napofawhalien

[napofawhalien]

— nudes?! (k.th) ♡

pairing: kang taehyun x fem!reader genre: best friends to ?, non-idol au, suggestive rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1.4k warnings: mention/description of reader's nudes, mention of reader in lingerie, implication of sexy time at the end, tyun gets hard and is v clear abt what he wants, they’re both horny asf synopsis: what happens when your best friend who secretly has the hots for you accidentally sees your nudes?

requested forever ago by @mapofthemazeinthemirror <3 [blog status: semi-hiatus, requests closed]

| yeonjun ver. | soobin ver. | beomgyu ver. | kai ver. |

masterlist

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taehyun considers you one of the bros.

right up there along with his 4 other crazy best friends, you fit right in, no sideways feelings to worry about and endless wingman opportunities to gain — hell, he even forgets sometimes that you've got a pair of boobs under there somewhere.

and all of this, of course, is completely and absolutely:

not true.

it's exactly what you seem to think in that pretty little head of yours, though, as taehyun often observes; it's quite cute actually, he thinks.

"out of all the guys i could like, why does it have to be the one guy in my life who would draft me onto his football team if he had one?" he'd overheard you complaining to yeonjun one day.

(sorry, but trust me, sweetheart - you wouldn't even make it past tryouts, he'd thought afterwards upon fighting back a laugh and an endeared little grin.)

oh, if only you knew.

if only you knew the steady breaths he has to take whenever you stand so temptingly close to him; or how many filthy images he has to shake out of his mind when he's helping you with your workouts; or that annoying little shadow called jealousy that he has to push down when you smile so sweetly at a man that isn't him.

taehyun is a man of self control, and a man who would do anything for the people that he loves — which means that no matter how much he'd enjoy changing your mind about what exactly you assume he perceives you as, he knows for the sake of your friendship that he can't.

and so he doesn't.

but oh, you wish that he would.

taehyun is quite good at keeping his feelings in check, to the point where you're convinced at this point that if you were to strut naked across the room in front of him, he wouldn't even pay you any mind;

pft, you scoff at your own silly thought, as if something so ridiculous would ever happen. (…well....)

today you've decided that you're getting real tired of your own pining and yearning and eyes that shoot hearts like confetti every time your best friend walks into the room —

you pout at the sight of yourself reflected on the open camera screen of your phone as the self-timer counts down yet again. this has become quite the routine of yours.

body bare save for the lacy lingerie that doesn’t cover much of anything as you perch at the edge of your bed, posing so prettily, so sensually, just the way you imagine taehyun would like; just more photos to add to the naughty little album in your camera roll that you wish you could send to him but know that you never will.

there was a time where you used to try testing the waters a bit, some flirting here, a fleeting touch or two there. but you'd quickly learned how pointless it was. after all, a brick wall is never gonna flirt back.

you sigh. it's time to get going anyway; speak of the devil, he'll be here to pick you up in 20 minutes.

~

taehyun can see in his peripheral the way you keep glancing at him from the passenger seat of his car.

as usual, he maintains an even expression. "excited to see me or something?"

his lips quirk as you jump in your seat a little, quickly looking forwards and crossing your arms as you grumble, "you wish. i just saw you like two days ago."

he merely hums in acknowledgment, which gets you even more grumbly — ("no fair that i can never get a reaction out of you! why is it always me?!" you'd wailed in defeat one time after a failed attempt to get him back, your cheeks flushed pink and pretty).

taehyun smiles.

when he soon pulls up outside your friend's apartment building that you’d needed to drop something off at first on the way to yeonjun’s, he decides to be nice as he asks,

"where was that new cat café you wanted to go to? we can stop there before meeting the guys."

bingo. the smile that lights up your face is exactly what he was looking for as your previous pout melts away and you gasp, "really?! okay wait, i took a screenshot of their instagram page the other day, you can check and put the address in! i'll be super super quick!"

he bites back a laugh as you shove your phone into his hands and excitedly rush out of the car.

"5 minutes tops or i'm going without you!" he calls out the window, to which you shriek and scurry away even faster.

he grins to himself, shaking his head as you disappear into the building and he turns to click open your camera roll.

"alright, cat café, where are............ you."

taehyun feels as if a lightning rod has just shot straight through his entire body.

his muscles tense. all his breath escapes him in a rush.

you...

the sight of you is what greets him through the screen...

you,

completely naked.

it's like his skin is consumed by fire as his eyes roam across the rows of pictures in the album you'd left open; most taken on your bed, some in the shower at the gym that you both go to together, some where you’re donned in sets of delicious lingerie — his eyes widening and pants tightening when he even spots one from his own room, your skirt hiked up in the reflection of his full-length mirror as your panties dangle cheekily from one finger, leaving the delicious curve of your ass on full display.

when did she even take that??

he scrolls, and he's barely hanging on by a thread as his best friend who's supposed to stay his best friend poses so irresistibly pretty from the screen; his cock is so hard that it's painful as your big innocent eyes look up at him in complete contrast to the lewd position that you'd put yourself in.

god, the positions he wants to put you in...

alright, reel it in, kang taehyun. this can't go anywhere. you have to take it to the grave. you’ve gotta think about the friendship. you’ll just pretend you didn't see it. you’ll act aloof like you always do.

but every single ounce of self control that taehyun has spent so long holding together finally crashes down around him like a breaking dam when his gaze lands on the name of the album at the top of the screen.

— t ♡

his cock jumps.

fucking hell, these are for me.

when you skip your way back to the car minutes later, you don't notice at first how firmly he's gripping the steering wheel or the fact that he isn’t even looking at you, remaining staring straight ahead as you climb back into the passenger side.

you don't notice — that is, until your phone catches your eye, set neatly on the middle console with your worst nightmare staring right back up at you from the screen.

it feels as though a bucket of ice water has crash landed down on your head (both the water and the bucket) as you realize what happened.

but you barely even have the time to panic or react or beg for mercy, or perhaps for a lobotomy on you both, before taehyun is asking you:

"back seat or my place?"

his voice is so calm that you almost don't process his words. your thoughts buffer as you pause.

"wh... what?" you breathe.

that's when he finally turns his head to look at you, and the intensity of the hunger swimming in his stare is enough to leave you even more winded than you already were before as a familiar feeling stirs between your legs and your thighs clamp together of their own accord.

"back seat," he repeats slowly, "or my place?"

you swallow hard.

this.. t-this is... he means.…

your head is reeling, and dumbly you stammer back, "w-what about the guys..?" as if the plans with your friends really matter anymore in a moment like this.

fuck the guys. fuck the cat café. taehyun has already decided: he’s done holding back from what he wants, and what he wants is to make you his.

you blink at him wide-eyed as he leans towards you slightly in his seat, his voice low and assertive as he replies,

"we're not going."

he taps your phone as if to draw your attention back to it. as if it should be obvious.

"so, you choose." your eyes fly back up to his —

"where do you want me to fuck you?"

your lower belly explodes with heat as an electric shiver rolls down your spine, and you swear that this is the best day of your entire fucking life as you see the promise that flickers in his eyes.

maybe you won't be finding yourself on the football team after all.

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— taglist: @razsberrie, @saejinniestar, @hyukalyptus, @florestalio, @beomiracles, @kiss4baku, @kejingken, @hyukascampfire, @cherr4es, @stawmerry, @choikanghuening, @dawngyu, @soo-blue, @paradigms13

if you want to be added to my taglist and get notified whenever i post any writing, drop a comment or an ask and let me know! ♡

[napofawhalien]

I read this last month and I’m still thinking about it. It’s so vivid in my mind because of the way it was written so well.

I was laying down when I read this and when I was finished I sat up and made disgruntled cat noises for about five minutes because IT JUST ENDS LIKE THAT?! I was so immersed in the plot and the characters and the setting, I just fell into the world you built in a way I haven’t been able to do with books in a longggg time. Even though I knew the basic beats the story would hit as a retelling, I was so satisfied by the way they were written and the little things you threw in along the way. This was so bittersweet and still making me feel things a while after reading it!

This is going to live on my ereader so I can reread it whenever :3

The Price || MYG

banner by @/itaeewon

The Price

Rating: NSWF - minors do not have my consent to interact Genre: Snow White and the Huntsman!au, angst, smut, unhappy ending WC: 8k

Summary: The Queen is responsible for everything you call yours: your home, your job, your freedom. You live without laying claim to anything else, lest the Queen leverage more in exchange for her grace. But the Queen has just named her latest price: the life of the young blacksmith, Min Yoongi.

Warnings: language, drinking, there’s a plague and it’s a problem, reader’s parents died (see the previous warning lol) and there are scenes of her grieving process, reader is a hunter so there’s mentions of animal carcasses and hides, lots of mentions of reader’s big fancy knife, a murder attempt, kissing, nip stim, groping, fingering, clit stim, penetrative sex (protection not mentioned either way), reader on top, angst, unhappy/ambiguous ending

A/N: Part of the Make Me Your Villain collab! Please give the other authors a lot of love!!! Huge huge huge thank you to @/here2bbtstrash for beta-ing!

//

Mirror, mirror - look and see. Who might take this throne from me? Mirror, mirror - who's the threat? Show me which boy's blood to let.

There are pros and cons to living outside the village. The pros are that you’re mostly left alone - you live by your own laws, most of the time. It’s better this way; you come and go as you please, you don’t worry about latest fashions or gossip, you aren’t under the thumb of any societal niceties or norms. You concern yourself more with what the forest tells you. Bad weather, humans who don’t belong, sickness on the horizon - the forest knows it all, and you know how to listen.

You knew about the plague - in a vague, something isn’t right here kind of way - days before the first villager fell sick. You didn’t see anything bigger than a possum for three days - you knew something was in the air. It was the baker first, then his wife. Now it’s made its way into the castle, the guards and servants falling like flies. 

Another pro - you won’t pick up illness from the baker if you make your own bread in your tiny cabin in the woods. 

The main con - the only con, really - is that when you make your weekly trek to the castle to present the King and Queen with your scores (deer, mostly, but usually a few fowl too) it takes so damn long to get there.

It would be faster on foot, much faster, but you have to load your kills onto a cart and take the dirt road, which winds and twists and takes its time. Today your cart is loaded: venison, fowl, a few rabbits, even a fox. That had been a good score. The Queen likes furs - she’ll pay you well for it.

But the trip into town once a week is a fair price for your freedom, you think.

A few vendors through the heart of town wave hello as you pass. You lift your hand in response but don’t stop. You’ll shop after, when your cart is empty and your purse is full. For now, you stay on the main road until it changes over from tamped-down dirt to cobblestone to, eventually, flat stone that leads to the bridge over the castle’s moat. 

The usual guard, the one who knows your face and always waves you through, isn’t there. You wonder if the plague reached him, if he’ll recover or if they’ll send his body to the sea like all the others. 

You show identification, the card nearly illegible due to how many times it’s been folded and stuffed into your shoe for safekeeping, and this new guard waves you on. 

As usual, you stop in the courtyard just inside the first set of walls. You hop down and start undoing the straps of the fabric you have over the top of the cart. Two guards join you, and they begin moving your scores down from the cart. Each is weighed and given a quick once-over as a scribe stands to the side recording it all.

“Make sure you mention how nice that hide is,” you tell him, pointing at the fox. “I got that one special, for her.”

The scribe rolls his eyes a little, but you see him peer at the fox and scribble something on his little parchment. When they’re done, your cart empty, the scribe rolls his paper up and leads you up the steps towards the main doors to the castle. You flip one of the guards a silver coin and follow the scribe. As you head up the steps, you hear the sound of your horse’s feet moving across the stone, the cart creaking and groaning behind him, as the guard you paid takes him to be cared for. 

Inside, you follow the thick, red carpet into the throne room. You’re surprised to see only the Queen present, but you school your face and drop into a bow anyway, your forehead brushing the soft carpeting. 

When you rise, you see the scribe has handed her the parchment, and she reads over the report of your goods. You wait, knowing better than to speak until she has. 

“A good week,” she observes. 

“Yes, your Grace,” you say, eyes on the carpet. “I was pleased as well.”

“Are you well?” she asks as she signals for her Chief of Coin, who scurries close to the throne and lowers his head to hear her whispers. 

“Quite well,” you say automatically, though you’re not sure what exactly she’s asking. Does she mean your health? Your home? 

The Chief of Coin makes his way to you and you pull your practically-empty purse from your back pocket. 

“You have need of nothing?” she asks. 

This would be your opportunity to ask after anything major - repairs on your home, medicine, anything you couldn’t get during your walk back through town.

“No, your Grace,” you say. “I had need of a new blade, but the local smith took my request.”

The local smith and your new blade are one of your stops on your way home. 

“I’ve heard from the citadel,” she tells you, and you pull your eyes away from the Chief of Coin to look at her. “They say your brother is doing well. He’s applying himself to his studies.”

When you’d lost your parents, you’d begged to keep your brother yourself, desperate to keep him away from the citadel’s orphanage. You were of age, could handle yourself. You could handle him, too, you’d argued. 

The King had considered this. Your family was well-known in the village, and your father had hunted for the crown for many years. Your brother was only about five years out from finishing his schooling. 

You were investments, you and your brother.

In the end, the deal had been struck - the crown would see to the rest of his education under the condition that when he finished he’d work for the crown, pay back his debt, begin to build his own name. 

And, in the meantime, you’d take over the hunting. You could keep your family’s little cabin out in the woods, away from town. Your brother wouldn’t be apprenticed off to a stranger.

It was an easy deal to agree to. 

“We’re grateful for the opportunity,” you say to the Queen. “If the report said anything less, I’d travel there to knock sense into him, myself. He’s at that age. You know.”

You try to bite back a cringe. The Queen might not know. She’d never been able to bear a child for the King. 

She smiles at this, thinly.  “Very well,” she says, and you take back your now-heavy purse from the Chief of Coin. “Then I shall see you next week. I wish you continued health in the upcoming days.”

You nod your head. “I wish the crown health and longevity,” you say. Head bowed, you miss the way her eyes tighten.

–

You pick up the goods you need - eggs, flour, and the like - on your way through town. You eye the tavern, tempted to stop for a pint. Alas, you are embarrassingly excited to get your new blade, so instead you carry on down the road towards the smithy. 

After tying up your horse - though he’s a lazy thing and probably wouldn’t wonder anyway, not with the cart hitched up - you head inside, following the sounds of a hammer striking metal. 

You wait until there’s a break in the noise and then shout a hey back towards the open door to let the team know they have a customer. 

There’s the sound of a heavy instrument being dropped to the ground, and you catch yourself smoothing your hair back. Stop it, you scold yourself, scowling. 

That’s the face that greets the youngest of the smithing team, Min Yoongi, as he steps into the shop, blinking as his eyes adjust to the light.

“Ah,” he says, lips curling into a smirk. “Is it Thursday already?”

“Is my blade ready?” you ask, ignoring both his self-satisfied grin and his question. “Park Jihoon said I could get it today.”

At his boss’s name, Yoongi’s smirk fades until he’s all business again. He turns to the wall, where special orders are tacked. He searches until he finds yours. 

“It’s ready,” he grunts, reading the slip of parchment. “Wait here.”

He disappears into the back again, returning with a hefty-looking blade, sheathed in a leather case. 

He places it on the counter between you, pulls the blade from its case and turns it over so you can see each side.

You frown. “I didn’t order engraving on the case,” you say, jutting your chin towards the delicate design at the top. It curls in and around itself, all the way around. “I’d better not have to pay extra for that.”

“Ah, but he worked so hard on it!” Park Jihoon says cheerfully, appearing out of the back and clapping Yoongi on the shoulder. You keep your eyes on the knife; Yoongi looks steadfastly at the wall with the orders, a pink flush working up his neck. 

“It’s not extra,” he mutters. 

“I’m heading to Bridgeport,” the senior blacksmith tells Yoongi. “I’ll be back before sundown. You’ll be okay here?”

“Of course I will,” Yoongi says, disgruntled. Jihoon nods goodbye at you both and moves through the door, leaving you in silence. 

“What’s the price?” you ask, placing your purse on the counter and digging for coins. He turns the paper over so you can see what his boss wrote, and you slide him the payment. You work on attaching the blade’s sheath to your belt, ignoring how Yoongi watches you through heavy-hooded eyes. 

You know that look. You are ignoring that look. 

“Lovely,” you say, once you’re situated and ready to go. You swipe up your purse and toss it once, catching it deftly. “Have fun pounding on metal, or whatever.”

His grin is razor-sharp. “I’d be happy to pound something else, if you want.”

The laugh rips out of you, unbidden and unwanted. “Disgusting,” you tell him, but the laughter takes the bite out of the words. “My God, you ought to throw yourself down the well for that.”

He lifts a brow, his smile turning less dangerous and more open.

You laugh again, shaking your head. “None of that today, thanks. I’ll be off.”

“Come on,” he cajoles, coming around the counter to follow you to the door. “You know you want some. It’ll be such a long ride back here when you change your mind later.”

“Keep dreaming, blacksmith,” you tell him, lips pursing in amusement.

He lays a hand over his heart like he’s wounded. “Blacksmith? You remembered my name just fine last week when you were -.”

“Well, I seem to have forgotten it again!” you blurt before he can finish the thought, pulling the door open. Over your shoulder you call, “Good day!” 

His laughter rings out onto the street, following you home.

Regretfully, you have to admit that out of everyone who lives in this village, built out from the castle’s western gate, you know the most about Min Yoongi.

You knew him in passing, of course - before. When you’d ride through this same village on this same cart, your little brother squeezed between you and your father. When you’d stand silently, peeking around your father’s side, while he took payment from the King for his scores. When you’d greet the peddlers and the shop-keepers politely before climbing back on the cart and riding all the way back home. 

Yoongi was just an apprentice then. You hadn’t paid him any mind. He was quiet, a bit scruffy, stayed close to Park Jihoon. He was no more interesting to you than the apprentice for the bakery, the tannery, the copywrite. Wasn’t even the best looking out of the bunch, honestly. 

He was just there, unassuming. He was there when you’d pass through town on the cart full of your father’s scores, there whenever your family had business with the blacksmith, there when the holidays rolled through and your mother dragged you into town in a dress you hated and shoes that pinched.

There the day your parents’ bodies, along with six others, were loaded onto a barge headed for the sea. There the day your brother joined four more young people from the village as they climbed into a deep blue carriage headed for the citadel. 

Yoongi’s dark eyes, cool and undemanding, had been on you as you stood fully alone for the first time in your life. 

You hadn’t paid him any attention then, either. You couldn’t pay mind to anything then except dragging yourself through dark day after dark day until, finally, the clouds seemed to part and your new life seemed bearable. And bearable turned into decent. And decent turned into enjoyable. 

The seasons turned. The hurts faded. 

And you began to pay mind to Min Yoongi.

You began to learn things about him, then - after. 

In your time around town, you learned first that he was good at his work - his blades were made well, easily as well as his master’s blades. You learned that he scowled and grunted but hardly ever meant it. You learned that he had a good reputation around the village - was known for helping his neighbors without being asked, known for being polite and keeping to himself. You learned that he had no family either, that the master blacksmith who’d taken him as an apprentice had more or less raised him, too.

Alone with him, you learned that his smile could be razor sharp, one side lifting and eyes glinting in a way that made your pulse sing. You learned that when he meant it, his eyes squeezed shut and his gums showed. His shoulders shook when he laughed. He made the funniest faces when someone said anything he didn’t agree with or didn’t understand. He’d grown strong, his craft shaping his arms and roughening his hands.

You learned that he took whiskey neat at the tavern when he was done working for the day. You learned that he had a smart mouth behind his quiet demeanor, and opinions about everything. You learned what he was willing and able to do with that mouth when he pressed you against the rough wood of the tavern’s side alley, and then later, back in his rooms behind the smithy. 

You learned that he fucked rough but loved soft.

And that was where it had to stop.

Because it couldn’t be - but this you knew the whole time. 

When he pressed his mouth to yours sweetly, stretching to reach you, brushed one lovely finger down your cheek and whispered, I want you, you knew this: it couldn’t be. 

There was no life for you in the village. There was no life for you as someone’s wife. There was no future for you as someone’s homemaker. 

Even if he could somehow give you partnership and love without taking away the wildness of your lifestyle - there was no love ready to bloom and grow behind your iron ribs. You had nothing you could give him back. You knew only survival. Only killing and coin. Only the forest and its secrets.

“You can’t have me,” you’d whispered back. “I am not to be had.”

You were surprised when he didn’t fight it. He hadn’t pushed back. He hadn’t held it against you, hadn’t been wounded. He’d accepted exactly what you were willing to give him and asked for nothing more. 

You know this, above all else: he’s sweet, and conscientious, and good. Yoongi is good.

You - forest-dweller, hunter, orphan, unmannered, uneducated - don’t deserve him. You aren’t enough for how good he is.

The royal physician’s face says it all. 

The Queen purses her lips, her eyes on her husband’s prone form. He meets her gaze weakly, too far gone to mask any of it. 

“How long?” she asks, the words clipped. 

The physician spreads his hands before him. “Impossible to say, your Majesty. Days, maybe. Weeks, if he can be strong.”

She scoffs. “Days it shall be, then.” She dismisses him with the wave of a hand. 

No one is surprised, she thinks. The plague would breach their walls eventually. Only the strong survive - of course it would be her husband who would succumb first, and quickly. He’d never been strong, not like her. 

After all, she was the one who tried all these years. She looked and acted the part of a partner. She was faithful. She focused on the crown, on the realm. 

Not like him.

He coughs as he shifts on the bed, and she looks at him again. Weak, she thinks again. She can only feel disgust for him, for everything he never gave her. 

“You’ll finally get what you always wanted,” he croaks. 

She turns to look out the window. The day is grey, dreary. 

“It seems I shall,” she agrees. Then she turns and walks closer to her husband’s sickbed - deathbed, perhaps. She drops delicately into the chair at his side and takes his clammy hand in hers. 

It might look as if she doted on him. It might look as if she mourned.

“What became of him?” she asks, voice even and unbending. “The boy.”

Her husband’s eyes crinkle with amusement, and the chuckle that rumbles from his chest is accompanied by pained coughing. 

“You truly are something, my Queen,” he says, shaking his head. “The boy doesn’t even know.”

He will say nothing else.

The Queen is delivered two things at once, not a week later.

The first, a gilded mirror, promised to possess magical ability.

The second, the expected news of her husband’s passing.

The realm begins its period of mourning, flags lowering, shutters closing. The Queen begins her incantations, alone in the southernmost tower of the keep.

The frame is made of ornately twisted gold, so heavy it takes two of her men to hang it for her. When they pull the dust cover off, she steps back to appraise it. 

“Pretty,” she observes, watching her own reflection in the glass - unmagical, unextraordinary. 

The swirling, green-hued mist doesn’t appear before her reflection until her men are dismissed, the door closing and leaving her alone. 

Your Majesty, the mirror intones, the voice coming from the depth of the mist. Your wish is my command.

The Queen pauses, considering. The throne, the throne - hers, finally, only hers. 

Unless.

The King’s last words to her ring through her head - the boy doesn’t even know. 

She raises her chin and chants, 

“Mirror, mirror, look and see…

Who could take this throne from me?

Mirror, mirror, who’s the threat?

Show me which boy’s blood to let.”

The mist, green and growing, takes over the glass. The Queen’s fists clench tightly at her sides. 

The mist clears. The Queen lets out a laugh, short and bitter. 

The blacksmith’s boy smiles shyly in the glass, one hand coming up as if to hide his face. 

The blacksmith’s boy. The king’s bastard. Her only threat, the only other claim to her throne.

Your next trip into town isn’t with a cart full of venison and fowl. Instead it rings more true to the holidays of old, with your mother in charge. You wear black and a scowl, just as you did then.

The funeral services for the King threaten to last the full day, maybe into the night. You wish you could abstain, but if ever there was an event you were obligated to attend - this would be it. 

You’re not sure what the King’s death means for you - for your brother. Will the Queen uphold the bargain? Does she still want your brother’s counsel, someday, when he’s of age? Without the King’s affection for your father, will she continue to allow you to live freely as part of the arrangement? 

You sit alone in the church pew; rather, you’re surrounded on either side by strangers. You know Yoongi’s in the crowd somewhere - you can feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head. You don’t turn to look for him. What good would it do?

It’s well after dark when the town begins to file out into the night. Your stomach growls, and you ponder if you should stop for a hot meal at the tavern before making the trek back through the woods or if you can hold out until you’re safely back at home.

You’re stopped on your way out the door by a guard reaching across you, blocking your path.

“Her Majesty requests your audience,” he says gruffly, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand at attention. Your audience? 

It can’t be good. You’re sure of it. 

You don’t meet her in the throne room as you have in the past. Instead, the guard leads you to a small chamber off the chapel, a nondescript little room with no decor, only a table with a candelabra lit in the center. 

She’s seated, and it’s so cramped in the room that it’s hard to properly bow, but you do your best. 

“Is my brother well?” you blurt out as soon as the guard has closed the door behind you. It was the first, biggest concern you had - you couldn’t hold it in. Had something happened in the citadel? 

She inclines her head, shrouded in darkness. “I asked you here because I need something done. You seem, somehow, to be my best option.”

You duck your head, flooded with relief. “I’m at your service, as always.”

And you are. You owe the crown everything - the home you were allowed to keep, your brother’s education, your income. Your freedom, as conditional as it is. 

The Queen seems to think before she speaks, and when she does each word is short and deliberate.

“There’s someone I need gone,” she says, her voice giving away no emotion. No sign of grief from the widow, no sign of trepidation from the new ruler, no sign of regret from the human asking you to take a life. “A threat to my throne. I’ll pay five times our normal scale. And I’ll pay you for your discretion, as well, on an ongoing basis.”

You respond with silence. You can’t process quickly enough - you don’t know what to tell her.

The only thing you can tell her is yes. She holds your whole world in her hands. 

But if you tell her yes, then you have to do it. Can you kill a person, can you pretend it’s no different from cutting a rabbit’s throat? 

Could you tell her yes and then leave? Vanish into the forest? What would become of your brother, if you did? Would he be responsible for your sins?

Five times your normal price could do a lot for you. You could send finer clothes to your brother, help pay for his books, maybe even a little spending money. You could fix up the cabin - patch the roof where it leaks, reinforce the cellar the way you’ve thought about for years. 

And payment for your silence - ongoing? For how long, forever?

None of it matters. You can’t say no to the Queen.

“Yes, your Majesty,” you hear yourself say. Your stomach is a block of ice, turning over and over with the tide. “I am yours to command.”

You know it. She knows it.

“The blacksmith’s boy,” she says coolly, and you aren’t even surprised. It’s like part of you knew, somehow. Part of you has been waiting for this ending all along. Isn’t this exactly why you’d never let him get too close? There was never a happy ending in the stars - not for you.

She accepts your silence as acquiescence and adds, “Tonight.”

“Tonight?” you repeat, voice coming out too wispy. 

She meets your gaze, still cold. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” you say, the only correct answer. But your mind is scrambling far away, getting ahead - what weapons do you have on hand, how will you do this -

“You didn’t strike me as softhearted,” she says, full of disdain.

“I’m not,” you defend. It’s just that it’s Yoongi. Yoongi, who sees your sharp edges and smiles because he knows firsthand how much sharp edges are worth. How - how - how can you? How can you pretend it’s just a hunt, just a necessity, when you know how his mouth tastes, how he looks at you like you’re something?

Her even look turns darker, a shade closer to a frown. “I know you have the stomach and skill to kill. And I know you dally with him. He’ll follow you - take him to the woods and be done with it.”

You haven’t been as discrete as you thought you had. You wonder who else in town knows about whom you dally with.

Not that it will matter, after tonight. Not if you follow orders.

Not when you follow orders.

“Yes, your Majesty,” you say, head bowed. 

There’s no other correct answer. Your freedom had always had a price.

–

There’s some poetic irony, you think, in killing Min Yoongi with the blade he made just for you. 

Your mind is stuck on this, circling it, unable to let go, as you approach the smithy.

The lights are out - there’ll be no late-night projects, not during the official mourning for the King. You hope Park Jihoon, whose quarters are above the smithy, just across the yard from Yoongi’s tiny cabin, sleeps deeply. 

You know Yoongi keeps a key in the eaves above his front window; you’ve seen him retrieve it no less than a half-dozen times - usually he’s reaching for it, his shirt rising and showing a slip of belly that you can’t help but run your hands across as he laughs and tells you to be patient.

You reach it on your own, tonight. You let yourself in as silently as possible, closing the door behind you, placing the key gently on his tiny, wooden table. His bed is in the far corner of the room, and although the fire in the hearth has gone out, you can see the lump of blankets through the darkness that show you his form.

You approach quietly, as you would approach a potential score, letting yourself slip into the mindset of surviving the forest. 

You hesitate when you stand over him. He sleeps on his back, the light from the streetlamps outside casting flickering yellow over his delicate features. His eyelids flutter. Next to his head, his fingers twitch. 

If you strike true, this could be over in an instant.

His eyes slide open, and a hazy smile drifts over his face. “Am I having a very good dream?” he murmurs. His eyes trail down your form and freeze on the knife in your hand. The smile fades, and his eyes meet yours again, a question in them. “Or perhaps a very bad one?”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. Then, you move at the same time - you lunging and plunging the blade into the spot where his heart lay, and him rolling sideways and hitting the floor with a thud.

You yank your blade free from where it pierced Yoongi’s empty mattress and wheel to follow him as he scrambles upright and towards the door. 

You should’ve locked it. You shouldn’t have apologized, your voice and your regret giving him the split second to bolt.

You follow him at a sprint, panting hard, as the fool runs barefoot through the smithy’s yard, heading for the forest. 

Your forest. 

It’s overcast tonight, threatening rain. No moon or stars to guide you, you follow Yoongi as he zigs and zags blindly through the trees. You have the advantage. You know where you are, even in the dark. 

It’s primal, as you forge deeper and deeper through the underbrush, just sinew and silence as you run. Wind whistles around you as you focus on breathing, focus on following the crunch of Yoongi’s wild path. The earth seems to rise up to meet each footfall with a jolting slap. The darkness seems to spur you on like it knows you need this, pressing you onward, telling you, hurry, hurry.

If you can herd him towards the east, you can cut him off at the ravine - he won’t be able to do it barefoot, not without stumbling, not without cutting those bare feet on the sharp rocks. You pick up the pace, emboldened by the plan, knees and elbows pumping as you close in.

Without warning, Yoongi stops short and wheels around on you, feet skidding a little on the loose needles that coat the forest floor. It’s so unexpected that the inertia carries you to him before you can tell your legs to quit. Before you can slow, before you can turn, he grabs you by the arms and slams you backwards into the thick trunk of an oak tree, hard enough to knock the wind out of you with an audible gasp.

You’re surprised enough that the knife drops from your fingers, and he wastes no time gripping you even tighter and throwing you to the ground, instantly dropping his body over yours and holding you down as best he can as you struggle. The blade lies just out of reach, taunting you, and you reach up and stretch as hard as you can to wiggle your fingers closer, but Yoongi roughly jerks your arm away.

You’re gasping for breath as you struggle beneath his weight, trying to keep your vision clear. This wasn’t part of the plan. You weren’t supposed to have to chase him, have to fight him. You aren’t used to this - the deer don’t fight back.

“Why?” he pants heavily, his whole body heaving with each inhale and exhale. Sweat runs down his neck from the curled, damp edges of his hair. His eyes are wild, confused above you.

“Do you know who your father is?” you respond in answer, and the question surprises him so much that he leans back, like he’s trying to get a better look at you. 

It’s all you need. You use your feet and your core strength to stretch just past where you couldn’t reach with his full weight on you, and your fingers close around the blade’s handle. In a flash, you have the sharp side pressing to the pulse point on Yoongi’s neck, hard enough that you know he can feel the sting, your other hand curling in his shirt and holding him still. His eyes widen and he freezes, straining to hold himself up and away from you.

“If you move I’ll do it, and it won’t be quick,” you hiss, teeth gritted so hard you’re sure they’ll crack. Your heart slams in your chest, adrenaline sending tingles clear down to your toes. You’re dizzy with fear. You aren’t sure what’s scarier - actually doing what you’re meant to, or having to report that you didn’t.

You’re both stuck there - a tableau, an oil painting, frozen for eternity, never moving on from this moment. A million possibilities stretch on as Yoongi’s pulse beats visibly against the knife he’d sharpened for you just days ago. 

You feel like you’re floating outside your body; you can’t feel any of it - not the knife’s handle against your palm, not Yoongi’s hips still pinning yours, not the sticks and stones beneath your spine, not the sticky humidity of a night on the precipice of storm. Not your own thrumming, frightened heartbeat.

You know you can’t do it - not this way. Not like this, not with his eyes on yours, steady, as if he’s not staring down his death. Not like this, looking into his face and remembering the first time you were under him this way, remembering every time after that. Your hand trembles as you will yourself not to pull the blade away. 

But he knows. Yoongi’s always called your every bluff, has always been perfectly capable of shooting you a knowing half-smile and pushing right past your blustering, always able to find the person on the other side of the facade - the person who’s scared,confused, alone. 

“No you won’t,” he murmurs, low, and there’s nothing accusing or mocking in it. He’s simply telling you what he knows. 

Slowly, carefully, he lowers his face closer to yours, so deliberately that the knife slides harmlessly along his skin until he’s clear of it. He presses his lips to yours, uncertain at first, then with more insistence when you don’t push him away. 

The fear and adrenaline crash through you in time with a not-so-distant crack of thunder, blinding you, rendering you thoughtless and animalistic. You drop the knife with a thud, barely aware that you’re doing it, your hand coming instead to tangle in his loose hair, clutching it tightly at the base of his neck and pressing his head closer to yours, kissing him deeper, needing to absolutely drown in his kiss. 

He grunts at your enthusiasm, nipping at your bottom lip before diving into you again, licking deep into your mouth and pressing his hips down into yours in rhythm with the kiss. You move with him desperately, the quiet of the woods scattered by your combined gasping breaths, tiny sounds of pleasure slipping through the cracks in your armor, the wet sounds of your mouths coming apart and meeting again hungrily. Despite the earth solid beneath you, you feel like you’re spinning. You clutch him tightly, one hand in his hair and the other arm coming around his shoulders, tethering him to you. 

He’s the only thing keeping you here, in the present, not skittering off to somewhere safe inside your head.

You let him hold you there, pressed between him and the unyielding ground below you, channel all the rushing adrenaline into how you meet his fiery kisses, pressing your mouth hard back against his like it’s a battle, into how you roll your hips against his, thrilling at feeling him hard and ready for you. But for all the intensity, for the dizziness sweeping over you, neither of you rushes - you kiss for so long that your lips tingle, your core throbs, the night grows blacker, the thunder tiptoes closer. 

You swipe your tongue over his familiar lips, whining in your throat when he opens for you again, welcomes you in, rocks against you and closes his eyes against the sting as you unconsciously tighten your fingers in his hair. 

Then he breaks the kiss, pulls himself free of your grasp, nudges his nose to the underside of your jaw until you lean your head back, breathing hard, giving him room to attach teeth and lips to the skin of your neck. 

He gathers a bit of skin and worries it between his teeth, muttering, “You won’t kill me. No one else can make you come undone like I do.”

The sound that tears out of you is half laugh and half desperate groan. “Prove it, then,” you goad, fingers finding the hem of his shirt and pulling the edge towards you. He releases the spot on your neck long enough to let you pull the material over his head. Then he sits back on his knees between your legs and looks you over, one hand absently sliding down the front of his trousers, pressing relief into his waiting cock.

“Yours,” he says, tone steely. You find your own hem with shaking fingers. Distantly, there’s a flash of lightning, illuminating the canopy of tree branches above you before plunging you into darkness again. You pull your top over your head and drop it next to his, leaning back on your elbows.

All thoughts of what you’re supposed to do here have left you; there’s only hands-shaking adrenaline and instinct driving you to give in to your desires and pursue what you want - Yoongi, Yoongi, more of Yoongi.

“Trousers, too,” Yoongi tells you, voice quiet. His fingers are on the string of his own trousers, but his eyes are on your exposed chest. Hungry. 

You do as he says, untying your bottoms and pushing them away with your feet and waiting for his next move. The night isn’t cold, but you shiver. The forest, your forest, feels like a sanctuary, like it’s wrapping around the two of you and keeping you safe from everything outside. Like if you stayed in here, together, you might be safe from her after all.

But you know that’s a lie. 

You push the thought away by coming up on your knees and approaching Yoongi, who’s still kneeling, too. You press your chest to him with a shudder as you reach to kiss him again. He gives a quiet, happy noise low in his throat and you answer with a hum as you lick into him again.

You slip a hand between your bodies and find him heavy and leaking. He presses into your touch with a nearly-silent keen that you manage to catch, and you trace your fingertips up his length, playing in the wetness you find waiting for you at the tip, then pulling that wetness down to the base again. You repeat the motion, touch featherlight, and listen to Yoongi’s breathing hitch and catch and sigh as he closes his eyes and enjoys it. He’s silky against your fingertips, skin like satin even here.

Yoongi trails kisses down your jaw, making a clear path towards your neck, and he skims a hand up your side and past your ribs, cupping one breast and rubbing his thumb roughly over your hardening nipple. You gasp, fingers twitching against his length, which spurs him on. He runs his knuckles lightly over the bud, then takes it gently between his thumb and forefinger, giving it an experimental roll. Your gasped ah turns into a liquid moan and he does it again, harder. You keen, a note of complaint in it, as he repeats the movement that is somehow both too much and not enough. 

You wrap your hand fully around him, done teasing him with barely-there strokes, and roll your wrist once, twice, three times, his low grumbling reply music to your ears. He’s still mouthing at your neck and he switches hands, igniting sparks as he gently pinches the other nipple instead. Then he reaches and bumps your wrist out of his way as he cups your sex and spears you on his middle finger. 

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you whine, rocking into his hand, trying to take the digit just a little deeper. 

He must hear the desperation in your tone or sense it in the way you clench around his single finger, because he takes mercy on you and presses a second finger in beside the first. You sigh, still rocking against his hand, as he fucks into the spot in your front wall that makes your eyes drift closed and your toes curl up. You abandon his cock, bringing your hands to his shoulders, hanging on to keep yourself upright. When he presses his thumb against your clit you groan, loud and long, no one to hear you, and let your head fall back.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, plunging his fingers in and out of your wet heat. You can hear it each time he pushes them back in, the sound ringing in the silent woods, the only competition the approaching rolls of gentle thunder.

He works you up until you’re panting, your forehead dropping to rest against his collarbone, your hips in constant motion as you seek more. Your arms are looped around his neck, though you don’t remember starting to hold him, and your fingers find the ends of his long hair, tugging lightly in time with his motions. Occasionally his thumb circles your clit, causing your hips to jerk, but the angle stops him from keeping it constant. He pulls his hand away, and you take a bracing breath, coming back to your senses as the sensations fade. 

He drops back from his knees, one arm behind his head as he lays back. He locks his eyes on yours as he strokes himself, his teeth toying with his bottom lip. 

“Come on, then,” he prompts, his hand languid and lazy on his cock. Your body buzzes as you climb over him and sink down, letting him fill you, stretch you, break you into pieces. You ride him hard, one hand splayed on his flushed chest for balance, as around you the wind picks up, the leaves on the trees fluttering.

Yoongi’s eyes screw closed and his head tips back, even as his hands continue to guide your hips through each rise and fall.

You slow, savoring the drag against your walls, savoring his pretty skin beneath your fingers, savoring the grunts and hitched breaths he’s trying to hold back.

You could have loved Yoongi. In another life, where you had chips to bargain with. In a life where you fit into place within the village, where wild wasn’t as necessary to you as air. Even if the Queen had never called for Yoongi’s head - this life never meant for you to love him.

This is what you think about as you lightly rake your nails down his chest, watching him squirm beneath you. You think about all the times he’d been on the edge of saying it.

You think about all the times the feeling had risen up in you, as warm as a patch of sunlit floor, and you’d had to blow it away like an errant dandelion seed.

Maybe you do love him. You just can’t forget - not for a second - how little it matters.

The knife sits where you’d dropped it before undressing, just past Yoongi’s head.

You could probably reach it now.

Yoongi seems to sense the change in your motions and cracks an eye open, his fingers on your hips loosening.

His gaze follows yours. A flash of lightning makes the metal shine for a split second, and then you’re surrounded by the sudden patter of falling rain.

“Guess we better hurry,” Yoongi mutters, reaching up to grip the back of your neck and pulling you down so your chest is flush with his.

All thoughts leave your mind as he hammers into you from below - the knife is forgotten. Your feelings are forgotten. The rain, starting to muddy up the ground around you, forgotten.

You cum around him in silence, jaw clenched, fingers digging into his biceps. The groan he lets out as you squeeze around him in waves is drowned out by a growl of thunder that feels like it’s right above you, all around you.

Yoongi pumps into you with abandon, suddenly losing the rhythm he’d created. He gives two more shuddery thrusts and then lets his arms flop to the ground with a contented sigh.

For a second, you both lay there, sweat-slick and panting. Another lightning splits the sky, and the rain comes harder. He slides out of you and you wiggle until you’re laying just next to him instead of on top of him.

You can’t stop looking at him. He seems determined not to look at you.

The rain washes everything away - the smell of sex, your sweat, your affection, your sadness, your pride.

“My father,” he murmurs beneath you, and you go deathly still. “Yes, I knew.”

You swallow, brush rainwater from your brow. “So does the Queen,” you say back. An explanation, and an answer to the why he’d leveled at you an hour ago.

He nods slowly, expression clearing with understanding.

You feel no absolution for it.

Finally, he leans his head back again, his bangs flopping heavily now that they’re saturated with rainwater, and eyes the knife.

You sit up. He brings his eyes to you and watches silently - as if he accepts whatever move you make. As if, should you reach for the metal, he wouldn’t fight you this time.

“Go.” The word tumbles roughly onto the inch of mud between you. You don’t remember making the decision to say it.

He sits up, elbows and shoulders caked with mud. But all he does is watch you, wait for you to change your mind.

“Go,” you repeat, meaning it. Now that you’ve said it once, now that the decision was made, you know it’s the right one. “I’ll tell her it’s done.”

You could never kill him. You both knew it all along.

He dresses wordlessly, and you do the same, pulling your top back over your head and tying up your trouser string. When you look up, he’s standing in the rain, watching you.

You stoop and grab the knife he’d made you. You grip it tightly in your hand, refuse to meet his eyes.

He’s not challenging you, not questioning you - and that, in itself, feels like a slap.

“You can’t come back,” you say, as evenly as you can muster. When he just looks at you, infuriatingly silent, you add, “You can’t. Okay? If she - she can never know.”

“I know,” he says, and then he gives you a long, searching look. He’s drenched now, and your hands itch to push his set hair away from his face, to use your thumbs to chase raindrops - you think - away from his lashline.

Then, choked, he offers, “You could -”

“Don’t,” you bite out, stopping him before he can make you any kind of offer. You can’t. You can’t go with him. You can’t disappear into the night. Your brother is counting on you. You won’t let him pay for your sins.

Yoongi shakes his head. He takes another step closer. Your fingers tighten on the knife’s handle.

“Y/N, I -”

You raise the knife above your head in a flash, eyes going wide in fury.

“Fucking go!” you bark.

He holds up his hands, takes a few steps backwards, giving up his quest to make this harder than it needs to be. Lightning illuminates him and above your head, the blade shines for a split second before everything is cast into inky darkness again.

When your eyes adjust to the darkness, trees around you forming a shape again, he’s gone.

You don’t follow him, and you don’t return to your cabin. You sink to your knees in the mud, dropping the knife onto the ground, and sob into your hands, the noise swallowed by the flurry of rain and the intermittent cracks of thunder.

—

You sleep. You hunt. When the time comes, you bring your scores to the Queen atop your wagon.

She doesn’t ask you about Yoongi. You don’t offer her anything, just thank her for her grace routinely when she orders your purse to be filled.

You don’t stop at the tavern on the way back home. You don’t stop at any of the shops - not this time. You don’t trust yourself to act right if Yoongi’s disappearance gets brought up. You don’t trust that no one will do the math that he vanished four nights ago, and now you’re a hollowed shell who can’t form words.

The townspeople have seen you grieve before. They’d know what they were seeing.

The next trip is easier, and the one after that even more. The Queen never thanks you, not that you expected it, but you start finding an extra purse of coins in your wagon each time you return to it after bringing in your kills.

The price for your silence. The price for what she thinks you’ve done.

It hurts the most when your wagon passes the smithy, but you keep your eyes on the cobblestones and your hands on the reins and eventually the hurt fades along with the village as you get farther and farther away.

The seasons turn. The hurts fade. You send extra money to your brother. You sleep. You hunt.

Eventually, you stop waking up from nightmares that feature the glint of metal. You stop waking up trying desperately to cling to your dreams as fruitlessly as clinging to smoke, left with only damp places on your pillow and the memory of a low, throaty chuckle ringing in your ears.

Eventually, you can ride past the smithy without the pang in your chest. You can stop for a pint without watching the shadows for the appearance of a gummy smile. You can laugh when the bartender cracks a joke, can sound like yourself when you ask the baker’s daughter how she’s been faring.

It is after one of these trips, deep into color-saturated autumn, that you return to your cabin with wagon empty and purses full.

Something isn’t right. You freeze, casting your eyes around the forest, but it holds its secrets tight.

On the ground in front of your door, illuminated by the late afternoon sunlight, is a brand new, shining blade.

thank you so much for reading!!! i really really like this one and i hope you do too!! <3

[napofawhalien]

*floast ominously towards you* daddy yeonjun....

*captures you in a jar with air holes in the lid*

DADDY YEONJUN… LIA SAID IT, NOT ME !!!!!

hand around your throat as he pounds into you, not bothering to push back the dark hair that’s falling over his eyes, silver chain swinging in your face as he groans, “you fucking love daddy’s cock, don’t you? love the way it fucks you stupid?” and you can’t do anything but mewl underneath him, gripping onto his wrist that holds your throat, your other hand clutching his bicep for support as his tip kisses your g-spot just right. he fucks you SO good, and he knows it, too.

flipping you onto your stomach so he can smack your ass, pulling your hips into him while keeping your front pressed into the mattress, long ringed fingers drilling in and out of you as you climax around them, shaking and trembling — and before you can even come down from your high he’s immediately pounding his cock back into you after leaning down to spit on your throbbing pussy.

“gonna make you forget your own fucking name,” he grunts as he slams his hips against yours over and over, “pussy so fucking good for me.. gonna cum on daddy’s cock, baby? gonna take everything daddy gives you like a good girl?” you’re moaning yesyesyesyesyes and he’s eating it up, knowing he’s making you feel soooo good <3

when he finally finishes inside you with a drawn-out groan, hips twitching and pressed firmly to yours, your own orgasm wracking through you for the second time - he’s quick to turn you over onto your back and pull you into his arms, peppering kisses across your shoulders, your neck, your forehead. whispers “good girl, baby. did so well for daddy. so pretty when you cum around me like that.” and continues to clean you up n take care of you for the rest of the night with little praises in between <3

[napofawhalien]

somewhere among the pines

words: 4,807 tags: witch!reader, werewolf!chan, ghost!seungmin and roommate!seungmin. fluff. mentions of an injury. vague allusions to soulmatism, if you squint and believe real hard. mentions of magic. notes: I finished it in time! I feel like there are bits where you can tell I rushed, but overall I'm very happy with it. this is also the longest reader insert I've ever written, so I hope you enjoy! Happy Halloween! [ao3 link]

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

The veil between worlds is thin this time of year. You know this to be true; a fact of your world that you learned when you were very young. 

Every October, the veil begins to thin. Odd things happen all year around, especially for someone like you, but the month of October brings with it a rise of the unexplainable. Or, perhaps unexplainable isn’t the correct word, since you’re very good at explaining the weird and unknown. 

This is a very long explanation for the fact that your roommate and possibly the best friend you’ve ever had, is incredibly corporeal in the days leading up to All Hallow’s Eve. What’s it say about you that you consider a ghost to be your best friend? That’s honestly a can of worms you don’t really want to open right now. 

Normally, your very dead and very spectral friend spends most of the calendar year as a phantom entity in your home. He can speak to you and possibly move small objects around if he concentrates. But for the most part he’s a ghost.

October is his favorite time of year. Yours too, for completely different reasons, but you can’t deny that you also find great joy in watching Seungmin move everything he can get his hands on simply because he can.

It also means the pranks increase tenfold, because now he’s tangible and can do so many more things. He has to get it all in before November rolls back around, severing the strong connection to the worlds beyond. 

“I think your neighbor is weird.” Seungmin says, from his spot by your kitchen window.

He’s wearing a horrendously large sweater that he must have found at the back of your closet, and it almost swallows him whole. Completely covering the shorts he constantly wears. 

He’s also holding your favorite mug. It’s empty, but he’s still clutching it to his chest as if he’s ready at any moment to sip at his morning coffee. You decide to let him have this, knowing that he only truly gets to experience big sweaters and mugs in his hands once a year. 

“Because you’re so normal.”

“I am.” He defends, immediately, glaring at you. “I was. ”

“You were the most normal boy in the orphanage?”

“It was a university for gifted students.”

Teasing him about his life before has become normal between the two of you. After that first year, after you both learned how to coexist in the same space without upended chairs or banishing spells, he finally told you his story. About his university that burned down decades ago with him inside of it. How the land that your house now occupies was once part of the sprawling campus. 

It’s another reason you let him raid your closet every October. It has to be a certain type of hell to spend the rest of your unlife looking like you’re always ready to attend afternoon lectures in plaid shorts and suspenders and shoes with little buckles on them. 

Ignoring his glaring attention, you turn back to the pot you have on the stove. It’s starting to boil aggressively, so you make sure to jam in some cinnamon sticks before wrestling the cover onto it. 

“Can you stop spying on my neighbor? He has nothing to do with you.”

Seungmin glides over to peer over your shoulder. “Whatever, but he is weird. Did you burn dinner?”

“It’s meant to be a spell and no, it’s not burnt. Sorry, are you the professional in the kitchen?”

“Are you?”  

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

Maybe Seungmin was right. Maybe your neighbor is weird. 

You watch, from the same kitchen window Seungmin was staring out of a few days ago, as your neighbor comes out of the woods surrounding your properties shirtless and running. It’s a routine of his that you’ve noticed. In a completely normal way, mind you. 

It's not like you're an obsessive stalker or anything. You just happen to notice things. Especially things that follow a pattern. 

He’s the type of guy that goes running at night, and he always takes the path that cuts through the woods that creeps at the edge of your shared backyards. 

Maybe jogging at night isn’t a completely odd thing, but he’s also shirtless, and it’s the tail end of October. The nights are getting colder, with winter nipping at the heels of autumn. That can’t be normal. 

It’s also a routine that you only began clocking at the beginning of the month. He’s lived in the house next door since the spring, and you’ve noticed him jogging through the neighborhood every now and then. He seemed like the athletic type, so you didn’t think much of it. 

But the nightly jogs through the forest only really became a thing during the first week of the month. At first it didn't seem like anything too different. Seungmin, who never actually sleeps, commented on it but you waved him off. He loved to gossip and get into people’s business. He was possibly the nosiest ghost you ever met. 

But as the nights went by, you became more aware of it. 

You’d like nothing more than to chalk it up to Seungmin as the one being weird, but if you squint you swear there really is something peculiar about him. It’s in the way the air moves around him, you think. It feels impossible to put into words, but there’s something about it that’s just a little unexplainable. 

Once you notice, it's almost impossible to stop noticing it. Which is incredibly frustrating.

Your neighbor approaches his back stairs, and slows to a stop. You watch as he lets out a long breath and stretches his back. As he turns, he catches sight of you in the window. It’s too late to try and move away, pretending you weren’t absolutely staring, so when he offers you a wave, you have to return it. 

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

The next night you curl up on the single patio chair you have on your back porch. It’s barely a porch, really. There’s enough room for a chair and a small table and not much else. 

You wait, quietly, as the stars twinkle above the tree tops and the night becomes as quiet as it can in a neighborhood that’s not urban enough for constant traffic and city noises, but also not rural enough for the silence that only comes with living far enough away from people. It’s the odd sort of in between world. Ambient sounds of a car passing a handful of streets away. Someone’s dog is barking in the distance. You hear a pair of voices from the front of your house, as they walk past on the sidewalk, their voices fade away the farther they get. 

The moon shines brightly from its spot in the sky. It’s not a full moon just yet, you can tell by the subtle shape of it and the calendar on your phone. It’ll reach its zenith in a few days, just shy of Halloween. 

Finally, your neighbor comes out from the sparse woods. Shirtless as always. You try, and fail, not to stare. 

(“He’s kind of hot.” Seungmin had said, that first night he had called him weird, after returning to the window. “Almost upsettingly so.”) 

You were trying to be a polite and respectful neighbor and not oggle him. But Seungmin was so entirely correct. It really is upsetting how good looking he is. 

“Hey.” You greet, grabbing his attention as you call out. You move forward, resting your arms against the railing and leaning just enough over the side so you can see him better. 

“Oh, hi.” He answers, blinking at you before waving. When he smiles he has a dimple. You can see it in the porch light. 

“My roommate thinks you’re weird.” Might as well get to the point, instead of trying to find an excuse to speak to him.

That makes him laugh. Loud and full and it warms you up from the inside out. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“No need to apologize for him projecting.” 

“Uh- ok. Noted. Do you share your roommate’s opinion or…?” His voice dips, like he’s trying to make it sound like a joke but he’s also extremely curious. 

You can taste it on the wind. It’s that same sort of something about him that you noticed before, but now it’s more pronounced. Now that there isn’t a window or a driveway between you. He’s drifted closer to your porch, titling his head a bit, and you, tipping your gaze down. 

It tastes a little like ozone and petrichor. Like the aftershocks of a storm deep in the forest. Woodsy and warm and sharp. It gets stuck at the back of your mouth, up into your nose. The sort of taste that has a smell and vice versa. 

He tastes like magic. 

“I haven’t really decided yet.” You tell him, keeping all of your thoughts locked tightly away. You wait a beat, watching his smile settle, before you introduce yourself. 

“You can call me Chan. It’s nice to meet you.” 

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

A few days before All Hallow’s Eve, you’re awoken by a hand on your shoulder. The feeling is so foreign you’re immediately awake, sitting up with your heart in your throat, blinking away the dizziness of sleep.

Seungmin is leaning over your bed, his mouth set into a perpetual frown. Wearing a terry cloth robe over his school uniform and a pair of slippers in the shape of puppies that you specially bought for him. 

“There’s a dog at your door.”

“What?” You're not awake enough to parse that sentence. 

He rolls his eyes. “There is a dog, and it’s on the back porch.” 

“...what?”

“I’m not repeating myself again. Do something about it, because it’s kind of creeping me out.”

“Creeping you out?" You question, because it feels like an incredibly ironic thing for Seungmin to be saying. "Aren’t you meant to be the creepy thing?” 

“It’s my night off.” He says, before walking away. Leaving you blinking and confused. 

There’s a dog? At your door?

What the fuck does he mean by that? You check the time as you're crawling out of bed and into a pair of house slippers. What is a dog doing on your porch at three in the morning? 

The house is dark and quiet as you shuffle down the stairs and through both the living room and kitchen. The only sound is the soft, almost haunting noise of Seungmin singing to himself somewhere else in the house. 

As you get closer to the back of your house, you can just barely make out a dark shape outside of the window. The moonlight seems to cast it in silhouette, and the curtains drawn over the window blur the outline.

Creeping closer, you quietly try to peek behind the curtain and out onto the porch. Holding your breath, you chance a look. Any other time of year, you might have taken your roommates word for it that there was just some dog outside. But you can never be too careful about the things lurking in the dark so close to the 31st. 

At first you can't really make out what it is. It's just a large shape. Made out of shadow as it shifts around and almost knocks over your chair. Your heart crawls its way back up into your throat at the sheer size of it. 

It's as you're trying to figure out what the fuck you're meant to do in situations like this, and also wondering why your protection wards don't seem to work against this thing, when it moves and catches the light. 

You're still keyed up, because you still can't find an explanation, but there's a sliver of relief at recognizing what the shape is. 

Sitting there, sniffing at the little potted plants you have balanced on the porch railing, is a massive animal. Seungmin called it a dog but it looks so much bigger. 

It has the proportions of a wolf, maybe. You've seen wolves before, on television and that one time you went to a wolf sanctuary up north. You have a rough estimate of what they're meant to look like. Except this wolf looks as if someone clicked and dragged at the edges and enlarged it. 

When it moves to turn, trying to be oh so careful of the small space it's found itself in, you notice the way it flinches and limps. It’s favoring one of its front paws. 

Oh. It's injured. Ok, so you have a gigantic injured wolf camped out on your back porch. Sure. Why not? Somehow you're convinced you've had weirder things happen to you. Seungmin is somehow your best friend and dead, that has to be the weirdest thing in your life, right?

Speaking of your dead roommate, you’re sure that if he were here right now, hovering over your shoulder and watching you pull out the first aid kit from under the sink, he'd say you have a bleeding heart. Or that you’re being idiotic by wanting to help the monster at your door. What else are you meant to do? Shoo it away? It’s injured! 

Gently opening the back door, you try to seem like as little of a threat as possible. You don't need this thing lunging and attacking the moment it sees you. You’re convinced that it could swallow you in one bite if it really wanted it. 

The moment the back door creaks open, its ears perk up and it’s moving to face you. Curious but cautious.

“Hi, uh- please don’t eat me?” You inch further out, keeping the door open in case you have to make a swift exit. The wolf moves out of your way, making room on the already cramped porch. It tips its head and flattens its ears. It doesn’t seem aggressive. 

If anything it looks like it’s in pain. 

Now that you’re out here, and you have a better view, you catch sight of blood on the boards of your porch. Smeared and shiny in the porch light. “Can I… help? If I help you, that means you can’t eat me. Ok?” 

The wolf whines, settling down in whatever empty space it can find and nosing at its front leg. 

This feels almost too surreal. You know nothing about who or what this wolf is, or why it decided to seek you out, but yet you’re crouching down and snapping open the first aid box. 

“Um, it’s nice to meet you. I’m just going to- sorry, I need to see where you’re hurt.” You start to talk to it, not even knowing if it can understand you. You want to reassure it, in any way you can manage. As you pull its, frankly huge paw into your lap, you remember to introduce yourself. It always pays to be polite. 

You try to hold in your gasp once you get a good look at where it’s injured. The entire foreleg is bleeding, the skin mangled. 

“Did you step in a bear trap? Holy shit. ” You breathe, pressing gauze to the open wounds, trying your best to staunch the blood. 

The next few minutes go by in near silence, as some part of your brain has completely shut off to the entire weirdness of this situation, and instead you focus solely on fixing whatever this is as best as you can. It’s far from a professional job, but the bleeding has stopped so you take that as a win. 

The entire time, you can feel the wolf staring at you. If anything, it just adds to the weird factor. It doesn’t act like a normal wolf. Sure, it flinches when you press too hard on its wounds or when you sterilize them, but it doesn’t growl or snap or pull away. It just closes its eyes tight and huffs through its nose. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, wrapping its leg and paw up in a bandage. “It’s almost over, I promise.” The wolf whines again, quiet and soft and you’re struck with the urge to press a kiss to its head.

When you’re done, and you tuck the bandage into itself, the wolf finally moves. It surges forward, and you flinch, bracing yourself for the worst. A wet nose presses itself to your cheek, and then you feel it bump its head into your own. The force of it almost knocks you over. 

“Oh, uh- you’re welcome.” 

As quickly as it had sat and offered you its paw, it’s getting up and stepping over you. Apparently it got what it wanted out of this exchange. 

It’s only later, after the wolf has limped its way into the woods, that you find yourself looking up at the night sky. It’s the first night of the full moon. A giant wolf that didn’t act much like a wolf showed up on the very first night of the full moon. There’s something about that statement that sticks into the folds of your brain, but you’re honestly too tired and covered in blood to make any real sense of it. 

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

The next afternoon, you see Chan getting out of his car, wearing a big grey hoodie and a beanie. Seeing him all bundled up is almost as good as seeing him run around shirtless. He somehow manages to pull off both looks flawlessly. 

You’re still tired from all of the sleep you didn’t get last night, but you’ve decided that sitting out on your front steps to get some much needed sunlight would do you well. 

You wave when he catches sight of you, offering a small smile as a hello. When he waves back you notice that his hand is bandaged, and the white cloth disappears into the cuff of his hoodie. 

Interesting.

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

“It's at the back door again.” Seungmin says, practically hanging over you. His hair is damp and a shocking shade of orange, and you are not awake enough to wonder how he managed to do that. 

“You have to stop waking me up like this.” You grumble, pushing him out of your face. 

“Your wolf is whining at the back door." 

“He’s not my wolf.” 

You have this sneaking suspicion, you’ve been fostering it all day, that says he’s not really anyone’s wolf but his own. For a multitude of reasons. 

“Well, this is the second night in a row and it’s getting kind of pathetic. I’m starting to feel bad for it.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll deal with him.” You pull a sweater on and shove your feet into slippers.

“Wait- he? Him? The wolf told you its pronouns?” Seungmin follows you down through the hall and down the stairs. 

“Oh, right. I forgot to tell you.” You stop in the living room, peeking just enough into the kitchen to notice the large shape outside of the window by the back door. “I’m pretty sure our neighbor is a werewolf.”

“I knew he was weird!” 

Moving closer to the back door, you’re a bit more resolved in your conclusion after saying it out loud. It feels like the most obvious answer. The only thing you’re still confused about is why did a werewolf seek you out when it was hurt? A werewolf who you’ve barely spoken to and only introduced yourself to earlier in the week?

You open the door, and there he is. Laying with the top half of his body on the porch and the rest of him sitting on the grass. His ears perk up when he sees you in the doorway. 

“Hi Chan. How’s your arm feeling?” You ask, with a tilt of your head and a genuine smile. Seungmin laughs from just behind your shoulder, giddy and loving every minute.

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

In the morning, there's a knock at your front door, and when you answer it, Chan is standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets and the brim of his cap pulled low over his eyes. 

He looks a little awkward and misplaced. You were expecting him to show up sooner or later. Especially after you called him by name last night.

“Hey. Long time no see.” You tease, smiling at him.

“Hi. I uh-” He cuts himself off with an embarrassed sort of laugh. “Right. Actually, that's kind of what I came to talk about.”

“About the werewolf thing?”

“Wow." He breathes, still amused and trying to get a handle on his laughter "Yeah, actually.” With his head tipped away from you, he resembles the wolf quite a bit. You can almost imagine him with his ears flattened and his big liquid eyes refusing to look at you. 

“Sure. Come in.” 

You direct him to the living room, and you know what it must look like to someone who's never seen it before. Different patterns and trinkets scattered around, candles on every surface. Seungmin calls it eclectic. But he says it with a twist to his voice so you can never tell if it's an insult or a compliment. 

After you're both seated on one of the couches, your knees dangerously close to touching, you prop your head on your fist and wait for him to speak first. 

This is his problem more than it is yours, plus he's the one that came to talk. 

“You don’t look like a werewolf.” Seungmin says, appearing from virtually nowhere. His hair is still orange, and it looks a lot better in the daylight. You'll have to tell him you like it, once you're not so annoyed with him of course. 

"Oh, uh-" 

“And you don't look like a dead boy. Leave him alone.” You snap at him. With love. 

Seungmin pouts and rolls his eyes, but he easily slips from the room.

“Sorry about him. He’s nosy.” 

Chan shrugs, hands fidgeting on his thighs. “It’s alright. I don’t really mind. Besides, I did come here to talk to you about the 'werewolf thing,' so it’s fine if he’s curious about it.” He actually adds finger quotes as he says it, which is kind of stupidly endearing.

"I'm the one who's curious. Like I said, he's just nosy." 

“Right, well. I want to apologize, firstly, for bothering you the other night. Or well, for the wolf bothering you.”

You tilt your head in curiosity. "Aren’t you and the wolf the same person?”

“It’s- complicated." Chan presses his lips together, before sighing and settling further into the cushions. "We are but… sometimes, especially during a full moon, the wolf can have a mind of his own. We’re not separate entities but- sometimes, when he’s feeling strong, I don’t get a say over our decisions.”

“Like stepping in a bear trap?”

“Or coming to you for help. Really, I am sorry.”

“You were bleeding, Chan. You don’t have to apologize for that.” 

Somehow, your hand has made its way to his knee. You press your fingertips into his jeans. He shifts closer, and his eyes are so dark and deep. 

"Besides. I kind of like the wolf." 

"What about me?" 

"I thought you weren't separate entities?" 

His dimple appears when he smiles, and you have to stop yourself from leaning close and pressing your thumb into it.

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

It's the last night of the full moon, with Halloween just around the corner, and you're stepping out onto the porch before Seungmin can wake you. 

You have a feeling, rooted deep underneath all of your organs, that you’re going to see Chan again tonight. He mentioned that the full moon has a strong effect on him, and when he’s a wolf he seems drawn to you. So you might as well meet him in the middle. 

Sitting out in your little chair, you wait. The night has turned chilly and the stars glitter brightly in the sky. Finally, movement at the tree line catches your attention. A dark shape that stalks back and forth, just out of sight. 

You don’t really have an explanation for all of this, for why a werewolf is seeking out your attention, but you can’t say that you’re complaining all that much. It’s nice to feel trusted by something five times your size and with teeth as thick as your fingers. 

Getting up and stepping from the porch, you move closer to the woods. Standing barefoot in the sparse grass of your backyard and tempting the shape to come closer. The moon is full and bright and the breeze bites at your bare ankles. The shape stares out at you, eyes glinting between two tree trunks. 

“C’mere.” You call, barely raising your voice. 

The shape moves, bridging the distance between you and the trees in the blink of an eye, and suddenly you have a mass of muscle and fur bearing down on you.

"Hey, you big puppy." The words are all tangled up with a laugh, as you try to push him away and actually get a good look at him. “Y’know, you’re very affectionate for someone who hasn’t known me all that long.” 

Wolf Chan doesn’t answer, of course he doesn’t, but he does huff and shift closer. He’s tall enough that you can look him in the eye without having to bend at all. You reach forward and press your palms to his cheeks, rubbing your thumbs along the soft fur of his face. He closes his eyes at the touch, huffing through his nose again.

He’s soft and warm, fur almost black in the moonlight. You don’t know why this has happened to the two of you, but it feels right. Like you’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time and didn’t even realize it until now. 

Suddenly he’s moving forward and pressing his nose into your cheek, getting as close as he can. Leaning his weight into you as his muzzle moves down and into the curve of your neck. You get a face full of his fur, which has you laughing again. 

You wrap your arms around his neck. Or as much of his neck as you can, returning the favor by nuzzling into his body and sighing in contentment. 

"We should really try this cuddling thing when you're human." 

-:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡ ･ﾟ✧:･.:-

The day before All Hallow’s Eve you have an armful of Chan, as you both lay on the big couch in your living room. You should probably be more wary of how close you two have gotten, and how quickly. But you can’t help but remember that feeling the other night, standing among the treeline and breathing in the wolf’s scent. Petrichor and pine trees. There’s just something right about it that you can’t find the words for. 

The morning after the full moon, Chan had come to your door and asked if the offer for some human cuddles was still available. You told him to take you to dinner first and then you’d decide. 

Which led you both to right now, days later, and almost stupidly inseparable. He hasn’t unwillingly shifted into a wolf since the full moon, so you’ve been able to spend the nights with a very human Chan. Getting to know him and talk to him. Touch your fingers to his skin. Learn his little habits and quirks. 

You smooth a hand over his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as he cuddles closer. He hums and moves around until he’s pressing his face into the slope of your neck. It’s warm and familiar and you squeeze him a little bit tighter. "The wolf really likes you."

"Oh. He does?"

Chan nods and hums again, happily. You can feel it vibrate through your skin and into your bones. "I do, yeah." 

“Well that’s good, because I really like you too.”

You both settle back into the quiet, listening to the ambient noises of the house. The fridge hums lowly from the kitchen. Seungmin is somewhere singing to himself again, you can hear it carry through the walls. Petting at the nape of Chan’s neck, you tip your chin and kiss the crown of his head. You could probably stay like this all day. 

He smells like petrichor and pine. Sharp and woodsy, like the forest and magic.

"Hey, if I dress up as Red Riding Hood, would you dress up as the Big Bad Wolf?" You ask, cutting through the comfortable silence. 

"How long have you been waiting to ask me that?" 

"Since I saw you getting out of your car with your arm all bandaged up." 

Chan laughs, big and loud, and he’s propping himself up so he can look down at you, eyes squinting and dimple appearing. He doesn’t say anything, just sort of shakes his head and then surges forward to kiss you soundly. 

You’re going to take that as a yes.

[napofawhalien]

I'LL SEE YOU THERE TOMORROW INKIGAYO (240407)

[napofawhalien]

[napofawhalien]

I have been sitting on my reblog of this for too long because whenever I think about what I read, the demon in my mind goes feral. This was absolutely wild in the best way and I'm not sure if I can give justice to the experience with coherent or quality thoughts because OH MY GOD what a ride!! This reblog is about to be very long, it kinda got away from me..

I love the studying scene, so much fun banter and silliness, you can really feel that it's just a group of besties hanging out. And all the members sound exactly like themselves, so true to what they each would say! Soobin and Taehyun sleeping is so funny to me, and accurate down to Tae's hat over his face! I could fill this reblog with examples of them doing things that are true to their real characters in the first sequence (as small as Gyu bouncing on his heels to keep warm) but then it would be soo long. I cackled a few times though!

Something you portray so well is dynamics between characters, and your dialogue is always 💯 And also tone and facial expressions: “So none of us make it?” It's such an open question the way he asks it, the hopeful twinge hitting the ending, twisting it into something it shouldn't be. Written right over his features the soft words unsaid, can't we? There has to be a way.

Hyuka being so needy is 🫠 agh it usually doesn't affect me when I read him behaving like this but you wrote it so enticingly!

You set the scene so well, created an eerie atmosphere with so much detail of the empty downstairs with the phone ringing and the reflections making it impossible to see outside, I'm in awe. I felt so much suspense just wondering where Kai had gone, but there was so much more suspense to come!

"You’ll be that pretty for me, won't you?" while the video is playing – I swear my heart skipped 😅

You're matching his every move, both of you circling the kitchen like two fighters waiting for the ding of a bell. 👏👏

It's taehyun that steps forward first, thumb reaching out to drag across your bottom lip. You open your mouth letting him press the digit flat against your tongue. “You’ll be good for us, won't you?” he asks, and you close your mouth sucking his finger as you nod. "I want first" - AND THEN HE JUST PUSHES YOU ODWN ONTO THE BED? HELLO??? THATS SO JDFSDKNSHELP

Your moan as he sinks into your warm heat is echoed by the rest of them, a choir of the perfect voices turned husky and wanting. okay pen game, what is this poetic line doing here-

Yeonjun walked around the bed, zeroing the camera in on you as your legs bend, heel of your feet pushing on taes thighs. Taehyun wraps his hands in your hair, tugging your head back, extending your throat to the camera, arching your back just right, “i want to be able to watch back how you looked while i fucked you okay?”  I'm actually going to go crazy though

“I want next!” gyu calls out, raising his hand like he knows the answer to a question - this made me laugh because I can imagine him exactly raising his hand excitedly like that!

Kai wraps his hand in your hair but unlike taehyun he forcefully pushes your head down into the mattress. The whole mit of his hand cups your skull - my Hueningkai hand kink brgrrrrrr but his whole demeanor when he has his turn got me like 🙉 growling for you to beg and the bed squeaking with his speed and not Yeonjun telling you to be louder >< have mercy

In conclusion, this is my brain every time I read or think about this:

black cherry flavored

ot5 txt x fem!reader

synopsis: how many ghostfaces are there again?

warnings: 🔞!!! gangbang, mentions of drinking, getting scared, fearplay? reader gets chased through house and doesnt know who it is, knifeplay (only used to cut off underwear), clit play, mean dom moments, filming during sex, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f!), creampie(s), marking, subspace, fingering, oral (m! rec), hair pulling!, overstim (f!rec), she/her used prob forgot some

wc: 9.2k (this one got away from me)

an: this is not proofread at all im so so so sorry forgive me sweet angel ily but I cannot believe october is over and this event has come to an end ;-; I hope you guys like this one! im a HUGE horror movie fan so I was excited to do this and hopefully it turned out well. I went with a different approach for a scream fic that was kinda based on different aspects from the movies and I hope you like it! feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the rest of the fics! [dumdum m.list]

"whats your favorite scary movie?"

You roll your eyes, hand coming up to cover the screen of your laptop. “Aren't you supposed to be doing your own work not pestering me about mine?” 

It was late in the night, the library dead silent besides the hum of the heater and faint typing on stiff keyboards. The door to the study space was cracked just enough to hear the elevator if it dinged, the indicator the floor would soon be closing for the cleaning staff. The clock on the wall told you it was close to one in the morning, only an hour away from the library being cleared and closed.  

“I'm avoiding the rest of my essay,” beomgyu shrugs, clicking his pen as a signal for an end to the line of questioning. “Annoying you just seemed like a better plan,” 

“Annoying all of us, I needed this done an hour ago,” yeonjun doesn't even look up from his laptop, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, lenses glossed over with the light from his screen, fingers speeding over the keys only to pause and jam the delete button. “Fuck, i lost my train of thought,” 

“It's already late, just turn it in tomorrow morning,” huening suggests, slouched back in his chair, thumbs nibbly swiveling on the joystick of his switch. “The syllabus said it was ten points off no matter how late after twelve you submit it,” 

“Don't talk to me right now, you got yours in on time. And I'm getting this done tonight whether I like it or not. I won't be able to handle looking at it tomorrow morning. the paper just won't get turned in at all if that happens,” yeonjuns back to typing furiously squinting at his laptop not noticing kais grin. 

“You should have listened to me about meeting up at nine, but nooo-” 

“Huening,” yeonjun warns. 

“I'm just saying…” 

Yeonjun picks up one of Soobin's scattered pens from the table, tossing it at Kai hitting him in the lap. And when Kai just laughs, Yeonjun picks up a few more to throw, the showering of pens making Kai yelp. 

“Shhh,” soobin doesn't even lift his head to see what's going on. He and tae had been trying to sleep for the better part of two hours, Taehyun having found success, sliding two chairs together to prop his legs up. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and hasn't said anything since closing them. Soobin only crossed his arms and laid his head down, leg bouncing showing he was still struggling to actually find it in him to sleep without his bed. 

The six of you usually booked the room on Friday nights from nine to two, blocking the time to try and catch up on work before the weekend. It was either the time you got the most work done or none at all. You're surprised it took beomgyu this long to finally turn away from his assignment at this point he's usually at the whiteboard doodling or trying to get everyone to play dirty hangman. 

It was easier to get all of you together here instead of one of your small dorms, the space hardly big enough for three people let alone six. In the library you didn't have to worry about cramming together, the fourth floors study spaces equipped with long tables and eight chairs. Out of the two libraries on campus this one didn't have many people visit often, especially not when the walk from any of the dorms was twice as long. The fourth floor was empty and quiet except for the group's laughter on nights you didn't worry about work. 

“You didn't answer that question,” beomgyu points out again, pointer finger pushing away your hand blocking the screen, “what's your favorite scary movie?” 

“I didn't answer it because I can't choose,” you confess, scrolling through the paper you're writing for class. 

“Is your homework twenty questions?” soobins voice is muffled, annoyed and sleep-ridden. 

“No-” 

beomgyu cuts you off before you could explain, brows scrunching as he reads. “Looks like it, this one is ‘what are the rules around sex’ there is no way this actually for your class,” 

“What?” this pulls soobins head up, the messy strands of his dark hair sticking up around his forehead. 

“Of course you wake up when you hear the word sex,” yeonjun quips, pursing his lips reading over his work on his screen. 

“No need to wake up you type so loud i couldn't fall asleep,” soobin says brushing his long fingers through his hair, you always noticed the later it got the grumpier he became, pouting lips and half lidded eyes always making an appearance after midnight. 

“It's for my film studies class. We’re learning about the rules of horror,” its clarification enough for soobin who nods but beomgyu lets his head tilt to the side, the vision of a question mark. 

“Rules? You can't just send a killer in, have them spill some blood, and call it a day?” 

“You could, but i'm sure it would follow a pattern, even without you realizing it,” scrolling through your work you pause on the first option. “First you have to think about the time period when the movie was filmed. Most of the popular ones ranged from the 80’s to the early 2000’s. A huge push in most cultures is the topics of sex, drugs, and money. It's the three things people try to control the most. Throw a bunch of badly behaving teens in with a psycho killer playing god and you can tell the masses how wrong something is. Like having sex,” 

“So wrong it would get you killed?” 

“Yup, in most, if not all, horror movies the people who have sex on screen or are known for sleeping around get killed off, leaving the poor virgin alive. Main characters who live to the end also don't drink, or do drugs. Rich people aren't safe, especially if you have a big empty house with lots of stairs, doors, and windows. The more for you to make the wrong decision not to exit from,” 

“Then who does live?” Kai asks, game paused in hand. 

“The girl next door lead, never her boyfriend, the camera man, unless you see him leave the group because you should never leave the group under any circumstances. But everyone else is fair game. Oh and if you say ‘i'll be right back,’ the lines a killer in and of itself,” 

“So I'd die because I like to have a good time?” yeonjun asks, fingers paused on his keys as he looks over at you. Everyone but tae is turned in your direction, listening intently. 

“Unless you're the killer, or lucky because you weren't in line of the camera when you decided it was smart enough to leave the house. It's very kill or be killed. Another rule is to never trust anyone,” 

“The list just gets longer and longer,” soobin sits back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head as he stretches, “you know i saw this one post on twitter that some people like the whole masked killer thing, gets them off,” 

“Of course you would be on twitter looking at stuff like that,” gyu fakes disappointment, shaking his head, “this is exactly why you wouldn't survive, you're a closeted perv,” 

“I don't know about closeted perv, he was openly scrolling past hentai the other day in the dorm,” yeonjun is back to typing, soobin kicking the foot of his chair. 

“Past it, i didn't pause on it,” 

“It was on your for you page! Clearly you have a habit of liking things akin to it,” 

“I don't know, I think it's kinda hot, the mask thing. or i guess more so the build up of fear, it's almost like foreplay, your pulse starts going, you get all flushed. And I did see this clip of these two guys dressed up…” this wouldn't be the first time any of you confessed to watching something that turned you on. All of you had been friends for years, growing up nothing had ever been an off limits topic. You can see the video in your head, the way they held the girl between them; how they manhandled her down onto the bed. 

“So you and soobin are both freaks,” beomgyu grins, the need to tease showing right in his eyes. 

“A threesome is not freaky,” Taehyun states, breaking his silence, hat still over his eyes, fully relaxed and laid back. If you hadn't known the sound of his voice you would have assumed he was still asleep, if he had even been asleep in the first place. 

“Agreed, anything over three is a little freaky,” soobin shrugs, bending over halfway out of his chair to pick up his fallen pens. 

“So would you? Sleep with more than two people at once?” gyu asks, the tilt back to his head, “this is the true test if you're freaky or not,” he chuckles. 

“I mean yeah… would you?” The question is directed at the room and you watch the question lay over them like fog, each of them thinking for a second, blank expressions all the way around.

Taehyun was the first to respond, shrugging his shoulders before nodding briefly, “I wouldn't let the opportunity slip by if it was offered,” It was a unanimous yes from all of them, the hummed agreement not too surprising. 

“Done!” yeonjun smashes one last key before stretching big, “finally fucking submitted, and right before we have to leave, im surprised the staff hasnt gotten around to our room yet to kick us out,”

Taehyun pulls his hat from his face, sitting up with a yawn, “good, i needed my bed two hours ago,” 

It always felt so good to sleep in on a saturday after a study session like this, you could already feel how cozy it would be to wrap up in your blanket. And even if the mattress was shit with or without the foam topper, it was better than laying out in the chairs like taehyun just was.  

All of you cleaned up the space, making sure to tuck in the chairs, pick up the discarded cups of late night bad decision coffee. Squishing in the elevator together, bags bumping into one another before you filed out; passing all the empty desks and empty aisles of books to make it out the front door. 

As soon as the outside air hits your cheeks you know it’s going to feel like a long walk back to the dorms. the boys tucking their ears into hoodies, zipping their jackets up, you and kai lived in the dorms on the opposite side of campus from the rest of them, their walk shorter by only a few minutes. 

“Okay we’re still on for dinner tomorrow right?” Kai asks the group. 

beomgyu’s jumping on the balls of his feet to try to generate some warmth. “literally just text us, I cannot think about tomorrow when i’m this cold and sleepy,”

“Yes, we’re still on, I've been craving anything other than dining hall food for the past week,” yeonjun adds, shivering as he pulls the straps of his bag closer to his chest. “We'll still meet up back here like usual,” he was walking backwards as he said it, already a few steps behind the others, “but see you guys tomorrow or should I say ‘i’ll be right back!’” he jokingly yells while the others wave goodbye. 

“don’t play jjunie, you might be next! don’t trust anyone!” He gives you a silent salute in response as you and Kai head out for your walk. 

Instinctively the two of you are shoulder to shoulder, bumping into one another every other step. Silence following each muffled step on the pavement. Sometimes the two of you didn't say anything until you split on the elevators. a quick ‘goodnight’ or ‘see you tomorrow’ thrown out as you step out on your floor, waving as the doors closed back up so he could go up one more level. Other nights it was the two of you giggling trying to keep it down as you walked under the moonlight, too late to be loud. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the wind hits the treeline. spots of orange light from the spaced out street lights are rare, casting the two of you in darkness every time the moon is behind the clouds; every several feet the hash light is back in your path. 

“So you'd live? In a horror movie?” Kai asks, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders to his ears from the cold. The wind is hitting him right in the face, tossing his hair from his eyes where he liked to keep it. He asks it so softly, the question highlighted in the divot of his brow, nose pink, face washed in the glow from the moon. 

“I'm not really a virgin so…,” it's not an embarrassing confession but when it's this late with his eyes trained solely on you it's like a spilled glass of red wine on white sheets. Impossible to look away from. 

“You wouldn't live for knowing how people survive?” 

“The smart ones usually die from bad luck, they know to head for the car waiting in the lot but forget the keys or if the keys are still in the ignition they never check the back seat. They know if you run into the woods to escape you can hide, but how unlucky for a rusty forgotten bare trap to be waiting for your next step. or if you miss that one here's a log to trip over, only to tumble down a hill and break your neck. Call the police? You're in the one movie a phone works only for you to forget never trust anyone because the police work for the killer,” 

“So none of us make it?” It's such an open question the way he asks it, the hopeful twinge hitting the ending, twisting it into something it shouldn't be. Written right over his features the soft words unsaid, can't we? There has to be a way.

“This isn't a movie kai, we’re fine,” 

“I know, it's only a question,” he's so easily flustered when alone, second guessing everything he says, as if one slip up will make you hate him. Now he's blushing, both of you falling back into comfortable silence. You can tell he's thinking by the way he's biting at his cheek, eyes watching his feet, making sure not to miss one step. You assume it's the end of what he has to say, his silence following you all the way back to your floor. The elevator doors opened finally giving him the courage to speak up. “Do you…” 

“Hum?” you lift your arm to hold the doors open, turned to see him struggling to get the words out. 

“Do you want to come with me to my parents cabin,” he says it all in a rush, avoiding looking you in the eyes just in case you reject him. “I mean you don't have to, the guys won't be there and if it makes you uncomfortable-” he cuts himself off, hand at the back of his neck, trying to rub away his embarrassment, “forget it- forget i said anything,” 

“It's okay, I'd love to go. where is it?” 

“Um it's like two hours from campus, my parents need me to check on it just cause and i thought, why not make a weekend of it? I mean, you can finally sleep on a real mattress, not whatever was issued here,” 

A weekend away did sound good, perfect after the semester you were having. And Kai is as sweet as they come, spending time with him wouldn't be bad at all. “Sure, when are you thinking?” 

“Next week?” 

It was all so very innocent, a sweet boy asking a girl to join him on a weekend getaway. He even packed you snacks for the drive, let you pick all the music, and made sure to carry your bag in when you arrived. 

You weren't stupid enough not to realize why you were here and the other boys didn't get an invite. The whole week you thought it over, pushing around the idea of being with him. And you could tell he was tossing it around all throughout the drive, periodically blushing without saying a thing to you, hands tightening on the steering wheel; knuckles turning white from the pressure. 

Halfway through the drive you realized exactly what he meant by cabin. Not the kind sitting near the edge of a trail, but one hidden deep into the woods for perfect seclusion. Kai had a late class to make up for and the two of you didn't get started on the drive until the sun was already setting behind the trees. Every shadow thrown across the road drew longer and longer as the car kept on. 

The gravel driveway leading up to the cabin was a stretch, but when you finally broke past the winding path the gleaming two story was not very cabin like. The windows reflecting the cars headlights back at you expanded most of the first level. Wraparound porch dotted with chairs, and a swinging bench. As soon as kai killed the engine the silence stumbled in, darkness spilling over the scene as you climbed out of your seat. 

“This place is huge,” you whisper, as if anything louder would disrupt the peace of the outdoors. You held your phone's flash up in front of you, huening fumbling to put the key into the lock on the first try. Each attempt from his shaking hand failed.

“Here,” you took the key into your own hand, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. 

“Sorry,” his voice wavering as he flips on the light switch, “i'm just- you know-,” he cuts himself off not wanting any more embarrassment to follow him. 

As soon as the lights come on you can't see anything outside, the windows a reflection of the room. A tv hanging over a huge stone fireplace, welcoming couches spaced out in a semi circle around a wooden coffee table, a bar topped with dusty glasses pushed in the corner. Kai kicks off his shoes by the door, walking further in you notice the dark hallway leading deeper into the first floor, a staircase waiting right by the entrance. But kai ignores it all while walking towards the kitchen. 

“I mostly have to check the doors and windows to make sure no one broke in,” he's trying to fill the silence, rambling to kill his nerves,”one year we had someone steal the tv, we don't really leave much now just incase, so that's why it looks so empty,” 

“People actually drive all the way out here and break in? The last time i saw a turn off the road before this one was an hour ago,” 

“You never know, it's best to just check and fill out a report sooner rather than later,” in the kitchen the backdoor is made of two foggy planes of glass, only the outline of kai seen in the weavering shape. He twists the knob and to your surprise it gives way and opens, “damn one of my sisters must have forgotten to lock it last they were here,” You lean your hip against the kitchen island, taking his explanation as is. 

“They come out here to check too?”

“Rarely they mostly come with their friends but stopped when they realized there is zero phone service this far out,” 

“There isn't?” you hadn't even checked to see if your phone was working, “what if someone had broken in? You have no phone to make a call from,” 

He chuckles pointing past your shoulder, right on the end of the counter a sleek black cordless landline rests in its holder, the blinking red light showing one waiting voicemail. “Sometimes it can be spotty but for the most part its a solid line of communication,” 

Hand still on the knob of the backdoor he locks the door before walking over to the pantry, finding only a crate of dusty wine and a stack of old jiffy pop popcorn. 

“Wait, I didn't think they made these anymore,” you reach out for the thin metal handle attached to the panshapped popcorn container. Shaking it you hear the rattle of the kernels, “when i was younger i thought it was just something people had in movies,” 

“My sisters and i love the stuff, it's also easy to pop outside over the fire,” 

“So all you leave is popcorn and wine when you're not staying here?” you tap the crate of wine with your foot, his grin boyish and shy. 

“It's a good thing for us now i guess,” 

It's what leads you to sharing the bottle, passing it by the neck as he gives you a tour of the house. His lips right at the spout, nerves loosening up with each sip he takes, creaking steps leading up the second floor. “And here is my room,” 

It’s right at the end of the hall, bed neatly made with a single stuffed penguin sitting against the pillows. “You left him here all alone?” You ask, picking up the plushie, Kai's standing in front of the closet, the slatted doors making up most of the wall behind him facing the bed. 

He shrugs placing the half full wine bottle down on his dresser, “someone needed to protect my prize possession,” he falls right onto the mattress, head thrown back, hair spilling against the pillows, “i always sleep so good in this bed,” cheeks flushed from the wine, half lidded eyes watching you from under his lashes. It's an invitation you don't pass up. 

You climb in after him, feeling relaxed from drinking even if it was only a little bit, you can tell it's helped him too, his lazy smile so blissful. “I'm sure this bed is good for other things too,” you don't even care about being bold, not alone with him under you as you dip your head, nose brushing his. 

The first kiss is so soft, a brush of lips together lasting no longer than a second. Kai whines in the back of his throat, an ache for more hidden in the desperate sound. It's addicting to have someone seem so needy for your attention, his legs instinctively tangling with yours, hand at the back of your neck pulling you back down for another kiss.

The two of you fumbling to feel at each other, your hand sliding up under his shirt to touch his warm skin, his stomach flexing at the brush of your cold fingertips. His hand at your waist pulling you closer to him, needing you as close as he can get you. The kiss is sloppy in seconds, his tongue sliding against yours, noses bumping as you breath in each other.  You can feel that he's semi-hard, pressed against your thigh between his legs. 

He's a mess, whimpering when you pull away to take off your sweater, leaving you braless in a tank top. greedy hands back on you, pulling you back down on top of him, he’s grinding onto you desperately, fully hard from only kissing. 

every little noise he makes is caught in your mouth, his fingers fumbling for the button on your jeans. you have to pull away after his failed attempt, giggling as you brush his hair back, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening we have all night,” you remind him, “I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” he's looking up at you with total devotion, with an expression that lets you know he'd let you do anything if you asked. 

“Please?” and it doesn't even matter what he's begging for, you would let him do just about anything in return for looking at you like that. 

You're quick to rid yourself of your pants, falling back to the bed and letting him roll on top of you. Hands in his hair as he presses into you, one hand holding himself up while the other snakes down between you two. The soft gasp you let out eggs him on, drawing soft circles over your clothed clit like he knows exactly what to do. You twist your fingers into his hair, his lips tracing down your neck, hips back to grinding into your thigh. At first you don't notice the smell of popcorn. It's faint upstairs, wafting in through the vents, buttery and warm as kai slips his fingers into you. Your hips rolling on his hand, meeting every thrust, heel of his palm pressed to your clit. 

It isn't until the popcorn starts to burn that you say something, the tang in the air subtle as kai sucks hickeys on your sensitive skin. “Is something on fire?” 

Kai pulls away from the crook of your neck, “what the fuck?” breathing deeply to catch the scent. It's clear in the air now, hanging around like a question. “Stay here,” 

it's so unceremonious when he pulls his hand from your panties, fingers dropping onto his tongue to clear them, “i'll be right back, okay?” 

“O-okay,” you're confused more than anything, knees pulling in feeling overly exposed all of a sudden. It's silent in the house, the soundtrack of your kissing dimmed to nothing, before it's replaced with the creaking of his dissipating steps down the stairs. 

You feel a little foolish sitting in his bed, the crumpled sheets and discarded plushie a reminder that this is not normal for a hook up at all. Letting out a long breath you push out of the bed, all relaxation felt before now gone as you reach for the wine bottle on the dresser. You take a heavy swig from the bottle, needing your courage back. It felt silly to worry over burnt popcorn. 

Your stomach turns, sickening realization settling in. the two of you had only picked up the wine, neither of you even put the jiffy pop close to the stove's burners. You're quick to look for your phone, checking in the pile of your clothes on the floor, and finding nothing. Your bag was by the door downstairs, right next to the shoes, if your phone wasnt up here it was bound to be in your bag. 

You didn't say anything as you made it to the top of the stairs, not until the phone rang. Not the familiar song that came through your speakers but the deft echo of a warning siren. The kind of ringtone that was played in a movie when someone was receiving bad news, and it didn't stop, traveling up the stairs, playing once, twice, until nothing but silence. 

“Huening?” your voice wasn't as strong as you wished, faulting at the end as you took your first step down the stairs. 

No response. 

The last step creaks under your weight, the sound triggering the phone, that chilling ringtone back in the air. All the lights are on, nothing outside the windows visible as you watch your reflection walk past. You look right at the front door as you walk past, all of your things still in place, even Kai's shoes are still right where he left them. 

In the kitchen you find the ringing phone, the little screen bright green as it shows the incoming call. The skins faucet turned on, the pelting water beating down on the thin aluminum foil of the jiffy pop, hastily tossed into the basin. Thin rivulets of smoke still curling from the singed popcorn. The stove's gas burner still lit with a blue flame. 

The ringing continues as you turn everything off, feeling suddenly too cold and alone standing under the golden lights. It doesn't help that you're only dressed in your panties and tanktop, bare feet padding across the tile to pick you the phone. 

Unknown caller. Read the directory, not even the number shown underneath. You hit answer before you could think better of it. 

“Hello?” your pulse was in your ears, washing down your neck, but you're stunned to recognize the voice over the phone. 

“What's your favorite scary movie?” 

You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you respond, “kai, are you using the ghostface voice on me right now? You already had your hand down my pants no need for the theatrics,” 

You can't even pick up a trace of his real voice over the filter, the soft chuckle on the other line trickling down your spine. “You didn't answer my question, you have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“So we’re quoting the movie now?” you ask, looking around the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop. “Should i go all in and start asking to make it to the sequel?” 

He chuckles, so soft and sensual, unlike his usual boisterous laugh. “Maybe…but a little birdie told me that you're not a virgin and you know what happens to those who sleep around right?” 

“Enlighten me,” you cross your arms smiling at your reflection in the window. It's a bit silly to be here roleplaying in the first place but it's not like you're against it. What gets you is that it's coming from kai of all people. So soft and sweet, giggling and shyly walking you home. But you truly never know what a persons into until you're faced first with it. 

“They don't last very long,” so smug as he says it. 

“They don't?” 

“Nope, and you have a list of things that you've already done wrong. I don't know if you truly deserve to make it to the sequel,” 

“Oh? What did I do wrong?” you smile, checking out your nails, thumb running along the bed of your cuticles as you listen. 

“Humm, let me see. First you're all alone in that big old house, did anyone ever tell you never to go into the dark and scary woods all alone?” 

“I'm not alone, i have you,” 

He ignores the last half of your statement, “Aren't you? hum, funny how i don't see the boytoy around anymore,” 

“I can't believe you planned all of this, who knew you would be so freaky? I can't say that it doesn't turn me on though,” 

“Oh? How cute that you still think I'm your little boyfriend. I mean didn't you see the signs? The door was unlocked in the back, popcorn on the stove when you didn't put it there, and now a missing boy toy. It's a shame you seem to have forgotten everything you've learned in class, or maybe it was the wine,” 

“A few sips won't make me stupid, seriously huening come out, i want to get back into your bed,” you push off the counter, walking back toward the living room until you're stopped dead in your tracks. The sound isn't coming from the phone but just up ahead around the corner.

Your laugh echoes in the empty house, followed by your own words, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening, we have all night, I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” 

You follow each line into the living room, the tv on and showing a video of only minutes ago. 

“Please?” kais weavering voice seems so loud here instead of between you two. 

You can see yourself push down your pants, watch the way the two of you fall right back into each other. Only now you're seeing it from the perspective of the closet, it's the only place you could think of that he would have placed the camera. The slats of the wood even in frame. It's like someone dropped a bucket of ice water on top of you. Standing in front of the tv as if you're Carrie from the prom and someones set up a cruel joke. 

“Cute huh?” the voice over the phone asks, that little laugh following right after, “i sure think it is. Look at the way your body reacts to his fingers, you’ll be that pretty for me won't you?” 

You feel the hair on the back of your neck rise, the house too big for this kind of game. Even just standing there now alone it felt like you were a fish in a bowl, stuck to be watched from all sides. And not from the video but from the figure standing right on the outside of the window. 

He was dressed in all black, nothing like what kai had been wearing before. And covering his face the dripping white mask of ghostface. You only catch a glimpse because the lights are on but it's enough to remind you that maybe this isn't a joke. “Are you outside?” 

“I don't know? Am i?” but as he says it you see down the hallway a dark figure step out of a doorway. 

Everything in you freezes, your heart rate plummeting, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin. You hadn't even noticed your fingers had been trembling before, not until your deathgrip on the phone starts to hurt. “Don't hang up on me,” he warns over the line, but the person down the hall doesnt even have a phone in sight, his slow prowl reminding you to move. 

You take off back towards the kitchen, the back door playing in your head as the best possible exit but as soon as you're in front of it, tugging on a door knob needs to be unlocked you see the haze reflection of two more figures waiting right against the glass. You can hear the laugh of the person on the phone even if it's not to your ear as you rush to pull open any drawer that might have something in it to protect you. But every pull leads you to find nothing at all, “what the fuck!” 

The door shakes as they try to pull it open, the glass rattling as you lift the phone back to your ear, “okay huening, that's enough, i get it, ha ha, funny, but seriously-” 

“Were you looking for a knife?” he cuts you off, voice so calm when you're falling apart. 

“What?” you're exasperated, huffing the question like it's a slap in the face. 

“I know where one is, if you want it,” 

It's then that the masked man from the hall comes into the kitchen, the steel knife in his hands glinting in the light. “You have to be fucking kidding me right now,” youre desprate to find an explanation for this. The island is between the two of you, his head tilting to the side, the open mouth of the mask mocking you as he takes slow steps around the marble. You're matching his every move, both of you circling the kitchen like two fighters waiting for the ding of a bell. 

The door rattles again, the sound making you yelp, hand pressed to your racing heart. It's the distraction you need to bolt right through the kitchens arch way and run to the front door. 

You're moving so fast you have little time to slow down, partially slamming into the door, fingers fast to twist the locks. 

As soon as it's opened you're standing face to face with another ghostface mask, his black clad outfit sticking to his figure as he towers over you, phone hovering right over the mask's gaping mouth. “Hum not out the front door i guess,” 

You try to slam the door shut but his boot clad foot moves fast catching it right before it could close completely. Spinning you run towards the stairs, the sound of their following footsteps close behind. The door to the bedroom is still wide open as you barrel through turning around and throwing the door closed and twisting the lock. 

But it's only a moment of relief when you feel a hand clasp around your mouth. Your scream is muffled from their fingers, your eyes closing as if that would fix the situation, the phone in your hand falling to the floor, “Shhh it's okay,” Kai whispers, a strong arm wrapping around your middle pulling you closer to him. 

The weight is lifted off your shoulders hearing his voice, hands wrapping around the one covering your mouth to tug it away. “What is going on?” you ask, pulling yourself away from him. your back is to the door and he steps closer backing you right up against it. 

“Didn't you say you found it kinda hot, the whole fear thing?” he asks, leaning close enough to kiss, “i wanted to make it extra special for you, and you don't mind if we all share you, right?” his knuckle lifts your chin up so you’re eye to eye, nose to nose, his normal shy smile turned devilish. “All you have to do is say no,” 

It was crazy to say yes. your heart still pounding, breathing only just starting to regulate, and yet you want him, you want them. “I-I don’t- I don’t want to say no,” 

“Then don’t,” he pushed his whole body against yours, engulfing you in his warmth, taking you for another kiss like you hadn’t left the room at all. You don't even notice him unlocking the door, not until the knob is shaking against your back. 

Kai pulls you towards the bed, the closet doors behind him open showing the empty space with a lone camera on a tripod. The red light looking back at you like a warning, you looked right down the barrel of the lens wondering if you would ever see this again, and praying that you did. Kai fit his fingers over you eyes, “don't look at it, don’t think about its there,” 

You hear a chuckle, so similar to the one over the phone, only without the filter. Now so easily recognizable as yeonjun, you can picture the way his mouth looks as he does it, his canines on display as he smirks. You don't even have to see him to know, you've known all of them so long you're sure one touch and you could guess who was who. And with both of kais hands on your eyes the brush of someone's fingers on your cheek lets you know exactly who it is. Soobins hands are the softest of the bunch and your face tilts in his direction. “Soobin?”

he lets out a huff of a laugh, “you caught me. And you know it's kind of rude not to open the back door when we come knocking,” 

“You scared me,” it's a soft confession that they all chuckle at. 

“Did we?” beomgyu teases, so much closer than you expected, the ghost of his touch going up your arm, goosebumps popping up along the trail. 

Your senses are on overdrive, pulse loud enough to be heard if one listens close enough, every little thing heightened by your fading fear and covered eyes. You feel a hand slip down your stomach stopping right before your panty line, a single finger sliding under the waistline to pull it and let it snap back against your skin. You jolt from the contact, body flush with kai’s, his hard cock pressed to your back. 

You hear rustling from the closet, and kai lets you go, letting you see yeonjun taking the camera in hand. He's adjusting the viewfinder, the others standing in a circle around you, it should be intimidating, the masks off now, looking at you like you're something to eat. It's taehyun that steps forward first, thumb reaching out to drag across your bottom lip. You open your mouth letting him press the digit flat against your tongue. 

“You’ll be good for us, won't you?” he asks, and you close your mouth sucking his finger as you nod. He smirks, “i want first,” 

It's all he says before he's pushing you down on the bed. It's so quick the air is almost knocked right out of you, your hands scrambling to find purchase on the beds duvet cover. It's almost a shame how wet you already are, the way your panties are cut away, the cold knife in taehyuns free hand only just brushing your skin. The fabric tossed around from person to person. “I did most of the work,” kai adds as you bury your face into the sheets, “she wouldn't be this prepped if i didn't start early,” 

“And that's why you have to wait,” “You didn't even get her off,” they talk over each other.  

“You guys didn't give me time!” kai tries but they ignore him when you give a sharp whine. 

Taehyun shoves his fingers right into you, your body so willing to take him in. but you hear his belt being undone with one hand, and it's a shame you cant see the way his cock looks from this angle, because as he pressed the tip right at your entrance, slick fingers helping to lude up his veiny shaft, you can tell he's going to be the perfect stretch. 

Your moan as he sinks into your warm heat is echoed by the rest of them, a choir of the perfect voices turned husky and wanting. “Holy shit,” teahyun breathes his hand pressed right to your lower back, your feet dangling right off the edge of the bed, toes only just barely touching the ground. 

“Doesn't she feel amazing?” kai asks, “fuck i bet she fits like a fucking dream,” gyu adds as he walks over to the other side of the bed climbing in to lay against the headboard. His zipper was already undone, pants low on his hips as he watched you get pounded into. 

Because tae was not holding back anymore, it felt like he had been waiting all night for this exact moment, to chase his high without question. And your pussy was so welcoming, sucking him in, practically begging for his cum. 

Yeonjun walked around the bed, zeroing the camera in on you as your legs bend, heel of your feet pushing on taes thighs. Taehyun wraps his hands in your hair, tugging your head back, extending your throat to the camera, arching your back just right, “i want to be able to watch back how you looked while i fucked you okay?” 

“Oh, look at that, huening marked up our toy already,” soobin reaches out a finger, tracing over the hickey kai had left on your skin, your eyes were wide and begging as you watched him, mouth caught open in a moan as taes thrusts turned sloppy. “Fuck, look at that mouth,” 

yeonjun bent down to catch the image. “I think someone needs to fill it,” 

Soobin didn't need to be told twice. He was tugging his cock out of his jeans, leaking precum already dotting the tip as he gave it long languid strokes. Your mouth was already watering at the sight, knowing taking him down your throat would be a task but one you wouldn't back away from. 

But taehyun was already cumming, orgasm cresting as he slammed his hips into your ass, cock twitching as he let out a deep rumbling moan. He let go of your hair, head falling forward into the duvet as he stilled inside you pressing as close as he could get, the tip of his cock hitting you just right as he spilled inside you. 

“I want next!” gyu calls out, raising his hand like he knows the answer to a question. 

“No-” soobin starts but beomgyu is already moving from his stop on the bed as taehyun pulls out, the gush of warmth leaving your cunt dripping down your thighs. Yeonjun is quick to catch the sight on film. 

“Look at that,” it sounds so endearing coming from him, a true sight to behold as you whine from the feeling of being empty. You feel like a ragdoll as soobin pulls on you, tugging you further up the bed so that you're on your hands and knees in front of him. 

“Open,” his tip is already prodding at your lips. You feel the bed dip behind you, gyu finding his place as he drags his fingers through the leaking cum traveling down your legs, he does his best to shove it right back into you, fingers dragging over your clit, circling it as soobin shoves his cock right into your mouth. 

You give a muffled yelp, tongue flattening to make it easier for him to slide in and out of. His head is rolling back, hair spilling around his ears as he moans. He twists his fingers in your hair, both hands wrapping around your head to bob you up and down on his dick like his own personal toy. You're nails dig into the sheets, the sloppy sounds of him fucking your throat taking up the most sound. 

Beomgyu keeps one hand on your clit and the other guides his cock into you, he's quick to snap his hips forward sending you forward on soobin, until you're choking for air. Moans sending vibrations up along soobins shaft. His eyes tighten, needing to pull away before he cums too quickly, face flushed red as rivulets of your saliva still connect you to him. 

The constant pressure put on your clit from beomgyus fingers has your stomach tightening in knots. Now that you're not taking soobin in beomgyu picks up his pace, the skin on skin slapping sounds melding with your whines. “I want you to cum for me, i want to be the first one to make you cum, please,” he sounds so desperate, not matching the way he drills into you, tip hitting your cervix in a mix of painful pleasure. He can feel your fluttering walls, every particularly hard thrust making your cunt react just right. And when you cum hes a blubbering mess, “fuck fuck fuck-” not expecting to cum so fast, but youre drawing it out of him, with each little sound you make. He's almost embarrassed by how long he cums for, head falling forward to rest on your shoulder blade, his dick pulsing inside you, curses turning to nonsense, the drawn out, “fuuu- ahh, ah,”  

“Look at how pretty she looks when she cums,” yeonjun smiles, bringing the camera close to catch the way you are trying to blink the spots from your vision, “soobin next? Or maybe kai? Both of them seem to have waited so long for you,” 

Kai leans back against the dresser, arms crossed as he watches you, expressionless as he follows the shape of your body. Only one of your tank tops straps are on, your breasts already spilling out from the thin fabric, soobins eyes caught on your peaked nipples as he strokes himself. But you look back over to huening, the way he's standing there like he's unaffected at all. But you know it's not true, not when he's straining in his pants, the bulge itself drives you insane. “Hyuka?” 

The shyness in your voice is what does it for him, beomgyu only just pulling out of you with a hiss. More cum dribbling out as he pushes his hair back looking at his handiwork. Yeonjun is right next to him too, getting the perfect shot. 

Taehyun languidly lounges back against the headboard, cock still hard as it rests against his stomach, hand wrapped around the base as he watches you. It distracts you enough not to see kai moving replacing gyus spot. 

Kai wraps his hand in your hair but unlike taehyun he forcefully pushes your head down into the mattress. The whole mit of his hand cups your skull, your whimper making him chuckle. His free hands traced up your side, slipping under your tank top as he feels along your skin. “You know I was thinking about this the whole walk back after our study night?” his hand dips down fingers sliding along your wetness, “i kept thinking about how perfect it would be to absolutely ruin you,” 

You're already sensitive from finishing already and kai can tell as your thighs tremble but it wont stop him from pinching your clit. Your hips push back against him, yelping as he goes on to rub circles over the bundle of nerves. “Seeing it happen- watching you get used as a little cum dump is so much better than I ever imagined,” he works your clit, building up his speed until your back is arching, nails biting into your palm as you feel your orgasm building too quickly. You're trying to rock back into his hand but the way he has you bent helps very little. Your cries heighten until he pulls it all away. 

“No huening please!” 

“Aww how cute, she's begging,” beomgyu laughs and you're whimpering in response. 

“Kai…please!” 

“You're already doing so well because i want you begging to be filled with my cum, crying from how badly you want it,” his hand goes back to your cunt, pressing into your clit rubbing at a pace that has you seeing stars, your hands scratch out for looking for anything to hold onto. Yeonjun takes your hand in his keeping the camera facing your reaction as your eyes roll back. Its in the middle of your climax that kai pushes his cock into you, finding a punishing rhythm as he fucks you into the matterss. 

“Beg for it,” he growls, hand in your hair twisting in the strands. You can feel him all the way to your throat, stretched out so good, he presses right into your gspot like he was made for you. 

“P-please- hyuka i need it- i-” you cant even get the words out anymore, the squeaking of the bed building as he increases his speed. You can hear the wet sounds of the other boys jerking off, “i want your c-cum, i need it,” 

“Louder,” yeonjun mutters in front of you, your death grip on his hand not loosening anytime soon. 

“I want it! I need your cum, please!” But Huenings is so lost chasing his own high that he drops his hand from your clit to grab your hip, his bruising hold and brutal thrusts making you cry out. 

Beomgyu reaches down under you, fingers finding just the right rhythm to send you over the edge at the same time kai cums. His faltering thrusts and throaty moans makes you feel weak. Your cunt is strangling his cock, his release pushed as deep as he could get it into you. When he pulls out you collapse onto the bed, completely used up. 

It feels never ending body too tired already when you feel soobin climb into the bed. He lays right behind your exhausted form, both of you on your sides facing yeonjun, “look who's next, do you think you could get another one out of her? I hear you're only a freak in theory and not practice,” 

But soobin doesn't take the bait, one hand sliding under you and wrapping around your chest, hand coming up to cup your breast, fingers twisting your hard nipple, and the other lifting your leg to get better access to your leaking cunt. Your thighs are so sticky soobins fingers slip on his hold, having to tighten his grip to make sure he can keep you open. He's been ready since the start, his cock aching as it prods your now puffy swollen cunt, so used you're sure you would be sore for days. 

When he sinks in your whimpers are so soft they are hardly heard. Yeonjun is kneeling on the floor, arm holding the camera resting on the bed. He captures the way soobins dick slides in with ease, no resistance now with how much slick is coming out of you. Every drag of soobins cock comes away stained in white. A ring of the combined cum circling the base, balls sticking to your skin with every thrust. 

His breathy moans are lost against your neck, pitiful little sounds before he's muttering, “im sorry, oh god- im-” 

“Don't you dare cum yet,” yeonjun warns soobin, who pauses his thrusts trying to listen but can't find it in him to restrain. Yeonjuns fingers pinch at your clit, your whole body reacting to the feeling, jolting you back to life as you cum. soobin unable to handle the pressure and is a complete mess, whimpering as he pulls you closer, hugging you as if he could merge bodies. 

It took him a while to finally pull out, a much needed break for only a few breaths before yeonjun passes the camera to taehyun to keep the filming going. You can feel the weakness all the way down to your bones, sure if you stand you could collapse to the floor, legs too weak to hold you up. But yeonjun is looking at you like you're being served on a silver platter, all done up with all the best fixings. 

“Best for last huh?” he grins climbing over you brushing under your eye to catch a single tear that's fallen from your overstimulation. “Its so fun to see you so dumb on cock, so unlike how we usually see you,” 

You hum in response as he pushes your legs open, hands at the back of your knees pushing them to your chest. When he puts them over his shoulders you whimper, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck as he sinks into your wet heat. Bent in half you feel your toes curling, sure that if you came one more time you would be better off sleeping for the next year. “I think this is good practice, don't you?” he asks like you'll respond to him with anything other than a string of muffled whimpers. Your body is coated in a thin layer of sweat, sticking to his skin as he takes a slow pace. It's like he's apologizing, lips peppering across your cheek, down your neck. “We’ll keep you so happy, stuffed full like you deserve. Would you like that?” 

You're nodding, eyes closing as he uses you. You don't even notice the way your body is reacting, that slow rise of your next orgasm building up, “i-” you can’t think about cumming again already feeling so dumbed out. 

“Hum? Are you going to cum, pretty?” he picks up his pace, sinking his hips and hitting you right against your g spot. Your head rolls back as it washes over you, body tightening until you feel like you’ve combusted into little particles. “Oh look at that, so perfect for me, your pussy feels so good when it's squeezing me like this,” it's all he says before he’s trembling, a guttural moan taking over as he cums, you swear you can feel its warmth spreading throughout you. And when he pulls out he takes the camera back from taehyun focusing it in on the sight of all the combined release staining your folds. 

“Look at how she pushes it out,” beomgyu says, mesmerized by the way you look leaking so much cum. But it's Kai who leans down, fingers collecting anything he can before shoving all the cream right back into you. “Its almost like she wants us to fuck it right back in,” 

🏷taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 @tomorrowxforever r @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii i @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae @nessaassen02 @iluvhyukaa @mrsjohnnysuh @wand3rlustm3

thank you so much to @beomiracles @prince-jjae and @thetxtdevil for beta/proofreading the first part of this fic!

[napofawhalien]

millions of songs in the world, but yours is my favourite

{cr. namuspromised, 0613data, jung-koook}

+ honorable mentions

[napofawhalien]

REBLOGGINF UR REBLOG BUT THAT GENUINELY HAD ME TREARING UP I LOVE YOU SM

You're welcome! You chose violence and pulled out all the stops for that one huh 😵‍💫

[napofawhalien]

I read this at 8 in the morning totally unprepared for what I was getting myself into.. I now have to live the rest of the day with thoughts of drummer Soobin swirling in my head. Didn't know we needed drummer Soobin until now!

"Toss me those sweatpants, hm?" DANGER DANGER ISHSKA

"Shh, yn, just look at me, alright?" – My brain go brrrr. Ada your Soobin is >>>

WILL YOU LAY DOWN FOR ME

CANT YOU TRUST ME TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD

RAAAAH stop omg

No but wet hair lusty Soobin is an absolute vision and we are being fed

my thoughts stop here for a bit because I short circuited and lost all sanity holy shit

Okay I'm back

He smirks down at you, eyes bright, hair falling across his forehead. “It’s gonna fit, baby, I’ve made it fit before..~” He lowers his lips to your ear. “And even if it doesn’t, you’re gonna take it like a good girl, won’t you?” ⚠️⚡️💥🌋🚨🚑

SPITTIG IN YOUR MOUTH?, Ada do you actually want me to go insane? Gah

"Just making sure you won't leave me again"

“It’s okay, I swear, let me love you this time, please?” 🫠🫠

Taehyun 🤣 Him being so causal about sticking his head in the door when he knows what's going on is hilarious

THE ENDING- I was not expecting that, now I'm truly gone 🫠

(Un)expected Reunion [Choi Soobin]

summary: when you've had enough, you've had enough. two and a half years without contact and you can't stand it anymore. you miss your best friend-- if you can even call him that anymore. you miss him enough, in fact, to get a backstage pass to his next concert just to be sure you'll get a chance to talk to him. genre: smut, rockstar!au, childhood friends to strangers to lovers warnings: yeonjuns kinda sleazy (but not really), toxic!soobin, drumstick fucking, size training, both soobin and mc are 24, possessive soobin, hickeys, spit kink, multiple orgasms, piv sex, multiple rounds, insinuates they’ve had sex in the past, cunnilingus, mean!dom!soobin and soft!dom!soobin, dacryphilia, breeding kink, daddy kink, calls her ‘slut’, thigh and tit slapping, brief bulge kink word count: 4.8k 🎧 – this is me trying (taylor swift) + into you (ariana grande) + dress (taylor swift) a/n- this is for @napofmoon ‘s event from last year ToT + happy bday soobin!! please be well and take care of yourself <3 tagging: @304files , @yoseicour

You take a deep breath and square your shoulders, unsure of exactly how ready for this you are. You haven’t seen Soobin in years, after all. And obviously you want to see him, you wouldn’t be here with a backstage pass if you didn’t. (You wouldn’t be constantly checking his socials without following him either.)

But yeah, the thought of seeing your old best friend for the first time in years has you more than a little anxious, heart beating quicker than you’d like it to be as you walk into the concert venue. It’s bigger than you thought- not a stadium, of course, but not a theater like they’d been playing the past few years. And damn, when you get inside, it is packed. Yes, you knew they were sold out, but this many people here to see someone you’ve known for years… it’s shocking to you. You can’t help but feel a little proud of him and his bandmates that you’ve never met.

You head to one of the merchandise stands, buying a few shirts you’ll cut up later, and then go to find your reserved seat. It’s a few rows back– you don’t necessarily want Soobin seeing you before you’re ready for him to see you. Once you find it, setting down your things under your seat, you wish you’d brought a friend with you. The concert doesn’t start for 10 minutes and everyone around you seems like they all have someone to talk to. It’s whatever. You can last 10 minutes, especially once you pull out your phone. You scroll for a bit (on his Insta, of course), only snapping out of your concentration when the lights dim and a roar so loud your ears ring takes over the crowd.

And it’s only seconds later that five lithe figures appear on the stage.

A boy with long brown hair and a side profile that could kill strums an electric guitar, your eyes stalling on the deftness with which he plays. Whereas he stands on the right, a tall boy with chocolate-chip moles freckling his cheek stands on the left, and plays a bass you can feel in your heart. In the middle, an orange-haired guy smirks at the crowd before closing his eyes to sing the opening line to their first song of the night, and when the drums kick in from the far right, your eyes entirely skip over the black-haired boy on keyboard.

And shit, there he is.

Your black-haired best friend, height skewed by the fact that he’s sitting on the drum seat,  a wide, concentrated smile on his face as the drumsticks hit the drums. He looks ethereal, in his element like this, big hands making the smoothed sticks almost seem small.

You’re not sure if he’s as eye-catching to the other people in the crowd as he is to you, but you can barely take your eyes off him throughout the entire set.

Sweat sticks his hair to his forehead when he joins the other members for a bow, waving at the crowd with a wide, elated grin. You’re pretty sure you make eye contact for a split second and his eyes widen almost imperceptibly, but he runs to catch up with the others to go backstage with one last wave to the audience.

The lights above turn on with a loud noise, and slowly people begin drifting out into the aisles and filing out of the building. You allow yourself a moment to collect your emotions before heading to the general direction of the stage. With shaking hands disguised as confidence, you flash your backstage pass to the two security guards stationed outside an entrance door. And when they let you pass, you take a pause. Maybe this was a bad idea. It’s been years, he might not even recognize you. Or worse, maybe he cut off contact on purpose to avoid having to see you anymore. What if he doesn’t even want you here?

You don’t have long to speculate as you force yourself to round the corner, because there he is, bent in half to fiddle with the drum set. Soobin straightens, looking around the room before his brown eyes meet yours. His jaw goes slack, and the tall blonde boy looks up as well when he notices Soobin hasn’t answered.

He looks between the two of you. “Hyung, do you know her?”

You wait for Soobin’s response, squeezing your hands into fists, and when he gives a stupored nod, you can’t help but relax a little. “Hey, Soobinnie.” You give an awkward wave.

Soobin crosses the room in three wide strides, reaching you in a matter of moments, and you look up at him for a split second before he pulls you in for a hug so tight that you can feel exactly how well he fills out that shirt.

“I missed you so much,” he mumbles in your ear, and you relax entirely into his arms, face in his neck.

“I missed you too, so much. When you stopped calling, I…” Tears well up in your eyes, and you can feel how his arms instinctively tighten further around you.

“Shh, it’s okay n/n, promise, you’re here now and I’ve got you, alright?” You can hear the smile in his response, and when you break the hug, you can see it too, his pretty eye smile warming you just the way it used to.

Soobin notices the blonde boy still watching and finally breaks the prolonged eye contact between the two of you. “Here, let me introduce you to everyone. This is Kai, our bass player, and the youngest. The carrothead is Yeonjun, our lead singer. For a reason. He’s also the oldest. The brunette is Beomgyu, he’s the guitar player, and the last one is Taehyun, our keyboardist and main backup vocalist. The range, I swear.” 

He gestures to each of them in turn, and one by one they wave. “Everyone, this is y/n. We grew up together.”

Yeonjun shoots you a flirty smile over the table in the middle of the room, and as much as you don’t want it to, it makes you weak. So this is why half the crowd was screaming his name specifically.

You’re caught off guard when Soobin asks what you’ve been up to, and it surprises you how easily you slip into old habits once the conversation starts. The other four jump in when they can, and you notice how close their dynamic is. It’s bittersweet– your best friend’s new best friends, your four replacements. But you can see why he loves them. If they’d met just a little earlier, you all would’ve been friends.

The conversation is relaxed and easy until a staff member comes into the room and lets it be known that they need to head back to the hotel. You’re ready to say goodbye until soobin speaks, words catching you off guard. “Do you want to come back with us? We have enough space, and I miss you, n/n.”

Your breath catches in your throat. This is exactly what you want, actually, but all you manage is a small nod and a breathy, “yes please.”

You follow the five of them to their tour van, and when they all pair two to a seat, you find yourself comfortable next to Soobin, Kai and Taehyun behind you and Yeonjun and Beomgyu in front. The van pulls away from the venue and Yeonjun’s turning around in his seat to face you.

“So, you and Soobin were friends?” He asks, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes are focused perfectly on you, unwavering, and once again, it makes your heart beat a little faster.

“Yeah, best friends, actually,” you manage, turning to look out the window. “Since we were six.”

Your eyes wander back to Yeonjun when he responds, his own gaze stopping over the low-cut hem of your dress. “Did you ever date?”

Your eyes go wide, and you shoot a small glance at Soobin, who’s glaring at Yeonjun. When he notices you looking, however, he shakes his head slightly. “No.” You say. And that’s the truth– technically.

“Are you dating anyone right now?”

You find that by this point, every single one of them is turned to face you, and you’re remembering that you’re in a car full of men. Of course at least one of them is going to pull something like this. 

But then there’s Soobin, who’s also looking at you, almost eagerly, waiting for your response too. At least you have nothing to let him down with. “Well, no.”

Five pairs of eyes go big in surprise. You hadn’t realized this would be such a shock– it’s just a fact. You shrug. “It’s no big deal.”

“It’s just surprising, is all,” Taehyun adds. “Someone as pretty as you that’s single. Not something you see every day.”

Your cheeks grow hot at his compliment, and once again you turn to look out the window, mumbling a small, flustered, “Thanks,” in response.

The five of them dissolve into chatter for the last few minutes of the drive. You subconsciously slide your hand into Soobin’s, the familiar comfort making you smile to yourself. 

When you get up to their rooms, Soobin leads you to his with zero hesitation. “You can sleep here tonight. I’m assuming, by the looks of you, that you don’t have anything with you, so you can borrow something of mine. I’ll find you something, give me a second.” He digs through the bags on the floor before pulling out a big shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and then hands them to you.

You take them with a smile. It’s almost like old times, sharing his clothes, but it has a faint sadness to it. “I’m gonna… take a shower, is that alright?” You head to the bathroom when he nods. The shower is small, made of clear glass lined with silver metal, and you set the clean clothes on the counter before stripping and tossing your dirty ones on the floor.

The water is cold, crisp, but it heats up gradually until the warmth beckons steam to cover the glass. You wash yourself, hair up in a bun to keep it from getting wet, then step out a few minutes later. Dried off, you pull on his clothes. The sweatpants are more than a little too long, but you bunch them up with a laugh and go back into the room. “Your turn.”

He smiles at you, then shuts the bathroom door behind. You wait on the bed while he’s in there. Thoughts are swarming in your mind at the fact that you know he’s naked in there, of course he is. Is this what he was thinking about you, too?

You’re lost in thought by the time he gets out, but when you look up, your cheeks get warm and your jaw slack. Towel around his waist, dark hair sending rivulets of water down the pretty, smooth skin of his torso… You swallow slightly, then look away. It’d be embarrassing if you let your urges to throw yourself at him win.

“So, how was your shower?” you ask politely, trying your hardest to continue to avert your eyes.

“It was good, n/n. Toss me those sweatpants, hm?” Soobin gestures to the pants beside you, and when you throw them to him, you allow yourself another peek at him. He’s matured a lot in two years, shoulders broader and abs very developed. You want to touch them, and the realization of that has your hands shaking.

Soobin catches the pants, then drops the towel around his waist, and you feel your heart stop. You try to look away, you swear you try, but you can’t. Cheeks burning hot while he situates the sweatpants on his hips. He smirks at you when he notices you watching. “What? It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”

Before you can respond, he joins you in bed, curling his body around you from behind, and your breath catches in your throat. He’s warm, too warm, and you have to deflect. “Why are you so warm? What temperature did you have that damn water on?” You can feel the ridges of his muscles through your shirt, it’s so stupidly thin, and how close he is is overwhelming. He smells just how he used to, you realize, and he moves to hover slightly above you, still behind you for the most part.

“Shh, yn, just look at me, alright?” You do, and his dark eyes are bright when your gaze meets his.

“What?” you whisper, half breathless. Your eyes flicker to his lips briefly, and he notices, oh god, he notices.

He reaches out one hand, cupping your cheek gently, and the corners of his lips turn up into a smile when he notices your rapidly quickening breathing. “It’s alright, can I just…”

He tilts your head towards him just a little more, then leans in, and you’re not even processing when he presses his pretty, heart-shaped lips to yours. Your eyes close, heart pounding, oh, how you’ve missed this.

You pull him down further on you, switching onto your back to get a better angle. Soobin hums in approval against your lips, hands wandering to the hem of the shirt of his you have on, and you move so one can slip up and under the fabric.

His lips leave yours and instead travel down your neck, and you sit up, hands tracing his shoulders, down to his pecs, abs, soft skin feeling so delightful under your fingertips. He sucks a dark, splotchy hickey onto your skin and you gasp, heart jumping to your throat. “Fuck, Soobin…”

His breath shakes out against your skin as he leaves another, and another, tugging up your shirt to reach your tits. Small moans leave trembling lips, and you finally push him away. “My turn, please?”

He laughs, sitting back to give you access, and you leave messy hickeys all down his torso. By the time you’re done, the both of you are covered in spit.

Soobin leans to whisper in your ear with a smile, “Will you lay down for me, yn?”

You slide down so your head is on a pillow, and he hooks his thumbs under the waistband of the sweatpants to pull them down. “Let me taste you, please?” he murmurs, settling between your legs and looking up at you with pleading eyes. He grins like a giddy child when you nod your head in agreement, and he uses his big hands to push your thighs further apart. You’re fully exposed like this, shirt hiked up and over your tits and your sweatpants entirely off, wet pussy exposed. Soobin lets out an elated sigh, hot air on your clit making your legs twitch, and then his tongue meets your clit and you’re entirely gone, floating somewhere above yourself while his lips wrap expertly around your sensitive bud. The soft moans that slip from his mouth make it seem like you’re the best thing that he’s ever tasted.

Your hands grip his hair– you can’t resist it, wet strands between your fingers while he tongues your dripping clit. Your hips buck up into his face when he shakes his head to bury himself  deeper in your cunt, and your orgasm is approaching so fast that you almost feel dizzy. “Can’t– Soob, ah, gonna, fuck, gonna, please, please, please, please, please!”

He only looks up at you, eyes narrowed and teasing, and he backs up entirely. You whine at the loss of contact, trying for any friction between your legs, but he nudges them apart again. “C’mon, n/n, can’t you trust me to make you feel good? I’ve just gotta get something…”

He gets off the bed for a moment, searching for something in one of his bags, and comes back with two slick, light-colored drumsticks. “I‘ve gotta get you all nice and ready for my cock, don’t I?” His tongue traces the wood only once before he allows it to prod your entrance, and the touch makes you gasp.

You hiss through your teeth as the cold wood eases into you. You haven’t fingered yourself or been fucked in years, so the stretch is slightly painful. However, the drumsticks slide easily into you, and with the angle he’s at, Soobin’s got them right against your gspot.

Your breathing quickens and he notices, switching his grip on the sticks with a smirk before slowly, slowly slipping them in and out of you. Your hand tightens on Soobin’s forearm immediately, whole body trembling, but he doesn’t stop, only going faster.

“Soobin–ngh, please, stop, hurts, pl–ah, fuck!” you beg, tears beading on your lashes.

Soobin tsks down at you with a cute bunny smile. “Sluts don’t get to have their way, do they? Whoring around with my friends in that fucking dress, don’t pretend I didn’t notice how Yeonjun was looking at you.” His thumb, calloused from years of playing the drums, presses against your clit and rubs in slow, agonizing circles, and you can’t help a single pathetic whimper. “You should’ve told him when he asked if we’d ever dated, told him how you turn into such a mess for me, it was always so easy to get you all needy, wasn’t it?” You nod quickly, swallowing, eyes wide and teary. “Tell me, yn, I know you haven’t forgotten. Tell me what you are.”

His pace quickens and the drumsticks hit that same spot perfectly again, your head lolling back, eyes closing. One big hand meeting your thigh with a loud slap jolts you out of it, your mouth flying open. “Look at me when I talk,” he instructs, stupid smirk still on his face.

You shake your head, and this time his hand lands on your tit. “I said look at me, or can sluts like you not even follow simple directions? Too fucked dumb on drumsticks to think straight?” You shake your head quickly again, and he smiles. “Go ahead then.”

Soobin slows down for just a second and you open your mouth to talk, yelping when he speeds up again without warning. “I–I, -m a s-slut, I– ‘m sorry daddy, gonna cum, please let me this time, please, ah!”

And once a-fucking-gain, he stops entirely, going so far as to take the drumsticks out to completely ruin your orgasm. A loud whine slips from you, and he can’t help looking down at you with a sadistic, almost predatory smile… it still surprises you that none of the fans can see the wolf side of him. “Sluts don’t get to cum around anything other than dick, do they?”

You shake your head and he stands with a small giggle, tugging off his sweatpants. His dick springs up and hits his stomach almost immediately, tip an angry red, dribbling precum down his shaft. There’d been a wet spot on his sweatpants too.

Your eyes go wide as you look at him, then back up to his face. “It’s not gonna fit…”

He smirks down at you, eyes bright, hair falling across his forehead. “It’s gonna fit, baby, I’ve made it fit before..~” He lowers his lips to your ear. “And even if it doesn’t, you’re gonna take it like a good girl, won’t you?”

You nod quickly, eyes wide, and Soobin chuckles to himself before slowly prodding your entrance with his dick. He sinks in slowly, and you can’t help the strangled gasp that slips from your mouth when he’s hardly even halfway inside you, body lain overtop yours.

A soft groan leaves his own mouth second later when he’s entirely nestled between your thighs, forehead against your neck. He trembles slightly when he starts tentatively rocking his hips back and forth, and labored breaths meet your neck. It almost feels like you’ve gotten tighter– he’s gonna have to compose himself if he wants to give you more than the five minute fuck his body will currently allow him.

He straightens up a moment later, pace quickening, and your mouth drops open in surprise. It’d be an understatement to say it feels good, in fact, it feels a lot better than it used to, and that’s saying something.

Every time he moves forward, his tip kisses your cervix, and you almost want to cry when the movements become more frequent, til he’s practically jackhammering into you. Soobin catches your earlobe in his teeth, then kisses your cheek quickly. “‘ve missed you so much, fuck, missed this cunt s’ much too, forgot how well it fits around me, hugs me just right, hm, n/n?”

You nod quickly in response, a choked sob all you can get out before he’s going even faster, gummy walls taking him in so perfectly. After all, he’s gotta make sure all the members know you’re his after tonight.

And when your moans turn into short little high-pitched screams every time his base meets your dripping cunt, Soobin can’t help but smirk, tongue kissing you before slipping his thumb inside your mouth. “Open, please,” he hums, and when you do, he spits into it. “Swallow.”

You oblige, opening your mouth again once you're done, and he can’t help chuckling. “Look how cute, pretty girl all fucked out, isn’t she?”

“Oh fuck, fuck, feels s’ good daddy, s’ good,” you can barely slur out in response, can barely even think at the pace he’s going at. 

And when he hikes your legs up and over his shoulders to get an even better angle to rearrange your guts, pelvis hitting your ass so hard you’re sure there’ll be bruises tomorrow, a whimpered, “fuck, daddy,” is all you can manage before your walls spasm around his cock. 

Soobin peers down at your shaking form with a smile, not slowing his pace for a second, even when the tears slipping down your face make him want to. “There we go, all pretty for me, creaming around my cock. Told you sluts could cum if they earned it.”

You nod, tears streaking mascara down your face, but he only keeps going, his own breathing ragged in your ear. You whine in protest when he cums inside you without warning, warm liquid making a mess of your thighs when he pulls out afterwards, but he shushes you. “‘s okay, baby, just making sure you won’t leave me again, alright?” 

You can barely comprehend his words but you nod, agreeing, sucking in a sharp breath when his cockhead slips between your thighs once more. “N-no more, can’t–can’t take it, please, Soobinnie…”

Your voice is barely audible, but it makes his cheeks flush slightly. “It’s okay, I swear, let me love you this time, please?”

Your face goes hot, warmer than it already, but you nod again. “Love you s’ much, Soobinnie, d’ you know that?” you mumble, eyes closed in pleasure.

His chest against yours, you can feel his heart pounding as he murmurs a small, “love you too,” in your ear. His pace is slow, long drags of his cock against your walls, and the slow friction causes tears to slip down your face.

Soobin smiles a deep-dimple smile, kissing away one tear that reaches your chin. “Why’re you crying, n/n?” he coos, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips when you don’t respond. His lips are soft and gentle, tentative too, as if he’s not destroying you with his dick currently. He’s kissing you like someone does on a first date, and, in a way, that’s what this is.

He struggles to hold himself up with his arms, especially when you clamp down around him. “Fuck, baby, feel s’ fucking good, can’t believe I waited this long to see you again…”

You smile slightly, pulling him in for another kiss, and the feeling of his lips on yours causes some sort of fuzzy feeling in your stomach. 

“This isn’t– ah – like last time we f-fucked, is it?” you mumble, slowly, eyes closed so you don’t have to watch his expression change. 

His response comes four heartbeats later, and his deep voice is soft and hesitant. “Only if you want it to be… but I know I don’t want it to be like that.” His breath hits your cheek as his arms fail him, finally letting his weight rest on you.

“Don’t want it to be… never wanted it to just be a friends with benefits situation, loved you since highschool, I swear to god,” you gasp out, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes when you squeeze them tight shut once more.

“I’m clueless, aren’t I?” he lets out a breathy laugh, skin shiny with sweat.

“Yeah… you really, fuck, really are.” You can’t help the small smile tugging the corners of your lips when you peek at the look on his face. His cheeks are flushed, ears red like they were the first time you ever pressed an innocent kiss to his cheek. 

A sharp inhale burns your throat when his tip kisses your cervix, brain dizzy. “Soobin, Soobin, gon’ –”

He holds you closer when you cling tight to him. “Let go for me, won’t you, n/n? Soobinnie’s got you.”

The words, so simple that you’re sure he didn’t think twice about letting them fall from his lips, tips you off the edge of your orgasm’s cliff, and you’re shaking, hips bucking up towards him. The action forces him further into you, and he presses a palm to your stomach. Soobin hisses through his teeth when he feels the bulge of his own length beneath your skin. 

He pulls away after a moment, letting the white of his second high paint your thighs. The exposure of your clit to the cold air has you pressing your thighs together, eyebrows furrowed upwards in what Soobin takes to be a perpetually-fucked expression. 

His cum is sticky between your thighs, but you don’t move to get cleaned up, reveling in the moment and the fact that, once again, you’re in bed with him. It seems that this is where you belong.

His heart-shaped lips part as if to say something, but two sharp raps on the door startles him from the post-sex stupor. Soobin scrambles to cover you with the blanket, entirely forgetting about himself until the door opens a crack.

“Are you done yet? Yeonjun wants to go to a corner store and we’ve been waiting all night.” Taehyun’s eyes are averted from your ruined form, and you focus only on Soobin’s pink ears. For all his want to have the others hear the two of you, he didn’t know exactly how to react once he knew they had.

“I– yeah, give us 10?” His eyes flick your way and he amends his statement. “Maybe 20, actually.”

Taehyun only rolls his eyes slightly, and when he’s done, his gaze rests on the exposed skin of your chest. However, you could be making this up, because as soon as you think you witness his eyes widening slightly, he’s closing the door behind him.

Soobin wipes his cum from your thighs with his soiled sweatpants before tossing them onto the floor and rifling through his suitcase for more clothes. The pair of you step out of the room in almost matching outfits of sweatpants and sweatshirts, and four sets of eyes rake up and down your form. 

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Soobin, but he only places his hand on the dip of your waist to pull you out the door.

He does notice, however, when the small comments begin to start. Beomgyu commenting on the way the sweats pull tight at your thighs, Yeonjun saying something about the swell of your breasts under Soobin’s sweatshirt, and even Kai makes a small note of how pretty your eyes look when you’re gazing up at him.

It gets to the point that you’re unsure just how much more Soobin’s going to allow before he snaps. He’s always been the jealous type– years ago, he wouldn’t even allow a man to lay eyes on you, let alone have a hand on your thigh like Taehyun’s is right now.

You’re locked in conversation with Yeonjun when you realize Beomgyu’s whispering in Soobin’s ear. Something about the younger’s expression is almost pleading, and you’re unsurprised when Soobin gives in to whatever his request is. 

All five of them stand at once– you stand half a beat too late, a little put off by their synchronicity. But Soobin loops his arms around your waist from the back, chin atop your head, and the sweetness of his breath is almost as surprising as the words that fall from his lips. “Gonna have to share you tonight, hm? The boys want a turn…”

[napofawhalien]

[napofawhalien]

🥺🥹💗

when he comes home

-

After a long, grueling day of delayed flights and relentless rain when they finally land in Seoul, Soobin drags himself through the front door of your shared apartment. His body feels like lead, his hair damp from the rain, and all he wants is to collapse into the familiar comfort of home. The apartment is quiet, dark except for the faint glow of a nightlight in the hallway. He quickly throws off his shoes, his heart heavy with exhaustion and the lingering loneliness that comes with weeks away on tour. As he steps into the bedroom, the sight of you curled up in bed, breathing softly in your sleep, sends a wave of emotion crashing over him. His chest tightens, his eyes burning with unshed tears. I’m home. The thought repeats in his head, grounding him in the moment. He moves quietly, changing into his comfiest pajamas and brushing his teeth on autopilot. When he finally climbs into bed, the mattress dips under his weight. He exhales shakily, the familiar scent of home and the warmth of your presence pulling him back to reality.

You stir slightly, blinking sleepily as you turn toward him. “Soobin?” you mumble, your voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he whispers, his voice soft and hoarse. “I’m home.”

You reach out, your hand finding his arm, and you smile faintly. “Missed you,” you say, your words slurred. “How was the tour?”

Soobin shakes his head, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “We’ll talk in the morning,” he murmurs. “Go back to sleep.”

You nod, already halfway there, too tired to argue. You scoot closer, tucking your head against his chest, and he wraps his arms around you tightly, as if anchoring himself to you.

As the rain continues to patter softly against the windows, Soobin presses a kiss to the top of your head, his heart swelling with gratitude and love. He closes his eyes, the tension in his body finally melting away as the steady rhythm of your breathing lulls him to sleep. For the first time in weeks, Soobin feels truly at peace, wrapped in the warmth of home and the person he loves most.

[napofawhalien]

kai having to turn hmmnyaring around while you both break the bed is a thought i’ve been giggling over ><

“BABE OUR SON YOU FORGOT TO THRN HIM AROUND”

“OH SHIT HOLD ON”

STOP HAHAHAHAHA

he'd be like... balls deep in a ridiculously intense moment then he just makes eye contact with the damn plushie across the room and he's frantically jumping up to turn him around 😭

you're like ??? wtf are u okay what are u doing

and he's there butt ass naked, turning his little plushies around and pouting like a loser before he's waddling back over to fuck you again

FUCK I LOVE HIM SO BAD I'M GIGGLING HE'S SO DUMB

[napofawhalien]

CRAVE。⧼ PROLOGUE ⧽ ─── 투모로우바이투게더

stay away from the woods。

★ pairing。txt ot5 x fem!reader‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎g。⧼ 📖 ⧽ fantasy , romance , comedy , angst , eventual smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎cw。descriptions of personal injury and blood ・animal attacks ・mentions of illness and death ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎wc。2. 1 k | to library。

★ includes。。。heeseung from enhypen

notes from lia。finally!! happy thanksgiving everyone, i'm thankful for every single one of my amazing readers!! i hope you enjoy the prologue to my very much anticipated crave series!! look out for the first chapter in the beginning of december!!

all your life, you had been told to never step foot into the woods. that there were monsters lurking just below its dark canopy, hiding just out of sight and patiently waiting to strike. and yet the whistling of the pines has never been this entrancing. the trees taunt you from your safe little cabin, their outstretched branches waving and creaking in the wind as if they were beckoning you closer and closer.

you can see them just as perfectly from the bakery as you can from your bedroom window. they feel inescapable.

the shrill, tinny ringing of a bell snaps your attention away from the open window, your thoughts having consumed you as you laid out fresh loaves of bread to cool in the frosty air. you brush your floury hands off on your apron and turn to welcome your customer, your polite smile growing into a warm grin when you recognize the lanky boy standing by your workbench.

“that’s an awful lot to be doing all on your own.” he comments with a sideways smile, running his fingers through his auburn hair.

“i open the shop by myself every morning, hee.” you reply pointedly, rising to your tip toes to give him a quick hug before brushing past him towards the towering stone oven. “you know mother can’t work this early anymore.”

“couldn’t you ask one of your siblings to help?”

“they’re too young to use the oven or mill the wheat, they’d be no help at all. it’s not even that much work, really, just baking and cleaning. i don’t want to burden them with all of this on top of everything else.”

nothing has been the same since your father fell ill. the bakery was his and your mother’s, a humble way to support their family and their quaint little village for decades. you were never particularly wealthy, but you had enough to get by. consumption, the village doctor had called it. it was a truly fitting word for the disease that slowly consumed your poor, frail father whole. nothing was left, not even the bones. a mere shadow laid in bed all day, a ghost whose coughs have began to sound like rattling chains. none of the medicines the doctor prescribed ever worked, they only seemed to be making him sicker. he said that there was a hospital in the royal city, but your village was days away by carriage, and you and your mother had nowhere near the means to fund the trip. part of you were certain he wouldn’t survive the journey either way.

your mother now spends her days caring for him, an apothecary’s daughter clinging on to the last shreds of hope that her remedies will ward off the hands of death. you desperately wish you could feel the same, but you’ve already begun grieving… until recently.”

“mother said she’d stop by to help this afternoon.” you assert, leaving no more room for discussion. you can feel his eyes on your back, watching you as you stoke the firewood and slide trays of dough into the oven. “you worry about me too much! i’m not a little girl anymore.”

“i worried about you then and i’ll worry about you now.” heeseung chuckles endearingly, erupting a swarm of butterflies in your belly. “you’ve always been a little too brave.”

his words remind you of your mulling thoughts, pulling your gaze back to the window. “heeseung, have you ever known someone who went into the woods?”

heeseung is quiet for a worryingly long time. “the blackwoods? not anyone who made it back… why?”

your mind is screaming at you to keep your mouth shut, but you just can’t keep it all bottled up inside anymore. you’ve never hidden a single thing from your best friend, except this. “i was reading my mothers books the other day.” you admit softly, unable to look him in the eye. “in one of them it said there is a plant that grows in the blackwoods, a type of flower. it can cure any illness, save people from the brink of death…”

“y/n.” heeseung warns, his face dropping. “you’re not seriously considering going in there, are you?”

you hesitate for a second too long— he cuts you off with a scoff, stepping forward to grip your shoulders with his rough carpenter’s hands. “there’s no way that flower is even real, y/n. don’t be childish. just some fairytale out of one of your mother’s quack medicine books.”

“it was my grandfather’s.” you defend softly, finally looking up into heeseung’s eyes— the coldness you find in them frighten you.

“he was a quack too.” heeseung retorts, releasing your shoulders to turn and swiftly slam the bakery window shut. your loaves shake from the force. “there’s no magical flower that is going to save your father, especially not in the blackwoods. i love you, y/n, seriously, but you can’t keep believing in fairytales— and you wonder why i worry about you so much! promise me, you won’t go in those woods. please. one step inside and you’ll never come out. i can’t afford to lose you— your family can’t afford to lose you.”

“okay.” you relent, just loud enough for heeseung to hear. “you’re right, i was being ignorant. i won’t go into the woods.”

“say you promise.”

“i… i promise…”

standing at the edge of the forest, your cold clammy fingers wrapped tightly around the strap of your satchel, you’re caught frozen in place. you just can’t seem to get your feet to step forward, your psyche screaming at you to turn back and run home. heeseung’s words circle your thoughts, so all-consuming that you swear you can hear them in the howling wind— you haven’t told a lie since you were very young, and never to heeseung of all people. the guilt nags at you to the point of nausea.

but you had made up your mind long before you had spoken to heeseung earlier that morning. he’s a simple woodworker, he doesn’t understand a single thing about the healing magic that hides in nature… but your grandfather did. he wrote those books himself, a man who would risk his life in the pursuit of knowledge, just to help others. you wanted nothing more than to continue his legacy, save your father and prove to your close-minded little village that he was anything but the insane, rambling idiot that they all viewed him as. before and after his death. you’ve been preparing for weeks, reading as much as you can about the dangers of the blackwoods, packing whatever you possibly could think of to help you on the journey. you might have overpacked, to be honest, your weathered leather satchel hanging heavy on your shoulder. if everything went as you planned, you would be back home before anyone would notice that you were gone.

your breath fogs in front of your face, reminding you of the hearth smoke billowing from your cabin’s chimney. you can still see it, just beyond the hill, its straw hatch roof just visible over the tall grass waving in the wind. you could turn back now, put all your things away and fall asleep in the safety of your bedroom. you could forget about all of this and wake up tomorrow morning as if you had never planned anything at all.

you will yourself to move your feet, frozen in your boots like the frost on the leaves, and you enter the ominous pitch-black dark of the blackwoods.

the tree canopy is so thick that the moonlight barely breaches it, everything swathed in darkness as you walk farther and farther away from home. the flickering candle in your lantern does little to illuminate much except what was right in front of you. you focus on what you can see, the dead fallen leaves and frosty underbrush that crunch loudly underneath your feet as you venture deeper. it’s deafening in your ears, the forest eerily silent all around you, not even the distant call of an owl, the scattering of a chipmunk— you’re certain that any creatures hiding in the trees or in the brush knew of your presence.

including the monsters.

in none of the books you read would they ever describe them more than just that; monsters that use the night as camouflage, that kill livestock in their pens and steal children from their beds. any intruder in their own territory will certainly be made short work out of. you’ve always believed that they were nothing but scary stories to keep children well behaved, a tall tale your mother would use to get you to come inside for bed.

distantly, cutting sharply through the silence, you hear the howling of a wolf. it sounded a safe distance away, yet it still sent you jumping. the sudden movement causes your lantern to extinguish, plummeting you into complete and total darkness. your heart dropping, you curse, placing it on the forest floor against a mossy tree before opening the flap of your satchel and rummaging blindly through the contents for your matchbox. you try to steady your breathing, heart rattling against your ribcage, matchbox just beyond your grasp as you struggle in the dark.

you hear the rustling of leaves just to your right. desperately, you tell yourself that you’re just hearing things.

finally, you wrap your fingers around the familiar shape of your matchbox, pulling it out to fumble with its contents before you pick back up your lantern. with a strike of the match against the rough bark of the tree, you’re illuminated once again, carefully lighting the candle before putting out the match with a shake of your hand. triumphantly, you turn to continue to venture farther into the woods, before stopping cold. your breath knocks out of you all at once, leaving you gasping in the cold air.

farther up on the oak tree, carved crudely into the bark, are three sharp claw marks you’re almost certain weren’t there before.

but they had to have been, because there was simply no way that something could have snuck up so close to you without you noticing. these woods were driving you mad, you feared, still trying to steady your breathing as you turn and step forward.

as you continue deeper into the forest, you swear you hear another pair of footsteps following your own. you stop abruptly to catch them, but you hear nothing— another thing you must be imagining… yet you set onward a little faster than before.

maybe it was that wolf you had heard, you entertained as you examine the dark twisted trees. it sounded rather far away, but you couldn’t be one to discount the creature’s speed. maybe it was just watching you to make sure you weren’t a threat, and it would leave you shortly…

a growl, deep and barely audible, rumbles from between the bushes. you break out into a wild sprint, gasping and panting, running deep into the unknown. the creature chases you with frightening speed, no longer trying to hide its footsteps as it weaves through the forest floor. you had no idea where you were or where you were going, but this beast… this was his home. the hunt was on.

low hanging branches scratch and tear at your skin and clothing as you run, blood running down your face, legs and arms— you couldn’t feel the pain, the adrenaline numbing everything except for the terror in your heart. now you were just easier to track, you agonized, but you couldn’t do anything but keep running, dropping your satchel and lantern to lighten your load as much as you could. alas, you barely ran any faster… you were starting to slow down, exhaustion was starting to creep up on you, your chest aching and desperate for breath, your legs screaming in pain as you stumble and stagger through the labyrinth of trees. you couldn’t see a single thing in front of you, completely lost in the darkness, your arms outstretched to feel around as you ran.

the creature was advancing, it’s footsteps thunderous right behind you, its snarls and growls growing closer and closer. in a desperate attempt to escape, you sharply turn to the right to run in a different direction.

just as you move to step forward, your boot wedges itself underneath an exposed tree root, and you are sent tumbling to the mossy ground. you try to break your fall with your hands, but you react far too late— you slam your head against a jagged rock, blinding white light flashing behind your eyelids before your world goes black.

the last thing you feel is pain, and the last thing you see are two bright, bloody red eyes staring at you through the darkness.

[napofawhalien]

jjuni in 2024 for @hwanwooyoung 🤍

[napofawhalien]

Soobin, who lives for when it’s time to go to bed. Simply falling into each other’s arms and holding each other close. Listening to both your hearts beat while your arms and legs are tangled together. The soft conversations about your day, random thoughts, and plans for the future. Your future together.

Yeonjun, who randomly texts you that he is on his way to your place and takes you on a spontaneous date. Even though it’s random and spontaneous, it’s still somehow thoughtful and romantic. You mentioned once in passing recently that you were craving gelato? Looks like you’re going on a last minute gelato date that ends with a walk in the park hand in hand.

Beomgyu, who gets offended when you try to say you love him more. The “I love you” “no, I love you more” battles were common among the two of you, but that never stopped Beomgyu from getting competitive when you would try to one up him. You love him more? Well he loves you more than Soobin loves KARA (and that’s a lot) and so it keeps going until you give up and let him take the win.

Taehyun, who stares at you when cooking together. He thinks of the future and how domestic it feels to do something a simple as cooking with you. As he stares at you while you prep the vegetables, he can’t help but think about how he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

Kai, who melts when you play with his hair. On the evenings where the two of you are relaxing, his head on your lap, and your fingers running through his hair; He swears he will die a happy man on nights like those. Sitting there while you talk or the two of you are watching a show, his eyes closed as he just lets you do as you please with his hair.

[napofawhalien]

YOU WERE THAT ANOBN>:>>>>>??>????

Slippery dip anon feels so long ago, but it was only a year?! A whole other era of moablr.. Ah, I should have used it more and yet it's nostalgic to me somehow 😅 Even longer ago since you were banggyu0308!

I chose 🛝 because I thought it was funny that it could be slippery dip anon for me and slide anon for other countries lol