”

“How so?”

“Experience,” he leisurely threw his arm over your shoulder and started playing with your hair, “If you let me, I can make you cum just by kissing you long enough.”

That pride. The bragging. That fucking ostentatious vanity. 

Hyunjin was actually fucking you right there. He was fucking you with his eyes. He was stripping you with his gaze. He was licking all over your body with his breath. He gently held your chin and pulled it closer to his face.

“Will you let me? Be my princess for tonight?”

There was no way you could find it in you to say no, very much courtesy of whatever sweetener you had with your tea. One touch and you were fucking gone. It was impossible to resist the amount of seductive charm he had. It was like he put you under a spell. He took the way you were staring at his perfect mouth as a yes and took your lips between his.

Hyunjin wasn’t lying. The level of sensuality he kissed you with was so damn high that you could actually have an explosive orgasm from this.

“Come.”

He held your hand to help you up and walked you to his bed, kissing his way into your defenses the entire time.

“I want you to trust me. You're safe here with me. Everything I’ll do is to make you feel good.”

He wrapped one hand around your waist and entangled the fingers of the other in your hair. You completely forgot what words were, just letting yourself get lost in his lips.

“And I promise you will,” he placed a kiss right on that sensitive spot behind your ear, “Just give in to me.”

That wasn’t even a matter of free will. When he kept talking against your skin, whispering ‘my princess’ over and over again in between his kisses, who the fuck were you to possess the willpower to resist him?

“You're perfection, you know?” he laid you down on his bed and hovered over you, “I've had my eyes on you for some time now. And you're finally letting me touch you.”

“You- You did?”

“Yes. People that possess your aura are my weakness,” Hyunjin slowly slid your robe off your shoulders to expose them and continued his tender assault with his lips, “You can kill a man with a snap of your finger, I know it. I just know it.”

He gently removed your nightgown and you shivered at the way the soft fabric brushed against you.

“Such delicate skin. Are you sensitive, princess?”

You felt exposed under him all of a sudden, but he put the robe back on. That along with your underwear were the only pieces of garment on you.

“Keep this on. I know it feels really good against your skin.”

God, this man… Hyunjin was kissing you everywhere. Your lips. Your breasts. Your arms. He was paying so much attention to every inch of your body that it was nothing short of worshipping you. Yet he was being so gentle with you that you couldn’t help but wonder what he could have possibly done to those other women to get them to scream like that.

Your crotch. Your thighs. Your legs.

“You’re fucking kidding me with this.”

His face got all twisted seeing your toe ring again. Just as you were thinking whether it was something that displeased him, you remembered how he gulped when he first noticed it just about an hour ago. As you were replaying that scene in your mind, Hyunjin bit on the ring to take it off and started sucking on your toes.

“I’m gonna make these curl for me so hard. Why are you this fucking beautiful?”

Hyunjin kept kissing your ankles and made his way up to your legs until he finally got comfortable between your legs. He was giving you so much attention that you were oozing, probably staining his sheets in the meantime. He groaned at the sight when he pulled your already ruined underwear to the side. He brushed his thumb against your folds, and the trail your arousal left on his fingers made him absolutely salivate.

“Creamy already. Just the way I like.”

The feeling was anticipated. He was going to make a move to eat you out. His tongue was going to be latched to your clit. Expected. Welcomed. Encouraged.

Yet when he closed his mouth over your pussy, you still jolted.

“Hyunjin—”

“God, you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he contorted his face out of sheer pleasure, “And I've tasted the rarest delicacies known to man.”

“Fuck! Swirl it.”

Hyunjin was used to his playthings staying put and doing as told. The only sounds that would ever come out of them were moans ripping from their throat, either due to pleasure or endurable pain. Either fake as hell, or genuine. He had even heard one of the lieutenants commenting that fucking the concubines in this place should have been considered borderline necrophilia the way they wouldn’t do anything rather than just laying there.

Hyunjin wasn’t used to this. 

He wasn’t used to someone being vocal and talking back to him. He wasn’t used to being instructed, leading him to believe that everything he was doing was already twelve out of ten.

Then again, he had never been with someone who knew what they liked rather than what he liked. He smiled.

“Feels so good, doesn’t it princess?” he softly spoke against your pussy, “Don't be shy. Talk to me more. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

“You’re a bit too good at this.” 

You knew he was smugly grinning the way his cheekbones tensed between your legs.

“But I know you can make me feel better.”

“Better, huh?”

You groaned when he slipped his middle finger inside you.

“How’s this for better?”

“Hook it upwards now.”

“Like that?”

“FUCK, just like that!”

Hyunjin loved watching you crumble under him, but it wasn’t enough. You had to lose your mind for him to deem it acceptable. He went back to munching on your clit to assist the ministrations of his finger.

“You like it there, huh? You love it a bit too much when I do that,” he wiped his mouth clean with the back of his idle hand, “You’re dripping, princess. Do I turn you on that much?”

“Yes. God, yes!”

You could tell where on his body Hyunjin spritzed a few drops of perfume that night—it was his pulse points: wrists, neck, and right behind his ears. You knew that for a fact because the more his heart rate accelerated, the denser the fragrance became, enveloping the entire room within a golden bubble. It was somewhere between sweet and spicy like a decadent concoction of amber and oud. Simply erotic. The aroma traveled through your nostrils to dissolve on your taste buds, giving you an idea what his skin would taste like if you ran your tongue on it. The squelch coming from his slender finger pumping in and out of you were getting more obscene by the second although his ministrations were not rushed at all. Hyunjin was taking his time, relishing the feeling way too much, but the higher you soared, the more you were flowing on his fingers. As if all of that combined wasn’t overwhelming enough, there were too many things stimulating your tactile sense, as well. His soft locks under your touch, his pretty lips covering your pussy, his tongue drawing wet circles on your clit, his warm breath against your folds, his finger inside you, his left hand caressing your inner thigh…

He was nothing but a young god between your legs and you were fucking ascending. This was almost a religious experience the way he took you out of your body before you climaxed. The way you started tensing around him alerted Hyunjin that you were ready to crash into the ground headfirst in his mouth.

“That’s it, let go.” 

“Hyunjin…”

“Moan my name when you cum. Scream it.”

“Hyunjin…”

“Dissolve on my tongue, beautiful.”

His fingering got more fervent and when he started full on making out with your clit, you fucking lost it.

“HYUNJIN!!!”

You never came like that before. All your senses overloaded with nothing but Hyunjin, nothing but the pleasure he was so eager to provide you, and your orgasm went straight to your head as you arched on his bed, holding onto his beautiful locks while riding out the remnants of your climax.

“Came so hard. Got way too high there, huh beautiful?” Hyunjin hovered over your body, plush lips wet with your cum ghosting over your heaving chest, “Just because you came once doesn’t mean I’m finished with you.”

He undid his silk belt with unrushed movements and trapped your body against his frame.

“Do you believe me now when I tell you I'm going to make you feel good?”

You nodded. You didn’t possess a shred of wit to produce a sound other than fading moans. He smiled at how high he was able to get you.

“Do you know what it means to submit, princess?”

You nodded again.

“I’ve trusted you with a secret of mine. Now I wanna share one between you and me.”

He helped you sit up and you briefly saw Hyunjin’s magnificent figure glowing in the moonlight filling the room to the brim like a spotlight. He looked fucking flawless. Then he tied his belt around your eyes.

“All I wanna do is make you feel good,” he whispered while laying you back down, “I don't want you to see me. Feel me instead.”

You heard some rustling, signaling you that Hyunjin was undressing himself. He grabbed your hand and guided it towards his crotch.

“Touch me. Feel how hard you get me.”

“Closer,” you whispered, “I wanna touch your body.”

God, he felt so smooth under your touch. Like marble. Warm marble that had blood running inside of it. You dragged your hand from his chest to his pecs and finally made it to his crotch.

“Feel it,” Hyunjin closed your fingers around his cock, “This is all because of you.”

He felt so warm and firm in your palm that being able to arouse a man this perfect made your pussy throb. He noticed the way you were clenching around nothing with just one touch.

“Closer,” you instructed him again, “I want a taste.”

Hyunjin offered his cock for you to wrap your lips around it. The second your tongue touched him, it elicited a loud moan out of him. You kept swirling your tongue around his length, slowly melting him in your mouth, but the stimulation was nowhere near enough for him.

“Fuck, you turn me on so bad, you have no idea. I can't fucking think straight because of you,” he softly pushed himself deeper into you, “Let me fuck that pretty mouth, beautiful.”

Your hands found their way to his hips, pushing him even closer to you. It was obvious that Hyunjin was trying to restrain himself from snapping and just burying himself down your throat. It felt too good, way too good when you began sucking him.

“Your lips… Fuck my entire life!”

Hyunjin could cum any minute—he was already on the brink of it from the way you were sucking his whole entire soul out of him, but that would be a shame. There were even prettier places on your body his cum could land on. It took an immense amount of willpower, but he managed to stop you. You smiled at him, eyes still seeing nothing but darkness.

“Did you know you taste really good, prince?”

He chuckled. Obviously he knew. He had to.

“You’re gonna submit to me now, princess.”

You nodded. There was some clatter coming from your right side, possibly from his nightstand drawer. Now you didn’t know what to expect, and that anticipation was weirdly arousing.

You felt something cold between your breasts, most likely a piece of metal, and it made you tickle. Not shiver, tickle. You giggled. 

You weren’t able to see it, but it caught Hyunjin off guard. Nobody had ever giggled at the feeling of a knife on them before.

He kept dragging the blunt blade on your skin and then up to your throat, very careful with his movements. Maybe if you saw what it was it could have made you panic, but the feeling was very similar to him dragging a comb on your body. This was just a scene.

He attached his plush lips to your neck, exactly where the blade was just a moment ago. His kisses were very wet. Very warm. Like he was trying to cover the chill of the metal with a soft blanket. He kept ghosting his lips against yours, and you could feel his breath condensing on you.

Then he slowly dragged the blade down your torso and reached the waistband of your underwear. You felt the fabric being cut from the sides, yet your breathing was still steady. He didn’t scare you. 

Hyunjin was not used to the lack of fear during this act. That trust did something to his insides and started messing with his head. He gulped so thickly you could actually hear how dry his throat was.

“No one has ever reacted to me like this.”

“Maybe no one has ever given it a fair chance,” you uttered with a soft voice. You heard him chuckle again.

You heard the opening and closing of the door of the little freezer that was on the corner, then felt Hyunjin climbing back onto the bed. He positioned himself between your legs again, and judging from the way you could feel his breathing on your pussy, now exposed due to your underwear being ripped from the sides, he was at eye level with you.

“Guess what this is.”

When Hyunjin pressed something very cold on your labia, you instinctively flinched at the feeling.

“Is that ice?”

“Depends,” he dragged the frozen mass towards your entrance like he was dipping strawberries in chocolate, “I personally think it’s cream.”

You felt the ice cube barely making it inside you, but rather than pushing it inside, Hyunjin was moving it around like he was cleaning your cum with it. Then you felt him over you, devouring your lips to share one of his lustful kisses along with that piece of ice in his mouth. He could feel the tiniest bit of his sanity getting murdered when you took the ice from his mouth and crushed it between your teeth. It indeed tasted like you. He finally took off the belt from your eyes and locked his gaze with yours.

“You’re the most instant addiction, beautiful.”

You could kiss him for hours. Days. Weeks if he let you. He didn’t feel like a prince at that moment. Just some man, a criminally beautiful man a bit too twisted for his own good due to who knows what he had been through. He traded places with you and laid down on his back. You eyed his nightstand as you straddled him.

“Is that a massage candle?”

“You know what it is?”

“It’s the container,” you reached for the matte black glass harboring a playfully dancing flame in it, “It’s shaped like a beaker. I assume you like this?”

“I really do.”

You dipped your finger into the molten candle, now just warm oil to check the temperature. It smelled so pleasant.

“Do you like direct contact or—?”

“Direct.”

Well, that was fast. Who knew looking from afar that this prince liked fucking people on balconies and getting wax dripped on his naked body? The things people harbored inside them…

You blew the candle out, letting the little white smoke slither around the bed like a ghost haunting the room, and began dripping the wax on his unreal figure. You thought it was maybe hurting him, but Hyunjin kept quietly moaning at the sensation. Then you began spreading the oil all over his chest like you were trying to preserve him in the aroma of desire. You could tell how much he loved the way you were touching him.

“I was right. You can indeed kill a man if you want to, princess,” he sank his teeth into his lips, taking in the sight of you towering over him, “Show me how you do it. Kill me.”

You smiled, but that smile was laced with a tinge of something perverse rather than affection.

“Where do you keep your condoms?”

He looked at his nightstand to signal you where it was. While you were going through the drawer, you witnessed just how much the prince liked to have his little fun from the contents of it.

Too much.

You put on the condom and climbed on top of him again, finally about to satisfy that curiosity of what he would feel like inside you. You positioned his cock against your entrance and slowly sank on him, causing Hyunjin’s eyes to immediately roll back at the sensation.

“Move with me.”

What would he feel like inside you? He would feel like hell and heaven at the same time. 

Hyunjin grabbed your hips and began fucking into you hard from under you. You remembered that rawness. You remembered the way he transformed when he was way too consumed in lust, and it was bleeding through his pretty façade again. His large hand found its way to your throat and started lightly choking you as you kept riding him. While you held onto his wrist with one hand, the fingers of your idle one entangled into his soft locks and pulled on them.

His moans got way louder. 

You had only heard the women before. Not him. And it messed with your head so bad.

“Pull harder. I’m gonna cum so fucking hard,” Hyunjin’s thrusts were as rough as they could be by then, “God, you get me weak as fuck, beautiful!”

You. You got the prince weak as fuck. The prince that kept telling you to give into him. That couldn’t scare you with his little knife trick. And he was asking you to pull his hair harder. If that didn’t mean he was at your mercy right then and there, then what did?

Oh, god.

You clenched around him so hard.

“Fuck, please… If you keep doing that I’ll cum inside.”

He was so far gone that he actually forgot about the condom you put on him. Now was your chance to mess with his head for good.

“What if I want you to? What if I’m trying to trap you, your grace?”

“Do you- Do you want me to-?”

“It was a fucking mistake rawdogging me, you see?” your smile was as deranged as his was, “Now you’re gonna give it to me and give it to me so good.”

“FUCK!”

Hyunjin indeed came so hard and so much, frantically convulsing under you as waves after waves of his orgasm washed over him. You could actually feel the condom being filled to the brim inside of you. Once he managed to come down, you placed a kiss on his forehead to let him sleep and go back to your own room, but the second your feet touched the ground, Hyunjin did something he had never done before. He instantly grabbed your wrist like he was holding on for dear life and pulled you back to bed, his chest flush against your back and his arms wrapped around you. It felt like his bed was the night sky and he was the full moon, and it was indeed really pretty that night.

“Sleep in my arms tonight, princess.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE

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I apologize if this chapter required an intense desire to shower immediately. It will happen again.

If you enjoyed this story, feel free to share your thoughts with me in reblogs, tags, or in my inbox. As long as you're kind, that is.

-R. (CB97%)

📢Regarding tagging: Just a reminder that I do not tag ageless and/or blank blogs, nor can I tag you if your blog is listed as "invisible" / if you've changed your URL and didn't let me know. Thank you for your cooperation in advance!

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[clovrecs]

hi hi hard hanji thought based on this pic bc my brain acc basically stopped working when i saw it but anyways imagine being out with han (bf!han) at some event and idk u do sth to piss him off (on purpose) somehow and he just gives u that glare and when u get home basically fucks ur brains out😵‍💫 (for anything in between my mind literally went blank i’m sorry TT) qjrxdgvdh i feel like this is such an awkward ask/request (???) bc the thought is so incomplete and basic and i cannot put it in words properly at all but anyways i hope it makes sense :p

also since i’m already writing this i felt like i should mention that i love ur writing sm it’s so good!!!!

i just want to personally thank you for sending this in and being so patient with me as i wrote this. i...popped off a bit. oops-

Strawberry Lipgloss

han jisung x reader

word count: 3.9k

genre: smut - MINORS DNI

warnings: hard/mean dom!jisung, bratty sub!reader, marking, possessive reader AND jisung, mentions of oral (m/f receiving), teasing, mentions of food and alcohol, public teasing, bondage, impact play (jisung's hand, no toys involved), humiliation and degradation - not CRAZY but elements are there, unprotected sex (how about we don't irl), choking, creampie, jisung being super SUPER M E A N but also the sweetest bf ever. i think that's it? if i missed anything - PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: everyone benefits from making jisung angry.

a/n: hi all! i'm so sorry i've been kinda mia recently. i've been really sick and have started a new job, and have been a teeny bit overwhelmed. i hope to become more active as i start to feel better.

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents han jisung as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi, @woahfruity, @isilentprincess, @hugs4chan, @stranger-thighs, @beautifulcolorgarden, @scottmcallisdaddy, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @raspbinniecreme

There were a multitude of reasons why you loved Jisung. Some were small, like the way he rubs his eyes when he’s sleepy, trying to get his watery, tired eyes to wake up. Some were big, like the way he knows exactly how to comfort you when the world becomes too much. It was a never ending list, extending daily to add the new little things that make you fall head over heels for him again and again.

But something you really loved, even though slightly unconventional, was how easy it was to rile your boyfriend up. It was almost effortless (the thought of you in his dress shirt still gives him a semi if he thinks about it too long), something easy to do that always gave you exactly what you wanted.

Key word: almost.

Because today, it was almost impossible to do so, no matter how hard you tried.

Your attempts started early in the morning. Neither of you had alarms set, the only thing you had to do that day in the late evening, so you had plenty of time to spend together in bed. Your eyes felt a little heavy as you opened them up, body wiggling to stretch the sleep out as you emerged from slumber. It was earlier than you would like - clock reading just past 8:00 - but now that you were up, it was impossible to fall back asleep.

Rolling over in the cotton sheets, you find the body you had moved away from in your sleep. Jisung laid flat on his back, brown hair a cloud of staticky fluff on the white pillowcase. His lips were parted, letting everything from little snores to drool dribble out. The duvet sat low on his chest, bare skin glowing in the sunlight that was breaking through the closed curtains. He was the picture of a peace right now; breathing even and eyelids twitching with dreams. It was such a sweet sight.

Too bad you couldn’t focus on that right now.

Instead your eyes fell to the dark marks left across his collarbones. Freshly made, they had turned purple overnight and looked so pretty peppered across his skin. You didn’t even notice that you were biting down on him at first. It wasn’t until Jisung groaned out, head rolling back as you began to bounce harder on his dick.

“Fuck, I love when you bite me like that.” Nails dug into your hips as he leaned back in his desk chair, moaning into the empty studio. 

His words only spurred you to bite him more. To mark him up and claim him as yours, as if there were any question as to who Jisung “belonged” to. 

You curled into his side, kissing his shoulder lazily as you got comfortable. Still sleeping, his lifts his arm, wrapping it around you and pulling you in so you’re flush to his body. He mumbles a bit before falling silent again, the only sound his deep breaths. 

Almost envious of his ability to sleep so heavy, you began to trace the ridges of his chest that weren’t tucked under the covers. You took your time, covering every inch of exposed skin before moving up to the small bruises. His collarbones were already his weak spot, and now with the added bruises, they were much more sensitive. Just the soft brush of your fingertips made your sleeping boyfriend moan lowly, shifting slightly as he began to stir.

You really should let him sleep. It’s going to be such a long day, it’s almost unfair to wake him up.

But the ache between your legs still made you shake, muscles worn out and begging for more. If you had to suffer, so did he. Isn’t that what relationships are all about? Mutual suffering?

A few more strokes to his collarbones and Jisung began to wake, grunting softly as his eyes fluttered open. His eyes were narrowed with confusion and exhaustion, hands clenched into fists as he rubbed them.

“What time is it?” His voice was low, raspy with sleep and lack of use. You always thought he sounded prettier in the mornings, the fire in your core sparking happily at his tone.

“About 8:15.” You whisper, moving your hand down his chest. This time you slipped under the covers, drawing a line with your fingertips all the way to his belly button before following it back up. “You sleep okay?”

He mumbled a yes, dropping his hands back to his side. “‘M still a little sleepy.”

Pouting, you apologize softly, daring to cover more of his torso with your hand. It had to be obvious what you wanted; even with sleep lingering in his mind, Jisung had to know that you wanted him. That you needed a remedy to the soreness in your inner thighs. “Do you want to go back to sleep?” You ask, giving him an out if he wanted to take it. 

When he shook his head, your heart leaped into your throat, pounding like it was going to escape. Up and all yours now, your mind began to wander with thoughts of where the morning to go. Maybe Jisung would let you give him head, his fingers tangled in your hair as you lazily pleased him with your tongue. Maybe he’ll give you head, a tight grip on your outer thighs to keep you against his face. Maybe-

“I really need to work on a project.” He says, rolling on his side as he pushes himself out of bed. “Especially since we have that dinner tonight.”

You’re a little stunned; Jisung never willingly gets out of bed this early in the morning. You thought the odds were in your favor, the early hour and teasing seemed like the perfect equation for some lazy morning sex. Seeing your boyfriend stretch his arms up, waking himself up more, made your heart return to its normal spot. A slight disappointment filled your chest at the rejection. You know he knew what you were thinking - the bump in his boxer briefs were evidence enough - and he indirectly told you no. Usually the slight teasing would be enough. Usually his resolve would break without you really having to try.

“I’m going to hop in the shower and order breakfast. What do you want?”

You were actually going to have to put in work today. “Can I shower with you?”

The loving smile on his face made you feel warm and fuzzy. A large hand cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone as he looked down at you fondly. You nuzzle into his hand, turning slightly so your lips could brush against the palm of it.

“You really should rest, baby.” His tone had a hint of amusement. “We have a big day today.”

Jisung left no room for argument, removing the hand from your face and making his way to the en-suite bathroom, leaving you stunned.

The rest of the day was filled with similar rejections; he really had to finish this track, the phone call with Chan was going on longer than he expected, Felix just really wanted to play games right now. By the afternoon, he had a slight smirk with every excuse, dismissing your efforts before you really even tried. It was becoming obvious that, just like you were setting out to tease him, he was doing the same to you. Before you knew it, it had become a competition: who could push the other to their breaking point first?

And fuck, you were determined to win.

You sat in the passenger seat of Jisung’s car, legs pulled up and tucked under you. The last three attempts to throw him off left you feeling defeated, debating on giving up and begging him for what you want. 

His hand nudged your knee, slipping in between your pressed together legs. It rested on your lower thigh, squeezing lightly. “What’s on your mind, love?”

Locking your phone, you slipped it into the cup holder before giving your boyfriend your attention. He looked fucking good. A crisp, white dress shirt tucked into tight black slacks, the top few buttons undone and exposing the skin there. His jacket was thrown into the backseat, waiting to be worn once the two of you finally arrived. Your lips parted, a response on the tip of your tongue when you noticed something.

The way the collar of his shirt fell, with the buttons popped open, gave a peek of purple skin. Of faded bite marks.

And then you saw his grin. Wide, wolffish, reveling in his win. 

“You’re not playing fair.” You said with a huff, pushing his hand off of you. 

Jisung chuckles, bringing the banished hand to the steering wheel. That stupid fucking grin on his face just pisses you off more. “I don’t know what you mean.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, a new determination sparking in your lower belly. There was no way you were giving up now. If he wanted to play dirty, so could you. 

//

You really pissed him off this time.

Like, seriously. You’ve never seen your boyfriend so angry, eyes so dark the flame behind them isn’t even visible. His tongue was pushed against the inside of his cheek, and by the way his jaw was clenched, you could guess he was biting down on the muscle as well.

He was mad. Madder than mad - he was livid. Furious. Irate. Whatever word you wanted to use to express his anger, it wasn’t strong enough.

And god, that made you so giddy, you were practically bouncing out of your seat. 

Dinner started off fine — an unspoken peace as the competition was put on hold for the time being. You were there to celebrate Seungmin’s engagement, not to tease each other to the point of breaking. It was such an important event, you were willing to put everything on hold for your friend.

But Jisung haaaaaad to open his damn mouth.

The two of you sat at the edge of the large table, the champagne bottle making its way down. Finally arriving at your end, Jisung takes the bottle from Minho, shifting in his seat to pour your glass first. Maybe it was the way he was angled, maybe it was the lack of coverage, but more the marks you made began to show.

Minho chuckles softly, only loud enough for the three of you to hear. “Long night?”

Jisung looked up at his friend quizzically as he moved to fill his glass. “What?” With a nod of his head, your boyfriend’s attention was brought down to his upper chest. You hated the way his head popped back up, giving you that stupid fucking grin again before looking back at his friend. “More like afternoon.”

It really wasn’t much, just a suggestive statement that made Minho roll his eyes and scrunch his nose, but it was enough to make up your mind. Fuck the “truce”. You never liked to play fair anyway.

Slow and steady wins the race. Or rather, soft and gentle strokes to the inside of your boyfriend’s thighs add kindle to the smoldering fire in his core. Resting your head on his shoulder, it appears as if you’re just being affectionate. Jisung takes it that way, even turning to place a kiss on the tip of your head. Then your strokes slow down, inching higher and higher up his leg. Right as your touch barely brushed his crotch, he grabs your hand and forcefully puts it in your own lap.

“Not here.” He whispers, giving you a warning glance through the corners of his eyes. The unamusement in his stare couldn’t be more evident.

Jisung was blissfully unaware that he just gave you exactly what you wanted. The seed of annoyance was planted, and all you had to do was water it. 

Between the meal itself and dessert, you succeeded in making him progressively more annoyed. The fact that his friends were all close by, and could potentially witness what you’re doing, helped the plant bloom. There was just one more thing you needed to do to set him off completely. 

You slipped away to the bathroom without even being noticed, back less than five minutes later. The dessert had made it to the table, yours sitting untouched while Jisung was slowly savoring his chocolate cake.

“Good?” You ask as you slid back into your seat.

Jisung nods, eyes sparkling with delight from the deliciousness of his dessert. “So good. Do you want a-“

His offer was cut short by you not-so-subtly dropping your black lace panties in his lap. Right in the middle of his chewing. Right in front of the entire party, who just happened to not be looking in your direction.

Jisung didn’t finish his dessert.

The second the check was paid, he was grabbing you by the wrist, throwing a pathetic excuse to his friends as to why you were leaving early. It didn’t take a detective to figure out why he was all but dragging you out of the restaurant. His anger has to be taken out somehow, why not on the person who caused it?

Not a word was spoken the entire thirty minute car ride. Jisung had an iron grip on the wheel, pressing down on the accelerator to up the speed. He didn’t once look at you, to focused on getting fuck home and getting you the fuck out of that dress.

The second the car was parked in the garage, he reached across the console to grab the nape of your neck, pulling you over so his lips could crash against your own. The kiss is aggressive, his tongue forcing your lips to part to slide inside your mouth. Jisung swallows the soft moans you make, nails digging into your neck as he messily devours you.

He breaks the kiss with a pop, lips swelling a bit and stained with your strawberry lip gloss. “To the bedroom. Now.” Voice gruff, the tone was scary enough for you to scramble out of the car, rushing to get inside as quickly as possible.

You’re stripping in the hallway, a trail of items leading through the house to the bedroom. As giddy as you were that you fucking won, the idea of making him angrier sent a cold chill down your spine. 

When you get to the bedroom, you’re dressed only in your bra and panties, falling to your knees on the hardwood floor. You’re facing the door, ready to wait for as long as you need to for him. Waiting for hours seemed very doable when waiting for your well deserved prize.

But, luckily for you, the drive (and your attitude) took all of Jisung’s patience. Less than forty-five seconds on your knees and the door busts open. His shirt was mostly unbuttoned now, belt wrapped around his balled fist.

Oh.

Making him angrier wasn’t even an option. He was past the point of return.

The hand that isn’t holding the belt quickly finds your hair, fisting it as he pulls you up. “Do you think you’re fucking funny? Messing with me like that in public? In front of my friends?” Jisung drags you a short distance to the bed, manhandling you until you’re lying flat on your stomach. You feel your legs shaking already — not from his words, not from the rough way he moved you around. But from the even tone of his voice, no louder than his speaking tone.

Jisung’s not yelling. Jisung seems very composed.

That’s terrifying in the best possible way.

“I asked you a question.” He growls, grabbing your wrist and bringing them behind your back. “Fucking answer me.”

“Yes.” You say, and the way your voice is already a bit shaky makes Jisung even more determined to break you. “Yes, I thought it was funny.”

He hums, and you feel the cool leather of his belt wrap around your wrist. Tugging tightly, he binds your hand with the belt. “Are you sorry?”

You know it’s a trick question, one set up for you to fail. Say yes, and he thinks you’re lying and punishes you. Say no, and he’ll punish you. It’s a lose/lose for you — no matter what is said, the end result is exactly the same.

Thinking it’ll lessen the punishment: “Yes. I’m so sorry, sir.”

As expected, Jisung chuckles, grabbing onto your bindings for support as he roughly slams a palm to your right ass cheek. “I don’t believe you.” Another slap, harder than the first. “You’ve been playing your stupid little game all day-“

“So were you!”

The third slap echos, sound bouncing around the bedroom. Already your skin is tingling. “The only thing I should hear are your begs for forgiveness. Otherwise, shut the fuck up.”

You really thought you didn’t want to piss him off more. That there was a line you didn’t want to cross with him today. But that went out the window fairly quickly. You stomp your foot defiantly, and when he looks up at your turned head, you stick your tongue out at him.

It was a mistake, but a great one.

He strikes down again. And again. And again, all on the same side until you’re squirming up the bed. Then he moves to the other, hits heavier than the ones before that. You tried to keep a tally of how many slaps to the ass you had taken, but you quickly lost it. He was speeding up, determined to make you feel his anger. You were doomed from the moment you decided to play today.

Jisung didn’t stop until your mouth was parted, jaw hanging and tears pricking your water line. His hand was vibrating, the strength he put behind the impact surprising even him.

“Are you sorry now?” 

You nod your head quickly, lips trembling as the first tear fell from your eyes. “Yes. I’m so sorry, sir. I’m so fucking sorry-“

Fisting your hair yet again, he pulls your head up, a breathy moan leaving your lips. His face is close to yours, watching the steady stream of tears roll down your cheek. You feel small under his gaze, eyes shutting to try and hide from it.

Your face felt wet. And not from your tears.

Slowly, you open your eyes to find Jisung licking your tears away. His tongue followed the trail of tears, cleaning both sides of your face and catching the new ones that broke.

“Good.” He whispers before pressing a kiss to your flush cheeks, the leftover lipgloss sticking to your sweaty skin. “You should be.”

He drops your head, smiling at the way it bounced a little on the mattress. You can’t see what he’s doing, but can feel it in the way he rips your panties off, kicking your ankles to spread your legs. You feel it in the way the head of his cock runs through your folds, spreading your slick all over.

“This wet? From a few spanks?” He scoffs, the way you shrink in embarrassment only serving to make his cock throb. “That's pathetic.”

You want to snap back, to put up a fight, but every last instinct to argue leaves your body as Jisung forcefully thrusts inside you. He only goes about halfway before pulling back out, setting a shallow but rough pace right off the bat.

The slight stretch makes you hiss, but the way he glides so easily in and out of you feels absolutely incredible. 

Incredible, but not nearly enough. 

The need to be full of him takes over, making a new fight build up in your chest. Though your eyes are still watering, and you’re a little shaky, you muster the last bit of boldness you have to speak up.

“Is this really all you’ve got?” You huff out, trying to hide the unsteadiness in your voice. “That’s pathetic.”

Jisung stills, cock only a third of the way inside of you. For a brief moment, you worry that you’ve done too much. That you’ve pushed him too far.

Then he’s hauling you up, pressing your back against his chest with a hand closing around your throat. The swallow thrusts become deep, the rough pace becoming damn near animalistic. He’s deeper than you think he’s ever been, hitting parts of you that you didn’t think existed.

Pissing Jisung off was never a mistake when this was the outcome.

“I’ve fucking had it with you.” He hisses in your ear, words barely audible over the beautiful melody of your full moans and his skin hitting yours. “With you, and your bratty fucking attitude.”

The hand around your throat tightens, making your eyes flutter shut. Yellow stars bounce around, the fullness you feel is mouthwatering. You feel the drool roll off your lips, down your chin and pool on Jisung’s hand. 

It’s everything. It’s the feeling of being filled to the birm, the constriction of his hand around your throat, the tip of his cock abusing your sweet spot. It’s Jisung. It’s all making you dumb, vocabulary leaving your head as the only thing you can do is pant and moan and cry out his name.

“J-Jisung.” You moan out, hands wrapping around the wrist that’s choking you. The feeling of your nails digging into his skin makes him hiss; lifting his knee up and resting it on the bed to pound into you even harder.

“Say it again.” If you weren’t near incoherent, you would hear how unstable his voice has gotten. Less commanding and more whiny, the tell-tale sign of an impending orgasm. “Tell me who you fucking belong to.”

“Jisung.” 

“Who?” His voice is close to a yell, rivaling your moans in volume.

“Jisung! You, fuck-fucking you, Jisung!” You’re screaming, throat raw from how loud you’ve begun to shout his name. 

Using the hand around your throat, he turns your head and kisses you. It’s nothing but tongue and teeth, a sloppy mess that rivals his thrusts. He feels your walls fluttering around him, but can’t slow down. Won’t slow down. Both of your highs as rapid as his pace.

What pushes Jisung over the edge is when his tongue moves across your bottom lip. He can taste your tears, your drool.

Your strawberry lip gloss.

With a deep moan of your name, Jisung cums first. It’s hard and plenty, the amount of warm cum spurting inside you so hard, almost making him lose balance. Your climax hits shortly after, just as much of a mess as his. The feeling of his release, mixed with yourself, is dizzying.

The hand on your throat moves to cup your cheek, pulling you in for a softer kiss as Jisung pulls out of you. Immediately, your legs start trembling, unable to hold yourself up without his assistance.

“I love you.” He whispers against your lips, affirming his statement with another soft kiss. “I love you so much, baby.”

You tiredly smile, letting Jisung pepper sweet kisses across your tear stained face. It’s incredible how quickly his persona changes — once the mean, hard dom, now the loving, gentle boy you fell in love with.

“I love you.” You mumble, relishing the way his lips feel on your face.

There were a multitude of reasons why Jisung loved you. Some were small, like the endearing way you leave your socks lying around the house. Some were big, like the way you squeeze his hand gently when he’s starting to get overwhelmed in public, a reminder that you’re always there for him. It was a never ending list, new things being tacked on as he falls deeper in love with you.

But Jisung really loves the way you challenge him, always ready to fight him for what you want. And today was the perfect example.

©: chvnnie 2022