MariannaCrXss

Pearl, 18, bts & skz, my alt anime account is helplesslypurple77

[helplesslyblue77]

you can call me Pearl!

im bisexual, Felix and Han bias, Yoongi and Jimin bias

for now, i write for bts and skz, as well as some other animes, it just depends on what strikes my fancy

btw, im always happy to chat! im not doing requests but feel free to dm me with anything else!

check out my alt anime account, helplesslypurple77

Links

ao3 : masterlist : request :

Recent Works

Snow White Lily

© helplesslyblue77 — all rights reserved. modification of any kind is not tolerated

[helplesslyblue77]

hey so i skipped off tumblr for a minute and just came back to release a few of my fics are surpassing 400 kudos!!

i literally cant thank everyone enough, this is like a dream come true for me, im literally smiling so hard!

xx <3

[helplesslyblue77]

Hi pls continue your smile is the sunrise. 🩷

Hey so i dont know if ill end up continuing this one any time soon. its one of my favorites because its my first fic but i dont want to raise any false hope so...

but i have a couple more chapters on my ao3 is you wanna read that!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45418621/chapters/114273583

xx <3

[helplesslyblue77]

I love your work especially the Snow White Chan one🫶🫶 The plot was so well written and you did an amazing job.🤧 I was just wondering if you are going to release the others in the series, no rush tho I was just wondering🫶😭.

Thanks! I am planing on releasing at least some, although it’s taking longer than I would have hoped, currently going though some things…

I’m already started with some of them so hopefully it won’t take too long ☺️😊

[helplesslyblue77]

I am in love with you Chan fic! The indulgence I felt while reading it was unmeasurable, something about that unorthodox trope made is so interesting and thrilling to read. Not going to lie, I would like to read another story with a similar idea. Chan really fits that role, having both feelings of someone strict and parently while also being romantic and charming. Thanks a lot! 😀😊😊

Oh my god, ur so welcome! It was as fun to write as it was fun to read.

[helplesslyblue77]

Snow White Lily

first story in the ‘fairy tales with a twist’ series i’ve started(because i like creating more work for myself...) 

Pairing: Step Dad!Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 12.6k(it got out of hand...)

Warnings: Smut, like not in full but its still there. bad parental figures, slight mommy issues, reader has some self esteem issues, also...this story has so much crying, like seriosly. 

Summary: “Years ago, your father had died and your mother had remarried. You never liked your step father, simply because he was not your real father, and you made no secret of your dislike. Many years later, your mother died and your step father became the temporary reigning monarch. You vowed the feelings you were feeling were anger, but when you fall prey to a mysterious curse you realize maybe those feelings weren't hatred after all…”

Notes: soooooo...sorry this took so long. i was originally planing to post it on the 22nd but my computer died and like a fucking moron i forgot the charger...so yeah, so sorry about that. also Reader is more than legal. i ignored the traditional marriage laws of ‘yee olden days’ in favor of not being icky. her and Chan have a age gap of about seven or eight years or so.(side note but saw the barbie movie and fucking loved it, ‘im just ken’ has been stuck in my head for days now...)

♔♕♔

Let me tell you a story dear reader. A story of love, of loss, and all that is forbidden. Let me tell you of a beautiful princess who befell a dreadful curse. Let me tell you the story of Snow White. Now you may be thinking to yourself, dear reader, “But that is ever so common. How dreadfully boring.” I beg you not to jump to such conclusions, for everything you think you know about this lovely tale is, in fact false, and the real story will only be revealed today. So I urge you to sit back and listen to my voice as I weave you a fantastical story. 

Once upon a time in a kingdom far far away lived a young woman of only sixteen. She was as beautiful, as she was kind, a true princess in her own right. Her loving father, the benevolent king of the land, doted on her. Her mother, a woman of extraordinary beauty but unpleasant disposition, could not touch her as long as the king treasured her. And thus the princess was raised with love from her father and cold indifference from her mother. Each day she became more beautiful. 

Her hair grew long and luscious, her eyes bright with knowledge, and her body grew curves as she matured. As she grew, her thirst for knowledge also grew. Much to the queen's disapproval the king allowed her to take up such thoroughly un-princess-like activities as horseback riding. The queen disproved, but to her satisfaction, the princess also enjoyed activities like embroidery and fashion, so the queen let her wild activities continue. But alas, as our princess turned upon her seventeenth year, her father the king fell deathly ill. Our heroine could only stand by and weep as her beloved father took his last breaths, as the spirits accepted him gracefully into the world of the dead.

Ragged sobs tore through your throat. Your father's hand lay on your own, still warm even though life had drained from his body only moments before. The soft silk of the king's grand bed accepted your tears wholeheartedly, soothing your wet cheeks and stinging eyes. The bed held so many memories for you. Memories of you curled up against your father's warm body as he told you story after story, all in an effort to lure you into a deep and peaceful sleep. Memories of crying in his arms as he stroked your hair and comforted you with sweet reassurances. The realization sank in that he would never embrace or gaze upon you again. 

It took a long time for your tears to stop. The palace staff let you stay at the bed, even as your father's cold dead body was removed from the silken sheets, and life in the palace resumed. Only when the golden hour sunlight poured through the stained glass windows, painting the red silk sheets and the golden bed frame dazzling colors, did you lift your tearstained face from the bed and drag yourself to your feet. You stumbled out of the king's chambers, your bare feet making barely a sound as you walked listlessly down the large corridor with the heavy stares of your ancestors weighing on your back. Your hair hung unstyled around your shoulders, your cheeks were smeared with tears and your eyes red and puffy. You were clothed only in a thin nightgown and normally you would have been scandalized. It was highly improper for a princess to wander about in her underclothes, but you were so wrought with grief you could not even bring yourself to feel shame. 

Your maids were waiting for you as you dragged open the heavy doors to your chambers. You felt their pitying stares on you but for once they didn't say a word about your disheveled state, only drawing you a bath and slipping away as silent as ghosts.

With heavy hands, you rid yourself of your only garment and slipped into the water. The pink rose petals danced across the ripples your body made as you submerged yourself completely. You closed your eyes and felt the heavy hand of despair settle over you. Tear after silent tear slipped down your cheeks, dripping into the water below. Maybe, if you continued to cry like this the gods would take pity on your sorry state and let you simply slip away, let go of this painful life and join your father in the afterlife. Such thoughts were unbecoming of a princess, but you had never been a perfect princess anyway. Too unattractive, too outspoken, nothing like your composed mother, the epitome of a perfect queen. As beautiful as a statue carved in ice and as cold as one as well. 

You knew these thoughts, these ugly self-deprecating thoughts, were not true. But with your father's passing all your insecurities were rearing their ugly heads quite akin to a many-headed monster, dead set on devouring you and only you. You closed your eyes and ever so slowly let yourself sink down until your chin was barely brushing the water. You let the comfort of the water envelope you like the warmth your father had given you, the warmth your mother would never give you. And with one last tear, you rose from the bath, water cascading off your body, and came to a grim realization.

From this day on, you were on your own. And even as the room filled with people, your maids dressing you carefully, even as the mellow chatter filled the room, you had never felt quite so alone. 

The next day your maids prepared you for the funeral. As they slipped the black dress over your head, pulled your hair into a modest bun and painted your face just enough to be suitable for such an occasion you desperately held back your tears. It was no such time for your sadness, you are a princess and to reassure your people you must look only appropriately distraught. There would be no breakdowns, no hysterical crying and screaming, none of the sort. As the maids slipped your black veil over your head and handed you the black lace fan, you take a deep breath, and shove your feelings into a deep well, one covered in moss and ivy, simply for another day. 

A sea of black greets you as you exit the castle, the air filled with the cries of thousands. The day is gray as if even mother nature is distraught. Gaunt faces torn with sadness, the silent tears of men and women, the loud cries of children who are too young to understand but sense the forlorn atmosphere and respond. You take your place on the open carriage, your father's casket laying only a few feet away from you. The casket is grand, black with gold embellishments, but you can't bring yourself to look at it. It makes it all too real. Your mother steps into the carriage, her beautiful face pulled into its usual frozen expression. Her cold gaze drags over you, and you ignore her as she tuts disapprovingly but says no more. Even she can hold her tongue when she needs to. 

The carriage starts its long trek to the royal cemetery, and you feel every rock as it bumps slowly across the road. You watch faces flash by, each hollow with a sadness you feel in your core. The ride to the cemetery is excruciating, as the sky starts to rain, big droplets that splash against the casket, and down your face. You're thankful, as it masks your tears.

The ceremony is grim, and mostly a blur. You watch as a little girl comes forward, and with small hands gently places a single white lily on the casket. More children follow, and soon the dark top of the casket was blanketed in white. Your tears are falling more frequently now, your hat and veil long gone. But these tears, instead of being pure despair, are also interspersed with gratitude. Gratitude for your kind maids, who treated you with such gentle warmth, gratitude for the looks of kindness and understanding you received from your subjects. As you finally leave the cemetery you turn back, laying eyes one final time on the grim black coffin covered in pure white lilies. Your father's favorite flowers were lilies. 

The following weeks are a blur. The world seems to continue even as you morn, and you do your best to continue along with it. Your deep loneliness is pushed to the back of your mind and you soon begin to forget it. Months pass, and soon, your eighteenth birthday approaches. You find yourself engaged to a truly dreadful man, but per your mother's request, you are unable to do a thing about it. And then one day, your life changes forever. 

The royal dining room is large, with high arching ceilings letting a draft permeate through the space. A huge crystal chandelier hangs in the center of the room, filling the large space with shadowy candlelight. Of all of the many rooms in the palace, this one has become one of your least favorites.

The large marble table is laden with food, untouched at the moment and the servants bustle around, serving wine and tidying various lighting fixtures around the room. Your mother, the star of the show, is late. You bristle, as she can't even show courtesy as the host of this sham of a party. Your mother has never been your favorite person, and as long as you have known her, those cold eyes, so dead of feeling, have always scared you.

The large doors slammed open and in waltzed your mother, her head held high. Your eyes narrow as you take in the full picture, the man escorting her to her place. He looks young, maybe eight or nine years your senior, and very handsome. With dark black hair and broad shoulders, he supported your mother as she walked across the room, pulling out the chair for her like a gentleman. Twinkling brown eyes and a sweet smile. Just your mother's type. Anger sang in your veins. How dare she bring in a cheap boy toy so soon after your father's passing. The man tried to send you a smile, but you turned, ignoring him. Your mother’s cold voice echoed in the grand hall.

“Darling, please welcome your new father.”

She didn't ask for your opinion, she simply barged ahead as she always did, as if you didn't matter. It angered you beyond belief, but it also made you feel so insignificant like you were nothing and if you simply went to sleep and never woke up, the world would continue around you, not even stopping to mourn. The room was dead silent as it awaited your response, eyes bearing down upon you. Your mother's cold expectant ones, the knowing eyes of the servants, the eyes of this new man. Emotions roiled in your gut and you stood suddenly, rattling the crockery on the table. You could tell your face was a mess, and you felt the tears start to slip down your cheeks as you ran from the room. 

You heard voices fade away as you slammed the door behind you. The worried voice of the young man and your mother's cold reply. 

“Is she feeling quite well? Was it something I did?”

“Don't mind her foolishness, she is simply a child.”

You fled down the hall, your skirts a whirl around your legs as you ran from the suffocating room. You were not a child, and most definitely not foolish, you seethed to yourself as you yanked open the doors to your chambers. 

But as you entered your room, all the explosive anger drained out of you, leaving only cold acceptance and resentment. It was childish, you mused as your stomach growled in hunger. You crashed face-first on your bed, your hair falling from its updo and pooling messily around your shoulders. 

Your mind was a mess, greatly resembling a dark and stormy ocean, a rocky shore tossed by tumultuous waves. Emotions raced through you, too fast to truly catalog. Angry thoughts of your mother's disrespect for your father's name. How could she bring this young handsome boy toy to the castle, so soon after your father's death? And to introduce him as your father? You vowed to never accept this man, to snub him at every turn and refuse to acknowledge him as your father.

(Somewhere, deep in your subconscious, you felt the vile monster of jealousy rear its head and stomp its many feet threateningly. You were jealous, jealous of your mother's goddess-like beauty, jealous of her power, and most of all, you wished the unnamed man could have been yours instead.)

♔♕♔

On that fateful day, the day your mother got remarried, you were notably absent. Your maids had searched and searched your usual hiding spots, but you were nowhere to be found. You were, in fact, in a very unprincesslike position, thrown over two bales of hay, your body bared to the heavy air of the stable. You lost your innocence to the handsome stable boy as wedding bells filled the air. And as you felt ecstasy, gripping the stable boy's broad shoulders, you couldn't really say you were sorry. At the moment at least. The lasting consequences were a bit of an inconvenience. The absence of such a notable figure, the daughter of the bride at that, sent scandalized whispers spreading around the castle. 

“The Princess did not show her face at her mother's wedding.”

“She must not accept this new man.”

The rumors didn't bother you but what did bother you was your mother's response or rather lack thereof. There was only a slight tick in her perfectly arched eyebrows as she looked down at you, picking at her long scarlet nails. You met her gaze head-on, never one to show fear to a predator. She looked over at you, taking note of your disheveled appearance, the bits of hay tangled in your long hair, the red marks scattered across your neck, and shook her head. 

She tutted disapprovingly. “Darling, if you must partake in those kinds of…” She paused, raising a perfect eyebrow delicately, “Activities…try to restrain yourself when you have official duties.”

You felt like stomping the ground, no matter how childish it was. Your mother always made you feel like this. Like a small, insignificant child, wandering about the world in dumb confusion, and not a fully grown adult woman. You opened your mouth to protest, but your mother waved a hand, dismissing you. You turned, your shoes pattering on the marble floor. You had just reached the door when she spoke last time. 

“And for god’s sake, clean yourself up.”

You slammed the door behind you and made the long trek back down the twisting halls and into your chambers.

All through the short and unpleasant meeting you had avoided meeting the eyes of your new ‘father’, but if you had dared to look, you would have noticed the pangs of hurt and disappointment flashing through his dark eyes. 

♔♕♔

Over the next few months, you did your best to avoid your new ‘father’. And soon, he gave up his little attempts to get to know you and treated you with the exhaustion of a man who accepted the fact that he was not wanted. Infuriatingly, he was never disrespectful of you, never treated you with contempt, and oh, how it angered you. It was hard to justify your hate when he was such a nice person. And so, a year passed, and then, only a few months before your nineteenth birthday, your mother died.

It was a carriage accident. She was on the way to a friend's house when the carriage was struck by lightning and thrown, burning, off the side of a cliff. It was a fitting end for your mother, fiery and dramatic.

 It was sudden, and in your opinion a much-needed breath of fresh air. Maybe you were a truly vile person for thinking this, but your mother had never truly loved you, and you most definitely had returned that hatred. But she was your mother, so even though you loathed it, you couldn't stop the few tears that fell at the funeral. 

Later that night, you go through your mother’s belongings and find a stack of leather journals, her personal diaries. Unsure of whether you want to know what these bound confessionals hold you let them sit untouched for a few hours. Finally, overcome with curiosity you open the volume marked with the earliest date and begin to read. As you read her diaries you let yourself cry in earnest. Your mother was a pitiful person, obsessed with beauty to a fault, and it in the end had doomed her, doomed her to a life of marriage to a man she didn't love, not allowed to love who she truly loved. Thinking back to the funeral you did notice the familiar and yet strange woman mourning your mother from the background. A friend your mother had called on at indecent times of the night. The pieces were beginning to fit together. You wanted to hate her, you really did, but as you read of her heartache, you felt yourself sympathizing with her. You hated that feeling, so you buried it deep in your heart, and burned the remainder of her diaries. As you watched the smoke billow into the air, you cried, your tears watering the vines choking your throat. 

 You watched in grim acceptance as Chan, your ‘father’, accepted the position of temporary monarch, at least until you got married. Truthfully, although you glared fiercely at him, you didn't mind. Being a monarch was a responsibility you were not willing and not ready to shoulder, and Chan was a fair, level-headed person. Those exact qualities were something you despised in him. It was hard to hate a man who was so easygoing and intelligent. But you hated him, you were certain of it. Every thought of him was accompanied by a pounding in your heart like the drumbeat of soldiers marching to war. When you laid eyes on him your body would flush with anger, your fists trembling and your breathing choking you with hatred. If this terrifying feeling was not hatred, you could not tell what it was. And you didn't know if you wanted to know.

♔♕♔

For the next several years, you settled into an uneasy peace, interspersed with dramatic fiery fights that left you running away from it all, on your favorite horse, and disappearing for hours on end. You would always ignore Chan’s worried face when you got back, intent on hating him.

You embroidered, chatted with your friends, rode your horse about the pastures, and begrudgingly met with your dreadful fiance. And just like that, four long years had passed and you were nearing your twenty-fourth birthday when Chan summoned you into his study.

You hated his study, hated how cozy he had made it with warm red curtains and dark cherry wood surfaces, hated the faint smell of woodfire, and Chan's deep musky scent that made you heat up with what you were sure was anger. You avoided this room of the castle at all costs, but even you could not ignore a direct summons, so you stood before him, avoiding his eyes. 

“Name, please sit.”

He waved his hand and you wanted to refuse, but you valued your comfort over your stubborn nature so you sat across from him on the red satin couch, munching away at a few biscuits and avoiding his eyes. You watch Chan’s hands as he places you a cup of tea in front of you, and pours his own. You take a deep breath, the sweet scent of jasmine, your favorite tea, filling your nostrils. Chan sighed, the breath gusting out from between his plump lips as he spoke. 

“I hear you did not attend your usual meeting with your fiance.” You do your best to portray your annoyance with your face as you speak, still not meeting his eyes. 

“Lord Brandish is dreadfully boring and dull, I just could not stand to speak with him again.”

Chan sighs a sigh of frustration, one that only you can manage to pull out of his mouth, and sets his teacup down on the wooden surface of the table. He looks at you and you hate the disappointment leaking from his eyes. 

“Name, you are nearing your twenty-fourth year already, soon it will be time for you to get married and take over rulership of this kingdom.” 

You hate how level-headed and smart he sounds, and how in comparison you sound like a dumb immature child. What makes it worse is the way he handles you, so patient even after you treated him with such disrespect. You slam your tea cup on the table, the hot tea sloshing over your fingers. You hiss at the burn and Chan rushes to your side, his strong hands grasping your own.

“Name are you alright? Does it hurt?”

His hands are big, much bigger than your own, and the comforting warmth envelopes you, spreading from your hands all throughout your body. The warmth scares you, but in a moment of weakness, you let him caress your hands gently, smoothing ointment onto the burns. It takes a moment, but Chan meets your eyes, perhaps wondering why you haven't yanked your hands away and stormed off. You find yourself wondering the same thing and hurriedly yank them away, settling as far away from him as you can. He seems to sink in on himself, returning to his seat and clearing his throat. 

“As I was saying, you cannot miss these appointments, they are vital to your future relationship with your fiance…”

He continues on, and you tune him out, your anger slowly building. How dare he, who is he to command you like this? As usual, anger is your first reaction, and you brandish it both as a shield and a sword.

“I refuse to go.”

Chan stops, his eyes meeting your own, and waves his hand around.

“Name, you're being childish. You must continue to go—”

You interrupt, your heart beating in your ears. 

“I refuse!” 

You hate your fiance, hate his crude remarks, his overall poor attitude, and the way his slimy hands feel up your thighs at every opportunity. Lord Brandish is a truly vile man, but of course, he puts on his mask, playing the part of the perfect gentleman in front of Chan and your servants. 

Lord Brandish appeared to them a perfect man, as handsome as he was kind, and they simply could not understand your animosity towards him. And to you, you would never tell. The mere thought made you feel pathetic, running to your ‘father’, admitting you could not solve all your problems on your own. It felt like weakness, and you hated weakness. So you bottled it up and did your best to treat him with absolute contempt, hoping maybe, he would just refuse to marry you. Sadly, that day had not come. 

Chan threw his hands up in exasperation, as you continued on. Your voice trembled embarrassingly as you jumped to your feet. 

“Who are you, how can you make me go?”

You could see he was finally losing his patience as he stood as well, his hands waving annoyed patterns in the air. 

“Name, I don't understand why you can't just listen to me for once!”

You are yelling by now, your usual defense mechanism, anger, spewing out of your painted lips like knives, flying at their target and embedding themselves deep in his chest. 

“I can't! I won't!”

Your words are basically nonsense, the emotions you had buried deep in your heart, all those tears you had refused to let fall, years and years of loneliness and resentment crawling their way out of your heart. Akin to ugly black vines, the leaves long withered, and dead, weaving their way up your body, tearing through your internal organs, and exploding out of your mouth in ugly sobs. You bite the sobs back, they were a weakness. 

Anger is burning in Chan's eyes. The two of you had indeed had fights before, but for some reason, this particular fight felt different. There was a quality in the air, floating around the two of you like a deadly wind, disturbing everything it touches. You were basically in hysterics by now, hands clutching and tearing at your necklace, and it was no longer about the conversation, no longer about Lord Brandish. This was about something much deeper, something darker, something you weren't ready to talk about yet. 

The vines were back, tearing at your throat and teeth, and in a moment of weakness, you let them out. All your resentment tearing out of your mouth in three final words.

“I hate you.”

They were words you had never dared to say, never quite believed, and the moment they left you, the moment you looked up and saw his face, the anger melted out of you and you burst into tears. It was all too much, the pain on his face, the way he stumbled back slightly, the way his hand trembled as he reached for you. The tears were still burning a hot path down your cheeks, staining the collar of your dress dark with water. You felt pathetic and small, and most of all, you knew at that moment that you didn't hate Chan. You thought it would feel good to finally say those words out loud, that it would feel like a relief. Instead, the feeling that ran through you was regret. The vines that had poured out of your mouth were suffocating you, and all you wanted to do was cry and cry until it all went away. 

You were still so young, so immature, and you felt so, so regretful. You were drowning in your tears, you were suffocating in your clothes and you just wished it would all go away.

Warm arms enveloped you, pulling you into a hard chest, caressing your hair roughly. You began to cry harder, the words coming out jumbled and croaky. 

“Chan, I apologize. I never meant it, I just—”

His deep voice interrupted your choked apologies, his hands rubbing soothing circles in your back. 

“Shhh, I know. I know.”

His kindness, his ever-present kindness, just made your tears fall faster, your hands knotting in the back of his shirt.

“You are just so kind, and I was so horrible to you and I apologize—”

He just stroked your back soothingly, murmured nothing into your hair, and let you cry, years' worth of emotions wetting the thin fabric of his undershirt. It felt good to cry, and those horrible dead vines wrapped around your throat slowly loosened, falling gently around your shoulders, and turning a brilliant vibrant green. Leaves sprouted and you cried and cried, until the sun sank below the distant hills, and you found yourself still laying in his arms, embraced on the floor. It had been so long since you had felt a touch of comfort, and you would have compared it to the times your father had held you like this, but for some strange reason, it didn't quite feel like that.

It felt comforting of course, but you also felt strange. Your cheeks flushed pink, your heart pounding against your ribcage. You had always assumed this strange feeling was rage, but maybe…

You hurriedly put a stop to that line of thought. For now, you should do your best to make it up to Chan and enjoy your time with your ‘father’.

♔♕♔

Over the next few weeks, you spent more and more time with Chan. The two of you would eat each meal together, and you found that he was actually very pleasant company. You found he shared your love of horse riding and promptly planned a picnic. The servants cooed over your relationship, most of them just grateful you were both happy, although you had heard strange whispers and giggles from the maids every time you interacted. You asked them, but they had just giggled and ran off. It was strange but you were too happy to dwell on it as you anticipated your picnic. 

It was a beautiful day for a picnic, the sun smiling down and the wind tossing your hair around your head gracefully. Your favorite horse, Pearlie whinnied and reared playfully into the air as you stroked her pure white coat. 

Pearlie was a beautiful white mare, gifted to you on your fifteenth birthday by your father. You took one look at her pure white coat and promptly named her Pearlie. Your father had dissolved in laughter and patted your head reassuringly. 

Pearlie was docile and playful, and you adored her with your entire being. Her long white main blew gently in the wind, the sun bouncing off her gold embroidered saddle and almost blinding you. You patted her reassuringly.

“Just wait a minute more Pearlie, it's almost time.”

A cough sounded behind you and you whip around, your eyes coming to rest on Chan. Your breath caught in your throat. He looks positively radiant, clothed in a thin white shirt and tight black pants, his hand grabbing the reins of a gorgeous black stallion. His brown curls blew gently in the breeze, he smiled at you, his dimples peeking out. You felt your heart heating up and again, your heart beating insistently in your chest, bumping against your ribcage and begging to be let out, if only to jump into his arms. Much like you wanted to do. A flash of gold caught your eyes and you looked down, blushing as naked flesh graced your eyes. The front of his shirt was undone, and a bit of fair peck peaked out at you. A golden pendant hung around his neck, swaying gently as he walked, drawing your eyes towards its golden glow and the swaths of skin available for your eyes to devour. You hurriedly yanked your eyes away and mounted your horse. Chan joined you, pulling his black stallion up next to yours. He smiled and your heart felt like it would simply rip from your chest and leave you cold and dead. 

“Ready to depart?”

You managed a nod and urged Pearlie into a trot. You let the wind cool your heated cheeks, let it caress your face and toss your hair, and all too soon, you had arrived at your destination.

The lake was special, a spot you had discovered one day, running from your mother's wrath. The sunlight bounced off the pure blue surface, and the trees around it were such vibrant greens, rivaled only by the bright wildflowers littering the ground. The air was warm, and butterflies scattered as you dropped to the ground, Chan following suit.

He let out a noise of amazement. “This place is extraordinary.”

You smiled, happy that he thought so too. “Isn't it? It's my special place.”

You were busy laying out the blanket and missed the look he sent you, so full of happiness tinged only with a slight flavor of longing. 

You plopped down on the blanket, and he joined you, laying out the spread of treats. Small bite-size sandwiches, little cakes and pies, and a large pitcher of iced jasmine tea. It made your mouth water and you delicately picked up a small raspberry pie, taking a bite. Your teeth sank into the flaky pie crust, the slightly tart filling making your taste buds sing in delight. You let out a moan of satisfaction as you finished the treat, reaching for another as Chan laughed. 

“You like raspberries?”

You nod, your mouth full, and swallow a delicious bite. “The kitchen really outdid itself.” It is a picturesque afternoon, and in no time at all the large spread of food is long gone and the both of you are laying back, letting the breeze play gently with your clothes and gazing into the pure blue sky. Birdsong fills the air, and you can see butterflies darting around from flower to flower, never stopping for too long. Faintly, you think you can hear bees buzzing in the distance, and sure enough, across the lake, you spot a bees nest, hundreds of bees buzzing around it, little soldiers devoted to their work. The smell of nature fills your nostrils, wispy clouds arching gracefully and the sun blazing a path across the blue, blue sky. 

Chan breaks the peaceful silence, clearing his throat before speaking. “I am really glad we could do this.”

You nod, turning your body to face him, your arm squishing uncomfortably below your side. He looks positively radiant beside you, beaming at you, his dimples doing horrible things to your heart. You cough and reply. “I'm sorry, I was stubborn.”

Chan sits up, waving his hand in protest. “No, Name I didn't mean—”

You sit up as well, your hair falling around your shoulders and tickling your bare skin. It all just feels so carefree, you feel a smile carving its way across your face. 

“I know, Chan. I know how kind and forgiving you are.” You take a deep breath, stealing yourself to let your emotions show. “I should have noticed earlier. I took my irrational anger out on you and I apologize.”

You're not used to apologizing, and you know your dialogue sounds stiff and formal, but you can't quite think of another way to get it out. 

Chan moves to protest, but in a moment of ill-advised boldness, you place a finger gently on his plump lips, bringing his words to a sharp halt. 

“Chan. Let me apologize for this at least.”

He nods, and your hand falls reluctantly from his lips, finger hot from the contact. You're left looking at him, your eyes staring deep into his own deep brown ones and falling down, down, down. The world around you disappears, the birdsong fading away to nothing until all you can see is his face, highlighted by the sinking sun, his tousled brown hair, and those disastrous dimples disappearing as his smile fades, his eyes dipping from your own to focus on your lips. You're frozen in time, filled with a longing you finally understand. Those symptoms you for so long assumed were hatred were in fact desire. You long for his touch, for his warmth, and shamefully, for his love. The metaphorical vines curled lovingly around your neck begin to bloom, white lilies falling from their stems and plopping into your lap. The sun suddenly seems to shine just a little brighter, the leaves seem a more vibrant green, and the birdsong returns, louder and more beautiful than ever. You are floating, dancing in your happiness, the relief of realization rendering your body light, and now you're soaring, dancing on the cloud tops, but then, you fall. The guilt pours in, guilt over your love, your love of your mother's husband, a man who probably still devoted himself to her, even in her passing. And you know you could never compare to your mother, her beautiful face still etched in your mind, her cold expression glaring at you from her perch on the wall, her face immortalized in a royal portrait, frame made of solid gold. And you know, that you can never have this man, the man you want and have wanted for longer than you were willing to admit to yourself. And with that, the sun sinks below the hills, and the vibrant colors leak out of your surroundings. You break eye contact, turning away and standing up. 

Chan jumps to his feet. “Time to go?”

You nod, forcing a smile, and grip Pearlies reins in your hand. You turn, away from Chan and gaze out over the lake. This spot will be forever intertwined with bittersweet memories, a place where you came to realize your unrequited, very forbidden love. A heavy warm hand lands on your shoulder and you turn, Chan's worried face greeting your own. You find yourself mesmerized by his lips as he speaks. 

“Name, are you alright?” He scratched the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically and adorably shy. You took a deep breath and put on a smile. “I'm fine Chan, just a little tired.”

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes studying your face, and you did your best not to feel a little self-conscious. But then, he was done and you turned away, mounting Pearlie as he jumped atop his black steed, and you set off back to the castle. 

The ride back was silent, the orange glow of the sunset bathing the hills in fire, and the fireflies had come out to play. It was a beautiful scene, but you couldn't bring yourself out of your somber mood and the two of you rode home in tense silence. 

♔♕♔

Later that night, as your maids bustled about, lighting the lanterns one by one until the room was bathed in candlelight, you noticed the strange new addition to the room. A large mirror. Your head maid noticed where your eyes were going and helpfully chimed in. 

“Was your mother”s, she left it to you.”

You frowned. It didn't look like anything your mother would own. It was old, the glass slightly foggy and no matter how you strained your eyes, you could not make out a reflection. The rim of the mirror was gaudy, gold with inlaid jewels, and for some reason, as you stared at it you got the unpleasant sensation of eyes on you, watching you as you crept closer. 

You stretched a shaking hand out, and just as your fingers brushed against the surface, the fog within the mirror began to swirl violently. You jumped, pulling the offending hand back and clutching it to your chest as the fog congealed, coming together until a face was visible. You looked away hurriedly. It wasn't as if the face was ugly, no, you would rather describe it as unnerving. It was a woman, her face what you could only call perfection, and it was a woman who you knew far too well. Your mother's perfect face stared back at you, immortalized inside this strange mirror even as her corpse rotted in the graveyard far from the castle. The maids were gone now, and as you stepped closer to the mirror a breeze came in through your open window, ruffling your silk nightgown and tossing your hair. The woman in the mirror spoke first, but the voice that exited its perfectly painted mouth was not your mother’s, no, it was a strange amalgamation of voices, male and female, blending together in a truly unpleasant way. 

“You must be my new master.”

The face in the mirror moved as it spoke, almost as if your mother was here in front of you again, and you hated it. You responded, trying to hastily tidy your unruly hair. You always felt so small next to your mother, so small and unattractive. 

“Your master?”

The face in the mirror never changed, no emotion ever crossed its stone-cold face and the longer you stared at it the more dazed you felt, as if a heavy fog was suddenly blanketing your mind. The world seemed to fade away and all you could see was the mirror. The mirror spoke again, its words cutting like ice, pulling your insecurities out of your mind and weaponizing them against you. 

“You can be the object of his affection.”

Every emotion was heightened, and you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes as a sudden and intense desperation enveloped you and you rushed forward, gripping the sides of the mirror.

“Tell me! Tell me this instant!”

Your voice sounded desperate even to your ears but for some reason you didn't care. The mirror’s perfect face curved into a stunning smile, as its ruby lips parted one final time, and a poem fell from them. 

You repeat the first line of the poem as you exit the castle, your heels clicking much too loudly on the cobblestone path. 

“Enter the woods, under moonlight so bright…” You lift your eyes to the sky and breathe in relief as the moon decides to peek out from behind the clouds, lighting the path in front of you. 

You were always told never to enter the woods, and you hear the words echoing in the back of your mind, but the strange fog in your brain quickly blankets it, and you step off the cobblestones and onto the well-worn path into the woods. You reach into your pocket, pulling out a compass as you recite the next few lines in the poem. 

“A choice will be yours, surrender tonight, Walk to the north, not south or not west.” The woods are dark, the trees foreboding, their branches reaching desperately toward the moonlight. It's silent, unnervingly silent as you walk off the beaten path, your shoes touching damp grass, padding softly across its surface, and leaving crushed beaten grass in your wake. Not a sound crosses your lips, as you walk on, through the large trunks of huge black trees. You look at the little paper where you hastily scrawled the mirror's words, and read the next line.

“Until in a grove, she grants your request…”

Sure enough, ahead of you, your eyes catch on a break in the trees. The dark trees gave way to green moss and stones, and the moonlight poured into the clearing, illuminating the strange statue in the center. It's made of a peculiar black stone and almost shines by itself. It's big, much taller than you and the edges are rough, like it was hastily carved. It mesmerizes you, as you stare deep into the black interior you suddenly feel the urge to touch it. You move your hand, almost in a trance, and brush the rough surface. The surface is smooth, and ice cold, and as your fingers leave its surface it begins to melt away slowly, black goo melting off its surface and sizzling into the ground. The goo swirls, and the ground below it seems to melt away until a shining glass statue is revealed. The statue is large, almost your height, and of a woman. Her face is covered with a strange mask, round and smooth and without any features at all, her hair cascades down her shoulders, reaching all the way to the ground. She is clothed in a skin-tight gown, with a revealing slit up the side. Her feet are bare upon the grass. In her hand, she holds a single object, a shining golden apple. The paper in your hand flutters to the ground, long forgotten as you stare wide-eyed at the apple. Its shimmering surface mesmerizes you and you find yourself reaching out, and gripping its smooth surface in your hand. 

It's cold, and as you bring it to your lips, you have the vaguest feeling of foreboding. In the back of your disordered mind, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Chan, screaming at you to stop, to put the apple back and turn, leaving the woods for good. But the mirror's promise echoes in your mind and you open your mouth, taking a single bite of the apple. The skin is thin, the flesh just the right amount of sweet and tart. The apple is delicious, and as you chew it, you suddenly hunger desperately for more. Your gaze zeros in on the apple and you bring it to your lips again, but just like that, it slips from your hand. You look around in confusion, only for your vision to start to fade around the edges, your hands are suddenly limp and as your consciousness fades, you have one clear realization. 

“I should have never listened to that mirror.”

The last sensation you feel is the soft grass beneath your legs, as you fall gently to the ground, and slip into a dark, dreamless sleep.

♔♕♔

Something was wrong. Chan could feel it, even as the clock ticked on endlessly, as the words scrawled on documents began to blur over, as you waltzed through his mind, your smile consuming his every thought. It was unhealthy, and so, so wrong. This woman, this young, beautiful, and when he had enjoyed the chance to know you, kind woman was someone he could never even touch. This woman who he lived too close to, was a woman forever out of his desperate hands, a woman he could never have, never kiss. The thought killed him. And that was why Chan took the long journey to your room, down the dark empty halls, past the portraits that judged his every move, and knocked quietly on your door. It was late, he knew that. Much too late for him to be visiting you, and Chan felt his face heating up as he realized how improper it looked. Him, a young man, visiting a young woman in the dead of night. But, he reassured himself as he stood in front of your door, his first thoughts had been innocent, a desire to talk to you, to laugh with you, even if his later thoughts had turned less proper. 

The silence worried him, and he knocked again, harder. The door cracked open, light pouring into the dark hallway and Chan frowned. You were up? At this hour? He realized how hypocritical that sounded, here he was, awake and trying to visit you, but in his defense, he hadn't been thinking of anything besides your smile. The smile he had glimpsed this afternoon, shining like the sun after rainfall. Chan had thought he might die. You looked radiant among the flowers, a forest fairy masquerading as a human, a being so perfect and radiant he might die if he dared to lay a hand on her skin. He truly wondered if he had died and gone to heaven. Your smile was like the sun peeking its way from behind the clouds after a storm, the storm of your hatred. Chan never wanted to be on the receiving end of your hatred ever again. 

He pushed the door cautiously, and peaked around it, taking in the fully lit candles and the strange mirror standing in the corner of the room. He stepped inside, taking the opportunity to look around your room, usually a forbidden place for him. Your room was large, with high sloping ceilings giving it a breezy feel. Your window was open, curtains flapping in the wind, and the moonlight poured into the room, illuminating the white sheets on your bed. 

Your perfectly made bed. Your dreadfully empty bed. 

Chan ran to the window, his heart pounding in his chest. What was going on, where had you gone at this late hour? He feared the worst, even as he leaned out the window, and spotted the imprints in the grass. Footsteps. His body froze, ice water coating his insides and dread in his thoughts. Where could you be going at such a late hour. He prayed you had not headed into the woods. The woods were home to many things, some good, some terrifying, and the thoughts of what could happen to you turned his mind to stone. You were the  woman he loved above all else, he could not let you die. Chan knew it was illogical. He should have waited until morning, gathered an armed search team, and departed into the woods, but he could not help the way he ran down the stairs, and flung open the castle doors, running barefoot into the woods. 

Alas, his searching was for nothing, because as he stumbled back in the morning, sleep deprived and emotional, he still had not found you.

♔♕♔

And thus, six uneasy days passed. Chan pulled together a search team. He insisted on coming along, even if the head butler protested, and the team of strong volunteers turned the woods upside down in search of you. Night after sleepless night passed, and the dark circles under Chan’s eyes grew and grew. The servants whispered, their concern for their employers spread to the townsfolk and finally on the morning of the seventh day, they received a tip from a huntsman. A tip that told of a woman, asleep in a glass coffin, deep in the woods.

Armed with this information, they stumbled through the woods, exhausted men led by their relentless king, a man driven by a love he didn't even realize. And as the sun set on the seventh day, Chan found you.

The clearing was bathed in the rays of the dying sun, the light illuminating the intricate glass coffin taking up the center of the clearing. And laid in that coffin, still as death was you, still clothed in your white nightgown, hands crossed gently over your chest, holding a perfectly preserved golden apple. Chan feared the worst, stumbling to the coffin with a cry and throwing it open. His hands desperately felt for a pulse. Fear poured over his heart, as he felt nothing…

…a pulse, faint but definitely there. Chan collapsed to his knees, his head falling against the edge of the coffin, his hands desperately clutching the glass sides, and cried.

And that's how the rest of the search team found him, crouched against the glass coffin, tears streaming down his cheeks, knees grass-stained and dirty, looking nothing like the king he was, only a man brought to the ground with relief. 

They moved you to the castle, careful not to disturb you, and laid you to rest in your bed. Only then did Chan allow himself to sleep, although his dreams were nightmares, plagued with you, encased in glass, dead to this world. He awoke the next morning and rushed to you, certain you were awake but when he arrived in your room, took in your form, now changed into a white silk nightgown, still fast asleep. The maids shook their heads, and he rushed to your side, desperately calling your name. He tried and tried, but you remained as silent as death, faint pulse the only evidence that you were even alive, and he finally collapsed, sinking into a chair the maids had provided and taking your cold hand in his own. He took you in, your hair, now washed courtesy of the maids, fanning around your head, your eyes closed, lashes kissing your cheeks, your pretty mouth, open slightly as you breathe. Your skin was cold to the touch, and you made barely a sound in the room, cold and silent as death.

Cold and silent as your mother had been. 

Chan was never in love with your mother, and in turn, she had never loved him. It had been like a contract for her, to hide her secret lover from the public. She said lover, but Chan was not sure your mother could truly love anymore if the way she treated you was any indication. 

Chan still remembered the day the queen had shown up to his small house, in all her royal glory, and asked him to marry her. He had agreed, if only to support his siblings, and moved into the castle. He remembered the day he had met you, a woman so beautiful and full of life, so bright as she glared at him, so angry as she ignored him, such an opposite of the woman he married. He had admired you since the day he met you, your glowing beauty seemed to light up the room, your smile like the sun after a rainy day. Even your anger was vibrant, so much better than your mother's cold treatment of all living things. But soon he hungered for more. He longed to be on the receiving end of your smiles, to no longer be subject to your hatred. And then, one day, his wish had come true. After years and years of receiving your glares, one of your brilliant smiles had been reserved specifically for him. Not for the stable boy you favored, not for the new butler who the maids gossiped about, not even for your gossipy friends who smirked in his direction, no, this smile was reserved simply for him. It was karma, he decided, that the night after he received such a privilege, you disappeared for seven days, and then refused to wake up. 

Chan brought your ice-cold hand to his lips and pressed one gentle kiss upon your soft skin. Tears fell silently down his cheeks and dropped onto your hand. Chan prayed your fingers would twitch, that your eyes would flutter, and then open slowly, that your skin would warm and the color would return to your cheeks, but alas, no such thing happened. Your eyes remained closed, your skin remained cold, and the only thing he felt was a tap on his shoulder. The doctor had arrived. 

♔♕♔

The only sound in the room was the flip of paper, the rustling of pages turning. Chan glanced up from his book, hoping that your eyes would open, but alas you remained as still as ever. The doctor had come and gone, unable to do a thing, and the maids, having grown tired of his constant staring, had provided him with some books to occupy his mind, at least until the next doctor came to visit. Much to his chagrin, he had found himself being sucked into the world of the characters. He found himself sympathizing more and more with the main character, a man who was in love with a woman he could not have. He turned the pages eagerly, absorbed every word, and found the world melting away. He understood John, the main character in the novel, as he pinned over Elain, the young woman he loved and soon the characters were no longer John and Elaine, but they became Chan and you, and he imagined every interaction as you and him. It helped him escape, helped him hold hope that one day you would wake up and interact with him again. 

The book had a happy ending. John and Elaine got married and moved into John's large house together. Chan felt satisfied as he put down the book, leaning back in his chair. He could picture your wedding. You would look stunning in white, just as you looked now. And he would watch you walk down the aisle, smiling from ear to ear. Your vows would be exchanged, and you would retreat to the wedding bedroom. Chan felt his cheeks heat up, but he continued with his fantasy even as he glanced around nervously. There you lay, asleep and peaceful on the bed. He could not dare to do such a thing in front of your sleeping form, so he stood up and turned the chair around. It was much better to face a wall and do such a thing as touch himself thinking of you, right in front of your sleeping face. He still felt like a degenerate as he imagined the scene. 

You would tease him, you liked to tease. He could imagine it now, your first layer of skirts falling gently to the floor, leaving you only in your thin underlayer. He could see your nipples, perky and rubbing against the fabric. 

Chan gulped, palming himself slightly over his pants. It was embarrassing how quickly he rose to hardness, over a simple fantasy. 

You would let the last layer fall, and sit on the bed, your perfect body on display for his greedy eyes. He watched as you smirked, spreading your legs and bearing your core for his eyes. Chan gulps as you beckon him forward, falling to his knees before your core. 

The Chan in reality refuses to actually pull himself out of his pants, electing instead to press harder, his palm doing its best in the circumstances as he falls back into his fantasy. 

You grip his hair, smirking down at him, and with enough force to startle, shove his face into your—

A knock sounds on the door, interrupting his dirty fantasies and Chan hurriedly does his best to hide his hardness, pulling himself as the maids lead the next doctor in. If they notice his disheveled appearance and how the chair is now facing the wall, they don't say a thing. 

♔♕♔

For the next few days, the castle was abuzz with worry. The news spread fast, and soon villagers were lining up with gifts. Everything from jewelry to a bouquet of wildflowers given to him by a small girl, who sobbed and asked if the princess would wake up. Chan did his best to reassure her, even if on the inside he felt like crying. 

He summoned every doctor he could, but none of them seemed to have an answer. You seemed to be stuck in time. You didn't need to eat, or drink, and you didn't change one bit, from the moment they found you laying inside that glass coffin, deep in the woods. Hours turned to days and you didn't wake up. Chan despaired. He posted desperate notices around the kingdom, begging for any information regarding endless sleep. He tried any and every doctor he could, he prayed to any god available, but alas, nothing. 

Days turned to weeks, and the word seemed to move on around him, even as you slept, so beautiful but so lifeless, and even as Chan despaired. He did his best and ran the kingdom like he was supposed to, but everyone could tell his heart wasn't in it. His eyes looked glazed and distant, and he spent all his free time sitting by your bed, holding your hand. The villagers and nobles cooed at his dedication, calling it the love story of the century, but the servants did their best to keep the rumors from him. A month passed, and Chan feared you would never wake again. He was so close to giving up, when one day, a strange woman entered the palace, and with her dirty robes, she brought his hope. 

The woman appeared old, but with witches, you could never be so sure. She smiled at Chan, looking calm and complacent, a sharp difference from Chan’s harried look. She was wearing a long red dress, a woolen cloak covering most of her body. When she first appeared, it had been covered in mud, but between the time she had entered the door and Chan had brought her to your room, the cloak looked brand new. 

Chan spoke first. “Do you think you can help her? She won't wake up and I don't know what to do anymore—”

The witch raised a manicured finger, and Chan stopped talking, effectively shushed. The witch spoke, and her voice echoed in your large chambers, years younger than her appearance. 

“I'll see what I can do.”

Chan blinked, and when he looked back at her, she had de-aged, looking closer to thirty than ninety. Her blond hair, cut in a sharp bob at her chin, peaked out from her hood as she smiled at him. Witches and their disguises. Her blue eyes lined heavily with black, took in the situation and Chan watched nervously as she walked to the bed where you lay, still as cold and silent as ever before. She looked at you for a second, her eyes scanning your features, frozen in time before her eyes moved to the golden apple, sitting inconspicuously on your small bedside table. Chan frowned as she picked it up, turning it around in her hands, her nails filed to lethal sharp points, and painted a dangerous red. He had never given the apple much thought, too concerned with your state, but as she turned it around he noticed the one, small bite, perfectly preserved, on one side. 

Chan can't help himself, he rushes forward. 

“Is that what it is? Is she poisoned? Is she never going to…”

He can't bear to say it and lets the sentence trail off. The witch stares at him for a moment, chewing something in her mouth, before she takes pity on his sorry state and sets the apple down, turning to him. 

“Yes, cursed apple. But…”

She turns and walks to the strange mirror that had been sitting in the corner of your room. Chan watches in horror as she lifts a pointy heeled shoe, and gracefully kicks the mirror. The surface shatters, the pieces clattering to the ground like rainfall, and Chan opens his mouth to protest but shuts it as he watches. 

The pieces have risen in the air, distorting and twisting until they crash to the earth, and with a strange howl, one that sounds a lot like despair and fills his soul with sadness, they vanish. The room seems automatically lighter, like a disturbing presence has been removed from the room, and Chan suddenly felt a bit more optimistic. The witch turned to him with a sigh, tossing the apple in the air. Chan watched it spin, slightly mesmerized. 

“Alright, it seems like that vile mirror convinced your lover to depart into the woods and eat this apple.”

Chan frowned, questions spilling from his mouth. 

“How did the mirror do that? What kind of mirror was it and why would it do that? Also—”

The witch held up a hand, silencing him as the apple spins in the air again, coming to rest in her manicured hand. 

“It's a cursed mirror. A vile human soul, doomed to trick unsuspecting people into death.”

How did such a thing end up in your possession? He can only imagine the horrible thoughts it must have put into your head. Chan’s horror must show on his face because she chuckles a little as she continues. 

“It must have played on her insecurities, impersonated a person she feared or respected, and convinced her to go into the woods.”

The witch moved over to the window as she spoke, and drew her arm back, and with all her might, threw the golden apple into the sunlight. It spuns in the air for a moment, before it exploded with a bang, disappearing into thin air. Chan staired. The witch laughed.

“That apple,” She said, dusting her hands of imaginary dirt. “Is a cursed item. It's the usual thing,”

The witch held up two fingers, and pitched her voice, mimicking someone. “Cursed to sleep until she receives true loves kiss,’ it's so cliche but some witches still rely on the old stuff—”

“True love’s kiss?”

The witch looked at him like he was stupid. “Yes, true love's kiss. Should be easy for you.”

She pulled the hood of her cloak up, and Chan watched as wrinkles grew on her fair skin, her hair turned a dark gray, and she aged about fifty years. Her voice was still clear and young when she spoke. “Unfortunately, I have to go.” she waved an old wrinkled hand and smirked at him. “Good luck.”

And with that, she was gone, like she was never even there, leaving Chan to deal with the bombshell of a declaration she dropped on his head. 

Chan deliberated long and hard about this dilemma, his brain in conflict with his heart, worry constantly etched across his handsome face. He knew his kiss would work, he loved you more than he thought he had loved anything before. But as much as he longed to press his lips to yours, he was too afraid of the consequences, afraid of what would happen when his kiss worked and you opened your eyes. Afraid of the disdain that would cross your face once you realize your stepfather had inappropriate feelings for you. The thought of your face carved into a mask of disgust made his heart ache desperately in his chest, but he would rather live a life with your hatred than live a life without you entirely. 

He sank into the chair beside your bed and turned his eyes on your still form. You were so beautiful, but silent and cold as a statue and Chan longed for anything, your laughter, your screams, even your sobs, anything but this cold shell of a woman laying deathly still on the bed. Your lips, slightly parted in sleep, taunted him. Blushed a pretty pink, curved and sultry and teasing him even now. You were a temptress incarnate, and Chan would do his best to resist your charms until the very end. You were carefree, wild and the exact opposite of your mother, and as a result you had no shortage of admirers. Your fiance, who in Chan's opinion was a jerk, the stable boy, a handsome new butler, a young lord at a ball. And some of them, you favored them back, disappearing off for secret trists that your mother had scoffed at and Chan wished desperately that he was one of those men you snuck off with. He still remembered the fateful time he had accidentally heard you, panted moans and pretty cries painting a forbidden picture. You sounded so beautiful, and Chan had longed desperately that he was the one teasing those sounds out of you, not some upstart young lord. He was ashamed at the way he leaned against the wall, guiltily listening to your symphony of sounds, unable to bring himself to leave until you reached your high, sneaking off to take care of himself. It was a shameful memory, one he blushed at even now, even as he desperately prayed to any god available, and leaned forward, pressing his lips to your own in a chaste kiss. A kiss so full of longing, a forbidden taste of something he could only pine for, a woman constantly out of his reach. 

♔♕♔

The world was a sea of black. It stretched forever, all you could see. Your body felt weightless, and you blinked, looking around for something, anything. But there was nothing. You faintly remembered an apple, a mirror, and then the sensation of falling, but your memory after that was blank. You decided to walk forward, looking for anything. Your feet made no sound as you pattered across the nothingness, and after what seemed like only a few minutes, your vision began to waver. You felt a creeping sensation on your back, and a voice you could not hear urged you to run, run away from the thing behind you. You knew subconsciously that if it caught you, you would never wake up. And so you ran. 

You flew, your desire to wake propelling your feet, even as your throat begged for water and your legs burned. Somewhere in the distance, you saw light, and in front of that light, a figure. A familiar figure, a figure of a man you loved with all your heart. You ran and ran, and the Chan in the distance held out a hand that you longed to grab. Your feet moved impossibly faster, and you practically flew towards him, even as the sound of slithering behind you grew louder, the creeping sensation sending shivers up your spine. And as you came into the light, as you grabbed his bigger hand in your own, as he pulled you into a warm hug, the world around you faded. The strange dreamscape blurred, and you opened your eyes to the familiar colors of the ceiling, in your private chambers. You blinked, and looked around, your eyes catching on the figure seated beside your bed. Chan looked haggard, his eyes were highlighted by dark circles and his hair was a mess, but the relief in his eyes trumped it all. Your mouth felt dry as you opened it to speak. 

“I'm hungry.”

You watched in confusion as tears slipped from Chan's eyes, and he tackled you on the bed, hugging you tight to his chest. You fell back against the bed, your back hitting the silky covers as pounds of muscle crashed onto you, suffocating you in his embrace. You melted into it, albeit a little confused, and stoked his large back as he cried into your nightgown. Your voice cracked as you spoke again. 

“What's wrong?”

The door crashed open, and your head maid and bedroom maids crashed into the room. As soon as they lay eyes on you they were running to the bed, tears running down their faces. You were beyond confused but no one bothered to answer your questions. It took a long time for everyone to stop crying, and the maids promptly heard your complaint and brought you a bowl of warm soup and bread. Chan, still sniffling, sat in the chair by your bed and looked deliciously disheveled and desperate. You munched happily on your food as the castle staff piled into your room, and answered their questions.

Chan asked the first question. 

“Why did you go into the woods?”

You remembered the thoughts that had sent you into the woods, and now that you thought back on them it seemed oftly extreme. It seemed the mirror might have been the cause of them. You chewed thoughtfully as you answered. 

“This strange mirror, it told me I could be beautiful…”

You play with your spoon, a little ashamed and blushing deeply as you continue. 

“I was a little erratic, I am in love with this man and so I listened to the mirror’s rambles, even if they were irrational.”

You're too focused on your embarrassment to notice the giggles and looks traded among the staff, the way your stepfather's shoulders sink slightly, his disappointed gaze. Because he could never imagine that you love him, you must be in love with some young lord, a man who doesn't deserve your love, who could never give you what you want. He shook his head, putting a stop to that presumptuous line of thought. He knows you deserve someone younger than him, unmarried and full of youthful energy to match your carefree spirit. 

You keep glancing at Chan out of the corner of your eye, looking for any change in his expression, and you watch in delight as his shoulders sink, and his face darkens. You feel a flicker of hope spark in your chest, small and pathetic, but there nonetheless. You decide to test the waters a little. Clasping your hands together, you keep your eye on Chan as you speak. 

“I'm just so in love, I think of him every day, and I long to spend the rest of my life with him.”

You feel a little bad as you watch Chan’s face fall, watch his hands clenched in his lap. The small flame in your heart sputters and grows, roaring to life and heating your heart in a joyful fire. You are now sure he loves you back. He sends you a strained smile, trying to be encouraging. 

“That's, um, wonderful!” The servants giggle behind him, trading secret smiles hidden behind their hands. 

“So, when will I meet this wonderful man?” The emphasis on wonderful makes you want to laugh, and you choke back your giggles as you continue. 

“You know him.” Confusion flashes across his face. “I do?” The staff is muffling laughter behind their hands, but Chan remains ever oblivious. You smirk. “Yes, very well.” 

You think he might be the only person in the room, stuffed to the brim with castle staff, that hasn't gotten it. His brow furrows as he thinks. “Is it Lord Brandish?” You emphatically shake your head. He frowns. “I really can't think of anyone else…”

Your head butler coughed, running a hand through his perfectly combed silver hair. His voice is resigned as he speaks. 

“It's you, sire.”

The room is dead silent. Chan stands, his eyes wide as he turns to the head butler. “Really?” The butler nods, and Chan turns again, tripping over the leg of the chair and crashing onto the bed, narrowly avoiding your soup. Your head maid rescues the food from your lap and you grin as Chan blushes, pulling himself into a sitting position. His voice is uncharacteristically shy as he speaks. 

“Is it really me?” Your beaming as you nod and a hopeful smile lights up his handsome face. You throw the covers off your legs and stand, your feet hitting the soft carpet with a thud. 

Chan takes your hand in his own, and bows before you, bringing his full lips to it. Your heart pounds as he presses a delicate kiss to it. He straightens to his full height “I love you more than you can imagine.” Someone coos in the background, but all you can see is the handsome man in front of you, your hand still clasped in his. He drops your hand, and you feel his hand heavy on your waist, his other hand coming up to caress your jaw, tilting your head up. His voice is so soft as he speaks. 

“When I looked into your eyes, my heart felt like it would escape my chest and run into your arms.” Your own heart feels the same, and you wonder if you might die. He's closer to you now, and all you can see is him. Around you, the servants begin to creep out giggling and smiling as they leave. The door shuts behind the last of them but neither of you notice, too caught up in each other's eyes. His voice is raspy now, and his gaze drops to your lips, darting back up to your eyes and back down. “At that moment… I knew I loved you.” 

He's so cheesy, and if any other man was saying such sugar-coated words, you would laugh in his face. But when Chan says it, your heart pounds in your chest and your cheeks burn with the fire of your heart. You suppose everything is different with him. His breath hits your lips, intermixing with your own as he comes ever closer. His voice is a whisper when he speaks. 

“Can I kiss you?” You smile, your hand winding around to grip his shoulders, as you reply. “Please kiss me.”

And so he does. 

♔♕♔

Your wedding is a joyous occasion, the townspeople clap happily, and as you kiss your new husband, under a rain of lilies, clutching the precious flower in your hands, you think back on what an odd set of events had preceded it. To think, in a way, you had your mother to thank for your husband. After all, it was she who brought Chan into your life, her death that had indirectly caused the two of you to have an opportunity to become closer and her magic mirror that pushed you to go trecking into the woods in the first place. And as the joyous wedding bells rang through the air, as you and Chan boarded the carriage and sat side by side, your head on his shoulder as the driver whipped the horses into a trot, you found it in yourself to be thankful to her. For although she had caused you a great deal of pain, in the end it had shaped you into the person you were today, a person full of flaws, yes, but those flaws just made you human. 

“Why are you so quiet. Having second thoughts?”

You giggled, and snuggled closer into your husband's strong embrace. “I would never.” You replied, and tilted your head up for a kiss. 

And as your lips locked, and you drove off into the sunset, you were sure this was the happiest you had been in your whole life, but you knew, there were only happy days to come. 

♔♕♔

taglist: @angieknght, @moasworld, @lofasofabread, @smhlino, @elizalabs3, @orrrgannnic

[helplesslyblue77]

Stray Kids-Fairy Tales with a Twist

a series of fics, each one focusing on an individual member, and placing them into classic fairy tales, each with their own little twist for flavor 

They will come out one at a time, at a random pace, but hopefully i'll be done by september(But with me its hit or miss)

and most of these will have smut

So why dont you sit down, and listen to my tales...

“Once upon a time, in a far away Kingdom...”

Bang Chan...Snow White

“Years ago, your father had died and your mother had remarried. You never liked your step father, simply because he was not your real father, and you made no secret of your dislike. Many years later, your mother died and your step father became the temporary reigning monarch. You vowed the feelings you were feeling were anger, but when you fall prey to a mysterious curse you realize maybe those feelings weren't hatred after all…”

Completed!

Lee Minho...The Little Mermaid

“Merpeople have been disappearing, and your Father, King Triton, gives you a mission. Go to the surface and investigate. You are excited to explore the surface, but upset that you have to be accompanied by the Sea Witch Ursula’s son, Lee Minho, because you think he hates you. But bad things are brewing on the horizon, and you will need all the help you can get, maybe even from the man you ‘don't like’…”

(Coming Soon...)

Seo Changbin...Little Red Riding Hood

It's your birthday and you're on your way to visit your grandmother in the woods. Your mother always told you never to stray from the path, and you had listened, never following the clever words of the wolf. But maybe the wolf didn't want to eat you, maybe he was just lonely…

(Coming Soon...)

Hwang Hyunjin...Beauty and the Beast

You are an enchantress, and long ago, you had punished a spoiled prince with a curse. He would turn into a beast until he felt true love’s kiss. Many years later, you finally decide he has suffered enough and send a sweet girl named Belle to help the cursed prince. But for some reason, the beast refuses to fall in love with her and keeps trying to talk to you…

(Coming Soon...)

Han Jisung...The Frog Prince

Once upon a time while gathering wild mushrooms for dinner, you find a peculiar golden frog. You decide to keep him, not knowing that the frog is actually a cursed prince. You carry on with your daily life, musing about how weird your new pet frog is, until one day, you slip and fall, accidentally placing a kiss on his warty forehead…

(Coming Soon...)

Lee Felix...Cinderella

Once upon a time, you had lived a happy life, with your loving mother and kind father. You had been best friends with a sweet boy who would come to visit you every day. But one day, it all changed. Your mother fell ill, and soon after passed away. The boy suddenly disappeared and your father remarried. Your step mother was kind to you at first, but as soon as your father would leave on his merchant trips, she and her daughters would bully you, forcing you to do all the chores. One day, you hear of the prince's ball. In hopes of meeting a nice man and escaping from your stepmother's house you try your best to go. When you arrive at the masquerade, you are fortunate to dance with the prince. But you have the strangest feeling you have met him before… 

(Coming Soon...)

Kim Seungmin...Rapunzel

Once upon a time, a beautiful princess was born, with golden locks that shined brightly. Fearing for her safety, the king and queen entrusted their daughter to a powerful witch friend, to keep her safe and hidden until she came of age. Years later, on Rapunzel's tenth birthday, a prince came knocking on the tower, mistakenly informed that Rapunzle was much older, and trapped by an evil witch. You quickly drive him away, after explaining the story but for some reason he keeps coming back and bothering you…

(Coming Soon...)

Yang Jeongin...Hansel and Gretal

You are a powerful witch living deep in the forests, whose only wish is to be left alone. One day, a young girl and her older brother venture into the forest, trying to escape their evil stepmother. They both eat part of your candy house, and to apologize, the boy agrees to be your housecleaner for a few months. In return, you promise to help them with their evil stepmother. You try to keep your distance from the boy, but for some reason, hes always following you around, trying to get your attention…

(Coming Soon...)

(This announcement post was mostly made so that i would guilt myself into actually finishing all of these stories, because if i don't leave a record somewhere, i probably won't finish this series to completion.

Oh yeah and the summaries for these might change slightly, i never quite stick to my plans. Don’t worry though, the basic themes will be the same)

[helplesslyblue77]

do you ever just have to many unfinished fic ideas?

like i have an idea for a monster fucker fic but i cant decide what member to use for it(my first inclination was Felix or Jisung but ive already written stuff for them and it feels unfair, my secound idea was mark lee but i feel like i would just simplify his character and not do it justice because ive just gotten into nct...or i could do seungmin or minho but i feel like i would oversimplify them and/or i dont quite know them well to write about them and---)

and then i also have this idea for a more subby member fic but i cant decide if i wanna do Felix or chan or bangchan and again, ive already written stuff for them and it seems unfair but this theme doesnt quite fit for any of the other members and/or i dont feel confident in writing them and---

anyway...its fucking three am and im having a mental breakdown lol

[helplesslyblue77]

bro i cant survive without ao3, i might shrival up and die without my fanfics

[helplesslyblue77]

Something 'Bout You

Chapter 2: The Roomates, And Jerk #1

“Jisung! Seungmin! Jeongin! I'm home!” You're met with the concerning sounds of crashing from the living room, followed by indigent shouting. 

“Seunmin, you can't shove me, that's cheating!”

“SeUnGmIn yOu CaNt sHoVe mE—”

Another crash erupts from the living room. Then more shouting. 

“This is Mario Kart, there are no rules.”

“Bitch, that doesn't make any sense—”

“Jeongin! Don't let such filthy words escape your mouth—”

Looks like your roommates are home. All of them by the amount of noise coming from the living room. You take your time, knowing that nothing dangerous is happening there.

“Be careful, you're going to knock over Noona’s pretty vase.”

“I am being careful, I'm always careful—”

Seungmin’s laughter sounds from the living room, followed by another crash and a grunt. Then the sound of shattering glass. You pray for your vase. 

“Seungmin, look what you did.”

“Noona’s going to be so mad.”

“Hurry. Jisung, pass me the garbage bags, maybe she won't notice it's gone.”

You smirk, practically gliding into the living room. 

“Notice what's gone?”

Three equally guilty faces greet you.

They're crouched on the floor, the TV still showing the highlights from the game. Gathered shards of broken glass and crushed flowers littering your carpet, like three toddlers that just broke their mother's favorite wine glass. In a way, they are.

You sigh. It's to be expected, living with two men, that this stuff will happen, and it's gotten worse. Jeongin, bless his heart, is unbelievably clumsy. Although from the shouting it sounded like it was Seungmin this time. You put your hands on your hips, glaring down at them. 

“So…who did it.”

Jeongin and Jisung slowly back away from Seungmin, pointing accusing fingers at him. 

“It was him,” Jisung says, now safely hiding behind the couch. Seungmin glares at them, betrayed. 

“How could you do this to me, after all the stuff I know you guys did.”

You frown, “What? Did you guys break anything else?”

The two boys hiding behind the couch trade glances, then leap into action. 

“Actually Noona, it was all of our fault, we accidentally, um, crashed into the side table and knocked over the vase.”

“All of you? At the same time?”

“Yeah…haha…totally. Right guys?”

“Yeah yeah, that's right Name.”

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at the side table. 

“The side table is only a foot wide.”

“We…uh…we were all huddled together! Yeah, that's it!”

They avoid your eyes guiltily. You feel a bit guilty. Whoever did it, it was an accident, and they kind of look like kicked puppies right now. It tugs on your heartstrings.

“Whatever, just clean up the mess ok? I'm sore from the gym, so I'm gonna go sit down.”

They nod, scrambling up for the mop and broom. 

You sink into the chair, watching them.

It was certainly eventful, living when two, now three male roommates. They were usually easy though. They were relatively clean, very kind and for some reason, none of them had ever brought anyone home.

It was kind of a mystery, to be honest, they were such handsome dudes, you figured they had people lining up for them. But apparently, you were mistaken. 

Honestly, if they weren't your roommates, you would have hooked up with them, in an instant.

But you had a strict policy: 

‘No Fucking friends, No fucking Roommates, No Fucking Instructors, No Fucking Coworkers.’

Any of these relationships could be potentially ruined by one your life, or someone else's life or just make things plain awkward. So for your sanity, you tried your best to follow them.

Honestly, that policy was starting to screw you over, but your will remained strong. You even had a sign in your room reminding you.

Jeongin tapped your shoulder, sending you a shy smile.

“Um Noona, I'm sorry about your vase.”

You pat his head, he is such a cutie. 

He meets your eyes, his own pretty ones curving up with his smile. 

“You said you were sore…from the gym? If you want, I can give you a massage…”

He trails off, his ears flushing shyly and you swoon. He's so adorable. You wish you had a little brother like him! Sohee was so lucky. 

“I'd love that Jeongin. Thanks, you're such a dear.”

His smile lights up his face, and he takes your hand, escorting you to the sofa and gesturing for you to lie down. 

You giggle and oblige as he climbs on top of you, crouching over you as he begins to work circles into tight shoulders. It feels heavenly and you don't notice the…ehem…interesting sounds you let out. 

Distantly, you hear the clatter of someone dropping a broom. But you're much too far gone to notice. 

◻◻◻

Jisung has that evil little brat pinned. He might have fooled you with his innocent act, but Jisung had seen that man's search history. He watched balefully as he climbed on top of you. Damn that brat was smart, he had gotten to you first. 

Jisung was sure the brat was only doing it as an excuse to feel you up, not out of actual concern. 

Now if he was doing it, he would do it properly, and not as an excuse to feel your pretty body…absolutely not…no way…

You let out a sound, and Jisung’s soul rockets out of his body and into the stratosphere. 

“Oh, Ah.”

Seungmin’s broom clatters to the floor.

“Ohhhh, Jeongin that feels so gooood.”

Yep, they're all going to hell. 

“Jisung, you're drooling.”

Jisung glares at Seungmin. “Maybe whip that dumb look off your face before you talk to me like that—”

“Guys be quiet, let Noona enjoy her massage.”

That little brat. Jisung and Seungmin form a temporary alliance. 

“So Name.” Seungmin starts. “How did your day go?”

You still have your eyes closed, but you open your mouth, your words interspersed with little moans. Jisung does his best to focus on your words and not the…um…other sounds that leave your mouth.

“Well, in dance class, Instructor… ooohhh …Instructor Park paired me with That Jerk Hyunjin, for a dance assignment! He litera… ohhhh Jeongin…right there!… He literally knows that jerk hates me and he still pared up! The good news is—”

You stop, interrupted by a particularly loud moan, and Jisung clutches the mop in his hands hard enough to break the cheap plastic handle. 

He's just sexually attracted to you, he tells himself. Seungmin seems to read his mind. He scoffs. Jisung glares and sinks into the armchair.

“Anyway, the good news is that Instructor Park agree to let Felix —”

You almost moan the name, and Jisung wishes you would moan his name like that. Wait no he doesn't—

“Anyway, I emailed him and he said he’ll add Felix to the dance so we Quote ‘won't kill each other.’. Have you met Instructor Park? He’s literally so fine, if he wasn't my teacher id—anyway, he always seemed like he knows something I don't, but the… .ohhhhhh yeahhh …the good news is that I won't have to stand Hyunjin all alone.”

You turn to him, opening your eyes slightly and Jisung subtly pulls the throw blanket over his lap. 

“And after that, I had a class with Chan, then I went to the gym. Oh yeah! Have I told you guys how fine my new Gym Coach is? His name is Changbin and he's so sexy… Yeah Jeongin, do that again!… like I'm not usually into muscles, you know? But I'd totally let this dude throw me around with those sexy arms of his and… ohhhhhhh …anyway, what were you guys doing?”

Seungmin jumps in. “Oh nothing much, just playing some games.”

You giggle, “And apparently destroying my expensive vase, the one that was a gift from Sohee before she left.”

“We’re very sorry, Name.” Jisung wines, sending you his best puppy eyes. 

You smile at him, “I know, I'm just teasing you Jisu uUNG ohhh —”

You cut his name off with a moan and Jisung thinks that's the sexyest thing he's heard in a while. And he is an avid porn connoisseur. He saves the sound away for later. Seungmin glares at him and Jeongin hops off you. 

“All done, Noona.”

He speeds off, and Jisung chuckles to himself. If he wasn't so jealous he would feel sorry for the poor man. You stare after him in confusion. 

“Why did he run off so fast?”

Neither of them answer you so you shrug, letting the subject drop. 

The three of you sit in silence for a moment, before you shriek, hurriedly standing up and racing to your room with a shout. “SHIT I HAve wooooooooork…” Fading off into the distance. Soon your back changed into your work uniform, and grabbing your purse as you run out the door. You send Seungmin and Jisung a wave. 

“See you guys later, don't break anything else.”

The door slammed behind you. 

Seungmin smirks. 

“Your sooooooo in love with her, it's sad.”

Jisung hits him with a pillow. “Touche Bitch.”

Seungmin stares sadly at the front door, and Jeongin joins them.

“You know how much competition we have right? Chan and Minho have known her way longer than we have…”

Jisung groans. “And she thinks she hates Hyunjin but…and of course, she's always talking about how Felix is such a ‘Cutie’…”

Jeongin sighs, flopping onto the couch. “And then there's this new guy…Changbin…”

Depressed sighs fill the house, Seungmin falls onto the couch you had abandoned, his head hitting the cushions. 

“Even Instructor Park and the other one…Instructor Jung have us beat. Even though they would never date her.”

“Yeah, she’s always going on and on about them, have you two ever met them?”

“No, but Noona also talks about Mr. Min, the Instructor in charge of the volunteer orchestra too. She says he's—” Jeongin holds up his hands, his fingers making parentheses in the air. “Like hella cute but super sexy you know? And his hands—”

Seungmin giggles. “We’re so lucky those three are professors…”

He lets the sentence trail off and the three men flop back onto the couch, with matching sighs. Jisung speaks up. 

“We should make a club. The ‘people who have a crush on Name’, Club.”

No one laughs. 

“It's funny, you can laugh”

“Jisung, it's not funny when it's real life.”

◻◻◻

You love almost everything about your job. You work in a quaint little cafe, and you know you're lucky to have scored the job. The owner, another handsome man in his late twenties, had hired you right off the bat. 

“You're cute, the customers will like you. And you're nice.”

So, you had been handed the job. You had asked one of the senior workers, Jennie, about it and she had just shrugged. “Mr. Wang works in mysterious ways.”

You loved the atmosphere of the cafe, with its quaint flower boxes and checkered table clothes. You loved talking to the friendly regulars you got, in short, you loved everything about your job.

“You're doing it wrong, loser.”

Well, almost everything.

You sent the sweet lady at the cash register a smile. 

“That will be 7.50. Have a nice day.”

She smiled back and took her coffee and scone and went to her table. 

You turned to Minho, the customer service smile melting off your face. “Jerk. What are you talking about?”

He smirked. “You have to repeat the order to the customer, you know that.”

You want to slap that stupid sexy smirk right off his face. 

“I know that. And I was about to right until you interrupted me—”

“Alright you two, that's enough.” 

Your coworker, Jennie smirks. For some reason, she and your other coworkers always have these stupid smiles painted across their faces like they know something you don’t. 

Everyone who works at the cafe is unfairly attractive, and sometimes it makes you feel a little insecure. But then you remember, you work here too…

Mark, your other coworker comes over from the back, and he and Jennie exchange grins.

You glare at them balefully. 

They giggle, sending little smirks in your and Minho’s direction. Mark grabs Minho, and drags him off into the back, sending you a wave. 

Jennie accosts you by the cash register. 

“So girl, what's the deal with you and Miho.”

You grimace. “There's no ‘Deal’ and don't we have customers?”

Jennie gestures at the mostly empty cafe. You sigh, she got you there. 

She stares at you expectantly. 

You poach a muffin from the display, handing her half. 

“I've known him forever, he's such a jerk.”

She just giggles. “You think he's handsome…right?”

You frown. “No, he's an ugly jerk.”

“Sure.”

“Id literally rather fuck a doorknob than him.”

“Uh, huh.”

You lean closer to her, and she bends down. 

“Fine, I maybe used to have a small, tiny, miniscule crush in high school—”

Jennie interrupts you with a squeal. You shush her. 

“But he turned me down, really rudely too, so I got over it.”

Jennie frowns in confusion, but you glance at the clock, sending her a wave. 

“It's time for me to clock out! Bye!”

With record speed you shed your apron and grab your things, running out the door. Jennie waves after you, laughing to herself behind the counter. 

Mark joins her by the counter, and the two of them watch as Minho grabs his coat, chasing after you. 

"He's whipped." Yeonjun, the next shift watches as Minho grabs your arm, speaking. Jennie giggles as you shake him off, stomping away. He follows you like a lost puppy. 

"She doesn't notice." Jennie grabs a slice of cake out of the display. "All those dumb comments are just plays for attention."

She glares as Mark takes the cake away, putting it back into the display. "The man can't flirt, it's bad."

Yeonjun grabs the same slice of cake, taking a bite it before Mark can take it away again.

"You say that like you would do ay better." he dances away from Marks halfhearted smacking and Jennie laughs again. Even if you dont realize it yourself, your life is so interesting. 

She, as a harmless spectator, can't wait for things to heat up. 

[helplesslyblue77]

Good God Let Me Give You My Life

Chapter 2: A New Wind Blows

“What about this?” Jiho asked you, holding up three stacks of summer robes. You nodded at her.

“Yes, I'll take those as well.” She nodded, adding the last of your clothes to the bag and nodding at the maids. They began loading the bags into the carriage. You watched them, feeling a deep well of sadness in the pit of your stomach. You were leaving the home you had lived in for the entirety of your life. Leaving your family, your friends, and the familiar scenery for the cold unforgiving wall of the palace. 

“Name, I have something for you.” you turned your eyes to Jiho as she motioned for you to sit next to her.

She had several books spread out in front of her.

Her gentle hands picked up the first one, flipping to the first page and leaning over to show you.

The page was filled with incantations, recipes, and colorful pictures. They were magic books. You could see little notes from your sister in the margins, hasty scrawls, and little doodles.

These were her books. You felt yourself tear up as you tackled her in a hug. She laughed as you gripped her tightly, her familiar scent of jasmine and rosewood intoxicating your senses. 

When you finally pulled away she began to explain each one and its uses.

“These ones are protective charms,” she said, holding up three brown books, their covers quite well worn.

“The easier ones are toward the beginning but the harder ones are the strongest. They usually need something special though. These ones are Phantom encyclopedias.” She held up a stack of foreign books, bound in rich black leather. You let your fingers run across the fine seems, they were expensive and quite well made. 

Jiha handed you those before passing you two more books, these more well-worn like the Protective Charm ones. “These are casual charms, the basics you know.” you took them from her, opening to a random page. You recognized some of these, each girl was required to learn free-hand charms in school. 

The last book she handed you was white, and foreign-bound. As soon as your fingers came in contact with the soft leather you felt a thrum of energy race up your spine. That ever-so-familiar voice purred in your head, and suddenly, he was beside you, his warm body curved into your own. You felt solid bands of corded muscle against your side as he leaned in, his breath caressing your ear. The familiar subtle heat thrummed under your skin, as it usually did in his presence. You felt his fingers caressing your cheek, your jawline…

He was only there for a second but when he touched you, heat culminated in your stomach and you wanted…something…

And then it was all gone. The room was normal again and the only thing remaining was the residual heat in the pit of your stomach. Your sister frowned, her gaze trained on the book in your hands. The cover had gone from pure white to a deep lavender purple, gold lettering shining in the candlelight. 

You studied it, turning it around in your hands. The leather felt foreign under your fingertips, it thrummed with a familiar heat, and the longer you came in contact with it the room around you grew hazy. Hurriedly, you put it carefully into the bag with the other books.

“That’s weird…when I received it, nothing like that happened.” your sister was frowning, confused. “But anyway, that's your Phantom guidebook. It should list all the spells and special characteristics of your Phantom. Among other things.”

You nodded, filling that information away for later. 

She reached behind her and handed you one more book, this one brand new.

“This is my special gift to you.” she smirked and leaned close, “I think you’ll enjoy it,” she said, tucking it into your bag, winking at you.

You stared at her, confused as you heard a choking sound behind you. You turned, to see a red-eared Taehyung clearing his throat. You turned back to your sister, even more confused. She just laughed, standing up. 

“You're going away Banquet is soon,” she said. “And don't forget, you still have to select the maids you want to take with you.” 

You tackled her in a hug and she laughed, clutching you tightly to her chest. “I love you,”

You murmured against her as she stroked your hair. She held you for a long time, before she gently pushed you away, giving you one last kiss on the forehead and leaving you alone.

Well mostly alone, Taehyung still stood by the door, a little awkwardly.

You told him to sit down, “Tell me about yourself, we're going to be spending a lot of time together.” He obliged you, setting down gingerly on the other side of the table, facing you. 

He really was unfairly beautiful, he looked almost like one of those marble statues you had seen in your sister's illustrated books, a god walking among mortals. All the brothers were beautiful, but Taehyung had this ethereal quality about him, while Hobi had a more playful handsomeness about him. And of course, there was your new fiance with his almost cute look about him. 

You started with a question. “How old are you?”

He looked at you, answering. “I'm nineteen.”

“Oh, you're the same age as me!”

An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Fortunately, before it could last too long, he broke the silence. 

“Are you ok?”

You looked at him. “What do you mean, I'm fine. Where is Hobi?”

He stared at you for a minute before he let it drop, answering your question.

“Hobi had duties to attend to today. That's how it's going to work. We will switch off guarding you, so one of us will be around you at all times. Tomorrow is Hobi’s turn.”

“So you'll be around me at all times?”

“Yes.”

“Even when I sleep.” 

Taehyung seemed to sense your embarrassment as he reassured you, “Don't worry, we will be hidden from your sight. You probably won't even notice us.” you nodded, reassured, and stood up, motioning at him to follow you.

“Would you like to join us for dinner?” you asked. He nodded and you noticed his eyes light up at the mention of food. Well, you knew how to win your way into his heart. 

♜♜♜

Your farewell banquet was a grand affair, celebratory dishes lined the large table, and everyone was eating, the maids, the servants, and even the elders had made an appearance, dragging themselves from their retirement.

The table was laden with delicious dish after delicious dish and the different scents joined each other in the air, creating a mouth-watering aroma of spices and decadence.

But even with the celebration in the air, you could feel the melancholy drifting about the room.

Taehyung could feel it too as he sat silently next to you, eyeing the hotpot directly in front of him. God, it looked good, you cooks had outdone themselves. He was considering offering them a job in the palace when your mother stood up, clapping her hands together. Everyone turned their eyes on her as she began to speak.

“Welcome everyone, thank you for coming on such short notice.”

Taehyung looked around the table as she continued, noting the way everyone's eyes focused on her as she spoke. He admired your mother, she was clearly well respected among the elders. It was clear in this family, the matriarch stood at the head. 

He turned his attention to you as she continued.

“This banquet is in celebration of my beautiful daughter, who had been given the honor—” her gentle voice hardened for a minute “To enter the palace and become the Empress.” he watched as your hands trembled in your lap, your face never changing for a moment. Your older sister reached over, laying her hand gently on top of your own. 

“And while this is a celebration.” your mother continued.

“It is also a sad affair, for I am saying goodbye to my daughter. Everyone, let us raise a glass and toast to Name.” you finally smiled as cheers filled the air, and Taehyung felt relieved for a moment.

You looked so pretty when you smiled, he thought, face all alight with joy. You were always pretty, but when you smiled it lit up your entire face. He wondered what it would be like to be on the receiving end of that smile.

The logical part of his brain grasped at these thoughts, confused, but then everyone was digging in and you subtly moved the hotpot toward him and he banished all thoughts of his brother's bride from his brain and dug in. 

♜♜♜

The maids you ended up selecting were the ones who had served you since childhood, the ones you trusted with your whole being. Jiha and your mother had been pleased with your selection, as you hugged them goodbye for the last time.

You watched as Taehyung handed your mother and father their visitor passes, and suddenly everyone was crying. Sukja was clutching your skirts desperately, begging you not to leave, Jiha was just as bad, and you even saw a few tears slip down your father's face as he hugged you one last time.

“Make sure to visit.” you made each of them promise as you stepped into the nondescript carriage, your three personal maids following you. Taehyung closed the door behind you and you plastered your face to the window, giving your last goodbyes before Taehyung whipped the horses into action and you were off. You let your head fall onto the senior maid, Ei Rei’s comforting shoulder, she held you tight, her warm comforting scent lulling you into a calmer state.

A familiar weight fell on your lap and Jimin was there, still his animal form, though he was a much smaller black cat with lavender eyes. He licked your hand playfully and you laughed, stroking his soft fur hesitantly. 

Ji-A began to sing softly, her sweet voice calming your nerves further. The three maids you had chosen had been with you since childhood. Ei Rei was older, her black hair interspersed with streaks of gray. She was kind but stern, often scolding you gently. She was an old friend of your mother's and you trusted her indefinitely. 

Ji-A and A Young, the other maids you had chosen were significantly younger, Ji-A was your age and the two of you had been raised together, you had played together as toddlers and she was basically a second sister to you. She had a special talent for makeup and a soothing voice and she and A Young got along wonderfully. 

A Young was a few years older than you and a close friend of your older sisters, you had memories of her as a young girl, reading to you and playing with you. She had a talent for styling and clothes and was always cheerful and bright, a joy to be around. You truly couldn't have picked better maids to accompany you on your new path in life. You watched the brilliant sunset as Ji A’s soothing song rang through your ears. 

And soon, you had reached the palace. The great iron gates were drawn apart, and your carriage rolled to a stop and an unfamiliar soldier peeked in the window, probably verifying your identity. But it all went without a hitch and soon your carriage had rolled to a stop outside the Empress's sprawling palaces. There was a gentle knock on the door and Taehyung poked his head inside. 

“We have arrived, Lady Name,” he said.

You shook your head at him, “Just Name is fine.” you said as you took his offered hand and descended from the carriage steps.

Your maids followed behind you and you heard the rustling sound as they gathered up your book bag and followed you and Taehyung as you entered the sprawling grounds of the Empress's quarters. 

It was twilight, the crickets chirping and the sun finally slipped behind the distant hills and the sky lit up with stars.

It was a beautiful sight, and you would have stopped to admire it if you weren't so tired, leaning against Taehyung's arm heavily as you made your way up the path and into your quarters. You collapsed in your bed, hardly noticing when your maids brought in your clothes. You stood up and changed, falling back into your bed with a sigh. God the pillows were so soft and you were so, so sleepy.

The world drifted away around you as you fell into a deep slumber. 

♜♜♜

The room you were in was hazy, the edges blurred with lavender smoke, but you could make out the vague details of the Empress's bedroom, your bedroom. Jimin stood across from you, mask still in place, perched daintily on top of your bed. You made your way over, sitting down next to him and relaxing into the bed.

For some reason, you felt perfectly at ease by his side. How peculiar. The thrumming of heat only seemed to manifest in the real world it seems.

“Hello your Majesty,” he purred at you, all suggestive smirks.

“Just Name is fine,” you replied, eyes closed. “Whatever you want, Mistress.”

You frowned a little, then dismissed it. “I remember you told Jiha you were weak…”

You said, letting the sentence trail off. He seemed to understand

“Yes Mistress, I'm not a very old Phantom so I haven't had time to recharge my power.”

“Oh…” was all you said, too fuzzy to really grasp the meaning of his words. “So, how do we recharge your power?”

He laughed like he knew something you didn't, “I don't think you're quite ready for that, my little Mistress.” he said.

Confusion laced your tone as you replied, “What? Well, there must be some way to recharge, right?”

He chuckled again, moving toward you on the bed. You let yourself fall back and suddenly he was on top of you, his eyes burning into yours. You felt that heat again, only this time it was locked in place, deep in the pit of your stomach.

Heat followed his touches as his hand caressed your face, his thumb tracing your lip, your eyes fell closed and you felt that wanting sensation deep within you like you felt hollow and needed to be filled…with something…you didn't quite understand.

He leaned closer, his face an inch from yours…

And then everything was fading away, the last thing you heard before you opened your eyes to the ceiling of your new room was his voice.

“Follow my instructions, Mistress. Follow them without question and I will be powerful enough to protect you, for a while anyway.”

♜♜♜

It was Hobi’s day to guard you, and he was as always significantly more cheerful than his brother. He greeted you happily, shooting one of his brilliant smiles your way. He followed you happily and you made your way around the palace, before reaching the large sprawling gardens.

Unlike Taehyung, he engaged you in cheerful conversation and the two of you chatted happily about random topics and you strolled around the lovely garden. 

You heard an awkward throat clearing behind you and whipped around, only to be met with your husband-to-be. He looked tired, you noticed. Neither you nor Hobi sank into a bow, you both ranked him in status. He greeted you, offering you a small smile. You smiled back, a little warily.

He and Hobi exchanged a nod of brotherly solidarity. 

In the light of day, he was much less threatening and he turned to you awkwardly. “How are you settling in?” He asked you.

“I'm settling in well,” you replied and turned to leave. He stopped you, handing you a key ring. “You are my empress and therefore have absolute jurisdiction over every person and every room in this palace,” he told you, placing the key in your hand.

“These are the master keys, Hobi Taehyung and I have them as well. Use them as you wish.” You felt the smooth metal of the keys in your hand and you smiled at him gratefully. You bowed your head and he did the same, as you and Hobi made your way out of the garden and towards the library, the man walking beside you chuckled to himself. You turned, eyeing him.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh it's nothing,” he replied, “This is the library.”

The library was huge, with walls and walls of books reaching all the way to the ceiling. A small mousy librarian sat at the entrance table, jumping to his feet as soon as the two of you entered.

He bowed, “Your Majesty, how may I help you today?” you waved him up, “Lead me to the history section please.” he rushed to obey, tripping over his feat as he led you in the right direction. 

The history section was large, organized by dynasty and you settled at the little table with the book you wanted.

‘History of the Empresses’ .

It was a huge book, and you turned to the later entries, scanning them curiously, you paused as something caught your eye. 

“Empress Wu had eight consorts, each one more handsome than the last. The most prized of all, a foreign man named ‘Felix’ with blond hair, was prized and given all the luxury he could ever ask for—”

You closed the book, confused. “Hobi…” you said, turning to him, “This book says the Empress is allowed to have Consorts?” he laughed, “Yes, Name it's an interesting story…would you like to hear it?”

You nodded eagerly and he sat down in front of you. 

“Empress Wu’s husband had thousands of Consorts, each from a very powerful family, but only Empress Wu had ever birthed him a son, so as it is, she was promoted to the rank of Empress. The Emperor respected her very much, as she was ‘smart as a whip, and just as beautiful, she was so pretty in fact that men would bow to her on the streets, begging on their knees for a mere glance from her!’ at least that's what they said.”

He grinned at you, winking.

“But back to the story. Empress Wu decided it was unfair that her husband had so many Consorts but she must remain faithful to only him. She proposed to let the Empress have as many consorts as she wishes, in honor of the great burden they undertake. The Emperor respected her a great deal and so he made it law. Other emperors after him have tried to remove it, but it's Heaven's Law and therefore unable to overturn so it's still in place to this day.” 

You leaned back against the bookshelves. “Empress Wu sounds amazing, I wish I could meet her.” you said, Hobi hummed in agreement,

“Apparently, she was the last of her family, the only one in her line to survive a brutal slaughtering by the old Emperor's father. She ruled in the golden age, right before He took over.” 

You shuddered, remembering the famine and hunger your own family had experienced.

You didn't want to relive it.

Hobi must have sensed your mood because he moved on to lighter topics, his voice teasing as he asked you, “Well Name, do you have any consorts in mind?” you blushed and laughed, not really giving it much thought and the two of you moved on the lighter conversations, as he explained the layout of the palace to you. The afternoon slipped away pleasantly and soon it was time to leave.

When the two of you arrived back at your room the maids had already set out dinner, steaming plates of Japchae and soups. For some reason, you had the odd feeling someone is watching you. You brushed it off and motioned Hobi to join you and the two of you dug into the food. 

♜♜♜

It was late when the maids finished clearing away dinner and set out the wooden bathtub, filling it with steaming water and rose petals. It felt lovely to sink into the hot water, closing your eyes as the warmth seeped into your bones.

You were still conscious of Hoseok, standing behind the screen to your right. You had insisted he stay there, the uncomfortable feeling of eyes watching you hadn't quite gone away.

You closed your eyes…and just as you were about to drift off, a hand gripped your neck tightly, choking you. You screamed and suddenly the hand was gone. Hobi was yanking the man off you, and with a quick slice, he was dead, his blood pooling on the floor.

You panted, your vision blurring as he yanked you bodily out of the water, tossing you onto the bed. 

“Close your eyes,” he whispered and you obeyed. More footsteps sounded and you heard gruff voices. “There she is…GET HER—”

You shoved your hand over your ears, curling in the fetal position. All you could hear were grunts and groans and something was being smashed and you couldn't stand it anymore. You opened your eyes.

All you could see was red.

Red on the ground. Red splashed across your bathing screen. Red dots splashed across Hoseok's face as he danced among the clumsy assailants.

It was terrifying, blood splashed against his silken robes staining his pristine white collar with blood red. But at the same time, you couldn't look away. He was so beautiful. The way he moved, practically dancing as he slit their throats one by one, his lithe body slipping around their clumsy blades and neatly slitting their throats, there were five of them, and in no time at all, they had all fallen to the floor.

The life drained from their bodies.

You turned away, as he quickly disposed of the bodies. You heard him quietly murmuring a cleaning spell, and the blood vanished. From the walls, from the floor, and from his own body.

You thought you should be scared of him but strangely enough, as he approached you gingerly, eyes closed, you felt no such thing. The weight of the day sank into you, and you felt hot tears falling down your cheeks plashing on the silken sheet beneath your bare thighs. Hobi heard your cries and pulled you gently to him, his warm arms embracing you gently as you cried. 

“Shhhh darling, everything is going to be ok.” he soothed you, running gentle hands down your back, as your sobs turned to sniffles and your sniffles to yawns.

Suddenly you were so, so tired. He gently turned you into bed, doing his best to keep his eyes above your collarbones. You were gradually lulled to sleep by his gentle stroking of your hair, the last thing you felt as you went under was a pair of gentle lips on your forehead and a whispered promise.

“Don't worry darling, I won't let anything harm you.” 

♜♜♜

Hoseok knocked on the door to your maids' room, hurriedly trying to disguise his flushed face and ruffled hair. The older woman who opened the door seemed to see right through him though.

She looked at him, “What can I help you with?” Her tone was polite but Hobi felt scolded under her gaze, and he cleared his throat hurriedly. “Name had a bit of a scare tonight. Some men attacked her in the bath.” At her concerned gaze, he quickly reassured her, “It's alright, they're all taken care of and she's asleep now. I just thought I should tell you.” the old woman nodded, reassured.

She sent him a sly glance. “She was attacked in the bath?” 

Hobi knew he was blushing, his face was probably the color of a tomato by now.

“Erm…Yeah…anyway, I gotta!” He quickly made his escape, hightailing it down the hallway and away from the kindly old woman who seemed to see right through him. He entered your room silently, noticing thankfully that the curtains were covering your bed, gauzy golden ones that obscured his vision just enough. 

He thought back to earlier. He had tried his best to keep his eyes in only appropriate places, but he was a weak man. He had caught glimpses…and then you were pressed against him as you cried against him.

Hobi felt like such a degenerate, getting turned on while you sobbed your eyes out, but he didn't think you had noticed.

Your tearful eyes came back to him, so full of vulnerability and he felt a twinge in his chest. You were probably scared and confused. You had just been uprooted from everything you knew and loved.

He promised himself then and there, as he stood beside your bed the gauzy curtains obscuring your sleeping form, that he would protect you with all of his very being. 

The large black cat sat silently in the corner, watching the young man as he stood by your bed, motionless. He watched, silent, ever tense.

It grated on his nerves, that he wasn't the one to protect you that night, he was yours and you were his. Forever. It was only the way it could be. Jimin felt a sense of possessiveness run through him and he let out a growl, rearing into his true form. 

The man at the bed sensed him, that useless human had good senses. Jimin glared at him and the man just smiled.

“She’s not just yours you know,” he said, hands still behind his back.

“And you're lying to her. She won't like that. You still haven't told her what you really are. ‘Unus Altius Somniorum’ .”

Jimin just glared. They stood in a standstill. The man and the Phantom, dislike simmering in the air. So different but yet so alike, in ways they could never know.

The tension simmered, reaching its breaking point. But before it could erupt, they seemed to come to an agreement. They nodded, and Jimin returned to the shadows, disappearing with a poof of violet smoke.

Off to consult with you in the dreamland. The only place the others couldn't touch. His place, and now yours as well. And he would keep it that way, a special place, where he could have his Mistress all to himself. He liked it that way. And it would stay that way. 

♜♜♜

Leila giggled to herself from her perch on the roof, her keen ears picking up every sound that escaped the two men below. She knew she had made the right choice, messing with the summoning circle.

Sure there were risks, but the payoff was far higher. And anyway, she had faith you could control him.

Leila’s blue eyes clouded with thought, as she eyed the dead bodies of the assailants Hoseok had tossed out the window. She could only ever see small glimpses of the future, never the full picture, but she knew what she had seen.

You would need Jimin, need them all when the time came. But in the meantime, this was going to be so much fun.

She lifted off into the air, floating above the houses, her golden locks glowing in the moonlight as she sped home, her light airy giggles drifting through the night breeze. 

[helplesslyblue77]

Something 'Bout You

posted on ao3 on 2023-06-01

reposted on tumblr on 2023-06-08

Genre: Eventual Smut, Shenanigans

Pairing: OT8! x Reader, Chan x Reader, Felix x Reader, Jisung x Reader, Seungmin x Reader, Changbin x Reader, Jeongin x Reader, Minho x Reader, Hyunjin x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k and counting

Warnings: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dancer Lee Felix , Dancer Hwang Hyunjin, Roommates Seungmin and Jisung, best friends little brother Jeongin, Gym Instructor Changbin, Enemies to Lovers(with hyunjin and minho lol)

Summary: "Chan feels that familiar stab of jealousy, he almost wished you had picked a major that wasn't apparently full of ‘cuties’. Even the instructors were hot. And of course there where your coursemate, Felix, and Hyunjin. You hated Hyunjin, so he wasn't a threat but Felix…that was another story. And of course, there are your two roommates, Kim Seungmin and Han Jisung. Lee Minho, your ‘Frenemy’(Jisung’s words not his) and your other childhood ‘friend’. Ah yes, his last and final rival(For now anyway, you seem to attract men like flies to honey), sweet, ‘innocent’ Yang Jeongin. and of course we have the new guy, Changbin or something. Sometimes Chan thinks the universe is working against him, because of course your two roommates have to be attractive men, who may or may not be in love with you. Unfortunately for them, you seem to have stuck them in the friend-zone smack dab next to him, and Felix."

Masterlist

Chapter 1: Flies to a Honeypot

Chapter 2: The Roomates, And Jerk #1

Chapter 3:

Chapter 4:

Chapter 5:

Chapter 6:

Chapter 7:

Chapter 8:

Chapter 9:

Chapter 10:

Chapter 11:

Chapter 12:

Chapter 13:

Chapter 14:

Chapter 15:

Epilogue

[helplesslyblue77]

You Can't Deny(That Beast Inside)

Genre: Smut, minors dni

Pairing: Hybrid!Felix x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Hybrid!Felix is a golden retriever, Friends to Lovers, heat - Freeform, Breeding Kink, Mentions of pups and all the usual stuff that comes(haha get it lol) with a hybrid au, Dirty Talk, hints of Sub!Felix but its mostly Dom!Felix. He gets a little posessive and crazy but we love it

Notes:

bro i love hybrid au's. they weren't something id ever seen out of the kpop fandom, and ive been in a LOT of fandoms. i wonder why thier so specific to kpop

Felix, your best friend of ten years, your lovable Golden Retriever Hybrid who always smiles and makes time for you no matter what, your crush of so many years is avoiding you. It hurts your heart to admit it but it has to be true.

It started three days ago, when you texted him, asking him to come over for your weekly movie night. You received this in response:

“I'm sorry, I can't make it this week.”

He had never, ever skipped out on your weekly movie night.

You had asked if he was ok, and he had told you he was fine, just a little sick. 

“Can I come over to help?”

You'd texted and promptly been shut down, rather harshly in your opinion. Fine, whatever. 

Ok, so maybe Felix was sick and just didn't want to get you sick as well. You believed that until you saw him at the grocery store, perfectly fine. You marched over to him, intent on giving him a piece of your mind, but to your surprise, he had practically run away from you. Without so much as a greeting. 

So you called Chan. 

“Is Felix avoiding me?”

He coughed and stuttered out. “N-no of course not, why would you think that?”

Chan was a horrible liar. 

“He ran away from me at the grocery store, and he won't answer my texts or calls.”

“He's just sick. It's not too bad, he just doesn't want to get you sick.”

You frowned, “If it's that bad, I should go over there—”

Chan interrupted you.

“No wait, he told us not to let you—”

“WHAT?”

“Wait name don't—”

That infuriated you beyond belief, so he was avoiding you huh?

You hung up, intent on giving him a piece of your mind. 

Too bad for him, you knew his address. So you collected yourself and stormed over there, opening the door with the spare key hidden under the rocks by the porch. The house was silent when you entered, storming down the dark hallway you slammed on the lights, shouting at the top of your lungs. 

“LEE FELIX.”

⊛⊛⊛

Felix felt bad about ignoring you, every minute apart from you tore at his heart, and your sad face as he had all but run away from you at the grocery store haunted him every moment.

But it was for the best. He couldn't be around you when his heat was approaching, it wasn't safe for you. He felt tense as if any minute he could jump on you and take you, with or without your permission and he would rather die than ever mess up your friendship, even if he wanted you, had wanted you for years now. 

Felix had resigned himself to being permanently stuck in the friend zone years ago, and yet he still hoped that one day, you would reciprocate his deep feelings for you, but he knew it was just wishful thinking. 

It had started years ago, these urges, and every heat since then Felix had barred alone, accompanied by only thoughts of you. It was dangerous to be near you when he was so close to his heat, your scent tempted him constantly, the pretty sundresses you wore exposed the crotch of your panties when you bent down, and Felix had to do his best not to take you over the kitchen table, in front of all of his friends.

Even if he knew they would enjoy it(Probably a little too much for their own good.)his sense of possessiveness couldn't let the other see you like that.

But it had been worse lately. You had been babysitting your younger cousin, a baby of only two and Felix had watched in agony as you practically glowed with the baby. He couldn’t help imagining the child was yours and the hybrid side of him longed to put his pups into you.

He knew you would look so good all swollen with his pups, and that was when Felix realized his heat was approaching and he needed to get away from you before he did something potentially disastrous. So he had locked himself in his room, in constant agony and accompanied only by his vivid fantasies of you.

So when he heard your pretty voice, shouting his name at first he thought it was just his fantasies. 

But the longer he listened, the more wrong it sounded. First of all, the tone was all wrong, you sounded furious and it was acconpanied by a loud slamming sound.

And then he smelled you, you're scent too fresh to belong to the small heap of your clothes he had been desperately sniffing. And then his kitchen door slammed and Felix realized you were here. In his house. Less than a wall was separating the two of you. Felix almost came right then and there, your scent overwhelming him as he humped desperately into the mattress, still fully clothed. 

You were stomping around his house, shouting his name and Felix hurriedly pulled himself out of his fantasies and bit his hand so hard it started to bleed.

The sharp burst of pain cleared his hand for a moment and he hurriedly stood up, trying and failing to hide the bulge in his pants, before giving up and taking a deep breath, exiting his bedroom.

You were furious, he could tell as you laid eyes on him, marching right up and planting a finger in his chest. Felix held his breath desperately trying not to lose it as you yelled at him. 

“Lee Felix, how dare you ignore me, your not sick—”

You were still yelling but all Felix could focus on was your pretty face, you looked so radiant when you were mad, and Felix would gladly get on his knees and worship you, let you step on his hard cock with your pretty feet or maybe you would slap him, and call him a pervert. He could be your good boy, he could do that. Or if you wanted he could beg you to sit on his face, he would gladly suffocate in your pussy.

That would feel like heaven.

Or maybe if he begged for it enough you would let him fill your pussy with cum, pumping his pups into you until you were nice and round and full, and—

“Felix! Are you even listening to me?”

Felix could help it, he let out a whimper. You frowned, finally taking in his flushed cheeks, his sweaty hair plastered to his forehead, his wrinkled clothes and most telling of all, the large bulge tenting the front of his gray sweatpants. Your eyes widened, and you stepped back hurriedly. Felix followed you, trying to be as close as possible to you, even if he knew he couldn't have you. You frowned, your back hitting the wall, and parted your pretty lips, asking him a question. 

“Felix? Are you in Heat?”

Felix pressed against you, and buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent in large gulps, trying his best to memorize it before you ran out of the house in disgust.

You shivered a little and Felix groaned as he smelt the sweet smell of arousal emanating from between your thighs. The strings holding his sanity were thin, too close to snapping as you thrashed against him, rubbing your thighs together. You shuddered and ground out a question. 

“Felix? Do you need help? I can get someone—”

“No…”

He moaned out, his voice rough and deep and you whimpered. “Only want you, please…”

His tale swished back and forth, the soft yellow fur catching on your leg and you moaned as his pretty hands gripped your thighs desperately. “You…want me?”

The question came out haltingly, your brain muddled and overcome with arousal. 

Felix nodded against your neck. “Only wanted you, always. I love you.”

You gasped at the admission, your heart full, even as your empty pussy pulsed.

Felix whined against you, the scent of arousal driving him nearly insane. He was about to tell you to leave, you needed to leave before he lost it and fucked you against the wall, but then you grabbed him by the collar, dragging him into his room and shoving him onto the bed. 

“I love you too, Felix.”

He whimpered as you pulled off your shirt and skirt, your panties and bra hitting the floor. He made quick work of his clothes, and you stared greedily at his cock, gulping. 

You realized that Hybrids had, um, bigger dicks than humans, but you had never realized how truly big he was. Just the sight of it made your mouth water desperately, and another time you would have loved to have your mouth on it but right now, you just wanted it inside you, spearing your insides and rendering you nearly dumb.

You could tell Felix wanted the same, even as he waited patiently for you, you could see his impatience in how his hands gripped the sheets, ripping holes and he desperately held himself back, trying to not look too desperate. His tail was wagging back and forth, at an embarrassing rate and all he could see was you. He couldn't believe this was even happening.

After years and years of deserted hopes and dreams of you, he tried to hold on to as he woke to a cold empty bed, you were finally his, not Chans, not Jisung's, his mate.

Felix could smell your arousal scenting the air, and the sight of your naked body was just too much for him. He was about two seconds from just jumping on you and taking you against the floor but thankfully, you ceased his torture and moved on top of him gracefully, lining your entrance up with his tip. 

You were tempted to tease him, he looked too cute with that desperate look in his eyes, his cheeks flushed and his chest heaving up and down with the effort of restraining himself, but you didn't know if you would last, your arousal driving you nearly insane with want. So you spared him, easing down slowly on his cock, taking him one inch at a time. 

He was big, and the stretch was slightly painful but the pain only served to turn you on more, and when you looked down, and saw that only half of him was inside of you, you felt yourself tighten around him. Felix knotted his hands tighter in the blankets, letting you take your time. You felt so good, so tight, the hot walls of your pussy fluttering around him and your pretty moans filling the air.

Felix still half believed this was a dream. 

It took a lot of time, but finally, he was fully inside of you. You felt stuffed, unbelievably full as he pulsed inside of you, and you nearly came there and then as you looked down, noticing the bulge denting your stomach.

Felix was almost gone by now, his hybrid side so close to taking over and all he could think about was fucking you full of his pups, filling his precious mate up completely, and fucking you until you were moaning and screaming dumbly on his cock. 

Before he was completely gone, he made sure to grip your face, turning your eyes to his own. 

“Can I let go?” 

You shuddered, and leaned in, kissing him gently. “Yes, Felix. I'm yours.”

And with those words he was gone.

He lunged forward, gripping you close to him and he pounded your pussy desperately, moans and whimpers filling the air and mixing with your own. He set a ruthless pace, his thick cock felt like it was rearranging your internal organs with each thrust and you didn't think you would ever be able to go back. He had quite literally ruined you for another man. 

“Your mine, m-my mate. The others cant have you.”

At the mention of the others, you almost stopped him, but his words were slurred and desperate, and his possessive nature turned you on. You could almost feel your thoughts slipping away like he was fucking them out of you. 

“Oh Felix, y-yes I'm y-yours…” you interrupted yourself with a loud moan as Felix picked up his thrusts, humping into you with wild abandon. 

This desperate, possessive side of your Felix, who was always sunshine and smiles was new to you. It turned you on beyond belief. You could feel your high coming, feel the tense knot in your groin as Felix fucked you closer and closer to completion. You could feel his thrusts stutter as well.

You tried to warn him. “Felix, ‘m c-coming!”

He mumbled out more nonsense, interspersed with desperate moans as he sucked possessive hickeys into your neck. 

“Make sure the o-others know your mine…fill you up with my c-cum, breed my pretty mate full of my pups…”

His hand makes its way to your clit and you scream, fingernails leaving large scratches on his back. 

His thrusts turn sloppy and he ruts into you desperately, his moans mixing with yours. 

“So pretty, always been so p-pretty, and n-now you're mine.”

You whimper, gripping his shoulders tightly. Your high crashes over you, and you clench around Felix's cock, he stutters, shoving inside you one more time, and moans as he cums. You feel his knot swell inside you, locking his cock inside you as he cums and the extra stretch makes you orgasm a second time, clenching around Felix as he lets out an especially raspy grunt. 

He seems to cum and cum, his hand making its way down to your clit, and he rubs circles into it, prolonging your orgasm. You pull him down, sealing your lips as his cum pumps into your stomach. The kiss is all teeth and tongue and as your orgasm finally dies down, Felix’s still hard cock lodged in your stomach you feel beyond exhausted. Felix collapses on top of you, kissing your neck.

He hugs you fondly, his voice almost shy as he asks you, “Be my girlfriend?”

You giggle a little, how is this the same man who fucked you ruthlessly into the bed and still has his cock lodged inside you. You can tell he's pouting against your neck so you put him out of his misery, wrapping your arms around his naked back. “Oh course Felix.”

His cock is still hard inside of you, and you can feel yourself clench around him. He sounds almost cocky as he teases you. “Are you ready for more, Baby?” 

You slap his back. “How long do heats usually last?”

He smirks, pulling away as his hands and planting a chaste kiss on your lips. 

You wiggle, clenching around him. 

“About a week.”

You moan as he flips you around, entering you again from the back even as his cum drips down your thighs, wetting the bed below you. You're in for a long week. 

originally posted on ao3 on 2023-06-04

reposted on ao3 on 2023-06-08

[helplesslyblue77]

It Felt So Wrong(It Felt So Right)

Genre: Smut, minors dni

Pairing: Step Dad!Bang Chan x Reader, Step Bro!Felix x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Step-Sibling Incest, Step Dad!Chan, Step Brother!Felix, Smut, slight degration, Daddy Kink, use of slut, Moral Dilemmas but less than youd think because the author is lazy as fuck

Notes: its very much focused on the reader and there is no m/m action cause chan and felix r related and thats to much even for me,

ok so...you know how its like 3 am and you just had a whole cryfest about how knowone will ever love you and you are obsessing over men who dont even know you exist? and then you feel dumb and take a shower and chug an energy drink while you eat Pizza and smash out like four chapters of your WIP and one very dirty convoluted oneshot????

Yeah.

Anyway i literally cannot watch any clips from Bang Chan's lives the man makes me so Delulu its not ok.

The Title is from 'I Kissed a Girl' by Katy Perry, i love that song man.

You had just turned fourteen when your mother had come home, sat you down at the table, and announced she was getting married. You had not been surprised. You wished her well and snuck upstairs while she talked loudly on the phone with her friends, hardly sparing you a glance.

Your mother seemed to bring home a new man every few years, and at this point, you barely even cared.

And she barely spared a thought for you as well. You were well-fed and had your credit card, but you lacked the love only a parent could give you. Your mother was much too caught up in her pretty jewels and visits to the country club to pay you much thought. 

She was selfish, your mother, and used her pretty face and ample figure to get whatever she wanted in life, whether it be money, clothes, or men, she could have it all. The other men your mother seemed to favor never really spared you a glance, too caught up in your mother's boob job to pay attention to her only daughter, so you really had no expectations when it came to this new man.

But when you were finally introduced, you noticed how he was different.

He looked at you, smiled at you, and acknowledged your presence unlike so many of the others had. He even brought you a gift, a pretty silver necklace with a small charm.

He was handsome, and of course much younger than your own mother. Christopher, he said his name was, and he smiled at you warmly, introducing his son to you. Felix was sweet, pretty with a smile like the sun and the two of you hit it off immediately, rushing indoors to play video games while your parents snuck off.

You pretended not to know what they were doing. 

You adjusted well to the two of them, Felix transferred into your school and you showed him around, introducing him to your friends. He meshed well into your small group and in no time at all, you were happy as can be. You hoped they would stick around, your mother tended to trade off men very quickly., tossing out the old and bringing in the new every few years.

It was the first time you could remember hoping she didn't get a new boy toy, hoping that Chris and Felix would stick around. But then, in your Junior year of high school, it happened.

You remembered the frantic call from the hospital. Felix’s hand gripped your own tightly as you watched your mother's monitor flatline. You felt guilty, like maybe you should have felt more devastated, but truthfully, you weren't that sad.

You shed tears later, however, wetting the sunny yellow of Felix’s favorite t-shirt. It wasn't the fact that your mother was gone, no, it was your stepfather's devastated face that made you sob like a baby in Felix’s arms. 

You hadn't loved your flighty, unreliable mother, but your stepfather had. Even though you all knew she had been cheating on him the last few months.

Your mother is dead now, and it was all in the past. 

It all began on that very night, the night your mother died. Your seventeenth birthday had passed barely a few weeks before and you had fingered the pretty necklace they had given you as you ate. Your mother hadn't gotten you a present, but Felix and your stepdad had, and they had spent extra time with you when they noticed your mother was ignoring you as usual.

You remembered how Felix’s pretty face had lit up with a smile when he handed you the gift, Chris subtly shoving a card across the table.

They liked to give you jewelry, and you liked to receive it. It felt nice to be dressed up and you kind of understood why your mother liked it so much. The card had a few hundred in it, and a handwritten note from both of them, telling you how much they cared about you.

You had cried later that night, curled up in Felix’s arms as usual, and thanked him over and over. He had just laughed and comforted you as always. That night, you realized how nice it was to have people who cared about you, people who enjoyed hanging out with you, and who valued the things you had to say.

You dared to think that you were glad your mother was dead, so you could have a real family, all to yourself. 

The next day, when your small family moved away from your mother's empty cold house, Chris(As he had insisted you call him) reassured you that they would always care for you that you were their family, that you could live with them as long as you wished.

You felt your cold dead heart, so hardened by your mother's uncaring attitude, begin to blossom in your chest. You noticed, for the first time, how pretty Felix was, with his blond hair and the freckles dotting his skin, how firm his chest felt from years of martial arts when he pressed you up against it. You noticed the caring way he looked at you, the way he comforted you when you were sobbing your eyes out over a dumb boy, or how he always made sure to buy you your favorite drinks from the store. 

You noticed your stepfather's dimples when he smiled at you, his muscly arms when he lifted your things and carried them into the house. You noticed the way he would go out of his way to make your favorite foods when he saw you were down, how he didn't get a new girlfriend, probably because he thought you would be upset about it.

You noticed how they cared about you, but most of all, you noticed they were men. And it would plague your mind for years to come.

It started out innocent. Your heart sped up when they came to close, dreams of kissing plump familiar lips, blushing cheeks.

But then it became worse. 

And the day of your eighteenth birthday, you awoke sweaty and panting in your bed, two forbidden names falling from your mouth. 

You had never considered them as family, not really. Chris was your mother's new toy, and Felix was more of a friend than a brother. That careless attitude was coming back to haunt you.

So you left.

Packed your bags and went off to boarding school. It gave you a break from the suffocating tension that seemed to settle over the house with the loss of your mother. It made you feel guilty, here Chris was so broken up about your mother while you thirsted about him, fantasized about him bending you over the table and taking you ruthlessly. When Felix would smile at you, asking to cuddle and all you could think about was his pretty mouth doing other things to you. 

You couldn't take it anymore. 

Your twenty-first birthday was only a few days away when you returned from, settling back into your old room and your old routine. 

Chris welcomed you back with open arms, hugging you warmly and stroking your hair. “Missed you babygirl.” He would murmur in your ear, and you tried not to shiver at the familiar nickname. 

“Missed you too Chris.” With a pat on your back, he hoisted your luggage up and disappeared inside, arms flexing.

Felix tackled you in a hug next, pressing his lithe body into your back. He'd grown while you were gone, shoulder filling out and arms flexing as he hugged you tightly in a sweet back hug. You tried not to imagine what it would feel like if he was doing something else in this position. But this was Felix, he would never even imagine anything like that. 

“Missed you Oppa.”

He kissed your neck, and you breathed in his clean scent of sunflowers and things you couldn't quite place. He smelled like home. You jostled against him, accidentally rubbing your but against him and he flinched, pulling away slightly.

You froze, it couldn't be, right? Your sweet innocent brother Felix would never…

He pulled away fully and you decided it was best to ignore it for now, so you grabbed his hand, leading him in. 

He smiled at you, and you grinned back. “Dad and I made you a welcome back dinner, it's gonna be great.”

He let you lead him inside, the screen door slamming behind the two of you. You were home.

𝄑𝄑𝄑

You loved being back. The familiar smell of Chris’s cooking, your video game nights with Felix, and most of all, having a family again. But you still couldn't shake that tension. You knew you were the problem and it made you feel guilty. It was hard to cuddle on the couch with Felix when all you could think about was riding him right on this very couch.

It was hard to work out with Chris when you just wanted him to take you in the dirty gym over the workout machines.

But then, on the eve of your twenty-first birthday, when you were all gathered around the table serving the delicious chocolate cake you and Felix had made, you noticed something. 

Maybe it was the way their gazes were focused on you, maybe it was the lighting, playing tricks on your brain, but you swore you saw a flicker of desire in their eyes. You shook it off, sighting your horny imagination, and enjoyed your cake, but you could never really forget it.

Over the next few weeks, you noticed things. Lingering glances, guilty eyes flicking away from your cleavage when you wore low-cut shirts when you had sunbathed out by the pool and Chris had come out, dragging his eyes away from your figure as he handed you a glass of homemade lemonade. Or the fact that Felix had laundry duty and some of your panties had mysteriously gone missing. 

They both wanted you, that was obvious, but lingering doubts stopped them from just taking you, taking what they wanted. They seemed to think you didn't want them, but oh how wrong they were. They just needed a little push.

So you hatched a plan.

𝄑𝄑𝄑

Your plan was set in motion on a Saturday night. Chris had just gotten back from work, and you bounced over to him, all smiles. “Hey Chris, Felix is gone, and I really wanna watch this movie.” You pouted as he removed his coat, sending him those puppy eyes you knew he was weak for. “Watch it with me.”

He nodded, like the weak man he was, and met your sweet smile as you grabbed his hand, bouncing happily over to the couch and pushing him down. “Gonna go change.”

You make sure to wear your sluttiest pj set, a silk lace tank top, and some matching undies, and bounce back downstairs, plopping yourself down and cuddling up to Chris. “Ready.”  Is all you said, grabbing the remote and starting the movie.

He coughs a little, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Aren't you a little cold? Your Pj’s are, um, small.”

You smile up at him innocently, standing up. “Maybe a little, but you're so warm.” You say, and plop down right in his lap. “There, problem solved.” You smile up at him and he smiles back tightly, hands automatically gripping your hips and adjusting you slightly.

You feel your pussy throb at that unexpected show of strength. You're going to go insane if one of your hot sudo family members doesn't fuck you this instant.

So you ramp it up. 

Pretending to be cold, you move backward, jostling around on his lap intentionally. He grunts a little, hands on your waist making butterflies flutter in your stomach.

\You're winning though, you can tell when you move a little too much, and your but brushes up against something big and hard. He winces, opening his mouth to apologize, but his words dissolve in his throat as you grind down, head falling against his shoulder. 

His voice is hoarse when he speaks, “We should stop.”

You grind your core directly on his length and you both groan. His hands move your hips, grinding them against him. He speaks again. “Tell me to stop.”

You can see the guilt in his eyes, the turmoil that wars within him so you shut him up with a kiss. 

“Chris. Fuck me.”

He tries to resist, you feel him brace to pull away, and so you move falling backward off the couch and pulling him with you as you crash to the floor. If you were less horny you would appreciate how he protects the back of your head as you fall, but at this moment you just need his hands on you, his lips on your own, his cock inside you—

So you reach up, sealing your lips in a kiss. He kisses back immediately, his tongue finding its way into your mouth. The kiss is wild, passionate, and hungry, weeks of pent-up lust and longing culminating in this very moment. 

He practically devours your mouth, hands ripping your pretty pj set in his hast as he rips it off. You whine in protest and he pulls away, kissing down your body. “Don't worry baby girl, I'll buy you another.”

Your core clenches at that nickname and you grip his hair, forcing his face down. He obliges, his hot breath teasing your wet core. His voice is a growl when he speaks. “So wet for me. Do you want my cock that much?”

You whine, bucking helplessly into the air. “Yes, want Daddy's cock.”

He chuckles, planting a sweet kiss on your clothed core as you writhe with need. “Such a pretty slut for Daddy.”

You whine and he finally pulls your panties aside, diving into your pussy like a man starved. The sounds that leave your mouth are sinful, moans and pants of his name ring off the walls of the living room.

You're so distracted you don't hear the sound of the front door slamming, Felix’s carefree humming as he makes his way down the hall, headphones blaring. 

𝄑𝄑𝄑

Felix felt guilty that he couldn't watch that movie with you, but the school called and his professor offered him a chance he simply couldn't turn down.

As he arrived home, however, headphones glued to his head, he practically skipped up the path, Happy to see you. He slammed the door open, closing it just as loudly and tromping down the hall, towards the kitchen. He was hungry, there were probably some leftovers in the fridge. He opened the door to the living room and froze, not believing his eyes.

There you were, spread out on the carpet, naked. And that was his dad between your legs.

Felix froze. He couldn't believe this. 

He had never been so jealous of somebody in his life.

It had started years ago when he had met you, to be honest. You were sweet and kind and irresistible to his teenage mind. And you liked prancing around the house in skimpy little crop tops and shorts and Felix was only a man. You were touchy too, always pressed against him and in his lap, and Felix had spent many a night huddled in his bed frantically jerking off as quietly as possible.

He still remembered that one time your little family had decided to go to the beach. Felix had suffered a lot that day, doing his best to not get hard as you pranced around the beach in that cute bathing suit, dragging him around as you usually did. And then you had asked him to put sunscreen on your back.

Felix might have died and gone to heaven that day.

It had only gotten worse and worse, and you got your heart broken by the jerks you dated. Felix knew he could have treated you so much better than those jerks, but he had accepted being there for you as you cried over those assholes, ignoring the throbbing in his chest and groin and comforting you the best he could. 

But then you had returned home from boarding school. Felix had thought you couldn't get more pretty than you already were, but you had. Your figure had filled out and you had become more confident. Your clothes had become skimpier and your legs longer and everything about you was just meant to taunt him.

You were irresistible, and he knew his dad was feeling your effect too, but to walk into this. 

Felix watched guiltily, his stomach roiling with jealousy and arousal and you gripped his dad's hair, bucking wilding into his face. He stumbled back, crashing into a coat rack. Your eyes shot up, meeting him and he looked away guiltily. 

He hurriedly bowed, stuttering out an apology, but you stopped the flow of words, crooking a finger at him. He stared at you in disbelief, and you nodded. He bounded over, ever the happy puppy and you turned over, on your hands and knees, presenting your ass to your daddy. He grinned at you, as Felix gripped your chin, kissing you sweetly as he fiddled with the zipper on his pants. You helped him, releasing him from the prison his pants had become.

Your mouth watered. How was it possible for a cock to be pretty? He was large as well and you stuck our tongue out, giving it a hesitant lick. He groaned and encouraged, you took him in your mouth, gagging around his girth. 

You moved slowly at first, getting used to his cock as his hands lodged themselves in your hair controlling your movements. You were so distracted you forgot about Chris, right up until you felt a hot heat brushing against your entrance. 

Chris chuckled darkly, the head of his cock nudging the walls of your pussy apart as he spears you open. You moan helplessly around Felix’s cock as he bottoms out, his cock impossibly deep in you.

His voice is a rasp when he speaks. “Look at you, a perfect little slut for Daddy. Taking your step-brother's cock so good.” You clench and he laughs. “You like that?”

He begins to move, long harsh thrusts that you feel in your gut, and Felix begins to fuck your face as well. You feel used, like a perfect little fuckdoll.

You love every minute of it. 

Chris leans over you, grunting those sexy words into your ear. “Look at you, taking daddy’s cock so well, like you were made for us.”

Felix’s pretty moans tangle with your own, creating a symphony of wounds. Felix speaks his voice full of wonder, “She’s so pretty, so perfect for us.” 

Chris chuckles, slapping your ass as Felis whimpers. 

You feel so full and perfect, your stomach pulsing with heat as you moan around Felix helplessly, trying to communicate with them. Felix speaks, his voice throaty. “I think she's cumming.”

Chris speeds up his thrusts. “You cumming around daddy’s cock you dirty girl?”

You moan helplessly and he chuckles, landing a harsh slap on your ass. “Felix, fuck her face. She likes it rough.” He nods, and obeys, gripping your cheeks and fucking you roughly. It's so unlike your sweet Felix, the kind boy with the sunshine smile, it makes you clench around Chris’s cock one more time. 

Chris feels it and his thrusts falter. “You want Daddy’s cum?” You nod helplessly, tears streaming down your face, muffled moans 

He flicks your clit and you come, screaming around Felix’s cock as he cums down your throat with a pretty moan. Chris grunts as he cums inside you, his thick cum dripping out of your hole as he pulls out. Felix lets your head fall forward, petting your hair as he pulls his still-hard cock out of your mouth. 

He looks up at his dad, “Can I have a turn?”

You whimper in response, pushing him down and sinking down on his length, Chris’s cum dripping out of your pussy. You both moan as he bottoms out, the stretch of a cock burning ever so slightly as he bucks up into you.

Big dick jeans run in the family it seems.

You hear footsteps and Chris grips your hair roughly, pulling your face up to look at him. Felix grips your hips and begins to fuck you down on him and you moan as Chris speaks again. “Do you like being used, pretty girl? You like being our obedient little fucktoy?” 

At your moan of acceptance, he chuckles, dropping your head and coming back around. You squeal as his fingers come in contact with your other hole, prying it open as he spits inside. Felix pulls you down into a kiss, still hammering inside you as his tongue fucks your mouth. Chris lines up his cock with your ass and without so much as a warming, bottoms out. You scream, overwhelming amounts of pain and pleasure rocking you.

You don't think you've ever taken so many large cocks at the same time.

Chris grunts, slapping your ass as he begins to thrust and matches pace with Felix as he grunts out, “Such a good little girl. Taking Daddy’s cock better than your mother ever did.”

You clench around him shamefully at the mention of your mother, your pride souring. He chuckles as Felix swallows your moans. 

“I've wanted to fuck you since you got back, Felix too. You're so irresistible, baby girl.”

Your fingers are drawing scratches in Felix’s freckled back as you clutch him tightly, Moaning up a storm as two cock drill into you, rendering you dumb and speechless.

You almost feel like they're fucking your brain out, and you clench around them, feeling that ever-present coil in your stomach tightens. 

Felix moves his hands, letting his dad control your hips and using them instead on your boobs, his lith fingers working magic on your hard nipples. You reward him by sucking hickeys into his pretty neck and he does the same, whimpering out your name as he bucks into you. You can tell he's going to cum and you are so close, almost there.

They both speed up their thrusts and Felix moves his hand, his fingers drawing small fast circles on your clit. With an embarrassingly loud moan, you cum, falling back onto Felix’s chest with a pant. 

Felix follows shortly after, pumping his cum into your greedy pussy. His dad follows not long after, with an unfairly attractive grunt.

He pulls out, and you feel their mixed seed dripping out of your fluttering holes, down your legs and onto the carpeted floor of the livingroom, dirtying your mothers favorite rug. 

Felix hoists you up, carrying you upstairs and settling you gently on his bed, stroking your hair as they clean you up. 

There's a lot that needs to be talked about, but for now, you pull them down with you, cuddling up with them as you drift off, surrounded by the people who care about you. 

originally posted on ao3 on 2023-05-29

reposted to tumblr on 2023-06-08

[helplesslyblue77]

Yes, Officer

Genre: Smut, filthy plotless smut, MINORS DNI seriosly...

Pairing: Cop!Changbin x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dirty Talk, Slut Shaming, Handcuffs, Spanking, Sir Kink/Daddy Kink/Officer Kink

Notes: seriosly this is filthy, a plotless monster.

Did i write this at two in the morning while listening to Hey Daddy by Usher. Yes.

Was this inspired by an edit I saw on tik tok of Changbin in that cop outfit from Case 143 bending Hyunjin over a table and arresting him? Yes.

Do I regret it? No.

also, heres the link:

your welcome *Quietly slinks away in emberassment*

The cold metal of the handcuffs cut into your delicate wrists, chafing slightly as he shoved you down onto the table, your ass presented to him. You whimpered as the hard surface scraped against your bare breast, rubbing delightfully against your hard nipples.

Changbin chuckles darkly, pulling your handcuffed wrists and pinning them against your bare back. 

“So pretty for me, all helpless.”

You whimper at the slight growl in his voice, and his hand lands a stinging slap on your ass. “I bet the others would be so jealous.”

As the harsh words enter your ears, the heat in the pit of your stomach increases. Your core clenches desperately around nothing and you whine. 

 You should be screaming, trying to escape, but you feel shamefully turned on, your pussy begging to be filled. You know he could fuck you so good, treat you like the dirty slut you are. 

Changbin’s muscles ripple as he grips you harder, large arms flexing as he holds you down, helpless against the table. It turns you on. 

You’re naked, your clothes discarded around the empty room, but the man behind you is still clothed, the rough fabric of his pants brushing against your unclothed core. You were bared to the world, your feet touching the ground as he bent you over the table in the center of the room, your ass on display for his greedy eyes. 

You let out a whimper as another stinging slap hits your ass, his one-handed grip around your wrists tightening as he scolds you. “Don't speak without permission, Slut.” 

You feel his hand caress your stinging ass, his large hand warm and soft. 

“Yes,” You stutter, moaning as another slap lands on your ass. 

“What did you call me?” 

“Y-yes, Officer Seo,” 

“Good girl.” His hand on your ass disappears, and soon you feel two thick fingers prodding your wet entrance. 

He chuckles condescendingly, “So wet already?” 

“Yes, Officer.” You respond. Shamefully, your body heats up, and you clench around nothing. Changbin notices and smirks, nudging one finger into your pulsing hole. 

Your pussy greedily sucks it in as you moan, raising your ass to meet him, forcing his finger in deeper. He makes a noise of surprise, “Such a greedy girl, aren't you.” He coos out as he adds another finger, shoving them in and out roughly.

The squelch of your pussy fills the room, the sound echoing around the empty walls and bare table. Your moans encourage him to add yet another finger, the fullness stretching you deliciously.

His fingers are long and thick, pounding into you well, making you feel so good. Three fingers feel good but you know his cock would feel even better. You could imagine it, his thick length filling you up completely until you were stuffed full of cock. Used like the dirty little whore you were.

The dirty thoughts made you clench desperately around his fingers and he chuckles darkly, licking his lips.

 Changbin speeds up and you whimper, “Want your cock.”

He keeps his relentless pace, his thick fingers pounding into your greedy cunt rapidly. 

“You want my cock? You're a greedy little slut aren't you.” 

You moan, your walls clenching around his meaty fingers. “Y-yes Officer, I'm a greedy Slut.”

He grunts, picking up the pace. “Sorry pretty girl, not yet. Gotta get you ready.”

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow torturous circles on the small nub. The contrast between that and his three fingers ruthlessly pounding into you makes the coil in your stomach wind tighter and tighter. You can feel your orgasm coming, creeping up on you ready to overwhelm you with sweet, sweet pleasure, but just before it snaps, he stops.

You whine, struggling halfheartedly against his hand. The stinging slap on your ass stops you. “Patience.” He grunts out. 

There's some rustling, and then the hot head of his hot cock is lined up with your greedy entrance. You whine, moving your ass in what you hope is an enticing way. Changbin just chuckles darkly. 

“Beg for it, Slut.”

You moan, your face pressed against the hard surface of the table, nipples scraping against it with each movement. “Please, Officer Seo. Fuck my slutty pussy with your fat cock.”

“Good Girl.” His reward is the slow stretch of his cock, pulsing along your walls as he pushes it in, groaning at the tightness. “O-offly tight, ugh, for a Slut.” You whimper breathlessly, his cock pushing the air out of you as he finally bottoms out. It stretches you out, the slight sting only adding to the pleasure already coursing through your veins.

You feel so full, and you bet if you looked down you could see the outline of his cock lodged in your stomach. 

One of his hands is still holding your hands behind your back, but the other caresses your ass, stroking it gently. He grunts, pulling himself out all the way before he slams back in. 

You scream, his cock rearranging your internal organs as he slams in and out, setting a brutal pace. His thick cock nudges your walls, the veins on it adding to the pleasure you feel.

Another sting on your ass as he speaks again, his voice raspy with lust. 

“Such a good slut, feel like you were made for my cock.”

Your moans and screams echo around the room as his thick cock hits that spot. Your eyes white out and you come, clenching around the thick intrusion, he continues, even as he grunts out, surprised.

“Did you come?”

You squirm as the overstimulation kicks in. “Ah–Ohhhh, sorry Officer Seo-oooooh.”

Changbin picks up his pace, “Such a bad girl, cumming around my cock without permission. I think you need a punishment.”

You can barely comprehend words anymore, eyes blurring as he pummeled into your pussy relentlessly, completely overwhelmed by pleasure and pain. You manage to stutter out a response, your words slightly slurred, “Y-yes Officer, ‘m bad girl.”

He chuckles and suddenly, you feel a pressure against your ass hole. Unconsciously you clench around his cock and he hisses, slapping your ass harshly. “Hold still slut.”

Changbin spits on his fingers and harshly shoves two into your other hole. You scream as the extra fullness overwhelms you with pleasure. His fat cock is still thrusting relentlessly inside of you, and now his long fingers are lodged in his ass, matching the pace of his hips. Your vision is flashing again, the overwhelming ocean of pleasure in the pit of your stomach overwhelms you.

You stammer out a warning.

“Off’cer, ‘m cumming.”

Changbin freezes, and you whine as his hips come to an abrupt stop. He's panting above you, clearly holding himself back as he speaks. “Beg for it, dirty girl. Beg for my cum.”

You do as he commands, your voice embarrassingly shaky and desperate with need.

“Please Officer Seo, please let me cum. Please fill my dirty pussy with your hot cum. Please–OH~”

Changbin chuckles, pleased, and resumes his harsh thrusts, his hand leaving your ass and gripping your hair as he pulls your face to look at him. 

“Cum for me.”

The coil in your stomach snaps and you scream. He leans forward, his lips devouring your own as he kisses you harshly.

His own hips stutter and he shoves in once more, his hot seed painting your insides white, marking you as his own. Your orgasm makes everything disappear, the only sensations are his thick cock lodged in your pussy, his lips devouring your own.

Changbin pulls away and collapses against you, his cock still lodged in your pulsing pussy and you sigh contentedly. You're where you belong, Changin’s perfect little cock-slut.

His forever. 

originally posted on ao3 on 2023-05-14

reposted on tumblr on 2023-06-08

[helplesslyblue77]

Reactions

nothing here yet...

Chapter Fics

Something 'Bout You

One Shots

Seo Changbin

Yes, Officer

Lee Felix

It Felt So Wrong(It Felt So Right) Feat. Chan

You Can't Deny(That Beast Inside)

Bang Chan

It Felt So Wrong(It Felt So Right) Feat. Felix

Snow White Lily