#this is another of the posts that serve no purpose besides me wanting to cry about my favs. bear with me. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years

Text

not allowed iv, m | jjk, myg

pairing(s): est. poly relationship – jungkook x reader x yoongi

summary: Your boyfriends woke up and chose violence. Excuse me, Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi? Do you really think you can post one after another on Twitter, send the world into heart palpitations, and not expect your girlfriend to do something about it? Hmm?!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of the pandemic; reader and Yoongi have giant heart eyes whenever they see each other; feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, nipple play, f and m-receiving oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, m-masturbation, double penetration/spit roasting); idol!BTS

that’s right JK posted his blue hair and i absolutely lost it part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: your boyfriend asked JJK to fuck you, then again, and then they decided to make this a thing; based on real time.

Your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.

Everything was fine. You were on your lunch break, sitting in your kitchen, knowing you would have to get back to work soon. A quick meal and scrub of the dishes left you with you a few minutes to check your phone. You didn’t get many messages throughout the day and you preferred it that way. You took a moment to scroll through social media.

Only to choke a little seeing Jeon Jungkook, the Golden Maknae of BTS, reveal his dark blue locks to the world in the middle of the damn day. Did you almost drop your phone? Yes. Did you not because it was the special edition BTS S20+? Also, yes. The TinyTan SUGA phone case would have protected it anyway, but… still.

You placed your phone aside and went back to your computer, ready to attend work again.

Not quite composed, but it was just a picture, just a picture, just a picture…

Except you knew what Jungkook looked like naked and that wasn’t helping.

Three hours later, you snuck a glance at your phone only to be attacked by the cutest human being in the world, Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, sometimes Agust D, all the time lil meow meow because, holy shit, why the fuck was this man so cute? Those damn cheeks. Those eyes. Fuck, you loved his eye shape. And his pretty lips. Damnnit, why couldn’t you kiss him right now?

They’re trying to kill you and ARMY all at once.

You’re convinced.

You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath.

It is only a coincidence. It doesn’t involve you. They’re only being their usual adorable, attractive selves and giving a gift to the fans. You weren’t delusional. It was their job to do things like this. You knew this and you were used to it. You’ve seen Yoongi say all kinds of things in V-LIVEs and you always thought it was funny. Lately, he hadn’t been responding to them much though. As for Jungkook, well.

Everyone in the world wanted Jungkook, including you, so could you blame the world? No.

Jungkook tried to tell you before that he was shy and you recalled all those see-through shirts he’d worn on stage. All those ab reveals. Hmm, you weren’t fooled.

“I wanted to make sure you were looking at me, noona,” Jungkook had teased you, hooking his arms around your waist. “I had to get your attention somehow.”

Yeah, yeah, your attention and millions of other people.

It made you laugh, until he became your boyfriend, and now it made you choke on air like every other human being who saw him looking that good. Before you had the safety of giving your full attention to Yoongi. Yoongi had always been your priority and you wanted to make sure he felt that way.

Little by little.

Jungkook grew up.

And became harder and harder to ignore.

Even more difficult when Yoongi gave him the apartment key and told him to fuck you in his stead.

You heard your phone ping. You checked your messages, saving your work in the process.

That will teach you to post such sexy pictures.

You twitched. Excuse me? What was Jungkook talking about? Your personal, private Instagram was for expressing your – sometimes eccentric – fashion sense. Was he referring to the images you posted for Valentine’s Day, the ones with the white vinyl coat, red stockings, and sky-high red heels? Hmph. You couldn’t even see your face in those. Actually, you deliberately cut off most of your face in all of your pictures. The most you showed were your lips, always painted to match your outfit. You didn’t want anyone to recognize you, even by happenstance.

Made taking pictures much easier, since you never had to do eye makeup or worry about accidentally making ugly faces.

It was private now, but it wasn’t before, and the only reason you privated it was because you started dating Yoongi. You still wanted it use it as an outlet though, so you left it as is, with your follower count unchanging. It wasn’t that many people to begin with and you were pretty sure a lot of the accounts were bots.

In any case, sometimes you felt like being creative and dressing up, thus you did so on Instagram. You couldn’t dress like that when you went to visit Yoongi. Ah, and now Jungkook too. To be honest, you loved fashion and trying on different looks, but it wasn’t possible unless you were alone. And you were alone a lot, with no one but strangers to appreciate (or be confused by) it.

Might as well take a picture, right?

And if you could tease Yoongi a little, at least from a distance, that was even better.

You forgot Jungkook also followed you now though.

Dammit.

Had the photos been sexy? Sure. Provocative, lots of leg, almost a peek of ass but not quite. Red lips to stand out against the white. If the coat was black, it would have been more traditionally fetishist, but that's why you had picked shiny white vinyl. Brighter for the cute holiday.

Who are you kidding? You wore it to provoke Yoongi.

He texted you after you posted it. Usually, he said things along the lines of, pretty, cute, you look crazy, I like it. Only sometimes did he say...

what the fuck

You had asked him if he liked your post today.

I'm not trying to pop a boner in the middle of practice, control yourself woman.

Maybe don't post such cute selfies then, you had thought. Then your phone pinged again.

Send a picture with the coat open. Jungkook wants to see.

Oh, so now that the maknae was involved, he was going to pin things on the younger one. Two can play at this game. You sent the photo to Jungkook first. You knew that if the situation was reversed, Yoongi would have done the same. Jungkook's reaction had been hilarious.

Noona?! WHAT???

And then a slew of head exploding emojis.

Yoongi had been agitated until you finally sent him the picture too. It had been a fun incident.

Until your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.

Dammit.

You stared at blue-haired Jungkook and 'Blue and Grey' Yoongi from the MTV Unplugged performance.

This just wasn’t allowed.

This visit had a purpose, but then you saw Min Yoongi standing in the hallway waiting for you, wearing an olive-green shirt, hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants, small smile on his lips. Purring your name lovingly after you closed the door, and you realized you missed him so very much, his lovely dark brown eyes and dark hair, and then you were suddenly in his arms and he was hugging you.

With both arms.

Yoongi was recovering well and he still couldn't do strenuous activity yet, but he was hugging you with both arms and you wanted to cry because it was so nice to have them both around you. You could've been cool and collected, yet somehow both you and Yoongi had the same idea to first hug and breathe in each other, his fresh, woodsy scent strongly invading your nose and his soft cheek against yours.

"You smell different."

"Do you like it?" you mumbled into his neck, kissing it lightly.

"Mhm."

You thought it had worn off by now, but the new perfume you had purchased lingered far longer than you imagined, clinging to your hair. Warm spiced sweetness with a hint of sharp smoke. Yoongi inhaled deeply beside you.

"You should wear more perfume," he murmured, hands kneading your waist.

"Someone might notice."

"Nah, your taste similar enough to mine."

He was taking off your coat and you were stepping out of your shoes, being pulled deeper into the apartment, and now his kisses were yours, soft and light, every one saying, I missed you, I want you, I love you. There no need for words when it was Min Yoongi. Fingers tapping down your waist, pulling your oversized black shirt up and over your head.

"Excuse me?"

You pooped your head out to see Yoongi staring at your chest, jaw dropped and eyes wide. Oh, right. You had been so occupied with hugs and kisses that you almost forgot. Your shirt fluttered to the floor, forgotten.

You smirked.

"Surprise."

Yoongi made a face at you. Somewhere between angry, aroused, and shock. Good. Serves you right for posting such a cute selfie.

The front door opened.

Both of you instantly moved, you sliding behind him and into the bedroom, Yoongi standing in front of you, masking your frame. The discarded shirt and jacket could be explained away – that's why you wore oversized men's clothes, usually in Yoongi's preferred color palette.

"Hyung?"

Oh, whew. Actually, wait. No, this was danger.

"Ah, Jungkookie."

Yoongi placed his hand on your arm and you popped your head over the corner once you heard the door close. Yup. A swift shake of dark blue locks, white sweatshirt and loose black sweatpants, and that mischievous smirk with a wrinkle of his nose.

Danger.

"Hey, noona!"

Damnnit, planning for two is hard! You couldn't just go put your shirt on and do the grand reveal again. Yoongi grasped your upper arm with his right hand and yanked you from the doorframe. You squeaked, body stumbling into Jungkook’s view.

"Did you plan this?" Yoongi asked with a cocked brow.

Jungkook's eyes went wide.

"Uh... no, but I like where this is going," Jungkook replied, smirk growing.

The black lace bra stood out against your skin, strappy and elegant, molding to the swells of your breasts and the curve downward to your waist, matching the garter belt that disappeared into the black jeans you were wearing. You didn't usually wear lingerie. It wasn't practical and if you accidentally left something behind... it wasn't worth the risk. Yoongi and you took every precaution to not fuck this up.

Therefore, you only wore lingerie on your private Instagram.

Only showing little flashes, never the whole picture. And, really, you wore it in your photos to mess with them. It made you feel nice too, so it was a win-win. This set was familiar to Yoongi and Jungkook because you had worn the red version in the original Valentine’s Day themed photos.

Again, you didn't usually wear lingerie, but Jungkook and Yoongi couldn't just post pictures on Twitter back-to-back, two-shot you, and not expect a damn reaction. That kind of shit wasn't tolerated! On top of all that, you had to wait and get properly tested before getting here. This pandemic extended your frustrations. So, yes, fuck it, you wore the damn lingerie that made you feel the sexiest. Even if your jeans were still on, you knew you looked good.

No one had to tell you. You checked in the mirror before you left.

"Is this your response to my text a couple days ago?" Jungkook teased, kicking off his shoes and bounding over to you two. His dark blue hair shimmered in the light, like a night sky covered with stars, smile pure and naughty at the same time, lighting up his whole face.

Fuck you for being hot, Jeon Jungkook!

You leaned back against Yoongi, crossing your arms under your breasts, pressing them together. Jungkook grinned, the mole underneath his lower lip winking at you.

"Something like that," you coolly replied. Shit, there was an edge to your voice. Hopefully neither Yoongi or Jungkook picked that up.

"Hmm..."

Jungkook pursed his lips, the tip of his pink tongue sticking out the side. Ack. You had to look away. You turned and bumped your lace-covered tits against Yoongi's chest. His dark brown orbs flickered to your breasts, sly smile on his lips.

"This is your fault too, by the way."

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, amused. "What do you mean?"

You dropped your hands, surveying him suspiciously. "You think I don't know? Posting right after Jungkook? That's not allowed! You know what that does to me."

Yoongi leaned forward. Your breath caught in your throat, heart beating fast all of a sudden. You backed up, right into Jungkook's chest. Uh oh. Yoongi hummed, black hair shadowing his face, devious sparkle in those dangerous eyes, his voice a raspy, purring drawl.

"What does it do to you?"

Your hand fell back to brace yourself and Jungkook's fingers wrapped around your wrist, stroking your skin. You felt him shift behind you and then his lips were on your ear, whispering in his silvery voice.

"Yeah, noona. Tell us.” His grip on your wrist tightened, squeezing lightly, asserting his presence behind you. “Or you can show us."

...

!!!

How dare they tag team you? First, they visually attack you – and millions of other ARMY – in the middle of the workday, and now this, Yoongi closing in, kissing you once more, deeper, hungrier, with dark intent, smirking against your lips as Jungkook took both your hands, ghosting his long fingers over yours. You whimpered into Yoongi's mouth, body tensing, Jungkook pressing himself into your back, breath against your hair.

"You smell different," he murmured.

You couldn't reply. Yoongi was sucking on your tongue, making you whine.

"Warm, sweet, and spicy."

Yoongi released you and you gasped for air, bucking into Jungkook's crotch. "I bought it last week... thought it smelled nice..."

Jungkook nuzzled your hair. "I like it. Makes me horny."

You laughed a little, turning your hands around in his to lace your fingers together. He held your hands firmly, grinding his crotch into your ass. You could already feel his arousal through your jeans.

"Sounds dangerous," you mused.

"It is," Yoongi chuckled. "But you should keep wearing it anyway. You smell good."

Heat rose to your cheeks. Then you realized your jeans were already undone, being daintily pushed down by deft hands and an amused expression, Yoongi crouching to pull them along. Bit by bit, revealing the matching garter belt, the high-cut black lace panties that framed your thighs, and lace-topped sheer stockings, all the straps emphasizing your softness, sinking into your thighs and ass.

"Fuck..." Yoongi breathed, running his fingertips over the delicate fabric, touch so light against your skin, dancing up your knee. "You're so fucking beautiful."

He looked up at you, eyes so dark they seemed black, playful smirk on those perfect pink lips. Thump. You felt Jungkook pull your arms back and press them to his sides. You grabbed fistfuls of Jungkook’s shirt, staring down at Yoongi advancing between your legs, his smirk growing wider and more teasing, lovely voice low and husky, deep with arousal.

"What's the matter?" Yoongi purred. "Cat got your tongue?"

Your body tensed in anticipation, Jungkook's hands crawling around your sides, one tattooed, one not, fingers hovering over your now trembling chest. Looking down at Yoongi's smug expression, tongue flicking out and teasing you. Reminding you how good he was and how long you'd been waiting.

Fuck you for being hot, Min Yoongi!

"Don't overexert yourself..." you breathed.

A sculpted brow lifted.

"I have help now," he reminded you and Jungkook's hands sank into your barely-covered breasts.

"Fuck..." Jungkook hissed into your ear, running his palms over your nipples, listening to your gasps as Yoongi dived between your thighs, hot tongue sliding against the lace. "Missed these tits so fucking much." His lips on your ear, growling your name, that dominant edge to his silvery voice, tweaking the hardened nubs while Yoongi teased your clothed clit with his tongue, the lace hardly a barrier but still an effective one, the rough threads plucking against your sensitive nerves.

How long had it been? So long, almost forever since Yoongi’s tongue was on you, soft and fast and the perfect pressure, deliberately teasing you and not moving the fabric aside, so close yet so far. If it wasn’t Yoongi, maybe you could tell him to move it, maybe you could beg, but you couldn’t speak because of Yoongi’s tongue and Jungkook’s rough touch, his hands on your breasts, pushing them together, your nipples poking tiny tents in the black lace, running his fingertips over them over and over, his hips grinding into your ass. Yoongi cupped one of your ass cheeks and spread them, your panties bunching in the center, Jungkook’s hardness slipping in, still covered by his sweatpants.

Wetter, hotter, sanity slipping little by little.

“Y-Yoongi… J-Jungkook…”

You tried not to shove your hips in Yoongi’s face, not wanting to strain his neck, and ended up pushing back instead, bouncing against Jungkook’s cock. The younger man snickered, nipping at your ear, pinching your nipples, and you felt a slick squelch as Yoongi’s tongue pushed the lace into your dripping pussy. The moans dragged out of your throat, eyelids fluttering, letting them do whatever they wanted, pleasure flooding all your senses, watching Yoongi wreck you, clutching Jungkook’s sweatshirt, panting their names, leaking more and more, the scent of your juices getting stronger and sweeter.

“This isn’t fair…” you panted. “I’m going c-crazy…”

Yoongi hummed on your clit and you cried out, hips rocking, so good, head tipping onto Jungkook’s broad shoulder, his long blue hair brushing against your cheek and eyelashes.

“Good, because you make us crazy,” Jungkook muttered, pushing your breasts together and squeezing them roughly. His voice was so deep you could feel your back vibrate with his words. His other hand came up and gripped your chin, trailing down and fitting around your neck, the loose sleeve falling and revealing his forearm tattoos, contrasting your lace-covered skin. “Always looking so fucking pretty and making me want to fuck you…”

His index finger came up and pressed against your lower lip. Those chocolatey eyes were watching your face from his peripheral vision, smirking as he witnessed your expression.

“Even showing off these sexy, fuckable lips. That’s not fair either, noona.”

“T-That’s not…”

Jungkook’s hand at your throat dropped and you yelped, his large palm fitting around your right thigh and lifting it up, fingers sinking in. Stockings, lace, garter, Jungkook’s touch, holding your leg up and out, giving Yoongi a perfect view of your glistening core. Then there was more, too much more, Yoongi pushing aside your panties, soaked fabric snapping against the inside of your thigh and then his mouth was directly on you, oh, fuck, his tongue on your throbbing clit, lips wrapped around it, pure suffocating ecstasy, your slick juices dripping down his chin, so easy, it was just too easy for Yoongi to make you feel so fucking good and he looked so sexy doing it too, those cat-like eyes piercing into you, ordering you to cum for him, to spill all over his beautiful face.

“Yoongi… fuck, your tongue is so fucking good–”

Your body rippled with pleasure and you flung your head to the side, away from Jungkook’s ear to moan far too loud, filling up the entire hallway, wanton and lewd, absolutely pornographic and sinful in nature, orgasm gushing into Yoongi’s waiting mouth, shuddering against Jungkook’s hard body. So many sensations, too many sensations. Yoongi sank his nails into your ass, growling as he sucked out your cum and drank it, Jungkook grinding his stiff length in between your ass cheeks, spreading your leg so far that your left one was quivering with strain, tits squashed in Jungkook’s left hand, his warm tongue on your ear, whispering darkly. Dirty, sensual, and your pussy couldn’t stop throbbing, Min Yoongi’s mouth and Jeon Jungkook’s low octave driving you insane.

“You look so fucking good, noona. Your body is so fucking perfect, so sexy wrapped up in lace,” he exhaled, sliding his palm over your nipples roughly, earning more depraved moans. He lowered your leg, slowly, Yoongi lapping at your clit, sending shocks of pleasure up your torso as he cleaned you off. Jungkook’s hand slid down over your stomach, flicking the straps against your skin, small snaps of pain that made you gasp, trapped in Jungkook’s power, letting him take over you. He took a step back, forcing you to arch your spine and look up at him, a curtain of cobalt surrounding that handsome face and those intense brown eyes.

No one could make you feel the way Yoongi made you feel. No one.

So...

Why did staring up at Jungkook like this do things to you? Why did it put your heart on a string and tension in your throat? Get it together. You weren't a teenager. Ask for what you want. He was just so insanely attractive in every way.

Jungkook smirked and you wanted him to ruin you.

He lifted you up easily. You saw Yoongi standing up and wiping his chin, self-satisfied and amused. He tilted his head and plucked one of the straps on your stomach, a light, erotic sting. Yoongi made eye contact with you, locking you in his gaze. A single look, and your heart was fluttering, immediately smitten. One by one, fingers wrapping around a few of the straps and pulling you to him, backing up, leading you to the bed by own your lingerie.

"Why today?" Yoongi drawled, tracing the curve of the bra cup, sending shivers over your skin. "Feeling risky?"

You raised a brow, focusing on him, trapped in those cat-like eyes.

"Control yourself. Aren't you used to this body by now?"

Yoongi grinned devilishly, darting closer, leaving you breathless in his speed. The scent of his cologne and your orgasm lingered on his skin, a delicious combination.

"Never."

Kissing you, taking your startled inhale, and you could taste yourself, fuck, just something about his skilled lips and your taste had your fingers twisting into Yoongi's shirt, rolling your body into his, still being so careful, but it was so hard because he was making it so hard, teasing you with that deft tongue, bursts of pleasure with every heartbeat you had while captured in Yoongi's lips. You missed it, this intensity, the overwhelming feeling that Yoongi gave you, being able to give in to the want, but you still couldn't give in without abandon, but you were so close.

So close.

Ruin me.

He pushed you lightly and you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, the kiss suddenly broken, but the second touch was familiar now, one tattooed arm, one not, and you knew that if you fell, these arms could catch you.

Jungkook put you in his lap, your back touching his bare chest. Oh, shit. Before you could think much about it, he turned you so you were laying in his arms princess-style. He must have removed his sweatshirt while you were talking to Yoongi, but he still wearing his pants, now sitting in the side of the bed, blue hair messy from your hands and the removal of his clothes. Your arms hooked around his neck instinctively, not wanting to fall, but he had his right hand splayed across your shoulder blades, holding you up securely.

"Mmm, this is nice," Jungkook murmured, playfully smiling. He nuzzled your nose, tongue flicking over your lips. "Why did you make us wait so long, hm?"

You frowned, breath against his chin. "The number of cases got higher... and you all were so busy... I couldn't get tested until recently."

Jungkook made a disgruntled noise.

"Hey, public health and safety is important."

He pouted at you. "But..."

"He's horny and wants to fuck," Yoongi cut in.

"Hyung…!"

Yoongi pulled up his chair and sat down, looking amused.

"He's been jacking off to your pictures."

"N-no, I haven't!"

"Really? I have."

Yoongi's face was completely neutral. It was hard to tell if he was lying or not.

Jungkook tried to hide his flushed face with your hair. "... M-Maybe I h-have..."

"Tsk, tsk, naughty Jungkookie," you teased.

"Noona..."

"And you?"

You felt Yoongi grasp your chin, tipping you back in Jungkook's arms. Some of your hair fell over your eyes, hazing your vision of Yoongi. Even so, his intent was obvious. You could feel it in his gaze, the burning hunger, his fingertips caressing your chin, leaning forward slightly to observe you.

I want to ruin you.

Yoongi didn't have to say it. You knew it, pierced by the predatory glint in his eyes. You could tell he missed this, could tell that he wanted to give in to his desires, wanted to lose control, only limited by his own physical body.

However.

He pressed his thumb into your lower lip, lifting a brow.

Jungkook was here now.

Yoongi gave you his trademark open-mouthed smirk.

"Ruin me," you whispered, staring into those cat-like dark brown eyes. The recognition was instant, pleased that you knew what he wanted. You shifted your attention to the maknae, his chocolate eyes wide, watching your tongue slide out and licking Yoongi's thumb. "Ruin me, Jungkook."

You loved the way Jungkook could turn from blushing anxiousness to sly confidence, and all it took was your words and the way you said them, enabling him in the best way possible. The dark blue hair helped accented the shift in demeanor, creating cool-toned shadows over his lightly tanned skin.

"Anything for you," Jungkook purred.

You gasped sharply as you felt two fingers slide into you, Jungkook’s thumb rubbing your overstimulated clit. Your body jerked, trying to get away, but Yoongi's hand on your chin slid down, pressing on your chest, holding you still, your name a dangerous rasp from Yoongi's lips.

"Stay still."

Your eyes flickered down. Right hand. Okay. You shouldn’t be worried anymore, but you were. It was habit.

"Yoon–ah!"

You gasped, left arm firmly behind Jungkook's shoulders and the other behind you, your hand on the bed to steady your balance as Yoongi shoved the bra cups down, exposing your breasts. He lowered his head, the contact of his lips on your hot skin paired with Jungkook's thrust of his fingers into your pussy. Instant waves of pleasure overtook you, fingers sinking into the sheets and Jungkook’s hair, fuck, his beautiful navy hair standing out against your skin and, for some reason, seeing that made you feel prettier, thrusting your chest in Yoongi’s face to get more into his mouth, spreading your legs wide to give Jungkook more access.

Only a brief moment of, I should know better, I shouldn’t be doing this, and then Yoongi’s eyes were on you, tongue flicking your red nipple.

Let go.

Was this even fair to them? Could you satisfy both? Could you and should you? But Yoongi’s eyes were telling you to let go, to chase the feeling, to give in, and hunt the desperation and the want. They wanted you. There was nothing like this and there will never be anything like this again.

“Give it to me,” Yoongi growled.

You whined sharply as you felt two more fingers push into you, but not Jungkook’s fingers, Yoongi’s fingers, his thumb joining Jungkook’s on your clit and your eyes rolled back, so wet and aroused from knowing both Jungkook’s and Yoongi’s fingers were thrusting into you, four in total, your pussy sucking them in, back arching as Yoongi sucked on your nipple. So much pleasure, rapidly ascending higher and higher, so fucking full and tight that their fingers were making sloppy smacking sounds, matching rhythm so they filled you completely together, all at once.

You couldn’t stop your hips from meeting them, fingers spreading out in Jungkook’s hair and the sheets as you came hard, gasping their names, euphoria soaring through your nerves, and still they didn’t stop even though your pussy was violently spasming, creating a messy splatter of your juices on the inside of your thighs and their hands. Instead, the pace changed, Yoongi switching sides on your chest, and then you really couldn’t think, because Jungkook was lowering his head too, and now both of your nipples were getting abused, Jungkook’s arm firmly under your upper back to hold you up, not letting you fall.

“Yoongi, Jungkook… p-please, oh fuck!”

Your other hand flew up and buried in Yoongi’s dark locks, both hands in their hair now, one blue, one black, another orgasm crashing down, moan torn from your chest. And they kept going, changing the pace again, your toes and fingers curling, every muscle tense with irresistible, consuming ecstasy that you almost felt a little numb, unable to compute anything else but your body scantily covered in lace, two mouths sucking on your nipples, four fingers stuffed into you, clit engorged and sending violent shocks throughout your system. You couldn’t even discern one orgasm from another, pussy continuously throbbing and convulsing with the continuous, chained orgasms, so wet that it was soaking the tops of your stockings, the sweet honey of your cum the predominant scent in the room.

“I… I-I can’t take a-anymore, please…”

Your legs threatened to close but Yoongi snapped his head up, snarling your name dangerously.

“One more,” he ordered. “Give us one more.”

“Your pussy feels so good,” Jungkook panted, saliva dripping down your chest. “I love it so fucking much, even when it’s around my fingers.”

You were trying to hold back, trying to control it, tensing everything, your core, your legs, your arms, and you didn’t even realize it, but you held your breath too, biting your lip and seeing Yoongi and Jungkook at the same time, both watching you, fingers punishingly squelching into your tight little hole, stretching it out unforgivingly, abused clit pulsating so hard it almost hurt, and it was exactly what you wanted, brimming, boiling pleasure that threatened you on the brink, closer, closer, closer, and the world was almost hazy with how ferociously you had constricted the coil.

“Fuck!”

You threw your head back, back abruptly arching and smacking them in the face with your tits as everything came plummeting down, resolve cracking with a wanton howl, orgasm racking through your entire frame so hard that your body lurched and flinched, Yoongi and Jungkook cradling you while you rode your high, grinding your hips into their hands and carnally moaning, liquid gushing out and dripping down your legs, your ass, down Jungkook’s sweatpants and onto the bed.

It was such an intense orgasm that you were lightheaded, hands slipping out of their hair and falling down, drained, aftershocks causing your body to shudder, even as they removed their fingers. Your clit was still throbbing, pumps of pleasure spreading through you.

It was obscene witnessing Yoongi and Jungkook cleaning their fingers off right in front of you, pink tongues sliding between the digits, licking off your viscous cum, giving you a perverse sense of satisfaction when Yoongi moaned softly and Jungkook groaned lowly, savoring your taste like a fine wine. Yoongi spied your exhausted, smug expression.

“Do you think you’re done?”

You gave him a weak smirk. “I better not be.”

“Sit in Jungkook’s lap,” Yoongi said calmly. “Face me.”

You tilted your head curiously but did as you were told, shifting your still quivering legs so your thighs were on the outside of Jungkook’s thighs, the balance a little difficult, but Yoongi took your hands and placed them around his hips. You held onto him as he lifted his shirt, pulling it over his head.

“Jungkook, rip her panties off.”

Wait, what did Min Yoongi just s–?

Two strong hands dug out the lace trapped in your ass and fastened around the thin fabric.

Riiiiiiip!

“Yoongi!”

The shirt fluffed his black hair as he removed it, dropping it onto his chair. You glared at him as Yoongi looked down at you, expression blank, dark brown orbs full of mischief.

“You knew it was going to happen. If he wasn’t going to rip it, I was.” Yoongi placed his right hand on his left shoulder. His tone dropped, mockingly rueful. “You wouldn’t want me to hurt myself, right?”

Yeah, this was why you didn’t wear lingerie.

But, also, this was why you wore it today.

You felt Jungkook tugging off the now useless pair of panties, plucking them out from under your garter belt. Oh well. You liked the red more anyway. That’s why you had bought two sets, after all.

“Remind me to take all the bits before I go,” you grumbled.

“Sure, noona.” Jungkook dangled the said lacy bits next to your head. You narrowed your eyes and mouth into slits even though he couldn’t see. “I’ll put them in my pocket.” You felt him shove them into his sweatpants.

Were you… going to remember?

Yoongi beckoned you. You shot him a warning look, still annoyed, but Yoongi pointed down to your hands on his hips.

“Isn’t there something you want?” Yoongi mused in that raspy, dark tone, the one that made your irritation fade instantly and replace it with arousal. “Take it.”

He cocked his head, shading his dark eyes with his hair, pink lips parting, the slightest hint of a smirk. Challenging you. Go on. Show me how much you want me. Your body still buzzed with the aftermath of moments before and yet you still lowered your head, sliding your hips back, sucking in a breath as your puffy pussy lips touched Jungkook’s toned chest, smearing yourself on his skin.

“Ooh, I like this,” Jungkook murmured, leaning back a little to give you space. You rocked your hips into his torso, his muscles flexing under you opening, inflamed clit brushing against his hardness. You pushed Yoongi’s pants and underwear down, dipping your head, hearing Yoongi breathe your name lustfully.

“That’s a pretty picture.”

He was only semi-hard, but he was getting harder and harder, watching you grind against Jungkook’s pecs. You knew exactly how to get him the hardest, dipping down and latching your mouth around one of his balls.

“Fuck, yes,” Yoongi gasped, his hand coming up and fitting behind your head. You sucked it into your mouth and then extended your tongue, bouncing the other with your wet muscle while sucking the first one. The first time you did this, Yoongi was literally speechless, sputtering and confused at how you could stimulate both at once and in two different ways, sucking with your lips as your tongue flicked against the other, slurping slightly to add vibration over the sensitive skin. You felt his cock swell, smacking your cheek, fully hard at the combined sensations.

“I still don’t know how you do that,” Yoongi gritted out, keeping your hair away from your face.

“Do what?” Jungkook asked behind you, one hand on your ass and squeezing it.

“She can suck one of your balls and lick the other at the same time.”

“What?!”

You yelped at the sharp sting of Jungkook’s slap to your ass.

“How come you never did that for me?” Jungkook complained, whining a little.

You tried to lift your head, but Yoongi’s hand refused to move. You make a muffled noise of distaste, but Yoongi answered for you as you switched sides.

“Have you asked?” Yoongi replied calmly, sighing in satisfaction.

“How am I supposed to know she has porn star skills?”

“Is this a discussion for right now?” you mumbled into Yoongi’s balls.

“No, because you’re supposed to be swallowing.”

“Wha–”

The second your mouth opened, Yoongi nudged his cock between your lips and you wrapped them around it, moaning as his stiff length slid down your throat, so satisfying, his taste on your tongue, so delicious that you didn’t even want to complain, you only wanted to bob your head up and down, hands on his hips. Yoongi chuckled above you, guiding your head with his right hand, left loosely by his side. You slid your lower body up and down Jungkook’s chest, your increased slickness adding more stimulation.

“Fuck, that’s so damn hot,” you heard Jungkook groan. There was a rustle of fabric and then skin on skin, his muscular arm brushing against your stocking clad thigh with every stroke.

If only you could take a picture and could see how sexy you were, blowing Yoongi with his hand behind your head, tucking the head of his cock into your throat a little deeper every time you descended, your pussy sliding up and down Jungkook’s chest, and Jungkook furiously jacking himself off while watching you suck his hyung off, feeling your slippery clit throb against his skin.

Good thing the door was locked, because of any other member walked in on this, it might have become a damn foursome.

“Close,” Yoongi panted, fingers digging into your scalp. “You want it like this?”

You hummed approvingly in your chest, increasing your pace and fucking Jungkook’s torso harder, nearing your end too, Jungkook moaning louder and pumping himself harder. So many indecent sounds, skin on skin, mouth on skin, hand on skin, moaning, crying out around Yoongi’s cock, his saliva-covered balls smacking you in the chin, you ass slapping down on Jungkook’s chest.

Hot, wet, positively sinful.

The chain reaction started with Jungkook. He came suddenly, choking on your name, shooting up your chest, warm stickiness splattering onto your skin and you squeezed your eyes shut, moaning as you came all over his chest, slippery and sweet, drenching his skin, throat muscles tightening, Yoongi whimpering your name, a rare moment of lost control as he thrust his hips into your lips, coating your throat with thick hot strings, forcing you to swallow fast, the pressure satisfying and overwhelming, gulping it all down eagerly.

You did ask to be ruined.

Just… a little more.

Your eyes were still closed, lazily licking Yoongi’s twitching length. He was panting above you, gently stroking your hair, words so soft that they were almost inaudible.

“I love you…”

You went all the way down and Yoongi groaned, your tongue flicking the top of his balls, rapid, swift laps that made his cock swell again, bending against the roof of your mouth. Yoongi chuckled, knowing exactly what you were doing.

“Still want more?”

You backed up, panting hard, Jungkook’s cum clinging to your chest and lingerie, hair a mess from Yoongi’s hand.

“Want your cock in my pussy,” you demanded hoarsely. “Want you to fuck me, Yoongi.”

He pretended to think about it. “Hmm, I don’t know…”

You got off Jungkook’s lap, snaking around the younger man’s body, crawling onto the bed, eyes on Yoongi, his intense gaze following you, enticed by your movement. On all fours, hips in the air, dropping your chest down a little, the curve of your back accentuating the roundness of your bare ass. Still in your garter belt and stockings, your bra half-off, the lowered cups pushing your breasts together invitingly. Jungkook turned his head, pink lips parting as your fingers fanned out over the sheets, one eyebrow arching gracefully.

“Jungkook in front. Yoongi behind.”

“Do… Do you want a towel or something, noona?” Jungkook asked, blinking rapidly at your assertiveness.

“I want to get fucked and I want to get fucked now, so get over here.”

“Bed’s going to be a mess,” Yoongi remarked, moving quickly, shedding his pants and going for the nightstand, taking out a condom.

“We can sleep in Jungkook’s room,” was your dry reply, yanking Jungkook’s hips towards you after he removed his sweatpants.

“Wha– ack!”

You spread his legs out in front of you, eyes roaming over his naked body, admiring it all, his legs, his abs, his pecs, covered in your drying juices, his adorable surprised face, navy curls around his chiseled cheeks, chocolate eyes round and awed at your prowess. Your hands were on his knees, breasts hanging down, breathing hard, adrenaline humming in your veins.

“You are so fucking pretty it’s unreal,” Jungkook breathed.

You grinned.

“I can’t wait for you to fuck my face.”

Jungkook grinned back at you.

You dove down, tits bouncing before becoming squashed against the bed, Jungkook’s drying cum flaking off as you wrapped your lips around one of his balls, moaning as you felt Yoongi’s hands firmly grip your hips.

“You have to help me a little,” Yoongi murmured.

“I will, hyung.”

“I mean her too,” the older man chuckled, smacking your ass playfully. Your tongue flitted out, slurping at Jungkook’s other ball from the side of your mouth as you sucked the first one, wiggling your ass at Yoongi to indicate that you heard him. Jungkook yelped, hands slamming down onto the pillows and clutching them, moaning out your name.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, holy shit…” His head hit the headboard lightly, speaking to the ceiling and maybe even the higher power himself. “H-How...? Why does it feel s-so good…?”

You felt Yoongi slide in, so easy because of all those back-to-back orgasms, and yet he still hissed at your tightness, muscles holding him firmly. You could cry with how good it felt, Yoongi finally fully inside you once again, filling you up just the way you liked, knowing how to hit your deepest spot right away, skillful and wonderful. You licked up Jungkook’s now hard length, moaning deeply as you slapped your hips back into Yoongi’s crotch. Yoongi moaned to match yours, enraptured by the feeling.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, nails digging into your ass. “Missed you so fucking much, my love.”

“I’ll do the moving, love,” you gasped back, squeezing Yoongi’s cock inside you. You reached for Jungkook’s right hand and grabbed it, planting it on your head. “Fuck my face, Jungkook. Please. Don’t hold back until you cum.”

Jungkook bit his lip, exhaling your name. “I think I love you.”

“And I definitely love you, so please give it to me.”

You closed your lips around him and sank down, looking up at him and his sweaty dark blue hair, his blown-out pupils, his outstretched tattooed arm, so fucking hot, fuck yes you loved him, him and his body and his work ethic and his sweetness and his firmness as he obeyed your command, thrusting into your mouth from below, filling your throat with the thick head.

Perfect.

You rocked your hips back to Jungkook’s rhythm, matching him, slow at first, but gradually faster, rougher, planting your hands on the bed for balance, completely focused on clenching your core and your mouth to fit the two cocks, giving them the maximum amount of pleasure that you could offer, suffocating them with tightness. It if was obscene before, it was ten times obscener now, Yoongi’s hand on your hip, barely having to move as you smacked your ass into him, Jungkook lurching you forward with his force, clenching his jaw as he chased his release, the bed screaming for help and none of you listening.

“You’re so fucking sexy, fuck, you always make me feel so good, can’t help but want you, need you, miss you so fucking much,” Jungkook gritted out, fingers curling in your hair, desperately and viscerally whimpering out your name as you tipped your head to change the angle, the sensitive head dragging against the roof of your mouth as he buried himself in your throat. “You’re so good to me, such a soft and tight mouth, fuck.”

You arched your back a little more, Yoongi hitting you deeper, hearing him suck in a tight breath at your movement.

“Tighter,” Yoongi growled. “I’m close, come on, give it to me.”

And then he smacked your ass with his open palm, making you moan around Jungkook’s thick cock, pussy clenching around Yoongi’s entire length, and then again, smack! Control slipping with every hit, falling into Jungkook’s pace, the sheer force of his hips pushing you down on Yoongi’s cock over and over, now only focused on hollowing out your cheeks and gripping Yoongi’s cock, the sudden twitching indicating that Yoongi was close, so close, holding out a little so he could watch you longer, torturing you just the way you liked, but he couldn’t hold out for long because you didn’t let him, walls pulsating around him brutally as you came, stuffed so full that you couldn’t think. Yoongi groaned your name, gripping your ass with both hands and digging his nails in your softness, cock jolting as he came in thick pumps, filling up the condom and swelling it against your walls.

It took Jungkook a little longer, but not that much longer, your mouth still locked tight and he hissed out your name, whimpering as he came down your throat, filling it with cum once again, so fast that you had to swallow hastily to breathe, and yet there was more, thick salty dribbles that made you moan, so delicious that you leaned into it, sucking Jungkook dry.

“A-ah, n-noona…”

Your body ached, flinching from oversensitivity, your mind swimming with pleasure. Had it ever felt this good before? You slid off Jungkook’s cock, falling against his thigh and using it like a pillow, chest heaving, sticky all over, lips overused, pussy throbbing, barely realizing that Yoongi had pulled out, far too spent to see straight.

“Fuck, I love you two…”

Yoongi’s face suddenly appeared, smug expression above you. He had crawled over your body, ruffled black hair hanging down, dark cat eyes gleaming.

“Romantic.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Mmm.”

He leaned down and kissed you, smiling against your lips, mouthing his love to you, forming each word against your skin slowly so you knew. You smiled back, showering him with light pecks, mouthing the words back to him. Yoongi purred and lifted himself up, taking you with him.

“I can’t move,” you complained, using your arms to push yourself up to avoid straining Yoongi’s shoulders. He chuckled, not the least bit fooled by your whines. He pushed you into Jungkook’s hard chest, covered in sweat and cum, and sandwiched you between them, your face right beside Jungkook’s, cheek to cheek. You could feel the heat in his face, his hair sticking to it.

“Noona?”

“Hm?”

Everything was far too messy for this cuddle session, but that could wait.

“Is it okay if I love you?” Jungkook mumbled, burying his nose in your hair.

“Mhm,” Yoongi responded, sounding sleepy.

You brushed Jungkook’s hair away from his face. “I would very much like that.”

“Everything is dirty,” Yoongi grumbled.

“You are a main contributor,” you said cheerfully.

Yoongi grunted, leaning against you, squashing you a little harder against Jungkook. Nothing to complain about. You were enjoying every second of this.

“Jungkookie?”

“Hm, noona?”

You reached up and ran a hand through his dark cerulean hair. Jungkook hummed appreciatively, closing his eyes at your touch.

“You know this shade is Cookie Monster blue, right?”

“… Hah?”

“Does that make you Ggukkie Monster?”

Yoongi burst out laughing, raspy and full, a rare moment of Min Yoongi absolutely losing his shit.

part v "Sorry, Jungkook, you're not allowed this time."

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoonkook x reader #yoonkook smut #jungkook smut #yoongi smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x you #suga x you #suga x reader

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one-piece-aus · 3 years

Text

Rainbow

X Drake x Reader | 100 Music Milestone Event

X Drake + 🔀 + Fluff + 🥚 | Requested by: @musical-apple

Ashes littered the ground, building remains scattered across the ruined city. A year has passed, and X Drake has come across a hand full of survivors left. Life began fading of it's meaning, everything he saw only grew grimmer with each passing day. Though, when all hope was on it's final edge, he found you.

You were rummaging through the rubble, a smile on your face and humming a little tune. The sight was so out of place, Drake thought this had been a hallucination or a trick someone set up. Cautious, he placed his hand on the handle of the sword that rested at his side before approaching you.

"Excuse me, miss?" Drake spoke so he wouldn't startle you.

"Hm?" You looked up to meet his blue eyes. "Oh! Another survivor!" You immediately stood up and stumbled over the junk to him. "Hi there, I'm [Y/n]! I- woah!" You tripped over something braced yourself for impact but instead, you felt strong arms around your torso. You glance up and saw Drake had caught you in his arms. You bashfully smile and stand up straight and back away. "Sorry 'bout that, it's been a while since I've seen someone new."

"It's... It's alright miss."

"Oh no need to be formal, you already know my name."

"Right..." Drake deadpanned. He didn't understand how you can be so cheerful with the current post-apocalyptic situation around you. Then again, maybe you were just happy to see another person, it was a natural thing to do after being alone for so long. "How long has it been since you last saw someone?"

"Not long ago actually."

There goes his theory.

Clearing his throat, Drake held out his hand. "My name is X Drake."

"Nice to meet you, X Drake." You smile and shake his hand. "Tell me, do you have a place to stay, or are looking for one?"

"I've been roaming around to see how many survivors there are."

"Oh! That's perfect! Come, come!" You pulled his arm and begin walking towards a wagon you had stock up with supplies. Grabbing it and trailing it behind you, lead him to the outskirts of the ruined city you two have just been in. You could see the place had more space and tidy up, a few plants growing here and there-

"Is that [Y/n]?" A child's voice whispered.

"[Y/n]'s back!" Another kid cheered, coming out of a large makeshift tent.

"Yay! [Y/n]!"

"Welcome back [Y/n]!"

A bunch of children came out, greeting you with smiles and hugs. You laughed, acknowledging each one that came to you. A few of the older ones reported what went on while you were gone and you praised them for their good work. X Drake stood there in shock, he didn't know so many children had survived.

"[Y/n], who is that funny-looking man over there?" a little girl asked, tugging on your arm and pointing at the male you brought with you.

"This is X Drake," you introduce the children to him, patting his shoulder.

"Is he going to be staying with us?" a boy with raven hair asked, sparkles in his eyes. A few other children joined in, looking up at both of you with wide smiles.

Drake hesitated on answering them, he wasn't exactly planning on settling down yet. He planned on continuing his search for more survivors, or rather a purpose in this wasteland. You noticed the uncertainty in his composer, to be fair, you had just dragged him over to your camp without telling him anything so it was understandable.

"Nothing is set in stone but why don't we show him around and make him feel welcome," you suggested to the children.

"Yeah!"

"Okay [Y/n]-chan!"

"Good idea!"

Two children grabbed a hold of his hands, pulling him along as they showed him the campsite with the rest of the kids. From where they gathered rainwater to where they held medical supplies, Drake had been impressed the place was so well organized. One question bugged his mind, where were the other adults? Surely you weren't the only one, right?

Sundown approached, a few young teens came with animals they caught, surprised by Drake's presence but welcomed him nonetheless. Preparing dinner was a team effort and they did it with a smile on their face, sharing merry laughter. Their cooperation was more efficient than the majority of the survivor groups Drake had come across, which consisted of adults.

That's one of the reasons why Drake kept moving, most of the colonies people formed collapsed on themselves from disagreement and distrust. The ones that were somewhat stable weren't exactly welcoming to newcomers, he didn't blame them after all not every stray was trustworthy in this day and age. However, these children appeared to be the exact opposite of what he experienced in the other groups. He wanted to know where the other adults were, and he would've asked you but you seemed to have your hands full assisting one of the children with something.

"Hey, mister-"

"Onion, his name is Deric." A boy with green hair interrupted his friend who wore glasses.

"No, it's not," a boy with purple hair butted in. "[Y/n] said his name was Drake."

"Oh..."

Drake cleared his throat to regain their attention to see what they needed.

"Can you help hold the stew pot?" The boy who Drake assumed to be named Onion requested. "The others are starting to get tired."

"Of course." Drake obliged, and watched as the kids served everyone as he held the object for them. Just as the last of the kids were receiving their servings, you came over.

"Oh, thank you for helping the kids." You smiled to show your gratitude, and Drake couldn't help but rub the back of his neck bashfully due to your cute expression.

"It's no problem really." The question Drake had popped up in his mind and he thought this was the best time to ask. "[Y/n], are there any adults around here other than you?"

"Uh- well... no, not really," you tell him, your demeanour dropping down slightly. "These kids-"

"[Y/n]! [Y/n]!" the children called, catching your attention. "Come sing for us!" "Yeah!"

"Alright." You glance at Drake and put a hand on his arm. "I'll tell you later."

Getting a nod from the man, you then walk over to the children who were gathered in a circle. Some had finished their bowls of stew and started getting comfy as they waited for you, each one was filled with anticipation. Wearing a smile, you knelt down and boop a little girl's nose, beginning to sing.

"I know you, you're a special one"

You shift yourself back to the rest of the child, opening yours for them to come and hug you.

"Some see crazy where I see love"

Two small kids come to you and you scoop them up, spinning them around in the air.

"You fall so low but shoot so high"

You let one sit on your shoulders while the other stays in your arms, and you nod your head to the orange sky.

"Big dreamers shoot for open sky"

Turn the child in your arms so you can see their eyes and boop their nose.

"So much life in those open eyes"

Gently you put the two children down.

"So much depth, you look for the light"

You crouch down, opening your palm to show scratches and scars on them.

"But when your wounds open, you will cry"

A small girl slowly approach your hand and touches them, curiously looking in your eyes as you tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"You'll cry out now and you'll question why"

You pick up the small girl and rocket her to sleep as you continue singing the melody.

"I can see a rainbow

In your tears as they fall on down

I can see your soul grow

Through the pain as they hit the ground

I can see a rainbow

In your tears as the sun comes out~

As the sun comes out~"

Drake watches in amazement, witnessing how your gentle nature soothes the children. Blissful smiles grew on the kids face, some swayed to your tune, others yawned and rested their head on the one beside them. Though, what captivated him had been the sound of your soft voice and the way words would flow from out of your lips. As you sung, he had almost forgotten the post-apocolyptic lifestyle he was in.

When the last note left your lips, the eldest children of the group who didn't fall asleep began to carry the sleeping kids to the tent. You smiled, proud to see them taking care of the others. Your thoughts were interrupted by Drake humming in thought, who was also watching the teens take the younger kids to the large tent.

"Ah, right, I suppose we didn't finish our conversation..."

"It's alright, your main concern for the children so I can understand," Drake stated before turning his gaze to you.

"The children... don't have anywhere to go," you inform him. "Most lost their parents or family, and you've seen the other survival groups. They don't have children... they don't want them... People think a child will slow them down in this life, but they're not looking in the long run. These kids are our future generation, our hope for humanity to continue. I... I just have to take care of them, give them a reason to keep going. I have to stay positive for them... I have to be their rainbow." You face lost that glimmer of joy, displaying one that held struggle and worry.

So that's why you had been smiling, you were putting on a brave face for the children. It makes sense, but Drake is amazed how one could stay like that for so long, it must get tiring. Hesitantly, he spoke up.

"I can't imagine how hard it can be..." Drake told you and a few seconds of silence followed before he continued. "You're stronger than most of my old co-workers."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I was a cop before this whole mess..."

"Ah... that's cool..."

"What were you back then?"

"I didn't really have anything... I was broke, in debt, about to lose my house... in a way... this new life is better."

Drake never believed someone out there would say those words, however, hearing her reasons it did make sense. He didn't think of looking at the positive this life had brought. Prehaps if he stayed his mindset could change.

"Do you think there's enough room for another person to settle here?" Drake asked rubbing the back of his neck.

"Of course, there's always room for you to stay." You smile, answering him.

An MLP song + an apocalyptic wasteland + wholesome & adorable children, if that's not a cracked combination than I don't know what is.

Anyway, thank you for reading, your request, and your follow ^-^

#one piece #one piece au #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece oneshot #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #x drake x reader #x drake #one piece x drake #post apocalyptic #post apocalypse #post apocalypse au #request #milestone event #requested

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softyoongiionly · 4 years

Text

Bunny Do

You and your husband live in a cottage together in the forest.

Welcome to a day in your life.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, slice of life au, domestic au, DO I EVER WRITE ANY OTHER KIND OF JUNGKOOK? No. I have a problem

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Well hey there. Look it’s Aqua, back with ANOTHER Jungkook domestic au. Seriously someone needs to stop me. This is just excessive at this point. Anyways, I freaking love you. Yes you. Hi, I love YOU. Ok bye.

this fic is dedicated to @bulletproofbirdy whom I love with my whole entire heart. The war has begun.

IMPORTANT: Please check out this link and do what you can! All lives can’t matter until black lives do.

https://softyoongiionly.tumblr.com/post/621111679997050880/jakegyllenhaals-here-is-a-carrd-for-blm-here

Warnings: swearing, Jungkook abs, smut (18+ only plz)

Chaos is not something you’ve been apart of for quite some time.

You traded in your busy life of hustling and turned away the bustling city you were born in to retreat into what could only be described as paradise.

Sure, the bugs can be a bit overwhelming and mating season amongst your animal neighbors doesn’t provide the most serene of soundtracks but, it was home.

Home is now a small cottage nestled into the forest at the base of Mount Iridescence.

The exterior is made of smooth grey stone and the roof, which your husband laid by hand, is made from the finest oak the two of you could find.

Of course, the exterior is covered in greenery, it wouldn’t be a cottage paradise if it weren’t.

The front of the cottage is adorned with a massive flower garden full of white daisies, pink roses, yellow tulips and tons of baby’s breath.

Your porch served multiple purposes; housing the ridiculous amount of plants you’ve nursed, providing shelter to the occasional racoon or squirrel and, allowing you and your husband to watch the sun kiss the crest of the mountains every evening.

The interior of your cottage was intentionally simple. Other than your husband’s many homemade ceramic pieces, the main source of décor was of course, more greenery. White linen, chocolate colored clay and, delicate lace also accented the inside of your home.

Behind the cottage was essentially a small zoo, complete with a dozen chickens, a handful of geese, a cow named Jezabel, a llama named Su and, two baby bunnies named Floof and Tokki.

Beside the animals was a garden that provided many of the ingredients you use in your kitchen every day; broccoli, cauliflower, pumpkin, green peppers, jalapeños, garlic, thyme, parsley, tomatoes, strawberries, grapes and carrots. There was a lemon tree or two as well but, the garden was consistently expanded as you and your husband learned new ways to be better plant parents.

The point is, you had made yourself a nice little life in the forest.

An odd trip into town occurred every week or so as well as visits to friends and family but overall, life had resigned to the small nook in the forest.

You had never felt more at peace...

“JAGI,TOKKI IS MISSING!!!”

Your husband’s urgent call rips you out of your gratitude as you begin frantically looking towards the direction of his voice.

“What??? Are you sure?! We locked their little home last night didn’t we?”

You’re now questioning every life decision you’ve ever made and whilst you’d like to be absolutely certain you’d never do anything to endanger the lives of your two tiny fluffy children, the fear in your husbands voice is unsettling.

Finally he whips around the corner, his black hair flopping about as he does, eyes wide with panic.

“I can’t find him anywhere- I went to feed them and I can only see Floof!”

“You checked under the patch of bedding in the left corner? He’s always hiding under there...” You insure, your breathing slightly increasing.

He seems to deflate beneath your question and, suddenly a rush of pink comes across his cheeks, “I- well...ok I may have forgot to check underneath the bedding...”

He rushes out the last bit of his words before hastily running to the backyard. Despite your inability to keep up with your freakishly athletic husband, your anxiety is fueling your movements to the point that you aren’t far behind him.

“Excuse me Su, Jezebel! Ge-Get out of my way please!”

You hear him try and reason with the ladies currently blocking his path as he nearly trips over some stray chicken wire.

“Slow down!” You call after him, slightly out of breath as you see Jungkook halt abruptly in front of the baby blue hutch housing the bunnies.

“Hi Floof, sorry to bother you again I’m just gonna-” Jungkook murmurs into the hutch as you finally catch up to him.

Eagerly, you peak over his shoulder, heart wildly thrashing in your chest as you see him lift up the fluffy padding on the bottom of their home.

Sure enough, Tokki is sleeping soundly beneath the padding, his small caramel colored body curled into a little ball, completely unaware of the panic over his disappearance.

“Oh god...babe I’m so sorry, I just freaked out I thought- I thought I let him out because, I was the last one out here last night.”

You can hear the tightening in his voice and it sends a thousands pangs of sadness into your heart.

Kissing your teeth, you pull him into your chest, laughing gently as you pat his back.

“Hey, hey it’s ok sweetheart. He’s right here yeah? You’d never forget to lock them up.”

His hands quickly find the back of your cotton dress, clinging to you tigher than you’d expect before tucking his face into your neck.

With a kiss he mumbles, “ ‘m sorry I scared you, I was trying to finish all the chores since you worked so hard on the garden yesterday.”

“You’re so sweet.” You peck at his cheek, “And wonderful.” Another peck, “And amazing.” Peck. “And cute.” Your kisses move lower so they are focused on his neck, “And I love you.”

With the onslaught of kissing, Jungkook snickers and playfully wiggles away from you as the sensations overwhelm his sensitive skin.

Despite the bit of tears that stain his cheeks, his brilliant smile is out to play as his hands find your waist to pull you against him.

“Soft.” He teases, sniffling slightly but the love in his eyes is unavoidable, “I love you too...”

“You really want to talk about who is soft right now?” You quirk an eyebrow, “You’re still crying...”

At this he laughs, his body shaking as he pulls you in closer to him, the scent of his eucalyptus body wash enticing your senses.

“Shhhh...” He giggles, pecking the shell of your ear playfully, “Our children are safe, let’s just pretend this never happened.”

You giggle and shrink away from his kiss before your body seems to snap back like an elastic band, your arms wrapping around his waist.

“Fair enough. As long as you promise to check the ENTIRE hutch next time.”

He nods, smirking against the side of your head, “Deal.”

As you pull away from him, you feel a pang of regret, wishing desperately that you were able to stay near him for the entire morning.

Or the entire day...

Or the entire year...

But who’s counting?

However, cottages do not tend themselves and while you have the strongest urge to pull your husband into your bedroom, you know that there are chores to finish.

Jungkook’s eyes are on you, like he’s reading the script inside your head and as much as you’d like to convince him (and yourself) that everything in there is PG, you both know it’s not.

Newlyweds are like that right?

All passion, no pause.

Sex, love, touching, laughing, getting drunk off of one another...

It’s a daily occurrence.

The honeymoon phase isn’t supposed to last forever but, you’ve been back from your honeymoon for 4 years now and you swear you want him more than you did when you first met him.

He giggles then, like a school-boy, his eyes alight with mischief.

“Stop staring at me...” He tucks a finger underneath your chin, “Weirdo...”

His soft cherry lips tuck into yours then, slowly unwinding you with his kiss as his fingers delicately cup your face.

Of course you reciprocate, drinking up every bit of his affection that you can, your hands sliding beneath the white t-shirt that hangs loosely off of his body.

Jungkook shudders as he feels your fingers brush over his lower stomach, arousal beginning to bubble up in his gut.

However, you aren’t going to let his snarky comment go unpunished so as you peek an eye open you say, “The hutch is still open...”

With a pop, he pulls away from your kiss with wide eyes to check on the bunnies. Once he’s satisfied with their well-being, he gently shuts the hutch and turns back to you.

“Rude.” He remarks, trying to appear unamused, “I was literally trying to make out with you.”

A laugh leaves your lips, “You can make out with me later...” You lean in to peck the mole beneath his lip, “We have chores to finish.”

“wE hAvE cHorES to FInisH...” He mocks you playfully and snickers as he narrowly avoids your hand as you swat at him, “I’m kidding! I’m kidding you’re right...just c’mere one last time...”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion but because you are completely weak for him, you allow him to tug you against his chest once more.

“I love you Mrs. Jeon...” He vows but this time, you can practically taste the sincerity in his tone as he kisses the side of your head, then your cheek, then your lips, “I’ll see you in a bit ok?”

With nothing but warmth in your chest, you offer him a cheesy smile and give him a proper hug.

“I love you too Mr. Jeon...”

As the two of you part ways he turns around to continue his tasks revealing to you the sculpt of his ass within his black jeans.

And of course, you smack it.

Because, who the hell wouldn’t?

“Don’t forget the chicken coop!”

You yell as he jumps a mile high.

“YAH!” He calls after you, chuckling to himself, his cheeks reddening involuntarily.

The rest of the morning passes easily.

You harvest the various herbs and produce from your garden, clean the bathroom, organize the refrigerator after your grocery delivery and catch up on some of your reading before deciding to make some lunch.

Jungkook had been out all morning as well: tending to the animals, fixing some of the fencing, weeding, repotting some flowers and, mowing the front lawn.

He’s probably feeling the same level of hunger that you are so, you head out to the backyard to ask him what he’s in the mood for.

It takes a minute for you to find him but, when you do...you really regret that you did.

His white t-shirt has been discarded over the fence; the only left adorning his body are the dark wash denim jeans, his black work boots and, sweat.

Before he even notices your presence, he pushes his sweaty mop of hair away from his face, squinting at the ray of sunshine currently in his eyes.

He truly has no idea how attractive he is.

But you certainly do.

And you feel like you’re going to faint.

His wedding band catches the sunlight and it reminds you, once again, that this man is your husband.

Which is a fairytale within itself.

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck, wincing slightly before his hand slides down to rub over his stomach (abs), signifying in his own way that he’s hungry.

Which causes you to remember why you came to find him in the first place.

“H-hey babe!’” You call gently, your voice wavering.

Eyes widening a bit, he hones in on the sound of your voice, his face lighting up as he sees you.

“Yah! There she is! Are you all done?”

You smile, adjusting your clothes and wishing that your knees were kissing the soft grass of the garden.

Nodding, you step a little closer to him, trying to avoid full-on eye contact, “Yeah, I just finished up, do you want something to eat? I was gonna make lunch...”

“That depends...” He maneuvers his head to try and catch your attention, his body bending slightly in the process, “Are you on the menu?”

He has the audacity to throw a smirk and an over the top wink your way before immediately cackling as you roll your eyes.

“Shut up...” You shake your head, trying desperately to fight the urge to smile at him but when his face lights up with laughter, you have no other choice.

“Are you????” He insists loudly as he turns to sling his shirt over his shoulder, “I’m starving.”

The way he says the last part of his sentence is less funny as there is clearly some humor disappearing from his tone but, his charming smirk remains on his lips.

As he strolls over to you and, you almost have half a mind to retreat back into the house because, your ability to keep from ogling at him is slowly fading.

“I was going to make something with the broccoli I harvested this morning...” You insist, playfully turning away from him when he tries to lean down and kiss you.

"Kiss meee...” He pleads, pouting his pretty lips, the sweat still very present on his figure, “I’ve been working really hard.”

The way he whines at you is actually kind of hot and, coupled with his slick backed hair and his shirtless torso, it’s getting hard to bring yourself to remember why you originally came looking for your husband.

You oblige, kissing the salt from his lips, indulging in the musky scent emanating from his body.

Jungkook doesn’t like to be dirty but ever since moving to the cottage, he’s fallen in love with working outside and doesn’t focus so heavily on being spotless.

“I came out here to ask you what you wanted to eat and, now you’re flustering me in the middle of our garden all over again.” You accuse, smiling against his lips, “You need to eat something, I didn’t see you take any fruit this morning.”

He rests his forearms atop your shoulders, grinning shamelessly, “If you weren’t so adamant on feeding me, I could be doing more than just flustering you.”

Jungkook really is an anomaly.

Hours earlier, he was crying into your neck over possibly letting out the bunnies and, now he’s using his charm and good looks to reduce you to a pile of lust.

Unfair.

“Did you not get enough last night? I’m pretty sure we were at it til after 1...”

Jungkook raises a brow, his grin never fading, “Did you? You’re the one pressing your thighs together right now.”

“No, I’m not.” You lie but, to be fair, you didn’t even notice you were doing it until he pointed it out.

“Yes you are.”

“No, I’m just standing here.”

“Babe, we’ve been together for how long now? I know when you’re in the mood. I don’t know why you can never admit it.”

Because you’re stubborn.

You take one of his hands, leaving one of his forearms over your shoulder as you press a chaste kiss to his knuckles, “I don’t know why you think I’m in a mood. I’m simply asking you what you want for lunch and, its quickly turning into an interrogation.”

It’s impossible to hide the smile on your lips because, he’s completely right.

You are in a mood.

You've been in a mood for hours now.

Jungkook smiles softly, unconvinced, his thumb coming up to brush over your bottom lip, “Ok. Whatever you say. I need to shower really quick; do you need help with lunch?”

Are you disappointed that he didn’t keep at it? Yes.

Are you now left flustered and horny without a solution? Yes.

Do you still get a sense of satisfaction that your husband still tries to pursue even after so many years together? Also yes.

“Nope. I’m good. It should be ready in a half hour or so...” You lean up to press a kiss against his cheek, “Love you.”

A half smile comes over his mouth then, his eyes watching your lips, “Love you too.”

It’s later.

You and Jungkook are sitting on your sofa, nestled under a blanket, eating homemade ice cream sundaes. The fire is crackling beneath the mounted television that is set to one of your favorite films whilst the world slowly goes to sleep outside your windows.

Life is sweet.

Literally.

“Yours looks so pretty jagi, how did you get the whipped cream to do that?”

Jungkook’s lips are pouted, his head tilting to get a better look at the perfect swirl of whipped cream atop your chocolate ice cream.

“I just swirled the can around in a circle.” You giggle, tucking your spoon into the fudgy scoop of ice cream in your bowl.

Jungkook is not satisfied with that answer at all and he looks sadly at the haphazard lines of whipped cream on his ice cream.

“Mine’s ugly...” His pout deepens, pushing his spoon around his bowl.

He’s freshly showered, his hair fluffy and damp, his skin moisturized and smelling like mint and sandalwood and now he’s pouting???

This man does not let you breath.

“It’s not ugly! It’s abstract.” You assure him, kissing the pout off his lips.

He doesn’t move even as you kiss him, his eyes eagerly looking towards the kitchen, “I wanna try again...”

The laugh that leaves your lips is unavoidable as you follow his gaze to the kitchen, “You want to try to top your sundae again?”

He deadpans, “Absolutely. I need to get this right. It doesn’t look like a sundae.”

“You’re just going to eat it babe, it’s fine. We can practice whipped cream swirls tomorrow.”

You’re still laughing a little bit and he’s chuckling too but the determination never leaves his eyes.

“No, nowwww.” He whines before pushing his bowl onto the coffee table and bounding over to the kitchen.

He plops back onto the couch, slightly out of breath with the can of whipped cream in his hands.

“Ok-” He grabs his bowl off the table and hands you the can, “Show me the motion again.”

You shake your head, smirking fondly at him whilst you set your bowl down where his was.

“Like this...”

You point the tip of the can downwards at his bowl and make a circular motion with your hand, glancing up towards him to insure he’s watching you.

“Ok- Ok I think I got it. Here...” He gestures to the can, uncapping it before meticulously following the motions you demonstrated, and just like everything else Jungkook does, it comes out perfectly, “Yahhhhh letsgetiittttttt!!!!”

This has you in a fit of a laughter, your chest filling with joy at the sound of his excitement.

Jungkook shoves his sundae into your view, “Don’t laugh! See? It’s so much better now.”

You wipe the tear that’s forming at the corner of your eye, shaking your head at him, once more, “Yes baby, it’s so much better.”

He starts laughing again too because your joy is infectious and he is weak for your smile.

“Thank you. Your expertise is appreciated.”

With that, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side, placing a kiss on the top of your head, “You’re prettier than this sundae though don’t worry.”

You’re all too eager to cuddle in close with him, admiring the way he looks in his gray sweat suit and admiring the way he makes you feel even more.

“I’m glad you find me more attractive than the sundae Jungkook.”

He just smirks, getting to work on his ice cream and as he pulls the spoon out of his mouth, he shrugs, “I find you more edible too but, you aren’t ready for that conversation.”

Although you know there is an err of immaturity to his jokes, they still affect you.

They make you feel like a giddy teenager, sick from the pure lust and attraction you feel for your crush.

The comment also sends a rush of heat to your cheeks but, you don’t say anything, you merely kiss his chest and cuddle closer to him.

He is satisfied regardless as he enjoys the fact that he can still make you blush, even if its with cheesy jokes.

The rest of dessert passes in comfortable silence.

Jungkook finishes before you and, offers to take the dishes to the sink whilst you straighten up the living room before bed.

As you’re folding the cream throw blanket that rests over the arm of your sofa, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist.

He wastes no time by slowly placing kisses down the side of your neck, his hands slowly up towards your breasts but stopping just beneath the swell of them.

“Is it that time jagiya? Can I make you feel good now?”

His request is nearing a whisper, his lips brushing up towards your ear.

You lean back, resting your head on his shoulder whilst your hands settle over the tops of his.

After resisting him for the past 10 hours, you’ve grown tired of waiting.

“Yeah- it’s that time.” You whisper assuredly and at that, he spins you around, pressing his lips eagerly against yours.

His breath stalls a bit as your hands find his hips, squeezing gently whilst the two of you settle into the kiss.

It’s getting too frantic for Jungkook’s liking as he has specific plans for you but, the way you’re kissing him and touching on him is getting to his headspace and he knows he has to stop you before you start kissing his neck.

Because after that, he’s a goner.

“Come here...come sit on the couch for me.” He whispers into your mouth.

Jungkook has you on the couch seconds later, ridding you of your sleep shirt, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

Instinctually, your arms come around your stomach.

You’re not exactly insecure around your husband but, old habits die hard you know?

Jungkook immediately kisses his teeth, bumping your arms with his hand, “Ah ah...don’t hide from me please, I want to see all of you...” He assures you, as he has a million times but it never gets tiring.

To solidify his sentiment, he spreads your thighs gently and leans over and kisses all along your lower stomach, focusing on the areas he knows you don’t like.

He drags his nose across the band of your panties, looking up at you through his hair, “Did I ever tell you how beautiful I think you are?”

You giggle, brushing a hand through his hair to reveal more of his face to you, “I think you have yeah, once or twice...”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking at the sound of your giggle, “Once or twice? Aish that’s certainly not enough...”

“Maybe more than that...” You mumble, a shivering as he runs his nose along your panties again, one of his hands travelling up towards your breast, “All the time.”

He chuckles lowly, “That’s more like it.” He hums, pressing a kiss above your belly button as his fingers brush over your aching nipple, “It’s still not enough though...that’s why I married you. So I’d be able to tell you every single day.”

Your back arches against his hand whilst he slowly rubs over the sensitive skin, bringing it to a frigid peak.

“I love you.”

It’s all you’re able to whisper at the moment because your arousal is starting to invade your ability to form sentences and he clearly has a plan to continue fucking with that.

“I love you jagiya...” Jungkook smirks, kissing over your stomach again before sinking onto his knees, “Can I tease you for a little bit? I wanna make sure your nice and ready for my tongue. That sundae didn’t fill me up enough...”

With a shaky breath you nod, parting your legs further but to be honest, you can’t imagine being anymore ready than you are right now.

“Close your eyes for me.”

You’re engulfed in darkness then, surrendering yourself to whatever he has planned for you.

“Thank you.” He kisses the top of your pussy, allowing his lips to linger there as he inhales, “Fuck- you smell really good. I know you’re probably ready now but, I really want to make you drip if I can.”

His comment causes you to inhale sharply, your nipples hardening almost uncomfortably as begins tickling his fingers up the length of your inner legs. His hands are so soft, so delicate as they touch you, stopping just outside the seam of your panties before travelling back up to your knees. Over and over again, he tickles your skin and eventually he starts tracing the edges of your panties with his fingers.

“Touch your nipples for me. We’re almost there baby, just a little longer.”

He isn’t controlling you.

He isn’t in charge.

He just knows your body so well.

He knows how to make you feel good.

And fuck, if he doesn’t want to make you feel so so good.

You follow his instructions, bringing your fingers to your nipples and rubbing back and forth over the tops of them, the sensations going straight between your legs as your husband continues his teasing.

He slides his index fingers beneath your panties now, allowing the backs of them to brush against the lips of your pussy ever so gently, ignoring the throbbing knot of nerves that needs it the most.

When he’s done there, he focuses the tickling motion just on the outside of your panties, tickling his fingers up and down.

Over and over and over and over...

It’s getting a little overwhelming and, just when you’re about to say something he gasps in admiration.

“Oh look at that jagiya- you did it. You dripped all over your panties for me...”

He sounds genuinely proud of you and, you react to his praise instantly, your eyes opening to catch the smile on his lips.

The darkness in his eyes is obvious but there is mixture of adoration and deviance in there too.

He’s going to destroy you.

“Good girl...” He tickles his fingers over your panties once more before kissing the top of your kneecap, “Are you ready to get your pussy eaten now?”

Your fingers are still lingering on your nipples, your legs twitching at his touch.

You're completely enamored with him.

His praise is addicting and you never want it to end.

“Please.” You clear your throat, brushing a hand through his hair, “Yes please.”

He smirks, almost darkly as he kisses the side of your wrist, “My sweet girl...”

It’s the last thing he says before he’s slipping off your panties and getting to work.

He starts by kissing down the length of your lips a few times but, he knows that the time for teasing his over.

You feel his tongue between your lips then, searching for your swollen clit before getting to work on it.

As he licks you towards bliss, his hands are wandering all over you, squeezing at your hips, brushing over your breasts, rubbing at your stomach.

He wants you to know how much he loves pleasing you.

He groans at the taste of you, his dick hardening almost painfully, precum staining the seam of his sweat pants.

“I- Jungkook I’m gonna cum.” You whisper, hands tangling in his hair as he focuses all of his attention on your clit, licking at it faster and faster.

“Mhm- I know, you’re twitching all over the place for me. Let me taste it beautiful...”

The pleasure launches itself into your senses then, taking up every square inch inside of your body.

You feel your toes curling against the carpet, the back of the couch damp with your own seat as you press your hips towards Jungkook’s mouth.

When it’s over, he’s kissing you and his eagerness accidentally causes him to bite your lip harder than he intends to.

“Shit sorry- I'm so worked up right now. Eating you out makes me crazy...” He whispers shakily and you actually feel for him.

His erection looks painful beneath the confines of his sweat pants and, you want nothing more than to suck the discomfort away.

“Me too- it's ok.” You assure him, brushing his hair away from his face, “Switch me. It’s your turn.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

He’s on the couch, tugging off his sweatshirt, which was sticking to his skin, his hair a mess as he leans back against the couch.

His body is beautiful; tan, toned and covered in little marks that are specific to Jungkook:

Little moles, various old scars and tan lines from working in the sun so much.

He is beautiful, it’s painful.

Chest heaving with excitement, he ushers your mouth to his “Please ride it, I wanna hold you.”

Who are you to refuse him when he asks so politely?

After yanking his sweats off, you’re sitting aside him seconds later, kissing his mouth like your life depended on it.

“Wasn’t our sex life supposed to go stale at this point? What are we doing right?” He jokes, his hands roaming over your back whilst you line him up with your entrance.

“There’s something in the water up here I think.” You giggle and he follows suit, nudging your nose as he tugs you closer to him.

“Oooh good theory.” He smirks and as you sink down on him, he locks eyes with you, allowing you to see his most vulnerable self.

In the midst of pure bliss...

His eyes widen as you engulf him, mouth opening at the sensation before his forehead falls against yours.

“Fuck.”

Bracing your hands behind his head, you start a pace you know will lull him into bliss, all while keeping your eyes on him.

The gaze is so intense between the two of you but with the only sound being labored breathing and your skin slapping together, Jungkook snickers.

“Why does it have to sound like that?” He whispers, burying his face into your neck when you laugh.

“It’s not a cute sound.” You agree, giggling despite sinking feeling in your stomach.

Jungkook’s dick is a work of art and it’s more fulfilling than anything you’ve ever experienced.

It’s going to make you cum again regardless of the unsavory noises filling the living room.

Speaking of cumming, Jungkook seems to be getting further away from humor as you start to bounce faster on him.

“O-oh shit. Okay- fuck keep going jagi. Please keep going- like that...” He moans now, which is something he only reserves to inform you that he’s really close, “Shit. It feels so good.”

To solidify his fate, you usher his face out of your neck to lock eyes with him again.

“Yeah? I want you to feel good. Are you gonna cum inside for me?”

“Yeah...” He nearly chokes when you tighten around him, holding onto your hips for dear life.

“Let me feel it beautiful. Cum for me.”

Using his own words against him was a dirty move but, Jungkook makes no complaints and follows your instruction.

His stomach caves in with the force of his breath as he spills himself inside of you, digging his nails into your hips as he does.

You’re not far behind and with a hand between your legs and your husband whispering encouraging words into your ear, you soon meet the same fate.

The two of you stay wrapped up in one another for quite some time before deciding to clean each other up.

Straightening up the living room was a fruitless endeavor as your clothes end up abandoned on the floor anyway.

You simply can’t be bothered as you usher a very naked, very happy Jungkook to your bedroom.

Beneath the cool cotton sheets, he pulls you against his chest, humming contently.

“I wish I could marry you again- that'd be pretty cool.”

In the darkness, you smile rubbing your face playfully against his skin.

“Mmm no. This time, I’m definitely marrying you.”

He scoffs, “Uh no. You married me last time. I wanna marry you this time.”

“Um? You literally proposed to me last time so no, you married me. This time I get to marry you.”

He snickers, “Oh so are you gonna propose to me this time?”

“Yeah- then I’m gonna marry the heck out of you.”

The lack of light prevents you from seeing how big his smile really is but, you do feel the kiss he places between your eyes, “Fine. I’ll allow it but, only because I love you.”

You unknowingly return his smile, hugging him tightly, “I love you too.”

2K notes · View notes

obutsuwrites · 4 years

Text

crybaby (therapist!overhaul x f!reader)

summary: She nodded, too ashamed and drunk on her own high to function.

Unsatisfied by her response, Chisaki grabbed her face. Her rosy cheeks squished in his grip. Chisaki realized she was cute like this. A little puffy fish.

“You’re being such an annoying pig. My patience is growing thin. Tell me. Tell me you want my cock.” His sentence stumbled from him, in between heavy breaths.

The woman buried her face in his chest, “Please fuck me, Kai. I need it -- please, please, please.” warnings: boot worship, dubcon, light scalpel play, male masturbation, light medical play, praise, smut, overstimulation, yandere elements word count: 4,162 lil note: this was written as part of the bnha degeneracy 9 to 5 collab! also we like the banner?? i’m thinking of bein fancy with my posts now 👉👈 masterlist | tipjar | twitter | commission info | ask box is open (for requests)

"His eyes were lifeless. No light entered, no light left. I guess," the woman pauses and pushes out a gravely sigh, "no… refraction." Chisaki Kai notes she says the word with grief; as if it were painful. He scribbles a note: overemotional. Golden eyes examined the woman. Scanning and memorizing the imperfections in her armor. The woman that sat comfortably. It was like her little sad frame didn't bother her. Her body shook and a whimper escaped.

'Fascinating,' he thought. She was a pathetic creature. Sobbing once a week into his fine leather. The woman was an ugly crier. Her face would swell; puffy and pink. Eyes glossy and red. Sometimes, Chisaki's pants would constrict from the display. Misery in it's finest form. A show just for him.

Chisaki would be lying if he didn't think this blubbering woman would look better wrapped around his cock. Her squishy face smashed against his groin. Eyes watery and looking up, words of praise muffled. Latex gloves gripping her hair as he degrades her. 'A pathetic little crybaby.'

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first time she had cried, Chisaki sent her packing. His stern voice demanding she "fix her attitude" before returning. Yet, the very next week this weepy woman crumbles. Her voice was a howl. Low and haunting. She'd shake. Her tiny body unable to contain grief. It was disgusting. This was time for help, not fits. The second time, Chisaki only found it unsightly.

But the third time? The third time she was able to speak, and her voice trembled. Words so sad and awful. She was lesser than him. She was pathetic.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eventually, Chisaki memorized her trauma; low self esteem and a lack of power from an event involving a roommate. Some days he learned more than others. Sometimes the woman would simply come to cry. No words, simply the sound of her wails. They bounced off the room like rubber. Her sobbing stuck in his ears like honey. Thick. Syrupy. Sweet.

Nothing seemed to improve during their sessions. It was always one fit after another. No change. No spiral. This crybaby was the only constant for Chisaki. His patients came and went, conditions manageable. But this little crybaby of a woman was expected every Friday at 4. Punctuality was her only redeeming quality. There was something pleasant in appreciating Chisaki's time. 'Considerate' was the word.

She stopped crying as the clock struck 6. 'Like clockwork.' Truthfully, Chisaki believed the woman allowed herself this insecurity. The two hours with him were cathartic. He circles the word in his notes. His canary eyes were glued to her file now. The woman's face was bland and uninteresting. 'You look so plain like this.' A scowl returned to Chisaki's lips.

"Thank you, Dr. Chisaki," the woman beamed. She often pretended as if she hadn't wept. As if Chisaki were paying her a kindness. It enraged him; she was scum. Her position was beneath him. Her eyes wouldn't leave him. Glossy and wrinkled in a grin.

'Sickening.'

Chisaki suppressed a shiver, "I appreciate our talks," his lips twist into a smile, "Drive home safely." He always emphasized the talking. Her trembling lips and heavy voice were erotic in a way. Chisaki wondered what her tears tasted like. He envisioned himself atop her; fingers exploring her pussy, tongue lapping at her tears.

He watched the woman leave. Golden orbs trained on her back. She took her time leaving; punishment for watching her cry. Chisaki’s cheeks grew hot. It was nauseating to think of bending her over the fine leather. Chisaki was convinced she’d be obedient, her ass waiting in the air.

‘You’d be a soaking little crybaby, wouldn’t you?’

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

His evening began with ritual. Chisaki slipped off his slacks, opting to keep his sweater on. He felt less dirty that way. His cock sprung from his boxer briefs. Heavy and veiny. Chisaki rubbed the tip before spitting on it. He rubbed the spit in, thinking of her. Drooling and sobbing on his cock. Chisaki wanted to rob her of oxygen, ‘Her face must be so cute when she chokes.’ The thought hit Chisaki as he stroked his length. He grunted, palm pumping his cock. His other hand cradled his balls, softly kneading. Orgasms felt so dirty. Unnatural. Viscous cum shot into the pillowy deepness of a tissue.

He looked at it and groaned. Tossing the tissue away, Chisaki started preparation.

The hum of a computer filled his bedroom. It was ancient, but Chisaki wasn’t picky. Besides, the rudimentary technology only served one purpose. This was Chisaki’s gateway into ‘hysteria and the female orgasm.’ A million and five hundred thousand results. Everything at his fingertips. He observed her enough -- watched her enough to realize what she needed. She needed his latex clad fingers. His cock buried in her seeping core. He’d stretch her, ruin her body for anyone but him. Her cunt was made for him.

Chisaki sat in his underwear. Face focused on an order page. Recently, Chisaki found himself hyper focusing on this fantasy; his little crybaby overstimulated and mewling, begging Chisaki for relief. She’d pray for his cock. He was her only release.

The plan was simple. Allow her to breakdown as usual until he could no longer handle it. Then, he’d offer the woman a glass of water. Claiming that she must be ‘so dehydrated.’ If she refused, Chisaki planned to persist. ‘It’s for my peace of mind, too.’ He could strike her vulunability. Show her someone cared. She was naive and too stupid, so clearly she would lap up his kindness. Insist on drinking every last drop, letting the ‘medication’ take full effect. This necessity was for his sake. Chisaki didn’t want his crybaby too loud.

His mind drifted to her wiggling beneath him, his boot pressed against her cheek. Perhaps he would force her to lick it, if only to remind her of her place.

“Beneath me,” he murmurs as a hand sneaks under his waistline.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

His kit sits comfortably, tucked behind a bookshelf. Chisaki recognized he needed items. Physical means to make his vision into reality. He anticipated she would come into his embrace quietly… but a part of him hoped she’d fight him. Permit him to make an example of her. Chisaki’s chest tightened. The clock ticked slowly, as if chastising Chisaki for his plans. However, he knew she needed this -- needed him.

In his kit sat latex gloves, rope, a scalpel, and an expensive vibrator. The personal massager took some convincing to buy; he hated the idea of a market for these… toys… but it was essential. Her face had to be flushed and sweaty. It was important she knew how inferior she was. Chisaki was doing her an injustice by letting the woman merely exist without him.

A soft beep echoed; the beginning of his plan. Chisaki sat with his legs crossed. Leisurely. Slender fingers atop his notes. The little pile before him was a fraction of his observations. His little crybaby was interesting, to say the least. She was his favorite client. Chisaki was almost embarrassed by the sheer volume of material he kept. His closet was home to clothes and boxes; all filled with parchment. Their margins were adorned in highlight and sticky notes. Chisaki was nothing if not dedicated.

Quiet foot falls marked her arrival. The woman would always stand outside until Chisaki welcomed her in. Even asking permission for her therapist appointment. There was something admirable about it -- something Chisaki had to break.

“Come in,” Chisaki called. His voice carried an airy professionalism. Yellow eyes briefly looked up, but quickly returned to the floor. Chisaki held his lust by memorizing the carpet.

She shuffled in, gently shutting the door behind her. Despite the miserable crybaby mannerisms, the woman was quite polite. ‘Very well trained for a mutt,’ Chisaki mused. Silence was heavy between them; this weeping woman was never consistent with greetings. Somedays, she wouldn’t choke out a ‘hello’ until deep within her misery. Her words obviously muted by her hands. She liked to cradle her face, Chisaki believed it was to stimulate intimacy. Something she was clearly lacking.

Settling into a chair, she managed a meek ‘hello’ before salty tears brimmed her eyes. Chisaki snuck a glance; she looked in pain. Her bottom lip stuck between teeth. The woman nibbled at the flesh. Anything to alleviate her sadness. The sharp pain was a perfect anchor.

‘I won’t cry. I won’t cry in front of him today.’ She was going to will herself to hold back tears and actually talk. It was kind enough of Dr. Chisaki to let her openly bawl. In all honesty, the woman hated herself for it. At this point, she was only paying him to watch. The poor man was probably too shy -- too professional to ask her to quit. She was abusing his altruism. The woman bit back a shiver, puffing out her chest. Swallowing sadness.

Chisaki looked up. Silence between them this early was… "Are you okay?" Her name comes out like a melody. Something he wants to say forever. Chisaki gripped his clipboard. He needed to ground himself. Find haven in reality.

She stares back, "I come here bec--"

"Don't say it," he murmured. Hand resting comfortably on her thigh. There was an obvious barrier; her leggings. Plush. Almost like her pillowy thighs. Chisaki groped at the plump flesh; "You're so soft." His fingers wander to pinch, "It's disgusting."

The woman remained quiet. Debating with his hand creeping toward her thigh felt dangerous. Dr. Chisaki made her feel dirty; lewd, maybe? She wasn’t sure. The heat in her core was becoming overwhelming. Her mouth moved to speak, but nothing fell out. Empty.

“Silent now, are we? What happened to your big speech? Tell me about how you’re feeling… right now.” His words were a command. No trace of a request. Chisaki needed to hear her quake; wiggle against his clothed bulge.

Saliva pooled in her mouth. Anxiety, anxiety, anxiety.

“I want to go home,” She blubbered, voice strained and whining. Her vision was blurry at best. Everything was splotchy. Dr. Chisaki was an imposing shape of purple and black. She knew he wore a tie; simple deep purple. Shirt. His shirt is black. It takes her a moment to compose thoughts. His hand and her only time to weep were overstimulating.

Chisaki continued his assault, fingers violently rubbing at her covered slit. He wanted to see a tear before the gloves. Before her examination. His cock pulsated at the thought. Latex in her mouth, stuffing her with the cure his cock. A shock -- an orgasm (even this word was perverse to Chisaki) would dislodge any feverishness. Dissipation. Her cries for him.

“You’re crying,” Chisaki commented; hand slow against her crotch, “Little crybaby.”

The woman muffled a sob and instead bit her lip. Blood bloomed in the corner of her smile. The doctor was a curse. This was illegal. He shouldn’t be touching her like this.

He sighed.

“Nothing just as I suspected.”

“This... “ A heave interjects, “This is my time. I can’t express myself like this.” She motions to her tears. Honestly, the woman was high-strung. Revealing herself -- taking off a mask -- was cathartic. Liberation in its purest form.

He pursed his lips and harshly removed his hand. The auburn haired man stood up; crossing the room to a benign black bag. Chisaki rooted around for his gloves. Latex, white, a barrier between them. Chisaki wanted to touch her briefly -- skin to skin was important. Necessary. Something unavoidable.

A snap resounded through the room. Loud. Interrupting. Chisaki wanted to be heard. He wanted her to gawk; eyes glued to him.

Her face erupted into confusion. Fear nestled into her veins. Too cold, too much. "What is..?" The woman's voice is quiet and still muffled from tears.

'This is the cutest you've looked, isn't it?' Chisaki thought of pinching her cheeks, examining the damage. His pants constricted. It was a kindness to teach this wrenched woman her place.

"Keep talking. This is a part of your therapy," Chisaki stated plainly. He rummaged in the bag further, producing something thin and shiny; metallic caught in the fluorescence. Uncomfortable by the sight, the woman shifted her gaze to his feet. His choice of footwear was odd. Polished, tar black boots. His footfalls were anything but quiet. Roaring. Really, she found it intimidating.

“Please…” She didn’t know why she begged like this. Dr. Chisaki wasn’t supposed to be this cruel. He was a therapist -- her therapist. He seemed so balanced before. Normal. And yet the man before her stood with molten eyes and a scalpel.

Slowly, the auburn haired man strode toward her. As if he were a lion savoring his meal. Inspection for prime dread. “Don’t be stupid and move. It’d be a shame if I,” Chisaki paues to taste the words, “hurt you.” Like any greedy man, Chiaski expected resistance.

But like a good little doe, she stares into the scalpel. ‘So moronic shiny things distract you.’ In a way, he found it enduring. She was so pathetic, so useless without his sympathetic ear. Functioning without him must be a chore; he was her sanctuary.

He stops in front of her, boot tapping against wood. “I think it’s beneficial you learn your place, don’t you? Society must be so pressuring for you. As your licensed healthcare professional, it’s my business.”

The woman gathered remaining courage.

“I’ll call the police.” Before her threat was tangible, Chisaki grabbed her wrists. They fit perfectly in one gloved hand.

“Stop being such a little crybaby bitch.” Cool metal touches her cheek. A warning from Dr. Chisaki.

A shiver overtook her spine. The scalpel was new, shiny, and sharp. He could slice into her face right now, nothing was truly stopping him. Anxiety bubbled in her mind. This man was dangerous. Maybe, maybe monstrous. He listened to her, let her reveal such an intimate part, only to turn on her trust. Betrayal in the worst form.

The woman doesn’t respond.

“Get on all fours,” Chisaki commanded. He punctuated his sentence with a shove. “You’re such a pig bitch, you know that right? It’s sad you think anyone would listen to you sob.”

Her eyes grew into shock. With trembling hands, the woman gets on her knees. Her palms were flat atop spotless wood. Dr. Chisaki was quirky like that. If anything, she admired him for it. He seemed so disciplined. ‘All lies,’ she thinks, melancholy stuck in her eyes. Her heart practically ached. Ached for herself, ached for him.

His lips curled into a smirk. Eyes genuinely wrinkled. Finally, this succubus learned. A jolt of excitement shot through his cock; the member twitching.

“Kiss my boots.”

She blinked at his demand. Her mind had to catch up. She needed to absorb the sentence. Should she resist, kick him, and take off? Could she? Her mind swirled with violent images. Large hands wrapped around her throat. His naked body sweaty against hers.

The woman decided to comply. Chisaki watched in anticipation as her lips made contact with glossy leather. Staying up to wax them was worth it for this. Every fantasy was drab compared to her. She was meek; placing light kisses. Her lips ghosted and left little spit puddles in her wake. Chisaki felt a certain hotness in his stomach. The act was so disgusting, and yet, Chisaki was grinding his bulge into his palm.

Suddenly, the woman stopped and looked up at her confidant. “Can I -- please -- can I leave now?”

Chisaki frowns. She doesn’t sound broken enough. ‘Fixed enough,’ he corrects. ‘She needs to be fixed. Cured.’

“Did I say you could stop?” The auburn man sneered. He stomped his boot, his patient mask falling. “Keep kissing them. Slobber on them, little pig. Show me how worthless you are.”

Her tongue whirled around, saliva dotting his boots. She sounded flustered. Huffs and soft squirming. “How are you feeling? You seem to be enjoying it.”

Without meeting his predatory gaze, she whimpered in between sloppy kisses, “I -- I love this so much, Dr. Chisaki.” Such an obedient crybaby.

“We know each other enough for Kai, you know that.”

Eager yellow eyes watched. Excitement lit up inside his veins. Hot and unable to reject.

Being complacent was her only means of survival now. She stopped, doe eyes boring into him.

Drool trailed from her lips, joined with his boot. “Kai, can I?” Her warm hand removed his and rubbed his crotch. Delicate fingers feeling his length, massaging girth and veins. A vibrating, rough groan escaped Chisaki. Something deep. Something feral. It was a sound the woman couldn’t fathom.

And yet, she felt a tingle between her thighs.

Chisaki stroked her face. Squishy and tear-stained; she should be embarrassed. How humiliating must it be to grovel and sob? It was pitiful in a way. Broken. Pathetic. “Let me see how much you want my cock, like the filthy pig you are. So greedy.”

In response to his harsh words, the woman graciously unbuckled his sleek belt, and quickly unbuttoned his slacks. His cock was constrained underneath boxer-briefs. The cut showed off his calves, toned and lean. Being this close to Chisaki reminded her how big he was -- he towered over her.

She fumbled with the hem of his underwear. Unsure if he wanted her hand or her mouth.

Noticing her confusion, Chisaki brought a gloved finger to her lips, “Suck.”

The woman shook while she tugged down Chisaki’s boxer-briefs. His cock -- slick with pre-cum -- sprung from their cloth prison. She winced at his size; he would spear her. Shoving away lewd images, she gently stroked him. An experimental touch before she took him into her mouth. His cock was heavy in her mouth. The girth of Chisaki made her cheeks puff. Gently, she tried to work his cock to the back of her throat. His bulbous tip made her gag, a sensation that had Chisaki instinctively forcing his cock down her esophagus. Her walls contracted around him. In a panic, the woman tried to shove him away. The action was futile, which left her with one option: digging her nails into him. Piercing his thighs to get him to stop.

“Don’t be so rough, piglette.” Chisaki tugged at her hair until she winced, an audible squeal was muffled by his violent thrusting. Spit dribbled down her chin, landing on her chest. Her face was awash with crimson, discomfort in her features. Chisaki took her in like fine wine. Delicious and sweet.

Her wet tongue tangled with his cock, exploring every inch of him. Hot breath pistoned from her nose. Her nails were still pricking him. Pain mixed with pleasure, until the hot bundle within his stomach felt as if it might explode. Salty pre-cum flooded her mouth; the taste resulting in a sour face. Chisaki knew he’d cum if she didn’t stop.

Chisaki pushed the woman away. Surprised and caught off guard, she lost balance, slamming her palms on the floor.

Chisaki stepped out of his clothes and crouched down. The auburn man decided to instead examine her face, and allow his fingers free-range over her delicate body.

“Stay still,” Chisaki advised, his fingers manipulating the doughy flesh of her breast. She was as soft as he imagined. He could easily bruise her; give her marks that screamed, ‘you belong to Kai Chisaki.’ But he resisted. “Take off your blouse -- slowly -- and tell me how sad and pathetic you truly are.”

“I’m… I’m so sad all the time. I just have this -- oh god -- I have this deep sadness and it feels suffocating, Kai. It’s pathetic. I’m pathetic.”

Her body stiffened at his request. The words were too harsh. Too rough. She lifted up her shirt and tossed it behind her. She looked away as Chisaki’s monstrous gaze transversed her chest.

“The bra too, piggie.”

Taking off her bra added another layer of awkwardness. This wasn’t the first time a man saw her like this -- exposed and sweaty… but his hungry eyes sent chills through her. An electricity of unease.

Cruel hands fondled her breasts. His fingers were faint over her nipples. She leaned into his touch, back arched. Barely audible mewls flew from her lips. Her body betrayed her. It was degrading. She should already be out the door and dialing the police. But no, her body craved him. ‘A compliant little pig.’ Chisaki hands wandered to her hip and played with the edge of her skirt. His motions were playful. This side of him was tolerable. Chisaki was like a school boy; bashful and nervous.

“Now, how are you feeling?” Chisaki asked. His tone was condescending; he wasn’t asking out of benign professionalism, but hateful interest.

Her mouth opens and then closes. Unable to compose a response, the woman simply places a hand over his.

Slapping her thigh, Chisaki chides her, “Speak, pig. Use your idotic words and tell sir how you feel.”

She gulps.

“I feel sick. This is shameful, s-sir.” The lewd title causes her blush to deepen. Cheeks flush with embarrassment and delight. Chisaki saw his treatment was finally starting to take hold.

Chisaki snakes a hand under her skirt, massaging her slit once more. Her arousal was still there, clinging wet panties to her cunt. The woman bit her lip trying to stifle groans. The mixture of his fingers on her breast and between her thighs was almost too much. Sweat gathered at her brow as Chisaki slipped a finger into her soaking core. His slender finger pistoned in and out; snapping against her lips. The auburn man had a lack of mercy, his mouth clasped over her neck. Hot mouth sucking at tender flesh. His tongue circled around the abused patch of skin, desperate to savor her.

The room was an ensemble of depravity; their moans mixed with the squelch of her pussy. She bucked into his digit, her body hurting for the stimulation. Heat built in her stomach, like a balloon filled with fire. The sensation continued to expand until it peaked; a high pitched squeal marking her orgasm.

There was a popping sound and then, “So excited you cum already, pitiful, and I was hoping you’d squirm more. You want my cock, don’t you?” His finger leaves her cunt. Spongy walls now empty and wanting.

She nodded, too ashamed and drunk on her own high to function.

Unsatisfied by her response, Chisaki grabbed her face. Her rosy cheeks squished in his grip. Chisaki realized she was cute like this. A little puffy fish.

“You’re being such an annoying pig. My patience is growing thin. Tell me. Tell me you want my cock.” His sentence stumbled from him, in between heavy breaths.

The woman buried her face in his chest, “Please fuck me, Kai. I need it -- please, please, please.” She broke out into a series of pleas mixed with crying. Her body was still numb, still too high to really anticipate more. Overstimulated and teary eyed.

“On your back,” Chisaki breathed, his face slightly flushed. He maneuvered her bare body and spread her legs around his wiry waist. Her knees hooked at an angle, like a spider.

Chisaki lined himself up with her tender, violated hole. “You’re so fucking insignificant.” His first thrust was hard and without warning. She gasped and placed her palms on his chest. Carnivorous, gold eyes looked down at her, mouth open and panting. His hips snapped against the back of her thigh. The sound was sharp against their perverse moans. A chorus of vulgarity. His girth made her cunt ache, sensitive walls stretched and full. “Do -- do you know how miserable you make me, little crybaby?” Forming sentences was hard. Chisaki’s cock was sucked in by her cunt; stuck in a death grip. ‘Gonna milk me for every bit of cum, aren’t you, piggie?’

Her hands roamed his chest. His relentless pumping was too much. She needed to grab something. To ground herself back into reality and not a cum induced daze. His veins added texture. Something so stimulating the woman found herself atop another peak. Ready to descend. However, Chisaki hadn’t quite reached nirvana. The cool air desensitized him. The heat of her pussy was like a shock.

“Focus on me.” His raspy voice brought her back into the moment. Squishy body jiggling from the force of Chisaki. Lidded eyes rolled over to gawk at Chisaki. Blissed out. “Honestly, your little crybaby face is cute like this, piggie.” A light slap smacked against her cheek, as if to further compliment her.

Chisaki’s rutted into her sloppy cunt until the hot brand in his stomach exploded; a deep groan vibrated from his chest as cum squirted into her cunt. He milked each thrust, until his balls lazily slapped against her. Tears streaked her face. Eyes glazed over with ecstasy. He grabbed her face once more. A close up look of the damage, “You did so well for a stupid little crybaby.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #yandere bnha #smut #bnha

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alternateafterthought · 4 years

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Arcane - Part 12

Ø Meaning: Secret, Mysterious, Understood only by few. MAGIC

Ø Pairing: Panther Hybrid Min Yoongi x Reader

Ø Summary: Some secrets are kept for the good of people. Some secrets are kept for abuse or power. Yoongi had been a victim of abuse and power, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else use secrets for that purpose. So, when Y/N comes into his life with secrets, he doesn’t want to fall into that rabbit hole again. He doesn’t want to give all his trust to someone who will abuse their power over him. But maybe Y/N’s secrets are a good thing.

Ø Genre: Hybrid!au, fluff, angst, eventual smut

Ø Warnings: None

Ø Word Count: 1202

Ø A/N: Hey guys… here is the next part of my Min Yoongi fic!! It’s been quite a while since I last posted anything for Arcane, and I know this part is also quite short, but I have been recently editing GOLDEN TIME and posting it on AO3 and also Wattpad!! It would mean a lot to me if you would check it out, it’s completely edited and I’m adding more story to it!! So, I really hope you guys love and support this fic like you did with GOLDEN TIME!! If you want to be added to a tag list, message me or leave a comment or ask!! I would love and appreciate your feedback!! Thank you so much

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Finally after a day that seemed like it wouldn't end, Y/N arrived home, closing the door and sighing as she leaned back against it. Her eyes closed shut, not much darker then the cold house she walked into, trying to listen out for anything, anyone moving around the house.

Though like last night and the night before that, it was silent, not a whimper, not a whisper.

"Good to be home." Y/N whispered to herself as her body sagged, sitting her bag and coat down right where she kicked off her shoes before walking to the kitchen. "Maybe..." Y/N looked through the fridge at the lacking of edible food sitting before her. "Ordering in, it is."

Taking her hair out and running her nails against her scalp, Y/N moved towards her room, stopping in front of Yoongi's door. Under the door, Y/N could see movement against the light that was on in the room, Y/N just thankful that Yoongi was still present.

Knocking three times, Y/N went through a normal routine they had; "I'm home, Yoongi. I'm going to order some food, would you like anything?" Y/N waited a few heartbeats before speaking again. "Okay, I'll order now."

Y/N walked to her bedroom, freeing herself of any restricting clothing and into her most comfy pyjamas before walking back to the front door to get her phone. Before she walked away there was a knock at the door, confused she looked through the small window beside the door to see a delivery man standing there. Opening the door, thinking they might have had the wrong house, Y/N was prepared to turn them away.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" They asked, looking up at Y/N expectedly, who just nodded before they offered a bag of food. "Enjoy."

"Um... thank you." Y/N smiled a little before they were walking away.

Y/N took a step back and closed the door, completely confused at the bag of food in her hands until she turned around.

"Oh my god, Yoongi, you scared me." Y/N stared wide eyed at the hybrid in front of her, hair a mess, bags under his eyes, and yet still standing in front of her.

"Well are you coming?" Yoongi spoke the first words to Y/N in days. "I'm hungry."

The hot bag of food pressed against Y/N's chest was starting to burn, but the confusion of what stood in front of her weighed more. Following dumbly behind the hybrid, Y/N stopped a little short from the kitchen, watching as Yoongi took out plates, going to set the table. Y/N really didn't know what to do, she just stood and watched him, not wanting to make any sudden movement to upset him.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Yoongi asked over his shoulder as he sat at the table in his normal seat.

"Right, yeah... sorry." Y/N moved quickly over towards the table, finally sitting the hot food down and sitting herself.

Y/N sat, quietly as Yoongi served them both food, eating the food and looking up every now and then at the panther hybrid across from her. He never said anything, only focused completely on eating, his eyes never even leaving his plate. It was awkward, or maybe it was just Y/N who didn't know what to do or say to the hybrid across from her.

Did she apologies? Did she make small talk? Excuse herself and give him freedom?

Y/N was about to make some excuse to leave the table, to leave Yoongi in peace after she finally saw that he was eating but he stopped her; "So, when am I leaving?"

"What?" Y/N asked, spoon halfway to her mouth.

"When do I leave?" Yoongi asked again, still not looking up t Y/N. "When are you taking me back? I can't satisfy you or your friends. You don't need me here."

"Yoon... Yoongi... I..." Y/N was confused, or completely beyond that.

"I'm sorry I wasn't good for you. I promise I'll leave quietly, I'm already packed. I have left everything you've bought me in it's place." Yoongi continued talking, not have completely heard Y/N stutter. "When did you want to send me back?"

So maybe confused wasn't the correct emotion to feel right now, anger could have been something, maybe a sudden willingness to hunt down his previous owners and make them pay was another thing. That was a good suggestion for Y/N, to hunt down whoever it was to turn such an amazing man, an amazing person, into this shell of a man.

"Yoongi, I'm not going to send you back." Y/N words only caused Yoongi's ears on his head to flicker uncontrollably, she could see the ends of his tail curl around his own waist. "Yoongi, I'm not... I mean... you... okay..." Y/N took a deep breath, trying to calm her emotions. "Would you like to go back?"

That question seemed to be the golden one, it caused Yoongi to look up and at the woman across from him. She was giving him a choice, she was actually allowing him to choose whether he went back or stayed with her. No one had ever given him that choice before, no human had ever given him that choice.

"I'll do whatever you'd want me to." Yoongi said instead of answer.

"No, Yoongi," Y/N missed how Yoongi shivered when she spoke his name. "The choice is yours. If you would like to go back, then you can go back when the boys come to visit tomorrow."

"Their coming?" Yoongi stared wide eyed at Y/N, for the first time in a long time, hope shone.

"They'll be here tomorrow afternoon. If you wish to leave, I'm sure they'll love to have you go back home." Y/N couldn't look at Yoongi now, giving him exactly what he wants, and losing everything she could have. "I'll make arrangements for you, make sure you pack everything, even the stuff you bought while here, it's yours."

Y/N stood from her chair, walking away from a stunned Yoongi still sitting at the table, watching Y/N walk away. She had given him the option and even gave more for the choice he wanted to make, giving him everything he wanted. Yoongi could never quiet understand Y/N, he could never fully grasp what her intentions are with him. Yet, here she was, giving him everything he could ask for when he never asked for a thing, not really asked for but maybe... or she... Yoongi never quiet knew what it was that Y/N was doing for him, and maybe, maybe he wasn't strong enough to ask what she ever gained from him being here.

She would never allow Yoongi to hear her, not the way she completely broke down as soon as her door was closed. The cry that raked through Y/N's body came suddenly and loudly, a little too loudly before she tried to silence her cries. Moving through her room, Y/N ended up in the place she always ended up when everything got too much, when everything felt like it was moving in on her. Stuffing herself into the bottom on the wardrobe, Y/N cried and cried, not realizing that the hybrid in the kitchen could hear every heartbreaking moment.

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misplacedgamer · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 322 Theory-Reverse Kamino

Ok, so I know we’ve all had our fun this week with bi!Mineta and crying over Tenya and “I have so much I need to say to him”, but the next chapter will be here in 24 hours and it’s time to shift back into theorist mode while I still have the chance. So here it is, my big take on what’s going to happen in chapter 322, also known as the “Reverse Kamino” theory (under read more because I wrote a novel)

Starting simple, I don’t think Horikoshi is quite done with the angst just yet. Chapter 321 was a huge emotional catharsis chapter, that’s to be sure, but it ends on a weirdly somber and abrupt note. While we do see Tenya initially grab hold of Deku’s hand, we don’t actually see Deku gripping his hand back before the chapter ends, which would have been an easy thing to do if this was meant to be the last bit of angst before Deku goes home, ESPECIALLY since Horikoshi loves drawing hands. The other thing to notice is Deku’s face in the panel that closes the chapter.

If you wanted to go for the emotional gut punch, you’d end with the panel of Deku crying, because it's so good and cathartic and resonates so well with what happened in the Stain arc between Tenya and Deku. That’s the panel you end on if you want to close the chapter on an optimistic note. But instead, there’s an extra little panel of Deku that’s extremely foreboding. Deku himself is completely in shadow (contrasting the panel above), and the panel is zoomed out just enough that you can’t see his pupils at all. It’s the same face he was making in the crying panel, but now with his open mouth and his eyes whited out, it looks less cathartic and more like Deku’s frozen in terror.

Let’s also notice the ominous sound effect that takes up a third of the panel. Apparently it translates as a “fwip” sound. I’m not sure what that could be (unfortunately I don’t have every onomatopoeia memorized for this series just yet), but it indicates that something else is happening here. The blurb at the bottom also indicates that Deku’s next actions in the coming chapter are unclear. It could just be hype text, but I think if the angst was over ending the chapter with “Class 1-A has finally reached him!” would have been hype enough.

So what’s going on here?

Well, remember that this whole chapter (and really this whole fight in Kamino) have been paralleling two arcs: the Stain arc and the Kamino Ward Rescue arc. The Stain parallels really only became obvious in this chapter (which really should have been more obvious, Stain was even in a previous chapter watching Deku destroy himself), but I think the payoff for that parallel also happened in this chapter. Tenya finally got to repay the debt he owed Deku for saving his life after he tried to fight Stain; he got to at least try to bring him back from the brink before Deku completely lost himself to his goals. I wish I had noticed it sooner, but it's over and done with (probably, who even knows at this point).

What I’m more interested in are the parallels to the Bakugo Rescue at Kamino. Not only did we get the ice ramp making a return, but we also got a parallel between Bakugo and Deku when they made the plan for the rescue. Both had a lot of personal investment in making sure the other one was rescued, but both were also aware that they weren’t the right person to make the saving throw, and put their own personal feelings aside, choosing one of the other person’s closest friends to make the save instead. I don’t want to get too bogged down in all the parallels here though, because that’s not the point of this post. What I am saying is that there’s a couple of elements missing here:

The initial kidnapping, and AFO

AFO was a huge part of the Kamino rescue arc. It was the first time we really got to see what he can do, the kids had to rescue Bakugo to get him away from AFO (and Shigaraki), and this arc also featured the wiping out of All Might’s power completely. I find it highly unlikely that we would get references to Kamino Ward without seeing AFO at least once. We also did not get a kidnapping prior to this arc taking place. I know Deku leaving UA narratively serves the same purpose as Bakugo getting kidnapped, but I choose to think there’s something else going on. Which dovetails into...the Reverse Kamino Theory

It is very obvious that Horikoshi loves Star Wars, and one of the most memed on quotes from Star Wars is a quote from George Lucas saying that the prequels will be “like poetry”

So if we have not seen AFO yet, and there hasn’t been a kidnapping, I think Horikoshi is priming us for a kidnapping at the end of this arc. We know AFO has been toying with Deku this whole time, and it would be a perfect opportunity to swoop in and grab him after he’s completely exhausted himself trying to escape all his friends. Also remember that AFO has a teleportation quirk that can be targeted specifically to who he wants to teleport. The ominous sound effect could be the teleporting black goop that the LoV coughed up the last time we were at Kamino.

And then we could get another parallel of Bakugo trying to race and catch Deku before he gets stolen away and I’ll have to cry forever again. I could also see Bakugo actually reaching Deku this time, but I don’t think we’ll get the conclusion of the hand holding arc so close to Bakugo denying himself the opportunity. Besides, boy need to learn to say the things he means when he actually has the chance (he was right there Bakugo!).

So yeah, lock me in for Reverse Kamino next chapter. AFO is gonna show up and kidnap the boy, and I guess Bakugo or Shoto will have to be our protagonist until they get him back. All aboard the angst train everyone!

Btw, if anyone would like meta comparing the back half of the Villain Hunt arc to either the Stain arc or the Bakugo Rescue please let me know!

#bnha spoilers #bnha 322 #bnha meta #bnha analysis #bnha theory #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #deku midoriya #time to shift into 322 mode #ALL ABOARD THE HYPE TRAIN

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hurricanery · 4 years

Text

handmade - pt. 2

A/N: I’ve been getting messages about this one and wanted to write a (fluffier than the previous part) sequel. And I think I might have actually managed some fluff without accidentally making it too dark and twisty?? But anyway, this is based on this prompt requesting Maggmelia be thrown in a bit. And it’s also partly inspired by this post by @amelia-ladychief-shepherd.

You can read part 1 here.

_______

legions upon legions of craftsmen

handmade my feelings

_______

It takes about a week for Scout’s true sleeping pattern to reveal itself. Amelia thinks back to the first night home, probably the last night she actually got a full night of sleep, and her whole being aches for the way Scout had slept soundly. Uninterrupted. He’d barely stirred. Amelia thinks back to that first night, and can’t hold back the delirious laughter that escapes her mouth. Her eyes glaze over as she rests her head back against the headboard of their bed. And she listens to the slight creak of the floorboards from the hallway, where Link currently walks back and forth, rocking their newborn gently in his arms.

Link crosses the threshold back into the bedroom, and Amelia raises her eyebrows at him in question.

Was this it?

Had he finally fallen back to sleep?

The relieved look on Link’s face is all the answer she needs. And there’s momentary bliss.

Until Link’s expression dwindles, his eyes widen in panic as he trips over a sneaker on the floor. He staggers forward slightly, but catches himself, straightening up right away. Amelia gasps, and holds eye contact with Link, until Link’s gaze shifts downwards to Scout in his arms. To survey the potential harsh awakening. The aftermath of the almost disruption.

But relief floods his face once again. And Amelia exhales, keeping her eyes on Link as he crosses the room towards the bassinet and carefully puts Scout back down.

He collapses onto his side of the bed a moment later, and turns over to face Amelia. He has to strain his neck to look up at her, as she’s still sitting upright.

“Why didn’t you sleep during my shift?”

My shift.

Amelia chuckles under her breath. They’ve really been taking shifts each time Scout wakes up. It’s their new routine. Because Scout requires constant movement in order to fall asleep. Continuous bouncing. And rocking. And especially walking.

“I couldn’t,” she mumbles. “Too much movement going on in the hall.”

Link pouts apologetically at this information.

“I don’t know what happened to me,” she continues in a whispered tone, shifting down to get fully under the covers again. “I used to be such a heavy sleeper. But now? Even the slightest creak of the floorboards and I’m on high alert.”

“Hm,” Link grumbles. And Amelia watches how quickly his eyes slip shut. She listens to how quickly sleep takes over his voice, too. “We should….sleep now….before….”

She thinks she witnesses the exact moment he falls asleep. And she tries not to feel jealous of his ability to slip into unconsciousness so easily.

She snuggles closer to him. Because she needs to. And she tries to brush off the idea that along with the slight change in Scout’s sleeping habits, her own hormones were changing, too. Her previous impatience, and even resentment towards Link, had slowly been shifting throughout the week. And suddenly, all she was craving was human touch. The same way Scout craved constant movement.

And Link puts up with it all, even in sleep. He subconsciously adjusts himself as he senses Amelia’s closeness, allowing her to nuzzle into his chest. And Amelia smiles to herself, finally willing sleep to take her.

It takes all of five minutes for it to start. For the tiny whimpers to fill the room. The soft whines from Scout that will undoubtedly turn into full blown wailing if someone doesn’t get to him fast enough.

Amelia’s eyes shoot open, and she regrettably pulls herself from Link’s warmth. Link barely stirs. And Amelia gets up to cross the room. “My turn,” she mutters.

_______

The following day, Amelia practically jolts awake. It almost feels like all she’s managed is a blink, and suddenly it’s morning again. It’s disorienting, and at the same time it’s frustrating. The complete lack of sleep.

What’s more confusing to her though, besides the rapid shift from night to day, is the fact that she’s woken up in an empty room. She quickly sits up in bed, eyes shifting around the room as she takes in the vacant spot next to her. When she swings her feet over the bed and stands up, she observes that Scout’s bassinet is equally empty.

She frowns to herself as she pulls a sweatshirt on, and slides her bare feet into her slippers. Scout’s basically been her alarm clock all week. She hasn’t woken up on her own accord in days. Scout’s cries in the early morning have completely grown to serve that purpose. Amelia realizes that that’s what’s most disorienting about this particular morning. The fact that she’s woken up naturally.

When she exits the bedroom and enters out into the hallway, her confusion grows. She hears voices from the first floor and she follows the sound. She stifles a huge yawn as she reaches the bottom of the stairs and rounds the corner into the living room.

“Well, good morning,” Link enters the living room from the opposite entrance, the one attached to the kitchen, at the same time that she enters from the hallway. He sets a steaming mug down onto the coffee table and looks at Amelia expectantly.

“Where’s Scout?!” She questions, an alarmed edge to her voice.

And then she hears Maggie’s laugh from the kitchen, along with another voice, and comprehension begins to dawn on her.

Amelia continues towards the kitchen, and when she reaches the doorway, she pauses, a huge smile taking over her expression. Winston stands at the stove, doing his best to flip the pancakes in the skillet. Maggie stands slightly off to the side, rocking Scout back and forth in her arms. She’s laughing at the same time as she’s chastising Winston for his lack of skill in the pancake-flipping department.

She leans against the doorframe and watches the interaction in amusement, until Maggie finally notices her presence.

“Oh, hey!” Maggie exclaims in a hushed tone, conscious of the newborn in her arms. She steps towards Amelia, and Amelia crosses the threshold to meet her.

“I didn’t know you were up,” she continues, as Amelia walks forward and smiles down at Scout’s wide-eyed and curious expression. Maggie begins shifting Scout a bit in her arms. “Here, you probably….did you want to take him?”

Amelia’s overcome with another huge yawn and Maggie quirks and eyebrow at her, subconsciously pulling Scout closer into her own chest.

“You were supposed to sleep in this morning, Amelia,” she turns around to glance at the clock on the stove. “Link practically had to sneak down here to make sure of that.”

“It’s okay,” Amelia shakes her head. “I can take him.”

She steps forward at the same time that Maggie steps back.

“Wait,” Maggie chuckles. “We’re making breakfast. Let me hold onto him while you at least eat. And maybe have some coffee?”

Amelia squints, thinking about it, but eventually nods gratefully at the offer. Link enters the kitchen then, placing his hands gently on Amelia’s shoulders.

“I’ll make you a plate,” he squeezes her shoulders, just before he moves past her.

Amelia’s hands drop to her sides, and she’s dumbfounded for a moment. Taken aback by this level of support. She bites her lip, empty handed. And her eyes shift around the kitchen. Winston stacks pancakes onto each of the plates in Link’s hands. And Maggie bounces gently back and forth next to her, rubbing a finger against Scout’s pudgy cheek.

She smiles as she takes it in. The entirety of the moment. And she decides to go ahead and make herself some coffee.

_______

“How are your pancakes?” Link turns to her, to where she’s resting against the opposite end of the couch. He reaches forward to set his empty plate onto the coffee table. When he settles back against the couch cushions, his hands come to rest against her shins, giving them a squeeze. He starts to massage his way down to her feet as they rest in his lap.

“Good,” she mutters around a mouthful, and Link smiles at her, before focusing solely on his massage technique.

Amelia groans, shifting her back further down the couch and setting her own plate down onto the table next to them.

“You should finish your food,” Link remarks, continuing with the foot rub.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to fall asleep,” she mutters in response, dismissing his comment about the food. She completely relaxes into the cushions and into the massage.

“Well then, I’m not stopping.”

She stares up at him, a blank expression on her face.

“You were supposed to sleep in, anyway.”

Amelia shifts her eyes to the kitchen, and she watches for a moment, the way that Maggie and Winston move around the room. Scout is still wide awake. She can tell by the way Maggie bounces around with him, talking to him in a gentle voice. Winston finishes drying the dishes, and he turns to Maggie, gazing at her. While Amelia gazes at them. And then it almost becomes too much for Amelia. The adoring look that passes over Winston’s face, and the way that Maggie is completely oblivious to it.

“Amelia,” Link mutters her name and she quickly snaps out of her stare. She can feel the sudden glassiness in her eyes as she looks back to Link. “Amelia….are you….crying?”

“No,” she mutters defensively. “I don’t know.”

Link stifles a laugh. And Amelia has to refrain from lifting her heel from his lap and kicking it back down harshly against his thigh. She suppresses the urge though, and tries to make sense of her feelings.

“I think you definitely need some uninterrupted sleep,” Link chuckles under his breath.

Amelia rolls her eyes. But nods in agreement. Link halts his hands, letting them come to a rest at her ankles, and Amelia stares tiredly at him. Before she decides. Before she gives in.

Then she’s moving. She’s shifting her body around so that her head rests in his lap instead. She curls up on her side, which allows for her line of sight to still be to the kitchen. Amelia breathes an exhale through her nose as a smile creeps onto her face. She observes as Maggie instructs Winston to sit on one of the kitchen chairs, and Winston opens his arms hesitantly. Maggie transfers Scout over into his arms gracefully, and then she stands up straight. She places a hand on his shoulder, as if she’s trying to get him to relax into the position a bit.

“They’re cute together,” Link mumbles. Amelia can feel his fingers start to run through her hair and she sighs.

“Mhm.”

She lets her eyes rest momentarily. And she focuses on the pattern of Link’s fingers as he gently untangles some of the knots in her hair.

She’s so relaxed, she can’t tell how much time has passed when she feels Link’s phone buzz in his pocket. The proximity of the sudden vibration to her eardrum almost threatens her blissful moment. Almost.

She manages to keep her eyes closed despite Link’s movement. He shifts slightly to reach into his pocket for his phone, and Amelia grasps desperately to hold onto her restful state.

But then the feeling of his fingers in her hair stops. And that’s her first inclination.

She blinks her eyes open and stares ahead. Because she knows what’s coming. They’ve been talking around it all week. Avoiding it.

Link sighs.

And she knows.

“You still have to go, don’t you?”

It probably wasn’t worth it. All of the talking around it. And avoiding. Because it’s no longer avoidable. The fact that Link is scheduled to go out of town for the weekend. The surgery he’s supposed to travel to San Diego for, it’s been planned for weeks. And Scout was born a little bit early. Which wasn’t a part of the plan. But they’ve been avoiding the discussion. The reality of the situation. Because every time she thinks about it, she panics. And she gets all spinny-outy, at the thought of being on her own with Scout for the first time.

But avoidance is never a good coping mechanism for Amelia. So, they’ve been trying new tactics. New ways to deal with the hard stuff. Most of the time, it’s letting Amelia talk everything out until she accepts what she’s feeling. And most of the time, it also ends in a ‘gravity blanket’ situation, or some other form of physical closeness.

In this particular instance though, they’ve not gotten so far. They’ve yet to reach the healthy discussion part.

“I, uh….it looks like I managed to make it a one-night thing, instead of the whole weekend,” Link finally answers her.

It takes a minute for Amelia to process this.

She can feel him start to play with her hair again, this time just flimsily toying with her ends. She shifts, her hair falling from his grasp, and she rolls over so that she’s laying on her back. She looks up at him.

“You’re better at getting him to sleep than I am.”

“That’s not true, Amelia.” His face falls completely at the tone of her voice.

“It is. You’re….you’re very good at encouraging sleep.” She smiles a bit at this. “I swear, you have a very comforting presence. Puts people right to sleep....” She tries to sound sarcastic at her own words, but she’s not even fooling herself.

“It’s just one night,” he whispers. And she nods. And then they’re both interrupted by the sound of their son’s cries.

Amelia immediately sits up, springing into action.

“That’s his hungry cry,” she mutters, using a hand on Link’s knee to push herself up from the couch.

She meets Maggie halfway to the kitchen and Maggie passes off the crying newborn.

She then turns towards the stairs, glancing briefly in Link’s direction. “I’m going to go feed him upstairs. He’ll probably go right down after.”

_______

By the time the weekend comes, they both start to get less stressed about the trip. Partly because when necessary, they talk openly about their anxieties. But in all honesty, it’s mostly because of their gravity blanket routine.

Every night, after they get Scout to sleep, like clockwork. They settle themselves on the floor. And to much of Amelia’s delight, since her pregnancy is no longer an obstacle, she’s now able to be on the receiving end of this scenario.

The night before Link leaves, it’s a quieter routine. It’s safe, but it’s hushed. Conversation is slight. Which is fine. There’s not much left to talk about, since it’s already been talked all the way through.

“We should….”

“Sleep now while we can?” She finishes his sentence.

“Mhm,” he hums.

“5 more minutes?”

“Okay,” he agrees.

And then 5 minutes turns into 10. Eventually they go to bed, and eventually it’s morning again. By the time Link leaves the house, Amelia feels prepared, for the most part.

_______

Multitasking is one of her strong suits. It has to be. For her career and life in general. Multitasking is something she’s always strived at. She’s a fast thinker. And she often feels dragged down by those who need a minute to catch up.

So it makes no sense to her. That the level of multitasking thrown at her by motherhood, feels any different. Feels any less possible.

She’s climbing the stairs. And shifting Scout’s weight onto one side of her body. And cursing under her breath at the distinct ringtone of a FaceTime call that chimes from her back pocket.

She reaches for her phone at the same time that she crosses the doorway into the bedroom. And she sounds breathless as she greets the incoming video call.

“Hey!” Link’s cheerful disposition immediately softens when he sees Amelia’s impatient one. “Bad timing?”

“No, no, I, uh,” she props her phone up against the stack of books on her bedside table and sits on the edge of the bed, adjusting Scout in her arms so that she can gently rub his back. “He just usually sleeps right away when he’s fed. Like, sometimes even during, so-”

“He’s wide awake?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, and then tries to make her next words sound more lively. “How’s San Diego? How’d the surgery go?”

“Good, good. I’m hopping on my flight in like….2 hours, so. I’ll see you guys first thing in the morning.”

“I’m sorry,” Amelia mutters. “Red-eyes are the worst. I hope you at least sleep on the plane-”

Scout starts whimpering in her arms.

And Link assures her.

“Oh, I’ll be fine, I can sleep anywhere.”

Amelia starts to stand up, stepping slightly out of frame for the FaceTime call. Scout’s cries start to get louder, and Amelia starts to pace.

It’s like she instantly forgets about the call, as she makes her way towards the hallway. Exposing the fact that multitasking doesn’t transfer over to all areas of her life.

And Link chuckles to himself. But Amelia can’t hear it over the sound of Scout’s cries, or from where she currently walks the length of the hallway.

“Amelia, I’m going to call you back,” he tries, but he’s speaking to an empty room. He stifles another chuckle as he adjusts his own phone, hanging up the call.

_______

“Amelia,” Maggie’s whisper rings through the hallway and Amelia jumps despite the hushed tone. “Sorry. Is everything okay?”

Amelia nods, but struggles with the fussy baby in her arms. “I thought you were at the hospital?”

“I finished early. Link texted me.”

“Link texted you?”

The defensive edge to Amelia’s voice causes Maggie to choose her next words carefully.

“He said….you guys do this in shifts?” Maggie nods towards a whimpering Scout.

And Amelia huffs out a breath as she turns on her heels, keeping with her pattern through the hallway.

“Well,” Maggie adds. “I’m here to help, if you want it.”

“I’m really okay, Maggie. I just….have to keep moving.”

Maggie watches her turn again in her route.

“Do you want tea or anything? I was going to make some for myself.”

Amelia ignores Maggie’s offer, suddenly preoccupied with the volume of Scout’s distress.

“I’m going to make some,” Maggie breathes, turning back towards the stairs.

_______

When Maggie climbs the stairs again about 10 minutes later, Amelia gives her a warning stare. There’s a genuine quietness to the hallway. Scout doesn’t make a sound. And Amelia is now more stationary in her movements.

Maggie has a mug of steaming tea in each hand, and she raises both mugs slightly, as if gesturing that she’s going to go and set them down in the room.

Amelia follows after her a few moments later, when she decides it’s safe to do so. Safe to assume that Scout is finally out for the night.

When she enters the bedroom, a bewildered look crosses her face, and she has to hold herself back from voicing the loud questions that pop into the forefront of her mind. Her brows furrow as she takes in Maggie’s current positioning. Where she’s on her hands and knees on the floor, rummaging underneath the bed.

Amelia holds it together for the time that it takes to put Scout down. But then she turns around, and her tone is laced with confusion when she whispers into the room.

“What are you doing?”

Maggie straightens up instantly, startled by Amelia’s presence. She racks her brain for a minute, for an explanation, before she finally settles on just the truth.

“I, um,” Maggie swallows. And Amelia crosses the room to her bedside table. She reaches for the tea that Maggie had placed there, and offers an incredulous stare as she takes her first sip. “Link texted me.”

“I know.”

“No, yeah. So,” She pulls a package out from under the bed. “He asked me to make sure you had this.”

It’s just an unmarked box. Nothing special. And Amelia’s confusion grows.

“He was saving it for your birthday, I think? But then, I guess, he thought you should have it now.”

Amelia watches as Maggie stands, pulling the actual item out of the nondescript box. And then the actual packaging reveals itself. And Amelia can’t help the grin that spreads across her face, or the warmth that fills her chest.

It’s a weighted blanket.

She breathes out a sigh, and feels a stinging sensation in her eyes.

“It’s a weighted blanket?” Maggie adds, trying to gauge Amelia’s reaction.

“I can see that,” Amelia steps forward, taking the blanket from Maggie. She rips off the packaging and begins to unfold it. She lifts it around herself, and smiles hugely as she takes in the full weight of it.

“Are you…” Maggie trails off as Amelia circles past her, climbing into the bed. “Oh.”

Maggie chuckles under her breath, bemused, as Amelia relaxes into a comfortable position, adjusting the blanket to cover her completely.

“Do you want me to sit in here? While I finish my tea?” Maggie asks, as she steps around to the other side of the bed.

“Mhm,” comes Amelia’s muffled reply.

Maggie crawls on top of the covers, seating herself against the headboard.

“I don’t get it,” Maggie laughs quietly, as she observes Amelia’s current positioning. “A weighted blanket? Does it not feel suffocating?”

“Hmph, no,” Amelia turns over a bit, her face peeking out more than before. “It’s comforting.”

“You and I are not the same.”

Amelia smiles at this. Completely relieved. Relieved at Scout’s cooperation right now. And relieved with the feeling that the blanket provides. She lets her eyes rest, and keeps them closed as Maggie voices her next question.

“How long til Scout wakes up again?”

“I give it an hour at most,” Amelia groans.

“Let me take a shift, Amelia.”

Amelia shakes her head, eyes still shut. “I need the practice….Link is like….he’s like this calm giant. Scout falls asleep so fast for him. Takes twice as long for me. It’s kind of infuriating.”

Maggie frowns at this.

“I’m sure that’s not-”

“No it is,” Amelia mumbles, sleep evident in her voice. “And that’s okay. He’s asleep now….that’s all that matters….”

Maggie takes her last sip of tea, and decides it’s time to slip out of the room, as discreetly as possible.

But, Amelia listens for every movement. She feels the bed shift with Maggie’s absence, and she hears her cross the room, to her side of the bed. The distinct sound of ceramic against wood fills her ears as Maggie collects her abandoned tea.

She hears the door click shut as Maggie exits the room and her eyes blink open. She turns over in bed, reaching for her phone on the bedside table to check the time. Link still has about an hour until he boards his flight.

She fights off the exhaustion that threatens every part of her being, as she unlocks her phone and opens up FaceTime. And she quickly adjusts the volume to the quietest setting, in time for the outgoing tone to ring out.

“Amelia?” Link's voice whispers out, full of uncertainty. “I can’t see anything, it’s dark.”

“That’s because I’m under my new blanket,” she whispers back. “And also it’s dark in here,” there’s a smile evident in her voice. Link can hear some shuffling around, and then the lamp gets turned on and some light filters through.

“There you are,” he smiles.

“Are you at the airport?”

“Just got here.”

Amelia nods, blinking against her exhaustion.

“Scout’s down?”

“Mhm,” Amelia mumbles. “I just wanted to call you back….and say thank you….for this….”

Her sentence trails off, but the sentiment is there. And Link’s smile widens.

Amelia’s blinks start to last longer, and her eyes remain shut with the last one.

“Amelia?”

He knows she’s fallen asleep. He would recognize the breathing pattern anywhere.

But, he has a hard time hanging up the phone this time around.

It takes all of his power to refrain from just staying on the call and watching her sleep. His thumb hovers over the end button hesitantly. But then his flight number gets called over the speaker system.

His thumb hesitates a moment longer. Wanting to prolong the moment, but also battling the realization that this flight is what stands between them now.

He stares for one more second, and decides it’s okay to whisper out, even if she can’t hear him. It feels like he whispers it to himself, or maybe to the people surrounding him in the airport. But he says it anyway, before he hangs up.

“See you in the morning.”

#amelink #amelink fanfic #amelinkfic #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #amelia x link #maggie pierce #winston ndugu #magston #maggmelia #maggie x amelia #greys anatomy fanfic #greys anatomy fic #grey's anatomy fanfic #grey's anatomy fic #my writing #amelinkfanfiction

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prbni · 4 years

Text

Dramione Headcanons/Prompts

(Note:Might update the post and tags according to the requirement)

A 15 y/o Scorpius Malfoy accidentally stumbles upon a pensive of his father, that contains the memories of a certain witch he had feelings for before he met Scorp's mother. Seeing the loneliness and despair that has fallen upon his father after the death of his mother Astoria, Scorpius decides to use the prohibited Time-Turner to change the courses of the past.

But this meant two things: he'd never be able to experience the love and warmth of his mother and....he probably would cease to exist.

"This is madness Scorp!" Albus shouted angrily. " Uncle Ron and Auntie Mione are happily married. They have loved each other for ages. And this also means,Rose wouldn't exist as well. Do you really intend to do this over the one-sided crush that your father had on Auntie Mione once upon a time?!"

Basically, Albus trying to convince him in all possible ways that this is a bad idea.

Cue to Ron and Hermione arguing at the backyard of Harry-Ginny's house. They even forgot to cast Silencing Charm. Hence,everyone including the kids heard their argument.

"Oh,stop behaving like you're the only one who has been compromising in this marriage!!! Did I tell you to give up your position in the Ministry of Magic? No!" Ron yelled. " Why are you even bringing this up?! I never said it was your fault or anything!"Hermione tried to reason. "BECAUSE I'M TIRED. TIRED OF EVERYONE PRETENDING LIKE YOU HAVE DONE ME A FAVOR BY MARRYING ME WHEN IT IS THE OPPOSITE!!!" "Wh-what do you mean?"Hermione asked meekly. Ron scoffed. "Your parents are gone,Hermione. If we didn't take you into the Burrow, you wouldn't have anywhere to go. You needed us. You needed me." Hermione looked like she was trying to process the words that Ron just said. Or maybe, she was just trying to convince herself that Ron is capable of saying something like this. It's just Ron being in a foul mood. He definitely doesn't mean it."Ron let's talk about this tomorrow, okay?" Hermione tried to calm herself down. "Harry and Ginny are probably waiting for us in the dining table."

"Why? Can't face the truth?" Ron sneered. "If you were sensible enough Ronald, we'd be having this conversation at our own home,with a Silencing Charm on and without children listening to this," Hermione retorted while hinting towards Albus and Scorpius behind them,who were looking warily back and forth between the older duo. It took a while before Ron realised what she meant and grudgingly complied to go inside the house.

Scorpius gave Albus a if-this-is-what-you-mean-by-them-being-a-happy-couple look.

"Well,older couples fight. My parents fight as well. Uncle Ron is a bit aggressive,you know. But they have been like this for years.Also we don't know what actually happened between them.See,Aunty Mione didn't even fight him back," defended Albus."She didn't fight back because she knew we were listening,Al. And I don't know but this sounded more like defamation than argument." Albus sighed loudly,aware that there's no point in arguing. "So, you're still keen on getting Mr.Malfoy and Auntie Granger together in the past?" he asked instead.

"I think now I'm even more keen on getting them together,"Scorpius replied with a slight grin.

Yule Ball AU: Draco is awed when Hermione descends downstairs.

His expressions form into a scowl when he witnesses Ron and Hermione's encounter,and it pisses him off to no end when he sees her crying.

"Pathetic shite really. Ruined the whole festive mood" he mutters to himself. Even all the purring and cooing of Pansy Parkinson beside him couldn't fix his mood."Well that's what she gets for gushing over Weaselby of all possible blokes. Even Longbottom or Potter would know better than making her cry at the Ball. Seems like Weasley lacks in everything,even courting manners. But well,what do I care?"

"Enough to disturb others' sleep through your late night self-indulgent altercations" a voice drawled in beside his bed.

"Seriously,mate. Try to sleep or let others sleep. This was a long,tiring day and we have a tournament ahead,"Theo grumbled from under the covers while Draco shot a glare at this direction.

Another Time Travel fic. This time it's Hermione and Draco going back to time for their own purposes but getting entangled in the middle as they decide to help each other out before returning to the original timeline.

"Be wise before you hold my hand,Granger" Draco said. "I'm not just offering you for a dance. I'm offering you for a lifetime with me. Once you accept this, you're never returning to Weasley."

If Hermione didn't know better what Draco looks like and sounds like when he's joking,she'd almost think this was just one of his attempts at flirting. But one look at his eyes and the intonation of his words sent her shivers.

"That's not how time traveling works,Malfoy. We aren't supposed to end up together. That's not why we're here,"she explained.

"It's okay,Granger. You can just tell me you don't want this,"he chuckled bitterly. "For if you did, you wouldn't care what happens and what's supposed to happen. You'd just join me without excuses."

"I'm not making excuses,Draco. I'm a mother as well. If I mess here in this timeline, they'd be gone there in the future,"seethed Hermione.

One of the common tropes here: Compulsory Marriage under Marriage Law post-war. Here, Hermione is literally fighting with the Ministry to prevent her marriage with Draco. While Draco reluctantly agreed to the marriage since this was the only way to save himself from landing into Azkaban, Hermione had a huge outburst.

"Minister,are you seriously telling me I have to marry this git?" Hermione scoffed in disbelief. "Now now Granger. That's not the way to refer to your future husband," Draco drawled in. She almost forgot Kingsley called both of them to talk about their compatibility in terms of marriage. "Quite rich coming from someone that called me filthy mudblood the entire time he'd known me".That seemed to shut Draco up. The Minister in the question coughed a bit to grab their attention. "Hermione, I'm sorry,okay? I tried talking with the other ministers about this. But nobody including myself seem to come up with a solution better than this." "Granger, don't act like this is a punishment only for you. If choices or circumstances were any better, I'd rather do a dirty dance with goblins of the Gringotts than showing up here and talk about the prospect of marriage....or whatever this is," Draco said in an annoyed tone."Serves you right for all the horrid things you were part of," Hermione replied to him and then turned to Shacklebolt, " I understand why and how this is a punishment to him. But this is a punishment to me as well. And what am I being punished for?"she almost cried out. Draco visibly flinched a bit. "Ever since I stepped into the Wizarding World, almost everyone has taken a knack of making a point to me that I'll never be good enough to belong here. So, I studied.I learnt as much as possible,more than anyone else and tried to dedicate myself to whatever it takes to make a perfect witch. Then, Voldemort returned. Second Wizarding War came along. Everyone talks about what or who has been lost who has made sacrifices but does anyone know I had to take it to myself to wipe out my parents' memories of me and drive them away because the Wizarding World cannot provide them with protection?!"Her eyes were glistened and voice became hoarse. "Hermione,you have to know I'm sorry and thankful-" "No,Minister. I'm not holding anyone accountable for what became of my parents. That's completely my own doing.What I'm trying to understand is after everything I've seen and been through, why am I to be hitched against my own volition to this rotten scum of a Deatheater?!" "Ex.Death. Eater,"Draco said in a dangerously low voice. "You have all the reasons to hate me,Granger. But don't carelessly throw around words like you know me. Despite all the hatred and animosity over the years, I tried to warn you during the Triwizard tournament. I didn't want you to end up at the Manor and I definitely didn't want this!"he shrieked pointing at her forearm where that eight-lettered word was curved in forever. "I didn't want this either," he said in a softer tone,pointing at his own forearm and own scar this time. "So,you see. I'm not the good guy that you'd want as your husband. But I'm not as evil as you expect me to be either." Draco's eyes held nothing but honesty and sincerity which took Hermione aback. "Have you said your piece?" she asked with a renewed vigor to which Draco nodded.

"I'd submit my wand and all magical articles to your office tomorrow,Minister. And return to the Muggle world for good. I shall take your leave now." With that she stomped out of the room without even sparing the other two wizards a glance or letting them speak.

Draco's boggart wasn't his father's disappointment in him. Heck it wasn't even the Dark Lord himself. His boggart was a certain Muggleborn witch crying and writhing in pain on the stone cold floor of the Manor,her screams ringing through the Manor walls tortured by his own aunt while he stands there like a coward, doing nothing,not even looking at her.

After being able to successfully able to restore her parents' memories using the Memory Charm,ever-so-curious Hermione Granger tries it on herself. What she didn't expect was an overwhelming rush of memories consisting of a certain very familiar blonde with very unfamiliar moments between them. Shock,surprise,sadness and anger crashed down on her altogether. Did anyone else know? Had he obliviated himself as well?

She knew accepting a dare from Weasley Twins meant trouble. Yet,when they called her a scaredy cat for trying to back down from the bet,she lunged into it. Even if that meant she had to stalk Draco Malfoy the annoying ferret for a week while disillusioning herself. What she didn't realise was that the thing that started as a dare would become habit while being thrust into a totally different perspective of what the-boy-who-made-her-school-life-hell really was.

She was tired of being called ‘boring’ and ‘no fun’. The one time she decided to pull on a prank was on someone no one would expect. Draco Malfoy. So,when an accident happens while concucting the Love Potion and the cauldron explodes,Hermione falls in love with her forever nemesis. Or should I say, pretends to fall in love with him.Draco Malfoy was already having a hard time accomplishing the task he was assigned with. A bushy headed witch being all sappy and clingy was the last thing he needed at the moment.

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honeycobie · 4 years

Text

Ephemeral

part of the round the world tbz collab held by @ukiyoexo and @juyeonzz

[teaser]

» pairing: sangyeon x reader

» genre: fluff/angst, time travel au, historical au

» word count: 16.2k

» a/n: uh hello...i’m back momentarily to post this fic that i put my blood, sweat and tears into and then i’m gonna disappear again :D i wrote on a google docs first and i wrote 36 pages ;;; yeah, i went overboard. anyways, hope y’all enjoy this! pls don’t flop or else i’ll cry because i spent so much time perfecting it and i’m still doubting my writing skills. goodbye for now (don’t worry, the angst isn’t that sad)!

» disclaimer: the characters may be based on real-life historical figures but they are not real and are portrayed as needed for plot purposes. although i have done some extra research on the joseon dynasty, i do not have much knowledge on this topic so please excuse any mistakes on the history/events.

» now playing: i swear i’ll never leave again by keshi

» round the world masterlist please please please check out all the other fics! they are all *chef’s kith*

You step out into the sunshine, smiling brightly as you inhale deeply. “Doesn’t the air smell different here, too?” you ask, your suitcase trailing behind you.

Your friend gives you a weird look. “Yeah, pollution,” she remarks sarcastically, sliding on a pair of sunglasses.

Ignoring her, you tilt your head to admire the bustling city of Seoul and the cloudless, vast sky. The pleasant weather felt like the city was welcoming you warmly with open arms.

“I’m so excited to visit all the tourist spots in Korea!” you exclaim, already running through the mental checklist of things you wanted to do.

“I can’t believe you made me come with you,” she begins, glancing at you grumpily. “I’m sure you could’ve survived on your own.”

“I know you’re looking forward to it too and besides there might be some cute boys around here,” you laugh, nudging her playfully in the ribs as you squint, looking around for any building that might resemble the hotel you were supposed to be staying at.

Your friend can’t help but smile at how enthusiastic you are, her mood brightening after a long flight. “Which hotel did you book?” she asks, slowing down her pace to peer at your phone.

“Four Seasons Hotel,” you respond, showing her the map. “I don’t see it though? It should be this street.” you furrow your eyebrows, confused as you try to navigate through the busy crowd of Seoul.

Groaning, she snatches your phone out of your hands, giving you a pointed look. “You’ve never been good with directions.” she chides, examining the map carefully.

Pouting, you don’t reply, turning your gaze to the towering skyscrapers and buildings of the city, the sunlight glinting off of glass, rendering it so blinding that you had to avert your eyes. The streets and sidewalk were busy, bustling with people and cars with their own destination. You take in another deep breath before your face screws up, feeling a cough rise in your throat, hacking when exhaust from the nearest car hits you.

She was right, it did smell like pollution but there was something about Seoul, the way the city was teeming with life, swarming with both people and vehicles, making it special, different from any other big city. Time seemed to fly fast here, a blink of an eye and hours had already passed but at the same time, it slowed down when you took your time to take in your surroundings, to take a deep breath to ground yourself.

You jolt back into attention when your friend calls your name. “We should’ve made a turn on a street before. I take back my previous statement. You wouldn’t be able to survive here without me.” she grumbled, exasperation written all over her face.

Grinning, you hook your arm through hers, halting in the middle of the sidewalk. “And this is why I love you.” you coo, batting your eyelashes at her.

Shrugging off your arm, she feigns disgust, speeding up her pace so she was well ahead of you. “You can pay me back by treating me to dinner,” she calls, smiling cheekily.

You dash after her, your suitcase bumping wildly on the concrete of the sidewalk.“Wait a minute-” you start to argue with her, trying to negotiate as you know how much she could eat. That girl could eat a whole buffet if she set her mind on it. She just waves you off dismissively, ignoring your pleas as she hums to herself as if you weren’t next to her.

»»————-　　————-««

Letting out a sigh, you shrug off your bag, flopping on the couch in your hotel room after indulging in delicious Korean cuisine. Staring at the ceiling, you shift into a comfortable position, closing your eyes as you were starting to feel sluggish, your limbs heavy and you had to fight to keep your eyes open.

The moment you gave into the insistent pull of sleep, you were promptly interrupted by a pillow pelting your side with a soft thump. Stretching languorously, you sit up, blinking the drowsiness away.

Sitting on the bed across from you, your friend scowls at you. “Don’t we have somewhere to go this evening? I remember you blabbering in my ear the entire time at the restaurant.”

Eyes widening, you sit up, your sleepiness vanishing in a flash. “Right! We’re visiting Gyeongbokgung Palace! It was the main imperial palace of the Joseon Dynasty.”

“You read up on it, huh?” she teases, giving you a cocky smirk.

Gasping, you place a hand on your chest, offended. “I did not! I’m just smart!” you retort. Okay, maybe you did but for the sake of your pride and dignity, a white lie wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Just admit it, nerd.” she scoffs, jabbing you in the side. She knew you too well, seeing through the lie that only served as a flimsy barrier from the truth.

Swatting her hand away, you stick your tongue out. “On that topic, we’ll be following a tour guide so we’ll be in a group with other tourists.” you utter, reclining back, your arms behind your head.

“What the hell? Why can’t we just explore on our own? What’s the fun in following a tour guide when we can be adventurous and spontaneous? It’s a vacation for god’s sake.” she complains, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“Being too adventurous and spontaneous can result in us getting lost. Besides, it’s not like we know our way around Seoul. We’re just tourists too.” you remind her, rolling on your stomach so you could look her in the eye.

"You just had to go in the evening. If we went in broad daylight, I bet we wouldn't get lost. Who would even go for the nighttime viewing?" she whines, burying her face in the duvet.

“It’s only for an hour or so. Just suck it up. Besides, the palace will look even more stunning at night.” you reassure, rolling your eyes at the dramatic display she was putting on.

“Fine. What time is the tour?” she queried, giving up.

“It’s at 8 pm but we can always arrive early,” you state, smiling triumphantly. “It’ll be a good opportunity to take some photos,” you add, knowing that she loves photography,

She perks up the moment you mention photos but she swiftly erases her excitement, replacing it with a facade of indifference. “Whatever.” she huffs, turning her back on you as she scrolls through social media.

You scoff, shaking your head, knowing that you had piqued her interest before standing up, shuffling to the bathroom to start getting ready.

»»————-　　————-««

Passing through the main gate encircling the perimeter of the palace, you slow your pace to admire the architecture. You reach out to cautiously brush your fingertips over the dark crimson doors, marvelling at how gigantic they are.

You refrain from peeking through the arched entrance as you wanted to see the grandeur of the palace when you arrived at the foot of the steps. Brushing your hand against the rough granite of the foundation, you try to picture the king and royal officials passing through the gate.

For some reason, you were holding your breath as you passed through the archway. Your gaze drifting upwards, your jaw drops at the sight of the palace in front of you as you take in the sheer beauty of it. Although you had seen pictures of the palace online, it barely did it justice as it looked even more majestic in real life.

A wide, paved path leads up to the stairs towards the palace and you notice the elegantly sloped roofs and intricate details with lotus flowers and characters carved into the wood. The use of vibrant green and red draws your eyes and although you would expect the colours to clash, they complement each other, creating a strangely soothing effect.

The evening sky adds to the etherealness of it all, the full moon glowing, shining on the path as a crisp breeze lifts your hair, stirring it into motion.

Your friend strolls beside you, equally in awe, her eyes sparkling with amazement as she examines the palace. "Where are we waiting for the tourist group?" she questions, both hands gripping tightly on the straps of her backpack.

You suppress a sigh at the scornful tone of her voice, bitterness dripping as she purposefully put emphasis on the two words, “tourist group”.

“Just at the entrance of the palace,” you reply, leafing through the pamphlet that was handed out amongst the crowd that mingled around the gate.

There was a map on the back of the brochure and your eyes sparkled as you examined it. It could give you the opportunity to slip away and admire the palace as long as you desired without fearing that you'd get lost.

You and your friend look around for the tour guide, scanning the crowd for any sight of someone who might resemble one. Spotting the tour guide carrying a sign with the name of the company, you nudge your friend before dragging her towards the group.

Huffing, she hefts her camera, adjusting the strap. You smile giddily to yourself, skipping like a child and you banished all the negative thoughts, allowing yourself to lower your guard, to forget that you were a mere tourist travelling in a foreign city with unknown dangers. Nothing could go wrong, right?

Of course everything had to go completely wrong.

»»————-　　————-««

First, you had bumped into a fellow tourist, causing you to fall gracelessly, landing on your backside, the pamphlet fluttering into a puddle of murky water as you hastily apologized.

To your utter dismay, the ink started to fade, washed away from the water and rendered the map useless. You could hardly interpret it so you didn't bother to pick it up. You ignored your friend's snickering as you accepted her helping hand.

Well, time to say goodbye to your plans to explore on your own.

As if pushing your luck, you were now lost. You fought down the rising panic and racked your brain, trying to come up with solutions. Even worse, your phone was dead. You swore fate hated you, always wanting to tamper with your plans.

You squeezed through the crowd, aiming for the gaps in between to slip through, squeaking out an apology when you accidentally step on someone's foot. Squinting, you peer for any sight of your friend as you hold your bag nervously, hands squeezing the strap.

You stop at the end of the hallway, eyes shifting from the different corridors that open up from the end of it. You rock back and forth on the balls of your feet as you contemplate, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Left or right?

As if answering your question, the corridor to your right glowed brighter underneath the moonlight and you gaped, rubbing at your eyes, convinced that you were seeing things. You blinked a couple of times but it only seemed to make the walls of the corridor brighten, washing the walls in shimmering tones of silver and pewter. Despite your instincts screaming at you to walk down the corridor, you were reluctant, feeling foolish to follow your gut instincts and making a decision based on it when you ought to have analyzed thoroughly. Shrugging, you started down the path, eyes drifting on the walls, reaching out to aimlessly drag your fingers against the wall, rough plaster and concrete scraping against skin as you marvel at how it practically shines underneath the moon.

Too busy admiring the architecture, you don’t notice the steps a few steps away until your foot comes in contact with space where the floor should’ve been. Eyes widening, you find yourself tripping, letting out a gasp into the silence as you screw your eyes shut.

Red floods your vision as the pain comes. It was worse than any other injury, sharp aches throbbing in your skull as you hit your head against the concrete. You open your eyes, attempting to sit up but stop as your vision starts to swim, black dots invading your vision as your head sways, only intensifying the pain. You hiss, closing your eyes and slowly counting to ten, trying to tamp down the panic and bile that rose in your throat.

It’s no use, the panic rising and swallowing you whole as you feel your consciousness fading. The last thing you remember is the blurry visage of the corridor brightening, causing you to squint to shield your eyes.

»»————-　　————-««

Regaining consciousness, you sit up quickly, regretting it as your vision swims, blurring everything momentarily. You close your eyes, grimacing when a dull ache throbs in the back of your head.

Right...you had lost footing and missed several steps, slamming your head on the concrete. You sigh as the memory surfaces and you press your hand against your hand gently, screwing your face up when it feels tender and sore to the touch.

Eyes fluttering open, you're met with an unfamiliar room. Your brow furrowing, you observe your surroundings with keen eyes.

The room was fashioned from dark oak, with sliding doors made from white paper, sheer enough to see shadows moving from outside, but still providing enough privacy. Candles flickered jovially on the low tables and judging from the absence of natural light, you guessed that it was currently nighttime. Looking down, your eyes travelled the length of the pallet you were sitting on, noting the intricate embroideries curving through it. You reached out and gingerly ran your fingers against it. Judging from the material and the delicate ornamentations, it was probably very expensive.

“My lady…you’re awake!”

A rejoiced voice grabs your attention and you turn slowly to meet the owner of it. A girl, around your age kneels at your bed and sets down the bucket of water, dousing a clean cloth in it. You blink in confusion, realizing that she was wearing a hanbok, the traditional clothing of historical Korea. You exhaled softly, tense shoulders relaxing as you inferred that you were in one of the residences near the palace, where you were able to rent a hanbok and experience how ancient Korea used to be. The girl gently wipes the wound on the back of your head before undoing the gauzes, replacing it with new ones.

“My lady, you mustn’t be so reckless while riding a horse.” she scolds lightly, shaking her head.

“E-excuse me?”

You didn’t remember anything about a horse. Momentarily, you wondered why the girl was being so formal with you before your thoughts started to wander. Toning out the girl’s rambling, you stared emptily at the nearest candle, flickering and jumping like it had a life of its own.

Catching a section of her sentence, you come back to your senses. “Could you repeat that, please?”

“Arranged marriage with the eldest son of King Sejong?” she repeats, brow creasing in concern. “Are you alright, my lady?”

“King Sejong?” you laughed hysterically, convinced that you had hit your head so hard that you were seeing and hearing things. “What is this? Joseon Dynasty?”

“Precisely, my lady.” she responded, concern creeping onto her features.

“You’re awfully good at acting. Hollywood should recruit you.” you mumble, flopping back on the pallet with a groan, eyes tracing the wooden arches and pattern of the ceiling.

“Hollywood..? I don’t think I understand, my lady.”

Sighing, you sit back up, eyes heavy with fatigue. You were tired of arguing with her so you decided to play along. “Ok then, where am I right now?”

“It is 1437 in Joseon, during the reign of King Sejong.”

You scoffed, disbelief written all over your face. “There’s no way.” Regardless, you stumble to your feet, ignoring the girl’s feeble attempt at stopping you. Stopping in front of the window, you eye the wooden shades before unlatching them.

Expecting the soaring skyscrapers and buildings as well as milling groups of tourists and busy traffic in the streets, your heart almost stops when you see a rustic village, with people leading around horses, resembling nothing of Seoul. Seoul was a city of metal and glass, of advanced technology and modern inventions, yet here, the midnight sky was clear of dust and smoke and you swore you could see every star in the Milky Way.

Stout buildings made up this village, mainly made of wood and brick and the well-trodden dirt path was dimly lit by torches. It was quiet outside, with few people still wandering the streets, you assumed they were all inside, based on the amount of well-lit houses. Gradually, you realized that they were all wearing the traditional garment of historical Korea and although you frantically surveyed the landscape, your eyes scanning every single nook and cranny of the town, everything still remained unfamiliar and foreign.

Leaning forward, you feel the wind whisper its secrets in your ear. “There’s no way.” you whisper to yourself, dragging a hand down your face as you shut your eyes, hoping that this strange world would disappear, replaced by the comforting familiarity of Seoul.

It was not possible to travel back in time...right?

»»————-　　————-««

Numbly, you sit and let Eun-ji, the girl who was apparently your handmaiden, brush your hair. The wooden brush was methodically soothing against your scalp, but did nothing for your frazzled nerves. From listening to Eun-ji, you were Lady (Y/n), supposedly the daughter of a noble family in the Joseon Dynasty, about 6 centuries before your time.

Blankly, you stare at the wall in front of you. As the only daughter of the family, you were supposed to be married off to a rich man to improve your family’s reputation and financial standing, proving how corrupt society was.

However, your husband-to-be was the crown prince, which was a rare occurrence. You supposed that you were lucky, but you suspected that the prince was just another posh and spoiled jerk who was accustomed to the leisurely and luxurious ways of life.

“Say...I can’t avoid the wedding right?” you chirp with false positivity, dislodging the brush from your hair as you turn around to stare at Eun-ji with hopeful eyes.

“A-absolutely not! My lady, this is unavoidable! Your father already agreed and gave out the dowry.” she stuttered, appalled at your question.

“Besides, you’re lucky to marry the crown prince! He’s really handsome, courageous and respectful. I heard a servant girl once fainted after seeing him smile at her.” Eun-ji gossips dreamily, clasping her hands together.

You shook your head. Of course the crown prince would act like that in public. How else would he work his propaganda and trick everyone into supporting him? You drift off, toning out the girl’s wistful fantasizing, anxious over the fact that you had travelled back in time, which shouldn’t be physically possible. With basically no experience or knowledge on the Joseon Dynasty, you doubted you’d be able to survive a second without getting tricked or lured into danger. Tuning back into the one-sided conversation, you manage to catch the last bit of Eun-ji’s sentence.

“...travelling to the imperial palace tomorrow.”

Travelling to where now?

“Everyone is so busy preparing tomorrow’s trip. We’re so excited that you’re getting married! And to royalty at that! Don’t worry, my lady, I’ll be accompanying you!” she declares, grinning sunnily at you, either purposely ignoring your apparent concern or she just didn’t notice.

You reluctantly recline back in your seat, shoulders screaming with how tense your muscles were, allowing Eun-ji to continue to brush and detangle your hair, trying to digest all the information your poor brain was just told. You wouldn’t be surprised if a war started next morning, with how bad your luck currently was.

Closing your eyes, you channel all your strength into resisting the urge to punch a wall and let out a string of curses. Not only was it deemed un-ladylike, possibly earning you the disappointment of your parents, it could potentially draw suspicion and unwanted attention.

All you could do for now was to go along with flow and figure out an escape later, when you had milked all the answers and surprises out of Joseon.

»»————-　　————-««

You throw the windows open, frowning when you are met with the sight of ominous gray clouds gathering. It was as if the heavens themselves knew there was something wrong. You squint, trying to find any hint of the sun hidden behind the clouds, but to your dismay, it was dark and dismal, reflecting your mood.

You wave away the maid hovering nearby, silently commanding her to give you some personal space. The moment you hear her light steps recede, you slouch, pulling a face. Today was the day you would be entering the palace, and a couple of days later, your marriage into the imperial family.

You swallow thickly, gripping the material of your night robes nervously. You eyed the distance down from the window, wondering if you could jump down without breaking an ankle and run away from all your problems. Before you could seriously contemplate it, footsteps alert you of another’s presence and you hurriedly straighten your back, pulling your shoulders back into what you hoped was a confident and elegant poise.

You turn around, meeting the gaze of your supposed mother. Although you felt uneasy addressing her as such, you felt comfort knowing that there was an older figure who could guide you and give advice.

“How are you feeling?” she asks quietly, standing close enough for her arm to brush against yours. You stiffen, making sure to give off an air of confidence. “I am feeling fine. After all, it is my job to bring honour to our family.” you replied, flashing a smile that weakens when she doesn’t return it, instead staring back at you with wise eyes.

“(Y/n).”

You tense, before giving a smile so forced, it felt like your lips were stretched too far. “Don’t worry, mother.” The word “mother” felt bitter on your tongue. It felt wrong to address this woman as your mother, even if she had similar qualities to your mom in your time.

The woman hesitated slightly before nodding curtly. “Then, you should start getting prepared.” She turned away, gesturing to the servants who were waiting with countless trays of jewelry and garments as well as combs and cosmetic products.

Your mother’s trusted lady-in-waiting approaches you, an older woman with graying hair at her temples and lines around her eyes, tilting your chin up, frowning at your eye bags and dark circles. You offer a meek smile when she tsks, barking out orders to the waiting servants. They hustle around you, reminding you of bees buzzing busily around a blooming flower. Several girls work silently on coaxing your hair into an intricate updo while the rest observe your face and prepare the clothes and accessories.

You sneeze when the lady-in-waiting pats powder on your face, earning another disapproving look. You slouch, letting them do whatever they want. The moment your hair and features are perfectly done, you’re dragged behind a screen as they strip you, folding your night robes neatly as they work to squeeze you into a lovely garment, shimmering silk of vivid amber and vermillion, plain yet exquisite, seen from the expertly sewn hems and edges and the gorgeous material.

Squeaking, you straighten hurriedly as the lady-in-waiting tugs sharply on the ribbon, tying it into a delicate bow at the back. A mirror is thrust into your face and you hesitate slightly before taking it. Gasping, you peer at your reflection. You hardly recognized yourself, exuding an air of grace and elegance, your hair swept up as your features were flawlessly accentuated and the bold colours of your clothing brought out the life in your eyes and the ruby-red of your lips. You stare at your reflection, not missing the lady-in-waiting’s smug smirk as she dabs rose water on the sides of your neck.

They push you out the doors of your chamber and you stumble unceremoniously before regaining your balance. Outside, your mother awaits you, tears filling her pretty eyes as she takes you in, pride and affection lighting up her face. Stepping forward, she grabs your hands, tears slowly falling down and automatically, you brush them off with feather-light touches.

“Are you ready?” she whispers, squeezing your hands. Your features soften when you notice the genuine concern in her eyes. You nod, smiling tenderly. Your father approaches you, a heavy hand falling on your shoulder. Although he seems indifferent, you can decipher love and satisfaction in his midnight-black eyes. Awkwardly, he pulls you into an embrace and you choke back a laugh, tears filling your own eyes. Even if they weren’t your parents, past (Y/n) was lucky to have them.

“Bring honour to our family, (Y/n).” His thunderous voice rumbles through you and you sense the vulnerability in his tone before he pulls away, the proud smile on his face making your heart soar.

Raising your chin, you match his smile with yours. “I will.”

»»————-　　————-««

You wait in the palanquin, your hands clenching the exquisite silk of your garment anxiously. Hearing giggling, you lift the screen obscuring the small window to your right, peering out into the sunshine.

"Do you think she'll survive in the palace?"

"I know she's not going to. Have you seen her? I bet she can’t even last a few days in the palace without embarrassing herself.” The taller girl sneers, lips curling in contempt.

You watch as the girls titter elegantly behind their fans, your anger simmering as your grasp tightens, knuckles whitening. Lifting your chin proudly, you vow to prove them wrong.

»»————-　　————-««

“Are you not excited to see your bride-to-be, Sangyeon?”

The crown prince turns to see his brother smirking slyly at him, his gaze implying. “Don’t be immature, Sejo,” he replied rigidly, fixing his gaze on the horizon, jaw tense.

“I heard she’s quite a pretty thing. I wouldn’t mind having her by my side.” Sejo continues, inspecting the scenery nonchalantly.

“Stop referring to her like she’s a plaything. Besides, you know there’s still Hwi-bin.” Sangyeon sighs, not even looking at his brother as he adjusts his robes carefully, palms smoothing over the navy silk and the slight scratchiness of the gold embroidered on it.

Sejo rolls his eyes at the mention of Hwi-bin. “There are plenty of gorgeous and noblewomen clamouring to be with you, yet you’re still captivated by her.”

“I am not you. I am interested in having a stable and mutually loving relationship. After all, I am not the one going to pleasure houses in Hanseong.” Sangyeon retorts, and although he sounds aggravated, his eyes twinkle with amusement.

A chuckle escapes from him when he hears Sejo mutter "boring" underneath his breath.

In response, his brother scoffs but a smile plays on his lips. Turning his gaze to observe the scenery, he becomes solemn, the smile disappearing. “You’re going to have to break things off with Hwi-bin, brother.”

At the change of topic, Sangyeon groans, throwing back his head. "It's not as easy as it sounds."

"You're going to have to do it, for the future of our country." Sejo reprimanded, uncharacteristically serious, unsettling the prince.

“Now you’re starting to sound like father,” Sangyeon grumbled, massaging his temples with his fingers. Lately, he hadn’t been able to sleep well, evident by the dark circles under his eyes and his sunken cheeks. The lack of sleep clearly didn’t do wonders for the recurring migraines he had everyday, and all he wanted was to get the marriage over with, if only to stop his parents’ nagging.

Sejo sighed dramatically, already opening his mouth to yap away but Sangyeon turned away, squinting into the horizon, seeing a palanquin in the distance, the tiny tassels dancing as the platform swayed rhythmically, the family crest held up proudly.

Squaring his shoulders, he inhaled sharply before vaulting himself on the horse, who nickered softly in greeting as the male stroked its nose. “They’re here.”

»»————-　　————-««

Hearing the door slide open, you turn around, seeing Sangyeon in the doorway.

You bow deeply, averting your gaze respectfully. Only when he acknowledges your presence do you straighten, the silk of your hanbok rustling softly. The journey here was nothing remarkable, and although you thought the riches of your home was extravagant enough, the furniture of the imperial palace was outrageously lavish, your home paling in comparison. You inch away from the jade vase you were gaping at previously, terrified of shattering it.

"What are you here for, Your Excellency?" you ask politely, your gaze settling on him.

"My father has commanded me to show you around Hanseong. He hopes for you to see the glory and learn the ways of the imperial city." the crown prince states, his voice void of any emotion as he studies you, his eyes narrowed slightly.

Hesitating, you nod, giving him a tiny smile. "I would love to."

"I shall call for a palanquin then," Sangyeon responds and although he turns away, you can see the flash of distaste on his face. When he steps towards the exit to leave, you call out, causing him to stop.

What is it, Lady (Y/n)?" he turns around, raising an eyebrow.

You wince at the way he addresses you so formally. Although it served as a form of respect, it felt foreign and it made him feel even more distant.

"Is it alright if we could go by horse?" you dare to ask, anticipating his answer. After suffering through the whole journey to the imperial palace in such a suffocating space, you were determined to never experience it again.

When you notice the blank look on his face, you shake your head quickly. "Pretend I didn't say anything, Your Excellency." you hastily add, lowering your gaze.

Sangyeon's lips part slightly as he considers. He has to admit; he was pleasantly shocked by your request. Many distinguished ladies such as yourself were quite comfortable inside a palanquin, shielded from the world and its dangers.

He preferred experiencing things first-hand, on the back of a horse, racing through golden fields of wheat and feeling the wind tousle his hair. It provided a sense of freedom before he returned to the restraining imperial palace. Sangyeon hated travelling in a palanquin as it reminded him of his royal status and how it prompted others to treat him differently.

"Of course. We will leave at dusk then," he says stiffly, before proceeding to leave, the dark lacquered floorboards creaking slightly under his footsteps. Raising your head, you watch his figure disappear from your sight, a relieved sigh escaping your lips.

Unbeknownst to you, his lips curl into a small smile.

Perhaps you weren't as dreadful as he thought.

»»————-　　————-««

Just as planned, you found Sangyeon waiting with two horses outside the gate, his sharp jawline accentuated by the coral rays of the setting sun. He didn’t notice you, his eyes trained on something you couldn’t see. Slowing your pace, you drag your feet in the soft mud, wondering if it was a mistake to refuse the offer of a palanquin. After all, you weren’t well accustomed with horses. You envisioned yourself falling off the horse mid-journey and shuddered, not eager to have a repeat of an incident. Clenching your jaw in determination, you told yourself that you were doing this to prove to the prince that you were different. Marching towards him briskly, you greeted him with a bow, with which he acknowledged stiffly.

Sangyeon chuckled softly, seeing you stare doubtfully at the horse, offering his hand which you gratefully accepted. Hoisting you onto your stead, you struggled to regain balance for a few seconds, your heart hammering against your ribs. As if sensing your uncertainty, the horse snorts, tossing its head and you yelp, gripping the reins tightly, only causing the horse to angrily neigh, becoming even more restless.

“Relax, you’re only throwing the horse off.” he utters, seating himself on his stead with an easy air that came with constant practice.

“I know that.” you shoot back, daring a glance at the prince. Sangyeon seems surprised at first, eyebrows arched in question, then laughing heartily, startling you. It was the first time you had seen him expressing mirth, instead of his usual intimidating stoic expression.

Before you can ride off, a shout is heard from behind you. Turning around in the saddle, you notice a guard dashing towards you, sweat matting his hair. “Your Excellency, you can’t just run off like that. Your Majesty has assigned me to assist you and Lady (Y/n).”

Sangyeon waves him off dismissively. “We don’t need a guard. But if it comes to it, I can protect us both.” At that, he pulls back his robe, revealing a lethal-looking dagger sheathed at his hip.

The guard opens his mouth, attempting to protest but Sangyeon gives him a stern look. “That’s an order.” You watch on quietly as the guard sullenly walks back at the prince’s words. Sangyeon turns his horse back around with a slight tug of the reins. “Let’s get going. It’s ideal to be back before nightfall.”

You nod, tugging lightly on your reins. “Try to keep up.” he snickers, displaying an uncharacteristically playful and teasing side. You gasp, offended. Sure, you didn’t have much experience with horses, especially compared to him but you were certain you’d be able to pick it up quickly.

“I am fully capable of keeping up, Your Excellency” you retorted, your pride stinging slightly.

“We’ll see.” Sangyeon gives you a boyish smirk as he nudges at his horse’s flanks, settling into a steady pace.

»»————-　　————-««

It’s quiet in the forest and you are aware of the tense silence that hangs between you and Sangyeon. Clearing your throat, you start to think of conversation starters, desperate to try and befriend the prince. It would be better to make friends and allies instead of foes. Before you can speak, Sangeon beats you to it.

“Just so you know, the marriage is tomorrow.”

You gape, clenching the reins so hard, your stead whinnies in protest. Relaxing your grip in apology, you turn to face Sangyeon. “So soon?”

He nods, clearly dissatisfied. “It’s always best to marry young and my father is convinced it will help establish my power to prevent a coup d'état.”

You don’t respond, your body swaying to the rhythmic trotting of the horse.

“You might not be aware, but I…” Sangyeon hesitates, struggling to find the correct words. You watch him curiously, waiting patiently for him to continue.

“I already have a lover.” he continues, “unfortunately, you will not be getting the marriage you dreamed of, Lady (Y/n).”

You secretly celebrate in your mind, glad that the male felt the same way. Being forced into an arranged marriage to establish power and reputation was not something you had thought would happen anytime, yet it had happened anyway. You had miserably hoped that this feeling wasn’t one-sided and it seemed like the gods granted you this wish.

“First of all, please drop the formalities. Just call me (Y/n).” you instruct, and amused, Sangyeon agrees and requests of you to do the same. If you were to be stuck in a marriage with him, you might as well seek out more information and become good friends.

“Second, you don’t need to worry. I’m not exactly pleased to be in an arranged marriage, even if it’s with royalty, so I don’t care if you have another lover.” you laugh, and Sangyeon’s worry melts away, replaced by an easy smile.

“Thank god.” he mutters under his breath, clearly relieved. For some reason, you find it hilarious, bursting into uncontrollable laughter which he eventually joins in. With tears in your eyes, you catch your breath before getting thrown into another bout of laughter by his little dance of victory. Calming down, you turn to Sangyeon who was smiling brightly, admiring the way the dying sunlight reflected on his hair and danced in his eyes. He looked lively and carefree, with his rosy cheeks and tousled hair and you were sure you would’ve fallen in love with him if you had met him in your time. Alas, it was the wrong person and wrong time.

“How about this?” you speak up, and he perks up at your question, eager to please.

“I think we should be friends.” you beam at him, experiencing the most joy and freedom since arriving in Joseon. Screw arranged marriages, no one should get to decide who you marry and who you don’t!

Sangyeon tilts his head, pretending to contemplate your offer before nudging his horse in your direction, pulling closer to you. Reaching out, he extends his hand, eyes twinkling with mischief and mirth.

Grinning, you accept it, shaking hands firmly. “Deal.”

»»————-　　————-««

A day later, you sit on the bed, itching to take off all the silk garments that were bound tightly against your body, suffocating you. The marriage flew by in a blur and all you could remember was watching Sangyeon ascend the steps, his regal face solemn and void of any emotion. When his gaze had connected with yours, his lips had quirked up slightly, as if reassuring you that it would be alright, before masked with seriousness once again.

Shaking your head, laughter bubbles out your throat. Out of all the things you thought would happen in the past, getting married wasn’t anywhere in the list. At least, you could boast that you had gotten married first out of all your friends, although you doubted they would believe you.

Humming softly, you listened to the sound of the night; cicadas and crickets chirping and you could hear the distant sound of a bubbling creek. Nothing like the busy city of present-day Seoul, you mused. While fiddling with your fingers, nature’s melodies lull you into a sense of peace and you sigh softly, too much time on your hands. Then, it struck you. It was the wedding night.

Disgusted, you banished the horrifying thoughts before you looked around for something to defend yourself with, just in case. Silver blades gleam in the candlelight and you catch a glimpse of your scowling face as you reach out to grab the scissors. Although Sangyeon didn’t seem like it, if he tried to take advantage of you, he’d have multiple nasty stab wounds that you hoped to avoid inflicting.

Speak of the devil.

The doors slide open, revealing Sangyeon, his cheeks flushed pink from the cold air, as well as a few drinks, you suspected. You watch him warily, like a lioness stalking its prey. He shrugs off the ceremonial robes, revealing the plain garment underneath. Finishing, he turns towards you, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to sleep like that?” he questions, gesturing to the extravagant wedding hanbok.

Smoothing over the creases in the silk, you trace the embroidered peonies on the crimson material. You shake your head, wincing when you feel the heavy headpiece shift, yanking at your hair. Although it was gorgeous, the material was restricting and weighted, with a ridiculous amount of layers, hindering your movements. Standing, you silently untie the bow, letting the silk pool around your waist as you work to take off the headpiece and release your hair from its torture. Sangyeon takes it and carefully places it on the table as you fold the ceremonial garment neatly, leaving it next to the ornamental headpiece.

Standing in your night robe, you and Sangyeon stare at each other, his gaze flicking down to the scissors in your hand and understanding floods his face. When you don’t move, he sits on the pallet before reclining back. “I’m not going to do anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Sangyeon says softly, eyes trained on your face.

When you relax, he grins, the atmosphere becoming more light-hearted. “Do I really seem like that type of person?” he continues, scrunching his nose as he gave you a look of mock hurt that you ignored.

You place down the scissors before gracelessly flopping on the bed, jostling Sangyeon, causing him to yelp. You close your eyes, fatigue overcoming you. “Goodnight” you mumble, yawning widely as you turn on your side, making sure to keep a safe distance.

When he doesn’t respond, you shift to face him, stifling laughter when you realize that he was already fast asleep, mouth ajar, chest rising and falling steadily. You watch him sleep for a while, his face serene and almost angelic before turning back on your side, closing your eyes.

Mumbling in his sleep, he throws an arm over your waist and you freeze, before gingerly lifting his arm off, uncomfortable with such displays of physical affection. Closing your eyes, you’re overcome with a sudden nostalgia and longing for your present time and you sigh, praying that you would be able to return before your eyelids droop, slowly drifting off to dreamland.

»»————-　　————-««

Over several days, you and Sangyeon have gotten to know each other well, thanks to late night conversations and going on adventures to escape the controlling grip of the imperial palace, where you felt like you couldn’t even breathe without a judging glance thrown your way.

You would be lying if you didn’t find Sangyeon attractive. With his easy smile and the confident aura that he practically radiated, you cursed the gods for not creating such gorgeous men in your time. However, things have changed between you and him. Lately, you had caught him sneaking furtive glances at you and you had to admit that you had been doing the same, although you were sure you were more subtle.

Last night, you and Sangyeon had laid together in the darkness, limbs tangled in the sheets, but no one made an effort to detangle themself from the material. Tentatively, you tested the waters and leaned against his arm. As expected, he slipped the arm out but to your surprise, he repositioned it around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body.

“You awake?”

You had whispered into the quietness of the room and he had hummed in response. In the shadows of the room, you barely saw him shift. “Is something wrong?” He had lowered his voice to match yours, as if sharing a sacred secret.

You shook your head, but quickly realized he probably couldn’t see you. “I can’t sleep, that’s all.” You had felt his laughter, the vibration rumbling through his chest and travelling down to your bones. “What a coincidence, I can’t either.”

You thought for a while before asking him to tell you more about himself. Although you had spent the days getting to know each other, it was one-sided. Him, nodding and listening intently while you had blabbered about yourself and any entertaining story you could think of, leaving out the important detail about coming from the future. Compiling, Sangyeon had then started telling stories about his childhood and his daily life.

Delighted, you had curled up in a ball, feeling drowsy as he continued to speak, his soothing voice lulling you to sleep. Sensing your tiredness from your lack of response, he stops abruptly and when you blearily ask him why he stopped, he doesn’t respond, instead beginning to sing the rich melody of an unfamiliar song and your eyes widen momentarily in amazement, before fluttering close. Sangyeon’s voice was mellifluous, warm and honeyed, reminding you of a pleasant spring day, warm sunshine filtering through a canopy of trees while birds sang their individual melodies, yet still harmonizing to create a beautiful orchestration.

Before you succumb to the enticing pull of sleep, Sangyeon wishes you a good sleep and for a second, your muddled brain ponders if you imagined the feeling of his lips against your forehead.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the door sliding open until footsteps jolt you into attention. Looking up, you lock eyes with Hwi-bin, Sangyeon’s first love.

Your eyes rove over her features and you can’t help but feel envious. You could tell why Sangyeon loved her so intensely. Big, doe eyes, flawless skin, plush rosebud-like lips and long, silky hair. Hwi-bin was so beautiful that she was practically a goddess and you were convinced that if she was in your time, she’d have all the boys clamouring for her attention.

As she greeted you, you panicked, opening your mouth as the gears in your head furiously functioned, trying to patch together words. Hwi-bin giggled at your flustered display before grabbing your hands, passion and urgency burning in the deep pools of her eyes.

“My lady, I am here to talk about the crown prince.”

You gulp involuntarily, your mind still a jumbled mess. “L-listen-”

Before you can piece together your sentence, she interrupts you. “I just want to know if you love him or not. I’ll understand if you say you do, and I promise I won’t interfere with your marriage.”

Frantically, you shake your head. “I don’t love him, I swear.” Jealousy was a poison, dangerous enough to taint the hearts of even the most innocent or kind people. You knew from experience and you hoped Hwi-bin wasn’t like the crazy female characters in kdramas vowing for revenge.

Noticeably relieved, she lets go of your hands, gratitude shining in her eyes. “I’m glad, then.” Hwi-bin turns away and leaves with an apologetic smile, saying that she was busy, although she regretted not being able to gossip with you. You nod, already staring off in a distance, unfocused, gradually losing yourself in the lucid world of your imagination.

If you had cared to look closely, you would’ve seen the malevolent smirk on Hwi-bin’s face and the dark, vindictive glimmer in her eyes.

Oh, what a fool.

»»————-　　————-««

As you’re about to pay your respects to the queen, you cross paths with the king’s favourite concubine. She regards you stonily as you step into a bow, dipping your head respectfully. Although your eyes are fixed on the ground, you can feel her slowly circling you. Uncomfortable, you shift slightly, feeling like prey pinned underneath a predator’s deadly stare.

“I don’t understand how you got chosen amongst the millions of women practically begging to be the prince’s consort.” she muses, halting in front of you. Her voice was husky and deep like she smoked tobacco every day. Although it wasn’t melodious or lovely, you understood the allure and sensuality of it.

You flinch when she grabs you by the chin, tilting your face up roughly, her grip bruising as she examines your features. Eun-Ji gasps, opening her mouth to protest but a sharp glance from the concubine silences her.

“You’re not exceptionally beautiful either, rather average.” she continues, before letting go of your face. “Perhaps it is because your family is rich.”

Your eye twitches before you school your features into a serene expression, allowing her to continue to direct insults and jabs at you. You knew better than to give her what she wanted.

“Sadly, the prince won’t be giving you much attention. You’ll die alone here. Besides, you’re just a willing pawn who will submit to her future king until he doesn’t need you anymore. Then, he’ll throw you away.” she feigns a pitiful expression before laughing mockingly, the sound grating and unpleasant. You recoil slightly when she leans in, her face mere inches from yours.

“However, as long as I live, that scoundrel won’t be the successor to the throne and you won’t be there to help aid his ascent to power.” she spits, her voice venomous, a drastic change compared to her relaxed words a few seconds ago.

“Don’t call him a scoundrel,” you shoot back, resisting the urge to strike her. Yes, you had originally thought he was just a pompous prince who was power-hungry but after spending time with him, you realized that Sangyeon wasn’t truly as bad as you imagined. He was respectful and kind, clearly valuing and putting others before himself.

The moment the words are out your mouth, you know it’s over for you. Although you could get severely disciplined for talking back, you felt no regret, only sick satisfaction.

Her eyes flash with anger and her hand strikes out, slapping you across the face with so much force you lose your balance, falling on the ground. Eun-Ji cries out, kneeling next to you as she examines you for any injuries.

“That’ll teach you a lesson. Telling me to respect him? Learn your place first.” she hisses, crouching down to your level and wiping her hand on the full skirt of your hanbok, as if there was grime on her hand from touching your face. “Aren’t you so pathetic? Apologize to me and I’ll think about forgiving you.” she croons, expecting your grovelling.

You consider for a heartbeat, weighing the two options. “I’d rather die.” you growl, bristling. When her smug expression morphs into something akin to shock, you feel a surge of pride. Although you knew better than to go around provoking other ladies of the court who could bring upon your demise, you did not want to be meek, thrown and played around with, like a toy underneath the lethal claws of a feline.

“You want to get punished, don’t you?” she utters, livid. “That’s fine, kneel until your precious little prince finds you and saves you, just like the hero you’ve dreamed of.” You bite back the urge to tell her that you didn’t need a man to save you. You were fully capable of saving yourself. You detested being treated as a damsel-in-distress, just waiting for someone to take pity on her.

“I guarantee he won’t, he will be too infatuated with Hwi-bin to care about you.” she derides, lips curling in a contemptuous smile.

You open your mouth to refute, but she has already glided away, the silk of her lavish garment rippling underneath the light as her entourage follows her, their heads bowed. You growl in frustration before attempting to get up but Eun-Ji stops you, shaking her head.

“If you don’t heed her order, you could get thrown into the dungeon,” she whispers frantically, her eyes shifting as she holds on to your wrist tightly.

You shake your head in disdain. “Are you seriously scared of her?” you ask, trying to pry her fingers off your sleeve, the material of your garment creasing underneath her grip.

She nods, relaxing her grip. "She has more power than you think she does. She could order your death if she wanted to."

You bite back the colourful string of curses that you wanted to spew. Surely, that wasn't what a lady of the court would do. So you forced yourself to calm down, taking deep breaths before shifting, raising yourself to kneel.

Hours pass, the rays of sunlight growing weaker as more and more clouds collect but you refuse to lower your chin, head held high. You don't bother glancing at the servants and nobles who walk past, whispering behind their hands as they eye you.

Even if humiliation caused the blood to rush to your face and your knees to shake, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of watching you break.

Rain starts to fall, gently at first, nothing but mist before the storm gray clouds roll in and suddenly it pours, pelting against the ground with so much force it causes the small puddles to ripple. You don't brush the raindrops away from your face, allowing them to continue cascading down. You already know your hair and garments are drenched and it sends chills through you. You clench your jaw, gritting your teeth to stop them chattering from the cold.

Where was Sangyeon?

»»————-　　————-««

You wake up, groaning as a panging headache hits you. Struggling, you sit up, eyes widening as you take in your surroundings, recognizing the familiar tapestries hanging on the wall and priceless decor that is placed in the room, lacquered floors shining, not even a hint of dust apparent. You tilted your head to the side, confused. You didn’t remember much from yesterday, except that you had made an enemy with the royal concubine and that she had told you to kneel as punishment for disrespecting her.

You draw in a sharp breath. That could only mean one thing, right? Sangyeon had found you and safely returned you to your chambers. Which meant….

You shook your head, shaking off the smug triumph like a dog shaking off water. Still, you had to know it, had to hear it for yourself.

Propping yourself up, you call for your lady-in-waiting. Eun-ji rushes to your aid, carrying a basin of water and a towel. With the speed of her pace, the water splashes against the sides of the basin, threatening to spill.

She presses a hand against your forehead, concern creasing her brow when she feels the heat that practically radiates off of it. You smile when Eun-ji places the damp cloth on, your heart warming at how caring and considerate she is.

"Why are you smiling, my lady?"

You recline on the propped cushions, eyes closed. "It's nothing. What happened?"

Eun-ji hesitates slightly before speaking up. “The queen came across your unconscious figure and ordered me to bring you home. She promised that she’d lift off the punishment that the concubine gave you.”

You turn, so quickly your head starts to spin and you feel faint. Groaning, you close your eyes for a heartbeat, focusing on your steady breathing and the warmth of her hands pushing your damp hair off your face.

Footsteps hammer against the wooden floors and you twist around to peer at the door. Your heart soars when you see Sangyeon in the doorway, face flushed and breath strained as he pants, attempting to catch his breath. Despite his disordered appearance, he was handsome as always, dark, cocoa brown eyes sparkling in the sunshine, causing him to glow, features perfectly lit in the warm golden light.

He stumbles towards you and Eun-ji quietly leaves as he catches your face with both hands, the heat of them seeping into your skin as he examines your face for any hint of injury or discomfort. Frowning, he speaks as he inspects the faint red on your check.

“I heard what happened and I came as quickly as I could-”

"You were with her, weren't you?" you interrupt, voice quiet but it sounds loud to your ringing ears, echoing in the otherwise silent room.

Sangyeon hesitates, clearly reluctant. "Answer me." you snap and you're in awe of your own boldness. An attitude like this could doom you, as seen with the incident that happened only a couple of hours ago.

You figured you had nothing to lose, anyways.

"...Yes."

You sigh, dropping yourself right back on the futon, hair messily splayed out. You didn’t dare admit that it bothered you more than you’d like. After all, you were the one married to Sangyeon. Not Hwi-bin, not someone else, but you. Not to mention he was awfully handsome and charming, confident, sweet and--

You broke off the train of thoughts, directing your focus somewhere else. You rubbed your temples, feeling an oncoming migraine and you furiously willed it to go away. "Listen Sangyeon," you began, meeting the gaze of the male next to you.

"If you want to convince everyone that we're madly in love, you're going to have to act like it."

At your statement, Sangyeon tilts his head like a lost puppy. “What do you mean?”

For a crown prince who supposedly was a high-class scholar, excelling in both studies and skills, he could be so dim. You suppress the sigh that threatened to escape, instead meeting his gaze squarely to try and prove your point. “They can’t know we’re not in love, you idiot. The queen recently told me she was looking forward to becoming a grandmother, for god’s sake!” you exclaimed, shaking your fists in exasperation, trying to emphasize your point and get it through his thick skull.

Sangyeon looked absolutely horrified, mouth hanging open, and you almost laughed at how comical his face looked before your heart dropped. Was it that terrifying to be in a marriage with you? You conceal your hurt, instead sitting up, the duvet pooling around your waist. You struggle with the silk, frowning at how restraining the material was.

Shaking his head, he lifts his hands to grip your shoulders, ceasing your movements. You stall, heat blossoming in your face at how close he is. Sangyeon’s face is close to yours and you can feel every breath he takes. Turning away, you try to distract yourself from his lips, merely inches from yours and the way his breath tickled your cheek. Your mind was shrieking like a crushing schoolgirl about to have her first kiss and you divert your attention elsewhere, ashamed of your bold thoughts.

“Is it that bad, being in an arranged marriage with me?” you tease weakly, loosening his grip on your shoulders as you clear your throat, bumping your shoulder against his playfully, trying to lighten the serious mood.

Suddenly, Sangyeon avoids your eyes, cheeks reddening. “It really isn’t.” he whispers, puffing his cheeks out. “It’s not what you think.”

You tilt your head, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...I care more than you think.” Sangyeon admits, and immediately buries his face into his hands, already dreading his decision to tell you. You stared at him, stunned. Was this...a confession? When you stay silent, he peeks through his fingers, only to be met with your face, centimeters from his. Eyes widening almost comically, he tries to shy away but you lean in closer to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. Sangyeon’s blush deepens and he instantly interprets your hidden message in the display of affection.

Silence ensues, but it’s not awkward, rather the opposite. Hesitantly, he picks up your hand and plays with your fingers, gaze dropping bashfully to his lap. The room seems to brighten, becoming more colourful and vivid. Pale and washed-out colours of misery and despair are replaced by the spirited and vigorous colours of yellow irises and peach blossoms.

Suddenly, Sangyeon pulls you, mindful of your feverish body, but with enough force so that you land in his lap. Laughing, you prop your chin on his shoulder and run your hands through his hair as his arms snake around your waist, snuggling into the crook of your neck.

“What about Hwi-bin?” you ask timidly and your question seems to partially dissipate the whimsical mood. Pulling away, Sangyeon considers your question as he twirls a lock of your hair around his finger.

“I’ll have to tell her.” he says firmly, “It’s not right to keep this from her. But our relationship is technically public because we are married.” With his last statement, he wiggles his eyebrows at you and you shove him away playfully, pulling a disgusted face.

“You’re making me regret reciprocating your feelings.”

Sangyeon gasps dramatically, clutching at his chest. “How could you say that?”

He lunges forward, capturing you in his arms as he tries to tickle you but you block him with your hands, grappling for control until you finally latch onto his wrists, obstructing his movements. Sangyeon presses his forehead against yours before frowning, pulling back.

“You’re feverish, (Y/n).” he tells you gently, turning to grab the abandoned cloth that had fallen off, submerging it in the cool water before placing it back on your forehead. You’re about to make a snarky remark but Sangyeon shushes you, your smirk disappearing, replaced with a pout.

“I’ve got paperwork to do so I’ll leave you to rest. Get better, (Y/n).”

You nod, closing your eyes, a smile settling on your lips as you listen to his soft footsteps recede into the distance and when you sink into sleep, not even one nightmare plagues it.

»»————-　　————-««

Laughter fills the shadows of the forest as you dart away from Sangyeon’s reach, sticking your tongue out childishly. “Try and catch me!” you call, nothing but adrenaline and joy running through your veins, fueling you to feel foolishly carefree, like you were drunk on the finest alcohol. Running away, you spread your arms out like the wings of an eagle, tilting your head back, enjoying the feeling of the wind caressing your face.

Your eyes widen when you notice something white from a distance. You fall prey to your curiosity as you meander along, picking your way carefully amongst the fallen leaves and large roots of ancient trees that snake through the dirt of the forest floor.

Heart pounding, you reach the mysterious object, inhaling sharply when you realize that it’s a lovely young woman asleep on the floor, gossamer robes covering her frame. Shaking her shoulder, you attempt to rouse her, eyes roving over her face and body to search for telltale signs of injury. Noticing none, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Turning away, you attempt to call out to Sangyeon, but a hand slaps over your mouth, muffling your cry.

Turning around, you realize the woman is awake and fear strikes you when you note the glimmer of menace in her black, pitless eyes. “(Y/n) (L/n),” she begins, and as she speaks, her robes shift, revealing nine tails, pure as snow. Her hand lifts off your mouth but her eyes tell you that if you were to scream she wouldn’t hesitate to resort to violence.

Briefly, you remember the tale of the nine-tailed fox before terror erases it, all reason leaving you in an instant. You couldn’t tell if the woman was trying to give you a friendly greeting or if she’d pull a knife on you in a heartbeat. “H-have we met?” you stammer, laughing nervously to mask your fear. You struggle against her iron grip but your strength is no match for her overpowering one.

“You come from the future, yes? You are looking for a way to return back to your time and I believe I can aid you with that.” she continues calmly, and you go limp, struggling to find the right words.

How did she know?

“How I know is none of your business.” she adds sharply, as if she could read your mind. “However...I can tell you how to get back to your time.”

“In exchange for what?” you question warily, finally finding your voice. Staying in Joseon,, you knew better than to accept someone’s offer without finding out what price you had to pay.

Throwing back her head, the woman lets out a laugh that echoes sharply and you survey your surroundings cautiously to try and detect any lingering eavesdroppers. “Smart girl,” The nine-tailed fox leans back with a smug smile, arms crossed over her chest. “Quite fortunate for you, I demand no price. Whether you accept or not, you must leave as you are interfering with the history of Joseon.”

“Listen closely, for you won’t have another chance.” says the nine-tailed fox, her voice dropping to a whisper, forcing you to lean in closer, straining to hear her.

“Exactly a week later, the planets will align, creating a rare phenomenon and a celestial light will appear, creating an opening where you can escape back to your time. You may have experienced this when you accidentally travelled here.”

You nod, everything slowly connecting and making sense. The corridor in the palace had glowed brighter and you predicted that it was the same celestial light that had allowed you to travel back in time. “How are you sure this will work?” you ask, doubtful.

The woman seems taken aback by your question, then offended. “You have to trust me. It’s your only chance and it is a rare occurrence so it will only happen many centuries later. I doubt a mere mortal like you could live that long.” At that, she barks a laugh before sobering, suddenly grasping your hands with her cold ones.

“You were wrong to fall in love. Joseon does not need you here. You must break ties with your prince and leave before you alter the history, ultimately changing the way your world works as well.” she states, urgency dripping from her voice as she stares into your eyes, any sign of the previous mockery and mirth gone.

You incline your head in understanding. “I understand,” you breathe. “Although...where am I supposed to find this celestial light?”

Suddenly, the sound of fallen leaves crunching alert you of another presence and the woman whips her head in the direction, eyes narrowing. “Look for an open space. The best area would be the bridge that passes over the river.”

“(Y/n)?”

You startle, recognizing Sangyeon’s voice. Discerning the worry in his voice, you try to pull away from the nine-tailed fox but she tugs on your hands. “Good luck. Your fate is in your hands. No one can change it but you.”

She disappears, leaving you dazed, kneeling on the ground amidst the autumn leaves. You pick up the closest leaf, staring numbly at the vibrant scarlet colour as you try to decipher the information. Hearing Sangyeon call your name again, you respond, listening to his footsteps gradually increasing in volume.

Scooping you up into his embrace, Sangyeon buries his face into the crook of your face, inhaling your scent. “Where were you? You scared me.” he whines, uncharacteristically pouty.

You laugh shakily, reaching up to squeeze his face, pulling at his cheeks. “Sorry. I got distracted by a fox.” You felt bad lying to him but at least you were technically telling the truth. You did see a fox...just not the type Sangyeon would expect.

“Let’s get out of the forest. It’s starting to get dark.” he answers, not even noticing your lie, despite how your voice trembled. Sangyeon tore his gaze away from you, eyeing the forest. The sun was almost completely set, mist creeping into the forest as a chill descended, creating an eerie atmosphere. You couldn’t help but jump several times when you noticed a shadow slinking near you, shaken from the encounter with the peculiar woman.

Hiking out of the forest, you huffed, swiping at the sweat that collected on your forehead. It was already evening, the stars and moon already coming out of hiding, shining brightly on you and Sangyeon, your hand clasped tightly in his and you couldn’t help but chuckle amusedly. It was like he was afraid of losing sight of you. Struggling slightly, you shake off his hand, ignoring his protests.

Trudging to the meadow, you plop down on the grass, stretching your legs out as you sighed in relief, tilting your head back to gaze lazily at the sky.

Patting the space next to you, you beamed at Sangyeon, whose eyes crinkled endearingly as he reciprocated it before settling down in the grass next to you. Absentmindedly, you hum, running your fingers through the blades of grass, raindrops collecting on your fingertips.

Your thoughts drift away to the encounter with the nine-tailed fox but you push them away, choosing to instead savour the few moments you had alone with Sangyeon. You lower yourself until you’re lying in the grass, lifting a hand to study the stars, silhouetted against the dark night sky and you marvel at how clear it is compared to the sky in your present time, swirls of midnight and navy blue embellished with bands of gold and silver stars that twinkle mysteriously down at you, nothing shielding its pure beauty.

Fabric rustles as Sangyeon does the same, lying next to you. You can feel the warmth radiating off his body and it lulls you into a sense of safety. Turning your head slightly, you admire him, eyes roving over his sharp features shamelessly, memorizing every slant and curve, tucking it away in your memories. Shifting onto your side, you let your hand reach out, finger gently running along the bridge of his nose before gently tapping it twice. Sangyeon’s lips twitch as he fights back a smile but his eyes flutter close as his hand snaps out to grasp your wrist, lowering it as he brings it to his mouth, softly kissing it before letting go.

It feels bittersweet, knowing that you had fallen in love with Sangyeon. It was the right person, but the wrong time. Although you didn’t believe in destiny, it felt like you and him were destined to meet, to provide a paradise for the both of you, even if it didn’t last for long.

What was the word again?

Ephemeral.

Your relationship with him was ephemeral. Fleeting, short-lived. Something that would last for a short time before you left for good. You closed your eyes as a weight crushed your chest, the reminder that you would leave him behind to a world where things seemed more complicated, especially not with Sangyeon by your side.

“You alright?”

His soft yet deep voice rouses you out of your thoughts and you can’t help but shudder slightly at how sensuous it sounds. You nod, not trusting yourself enough to form words without stuttering or blurting out something embarrassing. He twists to face you and your palm instinctively moves to cup his face, running feather-light fingertips along his jawline, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours. Sangyeon’s eyes flutter close at your touch and his lips curve before he turns to press another kiss to your palm, nuzzling his nose into your hand before he allows you to continue to cradle his face. He exhales shakily. Never in his life has Sangyeon ever felt so free and his heart has never felt so full for someone. Time seemed to stop as you lay on the grass, eyes tracing over the constellations, sparkling like they approved.

In this moment, titles and responsibilities were stripped away, leaving only vulnerability and fragility behind. Sangyeon wasn’t a crown prince and you weren’t from the future, five hundred years later. In this moment, he was just a normal boy and you were just a girl, exposing yourselves to a beautiful blooming love and throwing yourself recklessly into its embrace. Everything felt magical and just right.

»»————-　　————-««

You blink at Hwi-bin. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know! You were flirting with Prince Sejo right in public, without shame! How could you? You are married to Prince Sangyeon, the crown prince!”

You winced at her shrill voice grating on your senses. “I don’t understand what you are trying to say.” you repeat calmly, holding up your hands to try and placate her. You had originally thought Hwi-bin was a sweet girl who wouldn’t swear vengeance but it seemed like your first impression of others was generally incorrect as she was less of a princess, now more like the envious lady in every fairytale who tried to plot the doom of the protagonist.

She huffed, whirling around to face the royal concubine. “My lady, you witnessed it as well!”

The female smirks, leaning forward, her finger tracing over the rim of the porcelain cup in her hand. “How shameful, a noble lady of the court, already married to the crown prince she still flirts and seduces another prince.”

You glare at her, not even trying to mask your hatred for her. “I was simply having a civil conversation with Prince Sejo, my lady. Do I not have the right to speak to other males besides the crown prince?”

“Oh you do.” drawled the concubine, dragging out the words as she stretched out languorously on her seat while you knelt at her feet. “However…”

She leaned forward, a malicious grin surfacing, reminding you of a hungry hyena ready to attack unexpecting prey. “Romancing another man while you are married to another is punishable by death.”

You crossed your arms, defiant. “I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Oh? We’ll have to see what the crown prince says about this.” she laughed and dread formed in your stomach at the sinister tone in her voice. As if on cue, Sangyeon enters, hands folded behind his back.

Hope rises, like doves that fly when the sun rises. A radiant smile spreads on your face, only to be diminished quickly, like a blown out candle. Sangyeon’s face was unreadable, his dark eyes stormy and calculating as he beheld you. You go rigid as he doesn’t acknowledge you, instead turning to lower his head and say something to the concubine.

He twirls the dagger in his hand, examining it idly, not even bothering to look at you. “Is what she says true?” he asks, finally acknowledging you as he stares at you with pitless, emotionless eyes. You could hardly recognize the man in front of you. Where was the gentle and sweet Sangyeon you had spent all your days with?

You shake your head frantically, trying to calmly reason with him. “Sangyeon, you know I would never do this.”

“Really?” Sangyeon lifts a brow. “There were people witnessing you trying to seduce my brother and convince him to elope with you, though.”

Heart leaping into your throat, dread forms in your stomach. Everything was going terribly wrong. He was supposed to believe you but he seemed to have morphed into an entirely different person overnight. Sangyeon looked down at you in disdain, as if you were something that was merely wasting his precious time. The captivating feelings of love that had blossomed were now wilting before your very eyes, smooth ruby petals falling, falling and falling, till they reached the ground, shriveled and black like the ugly hatred gathering in your heart.

The royal concubine spoke up, leaning forward. “What should we do with her, Your Excellency?”

“You can do whatever you want with her.” Sangyeon turned to look you straight in the eyes. “I never loved her anyway. She was just a toy, a mere plaything to me.”

It was the apathetic tone of his words that finally broke you. Saccharine eyes that once beheld you like you were his entire world, now harsh and bitter as they stared at you piercingly, stripping you of your dignity and strength, leaving you vulnerable. Like a dam barely holding up under the sheer pressure of the river, it broke, and all your emotions came pouring in.

You stare at Sangyeon in shock, betrayal evident on your face. “Please tell me this isn't true. Sangyeon...please!” you beg, tears filling your eyes as your bottom lip quivers. “You love me right? You know I wouldn’t ever do this!”

You felt pathetic and unwanted, kneeling at their feet as they looked on, clearly uninterested. Yet you were still in denial, hoping that Sangyeon would come to his senses miraculously and help you out of this mess.

To your horror, he stares at you challengingly before pressing a kiss against Hwi-bin’s lips, mirrored smirks on both their faces as Sangyeon turns to face you, without breaking eye contact. “Is that enough proof? Did you really think I truly loved you? It was all an act to unite your family with mine. You are such a fool, (Y/n).”

You lowered your head, vision blurring as you stared at the floor, tears cascading down your face and dripping onto the floorboards, creating a small puddle of sorrow and anguish, nothing compared to your fragile heart, shattered and left on display for all to see.

The royal concubine cackles, adding to your humiliation and shame, burning bright on your cheeks. “I told you the crown prince would always choose Hwi-bin over you.” she crows triumphantly. “Guards, take her away to the dungeon. I’m sick of her dramatic display.”

Your eyes widen in alarm and you look up, tears falling freely, shining like crystals as you desperately try to seek out Sangyeon, but he’s already turned away, walking away with Hwi-bin by his side. Sangyeon looks at her lovingly, like she’s the only person that matters and your heart crumbles, knowing that he once looked at you like that too. Slumping, you let the guards roughly pull you to your feet, your head lolling to the side in defeat as they drag you towards your awaited fate.

»»————-　　————-««

You sat in the cell, legs tucked neatly underneath you, the rich material of your hanbok soiled beyond repair but you paid it no heed, eyes fixed on the iron bars that separated you from the rest of the castle. Your legs were aching from being pressed into the firm and coarse floor, the thin layer of filthy hay doing nothing to soften it. A chipped bowl of rice and water sat in front of you but it was untouched.

Hearing footsteps echo on the stone of the floors, you straighten, chin raised in defiance. Did the royal concubine come to taunt you? Hwi-bin? Or was it time for torture?

You blanch when you realize who's standing in front of you. The crown prince himself. For several heartbeats you stare at him, nothing but betrayal and sorrow on your features before they harden into a cold mask, your eyes betraying nothing.

Seconds pass, bleeding into minutes. You grit your teeth, feeling like several agonizing hours had passed while Sangyeon stood there, merely observing you. Feeling the need to break the ice that was thickening between you, you opened your mouth.

“Did you even care about me? Am I just a pawn to be used?” you asked, your voice oddly quiet as you stared at him with a terrifying calmness, like the calm before a great storm. Sangyeon watched you, his expression inscrutable as he clasped his hands behind his back. Your breath hitches as you remember the royal consort’s words.

“Besides, you’re just a willing pawn who will submit to her future king until he doesn’t need you anymore. Then, he’ll throw you away.”

You could almost hear her cackle, echoing in your head as if she already knew the result. “Have you ever seen me… as more than something to take advantage of?” you continue when he doesn’t respond and you finally break, the wall you had constructed finally cracking, nothing but remnants of it left. You dig your fingers into your palm, a familiar prickling sensation in your eyes as tears start to swell, your bottom lip quivering.

His words from yesterday resurface. “Did you really think I truly loved you? It was all an act to unite your family with mine. You are such a fool, (Y/n).”

Sangyeon still doesn’t say anything, his indifferent expression infuriating you. You felt like you were fighting a one-sided battle, as if you were struggling against the strong waves of the ocean that tugged insistently at you, dunking you under over and over again.

"I was so naive...I thought I'd be able to compete with Hwi-bin but we were never on the same level, to begin with. She was your first, first love, first kiss, first everything. You prioritize her over me because she’s got you wrapped around her finger. Every single time, you'll continue to return back to her.” you laugh bitterly, fingers digging into your scalp, tugging roughly at the unbound strands of your hair.

The image of love, of romance, was different now. Your relationship with him had started off shakily and although insecurity and doubt swallowed you, you let yourself look ahead, fix your eyes on the light that had appeared at the seemingly never-ending tunnel. It was hope.

Love...could be compared to a rose in full bloom, lovely with its soft and vermilion petals swaying gently in the wind, carrying over its fragrant and enticing scent, luring you closer until your hands reached out to cup it in your hands, under the charm of its seemingly harmless beauty. The longer you allow yourself to fall underneath its charm, lingering feelings turned into tentative and fleeting kisses, then tangled in each other’s arms, whispering sweet nothings as the moon continues its steady climb in the sky.

Now that it’s in your possession, you become greedy, wanting more. Your hands slide to its stem, maneuvering it so you can pick it. You’re so captivated that you don’t notice the thorns that gleam menacingly underneath the sunlight until it’s too late, the tender skin of your fingertips breaking as they sink into it, rivulets of scarlet blood cascading down.

The spell crumbling, you regain your senses and you’re aware of the stinging pain of the wound, You snatch your hand away but the damage is already done. There are two choices: attempt to pick the rose again and let yourself succumb to the pain, numbing your senses as blood continues to trickle or discard it and let yourself heal.

You had chosen the latter. Entering the imperial palace, you had firmly told yourself to not fall for love’s traps and tricks but here you were, like some kind of lovestruck fool, vying for Sangyeon’s affection. It was time to shut him out, deny him any entrance to your heart and instead, focus on getting back to your true home, five hundred years later.

Immersed in your brooding thoughts, you don’t notice Sangyeon moving closer to you, the dirty hay shifting underneath his feet. “(Y/n).” he breathes and at the sound of his voice, your heart aches, longing to be in his arms, to be able to feel the smooth skin of his face beneath your palms. You glare at him, backing up to place more distance in between you, pushing the wistful thoughts away. They were like poison, able to muddy your thoughts and cause you to act differently.

Despite your retreat and clear unwillingness, Sangyeon continues to advance until your back hits the rough and grimy wall of the prison cell. Before you can open your mouth to unleash the lengthy counter that you’ve been holding in, his lips are on yours. Involuntarily, you inhale sharply, a gasp that sounded noisy within the hushed cell, the sound swallowed by his mouth as your fingers instantly tangle themselves in his hair. The familiarity of his soft lips on yours causes electricity to tingle through your entire body and you felt euphoric like you were on cloud nine.

Your hands fall to the side as Sangyeon presses you roughly against the wall, one hand supporting himself as he deepens the kiss, causing you to feel dizzy. Your knees weaken, turning into jelly as he nips at your lip, teasing it with a graze of his teeth. His free hand finds yours, clasping yours in his with a gentleness that contrasts with the unrelenting pressure of his mouth on yours.

The kiss is searing, it burns away your worries and problems for the time being, the passion racing through your veins like a fire swallowing a forest. It melts away the ice freezing your heart and you let yourself submit to it and lay yourself bare, becoming vulnerable.

You swear you feel Sangyeon pass something to you, the cool metal biting into the heated palm of your hand but all thoughts are gone as he parts, trailing soft kisses down your neck. Your unoccupied hand curls into a fist and you know you shouldn't let yourself get carried away.

After all, Sangyeon was the rose, he was dangerously charming, drawing you so close that your head spun, lessening your chances of returning back to your rightful home.

Keeping the advice the nine-tailed fox told you in mind, your hand raises to press against his chest, firmly pushing him away and effectively dislodging his lips from yours.

Sangyeon eyes you, your lips no doubt matching the swollen state of his. He leans in closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You brace yourself, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Tomorrow at dawn, at the back gates." he whispers, his breath tickling your ear. Your eyes open and they flash with anger as your hand connects with his face and you ignore the stinging of your palm as you withdraw it.

"Don't tell me what to do." you seethe, gaze locking with his. You glimpse the pink blossoming on the side of Sangyeon's face and you almost feel guilty but you remind yourself that this was all his fault. You had your own plans and you were not going to fail.

Sangyeon has the audacity to smirk at you as his hand lifts to touch his cheek, eyes dark with desire but they soften when he notices how your hands clench, knuckles whitening.

You don't look up but you can feel Sangyeon's lingering gaze. He turns on his heel and leaves, bringing the warmth with him, the cell turning back into a bleak gray. Although he's gone, you can still feel his presence.

You move to press the heels of your hands against your brow but the clang of something hitting the ground startles you. Whirling, you peer at the floor and amidst the hay, something gold winking up at you.

Your hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around it. A key…? Your eyes widen as you remember Sangyeon pressing something into your palm, flushing when you also remember how...preoccupied you were.

You savour the feeling of the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of your skin as you play with it, your mind racing and calculating. The nine-tailed fox had told you that tomorrow at midnight, all eight major planets in the Solar System would align, which was a rare occurrence that would allow you to travel back to your time.

During your short time here, you had already taken note of when the guards would rotate into different shifts. That would give you the time to escape to the bridge but with none to spare. If something went wrong...you shook your head. Now was not the time to dwell on if you would fail or not. Lifting your head, you stared at the crescent moon outside of the narrow gap in the wall that served as a window, watching the clouds drift by, blocking the moonlight momentarily.

You could only bide your time and wait.

You called sweetly out to the guard outside your cell, lifting a hand to beckon him closer to request paper and ink. For now, you’ll write a letter to say goodbye to Sangyeon. You felt hollow, dreading the final goodbye but it was inevitable. He belonged here and you belonged in your own time.

»»————-　　————-««

You didn’t remember much of the next day. After sealing the letter to Sangyeon, you had somehow gotten the guard to cooperate and deliver it to him. All you could do was wait, legs cramping from kneeling on the floor the entire time. You hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep and you felt exhausted, but you were determined to not let the golden opportunity slip from your grasp.

You had spent the day watching the rotations of guards and you noted that the rotation was the same, as if you weren’t worth guarding. You scoff, scorn burning in your veins. You’d show them by escaping. They might have expected a meek girl who couldn’t do anything but merely watch with tears in her eyes and wait for her shining knight in armour to save her but you didn’t need a saviour. You would create your chance and leave this wretched place.

The sound of heavy footsteps startling you, you recognize the familiar jangling of the keyring paired with off-key whistling, presumably from the nightguard. Shifting, you grip the brick in your hand. You had pried the loose brick from the wall, in hopes of wielding it as a weapon if you got caught. Drops of sweat slither down the back of your neck as you listen to the sound of footsteps recede as the guard hummed merrily, clearly in a good mood after finishing his shift. Knowing you didn’t have time to spare, you rummaged through the make-shift pouch for the key of the cell. Although you hated to ruin such beautiful silk, the long material hindered your movements and you had no choice but to tear it off, exposing your calves and providing freedom of movement.

Heart pounding, you find the key, almost dropping it due to your clammy hands. Holding it between your clammy fingers, you allow a second to collect yourself before advancing to the door, reaching through the bars. Straining, you miss the keyhole a couple of times before it slips in. Twisting it, your ears perk up when you hear the click and it unlocks, swinging open with a creak. Venturing out, you pause, listening for any footsteps.

Hearing none, you pad quietly out before settling into a sprint, making sure to tread lightly to avoid unwanted noise. Pressing against a wall, you hold your breath as you wait for the guard pass, narrowly escaping. It wouldn’t be long until someone noticed the cell was empty. The moment he’s gone, you peel yourself away, and dart into the woods, hurrying towards the bridge.

You slow your pace the moment the bridge comes into sight, the river serene and calm as it winds through the countryside, moonlight causing the water to sparkle. Taking a moment to survey the surroundings for any unwanted intruders, you exhale heavily. Finally, you were only a step away from achieving your heart’s desire: returning to your rightful time.

Yet…..why did your heart feel so heavy?

Your brain and heart were in turmoil, disagreeing with what each had to say. While your brain argued that it was only correct to return, your heart begged tearfully to stay and you knew exactly what, no who, was still tying you to this wretched place, with its malicious dangers and traps disguised as sunshine and freedom: Sangyeon.

How many times had your heart leapt at the sight of him? At the mere sound of his name, of his voice? Despite his betrayal and change of heart, you still loved him and you held onto the tiny shred of hope, like the light at the end of a pitch-black tunnel, that he still loved you as well. After all, Sangyeon had presented you the opportunity to escape by giving you the key.

You shook your head, clearing the treacherous thoughts that threatened to take over your logic. No, whether your heart agreed or not, whether you would eventually regret it or not, you had to return home. You shuddered, imagining spending another day in Joseon, without your family or any of your friends.

Advancing towards the bridge, you watch your flickering shadow pass on the wooden planks, the wood creaking slightly in protest under your weight. Leaning on the railing, you gazed at the lone fish darting underneath lily pads, its scales silver underneath the moonlight. Raising your head, you squinted at the sky. As if in response, it glowed brighter and you watched, astounded, as the clouds broke apart and light shone through, like an angel was descending to Earth.

It shined down upon you, and you basked in it, your eyes barely open due to the sheer glare of the light, joy flooded your face as you rejoiced, as you awaited your return. Looking down, you gasped when you realized that you were slowly disappearing, your hands shimmering ghostly and when you tried to grip the railing of the bridge, your hands passed through. You guessed it meant that the nine-tailed fox was correct, and that it would effectively bring you back to the future.

Pounding footsteps alert you of another presence and you whirl around, the strands of your hair dancing wildly in the breeze. Your eyes meet Sangyeon’s and your heart plummets, raising your hands shakily to keep him away from the light. You couldn’t risk him altering history and travelling to the future with you, even if it sounded tempting.

“What are you doing here?” you shout, panic rising, shaking your head repeatedly as he tries to take a step closer.

“Your letter.” Sangyeon stated simply, voice trembling, full of emotion, of denial, fear and sorrow, as his eyes filled with tears, threatening to spill over. A letter is clenched in his fist, familiar handwriting scrawled hastily on the faded surface.

“You’re joking right? From the future? You can’t be serious…” he whispers, hope ablaze in his eyes as he stops in his tracks, and your heart cries out, singing for him, for his touch, for his warmth to surround you once again.

You don’t respond, gazing at him solemnly and the hope fades, like the final rays of the sun before twilight takes over. Sangyeon’s shoulders sag, defeated. “This is goodbye then?”

“You know, I always thought you were acting weird. The (Y/n) I knew was haughty, snobbish and power-hungry but you were nothing like what the rumours said. At this point, I’m not even surprised you’re from the future.” he laughs bitterly, running his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands roughly as he starts pacing in tight circles, distraught.

Glancing down at your body, you notice that you’re almost transparent, the light erasing you from this world that you were never supposed to even be in. “Sangyeon.” you call, ceasing his pacing as you beckon for him, longing to hold his face in your hands and take in his breathtaking beauty, shining so brightly that you were positive you would never forget, even when you were wrinkled and gray from age.

“I love you.” you tell him sincerely, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks but they pass through, and Sangyeon’s eyes widen in alarm when you start fading.

“Wait!” he screams, lunging towards you to hold you, to do anything to stop you from leaving, but you’re already disappearing, your face blurring as you smile at him, fighting back tears. Just as suddenly as it appears, the odd light disappears back into the clouds, like it was never there. Sangyeon expects you to still be standing there, to embrace him and grace him with that lovely smile but you’re gone. Sangyeon is left by himself, standing still on the bridge, the wind tousling his hair, each strand dancing individually as he slumps, heartbroken.

Suddenly, it was like the world was drained of its colours. The sky was no longer a hopeful image of promising love and dreams, instead a mocking gray filled with dull stars that didn’t sparkle as brightly like they did when he saw them with you. Collapsing on the bridge, he cries, tears falling freely as he hugs himself, chest heaving as he tries to breathe steadily, his whole body racking with the painful sobs that threaten to rip him apart, broken apologies and pleas falling from his trembling lips.

“I love you too.”

He repeats the phrase over and over again, as if it alone, would bring you back to his side and fill the emptiness in his heart.

This was never supposed to happen.

»»————-　　————-««

“(Y/n). (Y/n!)”

Distantly, you hear a faraway voice, desperate and fearful, calling out to you. Regaining consciousness, your eyes flutter open, taking in the familiar surroundings. Recognizing the corridor, you sigh, relieved. Turning your head, you notice your friend, kneeling at your side.

“Are you alright?” she gasps, lifting your head gently to check for any wounds. When she finds none, she smiles faintly, glad, before her gaze travels down to examine your face. “Have you been crying?” she questions, bewildered.

Your eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, cheeks blotchy and she could see the remnants of tears dried on them. You ignore her question, heart aching again as you remember Sangyeon’s panicked and distraught face as he reached out to you, only to grasp empty air. You accept her helping hand, groaning when the world spins and you clutch onto your head, closing your eyes for a moment to stabilize yourself.

You slowly walk out of the corridor, taking wobbly steps to reunite with your group. Your face lights up when you notice the familiar group of tourists, and you quicken your pace, ignoring your friend’s attempts of slowing you down. Gasping, you bump into someone’s back, almost throwing you off balance until you’re steadied by him, large hands supporting you. Looking up, the apology dies in your throat as you’re met with a familiar face.

Sangyeon?

Recognition floods you as your eyes rove over the slopes and angles of the male’s face. He looked eerily similar to Sangyeon and you almost laughed at the coincidence. Life just kept on surprising you when you least expected it.

In front of you, the man apologizes and offers you a smile. “Have we met?” he questions, tilting his head, and your heart soars at the familiarity of it.

You hide your smile, looking down at your feet as memories surfaced, of kisses stolen in corridors and sweet nothings whispered at night, when Sangyeon had thought you were asleep.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m (Y/n).” you state, offering your hand.

“Sangyeon.” he grins, eyes crinkling adorably as he grips your hand, shaking it firmly and your cheeks involuntarily flush at the warmth of his hand enveloping yours.

Even if your love had happened almost 600 years ago, somehow life had bound you together again and you swore you saw a glimpse of the delicate red string that encircled your pinky, connecting yours with his before it disappeared. You listen to him talk, nodding along absentmindedly. Perhaps you were soulmates.

At that, the clouds break apart, revealing the moon, illuminating the area, washing the stone in silvery tones, as if showing its approval.

»»————-　　————-««

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