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Summer finally arrived. The weather is nice, your work schedule is cleared and you are ready for your booked vacation!
Though what happens when your journey takes some unexpected turns?
Welcome to the Summer Event of 2026 held by Smoky Quartz Flurry!
Please choose one of the many destinations for traveling including some special twists and turns. Hopefully each and everyone of you will find a wonderful vacation time (literally or figuratively) at the end of this event.
Red Marker:
You chose a city tour! Traveling to a metropolis (Los Angeles, Dubai, Rio de Janeiro, Rome, Seoul... just to name a few options). The reason you're traveling? Depending. What you'll find on your journey? A possible fling, love, something your heart truly desired!
Light Blue Marker:
You chose a couple vacation! You and your partner wanted a romantic escape from your daily lives (watching polar lights, going to Paris or Venice, going to the Maledives...)
Green Marker:
You chose a nature adventure! Far away from the city life you want to discover the beauty our planet has to give (Safaris in Africa, an Outback adventure in Australia, traveling in a camper van from South to North America...)
Orange Marker:
You "chose" a work travel! Maybe you didn't get your vacation approved or you have to use it to learn something for work or you need work to finance your travel ideas (be it learning a new language, branching out the company ties, do a work and travel..)
Dark Blue Marker:
Whatever you chose for your summer, didn't happen. Your plans? Ruined. Your location? Unknown. Maybe you got ship wrecked in the Bermuda Triangle and are now captured by the merfolk, or you unknowingly stepped through a fairy circle in Ireland taking you to another world, or you found an old artefact in the middle of the amazon which took you back in time, maybe you just met a creature you didn't think existed... the possibilities are endless!
Choose your trip wisely and enjoy your journey. Make sure to include something unexpected in your written works. If you're able to include it in your graphics as well don't let me stop you! Remember to use the network tag!
San raises his head slowly, the accompanying smirk not matching with his beat-up visage.
"You wait until my wife gets here. You're all fucked."
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥIn which Choi San, your husband and left hand to the rebellion leader, is captured by Strictland soldiers. But they have no idea that you are coming to rescue them, and you're San’s better--and more ruthless--half.
"Once upon a time, there was a bear who left his mate in their cozy cave to forage for more berries and fish, because he was a greedy bear."
Hongjoong’s eyes met yours across the roaring fire. His many rings flashed from the firelight, but it was the trickster gleam in his eyes that drew you towards his tale.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.In which Kim Hongjoong, a wandering demi-god, pays a visit to your loghouse while your husband is raiding. His intention is to spin a tale to raise your spirits, lure you into a sense of security, and then raise your furs to slumber beneath them with you. And if another god is born, what then?
Tagging @smallfrye because we had this idea sitting for years, but it always lives rent free
Hii author! I saw your post about drabble game, can you please make a drabble about jimin, the genre is smut and the troupe is office colleagues but can you make it in a law firm.💜
Title: No objection
Pairing: Lawyer!Jimin x FemaleLawyer!Reader
Summary: You've harboured a secret crush on your colleague Park Jimin for a long time, when he finally gets the courage to ask you on a date, you definitely didn't expect what happens next.
Rating: 18+ (NSFW - MDNI)
Genre(s): Smut / office au / colleagues to lovers / fluff
Warnings: Oral f.recieving / protected P in V sex / making out / groping / slightly orgasm denial / sex in the work place /
Word count: 2.2k
A/N: This one turned into more of a one shot but thank you so much for this anon, its as if you reached into my mind and found the fic I would have liked to write the most. I love your vibe. If you would like to take part in the drabble game, you can find it here: Drabble game
As co-counsel you no doubt have the best seat in the court room. Here, you get to watch Park Jimin at his finest - in his element - leading the defence. He remains quiet, some say too quiet for a lawyer. But what a lot of people fail to realise is, in his quiet…he's deadly.
He sits and listens while the prosecution produces seemingly iron-clad alibis, witness testimonies and expert opinions on the stand. When it looks hopeless for our side and he's begged by our client to make an objection, to do something, he simply lifts a finger from the desk and silences him.
While the client sweats, he sits, as cool as a cucumber in his perfectly tailored suit. You watch his side profile, the line of his nose, his full lips and chiselled jaw. His face is the type of face that should be in paintings, but you doubt even the most realistic brush strokes could do him justice. Even a sculpture made of the smoothest clay couldn't compare to his complexion. He's perfection brought to life in front of you.
He stands abruptly, his turn to question the main witness, he glances back at you throwing you a subtle wink, before asking only three questions. The stuttering responses and sudden change of story manages to absolutely destroy the prosecution's case.
Gasps from the gallery erupt around you, the judge hits his gavel on the wooden block to regain order and you lean back in your seat, astonished. It is not the first time you've witnessed Park Jimin's brilliance, but you feel it's not something you'll ever get used to. The way his mind works makes you hungry to know more of it, to get even deeper into the caverns and get lost in them.
Your heart pounds as you both leave the courtroom and when those elevator doors close leaving only the two of you in the tight space, you're met with his face looking at you from all the walls. He smiles shyly at you, a faint blush dusting his high cheekbones, so different to the calm, confident man in the courtroom, but you like that.
“We should celebrate.” He says, an uncertainty in his tone that makes you want to roll your eyes. For months you've flirted with him, hoping he'd give you even a hint if he felt the same way and at times you're convinced he does, but others where you're not so sure. You don't think you can take much more of not knowing.
“Dinner, tonight?” He asks, and before you have a chance to answer he's giving you an out, “unless you have plans, of course, then we can do it another time, you know, if you want to, and if you don't that's cool.”
You have to refrain from pinning him against the mirrored wall right then and there. When he’s nervous he has a way of making your core clench around nothing, especially as you watch his Adams apple bob against his collar when he swallows. You take a deep breath in through your nose, attempting to calm yourself.
“I would love to go to dinner, Jimin.”
He smiles, eyes widening with surprise, “Really? I mean, ok great. I'll come to your office at 5?”
Ordinarily, you'd want to go back home first and change, but you're worried he'd lose his nerve if you kept him waiting. You'll have to work with what you've got.
“Sounds good.” you reply with a broad smile, unable to hide the glee you feel.
The journey back to the office is fairly quiet, mostly discussing the next case the two of you will be working on. He already wants to start going over depositions, something that takes up a lot of time and often ends up continuing out of work hours, the only perk was spending more time with him.
You part ways, him giving you another devastating smile before heading back to your separate offices. Once that door is shut behind you, you let out a sigh of relief. Another case closed and another one to begin but all leading to spending more time with Jimin.
The last hour of work drags, you retouch your make-up, check your hair twice, and throw some gum in your mouth to freshen up before spitting it in your trash can. At five o’clock on the dot, a knock sounds on your door, always the punctual prince.
“Come in!” You call out and Jimin's face appears in the gap.
“Are you ready?”
“Sure, two minutes, let me just shut down.”
He steps in as you turn your computer off and the door clicks shut behind him. He moves nervously across the room to you as you grab your bag and round the desk.
He opens his mouth and closes it again.
“What's wrong?” You ask, worried he's changed his mind and just doesn't know how to tell you.
“I–” he pauses and takes a breath, “I want to be transparent with you, when I asked you to dinner I was actually asking you out on a date but then I started thinking I wasn't sure if you knew that or if you thought we were going out as colleagues,” he speaks very fast, eyes bouncing all over the room. “But I wanted to clarify because if you don't want this to be a date, I am absolutely fine with that and we can just go to dinner as colleagues, not a problem. Sorry if I'm making this weird, I just didn't want you to think that–”
You stride across the room, closing the space between you as he babbles on, and grabbing the lapels of his blazer you pull him into a desperate kiss. For a moment he freezes, enough to make you doubt yourself but when you break the kiss and start to pull away, he leans back in. One hand cups the side of your face and the other winds around your back, holding you in place. His lips touch yours again with a hunger so fierce it almost buckles you. You find yourself moving backwards without any thought until your calves hit the sofa, knocking you down and taking Jimin with you. In any other circumstance you would have laughed, but feeling his hands hesitantly traverse your body dissipates any humour and replaces it with a raw, consuming need for him.
“Wait,” he whispers against your mouth, “here? Are you sure?”
You chuckle and can't help rolling your eyes. “Do you always have to be such a good boy, Park Jimin?”
You're delighted to see a flush of red hue from under the collar of his shirt all the way up to his hair line.
“Don't worry,” you interject his embarrassment, “I like good boys.”
He bites his bottom lip and smiles, cheeks full of blush, “I just don't want you to think this is the only reason I asked you on a date.”
God, why does he have to be so damn sweet all the time. “How long have we known each other?”
“Three years, six months and fourteen days.” He says, so matter-of-factly your breath catches in your throat. For a moment you think he's kidding but the longer you stare at his serious expression you come to realise you are wrong.
“Do you know the hours, minutes and seconds too?” you tease.
He chuckles, looking away, “I could work it out.”
A low moan sounds in the back of your throat as you wrap your hands around the back of his neck and pull him down to you again, “You're so sexy,”
“Nerds turn you on then?” He jokes as his lips move down your cheek and find your jaw, but there's an insecurity there hiding beneath the surface you can hear it in his voice, a hope in his hesitation.
You cup his face and pull him up to look at you, “Not any nerd, just you.”
You notice the deep breath he takes, his eyes glittering with optimism, as he strokes the hair off your face.
“Jimin, I've wanted you for a long time and I really do want that date. I've been hoping you'd ask,” you pause and he begins to lift himself off you, you can see the slight panic as he misunderstands. You pin him back against you, wrapping your legs around his waist. “But please, if you don't fuck me right now, I may just loose my mind.”
A heat surges in his stare as his hungry gaze travels to your mouth, “If that is what you want, then I must obey.”
He purrs that last word so seductively your core throbs, gaining its own frantic heartbeat. Then, his lips are on you, making you gasp in surprise, his tongue slides smoothly into your mouth, dancing sensually with yours. But you can't focus when his hands skate gently along your body, sending ripples of pleasure through you.
Items of clothing are removed quickly and messily, as his mouth decorates your abdomen with invisible lip marks. He pushes your skirt up around your waist as he slides down until he's kneeling on the plush carpet, slotting his shoulders between your thighs. Hooking a finger into your lace underwear and pulling it aside, his perfect lips envelop your needy cunt, moving with such expert precision your back arches and your toes curl. The air feels like it's been sucked out of your lungs when you try to gasp for breath, and instead let out a loud moan that has him chuckling against you.
“Someone will hear you.” He says, his voice deeper than usual and thick with want, before licking a stripe up through your centre and flicking your clit at the end.
“I don't care.” You gasp, writhing beneath him, but he pins your hips down making you whine. You love this forceful side of him, taking charge and in command just like in the courtroom.
Your fingers find his hair, raking through them to get a better look at his face while he works wonders. His tongue swirls around your sensitive bud in a frenzy, and you can't catch your breath, and just as that band in your stomach begins to tighten he pulls away. His mouth glistening with your arousal stretches into a cocky smirk. Frustration leave you in the form of a growl and you sit up on your elbows, “I was just about to-”
“I know,” he cuts you off. “But I want to feel you come around me.”
He sits on his heels, pulls a foil wrapper out of his wallet and breaks it open with his teeth. Sliding it onto himself, he crawls slowly up your body, making your heart race as you lay back again. Lining himself up at your entryway, you feel him pause, begging to be permitted entry and you respond, leaning up to pull him into a heated kiss. Tasting yourself on him brings a fresh wave of arousal blossoming inside you like a flower opening up to the sun.
Gently, he slides himself inside you, your whole body feels electric, a heat rampaging through you enough to destroy an entire forest.
Unable to control yourself, you hook your legs around his waist and use your feet to push him deeper inside, encouraging him to move faster. You roll your hips to match his movements as he angles up sliding in and out of you, hitting that perfect spot.
Slipping your hands underneath his shirt, your fingernails rake along the skin of his back as you desperately chase that high. His lips explore the expanse of your throat as his hands massage your breasts and the flesh of your hips, he cannot get enough of you and you relish in it.
Your moans and his grunts fill the space, you should be worried about people hearing but you're not. Not at all.
That familiar build up starts again, expanding inside you like a balloon, your legs are tense and your toes curled. Suddenly, it pops and wave, upon wave of pleasure rush through you. Your core spasms wildly around him, milking him of his orgasm too. His thrusts turn sloppy as he returns from his high, collapsing on you and panting heavily.
“Fuck.” He says into your neck. “That was…” he struggles to find the words.
“Unexpected?” You interject giggling.
“Definitely.” He leans up to look at you, the heat and hunger sated and replaced with the usual sweet and gentle look you're used to. “But I am not complaining.”
He presses his lips to yours softly before sliding out of you and removing the condom.
You sit up, fix your underwear and straighten your skirt. While he re-adjusts himself you turn to give him some privacy, attempting to smooth down your wild hair in the reflection of one of the photographs in your office.
“I meant what I said,” you start, turning hesitantly to look at him. He watches, waiting for you to continue. “I really do want that date. I know colleagues technically aren't allowed to, but I'm up for figuring a way around it, if you are?”
He beams at you, his cheeks turning pink. “Ok, good, I was hoping you'd say that. Shall we, then?” He asks, holding his hand out for you to take.
Grabbing your purse, you take his hand and head off to enjoy a night with the man of your dreams and now, your reality.
Summary: Everyone thought finding your soulmate meant the start of your happy ending, but when yours happens to be an idol in one of the biggest kpop groups in the world all the secrets and the lies get too much. So you make a choice to put yourself first and leave. Four years on, you pick a random holiday destination to enjoy some time for yourself and who should you happen to run into?
Rating: 18+ (mature) NSFW
Genre(s): soulmate au / idol au / non idol reader / exes to lovers / angst / fluff / smut
Warnings: Talk of heartbreak, relationship break down and mentions of depression related to this / loss of close friendship / oral sex (female receiving) - not detailed / P in V unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) / creampie /
Word count: 6.5k
Beta: @lo1k-diamonds thank you so much for your always helpful suggestions
Banner and moodboard: by me
A/N: This is for @lapydiaries annual summer event 'An unexpected journey'
Taking your first mid-morning walk along the beach since you arrived here — toes sinking slightly into the warm sand and the cool breeze blowing gently through your hair — is the much needed break you'd been after. Something about the sun caressing your skin and the sea salt air makes you feel instantly rejuvenated.
Book in hand, you head to the coffee shop you'd seen when the taxi dropped you off at the apartment late last night. After a delayed flight and a stressful time at the airport locating your luggage, you wanted nothing more than to get into a comfortable bed and had definitely not felt like exploring. But after a good night's sleep, you were more than ready to begin this well deserved holiday.
The decked seating area on the beach looked like the perfect place to get lost in the pages of your novel, with a drink and a pastry. There were a few people already seated; two women chatting and giggling animatedly with each other, a couple holding hands as they looked at something on a phone and two men with their backs to you, sitting together looking out at the sea view.
Climbing up the wooden steps, you throw your flip flops down, wiping the sand off your feet before sliding them back into place and heading inside to make your order.
With the aroma of your coffee filling your senses and comforting you in its warm embrace, you relax into your seat, letting the gentle breeze dance around you. And just as you begin to fall deep into another world, you hear your name from behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, expecting to see an interaction with someone that is not aimed at you, but instead frozen in shock to find yourself looking into the eyes of someone very familiar. Your heart, feeling like it's been jump started, hammers away loudly in your ears as you stare into the large, doe eyes of Jeon Jungkook.
“Kookie?” you say quietly as you stand and place your book back down on your table.
His beaming grin has you mirroring him with your own; he always had that effect on you.
“I can’t believe it's you!” he says, pulling you into a hug, and as soon as you squeeze your arms around his neck, he lifts you off the floor and spins you around. When he returns you to your feet, you're giggling and pinching his cheeks, making him blush a little, but he doesn’t pull away, just stares at you in the same wide-eyed manner as he always used to.
Oh, fuck. Is he with him? The sudden thought has you frozen in place as your eyes dart around, landing on everyone you can see, searching for that familiar blonde hair amongst them.
“It’s ok,” Jungkook starts, “he’s not here.”
You release a breath you didn’t realise you were holding, and just that sentence is enough to have you relaxing again.
You take him in, broader than the last time you saw him, his muscular arms particularly noticeable in his tight t-shirt. No longer afraid to have his tattoo on show, you notice appreciatively.
“Come, sit, join me,” you say, taking your seat again and pointing to the empty chair beside yours, glad when he takes you up on the offer. “What are you doing here?” you ask, leaning forward eagerly, wanting to hear about everything you've missed.
“We’re shooting a music video for the lead single on our new album,” he says proudly, the wood of his seat creaking as he leans back.
“I have heard about the highly anticipated new album.” You grin as you bring your coffee cup up to your lips to take a sip.
Raising an eyebrow at you, he tries to rein in his smile but fails miserably. “So, you've been keeping tabs on us, then?”
This makes you chuckle, what did he expect? “Of course. I loved your album too, I listen to it all the time.”
His eyes widen and mouth forms into a small ‘o’, and it makes you giggle. “You listened to Golden? What's your favourite song?”
Why did this feel like a test? No matter, you would pass with flying colours. “Easy, either ‘standing next to you’ or ‘Yes or no’.”
He smirks playfully. “Ok, well, don't I feel special.”
Shaking your head at him, a thought suddenly had a rock settling in the pit of your stomach. “If you're here for the new album, that means Jimin is here too?”
He grimaces awkwardly, and a seriousness falls over his face as he studies you. “Yes, but he’s back at our hotel, training. You won’t see him here, don’t worry,” he insists, putting his hands up in surrender, attempting to ease your concern.
You fly halfway across the world, picking somewhere completely random and yet you end up in the same city as the person you’ve been avoiding for the last four years. If you were honest, are you even surprised at this point? Soulmates are drawn to each other, after all.
“How long are you here for?” he asks, fiddling with your napkin, the habit of fidgeting clearly still very prominent. Not that you've ever minded it.
“Ten days, you?”
He smiles at you hesitantly. “Just a week.”
A week. A week of looking over your shoulder and searching for his face in every person you pass. “Great,” you mumble to yourself, but when you look up and see Jungkook's sad expression, you know he caught it, and it's as if someone punched you in the gut. Guilt consumes you and a large knot forms in your stomach. “I'm sorry, Kookie, I really am happy to see you.”
Placing your hand on top of his, he grabs it and squeezes your fingers, giving you a false smile. “There was a time when we were friends,” he starts, avoiding your eyes and staring at the napkin he's ripped up into small pieces. “Do you remember how close we were?”
You nod, your lower lip trembling with the thoughts of everything you miss. “I'm sorry, I should have stayed in contact with you. I wanted to - I just…” your voice trails off, not even sure what to say at this point. Four years is a long time, how can you justify that?
“Hey, it's ok,” he strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, “I understand, I do. I know how hard it was for you to walk away. I just…I miss you.”
His words slice into you like a fast knife, so quick you barely saw it coming, and without warning, a tear escapes and trails slowly down your cheek. He sits up, sliding his chair closer to you and wipes it away with the back of his hand. “I'm sorry, please don't cry, I'm not trying to upset you,” he panics.
“I know.” Squeezing his hand tighter, you admit, “I miss you, too.”
“Jungkook,” the security member with him steps in apologetically, “we should be getting back, you'll be late for the schedule.”
He nods before turning back to you and rolling his eyes. “The dreaded schedule.” He lets out a lengthy sigh and stretches his neck, making it click. “Meet me back here tomorrow morning? I'll have more time, and we can have a proper catch up?”
Thinking it over, you know the answer before you've had a chance to weigh up the pros and cons. You can't say no to him when he's looking at you so happy and hopeful. “Sure. That would be nice.”
When he stands, you join him, and he quickly pulls you into an embrace. “I'll be here at eight,” he says quietly, holding onto you for a moment longer.
You nod into his shoulder. “I'll be here.”
He pulls back, smiling at you and pressing his lips briefly to your forehead. “It's so good to see you.”
You cannot describe the overwhelming, safe, familiar feeling he brings you.
From the moment you and Jimin had started dating, and you met Jungkook, you had instantly clicked in a different way than with the other BTS members. You and Jungkook were as close as siblings; you teased him like a younger brother, and he looked up to you like an older sister, always confiding in each other and being that shoulder to cry on in your toughest times.
The night you'd had enough and made the impossible decision to leave Jimin, Jungkook was the one who ran to your side and cradled you in silence while you cried.
He stayed at your house for weeks, cooking to make sure you were eating, forcing you to get up and do things when you were catatonic. But the two of you remaining so close made it impossible to…there isn't a word for it. Move on? How can someone move on from their soulmate? They can't.
When you find them, everything clicks into place, you become bound to one another, your souls intertwined forever. When you were with Jimin, you could breathe, you felt whole, you were happy…until you weren't.
Being the soulmate of an idol comes with its own cost, one you were more than willing to pay, for a while anyway. But after three years living your life with him, you had left.
If someone had taken a knife and stabbed you in the heart, it would have been less painful than what you felt, and so many times you ended up back at his door. Each night, comforting each other in the darkness, lips on his, body to body, searching for answers you were never going to find. And each time you left, it was torture.
Jungkook had stayed because he was worried. He went between you and Jimin, consoling both any chance he got, until you realised how unfair it was for him to be stuck in the middle. He was exhausted, dark circles permanently under his eyes, no time for anything other than the two of you. He neglected his training, his work, himself. Once you realised that, it was a huge wake up call.
You found an apartment in another country and left. You said your goodbyes to Jungkook, a final nail in the coffin and didn't look back, knowing him and Jimin would be better off without your presence hindering their lives. You plunged head first into your new city, new career, and new life for yourself. An incomplete one but a life nonetheless.
To find yourself back in Jungkook's presence has reminded you, not only of everything you miss but of everything you left behind. And you were not ready to go anywhere near that world. But being around Jungkook felt safe, comforting and loving. Things you have not felt since you left four years ago. You could enjoy it for one day, right?
“I have to go. Sorry.” He gives you a beaming grin and heads off down the wooden steps and onto the beach.
“Kookie?” you call out as quietly as you can as you follow him to the steps.
He pauses and turns to you.
“Please don't tell Jimin I'm here.”
His face falls, and he looks off, a worried expression furrowing his brow. “I can't lie to him.”
You sigh, hating the position you're putting him in, but you have no other choice. “It's not lying, you're just not mentioning it.”
He gives you a curt nod, turns and jogs off along the beach with his security, leaving you with a rock in the pit of your stomach, having a feeling you won't be able to avoid seeing Jimin the whole week.
*
After a lovely meal in a restaurant on the seafront overlooking the ocean at sunset, you went back to your bed a little tipsy, enjoying your dinner with more than a couple glasses of wine. With your eyes heavy and begging for sleep, it wasn't long before you were pulled under its blanket and dreamt of Jimin. This was a regular occurrence, but the time between dreams of him has been growing longer recently, much to your relief and simultaneous disappointment.
When your eyes snap open to the bright morning light streaming through the thin curtains, a familiar ache in your chest makes you curl up into a ball and hug your knees.
Seeing his face behind your eyes every time you close them, and the feeling of his lips against yours felt so real, you could almost taste him. Licking your lips, you attempt to savour the moment before the fog of sleep completely dissipates, leaving nothing but the harsh reality of life without him.
Glancing at the time on your phone, you have an hour before you meet Jungkook. Maybe a morning swim in the ocean would start your day off nicely.
Throwing off the covers, you head into the bathroom to brush your teeth, shower and change into your swimming costume. Then, grabbing your towel, you rush off outside, trying to leave all thoughts of Jimin behind and back in that bed.
The whole stretch of sand as far as your eye can see is pretty empty, only a handful of people are already out. Finding a spot to leave your towel and belongings is easy on the vacant beach, then you race off into the water. As the tide laps over your feet, you give yourself a moment to adjust to the temperature; not freezing but not warm yet either, before heading further in. By the time the water’s up to your waist, it almost takes your breath away, but the bright sun, already fairly high in the sky, warms your skin. Diving in, you swim through the gentle current. There's something different about being in the ocean, something that makes you feel at peace. When you start to get really tired and out of breath, you turn on your back and float, staring up at the sky and searching for shapes in the clouds.
“Care for company?” You recognise Jungkook's voice instantly and sit up to tread water as he glides towards you.
“You're early,” you reply with a grin.
He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “Are you still as good a swimmer as I remember?”
“No,” you say, shaking your head, “I'm better.”
He arches a brow at the challenge. “Alright, first one to touch that buoy wins.” He points to the bright orange marker ahead.
Grinning widely, you agree, “You're on. Three, two, one, go,” you countdown quickly, hoping for a headstart, but he's on your tail in an instant. You remain in the lead up until a metre from the finish, and he swoops past you. But determination takes over, and you find yourself grabbing his shoulders and clambering onto his back. He shouts out to you and tries to knock you off, but this only makes you cling on tighter as you burst out laughing. He chuckles as his head sinks below the surface until he finds his bearings and powers through the water with you on his back, leaning forward, legs tight around his waist. Just as he's a foot away from the buoy, you lunge forward at it, touching it a couple of seconds before he does.
You erupt into cheers, watching the grin on his face broaden further.
“You cheated, that doesn't count,” he argues, splashing you in the face with water, making you gasp.
“I beg to differ, all you said was ‘first one to touch the buoy’. There were no specifications or rules, therefore - technically, it was not cheating.”
He rolls his eyes, a silent admission of his defeat, but before you can say anything else, he lunges towards you, grabbing you around the waist, lifting you and throwing you back into the water.
After a few minutes of playing around in the water, you both begin to head back to the shore.
“I came here early hoping to catch you,” he says, still trying to catch his breath as you wade through the water together. “I can't join you for coffee anymore, sorry.” He winces.
Nudging his shoulder, you say, “Hey, that's ok, I know your schedule must be crazy. Playing around in the sea will have to suffice.”
He looks down at his feet as you walk slowly out of the water, his whole demeanor no longer relaxed and carefree like he was in the ocean. His shoulders are tense, and he won't meet your eyes. Your stomach sinks, a thought lurking deep in your mind that churns away inside. “What is it, Kookie?” you demand.
He sighs. “I wasn't going to say anything, I promise,” he starts rambling, “but they all knew something was going on. They thought I'd met my soulmate, so I had to tell them. I'm so sorry.”
And just like that, the niggling thought that had been troubling you since you saw Jungkook yesterday became a reality.
“And, well, Jimin really wants to see you.”
“No,” you say, staring at him flatly. “I can't.”
He grimaces then and looks up guiltily towards the beach. Following his gaze to where you left your belongings, the world around you seems to stand still as your eyes connect with Jimin, and my god, did he look even more beautiful than you remembered, your dreams had not done him justice. His shoulder-length blonde locks, much longer than when you last saw him, move in the gentle morning breeze and suit him in a way you couldn’t have imagined. His plump full lips pull up into a smile so devastating, your knees wobble slightly as you remember the way they felt against yours in the dream you had last night. But you can’t return it. You’re already in panic mode, fight or flight. Your legs are powering you forward against your will, feet slapping against the surf and sinking into the wet sand with each step. Your heart, pounding so hard it hurts, desperate to be reunited with its other half, but you can’t do it. You can’t go through it all again.
Jungkook tries grabbing your hand, but you pull away, even after he calls your name. You can’t stop, your feet charging forward with a purpose: to get you the hell out of here.
You glance at Jimin. His smile has vanished, replaced with a worrisome brow, even his security is watching you, full of concern. When you're a couple of metres away, Jimin says your name, and it makes you pause for just a moment. It's long enough for Jungkook to swoop in front of you, hands on both your arms, and his big, dark eyes searching yours.
“I'm sorry,” he says quietly, “but I couldn't keep this from him.” He pulls you against his chest and holds you so tight you almost feel like you're not falling apart.
“I care about both of you, and I know how much you are hurting,” he whispers. “I've seen how much he's hurting, every day, and how much he misses you. Please, just hear him out.”
Closing your eyes for a moment, you think about the love of your life standing only steps away from you. You think about when you left; you didn't even say a proper goodbye, you simply said everything in the form of a letter and were gone, shutting him out completely because you couldn't deal with more than that. Maybe you owe him that much, the chance to say goodbye, the chance for closure, even though it's impossible. But then you also think about Jungkook, how he's stuck in between you both, and after everything he's done for you, you would do anything for him.
And so you nod. “Fine,” you mumble against his chest, and he releases you, looking so relieved that he looks like he might cry.
“Thank you,” he says, kissing your forehead and waving Jimin over.
Taking a deep breath to try and calm your frantic heart, you watch as he hesitantly closes the distance between you. A shy smile on his face, reminding you of that boy you first met years ago, insecure and unsure of himself but so sweet and endearing all at once.
“You can walk me back to my apartment, which is just there.” You point a little way down the beach. “That's it, nothing else,” you insist.
He nods and puts his hands up in surrender. “I hear you, I just want to talk, that's all, then I'll leave you alone.”
You know you can trust him, but can you trust yourself? Are you strong enough to hold onto your decision? You didn't feel it at this moment, not with his sweet face staring back at you so full of love. But you push that aside and throw on a shirt over your bikini before grabbing the rest of your stuff you left on the sand.
“Do you want me to stay?” Jungkook asks, eyes flitting between you both.
You look to Jimin, who gives you an encouraging smile. “If it makes you feel better, I'm fine with it.”
You and Jimin alone — the thought terrified you, but you need to strap your big girl boots on and face this. Besides, you've put Jungkook through enough.
“No, it's ok. I'll see you later, maybe?”
He nods. “I'll call you.” He gives you a grin before running off down the beach with his security, and suddenly the atmosphere changes. The air around you becomes thick and heavy, and you're sure the sun has disappeared behind the clouds, leaving a grey cast across the beach that doesn't match the warmth in the air.
Jimin walks over to his security, looking on a stone’s throw away, and has a quiet word with him, sending him away before returning to you. “Shall we?”
Nodding, you lead the way back along the sand towards your apartment. The silence is so tense it's almost choking, and in a panic, the words are out before you've fully thought about them, “What is it you want, Jimin?”
He smiles sadly, staring down at his feet. “I came to find you, you know, after you left. Four times.”
His admission stuns you and makes your feet pause.
“What? When?”
He sighs, “Every year, around the anniversary of the day we met, I'd fly to the States.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, suddenly sheepish. “I contacted someone to track you down – sorry, now I'm hearing it out loud, I realise how stalkerish that sounds.”
You let out an amused breath through your nose, unable to do more than that while still reeling at this information.
“So, if you knew where I was this whole time, why didn't you…” Your thought trails off, trying to make sense of it.
He shrugs. “I was…scared. You had already left once. And I understand why, I really do, I never blamed you for that. But the thought of knowing it was really over, of not being able to hope that you'd come back, felt too much.”
“So, every year you came to find me and then what? You'd go home?”
His cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink, that makes your heart beat a little bit faster, and he gently moves the sand with his sandal. “Every year I came, it was with the intention to beg you to come home. I'd build myself up, so sure I could do it. I'd wait until I saw you; walking home from work, going to a coffee shop, taking a walk along the river. But as soon as I'd see you, more beautiful than ever, so light and free with this new life you created, I couldn't bear to come in and ruin it. I'd imagine you going home to someone who treats you good, someone who'll move heaven and earth just to see you smile. I'd think about your job, and how you dreamed of that long before we met and worked so hard to get it. I couldn't come in and ask you to stop your whole life just for me.”
You frown, confused and irritated. “Let me get this straight. You came all that way and ran off like a scared little boy?”
He flinches at that, looking uncomfortable, eyebrows turned up in confusion as this conversation clearly isn't going the way he thought it would.
“Instead of actually doing better and offering me a proper relationship, you just left again?” Your eyes search his desperately, looking for answers, but all he looks back at you with is anguish and helplessness. “You are so full of excuses, Jimin. You always have been.”
With that, you turn and begin walking again, but he grabs your hand. “No, wait, please.”
You stop, with your back to him and your eyes focused on your apartment, and give him a minute to continue, hoping and wishing he can get this right.
You want to come home to him, you always have. You want him to be there when you get home, but you deserve to be treated right, not tossed aside as if you don't matter.
“Please, it's different this time,” he pleads, and you let out a bitter laugh.
“I’ve lost count of how many times you've said that. It's never different, Jimin,” you sigh, pulling your hand out of his and stepping away, needing to put some distance between you as you can feel yourself being pulled back in. Just being in his presence is hard enough, but looking into his pleading eyes is almost too much to stay strong.
“Baby, please, I mean it this time.” He reaches out to you again, capturing your wrist and gently pulling it back towards him. “I can't live without you anymore.”
With his words, a dark cloud rolls across the sky, hiding the sun and covering the two of you in a grey cast. Your eyes dart to the water; suddenly, the waves are choppy, and the surf creeps faster up the sand than when you were just in it. The few people who had been on the beach were quickly vacating, giving you an uneasy feeling inside. The sand dances along the beach, making elegant patterns as it moves in the brisk breeze that's whipping your hair around your face.
A rumble in the distance draws both your attention upward, staring up at the gloomy sky, before he returns his focus back to you, stepping forward and leaving only a hair’s width of space between you.
“I will do whatever it takes to have you in my life,” he says, the words so intense you almost believe every single one. But you've been here before, and you know better. “I'm sorry,” he continues, taking your hands in his, and this time you don't pull away.
As you stare back into his desperate, pleading eyes, you feel your resolve start to falter. Something about the way he's staring at you and the need you see there that makes that wall you've built start to crumble.
“I'm sorry for all the times you felt like you weren't good enough.” He continues, “I'm sorry for not listening to your needs. I'm sorry for all those nights you waited up for me, and I didn't show. I'm sorry for hiding you and lying about you to everyone who asked, even other idols, when I knew how it hurt you. I'm sorry for not appreciating you enough because I expected you to always be there. I'm sorry for letting you walk out in the first place, I should have fought harder. But I have changed and I will continue to change, to be better, not just for you but myself.” He pauses to take a breath, eyes brimming with tears that yours surely mirror. “And I know that I don’t deserve another chance of you loving me, but I'm begging you,” he lands on his knees in the sand with a thud, “please, give me one last chance to prove things will be different and that I can be the man that you deserve.”
As he looks up at you, a tear finally breaks free from the dam and runs slowly down his cheek and as it does, a drop of rain lands on your head, then another and another. Suddenly, the drops are pelting down from the sky so hard around you, the landscape is but a hazy blur.
Collapsing to your knees, you can't help but reach out and wipe that tear away with your thumb. And as you do, he leans into your touch, closing his eyes and savouring the moment. The touch of his skin has your fingers tingling, a current running from him through to you, an invisible rope pulling you in again, just as his arms snake around your waist to keep you there. You can't deny how good it feels to be here, in his embrace, feeling all worries and concerns melt away into the background. Deciding to listen to your heart, pounding so loud it's practically screaming at you, instead of your head, full of questions you can't answer yet.
Water pours down your faces, but you don't care, all that matters at this moment is you and him. A flash of bright light across the dark sky is the green light you both need as he captures your lips in a fiery kiss so heated that even the devils at the gates of hell would be jealous. Thunder rumbles loudly around you, but all you can focus on is the way his hands feel against your back, holding you firmly against his hard body, and the way his lips feel exploring yours. You let yourself fall back into your bubble of love with him, even if it's only for tonight. Slowly, your guard comes down, and you find yourself exploring his mouth more fervently as if he could disappear at any moment, just like he did in your dream last night.
The taste of his lips is better than your memory has kept all these years, and when his tongue slides across yours, it lights a fire in you more powerful than a thousand suns. You're breaking the kiss and getting to your feet in an instant, pulling him up and leading him quickly to your apartment.
Shutting the door behind you, quelling some of the storm outside, you stare at each other fixed in place. The air around you is so charged you can practically hear the buzz of electricity between you, you can feel it pulling you closer, drawing you in. He moves towards you, every slow step deliberate and giving you an out, but you don't want it. You need him.
Both of you dripping, clothes see through and clinging to skin, now feeling too tight and uncomfortable. He fingers the buttons of your shirt before he peels it away from your skin and lets it drop with a slap on the wooden floor.
You follow his movements as he circles around behind you. When you feel him pull on the ties at the back of your bikini, your already pounding heart picks up pace. His fingers trace lightly across the skin of your back, sending a ripple of goosebumps down your spine, as he returns to you. He stares at you with a want so powerful you can feel it, a heat radiating from him that teases your skin. He pulls at your bikini top stuck to your breasts, and it joins your shirt on the floor. Your nipples harden instantly as the cool air hits your wet skin.
His fingers go to your hips, at the ties on your bikini bottoms. You're growing impatient to have him touch you, really touch you, to make you feel the way he used to, but at the same time, you can't take your eyes off him. He pulls at the strings on both sides and then tugs them down before taking a step back and marvelling at your naked body with an anguished brow, teeth finding anchorage in his plump bottom lip.
“God, I missed you, baby,” he sighs, closing the space between you both and pulling you against him. He kisses you, softly this time, savouring the moment.
His hands roam your body, tracing every curve and making you shiver with desire. You mould against him perfectly, but the layer of fabric between your flesh frustrates you.
Your fingers race to his buttons with none of the patience he displayed, but with your hands trembling, the task feels impossible. You growl to yourself and opt for ripping the shirt off him instead. The buttons splat out all over the room, clicking against anything they hit.
He pulls back, surprised. “This shirt cost me a lot of money, but that is so fucking hot.” His mouth captures yours again as he fumbles with his shorts, and you try to help as he pushes you towards the bed. A mess of hands and fabric, the desperation between you both so intense, you feel like you can't breathe.
As your back hits the cushioned mattress, he falls with you, his weight above you and his naked flesh against yours, taking you back to a time when you would get lost with him for hours, exploring every part of each other. Surprising how, in one moment, you can be back there again.
You feel his erection at your entryway, begging to be let in. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you use your feet to coax him inside you. You're so needy for him, he has no problem sliding inside. As he begins to move, each thrust sending a lightning bolt of pleasure straight to you that makes your heart swell each time, his lips move along your jaw, teeth grazing your earlobe. “Say you'll stay with me.”
Your moans echo in the quiet room, much louder than the rain beating against your windows.
“Please, baby, say it,” he groans against your throat.
You can't think, let alone speak. All you want is him, every day, for the rest of your life. You can't possibly live without him now.
He picks up his pace, hips angling at just that perfect way you like, reaching just the right spot that makes your toes curl.
“Say you're mine, please,” he breathes.
As your insides pull tight, your breath ragged and heart racing, you call out his name as you unravel around him and tell him what he's so desperate to hear. ‘I’m yours, Jimin, I'll stay.”
With that, he releases himself inside you as he peppers eager kisses down your neck, and as his movements slow, he collapses on top of you, holding you tightly. He slides out of you, settling between your breasts.
“I'll talk to the company about releasing a statement,” he says gently, but in your blissed out haze, you can't make sense of his words.
“What are you talking about?” you say as you stroke his hair.
He lifts his head up to look at you. “A statement announcing I've found my soulmate.”
Your recovering heart suddenly slams back into overdrive, pounding so hard, you know he can feel it as he leans his chin on your chest. “Jimin, you can't be serious.”
He smirks at you with a one sided smile that has your core clenching around nothing. “Let me show you how serious I am.” He replies as he begins a trail of kisses across your breasts and down your stomach.
After hours of endless leg shaking ecstasy, desperate pleas and calling out names, you fall curled up against him, leaving the worries of decisions as a problem for later.
*
Waking from the deepest sleep you've had in a while to orange sunlight streaming in through the window, flashes from this morning play behind your sleepy eyelids. Your lips swollen from kissing, your muscles aching and your core sore but in the best way possible, you reach out to the other side of the bed to pull Jimin close, but your searching fingertips find nothing.
Your eyes snap open and look frantically around your apartment, could he have left already? Did he mean anything he said?
Your stomach twists anxiously at the idea of having to start life again without him, but in the midst of your spiralling thoughts, you hear a murmur of a voice in the distance. Your eyes are drawn to the double doors overlooking the beach, left ajar. Through the thin white curtains, you can see a figure standing on the porch.
Climbing out of bed and covering your naked body with your long white shirt, you wrap it around yourself and step outside. This morning's thunderstorm is a distant memory, the sand is dry and the sun hot and setting below the horizon, and the calm sea lazily laps at the shore.
Jimin stands on the porch staring at the ocean, phone at his ear, leaning on the wooden railing, his open shirt billowing in the breeze, looking picture perfect.
“Yes, ok, thanks,” he says before hanging up. Your arms wrap around his waist, pressing your cheek to his back, and he instantly holds your hands tight to keep you there.
“Good evening, beautiful,” he says gently.
“Hi,” you reply, smiling against him. He turns in your grasp, giving you the opportunity to hook your fingers behind his neck and him an excuse to grab your rear.
“I thought you'd left,” you admit, feeling a warmth tint your cheeks.
He looks pained for a minute before hooking your chin up to meet his eyes. “Without saying goodbye?”
You smile sheepishly, a sadness beginning to creep in at the thought of him leaving. Any moment yet, he'll announce he needs to go or he has a schedule, some parting excuse.
“I take it you haven't checked your phone yet,” he says, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
This makes you frown, what on earth could he mean?
“No,” you reply, bewildered.
“Maybe you should,” he says, fighting a smirk.
Breaking the embrace, you head back into the bedroom, looking in the obvious places for it, and quite quickly, you become frantic. Where the hell is your phone?
Suddenly, you spot it on the floor, sticking out from under the bed, and make a dive for it. Unlocking it, you see a usual amount of notifications, but it was the news headline that sat at the top that had your entire focus:
“Global BTS superstar Park Jimin finds soulmate.”
Your heart swells like a balloon in your chest, fit to pop as you click on the story and read.
“He's officially off the market, army!”
The tagline makes you laugh as you skim through the words. You aren't mentioned by name, but you aren't a secret anymore.
“We've not been told what that means for Jimin specifically, but in the statement released by Hybe earlier today, they assure army all members of BTS will remain together and continue preparations for the upcoming album release and world tour.”
Jimin's hands find your hips and turn you to face him. He takes the phone gently from your grasp and throws it on the bed. “I love you,” he whispers, touching his forehead to yours. And for the first time in a long time, you feel completely at peace. Everything feels how it should be, and you can't wait to start your life with him, however that might look.
san x reader, smut-romance, wc: <1k /au: fantasy / r: +21
San can see you through the window of your cabin, candles illuminating your face as you impatiently wait for him.
"Missed me, honey?"
Your face lights at the sight of him pushing your door, peeking his head teasingly. You get up and throw you arms over his shoulders. "Told you, I don´t have much time tonight, need to get back to the castle and help out."
San smiles and you melt under his warmth.
But you are serious. He gasps as you lead him to your cot and he watches you impatiently remove your blouse, letting your pretty tits free.
"Oh, you really mean it" He smiles again, but this time is not sweet. Now, he hungers.
"You´ve been thinking about this all day, today´s hunt must have been hell." you giggle as San moves quickly to kneel between your legs. He kisses you. The warmth of his arms got nothing compared to his lips. Hands go immediately to the soft curves of your tits, squeezing and feeling their weight.
You were absolutely right. He couldn´t stop thinking about them all day, and how sweet they would taste.
"That, that feels so good, San."
He groans, soft lips over your nipples. His hooded eyes look up, and he licks one of them sweetly, before moving to the other.
"You taste so good, time or not, it´s never enough."
Submission for @lapydiaries 2026 Summer event "Unexpected Journey"
Dark blue marker
*Pairing: Hongjoong x reader
*Genre: adventure, romantasy
*AU: Demon, multiverse
*Word count: 1,969
*Warnings/Rating: 16+. Very slight body horror (a brief description), past manipulation, descriptive threats/thoughts of harming someone else.
*Summary: after wasting years with your ex, calling the wedding off a week before, you take advantage of the fully booked honeymoon you paid for traveling a whole continent. Your anger and desire to get back at your ex somehow got you pulled into another realm where a charismatic demon lord likes the idea of your revenge a bit too much.
*AN: normally i do longer ones and I really could have delved into this but for now I am happy with this. Honorary tagging someone i think will love this very much. Also, i finally wrote a piece off the iconic look above. I am complete as a Hongjoong simp writer now <3
*Tags: @yourfatherlucifer , @sanjoongie
Banners and dividers made by me!
How the fuck did you get here?
That was the question, the answer one you would need to be open-minded to understand. More open minded than socially acceptable at least.
Because there was no way that they were human. Or that you were on earth. Not your earth at least. Not your realm.
How else do you explain the living walls that moved if you stared too long. How else do you explain this… pressure in the air that felt like it was seeping your soul out from your pores? How else do you explain… him.
You could almost write it off as some models or actors playing some sick and twisted game. Some method acting on an extreme scale. But there was just too much other-worldly for it to be true. There was probably even more that your human brain just couldn't comprehend right now. Maybe it never will.
The man—thing— on the throne was plenty of reason not to focus on anything else. You had been dragged to this stone like podium by 6 others, the red chains pinned to it, and then they stood equally on either side of the man on the throne. Black leathers and furs with chains and jewels of monochrome nature. Black smokey makeup like charcoal around his eyes and a cross on his lips to make him even more intimidating.
Well, the long black horns protruding from his temple and curved back much like his dark ash hair was another give away this man was not human.
He did not have to be staring you down and licking his lip like you were prey of his next meal. Or like you insulted his ancestors and was ready to skin you alive for it. Dramatic? Perhaps, but a situation for this called for dramatic thoughts.
A tall gorgeous man stood behind him peering down his nose at you with disdain, also in black leathers and furs. He had only one horn, smaller in size and almost dainty with how it swished back. The rest of his hair was pushed to the other side to accommodate the horn. It was that man that had found you, bleeding and lost in the most horrific forest you had been in.
Forest- much like the forest you had been in before coming here. But the old forests in Europe on the hiking trails that were supposedly save should not have led you here.
The supposed witch's spell book that you had been reading during a break… okay maybe that would have been the cause for this. That's on you for believing the it was just a fake tourist book in an old shop in one of the oldest most history ridden parts of the continent.
Also proves cursing your ex with the passage you read was more than just blowing off steam and appeasing your desire for revenge long enough to continue your supposedly wholesome hike.
While that might be the answer to how you got from one forest to the next, you never believed in magic or demons or whatever the fuck these men were so how could simply wishing harm for someone with an old book have you tumbling through that horrific black forest?
The man(thing) that had found you running through the black gooey vines and plants and choking on miasma(if you could call it that) leaned over to say something to the man on the throne. The other six hadn't moved a muscle, not even blinked, from their positions lining the stairs.
Whatever they were, the throne was pretty self explanatory. And for who sits on it. This man(thing) was a king of something. And you were probably his responsibility to handle.
You knew better than to think about asking for mercy. They did not seem like the type of people—or place— where mercy was a concept. It was probably laughable. If you looked like the devil incarnate, you probably would laugh in the face of a pitiful human asking for mercy too. Like looking at a cockroach squirming in chemicals as it's life is pitifully torn from it.
To your utter surprise, the first words spoken to you have nothing to do with death or mercy. "Who did you seek revenge on so deeply?"
Blinking owlish at the tall man that had spoke, your eyes were immediately drawn to the one on the throne who was now leaning forward, twisting his head as if he was trying to figure you out or like he was looking for the best angle to devour you. The look on his face implied the later. What sort of person grins like that? Like a madman who could tell things were about to get to his level of interesting. Chaotic.
Even if the one behind him spoke, you knew it was him that you were to reply to. By some… odd intuition. "Someone who deserves it."
"That's not for you to decide." One of the men(things) on the stairs barked out, narrowing their already fierce eyes on you. He was taller than the others, only equal in height to the man directly across from him, neither standing on the stairs but just before.
You glared back, your ire burning hot as you thought of the same people you considered friends take *his( side as if he hadn't done anything wrong. "That's not for you to decide either. I am the one wounded by him, not you."
"You insolent-"
"That's enough Mingi." The man on the throne spoke, silencing the room, even their breathing. "How did he hurt you? I see no scars deserving of what you wished."
"My scars-" you started, turning your burning gaze on the demon on the throne "-are of the heart and ego. A betrayal worth everything I wished upon him."
His grin somehow turned more wicked and wider, teeth growing sharp before your very eyes. "You were loyal to him?" You nodded. "But he was not loyal to you? Words, Darling, I want to hear the emotion in your voice as you recount his misdeeds."
And you did.
It was jarring how easily you opened up about your ex fiance. The man you gave much to. So many years of your life, promising your body, heart, and loyalty when you were still too naive to understand how much weight those carry. How his lies you dismissed because he, and your friends, all said it wasn't as you said. Their word against yours. How he made you believe yourself mad, that you were lucky a man like him loved you.
It took only one weekend for you to realize how much of a fool you had been. How you ignored stranger's concerns eventually because your pride demanded that after all this time, after all you had given him, that walking away would be the worst mistake of your life. It took just one weekend to realize that staying was your biggest mistake.
"The wedding was about a week out. One of my bridesmaids bragged while she thought I was drunk that she was pregnant with his kid, and that the money he made through me as my trophy husband would support that kid. And if I ever tried to stop it, that would just make me a horrible person for denying a child food." You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "I called the wedding off the next morning. Racked him with what debt I could of the event even though I paid for most of it. I was hiking through Europe since I booked it all as our honeymoon. Just me, felt like a waste.
"The real waste was all I gave him. I might be the fool who fell for it, but he's the fucking bastard that willing manipulated me. For that, he does deserve the things I curse him with. I can't get that time, that money, my dignity and self-respect back. I get to carry the scars of the wounds he left on my heart, the self-doubt he taught me is only mine to break. To make sure he never amounts to anything, that he loses all he cares for and suffers any time he starts to have hope, seems like a fair exchange. Doesn't it?"
You ended your long winded tirade with a matching tilt of your head to the demon on the throne. Because that's what he had to be. There were flashes, brief moments where the perfect pixie visage of his features distorted to one of horror. Bone and shadow.
He seemed to be feeding on your anguish over your ex. Seemed to devour your ire, maybe even encourage it with the way he leaned forward and motioned with two fingers for more.
Why you indulged it all was beyond you. If it was just because they were demons, that could be it. But you suspected it was because your pride was so hurt that you just wanted someone to be angry with you. Wanted someone to believe you when you said this man needed to be castrated and eat the detached junk. That he should vomit at the taste and choke on it.
"I like that imagery." The man on the throne said, pushing himself off the throne and making his way to you. You realized he was on the smaller side(compared to the others) and yet the energy rolling off him filled the room. Larger than life. "Let me offer it to you, your revenge."
He held his ring clad hand out, the tips of his fingers dainty but as if they were soaked in charcoal. You realized the chains that had bound you were no more, leaving you to take his hand should you wish.
Hesitating, you stared up at him with a look of skepticism. "What is the payment? I have given him much of my life that he does not deserve. I refuse to give more of myself in regards to him."
"Of course, he has given you plenty of reasons to doubt an offered hand. If I say that I will simply give you the tools to torture him for an eternity and all I ask is to watch? Would you believe me?" He tilted his head inquisitively.
You shook yours. "I need a how. Devil is in the details isn't it?"
He laughed, like a maniac giggle more than anything, almost cute in it's pitch. "Oh I really like you. Very well, we can argue the details later. How about we start with letting you enjoy a few days here for rest. After all, it is my fault you are here. I just liked the way your conviction tasted so much I couldn't help myself. It's so rare a witch's emotions entice me so deeply, or even reach me at all.
"Witch?"
"Oh… I have so much to teach you Darling. Come. You're on vacation. Enjoy it."
So you took his hand, letting him haul you up and against his chest. He was sturdy and soft, smelling like a sweet wine with just enough aged musk to be intoxicating. He chuckled as you unintentionally breath him in. "My name is Hongjoong by the way, and I am the lord of this realm."
"What realm is that?" You asked, watching as he brought your wounded palm to his lips, a pointed tongue flicking up to lick at the blood and wounds. You flinched at first contact, just to shiver at the feeling of his tongue between your fingers.
"One of the many demon realms you could say." He replied, voice suddenly heavy with something heated and husky.
It distraced you only for a moment before it hit: you were now "vacationing" in a demon realm. Huh. What a way to have a solo honeymoon.
🌕Who: Wen Junhui (Seventeen) x female reader
🌕What: Some angst. Some dark themes (check warnings). Fluff. Supernatural au. Co-workers to Lovers. Detective Junhui. Werewolf Junhui. Private Investigator reader. Human reader. 18+
🌕Word count: 10.6k
🌕Warnings: Mentions, not depictions of: murder, injury, blood, etc. Profanity. Junhui’s naked ass (in the post-shift way, not sexual way). Perceived threat: werewolf hunting/ stalking/ predator-prey things. Assumed unreciprocated feelings. There’s nothing explicit or even particularly suggestive in this, I just don’t want minors interacting with this story at all.
🌕Summary:
Although you’ve been working closely with Junhui for five years, you’ve never seen him in wolfskin, and you honestly never thought you would. You spend most of the time irritating the man for your own amusement, so you’d never expect him to willingly show you his other side.
It’s not really surprising that when you finally see the detective’s wolf form, it’s not out of choice but during a full moon when he can’t prevent the transformation, the one time you’re truly in danger of the man turning around and biting a chunk out of you. And honestly, you think you probably deserve it at this point.
It’s just a shame you never got to kiss his pretty face.
Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio, or for any of the reasons listed in this post, including blank blogs and blogs without any fics reblogged.
Masterlist
A/N- thank you @lovetaroandtaemin for your support with this! 💗
If there’s one thing that well and truly gives you joy in life, it’s pissing off Detective Wen Junhui.
Honestly, at first, it wasn’t intentional. You didn’t mean to accept so many jobs as a Private Investigator which put you right in the Detective’s vicinity so much. You didn’t mean to almost consistently take on jobs that had you stepping on his toes. You just accepted the jobs that seemed interesting to you and did the best you could; even if that meant pointing out things the man missed when you happened to be at the same place, working on the same case, yet answering to different bosses.
But then, when you realised how cute Junhui looks trying to keep his cool, how easily he flusters and loses his ability to string an intelligent sentence together when you turn up and push his buttons just right, well, you couldn’t really help but push at every chance.
Admittedly, you don’t even pay attention to the job sometimes; you read the requests just enough to get the general idea of the job, so that you can figure out if it will be a case that gets dropped on the desk of Detective Wen Junhui to handle or not. Then, once the investigation begins, you spend most of the time bouncing along close to the tall, handsome detective’s side with a pleased grin on your face as you watch him try to pretend that he’s not trying his damndest to keep his composure. His clenched jaw sure is pretty from that angle too, so that’s a nice little bonus of following him like an irritating shadow.
That being said, you never shirk your duties. Every case you take on, you do, in fact, solve; often in collaboration with Junhui. As much as he obviously wishes otherwise, the two of you make an incredible team despite not being colleagues— not when humans aren’t allowed to become cops due to how fragile they are compared to supernatural beings; you know you would’ve made a great cop otherwise.
In fact, you both have better success rates, close more cases, when you’re side by side than apart. At this point, you’re pretty much an honorary cop, and Junhui has clearly been told by his superiors to play nice with you so that fewer crimes remain unsolved— or, at least, get solved quicker.
With your entire heart, you can say that even without getting the chance to watch the tall werewolf try to not snap at you— no pun intended— on an almost daily basis, you would love your job. But getting to watch Junhui’s eyes flicker gold in that moment before he turns away from you is truly the icing on the cake.
It’s just another job, just another day of you and Wen Junhui working side by side to investigate a foul, pathetic excuse of a life form, when things get a little different.
In all you’ve worked together, in all the danger you’ve been in and fought off together, you’ve never been led into a trap like this.
The little, abandoned, underground convenience store you’re in suddenly turns dark with the clunk of a shutter closing. Even with his advanced hearing and speed, Junhui doesn’t manage to notice or move fast enough to stop it from happening; his extended hands meet the metal just as the edge hits the cracked tile flooring below.
“Well, that’s new,” you muse from where you remain in place, knowing that you don’t have a chance in hell of navigating the space without your sight considering all the stuff strewn over the tiled floor; rubbish, debris, and other disgusting items you truly don’t want to get a closer look at.
Junhui doesn’t respond, and you honestly don’t expect him to, but you do hear him huff out an extra frustrated grunt where he’s already trying to physically yank the shutter up, despite the fact that you both know store shutters are made to withstand supernatural strength.
For a few minutes, Junhui incessantly yanks and hits at the metal in his attempts to remove it. At best, all he does is make a tiny dent along the bottom edge, just enough to let a small amount of light filter in. It’s not enough to do much but let you see his feet moving around, but you still stare at it; naturally drawn to whatever allows your simple, human eyesight to function.
“Given up?” you question when the clanging stops and Junhui stumbles back a few steps. He doesn’t answer, but you do hear him let out an almost pained sounding gasp before there’s a thud of what sounds like someone dropping to their knees. “Junhui?” You’ve barely shuffled a few steps forward before he lets out a desperate sounding noise, and there’s another clank of metal as if something has hit it heavily.
“Stay back!” he demands harshly, in such a pained tone that you fall still in shock.
“Are you hurt?” you ask quietly, worried. For all you love to piss off the man, you can admit that you do care for him, quite a lot really.
It’s probably something like little boys pulling the pigtails of the girl they like on the playground, the way you treat Junhui. You like him, more than you’ve ever admitted to anyone, even yourself, and you don’t know how to handle that when he’s evidently far from open to even the mere whisper of a thought of liking you. The man doesn’t even like you as a friend, as an acquaintance; there’s no way he’d ever consider opening his heart to you in a romantic manner. You’ve known that since the start, so you’ve done what you can to shield your own heart, while still annoying him enough that he can’t ignore you or forget that you exist.
“No,” Junhui answers after a moment, though it doesn’t sound truthful; he sounds strained in a way you haven’t heard him before, not even when he got shot with a silver bullet almost two years ago now. You’re not sure he knows it, but you barely left his side for the week he laid unconscious in hospital, too scared that he wasn’t going to pull through.
“Jun–” you start, tone turning a little stern to try and convince him to be honest, though as soon as you try to move from your spot to approach, he growls, and you fall still as your heart races with sudden fear.
In all you’ve taunted the man, in all you’ve pissed him off, he has never growled at you like this. Sure, you’ve heard him growl, he does it quite a lot really, but it’s never laced with such violence, such dark warning. For the first time in the five years you’ve known the man, you’re scared of him.
You’ve always known that really, Junhui could rip your throat out, tear you limb from limb without even breaking a sweat. He’s a werewolf and you a mere human; he’s got all the upper hands where strength, speed, agility, and healing abilities are concerned. But he’s never truly lost his cool with you. He’s never even looked like he would raise a hand at you, doesn’t even drop empty threats your way. For all you piss him off, Junhui is still a gentleman at heart, and has such control over himself that you’ve always instinctively known he won’t hurt you.
Yet now, now you’re questioning that.
“I fucking said stay back!” he bellows, making you jolt at the volume of his harsh words, and stumble back a few steps; tripping over something on the floor, and landing on your ass harshly. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he rushes out, genuinely apologetic, and tone so drastically different to only seconds before that your head spins.
“What’s going on?” is all you can manage to ask as you blindly kick aside the items surrounding you where you remain on the tiles, deciding that you might as well sit down and wait until one of your colleagues realise that neither of you have checked in lately, and come to your rescue. Or whoever trapped you in here comes back to kill you, whatever happens first.
Though, you’re pretty confident that Junhui could easily take who you assume is the man you’ve been hunting down together; a fledgling vampire who hasn’t even cut his gums based on his previous victims. A pureblood werewolf will always trump a turned vampire; unless the werewolf is still just a pup and the turned vampire has at least half a century behind them. And as Junhui is a 30-year-old pureblood werewolf borne of centuries of strong werewolves, and the suspect has to have been turned into a vampire within the last six months to not even have his fangs in yet, Junhui would easily win in that fight and save both of your asses.
“Have you seriously not learned to pay attention to the fucking lunar calendar yet?” he grunts, and the metal creaks as you assume he shuffles where he’s leaning against it on the floor. A shadow flickers, so you glance at the patch of dim moonlight on the tiles only to find Junhui’s hands hovering in it, claws extended.
“It’s a full moon,” you realise, some of that fear trickling back into your body, especially when Junhui hums in confirmation and pulls his hand back out of sight, out of where you can see it and know his position. You know that if it comes down to it, Junhui could easily move so quietly that your human ears wouldn’t hear him; and with your lack of vision due to the darkness right now, you wouldn’t even know about it until his claws are buried in your flesh.
Although werewolves generally have their shifts under control and legally aren’t allowed to be out on full moons without having proven that they have the restraint to not let their instincts take over and send them on a murder rampage, you know that it doesn’t mean a lot in the first few minutes of a forced shift. And under the full moon, all werewolves have no choice but to shift into wolfskin when the moon is at the highest point in the night sky. Even if they can’t see the moon, they can’t fight the shift.
Considering the fact that you regularly go out of your way to piss Wen Junhui off, you know that tonight, your life is in real danger. As soon as he is forced out of his human form and into his wolf one, as soon as he loses himself, all that carefully controlled frustration and anger he holds for you will so easily lead his baser instincts.
“Shit,” you mutter, and he hums. “How long?”
“An hour, maybe.”
“Why did you even come down here when you knew how close the full moon is?!” you ask utterly baffled.
“Because you would’ve come alone otherwise, stubborn asshole,” he grumbles. “I’m not being responsible for a fledgling slitting your throat and draining you.”
“So, instead, you’re going to do it.” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest and rolling your eyes, well aware that the man can see perfectly clearly in the dark so will know what your reaction is.
“I didn’t expect this!” he defends sharply. “I–I didn’t think we’d get trapped like this,” his voice softens again, turns guilty, worried. “I’m sorry, I…I’m really fucking sorry.”
You sigh and let your arms unfold, dropping them to your sides. “It is what it is. After all I’ve pissed you off, I probably deserve to have my leg chewed on,” you joke softly, trying to lift the mood a little.
It works, Junhui huffs a laugh. “Pretty sure it’s not just your leg I’d chew on,” he muses.
“Have you done that before?”
“Bitten someone on the leg?”
“Mm, and in general.”
“Yeah. Never a human though, never someone that can’t easily heal from it.”
You’re quiet for a moment as you consider his words, features pinched as you think about it. “I can’t tell if that’s a kinky sex thing or not,” you admit, and Junhui chokes out a laugh. “No? Yes? Come on, tell me all about werewolf sex; this may be the only chance I get to find out!” you enthuse.
“Please don’t remind me that I’m going to lose control soon,” he whispers, pleads.
“I didn’t mean like that. I just meant I don’t exactly know any other werewolves well enough to ask; and funnily enough, they keep away from me in general anyway. Do I smell weird or something to werewolves, by the way? I’ve always mean to ask you but get distracted and forget.”
“No.”
“No? I don’t smell weird?” He makes a noise of confirmation. “Then why do werewolves specifically avoid me so much?”
“Uhm… just…probably smell me on you,” he admits quietly, awkwardly. “Because we spend so much time together for work that you smell like me; so I guess they think you’re claimed.”
“So you’re the reason I’m not getting any kinky werewolf sex!” you exclaim, going for theatrically displeased, but it can’t land right because Junhui growls softly in warning. “Alright, damn, down boy,” you mutter. “I’m just fucking around.”
“Sorry, it’s the moon.” You don’t fully believe him, something in his tone doesn’t sound entirely truthful, but you just hum and leave the topic there, not wanting to get into it and risk setting him off.
For a couple of minutes, the two of you are quiet. There’s a tenseness to it, the impending violence hanging over your heads in a way neither of you can ignore, but you also can’t do a thing about it. It’s a reluctant acceptance you share, but something makes you think Junhui’s having more trouble than you accepting it. Then again, if you knew you were about to lose control and tear apart an innocent person, you would also not want to accept it and feel the guilt weighing heavy even before the act occurs, regardless of how much said person pisses you off on an almost daily basis.
“To your right, there’s a pole, it looks like a broken stand of some kind,” Junhui’s naturally gentle tone breaks the silence, making you jerk a little in surprise, before automatically looking to your right as if you can see it. Of course, all you see is darkness. “Reach out, I’ll guide you.”
“Why?”
“Because it may be the only hope you have of getting out of this,” he reasons with a slight tremble in his voice. You can’t tell if it’s the thought of what is going to happen, his fear causing the shakiness, or if it’s the effects of the moon getting higher, closer to its peak. “Just– Please do as I say. I know you don’t like me, but just–”
“I have literally never said that,” you say, sharp as you cut him off and turn a stern look on him. At least, where you think he is; you have no way to know for sure.
Junhui hesitates before responding, as if he’s truly stumped by your words. “You don’t hate me?” he mumbles, barely audible as if he can hardly get the words out.
“What? Hate you? No way! I don’t think anyone is capable of hating you, Jun,” you retort with a scoff. “Seriously, I think even the people you arrest don’t hate you.”
“Pretty sure they do.” He chuckles.
“Well, you thought I hate you, so I don’t think your judgement here is accurate or valid.”
“In my defence, you’ve been finding every single way to annoy me for the past five years. It’s hard to think you don’t think negatively of me,” he reasons, and well, he’s got a point there.
“And in my defence, you started it.”
“How?!”
“You refused to work with me when we met, treated me as lesser because I’m a PI. If I could be a cop, I would be; it’s not my fault it’s literally illegal.”
“That’s not what I was doing at all.”
“Really?” You give him a disbelieving look that you know he can so easily see and feel the full force of— even if you happen to be glaring at the shutter over his shoulder and not directly at him, though you’re not aware of that little fact. “I distinctly remember you saying I’m not working with someone like her, the first time you were told to work with me.”
“I didn’t mean because you’re a PI.”
“No? Then what?” In the awkward silence that follows, the guilty silence, you understand. “It’s because I’m human.” Junhui sighs, and you know you’re right. “Well, fuck you, Wen Junhui! How fucking dare you look down on me because of how I was born! You’re not automatically better than me just because you’re a werewolf, so get the fuck down from your pedestal and give me the respect I deserve.”
“No, no, no,” he says quickly. “It’s not like that at all. I don’t think of humans as a lesser species. All species are equal as far as I’m concerned.” He sounds like he’s being truthful, but you don’t remove your hard expression, not able to accept his words when you really don’t know what else his issue could be. “I wasn’t refusing because I think I’m superior in anyway. Even back then, I knew you’re so smart; I had been hearing your name and praise for months before we even met and you had just started your PI career.”
Your posture unravels; expression softens to something surprised yet puzzled. “Then what was your issue?”
“You’re so fragile,” he points out, sounding almost pained to say the words, like he hates them. “I know you can hold your own against humans, you have the awards to prove that, but supernatural beings? You’re so fragile against the majority of the assholes we have to hunt down and bring to justice that I was scared I’d have to watch you die on a job one day. I’m still scared of that, terrified really. If I don’t keep a close eye on you, then they could get to you so quickly that you won’t know until you’re heading to the afterlife.”
“Oh…” You’re not sure what to say in response. Part of you wants to argue and say that he doesn’t have to worry about that. It’s not his job to worry about you; you’re not even real partners despite how often you work together and call one another your partner during work hours. But the other part of you knows he’s right. You’re so delicate compared to supernatural beings and are constantly at risk just by dedicating your life to trying to protect innocents by bringing foul beings to justice where you can. It doesn’t help how sore Junhui sounds; how it truly sounds like the thought of watching you die hurts him deeply, especially if he should’ve been there to protect you.
“Yes, so, I don’t have anything against you at all. I…think you’re a wonderful person; so intelligent and caring that it’s easy to see why you’re one of the highest sought-after PIs in the city. All the humans ask for you; it’s why I get assigned so many human-related cases, because I work with you.”
“Oh…I didn’t realise,” you admit, feeling kind of stupid for not realising that the majority of the cases Junhui picks up to work are human related. You’re so used to working primarily for humans that you forget that humans are the minority, so Junhui should actually have a lot more cases relating to supernatural beings like himself.
“Mm.”
The pair of you are quiet for a few moments as everything shared between you settles, as you both realise that maybe, you’ve both been seeing your relationship in the wrong light from the start, all because of a lack of communication and jumping to conclusions that don’t even exist between you. It makes you wonder that if you’re wrong about Junhui disliking you from the start, maybe you’re wrong about him not wanting to be friends, wrong about the assumption that he’ll never see you as a potential romantic partner one day.
It’s a cruel kind of irony that the day that hope first flutters in your heart for the man potentially gaining feelings for you in the future, is also the day he’s about to rip that very heart from your chest through no choice of his own.
A series of bitten back, pained grunts breaks the contemplative quiet. Your attention turns entirely to the present, to Junhui trying his best to fight his very nature in an attempt to protect you for a little longer.
Suddenly, you find yourself unable to keep your feelings to yourself, sensing that any minute now, you’ll be trapped with an unwilling wolf, so this may be your only chance to be honest for the first time with your affection. “Junhui, I–” you start, only for a pained yell and the crack of bones to cut you off.
Instinctively, you back up a little, your human nature wanting to escape the horrifying sound of a body being forced to break and regrow into another form. It’s truly the worst sound you’ve ever heard, and you’ve heard a lot. But perhaps, it’s more painful and gut wrenching for you to hear because you know that it’s Junhui being forced through the ordeal; the man you were on the brink of confessing the contents of your heart to.
You’ve lost your chance now, and it only takes moments, not even a full minute, for you to lose the man you’ve grown so accustomed to over the past five years.
There’s an eerie couple seconds of silence once the transformation is over; you can’t even hear Junhui’s wolf form breathing, can’t hear him moving despite the fact you know he must be. You know from research and witness accounts— and even some personal accounts from the mouths of werewolves—, that they are always so restless as soon as the full moon shift has fully taken hold and they’re in wolfskin. You know that the harder the fight it, the harder it is for them to settle upon losing the battle. Junhui should be more than just a little restless right now, unable to stay still, especially when faced with the one person who has been pissing him off for the past five years.
Although you know that he could easily move without you knowing— and had assumed he’s been doing just that—, you hear the pad of paws ahead of you, right by the shutter where Junhui last spoke to you from. Your ears prickle hotly and then zero in on the sound, tracking the almost too heavy steps, the gentle clink of claws against tile, as he moves. You want to turn to your left to try and make sure that you remain face on to him; so that, at the very least, he doesn’t attack from behind because that is somehow much scarier. Yet you know you can’t, that even trying to meet a werewolf in wolfskin face on when they’re raring for a fight is a sign of challenge; it’s even worse if they’re on the hunt, and you know that Junhui is.
Slowly, the steps circle you, keeping a steady distance as the predator stalks his prey. As your heart races in your chest, fear pumping blood almost violently through your veins, you know that Junhui can hear it; and it’s only when you think about that, that you realise exactly what he’s doing. He’s scaring you on purpose. He’s letting you hear him so that you know he’s there; so that you know that at any second, he only needs to pounce, and he’ll be on top of you, teeth buried in your flesh and bathing in your blood sprayed extra enthusiastically by your racing heart.
You know that sometimes, wolves wear the blood of their prey during hunts as a trophy, as something to show off; to show other wolves how big and scary they are considered to their prey. It’s not at all a common practise for werewolves to do where humans are concerned, purely because it’s not morally acceptable— nor legal— for werewolves to hunt and kill humans anymore; but you know they still do it when they hunt animals out in the woodlands.
Right now, Junhui doesn’t see you as a human he’s supposed to protect, just a nuisance of a creature he wants to be rid of. Wearing your blood would be a coat of honour, at least until his sane, humane mind returns, then you know it’ll be something he’ll never wash off, not really.
Although you genuinely fear being attacked from behind more than any other direction, it’s when Junhui is behind you that you suddenly recall that he had earlier tried to tell you to pick up a pole to protect yourself with. You know you’ve moved a little now compared to when he said it was on your right and he’d guide you, but you also know that it truly might be your only chance to hold Junhui off long enough for him to remember who he is. Even with a pole for a weapon, you’re still likely to get hurt by the wolf, but you would rather have a few injuries than your throat torn out; there’s no coming back from that, after all.
You try to be subtle when you shift, getting ready to lunge to your right and hope you reach in the right direction, you barely even adjust your weight, but Junhui’s steps fall still and he lets out a low, warning growl. Now that he’s been broken from his pacing, you know you can’t wait, he’ll pounce any second and you’ll have lost your chance.
Without hesitation, you lean over, reaching your right arm out blindly, and hoping with your entire being that your fingers meet smooth metal to protect yourself with, not the jagged edges of more danger than you’re already in. But they don’t get the chance.
You’ve never really faced a werewolf before, you’ve only heard stories, watched videos both real and staged of werewolves in wolfskin on the attack. You know they are capable of moving so fast, of moving so quietly that a human has no hope of knowing until they have teeth and claws tearing into delicate flesh. Yet still, it all happens so much quieter, so much quicker than you could’ve ever prepared for, could’ve ever imagined in all your fear fuelled thoughts.
It’s only a silent instant, barely a blink, barely a breath, and then sharp teeth are around your forearm.
You freeze the second you feel the wolf on your right, his mouth open around your arm, hot breath against your skin, and the points of dangerous teeth resting against your goose bumped flesh.
For a second or two, you don’t dare to breathe, don’t dare to move. Wide eyes remain glued ahead unseeing, left fingers braced on the tiles to steady you, knees aching against the tiles, and forearm hovering in midair.
And the wolf doesn’t move. Doesn’t close his jaw, doesn’t bite, doesn’t do a fucking thing. As if he’s waiting.
It feels like you’re paused for far too long, fear so thick in your body that you can barely breathe, can barely hear anything over the thundering of your heart in your chest. Yet somehow, you hear it. A soft little noise, and you react without thought, looking towards it; right at the wolf before you can realise that even if you can’t see him, he can see you and know if your gaze meets his in unintended challenge.
Despite what it means, despite how Junhui should react and bite your arm clean off with one effortless snap of his jaws the second your face turns to him, he doesn’t. He lets out another little noise, almost akin to a gentle whine, before his jaw opens and releases you. You jolt in surprise when you feel him nudge you with his muzzle, prompting you to sit back down and back up slightly.
Utterly bewilderingly, you hear him shuffle around to where you had been reaching out, and he must move the items there as you hear the clatter and rolling, the crunch and rustling of metal, litter, and other objects. Honestly, you have no fucking idea what’s going on right now, and there’s a part of you that wants to ask— even knowing a wolf can’t talk to answer— but the fear still runs thick in your veins, and you can’t make yourself do anything but sit there in terrified wait.
When Junhui returns to your side, he makes noise the entire short journey; paws patting, claws clicking, and little almost chuffing type sounds from his throat. Something about it feels like he’s telling you he’s nearing, warning you of his impending closeness to not scare you.
You still can’t see anything, but you can feel it when he stands before you, you can feel the heat rolling off his furred body; you can feel his presence, the power emanating from him. Despite that, despite the clear masses of points he has over you, the winning hand he truly holds, he lowers himself by your feet and curls around you, whining softly in deference to you. You feel his nose nudge against your hand where it lays on your thigh; without thought, you lift it, and your breath catches when his head rests on your leg. He whines again, shuffling closer, wrapping you in his protection, and you suddenly realise the truth of what this is; Junhui is protecting you, even when he should be ripping your throat out for all the grief you’ve given him over the years.
Somehow, he’s fought his very nature to do the very thing he’s always been scared he’ll never be able to do; he’s keeping you safe.
“Oh,” you murmur, exhaling, and just like that, the fear starts to seep out, your heart starts to calm.
Carefully, you lower your still raised hand to his head and lightly run your fingers through his thick, slightly coarse fur. The noise he lets out sounds pleased, so you relax into it, grow more confident, and stroke your hand over his head and back as far as you can reach; drag your fingers through his fur and scratch at his skin in patches. He seems to really like it when you rub the pads of your fingers deeply through the fur at the back of his neck, letting out heavy, happy huffs every time, so you make sure to give extra focus there.
Honestly, even if you had the ability to keep an eye on the time right now, you would still lose track. There’s something incredibly hypnotic and soothing about petting a giant wolf, especially one who seems to want to meld with your body, routinely shuffling and curling closer to you even when he physically can’t get any closer.
Even though you don’t know how long it’s been, you’re certain it’s been some time; more than long enough for your pulse and breathing to return to a calm, steady state, and for Junhui to doze off under your tender touch. You’re so content that you jump and your heart skips a few beats when Junhui lifts suddenly, standing up, and growls low and warningly in the direction of the shutter. It takes a second for your logic to beat the fear down and let you understand that the werewolf’s finely tuned senses have picked up something your own weak-in-comparison ones can’t.
Though after a few more moments, you can hear footsteps on the other side of the shutter seconds before a voice calls out. “Junhui?!” Almost instantly, the wolf growls louder in warning, and the man curses worriedly before he calls your name. “Are you okay?! We’re going to get you out!”
“I’m fine!” you reply. “Seriously, he hasn’t hurt me!”
“Really?” his tone turns surprised now, concern abruptly gone in his disbelief.
“Yeah! He’s been calm until he heard you.” Junhui lets out another warning sound, this time to you as you get up. “Shut up,” you retort quietly, and have to bite back a snort of laughter when he immediately whines and moves over to repeatedly circle you close enough that his flank doesn’t stop touching your legs. “Stop it, you’ll trip me up,” you warn. He whines again but does as told and backs off a little, though you feel him move to stand at your side so close that although you can’t feel him, you’re pretty sure his fur is brushing your clothing over your right thigh.
“Are you near the shutter?” the man on the other side calls a minute later, after you’ve heard him conversing with someone else, maybe multiple others. It’s only now that you fully recognise his voice, he must be closer to the shutter. It’s Detective Lee Seokmin, one of Junhui’s colleagues. You know the pair are friends, pretty good friends too, and you’d even go as far as to say that Seokmin could be considered a friend of yours even; he’s invited you to every party and gathering he’s hosted over the past few years, so you think that says a lot. Then again, Seokmin is a siren, and they’re pretty friendly folk with endless friends and contacts. Even without using their siren song to influence another’s feelings and actions, sirens just seem to gain the favour of pretty much anyone no matter where they go.
“No, we’re further back,” you answer, absently petting at Junhui’s back to stop him making any more low, growling warnings towards his friend. It bewilders you a little that Junhui is growling at Seokmin like this, but you don’t want to try and decode that right now and instead plan to simply ask Junhui about it tomorrow when he’s human again and able to communicate in words, not whines and growls.
“Alright, stay there, we’re going to cut the locks now. It’s going to be loud for Jun, so cover his ears for him if he’ll let you,” Seokmin warns.
“Okay!” Without hesitation, you move to kneel down beside Jun and hold his head so that you can cover his ears carefully. He whines and gently tries to shake you off. All you do is tut your tongue against the roof of your mouth disapprovingly, and he acquiesces, whimpering softly in scold as he shrinks a little in place before falling still.
It takes a couple of minutes of the grinding of metal as it’s cut, sparks jumping into view in the little dent Junhui made in the shutter earlier before the tool is turned off. As soon as the shutter starts rattling up, Junhui pulls his head from your hold so that he can face the entrance of the slowly lightening store, and take up growling all over again, this time louder and clearer in his warnings as the “threat” is revealed.
“Stop it,” you scold softly, tapping his side once. Junhui listens, for the most part at least. The growling grows quiet enough that you have to almost strain your ears to hear it, and he moves to stand directly in front of where you still kneel.
“Hi,” Seokmin greets, popping his head under the shutter as it’s slowly rolled up. You can just about see the lower halves of a few officers dressed in protective gear either side of the shutter, their gloved hands lifting it a little at a time. Even Seokmin looks like he’s wearing protective gear from what you can see of his body where it’s oddly contorted so that he can look under the shutter.
“Full moon crew?” you ask, realising that you recognise the specialised gear from training videos you’ve watched of other supernatural species restraining werewolves on the full moon.
“Yeah,” Seokmin confirms, moving to crouch carefully, eyes darting between Junhui’s form and your head barely in view above the wolf’s back. “We only realised what the day is when we realised it’s been a while since he checked in, longer than normal, and obviously, he didn’t answer the radio in his car. Honestly, we thought that we were going to find a very different scenario once we found you two.”
“You’re not the only one,” you reply with a soft laugh.
“You’re really okay? He didn’t get you before getting his mind back, did he?”
“No, didn’t even try to.”
Seokmin makes a surprised sound that quickly turns considering. “Strange. Oh well, better not to question it, just be glad we don’t have to call the cleaners in.”
“Trust me, I’m very glad of that.”
Seokmin grins, chuckling lightly, before he focuses his attention solely on Jun. “If we finish opening the shutter, you’re not going to jump any of us, are you?” Junhui growls, though cuts off when you make that disapproving tut again, entirely without thought and just wanting him to behave. “Wow, only a couple hours with him and you’ve trained him already! Are you sure you don’t have some kind of magic in you?” the siren jokes while making a motion behind him before he raises up to stand as the shutter is lifted the rest of the way, revealing even more of the FMRT— Full Moon Response Team— behind him, holding various tools and non-deadly weapons designed to subdue a werewolf. Though you know that there will be at least one deadly weapon amongst the bunch, but they’re not authorised to even pull those out unless the situation is dire.
“Very positive,” you muse, raising to your feet. Junhui adjusts, standing even taller now; you hadn’t even realised he wasn’t at his full height but lowered a little to not be so tall against your kneeled form.
“Well, come on then, let’s get you both home.”
When Seokmin had said “home”, you’re sure you all assumed that to mean your separate homes, as in you’d get in your car and drive yourself home, and Junhui would get in the transportation van and be driven to his own home. Yet, when you had walked to your car, Junhui stuck to your side and continued to glare and growl at anyone who dared to get within a few metres of the two of you. Even when you tried to walk the wolf to the van and encourage him into it, he refused. So, you relented, opened the back door of your car to let him claim the backseats, then got in the front.
Ideally, you would’ve driven Junhui home yourself, but despite having known the man for five years, you don’t know his address, only the neighbourhood; and when you drove around it, Junhui didn’t give any indication of where you should go to get him home. You knew you couldn’t leave him out wandering in public either, no supernatural being is allowed to be in anything but their human form in public places— unless specially designed for it—, so you only had one option.
Now, you’re sitting on your sofa trying not to give in to Junhui’s literal puppy-dog eyes and cute, pleading whining as he gently paws at your thigh with one paw, the other placed on the sofa you’re refusing to let him get on.
“No, Junhui, you’re bigger than the entire seat!” you exclaim, nudging him back down when he not-so-subtly tries to edge up onto the cushion by your side. He whines even more pitifully, lowers his head, and looks up at you from the top of his eyes, making them even bigger, and paws your thigh some more. The little shit knows just how to push your buttons too, it seems; at least in the way of being cute and getting his way. “Asshole,” you huff, and get up to motion to the sofa. “Go on then!”
Junhui yips happily and bounces once before he clambers up onto the sofa. While he’s excitedly getting settled, you move to sit in the armchair and turn the TV on to pass time until the sun rises and Junhui can shift back into humanskin. A soft bark makes you look at him, and somehow the wolf sitting upright on your sofa looks utterly, devastatingly betrayed.
“What?” you question, pointing to the TV. “Is it too loud?” Junhui huffs and then paws at the space on the sofa you previously occupied. “What? Are you seriously expecting me to stay there when you take up the whole length?” He whines and starts to tilt his head down to give you another one of those almost heart-wrenchingly adorable expressions. “Fine!” you give in before he can even start, knowing you won’t survive another round of boss level puppy-dog eyes. Junhui barks excitedly as you get up. “Shush! It’s 2am, my neighbours are sleeping.”
Suddenly a little sheepish, Junhui shrinks slightly, somehow looking apologetic as you plop back down in your previous seat on the sofa. He lets out a quiet version of his happy bark that makes you laugh, and then he’s dropping down onto his belly, propping his chin on your thighs, and peering up at you; looking nothing but adorably happy and content as your left hand naturally starts to pet him while the right flicks though options on the TV remote to find something to watch.
Although you settle on something you assume Junhui would be interested in— based on TV shows you’ve heard him comment on positively over the years—, he doesn’t really look at the screen. His eyes mostly remain focused on you as his tail sways just out of your view where it hangs off the edge of the sofa. You’re entirely absorbed in the show; gasping, laughing, and commenting in all the right places that he is far too content watching you to dare look away even for a moment.
The next time you turn back into the world instead of the historical drama that has well and truly stolen your attention, it’s been hours. Long enough, in fact, that you can see the sun peeking around the edge of the curtains pulled over the living room windows.
Yet still, there’s a wolf using your lap as his own personal pillow; a fully awake wolf who should be a human already.
You peer down at him questioningly after pausing your show, and he lets out a soft little whimper, shuffling a little closer and nuzzling into your stomach as if he’s trying to hide from your scrutinising gaze. “Why haven’t you shifted back?” you ask. He whines, and you sigh. “I don’t understand you like this; shift back and talk, Junhui.”
Though instead of doing that, he gets up and scuttles to the front door as if he’s planning to escape. But two things entirely fuck up his plan. The first being obvious; he doesn’t have opposable thumbs in this form, so he can’t work any of the locks you have on the door. And the second also being equally as obvious and related to the first; he’s literally a giant wolf and would get arrested if he went out in public like this.
There’s a moment where you can see Junhui mentally war with himself as he slumps down, the top of his head pressing against the door as he debates what to do, then he slumps further in resignation.
Although the transformation into wolfskin had been loud, had sounded beyond painful, the shift back into humanskin is silent, effortless. You can’t tell if it was because it was a forced shift that it was so horrendous, or because Junhui had fought against it so much.
Honestly, for a second, you had forgotten that Junhui’s clothes are obviously not on the man now; they’re in tatters on dirty tile flooring still, only the items from his pockets didn’t get destroyed and are in a clear evidence bag on the side table beside the front door for Junhui to take home with him when he goes. Admittedly, for a couple of seconds you can’t do anything but dumbly stare at the long expanse of naked back, of perky ass, broad shoulders, and tiny waist. The man truly is beautiful, and you can’t be blamed for being struck dumb by the sight.
“Can I please have a blanket?” his quiet, shy voice brings you back to life, and you scramble off the sofa so quickly that you almost fall. Luckily, he’s not looking, so he doesn’t know the fool you just made of yourself, and you can cool the embarrassed flush on your cheeks before you near him with a large, soft, and freshly washed, blanket in your hold. You drape it around his shoulders while being very considerate to not even accidentally get a view of the front of his nude form. “Thank you.”
“I’ll get you something to wear, I should have at least some shorts,” you say, already rushing off to your bedroom to give him some space and privacy to get up. Once in your room, you take a moment to gather your mental strength and push aside the image of Junhui’s ass imprinted on your mind before you rummage through your clothes to find something to cover the man’s nudity.
As you thought, you do have a pair of men’s shorts that should fit him, bought for yourself a while back due to how lightweight and comfy they felt on the hanger in store, and regularly worn in warmer weather. You’re not convinced any of your t-shirts will fit his broad shoulders really. You honestly don’t even know how he finds anything in stores to fit his physique without looking ridiculous— because he always looks impeccably dressed. Still, you grab one you think might be okay and quickly return to him.
Junhui is standing in the kitchen, one arm stuck out of the blanket cloak he’s wearing as he swallows down a glass of water quicker than you thought possible. “Sorry,” he pants when he lowers the glass, drops trailing down his chin and long throat from his rushed drinking and inability to wipe the errant drops away with only one arm available— unless he wants to let go of the blanket and be left standing butt naked in your kitchen for the sake of drying his chin.
“What for?” you ask bewilderedly while putting the clothes on the counter ready for him to take when he’s ready.
“Not asking first.” He lifts his empty glass in explanation.
“Oh, I don’t care.” You wave a dismissive hand. “You can always help yourself to water here, and honestly, most other things in the kitchen. I’m always happy to feed guests.”
“Well, I’m not exactly a guest; you didn’t want me here, I invited myself,” he points out, looking away from you in embarrassment. He finally puts down the glass and uses his now free hand to wipe the water from his skin. “So, sorry about that too.”
“Don’t be.” He lifts his head to look at you with a disbelieving, slightly questioning expression. “You have no choice but to answer my questions now,” you reason, smiling at him in a too sweet way that makes him sigh and look away from you again. It takes a second of him staring at the glass on the counter in front of him as he turns it slowly, before he nods in reluctant agreement. “Why didn’t you attack me? You didn’t seem to lose yourself at all, but before the shift you acted like you would. Why?”
“Because I thought I would.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t, not really.”
“So you did a bit?”
He lets out a breath, a little shaky at the edges, and nods. “Yes. I…I wasn’t entirely there at first, but I just…knew you, even in that state. I knew I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you of all people.”
“What? Why me?” He doesn’t answer. “Jun, please?”
Junhui adjusts the blanket, tucking his arm back under it and pulling the edges closer, almost as if he’s shielding himself. You can only watch with a frown, heart aching a little for how he clearly feels like he needs protecting right now. Even in humanskin, the man could tear you apart before you realise what’s happening; there’s no way you could physically hurt him.
And then you realise, only a second before he speaks, that it’s not his body that he’s trying to protect, but his heart.
“Because it’s you, it’s always been you. Since the day we met, I looked at you and I knew you’ll be the one I need more than anything, more than food, more than water. You’re my heart; without you, I can’t live.”
“Jun…”
“I–I know, you don’t need to say it,” he insists, stepping away a little jerkily as you move closer, as if his body isn’t quite reacting how it should, as if his mind isn’t in one piece enough to direct his limbs to move smoothly. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him like this. “Humans don’t have this; you don’t have connections in this way. I know you have the idea of other halves, soulmates, but it’s different. Humans give away pieces of their heart over time, yet never the whole thing; but werewolves, we give it over that first instant. I know you don’t want it, and I’m not going to even try to get you to accept it, but it’s yours all the same. Even when you find someone else to share your heart with; mine is entirely yours.”
It’s far more than you ever thought you’d hear from the man, far more than you’d ever hoped he say, that he’d feel. Your hope only stretched as far as a crush, maybe the generic form of love, but never this. Never in your life could you have imagined a werewolf to have you for a heartmate; for you to be the one person they are made to love. You know that many werewolves— the majority even— never meet their heartmate, and quite a few spend their whole lives looking.
Junhui’s right in that in some sense, it’s akin to the very human concept of soulmates, except soulmates aren’t real; there isn’t another human out there made to complete you, the other half of a whole. Whereas heartmates are very real— if rare—, and they aren’t the other half of anything. No werewolf is incomplete without a heartmate, and they’re certainly not made for one another, but they are connected from the first moment they meet until their last moment on this earth.
When one of the pair of a heartmate dies, the other does too; as once the bond is formed, a werewolf can’t live without their heartmate. Which means, that if something happens to you, should you die, Junhui would shortly follow. However, as you’re human, you don’t feel the bond and could live on if something happens to Junhui.
It makes sense why Junhui is so intent on protecting you now, now that you know that he literally can’t live without you. Though that’s cheapening the bond entirely to say. Junhui doesn’t want you alive for his own sake, so that he gets to keep living too; Junhui wants you alive because he’s in love with you.
If you weren’t so caught up in the moment, in your racing heart and Junhui’s form curled in on himself where he’s backed up in the corner while you approach, you’d think the little whimper he lets out when you cup his face is so close to the noises he make in wolfskin that it’d make you giggle. As is it though, you barely notice, and instead focus on gently turning his face so that he has to look at you. He starts to close his eyes, but something on your face must surprise him, as he flutters his eyes open, eyebrows lifting slightly, and lips parting.
“Before the shift took you, I thought you were going to rip my heart out.” He whines, shrinking further at the thought; at the reminder that you were scared for your safety because of him. “And I wanted to take what I thought would be my last and only chance to tell you where it is.” Abruptly, his unhappy sounds cut off, and his head tilts slightly, adorably confused. You smile gently and lift one hand from his face to place it on his chest and tap over where you can feel his heart racing and thudding against his ribs to reach out to you. “Right here, Junhui, my heart is right here.”
“I…what?” he whispers, adjusting his position so that he’s not curled to the side, but facing you; straightening a little but never removing his face from your adoring touch, or chest from your reach. One of his hands wraps around your wrist to keep your palm against his torso, even with the blanket still wrapped entirely around him and creating a soft barrier between your skin. “With me?” You nod. “Your heart is with me?”
“Yes,” you confirm, laughing slightly. “When you got shot, I almost lost my mind; I was so scared I’d lose you.”
“But you…you’ve always…”
“Been an asshole?” He nods firmly, then turns a little sheepish when he realises what he’s just agreed to, and a tiny, adorably apologetic smile tilts his lips up. You giggle. “I have. It was in retaliation at first; I really did think you hated me from the start, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about me, Jun, but I don’t take that kind of shit laying down.”
“I’ve definitely noticed,” he confirms with a soft, huffed laugh. “You always stand up to anyone who even tries to treat you like shit; you’ve earned a lot of respect because of it.”
“And some enemies too.”
“Yeah, and those. But I’ll never let them hurt you; I’ll always protect you, you know that, right?” he checks, looking and sounding so utterly earnest.
“I know that now,” you assure, and he relaxes a little. When you brush your thumb over his cheek, he lets out a content little sigh and tilts into your touch. “I want to be with you, Wen Junhui,” you inform quietly, and hear his breath catch, watch his eyes widen slightly. “But I don’t know if we should.”
“What?” His expression tugs down as he frowns at you while he straightens up. “If you’re worried it will ruin our working relationship, you’re wrong. I’ve been in love with you from the start, I know how to act during work.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s that you’re a werewolf, and I’m a human.”
“And? I didn’t think you care about that kind of thing. You said I have your heart, doesn’t that mean you love me?”
“It does. And I don’t care about cross species relationships at all. What I mean is that I won’t live to a hundred years, but you will live a lot longer.”
“No, I’ll–”
“Die when I do,” you finish, and he nods. “I’ll spend the entire time scared of that.”
“Whether we’re together or not, I’ll die when you do. At least this way, I can love you the way you deserve, not from a distance,” he reasons. In an act that makes you choke on air, he lets go of the blanket protecting his modesty so that he can cup your face with both of his large hands, slender fingers curling to hold you securely, yet still so gentle; not like you’ll break, but like you deserve to be held tenderly. “Please, let me love you the way you deserve, my heartmate.”
“I…Fuck,” you let all tension out at once and tilt up towards him. Junhui doesn’t hesitate to lean in to meet your lips with eager affection, both melting into one another in the way you never thought would happen, but now that it has, you know nothing has ever felt so right.
A few moments later, when the kiss breaks, Junhui rests his forehead against yours. “Thank you, for letting me love you.”
“Thank you for loving me. I know it’s not your choice, but I’m grateful all the same.”
“Not as grateful as me; you let yourself fall for me. That’s…” he lets out a breath that sounds overwhelmed in the best of ways before his lips curl up as he lifts enough that you can look at one another comfortably. “I love you, and I’m so happy that I can spend the rest of our lives showing you that.”
“I…Do…do you think that maybe…you can turn me?” you suggest, and his eyes widen in genuine shock. “So that you can be my heartmate too and we can live a long life together, and you don’t have to watch me grow old while you age at a fraction of the speed?”
“You’d really do that? Become a werewolf for me?”
“I would,” you confirm, confident and without hesitation. “I want to love you for a long time, Junhui.”
“Fuck.” He pulls you in for another kiss, this one longer, deeper, more intense as he spills out all his overwhelmed joy and passion against your lips. He only stops a little after he’s lifted you up onto the counter to stand between your thighs and make it easier to hold you close to his chest as his tongue does things that makes you very excited to spend the rest of your life experiencing again, and again.
“Well then,” you exhale, chest heaving when he pulls back, allowing your human lungs to try to catch some air. He’s breathing heavily too, but you know he has naturally better stamina than you and can hold his breath for longer— as revealed a few months into working together when you discovered that his car’s breaks had been cut when, no matter how hard he stomped on the pedal, he couldn’t stop the vehicle careening into the dock in the middle of the night, and you had surfaced almost two minutes before him, barely conscious with your lungs burning.
“We can have pups,” he blurts, making you choke on absolutely nothing. “Shit, sorry, sorry, I just…If–if we had a baby when you’re human, they would be human too because you can’t shift to birth them as a wolf, so they won’t be born a wolf, meaning they’ll never shift and—”
“Sweet boy,” you coo, cupping his face, and then press a quick peck on the tip of his nose that makes him briefly go a little cross eyed. “It’s very cute that you’re thinking about putting a baby in me already–” He whines shyly and tucks his head down to hide his blushing face in your palms, making you giggle. “But let’s take it one step at a time, okay? I’m not against it exactly, but not any time soon. First, let’s focus on us, and our careers. When we’re both ready to find less dangerous work, we can circle back to pup talk, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, nodding as he peers at you from over the edge of your hands, eyes adorably big and beautiful. “You need to be turned first too, and that’ll make work safer–” He suddenly gasps and straightens up, looking excited. “You can become a cop once you’re a werewolf!”
“Oh, yeah, I could. I didn’t even consider that.”
“No? I thought you would’ve. You’ve always said you would’ve if you legally could.”
“Mm, I know, and I would’ve. But I kind of really like being my own boss and not having to go the routes you guys do. Also, I’d have to start from the bottom and work my way up, and that would mean years before there’s even a chance of us working together again. They’d probably give you a partner in that time and then not reassign you once I’m qualified; probably wouldn’t let spouses work together. Jihoon isn’t allowed to work with his wife; they both have told me that.”
“That’s mostly because they distract each other and have been caught making out all over the precinct,” Junhui clarifies, making you snicker, easily able to imagine Jihoon and his wife being unable to keep their hands off each other even during working hours; they’re truly obsessed with one another in a mostly cute— and a little gross— way. “But also, can we circle around to you calling us spouses and then relating to a married couple, and that…are you planning to marry me?”
“Definitely,” you confirm with a nod, and he squeaks, lifting his hands to his own cheeks to try and hide his goofy grin. “After a year of being a couple, we can start thinking about marriage properly; once we’ve discovered how we work as a couple.”
“Mm, yep, yep, we can do that,” he agrees, head bobbling in a way that makes you giggle, though you cut off when you reach out to wrap your arms around his waist and are reminded that he is very much completely fucking naked.
“Oh.” You stare at his chest, drag your gaze down his chiselled torso, and then pout when your view is blocked by the edge of the counter by his hips. Damn your apartment for having such high counters. “You’re very naked,” you comment.
“Oh!” He lets out an alarmed noise then reaches out one handed to grab the shorts from the pile, the other hand lifting to cover your eyes.
“I’m going to see it sooner or later,” you reason, though don’t really argue, and even close your eyes and turn away from him.
“I know, I know, I just want it to be intended, and at least after our first date,” he says as he works on quickly pulling on the shorts, then the t-shirt, before returning to you. “And with that in mind, let me take you out to dinner tonight,” he requests, turning you to face him again, so you open your eyes to look at him; the t-shirt is definitely pulling tight over his shoulders, but he doesn’t look uncomfortable and you’re certainly not complaining— even if it’s going to ruin the shape of the t-shirt.
“Or, you can cook for me. Everyone praises your cooking, and I think it’s time you finally let me try it,” you suggest.
Junhui smiles and nods. “I’d love to cook for you.”
“Great, that means we can spend all day here!” you enthuse and clap a few times happily. “I want to watch more of that show and cuddle the fuck out of you on the sofa until we fall asleep.”
“Okay, my heartmate, whatever you want,” he agrees with a chuckle before pressing one more kiss to your lips, and then playfully sweeps you off the counter to carry to the sofa and drop down together. The pair of you shuffle around until you’re comfortably tucked up against one another ready to spend the rest of the day together doing nothing but watching TV and relaxing.
You know that every day isn’t going to be like this, especially as tomorrow, you’ll both have to go back to work, and you truly never know what dangers your jobs will bring. And you know that even though you’re Junhui’s heartmate, and that you love him as much as a human can love another, it won’t all be smooth sailing. There will be fights; there will be days where you can’t stand being near each other and will wonder if you will be able to move past that feeling.
But you know in your heart that the good will outweigh the bad, and that when you you’re both old and looking back on your long life together, you’ll see a life full of love, and a life well spent.
Don't forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖
“I'm not sure I ever saw this coming but I'm kinda into it,” Mingi says as he hauls yet another beached palm tree to your camp.
"Sometimes life has a funny way of putting people where they belong," You muse to yourself as you weave palm fronds.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ In which Song Mingi, your CEO boss, insists you accompany him to Taipei during your booked summer vacation. As his personal assistant, you do so without question, but a faulty wiring has your plane crashing in the way back home, and suddenly, the roles are reversed. You're the queen of the island, and Mingi is happy to provide for you.
For Admin Flurry’s An Unexpected Journey event held by @lapydiaries
🗡Summary: while you pursue a group of bandits, your captain's rut gets triggered, and even though your just a Beta, you take on the mantle of helping him through it
🗡Takes place in this world, with Alpha! Baron! Yunho x Beta! Servant! Reader
🗡Pairing: Alpha! Captain of the Guard! Wooyoung x Beta! Guard! Reader (f)
🗡Rated: 18+, Minors/ageless blogs do not interact (you will be blocked)
🗡Warnings: rut, dom! Wooyoung, sub! Reader, wooyoung slices at a tree, oral (f), shredding clothes (by way of hands and knife), abo dynamics: scent glands, scent marking, alpha commands, beta responses, partial shifting; sex without protection, knotting, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (darling), begging, degradation kink, pussy drunk, pleasure drunk, biting, creampie, stomach bulge, belly press
🗡Word count: 3,102
🗡Author’s Note: so i decided i really like this world and this came to me so im going to see if I can do all the members 🙃 wish me luck
🗡Divider by @cursed-carmine
“Captain!” You shout with urgency. “I found the bandits. Follow me, quickly!”
What you should have found was the captain of the guard slouched against the trunk of a pine tree, hat tipped downwards so he could enjoy his nap. Instead, the scene you discovered changed the trajectory of your evening.
Wooyoung is violently slicing at the tree with his sword. It isn't as if he got bored and decided to duel with the tree, no, it is as if he found the murderer of his dear mother and was enacting revenge. His normally poised and skillful swings are replaced with hectic chops.
“Captain?” You call out cautiously.
Wooyoung’s entire body stiffens as he woodenly turns around on the heels of his feet. “Darling, you shouldn't be here.”
You roll your eyes at your alpha’s ridiculous nickname. He called everyone darling, but it grated against you so much. You needed his respect, not his amusement. “Now is not the time, Captain! We will lose the bandits we've spent the week hunting. Sheath your sword and be done with this madness.”
Wooyoung swallows loudly, and a low whine escapes his throat. “As you wish.”
Your captain drops his sword and strode towards you with purpose. You yelp as he wraps his hands around your waist and drags you from your horse.
That's when you realize your mistake; your nose is flooded with scorched metal and burned caramel. Your alpha captain is trapped in his rut. Hence the violence, for he has no alternative. Until you show up.
His nose trails along your neck, stopping exactly over your scent gland. He breathes in deeply and growls without warning.
“I-i know you know I'm a Beta, Captain. No Omegas are allowed to be a part of the guard. Nor do they have the temperament for it.”
Wooyoung’s nose inches up a fraction, if only to allow his teeth to bite your pulse point. He didn't do it to break your skin; he did it to elicit a response from you. And respond you did. You melt in his arms, goo to run through his fingers. Your alpha captain knows exactly what to do to have you as putty for him to mold to his liking.
“Now listen to me, Darling. I need a favor from you. My rut isn’t scheduled for another month. So that means something brought it on early. And I've done nothing for the past week but sleep and eat and breathe around you. So you're going to let me sheath my sword in you so I can be done with this madness.” The fact that he felt the need to echo your words back at you was just plain rude.
“The bandits--!” You yelp as Wooyoung growls again, this time biting into the meat of your shoulder with a bit more force.
“We will still catch them, rest assured. I have the best tracker in my regiment with me.” Your chest swells with pride at the compliment. “But right now, if I am not inside of you, scenting you or you're thinking of other wolves, I will chop down this entire forest and all within it.”
“Sir.” You're having a hard time. This is beyond going against the rules. No Betas are equipped to handle an Alpha’s rut. It is practically forbidden to have a dalliance within the current social structure. But your captain is giving you an order. And your alpha demands you comply. You whine heavily with your confusion.
“It's okay, Darling,” Wooyoung coos. “I'll walk you through it. You'll spread your legs and I'll fuck you good and then my knot will plug you up. Simple as can be.”
“Yes, Sir,” You said despondently.
“I think I prefer Wooyoung while my knot plugs you.” The alpha licked where he has bitten, soothing the skin and making you shiver.
“Woo…” you begin to say his name weakly but whine as Wooyoung raises his wrist. Hesitantly, you rub your cheek against his scent gland there.
“There's a good little beta,” Wooyoung praises you. “Now--!” Wooyoung hoists you up so that you have no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist. “I need to be surrounded by your scent.”
You watch with fascination as his nostrils flare and his eyes flash with impatience. You bare your neck and let him bury himself there once again. He pushes your body up against one of the trees, his pelvis slowly grinding into yours.
“You smell like green apples,” Wooyoung divulges. “It's refreshing.”
Wooyoung practically smothers himself in your scent. As a Beta, you don't have strong scent glands, so Wooyoung has to work hard to breathe you in. He suddenly whines with need. “Darling, can I be inside of you now?”
“I--” You have a hard time speaking as another roll of Wooyoung’s hips has your mind melting. “I don't think I'm wet enough.”
“Not a problem,” Wooyoung announces, releasing his hold on your upper body.
With a quick hand movement, Wooyoung snatches one of the daggers from your belt and slices a convenient slit through your leather pants. His nose dives into your cunt, eager tongue licking through your undergarments. Your cunt cocks upwards, as Wooyoung’s nose knocks against your clit.
“If only I could let you ride my face,” Wooyoung bemoans his current rut-driven lust.
Instead, he rips your undergarments, and his tongue delves into your folds. You cry out, the feeling of his tongue on the most intimate parts of your body simply divine. Your hand curls into his hair, needing something to hold on, while your lower half becomes warm and mushy with pleasure. To give himself direct access, his thumbs hold your outer folds apart so he can apply his tongue to your clit with the accuracy of a man focused.
With his tongue flicking your bud with the right pressure and rhythm, you embarrassingly come undone fast for him--faster than even your own fingers have coaxed out an orgasm before. You shudder quietly against the tree, but Wooyoung is standing up with the speed of an Alpha.
Wooyoung gratuitously licks his lips. “Now can I be inside of you? I need you to say yes, Darling. My Alpha won’t accept anything less in my rut. Please?” Wooyoung whines, eyebrows furrowed and lower lip pushing out.
You’re still mid-comedone if you’re being honest with yourself, but a whiff of his metal and caramel combo floats under your nostrils, and your legs won’t hold you up any longer. You instinctually want to be on your back for this Alpha. “Wooyoung,” you whimper.
Wooyoung’s arms wrap around your waist and hold you aloft. “I need you to say it,” he whispers, diving his head back to the crook of your neck once again. His nose skims your sensitive skin, and he breathes out in a sigh. “This is nice, very nice, but my cock aches, Darling.”
Your breath catches in the back of your throat. “I need you inside of me too,” you whisper back.
“Fuck,” Wooyoung curses softly, biting down on his lower lip before spinning your body around to face the tree. The Alpha grips your hips, pulling them out far enough to his liking and then unlaces his breaches. He second guesses your stance, knocking your feet out further wider. “I’ll be so good to you, you wait. I’ll fuck you so well, you won’t even remember it’s against our code. It’s fine, everything will be fine.”
When his cockhead gently nudges your opening, you can’t help but clench down on absolutely nothing. Your instincts cry for you to be spread apart, to be speared and seeded. You needed that fullness that came from being filled with a cock and semen. You needed it as much as you needed air.
Your breaths come out in small puffs against the tree bark. “Are you really going to give me your knot?”
Wooyoung chuckles. “ ‘course I am. You really think I could fight that instinct to plug you up? I’m barely able to hold back my wolf and mark you permanently.”
Your throat seizes in fear. Wooyoung couldn't mark you as his mate! There were so many steps to go through, not to mention it would make a mess of the brigade you both work within--Wooyoung’s teeth dig into your shoulder and he bites deep enough to bring you out of your mind.
“That’s not the marking you were talking about,” You weakly joke.
Wooyoung groans in frustration. “You have no idea. How hard this is.” So instead, the Alpha slips right into you. He’s made you come with his tongue so it’s no problem to split you open with his cock. The both of you cry out as you get what you want.
“Aren’t you simply perfect for me? A good little Beta that gets loose after she comes on my tongue. Easy for me to fuck and fill up.”
Your own hands semi-shift into claws, and you make marks into the tree bark. “I’m not--that--easy--!” You pant.
Wooyoung chuckles again at your protests. “You’re so fucking easy I’m having a hard time believing you’re one of my guards and not an eager little whore that wants the Captain of the Guard’s knot.”
Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the mention of his knot. “They whisper… you know.”
“Oh, I know. I’ve encouraged it. Do you know how much it benefits me in society for it to be common knowledge that my knot is one of the harder ones to take? How whores and courtiers alike have fought tooth and claw to be the one to take it? The amount of Omegas--”
The ‘o’ word causes you to whine in distress. Wooyoung licks a long line up your neck in reassurance. “I don’t need an Omega. Who caused my rut to come early? A certain guard who smells like crisp apples.”
Wooyoung’s cock thrusts up into you pretty deeply at the angle he’s acquired and makes you push back against him. That’s all Wooyoung needs. He takes off to the races, pace brutal as he fucks you from behind. And that’s when you feel it.
“Wooyoung…”
“Oh, you’re going to take it so wonderfully, don’t worry, Darling. I know it.” Wooyoung grunts as his knot swells and starts to catch against your hole. “This is my favorite part.”
Your whole entire world narrows down to the swell of this Alpha’s knot. With each thrust, it pulls at your hole, stretching you to your limit, until finally Wooyoung’s thrusts are shallow.
“Fuck. My knots going to pop, oh fuck, it’s going to feel so good, take me, Darling, fucking take it!” Wooyoung cries out as his knot reaches it’s full potential.
You scream as it pushes against your walls and effectively locks into place with your body. Your orgasm washes over you, like pleasure you’ve never felt before. Wooyoung’s seed comes next, filling you as he moans into your ear, coming so much that your womb is full of his cum.
Slowly, tiredly, you two sink to the base of the tree, Wooyoung collapses against your back. Tiny whines escape the back of his throat. “So good,” he says, checked out completely but for his pleasure.
“Captain?” You hesitantly call out to him, unsure if you can take his entire weight until his next rush of rut hits.
He slurs his words, sounding drunk. “ ‘s fine. I could carry ten of you if I needed to.”
“My face hurts,” you admit.
Wooyoung growls. “I already sliced it to pieces. You'd think it would have learned its place already.”
You can’t help but giggle at the absurdity of that statement. Wooyoung, with the strength he had just boasted of, sweeps his arms under your legs and carefully turns, crisscrossing his legs and keeping you in his lap. His back is so the tree now, and he assumes his press of his face against your shoulder.
“See, isn’t this nice?” he mumbles.
“Calm before the storm,” you quip, well aware this wasn’t the end.
“Careful, my Beta, or I might just mark you out of pure adoration,” Wooyoung mockingly threatens.
“Sir, you can’t!” You protest one more time.
“Shouldn’t I reward you for enduring my rut?” Wooyoung argues. HIs tongue traces your scent gland. “I could do it when you come around my knot again. The perfect blade of pleasure and pain. And then you would be mine. All mine.”
“We can’t,” You emphasize.
“If you--” Wooyoung swallows his tongue because clearly you have an adverse reaction to hearing ‘Omega’. He tries again. “If you were anyone else, if we did that, it would be celebrated.”
Your shoulders droop. Wooyoung isn’t wrong. Alarm bells go off, however, when you feel Wooyoung’s incisors flirt with the sensitive skin of your neck. “Captain!”
“What did I tell you about calling me by my given name while my knot is currently plugging up your perfect cunt?” Wooyoung growls.
The vibrations echo through your body, and your wolf responds by craning your neck even more and whining. “Wooyoung, you already own me at this moment.”
Wooyoung seems to be pleased by hearing that, so his teeth remove themselves from your neck. “Don't I?” He purrs. “How lovely it feels to have you wrapped around my length at my convenience.”
You feel said cock stirring inside of you. “Speak of the devil,” you mutter.
“Don’t be so harsh to the instrument that just made you come so hard, Darling,” Wooyoung admonishes you. “Or do I need to prove to you again just how dumb you come for my cock?”
To prove his point, Wooyoung flexes his abdomen only slightly. His cock moves and you gasp as his knot unswells slightly and his seed spills from your hole. You quickly clench down your inner muscles and Wooyoung groans in response. “Does my pretty Beta not want my cum to leave her loose hole? How quaint.”
“I simply do not want a mess!”
“Too late for that,” Wooyoung chuckles, and then he maneuvers you once again.
Your hands and knees touch the soft loam of the forest floor. To be in this position, vulnerable to any eyes or ears that may come across you with your captain, it makes your chest and neck heat up. Regardless, your back arches in response.
“So eager despite that mouth that insists on tradition,” Wooyoung muses. “Perhaps society has it wrong. Perhaps Beta’s are made for breeding just as well as the others. We are all wolves, after all.”
“Will you just fuck me already?” You say gruffly. Wooyoung doesn’t need to know that his proclamation made your heart skip a beat. Your wolf preened at Wooyoung’s praise.
“So greedy for my knot again, Darling? I’ll gladly give it to you. You just have to ask sweetly. I have delicate sensibilities.”
You sigh heavily. Your captain was a whole other breed of wolf, truly. “Wooyoung, please, stuff me with your knot again. I want to scream your name for the whole forest to hear again.”
“Hell yes,” Wooyoung hisses. His fingers dig into your hips with renewed fervor, and he begins to move inside of you again.
His knot teases your walls as he cock rushes to plunge in and out of you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you begin to pant as your cunt drips with Wooyoung’s first load. The noise coming from your cunt is absolutely obscene with the added lubrication.
“The second time is always the best,” Wooyoung moans loudly. “Listen to you, Darling? Not only are you so warm and loose for me and my fat knot, you’re full of my cum. So wet and inviting for more of my rut. Such a well-versed Beta in Alpha procedures.”
Wooyoung’s dirty words are despicable, but you don’t have enough pride left. It was shredded with your pants and underclothing. All you can do now is meet Wooyoung thrust for thrust, as his knot starts to swell faster this time. Your pussy is looser now that it took his knot, and so you get the satisfaction of feeling that pop of it pushing past your inner lips again and again.
“Feels so good,” You cry as your ass slaps against Wooyoung’s flexed pelvis.
“That’s right, you enjoy that knot, Darling. It’s all for you. It will only be for you. The courts will cry when they hear this knot is reserved for one Beta and one Beta only. For this is only you after this rut.” Wooyoung lowers his voice, if only to queue you to focus even harder on his next set of words. “Whether you accept my mark or not, you are mine.”
You swallow, your throat tight and raw. This is your captain and yet… Nothing about this feels wrong, innately. Your wolf is ready to roll on her back and show Wooyoung her tummy. You have no more resistance left in you.
With your pussy clamping down on Wooyoung’s knot, it fully pops once again, plugging you as Wooyoung fills you with even more cum. This time, you feel an odd sensation in your lower half. A hand presses to where that sensation is and you come a second time.
“That’s my Darling,” Wooyoung coos. “Cunt fluttering around my knot and cock, womb so full of my seed that her stomach is extended. There’s nothing more beautiful than that.”
Your shoulders heave as the second climax takes your breath away. This pleasure is truly like nothing you have ever experienced. You have a feeling that even though Wooyoung is claiming you, there is no moving on after you have been knotted. You would become knot-sick, something that seemingly only claimed Omegas.
As if Wooyoung senses your thoughts, he leans against your back and bites into your shoulder teasingly. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you fed on my knot plenty. You’ll be full.”
You groan as his hand presses against your stomach once again, causing that odd sensation that is oddly pleasurable. “You’ll be my ruin, Jung Wooyoung.”
“Honestly, I’m insulted you hadn't said that earlier,” Wooyoung pretends to sulk. And the following cackle as his own tease echoes louder through the silent forest.
You have no idea if there would be any chance in bringing in the bandits that you had been tracking for a week, but you aren’t quite sure there was anything left in you to care at this point. All you are thinking about is how long until this current knot might deflate and what position Wooyoung is going to take you in next.
a/n: so i wrote this scene(s) and then redid it entirely, so this just exists with no story for it. i can't even use it for another story because it really is this mingyu and this reader. it's unfinished, and would have taken place the night after their make out in her office. so that night and the following morning. we still have mingyu being straight-forward but even more so. it didn't work, but might as well share, right?
so, enjoy? lolol.
smut warnings: fingering (fem receiving) penetrative sex (safe), mingyu being in control and reader being dazed into stupidity, kinda.
dividers from the talented @saradika-graphics
act I act II
You open the back door, setting it to lock automatically.
"Hey."
The sound you make is on par with some sort of small yappy dog.
"For fuck's sake, Mingyu. Are you insane? I have pepper spray in my bag."
He grins sheepishly. "Probably no good there because you didn't even try to grab it."
You close the back door and check it to make sure it's locked. "Well, now that I know someone might be waiting right outside the back door, I'll make sure to walk out with it in hand."
He leans against the building, arms crossed, but shoulders relaxed.
"Um." It now settles into your mind that it's Mingyu here. In front of you. Only hours after— "Did everything go okay at the station?"
"Oh yeah." He waves a hand like handling antagonistic sots is no big deal. "They got real docile when they put handcuffs on them." He straightens up. "I thought I might miss you."
You close your eyes and take a deep deep breath. Opening your eyes, you begin: "So, what happened today was—"
"Not enough."
You had a speech. Or at least some fragments of a speech.
"You can't say that."
His slow-growing grin absolutely decimates you, and your self-control.
"I can't? I can't tell you that seeing your eyes all glassy from want, wanting me, didn't just whet my appetite for you?" He reaches out and pulls you close, hands on your upper arms, gentle but firm. "How knowing that you're probably still thinking about me, a room away while I'm at the bar made me want to let Kook handle the crowd and lock you and me in that office until we're both spent. Until we both are satisfied."
Can you combust from only his words? From the sheer amount of desire his words and his presence incite?
"You really can't say that."
He leans down so your noses touch. "Open that door and I'll do more than say it."
You can be firm, you can be strong. You can deny him because it's the right and proper thing to do.
You can. But you don't.
You key in the code to the back door of the pub and he ushers you in, letting the door slam shut behind him. There's only a few safety lights on and it's enough to see him, to see him bend down and lift you in his arms, mouth on yours before you can say anything. You cling to him like an oyster, arms round his neck, legs round his waist. He seems to have no trouble holding you, which triggers something in that primitive part of your brain, and your core quivers with anticipation.
It wasn't tentative early this evening, but it's blown past that now. He devours you, tongue playing yours like an erotic instrument. He's able to hold you with one hand under your ass (there's an unexpected squeeze that makes you yelp) and open your office door with the other.
You're ashamed of how you find whatever he does so attractive. It's sickening.
His mouth is at your neck as he sits on the edge of your beat-up desk. Your hands are tangled in his hair. He lets you slide down his legs to your own feet (dangerous, you're not sure you can stand right now) before pulling off his t-shirt and moving to help you off with yours.
"Uh, do you have a condom?"
He raises an eyebrow at you. "Don't you keep extras here for the men's bathroom?"
Of course you do. Along with sanitary napkins and tampons.
"I mean, I do, but if like, you had a brand or kind you preferred, I didn't want to assume that—" His lips are back on your throat, a suck that will leave a mark later.
"You're so fucking cute, baby," he says against your skin. "I want to eat you alive." He lifts his head and meets your gaze. His eyes are so dark, and he traces a knuckle down the middle of your chest, stopping at the clasp of your bra. He has to be able to see and feel the goosebumps all over your body. "Where are the condoms?"
"Bottom drawer of the desk." You don't recognize your voice, it's mostly air and maybe an octave higher than usual. He moves to grab the prophylactic while you stare and how his back moves doing something as simple as getting something out of a drawer. You try with shaking hands to undo the button of your jeans.
"Hey, let me do that." He sets the foil packet down, resuming his position between you and the desk. He undoes your button and zipper before pushing down your jeans all the way to the floor. You step out of them and he looks up from where he's hunkered down. He doesn't stand up, but after tossing your jeans to the side, slides his hands up your legs to stop at your hips. He kisses over your underwear, at your hip bone.
"Mingyu…" You don't know if you're protesting, pleading, or something else. He snaps the elastic.
"Should get rid of these." He smirks. "Wanna taste you."
You're sure at this point that nothing is actually real. That Kim Mingyu is not kneeling at your feet, looking up at you with hunger. You've gone full delusional, completely snapped. He's not pulling off your underwear, not licking you like your cunt is a delicacy at some posh restaurant. Your hands are not on his shoulders, or in his hair, trying to hold yourself up and not collapse when his tongue thrusts into you. His hands don't curve round to knead your ass, while still tongue-fucking you, then sucking on your aching clit. His finger isn't sliding into you, curling deliciously.
You don't come with a shuddering gasp, held up by his hands.
As he stands and kisses you again, you slump against him, overheated and blissed out. You feel more than hear him chuckle.
"Still with me?"
You attempt a slap at his arm, but there's no strength. He turns you around, so the desk is at your back before lifting you to sit on the edge.
He holds up the condom and looks like he might say something, but you answer him preemptively, undoing his jeans and shoving them down before doing the same with his underwear.
"Eager, aren't we?"
"I had no idea you'd be so talkative during sex," you grumble, hands (very eager) already touching him, stroking even though he's plenty hard. As you take care of putting the condom on, he lets his head drop to yours.
"So you have thought about it?" he whispers, letting out a tiny groan as your fingers take their time feeling the dips and curves of his cock. "You stare at me a little too long to be thinking anything else."
"Have you looked at you?" is all you say, tipping your head up to look at him. He chuckles, light and breathy while you continue giving him a lower massage. He kisses you, covering your hands to still your stroking.
"Well, same." He steps into the space between your thighs, nudging you right there. You choke at the tease. "I've thought about you like this," he admits, before hooking one arm under your leg to raise it as he carefully slides into you. He's gentle, despite the words he utters. "Okay?"
You nod, eyes closed. It's been longer than you care to think about since having sex. Honestly, you don't think you've ever wanted it so badly before. As his cock eases into you, it's almost satiating, but not. Full, your eyes shoot open to see him; jaw clenched, damp at the temples. You draw the back of your hand down the side of his face, pulling his attention from where you're joined to your face. He turns his head enough to kiss your hand before pulling out and thrusting back in. You jolt from it, a pathetic groan, and you grasp for him, hands on his arms, holding tight as he does it again.
"You think about me?" you get out the question, in between panting breaths.
He hums an affirmative, one hand returning to your clit with a little pinch. He lifts your leg higher, changing the angle and when he thrusts this time, you feel it; the spongy spot that's even elusive to you (and every prior lover). "On the bar," he bites out the words. "In the store room, in here. I've thought about you everywhere, sweetheart."
Maybe it's his words, his skilled fingers, or the push and drag of him that catapults you into another orgasm. He's saying something as you ride the high, your cunt clenching around him like a vice, but you can't hear him.
He's heavy, after he comes, leaning in your arms, his body spent. He smells like your pub, and something woodsy.
"What did you say?"
It takes him a few moments to reply. He raises his head, letting his lips trail along your cheek. "I said that you should have a couch in here." He grins, tired.
"Then I'd just sleep here and never go home," you retort. He pushes himself up to full height, cupping your face in his hands.
"Workaholic," he accuses, punctuated by three kisses. You stare at him, sure there are stars in your eyes. He cleans himself up, tossing the tied-off condom into your bin, then grabs a clean rag from the stack on one of the shelves before carefully doing the same for you. He tosses that in the bin. You start to protest, but he places one finger over your mouth. "You do not want to wash it, and always wonder which rag your bartender is using might be the one stained with you, baby." He helps you to your feet, and as you search for wherever he flung your underwear and jeans, he dresses himself.
You wobble a bit, still floating from two very good orgasms. He catches you when you get your foot caught in one of the legs of your jeans.
"Thanks."
His answer is a kiss to the top of your head. "Want me to drive you home? Since you're so…well, whatever this is."
You turn and do smack his arm, and his laugh almost dispels the thoughts that are creeping into your brain now that the stupor is fading.
"Have some humility, Kim Mingyu."
"Absolutely not, sweetheart." He tugs on his shirt and then reaches out to straighten yours, his hands lingering along your skin. "Keys?" He holds out his hand.
"I'm perfectly capable of—"
"You're very capable, but let me?" He knows the power of those beautiful eyes of his. You don't give in, but pull him close, by his shirt, mouth on his. He holds you close, hands sliding to your ass and picking you up (again!). "I can even carry you to your car."
"You're ridiculous."
He kisses your nose. "Please?"
It's silly, but it's too late for there to be any onlookers. Which is good because instead of carrying you in a princess carry, or even how he was holding you, he throws you over his shoulder in the quintessential sack of potatoes hold, picks up your bag,where your keys are, and exits the pub. When you get outside, your arguments for the unbecoming way he's transporting change to a whisper (in case anyone is walking around at almost two am), but he's only laughing. He cradles your head when he gets you into the passenger seat of your car.
"Address?"
You don't answer, feeling petulant (and liking the way he manhandles you a little too much) and crossing your arms over your chest.
"Don't be like that," he coos, leaning over to kiss behind your ear before continuing, "let me put you to bed?" A single nip at your earlobe and you are so weak.
It's a blessing that you're more tired than anything right now, so you are nearly asleep by the time he parks in the driveway of your small house. Before you can get out of the car, he's come round and is pulling you out and letting you lean on him as he locks your car doors. He doesn't carry you, but you're attached to him, arms around him from behind, stumbling after him. His chuckle warms you through.
You must direct him to where your bedroom is, but you can't really remember. It feels like seconds from when you walk through the door to when your head is on your pillow. He asks you something, and you say yes before falling asleep, cozy and tucked in.
When you wake, you're sweating with how hot it is. You keep your house at a pretty mild temperature, to save on bills, but this is beyond normal. Even in the summer, it doesn't get this hot.
There's dead weight across your waist too. What the fuck?
Then last night's memories flood in like the rising tide.
Oh shit.
You roll over delicately to see that yes, the dead weight is an arm, which is attached to Mingyu. He's very much asleep. With no shirt. You glance down, the sheets gap in such a way to see that fortunately he's wearing his underwear.
And he is the reason it's so damn hot.
"Effing furnace," you mumble, trying to extricate yourself from his hold even though you'd like to stay in his arms, despite the heat. Snuggling.
Like reality hasn't shifted and now you have to deal with the consequences of last night's choices.
As you make your way to your bathroom, grabbing something to throw on, you ponder.
And spiral.
You can't exactly pass this off as a fluke.
Post-shower, you brush your teeth and stare into the mirror. Your hair wet and stringy and soaking the shoulders of your t-shirt, but your eyes are decidedly clear (of course you slept well in the arms of Kim Mingyu—the jerk), and your brow is grim.
Not a fluke. An itch. Scratched. A one night stand, which was inevitable with two years of build-up, that apparently even he felt a fraction of.
You can't believe he caught you staring (you can, your subtlety is non-existent in matters of the heart, loins).
But that's all this has to be. One night. Just one little ole night.
When you come back into your bedroom, he's awake.
"Hey." His voice is low and grumbly. Of course it is. Crazy bedhead and half-open eyes, and he's still the most beautiful man you've ever seen.
"Hi. Um…coffee?"
He tilts his head to the side, like he's deciphering your simple question for any undertones. You don't have subtext. Not really. He should know that.
"Yeah, sure. Unless you want to go grab some breakfast?" He sits up, all bared skin on display.
You force yourself not to make a sound of admiration. Or lust. You'd made plenty last night.
"Uh, no…I, shockingly, have stuff here. If you want breakfast. Here."
He shrugs. "Sounds good. Can I use the shower?"
"Absolutely. Um…I'll find a toothbrush for you. I have new ones somewhere." You hurry back into the bathroom, digging through the under-the-sink cabinet. You pull out one to set on top as he comes in, thumb tucked into his underwear. Like he's about to remove them. "The towels on the shelf are clean," you squeak. "Toothbrush here. Whatever you need to use, is fine." You move to pass him (and you'd thought this bathroom big when the realtor had shown you this place). "I'll get that coffee going."
You're almost home free when he says your name, halting you just past the bathroom door.
"Yeah?"
He smiles. "It was nice to wake up in your bed." Then, without shutting the door, he turns on the shower and goes to remove his last stitch of clothing. You yelp (again like a tiny little dog—what the hell) and scurry away from his immodesty and your bedroom in general.
The kitchen feels safe. When he comes out, dressed in last night's clothes (are you disappointed? maybe), he grins brightly before coming to sit at your bar-like kitchen counter. You have two stools there for the purpose.
"Cream? Sugar?" you ask, trying not to stare at his damp wavy tendrils, and sparkling (with water) eyelashes.
"Both, please." He leans against the counter-top. "This is nice. I'm always the one in the kitchen at our place." He sniffs when you set a mug in front of him, along with a carton of half and half, and a sugar bowl. "Smells good."
"Should be for what I pay for it."
"You grind your own?" He nods to the small grinder on the far counter.
"Of course I do. Before cocktails, I made lattes." You grin, almost at ease with him asking casual questions. Before you got this horrible, inconvenient crush, you liked Mingyu platonically. Yes, he was attractive. Both he and Jungkook were, and though that wasn't a requirement for hire, it was an added benefit.
But you liked how he'd spoken with you in that interview. He was much more laid-back and confident, especially compared with Jungkook who had been downright charming, but vibrating with energy.
"And now you own and run a pub. Moving on up that social ladder."
You laugh at his teasing. "Oh yes, in ten years, I'll be CEO."
"Good to have a plan." He sips his coffee as you flip the eggs with a spatula.
"Breakfast is only eggs and toast. I sadly have nothing more interesting right now."
"Again, very excited to not be the one making it." He leans over to see your skills on the range. "Pretty decent. You work kitchen?"
"Summers during college. I was wretched at serving, so they put me on deep fry."
"Impressive."
"You cook?"
"I do. No culinary training, but JK likes my food well enough. I like it well enough. Friends and family like it well enough." You can feel his eyes on you as you turn off the stove and set out the eggs on two plates. "I'll cook for you sometime."
The plate you're holding clatters as you almost lose your grip. The toast pops up right then so you don't say anything, buttering and place the bread next to the eggs. You set the plate in front of him before grabbing a fork and knife.
You imagine what it would be like to see Mingyu in the kitchen. What it would feel like to have him make something for you. Because he wants to. Not because he bartends, or is your employee.
"Eat up," you say before grabbing utensils for yourself and eating where you stand, across from him. He takes a few bites.
"S'good." He chews for a few seconds, eyes on you.
You pick at your food, appetite stunted from the whirling in your brain.
"Hey."
You look up and he's leaning over the counter. He kisses your forehead before sitting back down.
"What…what was that for?"
"Can see you overthinking."
You sigh. "You could see it, huh?"
He dips a corner of his toast in the runny yolk. "Yup. Your face shows a lot."
"Great."
He shrugs at your annoyed reply. "I like that about you." He takes another bite, finishing it before saying. "I like you."
That hits you like a cartoon anvil from Acme. "You—"
He sips his coffee, unflustered by his own words or your reaction. "I thought about not telling you that. Not right now, since you're probably trying to figure out how to get us back to our 'professional' relationship." The finger quotes really are unnecessary. "But since I know you didn't even believe I wanted to kiss you that night, I figure I should just say it."
You swallow.
"And no, I don't mean as just a friend." He rests his chin on his hand, awaiting your response.
"You still work for me."
"I do. And I like working for you."
"It makes this…worrying."
"Does it?" His casual attitude about it all prickles. "I don't believe you would ever use the fact that you're my boss in any way that would be worrying. I like working bar. I like working with my best friend. I like having the freedom pursue my photography around my steady job. I don't see why any of that has to change."
You groan and cover your face. "You make it all sound so reasonable."
"There's no reason why it shouldn't be."
You uncover your face, and move to toss the rest of your food.
"Hey, don't throw it away. I'll finish it."
You shake your head and set the plate next to his.
"What about Jungkook? What if he thinks I'm showing preference to you?"
Mingyu says your name, very no nonsense. "And I could probably punch him."
"Like that makes it better." You walk over to the couch and plop on it. "Like this isn't just a serious breach of professional behavior."
"Pretty sure it was a serious breach last night."
You groan again, letting yourself fall across the sofa properly. He's chuckling and you lie there for however long. You hear him get up and rinse off the plates and silverware. Eventually, he's lifting your feet to sit on the couch, letting your legs fall across his lap. You lift your head to look at him, otherwise don't move.
"So…madam boss…"
You wince at the title, but he's grinning.
"The question is, do you like me?"
You sit up, swinging your legs off of him. "You don't know?"
"You spend more time denying things," he accurately pins you. "And worrying."
He's been so honest, so upfront with you. You can't lie. You can't evade. So you just say it: "I've liked you for so long, I hoped maybe it would go away after awhile."
"That's a bit insulting."
"Sorry."
He purses his lips, thinking. "We can stop it. Now. Before we get any deeper in this." He tips your chin up. "Your call. I don't want to persuade you to be with me."
"You really want to…to date?"
He kisses your nose. "I want to wake up next to you in the mornings." He moves to your lips. "I also want to be the person you ask for help. Or I guess, with you, the person who forces you to accept help when you have too much on your plate."
"It worries me how much you know me." You kiss him back, hands on his shoulders as you rise up on your knees. He holds you by the waist, pulling you even closer, so you're practically on his lap.
"Well, I've been paying attention to my very hard-working, sweet but fair employer for the past two years." He stares at you for several seconds. "Now tell me…what do you want?"
"You."
That self-satisfied smile.
"But I don't want to screw up how well everyone works at the pub." You run your hands from his shoulders to cradle his face. "I guess I could just tell them. No secret relationship. Or hiding."
"Sounds good to me."
"What if…what if we don't work out?" You don't even like putting that out into the universe.
He nods. "A concern, but I think being with you, getting to try that with you, means more to me than whether or not I work for you."
With July entering the year, the true feeling of summer starts lingering in the air. Longer days, warmer weather, and a certain feeling of nostalgia.
July and summer also bring a sense of energy and adventure, which is represented in our monthly flower, the Waterlily. Waterlilies represent renewal and growth, and a sense of enlightenment and spiritual awakening.
It blooms in shades of white, pink, yellow, blue, and purple, adding beauty and tranquility to ponds and lakes.
Rules:
Submission must include feelings of beauty, elegance, spiritual enlightenment, rebirth, transformation, aquatic themes or simply the appearance of Waterlilies in your writing or graphics
All rules of the net apply for any submissions
This is a monthly event, so you must post during the month of July
For writers: No min/max word count, just let the words flow!
For visual creators: Please include at least one element from the Waterlily visual in your work.
Please send all submissions to the appropriate designated channel/thread in our Discord for proper organization
Have fun and don´t forget to support other members by checking and sharing their works ✸
