deffleur

[deffleur]

amour | a lim jaebeom imagine

— japan’s sengoku period au

possibly multiple parts to this.

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the sky began to morph into a gentle marmalade, autumn’s fingertips weaved through the apricot leaves and her breath spun pirouettes throughout the atmosphere, kissing the cheeks of whomever remained wandering the streets of the village. the young woman’s bright scarlet nose ran due to autumn’s unforgiving chilly breath, the air frosting ice over the surface of her skin.

the locks of her ringlets flew behind her, the pads of her fingers burrowing into the silk of her kimono to keep the material in place. cold tears brimmed the outskirts of her eyelids and her throat burned with excruciating flames, as if autumn had simply taken a match and threw it down her throat.

yet, she paid her pain no mind. agonizing as it was, her feet moved nimbly against the village’s pavement, her head bowing in greeting to the reverent villagers’ salutes as she passed by. she grimaced herself discreetly, veiling her expression behind her own tresses.

she should have known it would be hard to lay low and saunter through the streets unnoticed— she was the chatelaine of lord jinyoung after all. the whole village knew of her, knew of how she had single handedly saved their lord— her popularity was practically inevitable.

perhaps, if underneath different circumstances, she wouldn’t have minded the sudden traction, after all— who wouldn’t fancy being the talk of the town?

of course she wouldn’t have minded— if she hadn’t been trying to sneak around.

it wasn’t an easy task, even disregarding the fact that she would have to mindlessly amble in front of the entire village with every single person on the street ecstatically exclaiming her name. indeed, it was definitely not easy to manage her way past lord jinyoung’s vassals, as well as lord jinyoung herself.

difficult, that man was. he was quite the unopened novel, his story a million pages long at least. throughout her time as his chatelaine, she had made countless attempts to figure him out, desperately trying to open the cover of his book. alas, it was as if he had sealed himself away, thick chains and heavy locks around the surface of his novel.

even so, there was one thing that he had made clear from the very start of her occupancy as his chatelaine.

“my lucky charm, you are,” he had said, a cheshire smile plastering over his lips, which up until this moment, had always been pressed into a firm thin line. “i believe that as long as you are at my side, never will i fail. i believe that because you are at my side, i will succeed in unifying this entire nation.”

she scoffed at the mere memory. what a chore, he was.

swiftly, she disregarded the thought of her lord jinyoung, disregarded her occupancy as his chatelaine, disregarded her castle life and everything related and in between. as she scuttled into the inn and nimbly made her way through the rather unimpressive corridors compared to the castle’s, her mind became a murky slime, her brain intoxicated by the sound of merely one name.

jaebeom. jaebeom. jaebeom. jaebeom. jaebeom.

she made her presence known with a quiet knock on the shōji screen door, brisk to tear it away, as it was the only barrier blockading her away from him— the only one she craved.

and there he sat, his weapons and armor stowed away in a dark corner of the inn room, charcoal silk sewn into a kimono complimenting his physique as sat upright on the futon, the tips of his fingers teasing at his lips as his elbow rested upon his kneecap. her feet shifted underneath her weight as she stood in front of the shōji, her insides churning at the mere sight of him.

“i’ve been waiting,” his tone low, laced with the hint of something menacing, a sinister echo concluding his words. she shivered, as if his voice was ice, the bitter feeling of frost stiffening her limbs gluing her into place.

he must’ve sensed the sudden discomfiture, the unveiling of his pearly whites prodding at her nerves, knees visibly buckling underneath the putty her legs seemed to melt into. he watched with curious eyes as she scurried over to his place on the futon, hastily dropping to her knees before him.

the gleam inside the ebony of his pupils did not go unnoticed. she felt meek, feeble even as his leering eyes fell upon her like a minacious shadow, irises outlining her figure, seeking every curve and venturing through every mark he had mapped out on her body. he leaned forward, stature eclipsing the small matrix of light from the candle, the only thing keeping the small room from complete darkness.

her skin swelled with heat as his fingertips ghosted over her clothed skin, toying with the fabric of her kimono. the room was quiet— with the exception of her shuddering breath permeating the heated atmosphere between the two. the air was thick with unequivocal libido, the fog of lust that came thick with each of his chest enough to weigh heavy on her own lungs, so much she could have sworn that she would simply suffocate.

“i apologize for having kept you waiting, lord jaebeom,” her voice wavered, her feeble tone strumming his strings, a stroke of laughter emitting from his lips. her cheeks-- which had already been tinted with a bright scarlet-- darkened, ripples of crimson waving over her flesh. the pad of his index finger waltzed over her skin, outlining the edge of her jawline, pirouetting back up to the soft flesh of her ear.

with the same finger, he beckoned her forward, eyelids hooding over the warm umber of his irises, the sinister shadow cast upon his face as menacing as ever. her nerves tied themselves into miniature, twitching balls-- and never before had she ever felt this meek.

“enough with the formalities,” his tone echoed-- not only throughout the room, but throughout her body as well, the smooth water that was his voice rippling throughout her mind, trickling down her esophagus as if it were a waterfall, and flooding her core, burning her arousal with a bittersweet passion. the heat at her center was utterly unbearable, the matches of his fingertips driving her closer to the point of no return. “i plan on wasting no more time, tonight, i want you-- all of you.”

it was silly how she had already been left speechless, breathless even, when he had done something only as simple as graze a single digit over her skin. she scolded herself mentally for being so vulnerable, so submissive and willing. however, the more he touched her and cooed, the more she could feel herself sink deeper and deeper into this void of subservience, blinded by the darkness of his lust.

he advanced closer, striding like an eager predator until he neared his prey, making it to his destination. for a moment-- just this moment-- she disregarded the fact that he was supposed to be her enemy, that he was a trespasser, that he was a blood-thirsty lord, lord mark’s-- of all people--’s most sensible and reliable vassal. for just the current moment, she disregarded the fact that the blood of a century ran down his hands, that many men of various classes and titles have been at the mercy of the very man she had a blooming fondness for. for a moment, she disregarded the fact that the very hands touching her so tenderly right now were the very hands responsible for the deaths of many men.

as she gazed into the menacing sea of carob that raged within his irises, she found herself swimming through the very sea, eager to venture for more-- more of him. his pupils glimmered, gleams beaming reflecting onto his waters as though a comet had been shooting past his night sky. beautiful-- he was undeniably, utterly beautiful.

he stared back, and for a moment, she was so entranced underneath whatever spell he had cast upon her, that she hadn’t even the slightest idea that he had worked the silk of her kimono down past her shoulders, the smooth material gliding its way down her arms to pool at her thighs. his fingertips were of matches, each stroke of his hot skin leaving trails of burning scarlet along her flesh, igniting flames and scarring her with the remnants of his own selfish ardor.

his matches reached her swollen nipples, her lips falling agape at the simple touch of his skin against her own, eyelids weighing down heavy upon her corneas before they eventually sealed themselves closed, losing herself in this wondrous feeling.

“please, do not close your eyes,” he husked, fingertips grazing an astray strand of hair back behind her ear as his other hand roamed the side of her body, soothing over the curve of her hip. her lids slowly heaved themselves back open, melted irises flooding into his. just staring at the look inside of his eyes reduced her to a gooey pool of magma at his feet. “i’ve been deprived of them for so long, please don’t veil them away from me. i want to cherish every single part of you.”

the arch of his hand curved as it reached to cup her cheek, tugging her even closer than before. his lips-- plump and lush-- were nearing, their breaths mingling until they became one in the same. his eyes-- they glimmered with the radiance of something that up until this point, had been foreign to her, an enigma-- he was an enigma in itself. but no longer was he an enigma, for she was certain that she finally had him all figured him out.

his pupils sparkled with desperation, of longing, of need. the message was crystal clear before her, no words to be required. before her lips could even finish their smile, his lips were upon her own, their dampened flesh molding into one. his nectar fell from his mouth and streamed into her own, his flavor soaking her taste buds and mixing into her own. her arms leaped away from her lap, enclosing around his neck and pulling him in even closer-- as if it were possible.

she was entranced, bewitched, mesmerized by his spell, she wasn’t even sure when he had laid her down on the futon, the plush of the thin mattress beneath her relaxing the knots of tension within her body. his hands continued their venture, mapping out each mark and delicacy upon her skin, as if the first few times he had done so were not enough. she worked at the charcoal colored silk of his own robe, itching to tear it away from his skin so that once more, their skin could connect, mold together, become one.

“jaebeom,” she mewled his name as his growing erection grazed against her nude arousal, sucking in air between her teeth as his lips tore themselves away from hers, imprinting his mark on the flesh just below her jaw. her fingertips weaved themselves through the forest of ebony tendrils atop his head, tugging at the roots of his tresses, as if her goal was to rip his scalp off from the top of his own head. “jaebeom!”

his lips trod down the valley of her breasts, down the river stream of her stomach until finally, they found their destination at the heated bundle of nerves, teasing just above her clitoris. noises spewed from her lips, her tongue swiping over the flesh of her bottom lip before her upper layer of teeth replaced the soft muscle, gnawing on the moist skin.

“i love you, my princess,” he murmured, his tone a low hum, his hot breath against her throbbing clit driving her over the edge. she was unable to control herself, she had become animalistic, obsessed with the idea of having him close, of having the two of them become one. she yearned for more, she wanted more, she needed more.

and with one kiss against her heated arousal, she even began to ache for more-- so much it began to hurt.

“i love you,” she broke into a soft, quiet cry, streams of tears rippling down her face. he glanced up, lips curling into a soft smile as a chuckle emitted from his lips. a hand of his ascended until it reached her cheeks, the back of his index finger swift to swipe away her droplets of tears. she sniffled, skin sticky with the remnants of her own tears. “please amour, engrave me with the memory of you.”

yet another chuckle slipped past his lips as he straightened his posture, sliding the ashy robe the remainder of the way down his arms until he too sat before her-- completely nude, his everything exposed to her--

-- and only her.

“what would your lord jinyoung think when he sees the mark of another man upon your skin, hm?” he rasped as drew nearer, teasing her aching cunt with a single prod of his cock. she whimpered, mewled, squirmed, writhed around underneath his weight as the tip of his tongue lapped over the sensitive flesh of her earlobe, icy breath a stark contrast to the heat of their skin. she shivered as his air fanned over the place he had just coated with his own saliva, her head shaking.

“i don’t give a damn,” she had been so out of breath, it had barely been audible enough to decipher. his irises-- those hypnotizing irises of dark umber-- gazed down into her own yet again, and yet again, did she feel herself sink deeper into the rabbit hole of intimacy. “i am his chatelaine, nothing more. why would he care?”

his smile was blinding, hypnotic enough to make her unaware of the fact that his cock had been ripping through the entrance of her throbbing cunt, her face only morphing into one of pure ecstasy a couple of skipped heartbeats later. she mewled his name, the bridge of his nose tucking itself into the crook of her neck. she shuddered underneath his weight, arms tight around his neck.

“right,” he murmured amongst the series of pleasured groans permeating the inn. “right, he wouldn’t.”

[deffleur]

slow dancing in the dark | wonho

— slight tw for a brief mention of self harm.

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he let himself slip deeper into the water, the waves rippling against the top of his chin, teasing at his swollen lips. his eyelids hooded over his irises, vision blurring with each blink. the ache in his head was unbearable, enough to make him want to act out— scream, rip hair out of his scalp, kick everything down in sight, punch holes into the wall— and for a moment, he imagined himself doing these things, even psyching himself out, tricking himself into thinking he really was lashing out.

in actuality, he remained still in the bathtub, the water not even able to move anymore due to his stillness. his fingernails burrowed into the skin of his thighs, continuing to puncture deeper, despite the stinging sensation that began to spread throughout his flesh like a wildfire. his head lolled backwards, neck folding over the side of the bathtub, matrixes of light from the ceiling dotting colors into his vision.

he wanted so desperately to close his eyes, to sink further into the water, to go to sleep. yet, every time his eyelids sealed themselves shut, every time he strives to put his mind at peace, all he sees is her— her looking at him like he was somebody else.

his fingers curled, nails tearing through his own skin, eager to rip through his flesh. his teeth gnawed at the flesh of the inside of his cheek, fingernails breaking away from his skin to make their ascent to his face, eyelids squeezing themselves shut, so tight that stars began to shimmer in the darkness.

images of her, the look inside of her irises he had become accustomed to, her frame, her smile— the same smile she’d give someone else— flashed through his mind, each painful thought and memory attached flooding throughout his head like a tidal wave. the perilous sea rocked back and forth within his brain, the ache in his head never feeling worse.

the heels of his hands thrusted against his forehead, fingertips tugging at his bleach blonde ringlets as he pulled, his mind like a rubber band. he was close to be pulled too hard, he was close to snapping— and with each memory of her that waltzed past his closed eyelids, he felt himself inching closer and closer to the edge. he was at the brink of breaking— breaking down—, he was now closer to the dark than ever before.

his fingers curled into a ball, fists trembling and glowing scarlet as they threw themselves into the water, ovals of bath water splashing every which direction, droplets pooling at the bathroom floor. his lips fell agape, low, raspy, husked sobs emitting from his chest, the sting of hot tears sliding down his face adding onto the many reasons why he was in utter agony.

he sunk deeper into the bath water, the waves rippling up and over his mouth, his cries now muffled, guttural even. her voice whispered little sweet nothings into his ear, permeating his brain, an attempt to trap him back inside of the paradox he had let himself fall into. he thrashed his knuckles against his ears, vociferating his pleas for mercy, begging for an end to all of this— to all of this pain.

it wasn’t long until his bathroom seemed to melt away from his vision, no longer was he nude nor in the bathtub, surrounded by dirtied water. he now stood in a room of ebony, the beat of a harsh, deep drum resonating the room, the sound rattling his bones, giving him somewhat of an uneasy yet pleasant feeling. smoke and fog pooled at his feet, the rest of the room’s floor covered with the haze.

he was uncertain of what it was that had came over him, yet, he almost felt like his limbs were attached to strings, an unknown puppeteer the holder of his reins, having their way with him. his body moved without his mind even processing it, his arms moved forcefully yet, somehow still gracefully.

her voice pounded against his eardrums as it imbued the room of pure ebony, her giggle, her mediocre singing voice, the melody of her sweet nothings the beat he slow danced alone to. the familiar feeling of heated tears brimming the outskirts of his eyelids stung, his eyelids squeezing themselves shut.

a presence— he could feel it— stood beside him, the beat of the drum seemingly quieting in the mysterious person’s wake. he didn’t dare open his eyelids, in fear of seeing the person who was the very cause of this pain.

“hoseok, dance with me.”

his chest heaved and for a moment, the room was silent, with the exception of the sound of his low, guttural, heavy breathing. air stuttered as it stumbled away from his dried and chapped lips, the bitter feeling of his heart thumping against his chest burning his skin, he could feel it being set ablaze, as if she held a match, and intended to set wildfires within him.

his clenching fists outstretched as he stood straighter, his back bending the other way, his chest held high towards the unnoticeable ceiling of the room of ebony, his knees bending as they trembled. his lips fell agape once again, and no longer did he pay attention to the feeling of the chapped flesh breaking apart, blood streaming from the cracks.

his scream imbued the room, the beat of the dark, low drum louder than ever before as if it strived to overpower his screaming and silence him. no longer would he let himself be silenced, not even when the feeling of her beside him reappeared, a hand grasping at his shoulder as the other— clenching into a shaking ball of fury— lurched forward towards his back. she held a blade, the tip glistening without a single light upon it.

her knife tore through his skin and left a stinging sensation, yet the pain he felt within himself left a bigger wound. he was tired of constantly being stabbed in the back by her, no longer could he let himself continue to be hurt by her, no matter how strong the desire to engulf himself in the warmth of her arms was.

he was tired of constantly letting himself feel lesser than for someone else, despite how much he loved her.

he no longer wanted to slow dance in the dark. he wanted to be free.