✧ ⋆˚。⋆𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝒻𝓊𝑔𝑒
ℐ 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒻𝓁𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔
ℐ𝓉'𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝒹, 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝑒 ⋆˚。⋆✧
❦ ᴋɪᴛᴛʏ ● ꜱʜᴇ/ʜᴇʀ ● 23 ❦
𝑚.𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡:
𝑤𝑖𝑝:
ⓒ 𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙪𝙨

Andulka
One Nice Bug Per Day
Cosmic Funnies
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

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roma★
todays bird
sheepfilms
trying on a metaphor
NASA
🪼

Janaina Medeiros

PR's Tumblrdome
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DEAR READER
hello vonnie

Product Placement
styofa doing anything
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blake kathryn
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@tinningtus
✧ ⋆˚。⋆𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝒻𝓊𝑔𝑒
ℐ 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒻𝓁𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔
ℐ𝓉'𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝒹, 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝑒 ⋆˚。⋆✧
❦ ᴋɪᴛᴛʏ ● ꜱʜᴇ/ʜᴇʀ ● 23 ❦
𝑚.𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡:
𝑤𝑖𝑝:
ⓒ 𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙪𝙨
100 followers!!! (╥﹏╥)💗
So I just wanted to make a post real quick to say thank you guys so much for the 100 followers!! It may not seem like a lot but it is to me and I'm insanely grateful that even just 1 person likes my little stories enough to follow for more, it's more than I ever expected because I just wanted to share a little bit of fun for MOAs to read simply because I enjoy writing, especially about my favourite boys so why not share!! txt have really helped me through certain points of my life and I just wanted to cathartically write stories incase anyone is looking for a little escape from their daily lives, so yeah...thank you sm!!! it really warms my heart!!🥹💗🫶
also I've added a page on my pinned post showing my WIPs (works in progress) because thanks to you guys I'm getting a few more request and I don't want you guys to feel left out if you've asked for one in my inbox and I've just posted another so you can drop in there and check my progress with it! (I'm a major people pleaser so I promise I haven't forgotten your request I'm most likely already starting to write it!) ฅ^>⩊<^ ฅ
I've loved writing all your requests so please if there's any you want to see feel free to send them in and I'll get round it!! (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)
- kitty 💗
𝑊𝐼𝑃 𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
𝐻𝑂𝑊 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝐴 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸𝑅 .101
ʙᴇᴏᴍɢʏᴜ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ!ᴀᴜ, ᴇᴍᴏ!ʙᴇᴏᴍɢʏᴜ, ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ, ꜱʟᴏᴡ ʙᴜʀɴ, ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ
ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴇꜱꜱ: 90%
ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴄ: 27k
𝐹𝑂𝑅 𝐵𝐸𝑇𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑂𝑅 𝑊𝑂𝑅𝑆𝐸
ᴋᴀɪ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ɪᴅᴏʟ!ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ, ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ
ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴇꜱꜱ: 90%
ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴄ: 3.5k
-𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑-
𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑀𝐼𝐿𝐸 𝐻𝐼𝐺𝐻 𝐶𝐿𝑈𝐵
ʙᴇᴏᴍɢʏᴜ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ᴘɪʟᴏᴛ!ᴀᴜ, ᴀɪʀ ꜱᴛᴇᴡᴀʀᴅᴇꜱꜱ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ
ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴇꜱꜱ: 10%
ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴄ: 500
-𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑-
ⓒ 𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙪𝙨
hear me out yandere beomgyu that's obsessed with fem reader
𝑊𝐻𝐴𝑇𝑆 𝐷𝐸𝐴𝐷 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐵𝑈𝑅𝐼𝐸𝐷. ݁₊ ♱
C.BG
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ!ʙᴇᴏᴍɢʏᴜ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꨄ︎ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: you have such a doting boyfriend, you have no idea the lengths he will go to for you. Really…you don’t… but you will.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: NSFW, minors do not interact, mature themes, reader described as fem presenting, unwanted advancement(it's actually not gyu), light stalking, murder(gyu is lowkey a psychopath okay ofc he's gonna be doing all that), blood, smut, dom!gyu, (he's a little mean I guess but not too much, mostly just obsessed), him and reader are freaks, pet names, hair pulling, light asphyxiation, rough sex, dirty talk, finger sucking, creampie, I’m probably missing a few but lmk
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.5k
𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ⚠︎
𝙆𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨…⋆˚࿔ okay im obsessed with this prompt anon you really cooked with this, I haven't read many yandere fics but the ones I have oooou they are something >ᴗ< so I really I hope I did this justice for you!!! Enjoyed writing yandere gyu a lil too much so expect him to return sometime in the future!
Idk how common this is in the trope but I thought: imagine if reader was lowkey just as crazy as he is ahaha and then I rolled with it, hope that's okay <𝟑 .ᐟ
Beomgyu has always known from a very young age that somethings just look a little... different to him. Like there's a missing link somewhere in his synapses that carry that vital information of empathy to where it needs to be. It seems to leak out and get lost along the way.
Everyone is just purely so uninteresting to him that caring seems like a hassle. Why keep flogging a dead horse if it can no longer entertain you?
It's been spoken so many times that psychopaths all start the same, torturing any poor unsuspecting creature because it's easy to test the waters that way. They rarely scream and never fight back, they just cower and succumb to their fate at the hands of the superior hunter. The evolutionary predator that is the Homosapien.
Beomgyu thinks it's an overplayed conclusion. A bore. It's a waste of breath to tussle with something so insignificant to receive a brief jump of dopamine just to chase the thrill all again. Worthless feelings.
No, Beomgyu has never felt anything close to what those simpletons have felt. To chase something purely to feed a craving is beyond valueless to him it's barely worth the thought. A petty idea, to bend to the will of someone else, pathetic.
Of course, that was until he met you.
He's met so many pretty girls through each party he tags along to with his friends that he looses the desire to count. Every one is exactly the same as the last and they all start to blend into one another after a while, they flutter their eyelids, laugh and stroke his arm, all waiting for him to give them the same thing; his number.
Why? So they can hookup with him for one night and forget his name by the next. Pointless. Not a singular stimulating thought from any of their dull brains so for what purpose should he entertain any of them for? In fact he's starting to tire of parties all together, the same people rotating with the same people each time and then those people want to talk to him about menial, mindless chatter over speakers pumping too loud to hear. This is a bore too and so he'll leave, slip out the back so no one can even attempt to sway him into staying.
But as he manoeuvres his way through the sea of people for the opening he can spot past the backyard gate, he collides so forcefully with something it knocks himself and whatever was in his way down to the ground. In a split second he's formulating the sickliest sweet apology he can muster, all pre scripted because it's so much harder to fein sympathy from scratch, but he glances beneath him before the words can slip out.
You're a tiny little thing, all doe eyed and innocent until you open those succulent lips of yours "you fucker. Didn't your mother teach you to take a girl out before you get her wet?"
He's fucking hypnotised by you the second you speak. Your smirking up at him like butter wouldn't melt despite the filth in your words, but sure enough you've spilt the cup that was in your hands all down your pretty pink shirt, painted opaque now that the liquid is seeping through the material. Your bra is peeking out; ruby red and lacy and it makes him salivate.
"Are you gonna help me up or keep staring at my boobs?" You reprimand, face a little straighter now while you wait for him to offer a hand out for you to stand "fuck, sorry"
This apology is not rehearsed because it's the first time in his life someone has made him falter, stumble over how to navigate a situation because he prides himself on memorising every single lick of detail about how people communicate with eachother. It's a study he's proficient in but you have him like a goddamn kid in preschool relearning it all.
And you're beautiful. So painfully fucking gorgeous the angels must have wept when you left, gathering the harps and flutes to await your arrival once more.
"You owe me for this. How would you like to pay? I take cash or card, whatever you choose" he genuinely cannot tell if it's a joke because you're smiling as though it is but there's a flame behind your eyes, one that looks a little too similar to the reflection staring back at him in the mirror.
"I'm taking you out instead" a snap decision he knows is right the second you huff a laugh, linking your arm in his as you start to trot away with him in tow.
"Well? I don't have forever, either take me out now or never"
And that's how it started with you, but never where it ends. After the second date you're already calling him 'beomie' and clinging to him like he's the life raft tethered out at sea and he's never loved anything more. You're his polar opposite in every way he can think, dainty and cute and you look like a little piece of cotton candy hanging from his arm while he's all piercings and a swooping mop of dark hair, clad in all the dark colors you steer clear of. He's your perfect accessory, a guard dog of a boyfriend.
He use to think people were all sensless and monotonous, he still does but you; the little firecracker he spilt a drink on that one fateful night is never anything close to such. No, you're far too pure for anything this rotten world could touch, a diamond in the rough. He would quite literally torch the earth to see how the glow bathes you golden, watch you dance in the flames.
But to you, he's all smiles and 'yes, baby'. He holds doors for you like a gentleman does and pulls chairs out for you to sit on. His job pays him little but it's the only thing worth his time (apart from you), stacking the library shelves with books of vast knowledge on anything he can set his mind to, and no one to bother him with menial questions. With the pay he does get it all goes towards you, you only have to take one glance at a bag or a dress in a shop window and it's yours, sat neatly on your bed the next day with a note:
'From your Beomie xxx'
And he has oh so much fun ripping each and every new dress from your body, tearing them to shreds on his bedroom floor because your body looks so much better without the material shrouding it; underneath him and in his bed. He loves it so because here is the only place you smell solely of him, his sheets imprint his scent deep into your skin and his cum dribbles down your thighs to claim you his and only his.
As if his friends and yours couldn't tell already, he accompanies you to most meet ups like a lost puppy and his friends all call him 'whipped', as though he should be ashamed. He's not. When it comes to you, he'd lay down in dirt just so you'd have a carpet to walk on. You know it and adore him for it. You've never felt so loved and seen in your entire life, what's not to love about a doting boyfriend that doesn't allow you to lift a finger? Who makes sure you're eating enough and serenades you with love songs he's written just for you? Who fucks you crazy into the mattress and then treats you like a princess?
You hit jackpot with him because if only you knew the lengths he'd go to keep you content and happy.
You come home one day all sullen and flitting whenever he brushes against you and that just won't do. He's so in tune with each and every little mood you have that even the slightest deviation and he's painfully aware, and when he approaches from behind, wrapping his arms tight around your waist to surprise attack you with kisses scattered across your neck and you flinch, it makes bile rise high in his abdomen. The singular implication that you could be afraid of him devastates his entire self.
"What's wrong with you today, baby? So jumpy" he tries to play off the unpleasantries settling in his gut for you, you should never have to witness such an ugly side to him.
"Sorry, Beomie. Just on edge right now I guess" you gently huff and lean your head into his kisses, but now he's in no mood for that. He spins you gently in his arms, palms cupping your cheeks and without words you know he wants to know all your troubles. He needs to correct them so you can live pleasantly again.
You pout exaggeratedly, bottom lip wobbling as you look into your besotted boyfriend's chocolate irises "there's this guy at work..."
He's seething, the beginnings of a snarl ripping from his throat but he lets you continue. He'll always give you that grace.
"He's so strange, Beomie. Everywhere I turn he just seems to be there, watching me already. I must've told him about you a thousand times but he still asks for my number and claims to misremember me ever saying anything about a boyfriend. He kept trying to touch me discreetly today so I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put my worries from work on you" with every new word you add his blood is boiling, a rage so intense brewing inside his bones he's never known before. How this filth could make you tremble so in his arms when he only wishes to keep you cradled away from harm.
But if he's learnt anything from studying people your eyes are pleading with his, begging him to understand your plight and be a shoulder to share your burdens. He'd take it all on if he could, erase every little negative thought this guy has ever planted in your head and wipe him from the face of the earth. In fact, he'd be doing you a disservice not to. It's his duty as your boyfriend; your protector to do just so.
So he swallows the wrath and places a soft kiss to your forehead.
"Don't ever apologise for feeling frightened or like you're a burden to me, you're my world and your problems are mine. Let me handle this, yeah?"
You nod softly into his palms, he coos and pulls you closer until you're fully embraced in his arms, rocking you in the kitchen as though all your worries can float away with the wind.
Because they can. You've given him permission and he has his sights set on correcting this moral failure against you. No one will ever lay their hands on you and he'll be there to see to that.
He follows you to work the next day, black hood up and you're so blissfully unaware of his presence. It should make him concerned how little aware of your surroundings you are, were you usually this unaware that anything could happen to you? But there's an underlying feeling that you can somehow detect his presence and it's settling you with ease. That's why you're so calm; because your beomie will always protect you.
He observes from afar, he'd never get away with sitting in the actual coffee shop with you or a college coming up to take his order, so through the glass windows will have to do, inconspicuously scrolling through his phone for appearances.
He witnesses with his own eyes just how disgusting this parasite acts towards you, every little thing that you don't; how he stares at your body when you turn your back and Beomgyu is not a reactive man but he just might have to become one, teeth clenched each and every time he hovers too close to something that doesn't belong to him.
It's made even more difficult because he can tell how restless this guy makes you, you're hyper aware of every little stimulus that brushes your skin because it could be him and the phone almost shatters by how tightly it's clasped in his hands observing this.
He needs to compose himself, because this fury he feels will not serve you in the long run. No, he needs to be calculated to deal with this for you, to reserve the turmoil inside until the moment comes.
Eventually your shift ends but Beomgyu remains, monitoring this creep until he eventually closes up, heading out as he makes his way elsewhere. Beomgyu stalks; it's not fun and it doesn't give him the thrill those psychopaths who start small with animals and move up to humans must feel when they do so. This is the exact effort he's never imagined applying himself to, following just distantly enough to not arouse suspicion is tough work when this guy seems to be aware that something is tracking him. But this is for you. To keep you safe so he'll truly do anything to ensure that.
For that to happen, this guy simply has to go. He's too much of a threat to you so each plunge of the knife feels therapeutic to Beomgyu. Perhaps he and those nutcases he reads about in the news have something in common after all, watching the light drain from his eyes, unadultered terror sinking into his bones does give him a rush of satisfaction. All for you. The guy is clawing into his hoodie, desperately trying to grip to life but Beomgyu jeers down at him, biting back the desire to spit his detest into this guys face for it to be the last thing he remembers of this world, but he can't leave his dna anywhere near this. Nothing that could pin this to him.
He's read enough of the books in his library to know the murders least investigated are homeless and drug involved incidents, the lowest of society that seem to be brushed under the rug in the eyes of the law and public. Luckily for him, this creep is the latter, he's already stocked with substances deep in the pocket of his jeans but adding more can never hurt, with the removal of the cash in his wallet and the empty shell of it thrown over his body, the scene looks nothing more than a drug dealers scuttle gone wrong. Exactly as planned.
Thankfully the dark material of his hoodie soaks up the crimson enough to conceal it under any lamplight that shines on him on the short way back to his apartment, carefully peeling the gloves away so he doesn't contaminate the door handles anywhere. When he's inside there's a plastic sheet already laid out on his floor to shed his blood soaked clothes onto and not straight into his wooden floors where he'd have to scrub to remove stains. As far as he's willing to go for you some steps are just unnecessary.
In the process the blood is marring his skin, painting his chest and abdomen red with streaks where he struggles to peel the hoodie off, heading to the bathroom to clean off properly but there's something he hasn't quite planned for. His bedroom door is titled slightly ajar and that's not how he left it, stalking carefully to take a peek inside incase he finds more than he bargained for, and a witness to his crime.
With knuckles clenched and ready to defend, it's all panic and euphoria to find you, tucked up in his sheets. You shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be witness to him in this state because you deserve sunshine and rainbow and not literal blood and guts. You're far too pure. But after all, this is his absolute favourite place to find you, where you belong. To know you seeked him out floods him with the sense of relief he's never understood until meeting you.
Because truly, you've introduced him to waves of new emotions that were seemingly locked away deep inside. You, who is vibrant and adorable and everything right with the world. The only thing right. You've made him so profoundly fucking obsessed, the kind you move mountains for. The kind you kill for.
But the creek of the door seems to rouse you awake, eyes snapping to the hallway where you see your lovely boyfriend, stood completely still, face blank and something staining his skin.
"Beomie?" You rub the sleep from your eyes and shuffle over to him, pausing on the edge of the bed where those blurry stains turn tellingly crimson and sticky. This is the exact moment he's been avoiding, he's never wanted to be seen as anything close to insane by you but if that's what he need to be to keep you, he will. So he's stood, calculating every possible response from here.
"Beomie, you're hurt..." you coo and prance up to him, clad in your tiniest bra and panties looking so insanely ravishing he wants nothing more than to take you right here and now, but he needs to know how this is going to go. Whether the depths of his devotion will revolt you.
When you reach him your fingers make quick work to glide along each red streak, feeling for some kind of wound but with each one you find nothing. He's watching the gears grind in your mind in real time as you realise that this isn't his blood.
"Whose blood is this?" Your tone falls as flat as his face, devoid of the sweetness when you call his name but still lacking the disgust he expects and he just knows; if you don't feel disgust by now he can mould you so that him and that thought never cross wires in your brain.
His hand comes to wrap around your neck, constricting just so that you can still breathe freely but you're stuck in place, held there by a minuscule of his strength. Oh, now he's sure that there must be something so deliciously wrong with you because he swears he hears you fucking purr.
"The things I do for you, baby. You should be on your fucking knees thanking me for it" he's pulling you closer by the neck, growling into your ear and the cool metal of his lip ring tingles your skin when he bites the shell of your ear. His other hand drags your body closer until you're plush against his chest, printing you with the same shade of scarlet.
He'd always thought of you as a perfect little angel, something heavenly gifted to him for some unknown reason but the blood of your harasser might just be the best accessory you can wear, you’re a little devil not gifted but hand crafted just for him.
"That asshole should've listened when you told him 'bout me. Went and got himself a little bit cut up for it, completely avoidable, right baby?" He's testing you, letting the hand rested on your waist slip lower, hovering above your panties and to his delight you're fucking soaking through the material.
"Oh you filthy girl... you like this don't you? Like knowing I'd do anything for you. You're fucking spoilt, you know that?" He squeezes just an inch tighter, constricting your windpipes only a little more and you whimper, bucking into the hand by your crotch, feening for him.
"So good to me, Beomie..." you flutter your eyelids, pleading for more.
In a snap he's picking you up in his arms, hands planted on your ass to keep you stable as he walks you to the edge of the bed, throwing you down because he knows the mattress is a soft landing. You yelp all the same and it lights a fire in his lower belly; sultry, bambi eyes as you look up at him and he knows he's done for. You're his undoing and his only vice.
His entire heart and soul.
He's kneeling before you just off the edge of the bed, ghosting lips above the lace of your panties while he's peering at you between thighs "always told you I'd do anything for you. Believe me now?" Snarling so the vibrations rumble straight to your core.
"...please don't tease" you whine, trying to shuffle closer but his arm clamps on your stomach to keep you planted exactly where you are, wriggling so tantalising against him.
"Now, now, baby, I've earned this. You gonna let me take what's mine or do I have to remind you?" You could stomp your feet, sulk but it's not going to get you what you want any faster, so you concede, throwing your head back in reluctant acceptance "good choice"
He feathers light kisses against your inner thighs, tauntingly everywhere but where you need him most so when his lips finally attach to your clothed pussy you sob unexpectedly, thrusting for every extra sensation you can get. Sucking the material allows all his saliva to soak through but leaves the barrier in place that separates your folds from his wet muscle and it's so frustratingly good.
"...so delicious" but his actions contradict, pulling himself up so that he can see how wrecked you are already, writhing below and reaching for him. There's blood everywhere now, sheening your skin and tarnishing the sheets. He never intended for it to get so...messy. Any other time he'd be repulsed having to clean this up for someone else but you look so goddamn inviting, begging for him even though you know what he's committed for you.
Its intoxicating.
"You're just as fucked up as I am" snaring greedily down at you, your panties rip as his fingers tug them away and you squeal, red lines forming against your hip from the friction "hush, baby. Don't pretend like you don't like this"
He drops his boxers and thrusts roughly inside you with one swift movement, no time to adjust before he's slamming in and out in brutal tempo
"Don't pretend like I can't feel you clenching around me at the thought of me being so devoted to you" he gruffs in your ear, downing out the harsh sounds of skin slapping echoing on his bedroom walls.
"Like you're not soaking me to the thought that I'll end the life of anyone who disrespects you" it's all true, you can hear the squelch every time his hips collide with yours, you're just so lucky to have found someone so unwaveringly loyal. Your beomie.
His hands are both gripping the sheets beside your head, holding himself steady to drill repeatedly inside you but you pull one of his hands to your lips, slipping his index and middle fingers past your tongue so you can suckle, holding such deep eye contact while you do his heart won't settle down pumping blood just for you.
An animalistic gnarl claws its way out of his throat at the sight of you, cheeks hollowed and lips puckered around his digits while you swirl your tongue them around. He could cum from this alone but he's not quite finished with you yet.
"-You're gonna be the death of me, baby"
You release his fingers with a pop, beckoning him to lean down for you in what he thinks will be one of the sweetest kisses you'll grace him with but as he's halfway down the bed to reach you, you're gripping his hair and pulling him the rest of the way by his roots. You ghost your lips against his but never actually kiss there, murmuring "you're not allowed to die, I'll kill you if you even think about leaving me like that"
You emphasise by tugging his lip piercing with your teeth, sending a shiver down his spine. Oh he's met his match with you.
"My god I fucking love you-"
He swats your hands away and holds them above your head so you know whose in control here, constricting how much you can move against the restraint no matter how much you wish to touch him, he won't let you now. He has to prove to you that no matter the obstacle, he'll always outplay it, that he'll cheat death just to remain with you.
He pounces you back on the mattress with a sloppy kiss, it's all tongue and saliva but neither of you care much when there's still blood painting the both of you. It's ferocious and all passion, a fervour to feel deeper and harder.
Bruising against your cervix with each brutal pounding, your legs are starting to tremble with each tremor thrashing you about, now your wrists are pinned under his hand you're solely at his mercy "gonna cum, beomie- FUCK!-" you're actually screaming, a serenade to his ears and convulsing around him uncontrollably, legs now quivering as your body contorts to the feeling of reaching a peak so delectable "that's it, such a good little princess for me"
You're wriggling, trying to run away from the overstimulation of reaching your end and still feeling him plunging over and over "Want me to fill you up?" Nodding nonsensically, anything to have the savagery of his thrusts mellow to allow you a breath
"beg..."
You're so beyond words but they seem to find you in a miracle of coherency "please, beomie, want you to cum inside so bad, need it..." if there's one thing he's taught you it's how to apply your words just right, pushing down all his pressure points until he can no longer resist you. He never really wants to, but sometimes you just need that gentle reminder that you're his.
"So sweet...can't say no to you" in one final thrust he's spewing everything he has into you, diving so deep his seed will have nowhere spill to, your body has no choice but to accept him as it always does. He's all gritty groans and shuddering breaths while locking himself inside you, releasing your hands finally to grasp your cheeks and pull you into his lips again.
"I promise you I'll always keep you safe. This fucker tried to steal you and look where that got him. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever come between us" He's speaking through broken kisses, glancing down between your bodies with his eyes where the blood has dried against both of your skin, the last remnants of some nobody you've already forgotten the name of.
"My sweet, beomie. God help the next one" you smirk because you know your boyfriend all too well. Now he's had the taste of vengeance he'll likely let rip on anyone who even glances wrongly at you. He knows it too.
It's not an obsession of killing, that's the grubby part, the part he has to get his hands dirty for the sake of you. His infatuation runs so far down that he will never complain though, it's his honour to defend you. Your knight in bloody armor.
You've found home in his heart and he'll never let you go now, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @nota10butadefinite8 @buttersoob
hihi ! i was wondering that whenever you finish however many fics you're writing, you could take my request ?
pretty much to sum it up, could you write hueningkai x gf!reader where reader had like a bunch of hate comments or something whenever the two came out as public, and him, the other guys, and the company come out and say something about it, but they dont stop, so kai comforts reader ?
could be smut or only fluff, i dont mind !
thank you !
Oh my gosh hey lovely I hope you’re doing well!!!(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
I love this request sm it’s so sweet im super inspired by this prompt I’ll do my best!! I’m in the finishing touches process mostly with my other fics rn so I’ll be starting this within the next few days!! ★
Just a quick question, did you want reader to be an idol too or just a regular citizen, it’ll help me get a better feel for your vision!!
Thank you so much for the request!! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
Okay so I’m writing a fic for a college au!emo beomgyu rn with him and reader fake dating and it’s at around 22k currently and will probably end up somewhere around 28k- 30k, i kinda just wanted to get a feel for how this will be easiest for people to read since i know an almost 30k fic is a LOT to read in one sitting (˶˃⤙˂˶)
So, this being said would you prefer to read a one shot fic (as mentioned around 30k) or as a two part fic (I’ll try to split it somewhere in the middle at 15k each but it may vary depending on the contents of the story)
It’s my first time writing a fic of this length so ofc I’d love to know the best way for people to enjoy!! ‹𝟹
Upcoming Beomgyu college!au length!
One shot (30k)
Two part (15k each)
(p.s to the anon who requested yandere beomgyu, don’t worry im currently cooking that up for you rn🫶)
hiiii =^.^= could you do first time with Taehyun :3 smut pls
i love your writing btw! <3
𝐵𝐼𝑅𝐷 𝑂𝐹 𝑁𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇 ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱
K.TH
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɪᴅᴏʟ!ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꨄ︎ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: you’re finally reunited with Taehyun after a long tour and all the both of you want now is to explore how deep the love lies for the first time…
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: established relationship, NSFW, minors do not interact, smut, softdom!tyun, praise, pet names, protected sex (yay!), oral (f.rec), aftercare, he’s just sweet
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.1k
𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ⚠︎
𝙆𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨…⋆˚࿔ heyyy thank you so much for the request anon this turned out quite sweet so I hope that was what you wanted!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
this was very loosely based on certain lyrics in bird of night it’s just such a pretty song₍^. .^₎Ⳋ
All things are fun when they're shiny and new. It's just the way it is, nothing replaces that dopamine rush of novelties except from replicating it with something fresh. New cars and new clothes fill that void until you're use to them and the thrill wears off.
Taehyun might just be the exception of that rule for you.
The six months you've been together might not seem like long enough to call that bluff, in comparison to a lot of things it's a rather short span of time but to spend those months by his side is to know him wholly and to never wish for any more because you already have it. Even the brief four weeks he's spent in other countries during your relationship has seemed like a breeze compared to your expectations of the damage distance creates. He's consistently persistent with messages and updates that you've never even felt lonely despite the miles between you.
At the heart of it, you still miss him being only a text away from you. Even though his job is a demanding one and you'd have to meticulously plan dates and meetings to fit his schedule, tour brings a special pain.
So when you opened your door that evening you never expected your boyfriend; the one who was on stage countries away just hours before to be the one beaming back at you through the doorframe. You clung to his shoulders like letting go again would cause sudden doom and he welcomed it all, wrapping two loving arms around you and into your apartment, swinging you with a heart light in spirits. To be enveloped by him once more is all you've been waiting for, and he's here now, finally.
You embrace each other backwards into your bed, somewhere he's yet to adventure, although you're both above sheets and innocently wrapped up in each other it's exciting all the same. Like another layer of you he has to unwrap, the place you call home and your safe haven; and you've let him in.
His fingertips gently trace lines across your arm as you cuddle further into his sweater clad chest. It smells distinctly of being worn, undercurrents of the scent that belongs to only him caressing your senses, the fragrance of his cologne is missing because here's he's not a performer, he's solely, wholeheartedly, yours.
"Missed you" you're sure those same words have been muttered from your lips at least ten times over since he's arrived and they've yet to loose their potency, you mean it as fiercely as the first.
He's chuckling softly, pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of your head "missed you too"
You lift your head to stare into those doe eyes you've missed so, more caramel than you remember but you blame the time for that, for blurring your memory of the intricacies of someone you love "not possible" a restful smirk as you press your lips against his.
Now this you remember, the way he moulds to your form, a hand slipping to the back of your neck; romantic invitation for you to lean into him deeper and allow him to taste you. It's all delicate touches and subtle advances until a hunger grows inside you, one you've been starved of ever since he left and could no longer feel his plush lips on yours. The memory of it has been the only thing to keep you going until this very moment, where you finally feel the itch for something more after being denied.
The darker the night the brighter it shines.
He's leaning closer, you're not pulling away but he's pushing all the same until your back is laid flat and he's hovering over you, the intensity of the kiss igniting a fire that's growing each time you grip his bicep through his sweater. He feeds that fire, parting briefly from your lips to shuffle the heavy material from shoulders to discard it on your bedroom floor, a lick of fresh oxygen makes the flame grow when he meets your lips again. Introducing his tongue brings you a new kind of desire and you make it known with approving whines, only to be silenced again against his lips.
There's something more to this kiss you've yet to explore with Taehyun. Even though you've felt his hands grip your waist to pull you flush against him while his tongue's practically devouring you before, theres something greedier here. A rawer desire then the makeout sessions you've had before, because now it's fuelled by reunion, the feeling that you never want to be apart for so long again.
Before his hands creep any further down your body, they're pausing at your hips while he pulls back to look at you. You look ready to give in already but he has to be sure
"if we go any further it will be difficult for me to stop..."
The look of approval in your eyes before you even speak "I don't want you to stop, I want all of you, Tyun"
You wax your voice with straight honey, fingers wrapping under his belt and tug like he's not being pulled in already by your sultry stare. He's back on you with newfound vigour, there's desperation in how his lips track past your lips along your jaw, pathing a way down your neck but this time it's not empty lust, there's devotion to each new venture his hands find. They slip past your panties waistband, bypassing straight past your shorts but you're not complaining, you're bucking up to up into instead.
The whine you release when adept fingers first make contact against your core has the angels singing inside his head, ringing around his skull until it's the only sound he wishes to hear and he's circling his fingers around your folds for more of that beautiful sound.
"Oh, baby, think you're ready for me already" whispers into your hair before he's glancing to the way your face contorts, he's collecting your wetness on fingertips to then tug your panties and shorts down in one, swift movement.
It's hardly fair and he knows that, if he's to do this with you it'll be as an equal and nothing less; his shirt is the next thing to leave along with trousers but you're whining for the contact you've lost since he's parted from you.
"Patience, angel" he's smiling down at you, locking lips once more before shedding the last slither of material that barriers you from becoming one, his boxers.
You'd be lying to say you haven't fanaticised this exact scene already, him touching you in the places he's about to on quite nights, his voice calling out to you over the phone but you're attention is divided, locked on the image of him on top of you much like he is now. You anticipate feeling him at the entrance of your heat but the beat of silence makes you look to him, pleading with him to continue.
"Baby...I don't have a condom-" there's little room for him to be bashful admitting such a thing, all he cares about is your comfort and if you told him that was a non negotiable he'd be complying in an instant. Instead you give a short smirk before ruffling around your bedside drawer, producing a small packet before him.
"Wanted to be ready... for when you wanted me" eyelids batting up at him, there's innocence there despite what you're asking for and about to do and it's folding all resolve he has.
"Wanted you like this since the first night we met, I was waiting for you" with swoon-full words and swift fingers he's taking the square packaging from you and rolling it onto his length, lining up with you before a final glance to ensure this is your will. You nod surely, inviting the sting of something so foreign entering you.
It's all consuming and constricting, for both of you. You feel full already and he's barely halfway, still pushing hips into you. Your nails create crescents from where they bite down into his shoulders, similarly your teeth dig down into your lower lip incase the screech you're holding in rips from your throat. It's painful but the discomfort is worth enduring for the feeling of wholeness when he's fully seated inside you, both in physicality and spiritually.
It's more than flesh and bodies connecting, it's a vow of fealty, a promise that two souls have linked sacredly in this dance, his lips sealing that with yours as he adjusts his hips to pull out and push back inside you; a steady metronome.
You feel it all, the way he's pulsing even through the thin plastic barrier and with each thrust you're gripping him on the way out, imploring his return, he's obliging you each time.
"Doing so well... feel so- so heavenly" there's cracks in the steadfast image he's built up for himself, but even someone so virtuous has their vices, he's slowly discovering that his is within the warmth of your cunt, the way you're arching into him has him willing to profess each one of his perversions before any higher being agreeable to listen.
"I love you..." now you're declaring but not to any god; to the man above you with glistening eyes looking at you as though you're the last person in the entirety of the solar system "love you so much more"
Wandering hands find their place on your thighs, hiking them up on his hips in an entanglement of limbs, a new angle for his plummeting thrusts that has you lost in the clouds. Fluttering wings towards the sky, he prays he finds his way to you there and it's not long before the tell signs of oncoming release enrapture him, squeezing him for every drop he's worth as he spills into the condom.
"Fuck, made me feel so good, love" sweet nothings into your ear while his member is still twitching inside you, memorising the way you moan at the loss when he inevitably has to pull out.
You took him towards the stars with you, hypnotised and now addicted to claiming your body but even now he can tell you didn't quite reach the peak where the bliss blinds you. It's okay, he'll learn all your ticks and shortcuts to help you get there the more he maps your body, your pressure points are his to discover. For now, he settles between you your thighs, tongue caressing through your dampness and collecting the taste like a man starved. You whimper and grip his hair at the roots, tugging and he's already learning you curl your toes at a partial figure eight pattern.
Your thighs clamp his head but he's nowhere close to relenting the lips lapping you up, especially when he thinks you're finally closing in on orgasm, muscles twitching beyond control he has to hold your hips in place. You bite the back of your palm, not because you're trying to hold it in but because it's the only way your body can weather the storm passing through your body, all nerve endings sparked and charged like the lightening his tongue is creating.
You collapse underneath him in a heap of sweat and searing passion for the man who unlocked sensations you knew not of, not even from your own hands. You're blind as he's shuffling across your bedroom, the distant sound of something being discarded in your trash and the tap in your bathroom running.
A sudden rush of coolness from the cloth he's stroking over your spent body, all fondness as the droplets of water purify the perspiration clinging to your skin. Peeking through your lids, he's one track minded on cleansing you throughly, not an inch of you'll hide now he's given himself to you all the same.
There's even dedication to not only lift the sheets up and over you but to tuck it under your sides in a cocoon of snugness, following suit behind you. His lips place kisses along your spine, hands closing in over your belly to collect as much warmth from you, but not to steal. To share it. As you've shared something so precious with him.
"So good to me. So glad to be back" he's all murmurs, he can feel the way you're begging to rest with the comfort of finally being reunited so he won't take up any more of your cognitive power to comprehend the words he's saying. Instead, he's settling into each crook your body creates, bonding together straight to a place where the glow of the streetlights can't reach, a place in the cloudscape behind your eyes where wings float
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @nota10butadefinite8 @buttersoob
𝐴𝐿𝐿 𝑊𝑂𝑅𝐾 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐴𝐿𝐿 𝑃𝐿𝐴𝑌 ₊˚⊹𐙚 ̊
C.BG
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɪᴅᴏʟ!ʙᴇᴏᴍɢʏᴜ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꨄ︎ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: Beomgyu may be exhausted but he’s never tired of having his fun with you
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: established relationship, NSFW, minors do not interact, dom!gyu, (he’s kind of a brat but lovingly), (reader is also a slight brat), slight somnophilia, slight voyeurism, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation(f.rec), he’s a boob guy, dirty talk, hickeys, belly bulge, slight breeding kink, creampie
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.4k
𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ⚠︎
𝙆𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨…⋆˚࿔ originally started writing this as a lil break from heavy plot fics but I got so carried away with playful gyu, who doesn't want him little whiney and needy heheh ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )
When Beomgyu arrived home he did so with fatigue lodged so far inside his bones, strung around wiry muscles refusing to expand past anything necessary to get him through the door.
Practice had been a total wipeout for him, pushing his body to the extreme for 9 hours straight, repeating the same choreography to ensure there's finesse in each and every movement would be the exact reason he craves for nothing more than to crawl into the snug expanse of his bed.
He stumbles forward in the dark, the hallway light bleeds through the crack in his door just shy of his eyes spotting the clothes and boxes on the floor before his feet do. A string of hushed curses fall from his lips when he stubs his toe on the edge of the bed but they extinguish themselves on the tip of his tongue when his gaze falls on you, wrapped up tightly in the covers, enveloped by the warmth.
He hadn't expected you to be here by the time he got back, if he had he'd have made sure to sprint all the way back from practice, pushing himself to the limits for a second more in your presence. You're fast asleep but that's enough for him, as long as you are in his bed, he couldn't care less if you are awake and receptive, you'll lean into his touch all the same.
You do just so when he slips under the covers, shuffling backwards until your ass nudges his groin. He hisses and locks you in place with a firm hold to your hips, he'd like to at least breathe you in before you inevitably awaken the desire buried within, now it's all for naught because he can feel himself heating up from that alone.
It creeps up his neck until his hairs stand up saluting you, all of the blood pumping from practice going straight south until he's straining against his boxers. Now he's tugging you closer, moving to grind against your soft skin covered only by perhaps the smallest pair of panties you own and a shirt so old he's pretty sure is his. Even that's too much, if only he could rip them from you without so much as a whisper from you, he could rouse you from sleep to help relieve himself, but where would be the fun in that?
He bites his lip to trap any wanton moans from leaking out, instead he gruffs into your ear like it's a challenge to keep his volume to a minimum. In a way it is, the other boys are only a few rooms away and here he is, rutting into your warmth like a dog in heat.
And god is it warm. The space between your thighs and your cunt is his own personal heater and it boils his blood until there's no where left for him to expand, your skin is engulfing him.
He looses sense somewhere between the soft sounds you make in your sleep and how zealously you push back against him.
"gyu?" You pine, head thrown behind you to see the mop of dark hair on the pillow glance up at your signal.
"Fuck, wasn't suppose to wake you..." whining straight into your ear, nipping where your neck begins before biting your shoulder. No, you know Beomgyu, he was simply testing how much he could get away with before you awoke. He's far too mischievous to play the aloof game and fool you.
Beomgyu, who is accustomed to getting what he wants exactly when he wants it.
His hands try to stay put on your hips but abandon post when you are the one to grind backwards, creating the friction a live wire can when splashed with water. They explore your skin like he doesn't know where to settle first, too impatient to pick a spot and remain there for longer than a second, far too greedy for that.
His greed leads them to slip around your front, holding your shoulders back in place so you stick to him, nowhere to escape "wanna be inside you so bad, please"
His whimpers pathetically beautiful, sickeningly convincing.
You nod viciously, pushing your ass back as if he needs any more persuading, his hard on is pulsing between your thighs in anticipation.
"Nuh uh, baby, use your words...gonna have to beg for it" fingertips reach to shroud above your pulse point, he doesn't need to squeeze, just the implication that he can is enough to satiate the imp inside. You can't see his face but you can see the way his lips curl into a snarl in your minds eye, he's having fun and you are too needy to snap back so you concede.
"Please, gyu! want you so bad..."
"Well in that case, should've just said" a wry laugh follows, unwrapping himself from behind you to lay you down on your back, climbing on-top of you in claiming while slotting between your legs. His hand hooks under your knee, resting your leg along his hip bone for unobstructed access to peel away your panties and throw them uncaringly, hoping they land somewhere in his sheets and you forget. A memento on lonely nights until you're in his bed again.
He sheds himself of his boxers, stroking himself and you watch in expectancy, mouth watering from the sight of him in the low light before he falls forward, a hand resting by your head to hold himself up. You feel his tip nudge your clit and he laughs when you whine at the contact, making sure to circle slower to see what noises he can draw out of you from this alone. You sound so pretty like this, your attempts to stifle your moans and bucking forward to accelerate his tempo feeds his ego just enough to begin to push himself inside your entrance.
He takes his time with this too, dragging sluggishly as your walls swallow him up just so he can watch the way your eyes roll to the back of your head, the pretty whites like beacons of bliss.
Pushing forward, each inch of him stretching you makes his hips stutter the more resistance he feels, now he's the one whining "Baby, loosen up, can't get inside if you're this tight!"
Legs locking around his hips, you drive him forward the rest of the way until he's filling you up to the hilt, fighting the twitch he's desperate to surrender to and send him and yourself straight into overstimulation the very moment he's inside. Gods above, if he could just set his mind straight he'd be pounding into you already, the delicious constriction of your cunt begging to be plummeted into "baby... f-fuck!"
You're gushing around him, body commanding him before your mouth ever could but you try anyway "m-move- hmpff-"
Attention snapped straight to you, smirking at how fucked out you already look, eyes glossy and threatening to stare at the void behind your eyelids once more "so fuckin' needy..." his hips snap and you cry out, a hand flying to your mouth like it can ingest the the sound so obviously tells what he's doing to you.
He stills for just a second, gripping your jaw between his fingers and a devilish pout on his lips "awe, pretty baby can't keep her mouth shut... better keep quite if you don't want the guys to hear" cooing, his bottom lip juts in a mocking taunt, eyebrows furring with faux concern for you and in return your cunt squeezes tight; a vice, testing to see if he'll falter.
Your jaw is locked tighter, enforcing that the only place you're looking is directly into his hazy pupils, not enough to seriously hurt but you feel the rush of numbness in your gums and welcome the sting. He likes to play this game, masquerading that you don't have this much control over him and he holds the reigns but you love to tug them, watch when they drag so blisteringly through his palms and he's faced with the reality that, in fact; he'll subjugate every time to the rapturous pleasure you feed him.
"Do that again and I'll be deciding if you cum or not" hissing in your ear before releasing you from his grip again, resuming his assault and pounding so deep the rhythmic slapping sounds ring out in the dim room.
"...so mean, gyu" you whinge, pleading to his better nature playfully but he already seems too far gone in nirvana to give you a coherent response. His eyes screwed shut and suppressing the need to bust at each little flutter your cunt makes.
"This pussy's gonna be the death of me"
If so, he'd let the cold brush of everlasting darkness in and consume him, let the reaper carry his bones away but leave behind everything that remembers how you feel and that's where he'd like to remain for eternity. You can feel his hands all over you, touching, groping as he pleases, fingers greedy when they slip under your shirt to kneed the supple mound of your breasts. Your nipples pebble under the calloused pads of his fingers, twisting and releasing to watch them bounce from the shock of each thrust.
Your skull rolls back on the pillow when you feel his tongue attach in replacement of fingertips, the filthy sound of suckling when the wet muscle circles over your nipples, rapacious for the way you taste. Your own finger card through his brunet strands, auburn streaks in between flushed skin, you tug a little at the roots. It earns you a succulent whine, the vibration permeates straight through you and his lips detach ever so slightly to leave a hot trail of kisses along the rest of your breasts, saliva smearing everywhere he reaches. It's messy. You don't care.
He's leaning himself up, weight rested on his knees so he can admire his work. Now that his eyes have adjusted to the dusky room and he can see the subtleties, streaks of sapphire moonlight leaks through the blinds and paints his saliva on your body with a shimmer. Underneath, your skin is beginning to with bloom magenta bruises made by his lips, branded by his ardor; his fingers trace each and every one flourishing and pride bubbles deep in his gut.
"Fuck, you're gorgeous..."
His appetite is insatiable, eyes stalking you with predatory precision, he needs to see where the two of you connect; where your pussy consumes his length with every thrust so his gaze follows each curve on your body further down. He's so close to being gifted with the appetising sight but before his eyes can continue that journey they land on your lower stomach.
"Holy shit! is that me?"
He's exclaiming completely astounded with far too much volume in cadence with the silence in the dorm but he's completely apathetic towards it, how could he find a tether of care when he's witnessing the bulge he's making in your tummy with his own eyes?
"Fuck, you see that? That's me right there, baby, see how you're stretching around my cock?" You hear him babbling but you're muscles are far feeble to hold your own weight, from where you're laid he's utterly hypnotised by the way your skin rises and falls each time he's ramming into you, fawning over the view.
His fingers skim the indent, testing the feeling when his palm pushes down and you both moan together in harmony from the newfound sensation.
"-feel how deep I'm fucking you?" He growls, gripping your thighs as he throws them over his shoulders. There's more steadiness to each piston of his hips this way and enough elevation for the bulge to grow. It's overwhelmingly carnal for him; the sight so sensually animalistic it's awakening an instinctual urge to claim you, fill you to the brim with his cum and fuck it back into you when it spills out. Eyes blown wild and chest heaving, he's perusing it with fervour, he'll keep diving inside until you're both seeing white.
"...made for me, take me so well" muscles screwed tight, you can see his abdomen tense as he moves like a rabid animal and you just have to touch, reaching out you feel his veins cable as they pump scorching blood, a fiery incineration inside his vitals.
Lurching forward again-chest to chest, face to face, stars twinkling when he's looking at you with adoration tumbling like a roulette wheel destined for the lucky number 7.
"...Gonna-nghh- gonna cum... inside" barely coherent, he doesn't need to ask, you'll let him, right? After all, what Beomgyu wants, Beomgyu gets, and you'd tug the sun down from its place if he asked for it.
He's loosing that teasing edge the closer he gets to his end, a frantic chase so his first and all thoughts slip out when he can no longer filter them, ramblings of how good you feel and what you do to him; but you, you still feel the itch of recklessness as your own high approaches.
Your hands snatch his hips, stilling him in place with little room to move forward or backwards and putting a pause on his approach, concern flashing through him until he sees your own mocking pout "Do that again and I'll be deciding if you cum or not"
Your words mimic his previous and he slyly smirks when he realises your play, you match his rogue so perfectly you truly must have been created in the heavens just for him, a dash of trouble and a sprinkle of naughtiness by the angles own hand, sure to have been cast out to the infernal underworld as soon as you were sent to earth.
Being said, there's no way he'd let you show him up, antics are his pride.
"You little minx..." with a yelp, your hands are confiscated above your head, held at the wrist by only his left hand while his right clamps your thighs like a vice, holding you precisely how he wants you without an inch of freedom. His strength is purely ostentatious, a pompous show to prove he will always triumph in the game of mischief. You're far from complaint, you're a player in the game simply for your amusement.
From this angle his tip kisses your cervix with each plunge, a loving bruise with each hit and your whimpers a symphony in his ears as he feels you fall apart under him, succumbing to that white hot sear in your belly. You're soaking him and it's taking everything he has to remain focused enough to hold his own orgasm in for that last bit of fun.
"anghh... t-too much, gyu" with your legs twitching against his chest and your hands fighting against his restraint on them, there's not much more you can do to tell him you're passing the territory of overstimulation.
"Be greatful now, baby, let you cum before me, didn't I?" He's snarling in your ear, biting the space where it meets your jaw, his canines scratching. Unwilling throwing your head back only gives him more skin to play with but you're past comprehension, all you know is one word and it's tumbling from your lips over and over; Beomgyu.
He won't last much longer, not with how sweetly you repeat his name, a mantra on the tip of your tongue. You're convulsing around him, clenching so tightly his vision is blurring, it only takes one more deep thrust and he's spilling inside you, pumping as much as his stuttering hips allow "god..cummingg-nghh"
His groans permeate your eardrums before stuffing his face into the crook of your neck, puffing away the exhaustion gnawing on his bones. His entire body weight crashes ontop of you in the process, both his and your sweat makes you stick together but neither of you care for the hygienics of it with his salvia already coating you and his cum nestled inside.
Your diaphragms both fight for the oxygen your lungs lost, heaving with his weight is a struggle but you're in no position to move him, your arms and legs are gelatinous. There's no attempt from either of you as you both readjust to earth gravity after your bodies left orbit.
The feelings all fuzzy after a while, his head throbs slightly from over exertion but he refuses to let his skull rest on the sanctuary of the pillow, that would mean pulling out and you're too warm and snug for that.
Gradually his hands untangle from your wrists, all gentle contradictory from before and it's more than welcome. Your fingers twirl the hair at the base of his neck, he hums in response, eyes shut and full of content. There's a serenity to his features now, like he wasn't just fucking your brains out moments ago.
"Gyu, need to move..." you hush, feeling the numbness in your legs setting in. The bed dips as he hauls his body up, slowly pulling out with a gruff. Steadying himself with a hand on your hip, gently helping to extend your legs out again, each creak in your joints is soothed with a tender touch. Once you're unfurled he's pulling the covers up over the both of you while snuggling into your side, the sheets are a worry for daylight, when it's an appropriate time to wash them and yourself.
"Need'to sleep" he purrs, the vibration resonates through the flow of your body where his cheek is smushed against your breast, adhering to you like he typically does after sex. The unadulterated intimacy surges through him, paints him captivated and clingy beyond rationality. His brain is mush and all he knows is how to be close to you. If it were possible to crawl inside your skin and remain there he'd have already found a way.
"Sleep, baby, m'right here" sleep is fast on its way for you too, closing in on your eyesight when your lids feel too weighty to hold open, allowing its cascade of shadows to usher you into slumber.
── .✦
The shower feels remedial against your frame, balmy and temperate, each droplet a kiss of healing. Your towel is just as rehabilitating, toasted by the steam fogging the bathroom, the cotton cushioning your skin with each swipe.
Using the ball of your palm to wipe the condensation from the mirror, your reflection greets you with the addition of maroon and violet hickeys littered across the expanse of your breasts. A soft sigh, at least they are easy to conceal this time.
You step out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your body to the pile of clothes you laid out prepared on fresh sheets, it's awfully difficult to tug clothes on with moisture still clinging to your skin and you have little worry about anyone other than Beomgyu walking in, they should have left while you were occupied in the shower.
Beginning to unwrap the towel, a voice booming from the kitchen startles you "For the love of god, Beomgyu, please lock your door or muffle yourself with a pillow, anything just so we don't have to hear what you get up to at night!"
You recognise Soobin calling out even through the door closed ajar. You swipe a hand to your mouth to stifle the laugh shoving its way out of your mouth. Your stomach flips but not nearly enough to feel mortified, Beomgyus little habit of an inability to control volume had landed you in similar situations before. Discretion isn't exactly his forte.
Where you once felt abashment now only humours you.
"You should all be thanking me, I gave you all free entertainment on your lonely nights" you can picture the smug grin rising on Beomgyu's cheeks to the others dismay, he misses that link of shame as you do.
"Don't be crude, Beomgyu" Kai chirps up and it's clear from his tone he's finding all this rather amusing.
"Crude? Oh somebody got off to it, anything you want to admit, Huening?" The short sound of scuffle tells you that Beomgyu's arms are wrapped over Kai's shoulder in a playful provoking nature, prodding him into bashfulness.
"W-what? N-no!" Stuttering and flustered, it's the last you hear from the group of boys before the door clicks in place, the silence left behind in the empty dorm. You can't help but smile to yourself, what else should you expect from a boyfriend with mischief as a default setting?
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @nota10butadefinite8 @buttersoob
𓇼 ⋆.˚𓆝 𝑊𝐻𝐸𝑅𝐸 𝑆𝐻𝐼𝑃𝑆 𝐶𝑂𝐿𝐿𝐼𝐷𝐸 𓇼 ⋆.˚𓆝 C.YJ
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴘɪʀᴀᴛᴇ!ʏᴇᴏɴᴊᴜɴ x ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꨄ︎ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀɴᴛᴀꜱʏ
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: As princess on an tropical island with expectations, there’s little in the world you love or that loves you, until a seafaring pirate is the one to show you how to be set free
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: mature in nature, suggestive (there are moments that allude to nudity and sex), smut (it’s not too explicit but I’ve marked this fic as smut just to safe), implied virginity loss(reader), implied creampie, implied cockwarming, implied somnophilia?, kidnapping, kinda switching perspectives, ‘princess’ used as a pet name, soobin and taehyun cameo, parental abuse (nothing explicit), misogyny based on the piracy period, reader called a ‘whore’ and ‘harlot’ (not by yeonjun), arranged marriage mentioned, pregnancy
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 12.4K
𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ⚠︎
𝙆𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨…⋆˚࿔ help I cant stop writing fantasy it has my whole heart, although every time I write it I make them too dark I think so this is *slightly* more positive, there’s still some angst tho 𓏲ּ𝄢
The name chapter temptation has some of my favourite concept photos txt has ever done I yearn for this era with my whole heart I could talk about her forever and pirate jjun has been on my mind ever since i first saw the farewell concept pics so this is a fic a long time in the making. Btw i imagine him wearing all of his stage outfits for sugar rush ride in this so if you need a visual they are perfect hehe𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐
The ropes had dug into your wrists and made seat there, creating crescent grooves in the skin, you had given up wrestling with them a few hours ago; though, you begin to think you should have saved your energy for this present moment, a perfect moment for escape, that being the guards had left and it was seemingly still after the ruckus the ruffians had started earlier. The stench of heavy liquor still clung heavy in the air, smoke from pipes occasionally assaulting your senses. It had to be past midnight at this point you gathered, the occasional snore from the drunkards outside was the only thing to crush the silence.
With a heavy sigh, limbs already ached, you begun to rest your eyes, head uncomfortably pressed against the wooden post you are tied to. It most definitely wasn't smart to let your guard down in such a position, but you found it increasingly difficult to care with how weighted your lids felt. Despite your compromising situation, you could feel the oncoming sleep to be rather peaceful under the dimmed lantern glow below deck, and regardless of all of the above your body begged you to let itself slip under the veil of consciousness and into the dreamland of tranquility. It would have been so harmonious, if not for the sudden feeling of your restraints loosening.
Your hands pulled back to your side, trying to rub away the sores they had created against your skin, flinching away as long fingers reach out towards you.
"Well? You wanna go home or not?" A hushed whisper forced your head to snap up to see who the figure was, quickly finding yourself stunned. A man, no older than yourself stood peering down, a neutral expression graced his boyish features, eyes slender with a soft sloping nose, he looked almost too pretty to be in the place he was. The Pirate Prince, you remembered him being called out to when the other pirates had dragged you onto the ship, eyebrows furrows as he locked eyes with you. Now, those same eyes held none of the same distain, only beckoning you further with his hand closing the distance between them.
Somewhat reluctantly, you took his hand, feeling his calloused palm grip yours tightly in order to stand, leading you quietly past the holding cell that had been your home for a few hours. Guiding you through the below deck area, you pull back once his first foot hit the step to the upper deck, where you knew your captors would be. Sensing your unwillingness to move, he glanced back, bringing a finger to his lips, hushing, silently letting you know that it would be safe as long as you followed his lead. You weren't all sure whether to trust the man or not, but what choice did you really have? Stay a captive in the seedy cell, or the small chance he would really let you go. Suddenly it wasn't such a difficult choice for your feet to pad forward to meet his on the steps.
He holted at the final step, doing a take of the deck to check it was clear before further guiding you round the side of the ship, away from the glimmer of lights that meant land.
"Hey, where are you taking me, the dock is that way-" trying your best to keep your voice down but still let him know you are less than pleased, you turn back to him signalling you onto the railing of the ship. Stunned, you glance between him and where he wanted you to climb up. Oh no, there is simply no way he wanted you to go that way.
"They'll see us if we take the docks, this is the only way" his voice is unusually calm considering he is practically committing treason against his pirate crew, no less the Pirate King himself and the most feared being on the seas, his father. You wondered what kind of lunatic would actually do such a thing, you are no fool, you knew the political battle the royal family had against the pirates, the increasing laws threatening their trade and livelihoods, laws your own father was creating, and ultimately the reason why you were captured in the first place, so the question arises, why would he risk his neck to save yours?
Despite the multitude of thoughts swirling your head, you take his hand once more, carefully climbing the decking. His spare hand connected to your waist, securing you as he helped you up, the small gesture not going unnoticed in your lack of proper attire. That mattered little to you in the moment though.
"Hold on tight" he gently guides your arms over his shoulders, causing a wild bloom of fuchsia to spread across your face, turning inwards in hopes he doesn’t notice, and if he did, he didn't make it known. A curt nod was the only warning he gave before hurling his body overboard and in turn pulling you with. The cool water of the night was enough to cool your cheeks down but even after only a few moments of being submerged it felt as though the water was only warming you back up. You couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes and feel the sting of the salty water, nor untie your arms from around him, trusting him to pull the two of you upwards to break surface. A brief rush of panic floods you, he hardly looked strong enough to lift both of you through the current. All your doubts suddenly ceased as you felt the break of the water line, inhaling a deep breath, trying not to sputter too much water in his face.
Wiping the salt from your eyes, his soft gaze meets yours, raven locks clinging to his forehead, chilled breaths passing plump peach lips but they feel warm so close to your skin, suddenly you're reminded of how close you are. His slender gaze flickers up and down, checking you over. It feels too intense, too intimate, the way he looks at you. To be studied under his watchful eyes without knowing what he is thinking. Your attempt to pull away is futile, he pulls you back instinctively.
"Keep close, princess, I still gotta get you to shore" that's what they had called you when they took you, it was your status after all, you guessed they didn't know your name, supposed it didn't matter. If so, then why did the nickname sound so sweet coming from his lips.
He hadn't even given you the chance to retort by the time he was swimming forward, your back to his man-made current unknowingly pushed you further into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. Almost loosing his breath at the unexpected contact, he hoped it had looked like exhaustion, a shaky exhale leaving him as he felt you grip tightly to him. Not having much room to stretch, your face rests in the crook of his neck, so close he could feel the plush coolness of your lips graze him occasionally, making him shiver, but not from the chill.
As soon as his feet planted in the sand leading up the shore, he could feel your weight slip from his grasp, surprising himself when his arms landed around your waist to pull you up in his arms instead of letting you steady yourself on the ground. The approach out of the water felt harder with each step, not just carrying the weight of you but both your soaked through clothes, yet still, he only sets you down once you are fully out.
Like previously, he takes a few moments to visually check you over, and like before you pull away from his gaze, except now you are physically shielding yourself from him, arms crossing over your chest as you shook slightly from the chill of the breeze against your wet form. His brows slightly knitted until he notices the way your white nightgown clung to you, now transparent and allowing the golden glow of your skin to blossom through. Instantly it becomes obvious why you hid from him, struggling to fully cover your breasts with sleeveless arms.
He choked out a breath he didn't realise he was holding, thinking quickly as he rips the coal black dripping jacket from his shoulders and drapes it over you, turning his back to allow you the grace of adjusting it without him watching. He took the opportunity to peer around to the dock, quietly observing who had passed out along the planks, who you would have to evade in your escape.
You hadn't thought it possible to blush any more than you previously had in front of him, but the vulnerability of you being in such an indecent state in front of a man, one you didn't know no less, your skin was alight with mortification until he had draped his own jacked over to protect you. It was shocking to you that a pirate, the most fearfully revered men on the island, could be so considerate, so gentle with you. As his back was turned, you took the opportunity to peak at the mysterious boy, any thoughts of him not being strong enough bubbled away. His soaked through ivory dress shirt allowed the taunt lines of muscles of his upper back and arms visibility. The more you thought upon it, it made sense that a man of his profession had a physic as such, he would be constantly hauling and carting either the stern of the ship or cargo, not that it made the juxtaposition of his delicate features any less intriguing.
Once he was sure you had adjusted yourself accordingly, he turned back, lacing his hand once again in your own, crouching to gesture you to follow suit in order to be stealthy. Once you had passed the beach, you noted that he was taking you through the back alleys of the town, they were much quieter in the dead of moonlight as apposed to the bustling daytime, but perhaps it was simply because you had never been out this late, usually safely tucked up in the same four walls of your room. That in itself, was its own prison.
The slow ascent up the hill to the royal mansion felt longer than when you would sneak off by yourself, you had concluded that was partly due to the fact you were dripping wet, yet mostly the fact he hadn't let your hand go even slightly the whole time. You hadn't made any attempt to pull away anymore, instead gripping him tighter. It felt nice to be close to someone, after all you couldn't remember the last time anyone had even spoken to you with affection. Your own mother was not one for touches, far more concerned with duty rather than tenderness. After so many years of neglect in that sense, the feeling was all but foreign. So then why with him did it feel so natural?
That was ultimately the reason you noticed the absence of his warm digits between yours, almost stumbling into him at the abrupt stop.
"You can go the rest of the way?" A small lilt in his voice, gesturing with a nod towards the mansion. You look at him stunned, you supposed it made sense that he couldn't take you all the way, he knew there were guards patrolling 24/7, even if he had brought you around the back where the darkness of night swallowed most light.
"Wait- how do I thank you? I don't even know your name…" surely he wanted some form of compensation for his hassle of breaking you free, although it didn't seem that way with how he had turned away, starting to venture back the way you came.
"Don't need a thank you, princess" his reply is casual, flinging a hand up in a curt signal. Suddenly, he stops in his tracks, head turned to the side to speak. "It's Yeonjun" disappearing into the night as if he was never there.
You can only stand still, stunned at the strange interaction with the mysterious boy, who never did ever state just why he had helped.
"Yeonjun" repeating the name, testing the sound on your tongue. It suited him. Clutching onto the still wet jacket, you had been so flustered you hadn't the chance to give it back. The opportunity to give it back would probably never arise, you knew that much, but it didn't stop you from wondering, hoping for a chance to somehow repay him.
You were no stranger to sneaking out from the mansion, your own room had a balcony with flowing vines that aided as a ladder, albeit you found it was much harder while still riddled with sea water. Dripping straight onto the balcony and the floor of your room, that would be a problem for tomorrow, for now, all you wanted was the warm, dry comfort of your bed, where you could contemplate the days events. After all was said and done, much more interesting than usual.
── .✦
Five days pass since your capture and the meeting with Yeonjun, not that your mind had let you forget any details. Even as the hand maidens tightened the lace on your overbearing corset, they noticed their lady was away in spirit, even more so than usual.
"Are you okay, miss?" The youngest of your handmaidens, perhaps a few years older than yourself had asked softly, pulling you from your thoughts.
"Yes, just... preoccupied is all" your reply is as sweet as you could muster, finally breaking gaze from the balcony doors, overlooking the whole town, even down to the port. The ship had been stationed for a few hours, it wouldn't be long before it departs for the day once more though, if your observations were correct. Whether you had noticed it subconsciously or not, the past few days had found you glancing down to the port, noting the ships absence or presence. You didn't know whether to be thankful the distance was too far to see people. The Pirates. That might make your longing to see him grow naively.
"I do hope so, miss. It has only been a few days since your kidnapping. Even your father has relieved you of your duties" she notes, the whole ordeal had shaken the royal family and the mansion staff alike. It seemed everyone but you.
"Yes, he is protecting his political security" your scoff was not unnoticed, it was well known around the mansion staff how observant and sharp eyed the princess was, your quips were a common occurrence, your royal education did little to tame your wild manner. Half were impressed, the others distained. A few of your suitors had turned you down for reasons as such, unbefitting of a lady, let alone a princess. Of course, that was all kept hush by the king himself, he would not allow it to deter future suitors, one's hopefully with more wealth and status than the last.
"Be that as it may, your father is still worried for you, miss" you could only roll your eyes, clothing finally well adjusted and ready for royal breakfast.
It was a drag, as it was every day, curt smiles and 'yes, mother' spoken over the lavish dining table, exhausting you to the core. Enough time had passed where you could excuse yourself without raising suspicion, glancing nods to the staff that passed you as you made the ascent to your chambers once more.
One good thing that had come from the incident, was that no one, not even your father objected to you wanting to spend time in your chambers, albeit two guards stationed outside your door, but otherwise unaccompanied. It gave you time to take off the suffocating over dress, stripping only to the corset and bloomers, much easier to slip out unnoticed. You glanced at the jacket you had successfully stuffed under the bed, your reputation would be all but soiled if anyone had found a man's jacket in your quarters. It was a quick decision, wrapping it over your clothes, dismantling the ladylike look you detested so. Unwrapping your hair in the same fashion, letting it flow down wild, tiny curls framing your face. Smudging some powder left on the dresser onto your cheeks, you glanced over your reflection, it was now much less obvious of your social standing, ready to chameleon into the bustle of the market.
Climbing down the vines of the balcony as you had many times before, you took no more thought to your royal life, becoming one with the townsfolk.
The market was as full of life as it ever was, trades people hollering for sales of their goods, the sizzling sound and succulent smells of grilled meats surrounded each crowded street, inhaling the scent of the booze filled taverns, you never felt more alive.
No one to recognise you, tell you what superficial duties you had to fulfil next, nobody paid any attention despite you being in the middle of the street unless it was to hustle past. Fundamentally invisible, you wouldn't have it any other way. You had paid your local stalls a visit, the ones with the decadent displays of fruits, all colours and sizes and flavours, offering small conversations to the stall owners. If only you had been more invisible.
Yeonjun had managed to slip away from the ship unnoticed during deck duty in the early hours of the morning. Now while it was true he loved his life on the open sea, it remained that he needed time away from his crew, more so the demands of his father. Time that was just his, whatever plans were up to him and only him. He'd often find himself frequenting the stalls where the freshest fruit was sold. He had come into acquaintance with the stall owner, would give him discounts not because he was the Pirate Prince, but because he would help collect the fruit on occasions. Came to discover he enjoyed escaping his title, free from responsibility.
That's why this was the last place he expected to see you.
One second your hand had reached for a ripe peach and in another your wrist was gripped tightly, the force alone pulling you along with whoever the assailant was. A wave of terror washes through you, reminiscent of when you were taken only days ago pulsing through your veins, so much it hadn't occurred to you to take note of who was guiding you down a tight, quieter alleyway.
"What the hell are you doing here, princess. You got any idea how dangerous it is?" He spits out his question, that voice is all too recognisable, the delicate graininess that only belonged to him, Yeonjun.
"Y-Yeonjun?" You ask almost timidly, gaining courage to look up at him. It shouldn't be possible for him to look any more exquisite than he did bathed in moonlight, but now you could see his features, really examine them. Brows furred made his eyes even more cat like, a small beauty mark sits just below, a kiss from whatever celestial being had created him. Lips downturned and so full they looked pillowy, a work of art.
He found himself holding up no better, he could feel his frustration faltering looking upon your confused features, big round eyes staring into his own while your plush lips trembled slightly. Why did you have to make it so difficult when you stared at him as such?
"You hear a word I just say?" His harsh words betray him, a defence mechanism to ensure you wouldn't pick up on the way he ogles at said plush lips too long, how soft they would feel against-
"I heard, I just doubt it's any of your concern" it wasn't the first time you had been addressed in such a hostile manner, it was only instinct to retaliate the energy.
"It kinda is since I risked my neck breakin' you out. My whole crews been going crazy tryna figure out how you escaped" you noticed he spoke more plainly than most people you had ever interacted with did, a slight accented tone to his words he no doubt picked up living life on the seas.
"I never asked for your help, I'm not some damsel in distress. I don't need rescuing" your whole life you had been sheltered, treated like a porcelain doll sat on the highest shelf, the last thing you needed was him treating you the same. The more he glanced down at your smaller frame below him, the less your words made sense, you practically trembled under his gaze. He figured the last thing you'd want would be to admit as such, he promptly releases your wrist that he only just realised he was holding onto the entire time.
"You're right, it's not my concern" backing up in such a small alleyway wasn't much of an option, taking his cue to turn on his heels and attempt at leaving. This time, he felt your hand wrap around his arm, halting him from going further.
"Wait I- I'm sorry. I mean, you did help me" words begin tumbling from your mouth, his head cocks to show he's listening.
"I have your jacket, thank you for lending it to me when I was- wet" you almost blush again from the memory itself. Unknowingly a smiliar flush creeps up his neck at the realisation you were wearing his jacket still, a strange feeling of pride settling somewhere deep down.
"That's okay, uh- you can keep it" Hesitating for just a second, you lift the jacket back over your shoulders.
"You have anywhere you need to be, princess?" Confused by his question, you glance to him, a small smirk finding its place upon his lips. He looked rather handsome when a frown wasn't hung on his features.
"-no, I mean I'm not suppose to be away from the mansion, I sneak out sometimes-" words keep tumbling from you in the heat of your embarrassment.
"Then follow me, princess" his smile looks softer now, holding his hand out beckoning you to follow his gesture, mirroring when you had first met.
"_" you simply state, taking up his offer, lacing your fingers around his palm. You detest your birth given name, only a representation of a long line of mothers as cold as your own, instead you'll give him a nickname gifted to you by the one person who cared enough to notice your recoil upon the utter of your name, a handmaiden of years long gone. She was discharged for the same consideration she showed to you, of course there is not a place for that in the palace of ice.
"My name, it's _, just incase 'princess' gets old" your giggle illuminates his insides, feeling the fluttering flush through his stomach.
"I happen to like 'princess'" he smirks. "_ is nice too, pretty" he presses forward to save himself the embarrassment of facing the repercussions of the compliment that he let slip. You were thankful nonetheless, his lead saved you from him seeing the deep crimson flush on your cheeks.
Like before, he led you through the crowds gathered in the square, past every single soul in sight and out onto the open fields on the hills, trudging through the long grass just before the tree line, the ones further inland from all the palm trees scattered near the coast. An array of colours flooded your eyes, decorating the tall trees were fruits you could only dream of, the juiciest and ripest looking you had ever seen. He lets go of your hand, turning back to see your concentration glued to the peaches hanging.
"I come here sometimes to collect the fruit for the old woman who runs the stall at the market, it's harder for her to get up the trees these days" he states, starting to climb the tree with practiced ease, perching himself on one of the lower branches and reaching for the lower hanging fruit.
"I thought you pirates all had sea legs, how come you've found yourself work on land?" Your question causes a laugh to escape him, stabilising himself with a hand on the trunk.
"We do, mostly. I love the open sea more than anything. Sometimes it's just nice to stay...grounded, for once" he opens up for the first time in- well, forever. He doesn't exactly have the kind of relationship with his father where they can talk about anything and everything. It's all raids and spoils and treasure, it's nice to talk about anything else.
"What's it like out there? I always look out from my balcony and imagine how the salt air feels" you plant yourself along the blades of grass under him, fingers dancing with the lace trimming of your bloomers.
"It's like... freedom. Even when the crew are barking orders at one another, it's like it's just you and the endless blue. It listens. It doesn't need to respond, ask it any questions and you'll only get the roar of the waves in response, but you don't need anything else" he pours out and you listen, really listen. Like the sea, you hadn't even responded yet and he already felt heard.
"You make it sound so beautiful" you're envious he gets to feel that freedom every day of his life.
"What's that palace like? Bet those fancy dinners are really something, huh?" he asks not out of curtesy, but because he truly cares about how you respond, sensing the tint of sadness in your tone.
"Suffocating. I mean- I know I'm beyond privileged, I have so much more than a warm bed and hot meals every day. I have decadence, everything in that place is made of silver or gold" you pause, almost unsure if you should continue and sound like the typical spoiled princess.
"-But?" Coaxing you for more.
"-But I hate it. It's lonely. My handmaiden has shown me more affection than my mother ever has in my entire life, and she's only permitted to touch me to lace my corsets. I'm just a pawn to my father, I'm sure he'll ship me off to the first prince rich enough with the highest status soon. My whole childhood I was scolded for anything less than 'ladylike'. I'm not aloud to slouch, eat more than I'm suppose to, speak when I'm not spoken to, laugh, cry, scream. I'm nothing more than a bird in a gilded cage" the silence after is deafening, not because he is regretting asking and opening up something he cared not for, but because now he was really listening. It was true you had more than him in riches, but in spirit he wasn't so sure.
"Sorry, that was...too much, you didn't want to hear me complain about any of that" a sudden rush of embarrassment hits you, spilling your life story to a boy you had just met.
"I can be what the sea is for you" he simply says, leaving you stunned as to exactly what he meant.
"I can listen without judgment, I can be here when you're lonely. When you want to laugh, cry, scream, or be 'unladylike'. I can be your freedom" he speaks honestly, you can tell he's being authentic by the soft way his features lighten.
"If you'd like..." he adds causing a sudden giggle to spew. Pride took him over that you were already allowing him to be your escape.
"I'd like that, Yeonjun" his name had never sounded so sweet than it did coming from your lexicon, natural and warm and full of everything his orders lack.
You lay in the meadow for hours, the sun is passing its peak in the sky that signals midday has come and gone but you have barely noticed, for your attention is elsewhere, your conversations with Yeonjun flow as freely as the wind whirls, open in ways you have not been honest with anyone before in your life. Even if you were to never see him again, you could rest contented in the knowledge you were candid with someone at least once. Neither he noticed or cared for the passing time, lounging leisurely with you until he sits with sudden haste, the towing of the bell by the harbour is distant but not indistinguishable.
"Shit! That's my call, Princess. They're probably pissed I skipped duties again" he stands at once, dusting the flecks of dried grass from his trousers before reaching a hand to help you up, leaving the meadow as cordial as you found it.
The market is still buzzing, it will be for the rest of the afternoon until patrons move to the taverns to continue their commotions well into the night. You understand it's far too dangerous to get close to the docks where his ship lays in waiting, from the clearing in the stalls where Yeonjun stops, you can see the crew loading gear and weaponry on board, preparing for another venture.
"When can I see you again?" You look to him with longing, wondering when you can glance upon the cinnamon swirling his murky irises framed by his loose locks again.
"You'll see me soon, we aren't travelling far this time, should only be a few days. Why, you gonna miss me?" The smug grin he sports makes you roll your eyes, swatting him away towards the docks. "You'd like that wouldn't you, pirate" He walks away with reluctance in his step, but not before you remark the softer smile at your quip.
You watch from afar as a couple of his crewmen goad him for his absence, ruffling his hair in a bantering headlock, their bellowing snickers and similar age tell you they must be well acquainted, perhaps even friends, whatever it meant to have them. His life growing up around such violence and plunder must have been rough, from the few stories he told you and your own assumptions but the brotherhood you catch even a glimpse of, you think might just be worth it. In that way you feel envious, though when you spot him glancing back to your direction, searching for you, you might even dream to call him that. A friend.
── .✦
That habit you gained of glancing to the docks from your room has come back to curse you, a pit in your stomach every day you look and his ship is nowhere in sight. The harbour is plentiful of ships coming and going in constant streams but it feels vacant without Yeonjun's vessel. With each passing day you wander further in spirit away from conversations your mother and father make, to them, your distance is fuel on the fire, forging ammunition in their minds against any and all pirates but you find you can't care less, all you know is to wait.
You awaken earlier than you usually do that morning, the amber glow of the sun spilling its rays paints the sky a pastel orange, the promise of another beautiful day on the island. You peel the covers back from your legs, walking over to your window with a yawn and stretch, your eyes must deceive you. There, lying in waiting is the largest ship in the harbour once more, appearing to be hunkering down the anchor, renewing your spirit with it. You struggle to contain your excitement of finally having worthwhile conversation while your corset is laced, it's a waste when you will be fiddling to undo it the moment your handmaiden leaves you be.
You clamber down from your tower and make your way to through the market once more, you hope to catch him where he left you last at the mouth of the harbour where dirt path turns to boardwalk, he hadn't given you a meeting spot, only the promise of return. You use his jacket to cloak yourself from prying eyes when you spot him disembarking, a bag slung from his shoulder that sways with his step, waving off the same men who he jested with and observant enough for his eyes to place you just past the dock, jogging to reach you.
"Hello, princess, so you were waiting for me" he puffs out a breath, the same beaming smile you remember. "Perhaps I was" there's little in you to care that your joking defences are laid down, perhaps what they say is true, that distance does make the heart grow fonder.
"Tell me all, where did you travel to this time?" There's wonder in your voice that makes him swell, so intrigued by his adventures and whereabouts with more rejoice in your spirit than he left you with. He's thankful that he only has tales of camp arrangements and trading to tell you off this time, you know him a pirate but to save you of the gruesome details some of his trips entail is a blessing. Perhaps he doesn't deserve what he has with you, whatever this is, if you knew some of the things he's done to get by you might run for the hills, taking the fondness you hold for him with you. He would risk it all to protect that.
Before he forgets, he slings the bag down and digs in to produce all sorts of gifts and trinkets from the neighbouring island for you, gold coins no longer in circulation but ornate in detail, a compact mirror he had traded for and bracelets made of native shells that he told you was handmade. You're giddy with gratitude, the way you accept his gifts makes him want to rip the sun and the moon down from the sky to gift you, for you are too precious to choose which one he will pluck, he'll give you both.
You spend the day strolling around the market, his venture meant fresh funds that he could spend on you, more trinkets for your collection and the meat skewers that had infiltrated your scents and rumbled your stomachs. The way you tease him by dangling the food in-front of him and pull away before his jaw can snatch it from your grasp, your laugh ringing in his ears will stamp itself in his memories.
Graced with a rest day that goes by quicker than he kept track of regrets him by the end, the setting sun is mocking of places he still wanted to take you, things he wanted to show you. He would have to steal those moments for you for the next week he'll be stationed at the port, and in turn you will steal them too from your time at the palace.
Sunlight is replaced with lantern light along the docks and people gradually vacating the market space. "Thank you for today, it was the most fun I've had in... well, ever I suppose" you chuckle, for it's not a sorrowful confession, as much as it sounds, it's enlightening, he feels pride that he can give that to you.
"I'm glad I was of service to you" he bows in imitation of the interactions you face daily, standing again to see your sorrowful fixation. At first he thinks he's triggered a regression from you, crossing the line of mocking what you have told him only makes you feel trapped, but looking into your eyes it's something else, something that looks like you don't want the day he's given you to end.
So he makes a quick decision, gathering your cheeks in his palms and pressing a tender kiss to your lips, one long enough to feel his heart kick against his chest and to give you something to long for when he parts. Your eyes are dazed when he looks at you once more, stroking your cheek briefly as he pulls away with a smile "meet me this time tomorrow, there's something I want you to see"
He thinks the sight of you stood there, fingers brushing over your lips where his just were might be the most alluring sight he's ever been blessed with, and he's been witness to to jewels and riches of all degrees, locations you can only dream up. You're radiant, if he could see only one sight at deaths door, he'd choose you every time. It burns to stop staring, but eventually he must, ensuring you haven't bewitched his feet straight through the floorboard and into the cold rush of sea water. Thankfully most of the crew would be in the tavern in town this time of night, a straight path should lead him right to his cabin. It's never so easy for peace and quiet on the ship though.
"And who would that fair maiden be then, Yeonjun?" His heart drops to the soul of his feet, ceasing in his tracks like a man accused. Spinning on his heels, preparing to lie his heart out, his breath exhales relieved to see Soobin lounging on his bed and Taehyun reading through papers on his desk. His brother's not by blood but by a bond stronger than that, his closest confidants.
"You scared the shit outta me!" Yeonjun hisses, pushing his door shut in an instant, now his worry is to eliminate anyone overhearing the conversation he knows is inevitable, not a chance they'd let this go.
"You'd better start talking" there's a mischievous glint to Soobin as he tauntingly kicks his legs up behind his sprawled out body like school girl mockery, stomach to the bed. Taehyun is quieter, leaned against his desk yet he can tell he is just as curious.
"What do you want me to say?" Yeonjun flings his hand up in defeat, willing the ship to swallow him whole and drag him under the riptide, anything to avoid this.
"Hmm, I don't know, how about you start with telling us about the girl we saw you locking lips with there? That'd be a good start" Soobin sardonically answers, sitting up properly now his point is across, purely curious. "Really, Jun, it's like you wanted to be caught" Taehyun adds unhelpfully.
Yeonjun can only whine, burying his face in his hands, much to the two boys dismay. He throws himself on the bed next to Soobin and prays to a higher power he won't have to admit this to them.
"She's...she's... yeah..." they don't feel the need to verbally push more, this is more serious than they originally thought. Like a lovesick boy he's struggling to articulate his feelings and it's a look they've never seen on him before. Almost sickeningly sweet.
"She's amazing. She's like this little ball of light and she's better than me in every way" all the words he wants to describe you with escape him and become rudimentary, yet everything he could say has already been picked up by the observant boys. These are not the words of a boy fooling around, they're the words of a man in love.
"And ravishing" Soobin adds with a giggle, earning himself an elbow from Yeonjun for his crudeness and audacity. "Calm, I'm only fooling"
"She sounds good for you. It's about time you found a life for yourself that's yours and not your fathers" Taehyun, ever the voice of reason offers insight Yeonjun already knew in his heart, but put in words turns everything a little more grounded. For once something was only his, what should make him vulnerable only makes him soar. Perhaps that's why the next words spew from his throat before he can stop them.
"She's the princess" instant regret upon witnessing the wide stares of his friends, choked up in pure shock.
"Oh you're in some deep shit!" Soobin stutters a laugh in disbelief. "I sincerely hope you know what you're doing" Taehyun can only puff, crossing his arms with imperious attitude.
"I know. But I'm in too deep now" the thought of never seeing your face at the end of those docks waiting for him sickens him to places unimaginable, agony stricken the thought of never having the chance to kiss you once more. They both see it, there's no use in talking him out of it, lord knows he wouldn't listen if they tried.
"Just be smart, you know we're behind you as much as we can be, but there are things not even we can save you from" Taehyun's words echo as they both take their leave, saying all they can and leaving Yeonjun with all those thoughts ruminating. Somehow, you push through all that doubt in his mind and embrace him in his minds eye as you lull him to sleep.
── .✦
Like Rapunzel climbing her tower, you reach your balcony with the finesse only gained from experience, although you don't find it dark as you had left it or expected it, instead, your handmaiden sits on your bed with a worried expression, oil lamp in hand and standing to attention as soon as she spots you.
"Miss! Where on earth have you been? I've been worried sick, I almost alerted parents to call on a search party for you!" She proclaims in haste, too loudly for your liking to draw in any more unnecessary attention. You hush her instantly.
"There's no need for that, I'm perfectly fine!"
"Honestly, Miss, you look a mess, your hair is tattered and-wait, is this a man's overcoat?" Curse your choice to throw this over your undergarments, now it's gotten you somewhere difficult to dig up from.
"It is- but you mustn't say a word, promise me you won't!" You attempt to subdue, pleading with her as she tries to pat down your appearance like it absolves you.
"I really shouldn't keep secrets like this-" she begins, though unsure as you appeal to her better nature. "-then don't even think of it as a secret, think of it as helping me, that's your duty as my hand maiden, correct? You understand how suffocating this place is, he's just a friend who helps me escape that for a little while. Please"
Somehow that manages to quell her, reluctantly agreeable with how distraught the whole situation seems to make you. You count all your lucky stars that nothing more comes from this, managing to settle her enough for her to take leave for the night and promising to be careful. When your head hits the pillow, you can't help but feel those trinkets Yeonjun had brought for you acted as talismans of protection, stuffed deep in the pockets of his coat, you fall asleep with dreams of him.
── .✦
You meet with him again under the cover of night and he leads you to the place he promised, along the jagged rock line of where the coast bridges the mountainous landscape, lays a cavernous rock pool bathed in moonlight, the waves only crashing enough to sweep through the entrance to the ocean. He leads you with lamplight, carefully placing his steps so you can follow safely. At the opening, he sets the lamp down, jumping only a short distance to the sand-bedded ground, but for a stature of yours, he's not willing to risk injury, securing his hands to your waist as he lifts you down. All it takes is one wrong footing and you stumble forward further into his arms with force that almost knocks you both backwards. He watches the way the moon kisses your skin at this angle, bouncing off and crowning your hair iridescent. Jewel tones emanate off you, a pearl the ocean has bestowed upon him.
Your hands grip his upper bicep, firm muscles in support as you feel them ripple under your touch, ever reactive to you. You both hold your positions a moment too long, too caught up in the feel of each other to care for little else. It's too taxing to let go of you completely, now he knows the warmth of you under his palm he'll chase it until his last breath, so even as he guides you through the cave an arm is still stuck to your side. Eventually you reach an optimal opening to lay together on the cream grains of sand, nothing exists here but the whoosh of whisking waves greeting the shore. He lays above you peering down, propped up on an elbow and brushing each singular strand of your hair like a mantra. You need not say it in words, but something was born here, something so all consuming and rapturous hells fire would snuff before this. When your lips meet again in sensual cadence, exploring the taste of honey liquor on his tongue, you know love true.
You cannot bare to part with each other that night, so you lead him up the ivy to your tower. Like a thorn among the roses in your room, hair and clothes as black as obsidian and simple in creation, he contradicts the soft, muted colours that paint your walls, baroque design missing not a singular detail. He looks as though he's here to ruin you; strip you of every shred of dignity and purity and do it with a maniacal grin but theres devotion in his fox eyes that spills tenfold at the holy sight of you slipping your garments to a pool by your feet, the only witness is him and the moon. You'll shred yourself of that purity before he would ever feel the guilt of it, that virtue was already lost to you years before you ever met, when the mother who told you blood is thicker than water let that blood rot and curdle, lost when you accepted that, for the water runs deeper and cleaner. You'd let him ruin you every time.
His fingers touch you like that thought never enters his mind, only to devote himself to you is his wish, gracing your skin with the slight of his hand. Exploration of every inch of your body and his leaves you privy to the scars that litter across him like constellations, he's reminded of the pain of each one, purified in the process as you trace them over. Nothing is left untouched by his lips, filtering between unbridled passion and pliable worship, your thighs are the gates his hips find home in, reaching depths inside you undiscovered before him, body and soul, threading his fingers through yours. He’s present; it grounds you to know that he is only a breath away.
Lean muscles constrict and contort chasing that pleasure, pulling you closer so that you lay chest to chest with each other, close enough you can see his eyes roll but never lost far enough to forget you. His focus is back to you with every little sound you make, learning what makes your body reactive to him. You think it’s the sensation of everything, holding him so close, having him buried so deeply you don’t know where you end and he begins - but he can see the tiny inflictions, the way he stutters his hips just slow enough to make you chase him. The lips he presses under your jaw, messily leaving his mark as you leave yours across his back, nails scratching to combat the intensity of his searing touch. Panting, he’s desperately devoted to you.
He hushes your own whines to soft whimpers, he's not willing to risk being caught and having you ripped from him, instead he plummets further inside you resistant to leave, remaining right there as he reaches the peak of his ecstasy and even long into the early hours of morning.
He never allows himself to fall asleep, as much as his spent body begs him for the rest, you had given him sensations that simultaneously wore him down to the his last tether and that he now had an unquenchable thirst for. Watching you breathe softly with your legs tangled in his, he would give all the treasures in the world to remain this way with you. Eventually your eyes flutter open to his, bangs falling in place as his head rested on the pillow like an angel had placed him there just for you. You can still feel him everywhere, where his hands rest on the small of your back and still inside you. You both know you have to part before the sun has fully pushed its way above the oceans distant horizon, before the palace is alive with activity, so he'll bask in your warmth for as long as he can.
"One day I'll gift you freedom as the seas once did for me. Now my heart only feels complete with you" he murmurs into your hair while placing a hundred tiny kisses, breathing in the salt whipped strands. You wonder what he means, had he not already given that to you? Surrendering himself over to you had proven that freedom lies beyond your four gilded walls. You wondered if he meant to break you free of your cage, let your spirit run untamed as it's meant to, like his does, and you know you'd allow it in a heartbeat.
Eventually, when you tether away from each other and watch him disembark to his ship, his words feel like an oath.
── .✦
Days turn to weeks and weeks to months of more stolen moments between lovers, your back hitting bed springs at least a dozen more times, enough to subdue his insatiable desire to have you underneath him. Strolls through meadows and costal swimming in the blazing afternoon sun. Bare feet stagger across the rocks like scorched needles jabbing you as you explore the shallow rock pools and the life below the surface. Yeonjun delicately peels starfish from the sea bed of every vibrant hue your eyes can capture for you to see, fingers dipping into cool water to provide you with ornate shells. They serve as mementos while he's sea bound, passing the time by stringing them up into beautiful necklaces to then adorn around his neck with glee when he returns to you.
You spend lifetimes strolling hand in hand and yearning to see his ship in the cove again. Even as waves of sickness float through you, leaving you incapable of leaving your room, your mind is elsewhere, in dreams with him. There you and him are both free to do as you please, fill each other with love to your hearts content. Enough for the lack of time you can spend with one another in waking life. It might just be enough to pull you through another day unable to reunite.
"It's too tight! I feel like I can't breathe" you exclaim, the constriction of the corset like a vice, erupting a wave a sickness to bubble up to your throat. Thankfully, the maid halts her movement, immediately loosening the material to place it on the side.
"Miss, may I?" The handmaiden gestures to your undergarments vaguely and somewhat cautiously, earning a confused nod of acceptance. Carefully she lifts the lace of the dress over your thighs, uncovering more of your skin. Eventually, she exposes the entirety of your stomach, using the pads of her fingers to prod and feel, earning a hiss to click past your teeth. When you flinch at the intimate contact your maid makes, the hands probing your lower belly quickly retreated, a shocked expression plastered on her face.
"Miss, how have you been feeling, any sickness?" The sudden concern was nothing new, in fact it was part of her job to ensure the Princess was in healthy condition, but something felt off with the way her eyes went wide shot.
"A little, nothing overly concerning" you confirm to the immediate stunned face of your maid.
"Miss, y-you're with child!" the response is quick, aghast. You can only choke, stumble over any words trying to form in your throat, coaxing her to continue.
"I thought something might be wrong when I noticed that you hadn't bled through your sheets the past two months, but it can happen without copulation. But now I can't fit you into your regular corset, you're starting to show, miss!"
All thoughts collide and crash inside your mind, little makes sense and somehow... everything does all at once. Something bloomed, here inside the very room where flowers on the window sills wilt and dreaming comes to die. Something that's only yours that can never belong to the claws of the vultures inside this palace.
"You cannot speak a word of this, not to any other staff, my mother or father, promise me!" That you are certain of.
"The father...it's the boy you have been sneaking off to see?" Ignorant of your plea and prodding "No one can know, do you understand me?" It's unnerving to you that she hasn't conceded your command.
After a pause filled with something not too dissimilar to distain, she answers "This boy will not be able to provide for you and your child, miss, and your father will certainly not approve, let me take care of it, if we tell them together we can-"
"You will do no such thing, not a word of this will leave you" patience wares thin and you spit your words, the venom of it clearly injects her, sprinting toward the door and with a slam shes running through the halls. You never did have much faith in her. She kept your promise of sneaking out for a brief while but that was mostly due to your adept skills of never allowing her to see when you had slipped out. Just another body in this prison you could not rely on.
Past everything, you don't want to be present to see the explosion once the palace is aware of your escapades, at least delay it a little while so hastily you tear your balcony door open. You are only a few feet away from escape when gangly fingers grip your arm and pull you back with enough force to bruise.
"Where do you think you are going, little madam?" Your mother, spiteful and vindictive as ever spews in your face in outrage, her frenzy is unmatched as she continues her verbal assault on you. Every malicious word in her lexicon is ammunition against you, uncaring for anything past the family name that you have now soiled. This hate is nothing new to you, you've never been able to reach your mother's unattainable expectations, even when you tried with all your might. Eventually, you let slip how apathetic you felt towards your duties, and you caught the backlash tenfold, more lessons and more studies and it never corrected your mind where it mattered. It only made you distain it more.
She reminds you of all of it now, how your harlot ways would be the death of everything your bloodline had strived so hard for, and when your father finally learned of the disturbance you had it retorted right back. While his words were not so audibly deafening they were painful in ways your mothers could not. He spoke of plans non negotiable that would be enacted on the morrow, trust the diplomat to already have a suitor waiting for you. He was not the richest nor the most affluential candidate in their roster but he was the last resort for you now, the last saving grace for your wretched soul, as your father's words echo. You would marry this unknown suitor as soon as your father's words caught wind and his ships convoy arrived, as early as tomorrow. Then, you would be another's man's property to do as he pleased.
Now your prison was literal, after your mother and father's loathing finally ran dry, they locked all doors and windows in your room, you would sit and think upon your sins before your repentance. You won't let your tears spill and have them the satisfaction of knowing your turmoil, they would misinterpret it anyway- because instead of atonement you think only of Yeonjun, how his essence alone could calm the raging storm inside you and it's the only thing your body craves, especially now with a piece of him nestled inside you.
You bide your time, waiting until theres all but silence outside your door, picking up one of the rocks you had collected along the shore and smash your way through the glass balcony doors. The shards cut at your feet as you climb over the balcony and down the vines you use as ladders, but the grass under your toes is a bandage. You don't even think, your body takes you the distance to the docks, to where you spot him on the way back to his ship.
"Yeonjun?" You wearily call out, observing the way he glances back with shock in his features, fear rising where his senses lock onto you and the look of absolute devastation that wracks you.
"Princess? You can't be here, it's dangerous!" You knew that much, knew that he was the one to empty the barrels for his ship daily, though not too far behind him would be the rest of his crew. None of that mattered.
"I need you, Yeonjun" fresh hot tears stream down your face, breaking every string in his heart. Instinctively pulling you into him, holding tightly to his chest, his arms supported under your thighs to lift you with ease. You felt so frail, so broken he was surprised your legs had managed to bring you to him. Shuffling onto the cool sand just below the empty dock and away from prying eyes, resting you on the slope so he could crouch in front of you, eyes searching to find you.
"Tell me what's wrong" the anticipation of every second passing killing him more.
"Marry me, Yeonjun" he almost sputters at your request. It was something you had both dreamed up before, when tensions had been high, caught up in the heat of intimacy. But the topic had never come to fruition as anything more than that. A dream. Despite his primal urge to make you his by name in holy matrimony, he knew what it meant for you to give up, the only life you have ever known, for his. A life cruel and dangerous, one that something as pure as you should never touch. He couldn't let his selfishness ruin you.
"Where is this coming from?" Against every fibre of being begging him to oblige, take your hand and run in that very moment, he questions further.
"You don't want to marry me?" You sound as though you believed the answer as no, the thought leaving a nasty taste in his mouth as he vehemently disagrees.
"Princess, there's nothing in this godforsaken life I want more than to make you my wife, I'm already yours heart and soul. But when you come around cryin' like this I know it ain't just cause you're proposing to me" fingertips gently stroke away the tears tracks, cupping your cheek you could see it was no lie, he was holding his world in his hands.
"My father and mother, they're- making me marry tomorrow. I can't marry him, I can't be auctioned off like a piece of meat to that man. I'd sooner drown myself than be tied to him for the rest of my life, to any man that isn't you-" your words fall flat in the comforting embrace of his lips as he kisses you, despite the softness, it feels all encompassing, the hand that had snaked into your hair helped gravitate you together. The way he parts from your lips is slow, dedicating every ounce of his attention to boring his stare into your eyes before closing them to speak.
"You'll never see your mother or father again. By pirate law you'd be my wife, but I don't doubt that your father will know someway to annul it if you ever went back. You'll be leaving the only life you've ever known behind. You'd be giving up being a princess, you'll be seen as nothing more than a pirate's wife. I'm no more than a criminal in your fathers eyes and that's what you'll be" a shaky sigh leaves him as he rests his forehead to yours, he can't muster the courage to open his eyes and see the possibility of disgust in your glance and voice.
"I don't care for that, I don't care for any of it, I just need to be your wife" if he didn't know any better he would think that you hadn't thought this through with how quickly you respond, but he did, knew you like the lines on his palm.
"Okay. I'll pull some strings, i know a vicar who can do it. I can have us married by dawn. I need you to go back to the palace, play along and let 'em think you'll marry him, we can't raise suspicion otherwise it'll go to shit and-" his plan is solid and well thought out, perhaps his previous daydreams of you becoming his wife had prepared him for this very moment, but it all sounded impossible to you.
"Yeonjun, I can't go back there, please don't make me go back, please-!" More hot tears spill but this time into the fabric of his shirt where he pulled you tightly to his chest at the outburst.
"Shhh, you're okay. You're gonna be okay. Listen to me carefully, be their perfect princess for one more night. Let them believe you're compliant, let their guards down. By tomorrow, you'll be with me. That man will never own you. I will kill before I let any man own you, so much as touch you. Your body, your soul are mine, as I am yours. Soon, my name will be yours too, but until then, I need you to pretend, can you do that for me?" His request is so gentle, so patient while his thumb strokes comforting circles into your palms.
A deep sigh runs from your mouth, a slight hiccup as you prepare to bare everything.
"I'm with child, Yeonjun" for a moment the words fall flat into the open space around you. It feels like he's been winded, like an actual punch in the gut from shock alone. "I was coming to tell you when mother caught me sneaking out. One of my hand maidens had noticed that I hadn't bled the past two months. When she couldn't fit me into my corset she saw that I was showing, I didn't think she would tell mother so soon, i-I had no idea what to do, that's why I was coming here, to you" despite the storm of thoughts circling his head, he listens intently to every word.
"She called me every name there is, a harlot, whore, but the thing that hurt most was when she said that I was carrying the devils spawn. How can that be true when you gave this to me?" You could see his jaw clenching, becoming restless the more you spoke, probably debating whether to march to the mansion himself and unleash his wrath. But the glossy look in your eyes brings him right back.
"By the time father knew he had already arranged the wedding. Said that this was the only way to save me, the family reputation would never recover if people knew. He said that it would be the only choice if I want it plausible for the child to be his...that I had no choice, a pirate would never care for me or the child, you'd never be able to provide for us, that you would discard us like the trash we are" it's impossible for you to stop the tears flowing, like stating it out loud somehow makes your fathers words echo true. But when Yeonjuns face nuzzles deep into your stomach, arms wrapped so tightly around you the words are the last thing you can think of.
"They speak venomous words to you because they know nothing of me, they think me as cruel as they are. Discard you? You're the only thing in this goddamn world worth protecting. You...and now our child" his palm rests above where a piece of him lays beneath, a surge of fealty courses through his bones to shelter you "Come here" he's all so tender, pulling your head to his shoulder where you let a final wave of tears erupt. In a few short words, he's shown you more love than you knew existed in the universe, something so raw no other soul had ever given you. So you let those tears grieve for the child who feared she would walk alone until the day she died, reborn from them into a woman liberated from those shackles.
"I'm going to take you somewhere safe while I gather what we need, can you stand?" He stands and although he asked, he ignores his own words and assists you vertical anyways, palm never leaving yours as he steers you towards the tavern. Your fingers twitch against his, feeling your resistance not from him but the nature of the establishment you were about to enter. Reinforcing the bond your hands hold, you grip him tighter with faith. "Keep close and your head down"
It's nowhere close to being ideal, if he could keep you free from this place it would already be done, yet the safety that lies beyond the bed of thorns to get there is the only option. You do as he says, you dare not look anyone in the eye as you slip past drunkards and into the backend of the tavern to the lodging, hastily knocking on one of the doors before entering, shielding you in the process.
"Are you with me now as we have always said?" Yeonjun asks out to Soobin and Taehyun who occupy the table centre of the room, cards in hand and clearly unassuming.
"You know we are, what's going on, yeonjun?" They can see the silhouette of you stood behind him, yet to see you in entirety until he tugs you to his side. In other circumstance you're sure you would not cower so from the only other people Yeonjun keeps close, though now you use him as your shield from any other potential threat.
"I need you to keep her safe until I can gather funds and a ship. We are leaving by the morning and we won't be returning" it feels bittersweet, to ask one final request of his closest brethren to part for the rest of their days, the dispiriting feeling only lasts until Taehyun speaks up. "Fool. You'll need us if you want that ship to even sail. We're leaving with you" a spark in his souls ignition, revived optimism lining the curt nod he gives, grateful in ways he might not ever be able to repay.
He turns to you, leaning down to gather the base of your head with his hands in attention, he needs you to see the commitment that he will return "trust no others but them, I will be back to you before you know" he cannot leave before he's observed the confirmation in your features, so once you gift him that he places a fond kiss to your lips, a brief farewell.
As soon as the door is shut and you are alone in the company of Soobin and Taehyun, they tend to you with immediacy, letting you sit with nothing to offer you but alcohol and company and you are beyond grateful for just that alone. You sense why Yeonjun holds them so dear, even from the stories he's told you of their adventures and escapades they are nothing short of brothers in arms, they keep you and your mind occupied with conversation and pleasantries, more than you expect from the rest of the pirate crew just outside the lodging doors.
Hours pass while you all await on Yeonjun, Taehyun had offered his bed when your replies shortened and eyelids grew heavy, only allowing yourself to rest with the promise of his return at the forefront of your mind. And he does, once the clock passes midnight he's walking through the threshold once more, eyes only searching for you. He finds you at the edge of the bed, the sheets haphazardly laid over you no doubt by one of the boys, your body is scrunched in a position that cannot be all too comfortable but on your face is only content. Your body must be so exhausted that he'll leave you sleeping just a little longer while he runs through the plan with Soobin and Taehyun, but eventually comes the time to wake you.
"Wake up, darlin', I'm about to finally make you my wife" you awaken with fingers combing through your hair and his voice soothing you, taking no time to force yourself up to embrace him, that sea salt scent wrapped up in something inexplicably him enveloping you.
Escaping the tavern is easier at this hour, though not fully emptied, the only patrons left are those far too intoxicated to care or even notice, the boys whisk you out with ease. You expect to be led to the deck where Soobin and Taehyun branch off towards a ship humbler than the grandiose of theirs yet lacks no beauty, the sails are of ivory and pearl and not yet sun bleached with wear, refracting sapphire and moon bathed. Instead, there's a rowboat waiting for you beneath the boardwalk, structural posts of oak mimic the trees they once were to hide you. It's darker under here apart from a singular oil lamp centre of the boat when Yeonjun bares his hand for you to take.
"Climb on, love" he's yet to explicitly tell you this is the last time you will ever set eyes upon your birth land, at least from this close. There's a chance in your future to pass by and be witness to the rolling hills and sloping rock pools you once played in, but never to observe the ugliness up close. Never to see that damned palace of wickedness and false dignity. You take his hand with the feeling of absolute in your heart, for this alone is the freedom he once promised.
Pushing the boat along the sand, it rudders until it meets the still of water beneath, climbing up with grace. The sea appears to be on your side, mellow waves rock the boat with steadiness, aiding Yeonjun as he rows just past the risk of ragged rocks of the coast. There's nothing compelling you to glance over your shoulder, a corner of the world you are leaving behind, your eyes hold his, his smile your driving force.
You row for a little while on the bobbing current, passing a few islands of small until a house on stilts appears, tide-worn and weathered but charming all the same. Yeonjun ties the boat alongside a similar one to the post, lifting you upon the walkway and up the railing to the building. He knocks thrice sharply, an older man of small stature, hair streaked white answers after you heard the shuffling on floorboards behind the door. It's apparent the man had not expected visitors, a grumble in his voice that's quickly dissipated once Yeonjun produces a small velvet purse, rattling with coin. He feels the weight in palm, enough to satisfy as the ramshackle door opens for you both.
It's a church not of grandiosity but stark austere, no stained glass like the one you left behind and certainly no gold wear scattered around so frequent it bleeds it. In fact, the only treasure you see is the golden chalice at heart of the altar, so stunningly set it gleams in candlelight. The pews are worn down and sparse, you suppose not many frequent this church and you are the lucky few.
Trained your whole life for a wedding of ostentatious design, meticulously crafted and structured so that not a hair on your head would be allowed out of place; you stand here now, not in a majestic gown but the loose garments that fit under corset and dress, irony for the wicked that its milk white in colour like the one you would have worn. You allow yourself the breath you would not have been permitted, it's not the wedding you envisioned yourself in and you could not be more thankful for that. With Yeonjun facing you, devotion overflows as he pulls the rings from his trouser pocket, they're neither heirlooms for either of you, a scarce amount of love in your bloodlines ensured that. Instead they are hand forged with amity and your own initials, commissioned by him only a few weeks prior by a distant lands blacksmith. The legacy you two have created like the life inside you.
Exchanging words of oath and vow, your names and life are tied as one under wooden roof and moon. He kisses you as deeply as the first time, under the same promise to love you until he is nothing but dust in the ground.
The vicar retreats into a back room once your ceremony is complete. There's no rush anymore, time on your side like the wind in your sails, all worries of a life past flotsam in the undercurrent. You hear the anchor of a vessel cast down just outside, the very ship you had seen in the harbour now stationed and manned by all of two men awaiting on your embarkment, Soobin and Taehyun. Yeonjun doesn't seem to care much for the signal, so you too will reserve your haste.
"My wife. My love. My life. You and our child will know only how abundantly I cherish you both. That, I promise you" He rests his forehead to yours, eyes closed and content enough in holding you as a new dawn spills through the church glass windows, with the knowledge that this is not the end of hardships for you both, there will be times to bend and snap you into different form. He will labour gruelling with Taehyun and Soobin to acquire and trade a whole crews worth to provide enough for your new family, starting from scratch upon familiar and undiscovered tides, a conclusion he would reach every time.
Because if he has nothing but a small ship and a bag of coin to his name, he had you and his child beneath his palm, clung to him like the stars in the night sky.
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @nota10butadefinite8 @buttersoob
Hii!! I was wondering if you could do a childhood friends to enemies to lovers beomgyu x reader or any txt members tbh, I just really love this trope so much, so it would be really nice if you could do it (no pressure!!)
𝐴𝐿𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑆 𝐴 𝐶𝑂𝑊𝐴𝑅𝐷 ‧₊˚ ⚝
C.BG
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɪᴅᴏʟ!ʙᴇᴏᴍɢʏᴜ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꨄ︎ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: Being friends with Beomgyu is… complicated, he always seems to slip from your grasp. When you finally confront your feelings it might just be too late…
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: angst, hints of depression, suggestive content but nothing too explicit, kissing, switching perspectives kinda, Yeonjun cameo(he’s kind of a wingman)
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8.2k
𝙆𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨…⋆˚࿔ hey anon thank you for the request I have a lot of fun writing for you guys so keep em coming if there's any more you wanna see!! I also love the childhood friends to lovers trope so I really hope I did it justice for you anon, I was actually planning on writing something similar soon so it came at the perfect time and I think you got it so right, gyu is the perfect candidate in my option!!
I tried to work on the enemies bit but I mainly wrote the story that came to me when I read the request so I hope that’s okay and that there’s enough angst in here for you!!!
Knowing Beomgyu is like knowing the lines on your palm. Those lines; they never move, hold steadfast on their position like his at your side. They crease to your will as you clasp your fist as he does for you, whatever you'd beg him to do would be done. When you were too lazy to get up for snack replenishment during weekend hangouts you'd whine his name, extending the syllables so they itched at him until he stood and gathered all of your cravings under his arm, albeit not without a grumble and complaint. He did it for you all the same. He would do anything for you. That’s what you always thought.
You'd met one evening in early March, barely 10 and stood stone faced on his families porch along with your brother. Your parents away for the week meant he was the one entrusted to look after you, so when he insisted on a gaming night with his best friend you naturally had to be the tagalong. Not that you had a distain for video games, on the contrary you often had fun on the odd occasion your brother let you play on his consoles, it's more that you knew you'd only be sat there bored while he and his friend hogged the controller, so you stood with a face like thunder and anticipated the most monotonous evening of your life.
When the door opened you'd expected your brothers friend, or his parents at least but a boy your age stood with the biggest grin like he was expecting you, awaiting your arrival.
"Hey, Beomgyu. This is my sister, look after her, yeah?" Your brother speaks in passing, clapping the boys shoulder before disappearing into the other room in search of his companion, leaving you dumbfounded and staring as the boy ushers you in with excitement.
You'd never been in his house before, you'd had no reason to, your brothers friend would usually come round to your home or they'd hangout elsewhere, and you hadn't known Beomgyu had existed until 30 seconds ago; but his home was warm. Not too much different to your own home in truth, but there were hints of life that were simply not apparent in your own, half opened chip packets and game cartridges scattered across the living room floor where the the two older boys sat huddled near the tv screen. The distant sound of shooting and alien chittering from whatever game they were playing but you could only hear the chirp of the young boy as he circled you with excitement.
"So what do you wanna do? We can watch our brothers play games? Or we can go to my room, I have so many cool things to show you! Oh, or we can play-" he hopped around you and the kitchen counter with as much leap in his step as a spring bunny, unable to contain himself at the prospect of having a play mate similar in age.
"I don't want to play" you jab, face sullen as he stops in front of you, pout on his lips in disappointment. Truthfully, he seemed a little too - rambunctious, for you, clearly an awful lot more energy. You're but a child and even you can recognise that your play styles are simply too different to get along. He looks the type of wild to pull worms from the soil and chase with them, and you - well you are a quieter child than that. You'd simply never get along the way your brothers did.
"Oh, okay" you observe the way his small features round to something more placid, less possessed by boisterous spirit but to something softer. Something more observant "if you don't want to play, then maybe you can watch me play guitar? I wasn't suppose to have it until my birthday but dad already taught me a few things, want me to show you?"
He's no longer bouncing around and pleading attention but you look at him as though he were, his quick shift in energy piques your curiosity, how he could chameleon to your exact temperament is bewildering and intriguing all the same. So you bite.
You give him a simple nod of acceptance and he beams back, clearly ecstatic at your approval but holding it at bay for you, leading you to his room where the guitar sits neatly in the corner. It contradicts the way the rest of his items are haphazardly thrown around, toys and clothes scattered to his delight but the guitar sits there like a sacred relic.
When he pulls the strap on and brings the guitar to his front it swamps him, he looks tiny sat behind it but you think he couldn't look cooler. You can try and hide your wonder but your eyes tell the truth. They always have. You gawk when he pulls the strings in subdue melody, rudimentary in skill but he's plucking all the correct notes. You can see he has a flair for this, the guitar that once looked gargantuan in his arms now plays like it belongs there.
By the time he's finished you stare in awe and he smiles in triumph, informing you of all the precise terminology he's learned so far and you listen, even letting you strum a few strings yourself.
That night you discovered two things about yourself. You had a growing interest in guitars, and that you genuinely enjoyed Beomgyu's company.
── .✦
Over the next few months, you'd begged your parents for a guitar of your own. While skeptical of price and the logistics of you actually learning, they couldn't deny that this newfound hobby of yours came with the promise of a new companion, something lacking in your roster. While you were not inept enough to lack all social skills required to make and retain friends, you had never seeked them out until Beomgyu. So they gifted you a guitar and you were elated at the prospect.
You'd accompany your brother more and more when he'd visit his friend so that you could spend time in Beomgyu's company. Most times he would teach you how to play, things he'd learned about tone or which notes sounded best when played together. While he did it was apparent he had a gift you did not possess, you weren't bad at it, far from it, but it seemed to come so naturally to him. How quickly he picked things up astounded you to the point you couldn't even feel envy, only admiration; even pride that he was your teacher.
Guitar lessons were not the only reason for your hangouts, often times you'd just sit while he played or completed homework. That was the thing you helped him with, the gift you possessed. You'd read to him when you'd been tasked with learning chapters for school, he'd always complain like he hadn't the patience for it so you gladly read the words to him.
By the end of year the two of you were inseparable.
Over the next few years you'd collected other friends, as did he, but you'd always find your way back to each other. Now in the same school and only living a block away from each other, you'd walk together to school, sometimes sit in the same classes, and then lunch together. When he joined a school band, he begged you to audition with him, he'd taught you well, you were almost as good as him. Almost. But it was not your passion, it was his. So you encouraged him to follow his desires, join the band he wanted to so desperately and share his talents, after all, you believed they shouldn't be hidden in this tiny corner of the world. His music deserved to be heard by more than just you.
He looked to you with such longing, perhaps he desperately wanted you beside him in the band that much but you decline, he’d do just fine without you, he’d shine infact.
That's why you encouraged him again when he came over to your house one evening with a story of how he was scouted in the street that day, a casting manager asking for an audition, one he refused.
"What on earth possessed you to say no?" You launch yourself up from your laying position on your bed to face the boy somewhat skittishly adjusting the objects on your desk.
"Well, we've got exams. They're important you know" he speaks without looking up, probably somewhat apprehensive of the scalding he knows you're about to give him.
"Yeah, they are. But this is an audition to become a trainee, gyu! You get what that means, right? They manage BTS for god sake, you'd be crazy famous too!" You bark at him hoping to drum some sense into him.
"An audition doesn't mean I'd get it anyways" he turns to lean against your chair, eyes locked on his heels gently kicking at the floor.
"They'd be fools not take you on, you play guitar better than anyone I've ever seen, your voice is beautiful. You were born to be on a stage somewhere" you'd seen it on him, looking through the window to the music room when he practices with his band. He glows, music is the beat that keeps his heart pumping.
"I don't know anything about dancing, I'd be a mess. And I'd have to go to Seoul, away from... everything" now he looks at you, the whisper of a confession on the tip of his tongue.
He promised himself in that very moment if you begged him to stay, pleaded to keep him by your side he'd let that confession slip from his lips. He'd tell you how he feels his blood pulsing through each and every vein when you laugh, virtually cardiac levels when he's the one to draw it out of you, how he's never had a first kiss yet but he dreams that it's with you. He'd tell you that it's because of you he doesn't want to leave.
But you never saw that when he looked at you. You saw the young boy who taught you guitar in your room, the one whose talent you were constantly chasing. You'd put away your own selfish desires to keep your friend by your side to see him where he was born to be "that's why they train you, you learn so quickly it'd barely be an issue for you. And we'd come to visit you of course. You wouldn't be alone. You'd have to show me around Seoul!"
The smile on your face cements that's he will keep his mouth shut, lock away those thoughts of holding your hand in his into the deepest centre of his mind. Somewhere he doesn't need them.
── .✦
When the casting manger contacts him again, he makes a decision that changes the course of his entire life, with his families support and yours, he auditions in Seoul with the guitar he taught you with and is immediately moved onto a trainee position.
You couldn't be prouder, pride that you had seen something in him that now others were seeing too. He deserved everything they could give him and more.
What you hadn't expected was how lonely it was. Now you'd walk to school by yourself and although you'd eat lunch with your other friends you couldn't deny there was a hole that Beomgyu use to fill out with jokes and a booming laugh. When you got home at the end of the day it would rarely be when he was free to message, not that it was explicitly allowed anyway.
You learnt to speak in code and deleted messages that couldn't be traced when his phone was taken for reviews to ensure he was focusing on training. You'd log each and every one of his messages into your mind bank before they'd be wiped forever, putting on a brave face to pretend it didn't bother you that you couldn't confide in your best friend the way you use to.
For two long years you lived in almost radio silence for him, until he told you that he was to debut finally. A part of you was petrified at that prospect, you wanted the world to love him the way you did but you still longed for the bond you lost all that time ago. When you saw him on the debut stage through your phone screen along with his members, his hair dyed from the last time you saw him and a face that time had matured slightly, you decided right there that you didn't want to sit on the sidelines anymore, you wanted to watch him prosper by his side, like you once had. So you made a decision too.
Now that he had debuted, the restrictions he had during his trainee period loosened ever so slightly, enough to visit you on the first day in your new apartment in Seoul. Your brother had already helped you move your boxes inside but Beomgyu was the one to help you unpack them, placing trinkets he recognised and some he did not onto shelves.
"I still can't believe we're both here now. Though I don't suppose you'll have much time to show me around like I asked when i pushed you to take the audition" you playfully goad him, of course you hadn't meant to actually make him feel guilty that he was busy following his dreams now, that was simply the by product of your teasing.
"I'll do my best for you, madam" he bows with feign importance, mischief laced into his actions. The years had shaped and moulded him into an idol but he was still your Beomgyu. The one light in spirit with a sickening talent for discerning your each and every mood. You'd describe him as stagnant if it wasn't such an admirable trait.
"You still play, no way! Same guitar too!" He comments jovially when you pull the guitar case from a box and you should feel nostalgic for the time he first taught you how to tune it but only the bittersweet taste of regrets rise like bile in your throat. He notices that too.
"I know I'm busy a lot of the time now, but I promise I'll make time for you" he looks to you with the same chocolate eyes as the boy you met all those years ago, but you can only manage a weak smile. You don't want to launch your expectations into the sky to have them crashing down before your feet again. You'll take moments like this instead, where he's in-front of you once more, sat on your couch while you unpack the last remaining boxes.
"Plus I have to introduce you to my members. You guys are the most important people in my life so it's only right you meet. Don't worry, you'll love them- they're a lot of fun" his words circle the drain too close to longing, begging to be a part of his world again when he'd opened it up to thousands. You agree but you'll believe it when you're there, when he lets you in once more.
── .✦
He keeps his word and you find yourself involved in his life again, of course adulthood means that your time together is not as abundant as it was when you were children but you're okay with that, you understand that's how it works. You busy yourself in your new job and make your own friends along the way, you never feel the blues from a new city despite being so far away from Daegu, from your family. You have a piece of home right here in the city with you.
You do eventually meet his members over a meal he'd invited you to and you understand why he feels such a close bond with them. They are every bit as kind as he is, making you feel welcome and not like the outsider you once felt. Now you feel present, grounded in the roots Beomgyu has planted.
They laugh and joke with you like old friends do and when the night ends they don't let you pay a penny towards it. Beomgyu would not allow it, jesting that it was a 'perk of being friends with an idol', as if that's why you were. You were friends with him long before the fame and you'd be here if he lost it all tomorrow. You just scoff and push your purse back into your bag, earning a giggle from Beomgyu.
Despite his hectic schedule, he does find time for you, even if it's only for a coffee during his breaks or a quick call before you climb into bed. You meet on occasions and some of those times his members are present due to his conflicting schedules but you don't mind. In fact you welcome it, you gain them as friends of your own and you feel yourself anchoring into his life like you use to wish for.
A couple more years pass and you fall into steady rhythm with him this way, you are accustomed to having him close to you again and you finally feel some sort of completion in your life, like the world had finally spat out what it chewed up so many years ago when you lost him.
Like most things though, it doesn't seem to last forever.
His hair grows and changes colour a few more times and his jaw sharpens, morphing into his adult features with grace. He grows from that small boy with a guitar too big for him into a handsome man with talent flowing from his fingertips, and his fame grows too.
You try to support him as best you can, you attend his shows when you're able to, when he's not touring in foreign countries you suppose you'll never visit and when he's not occupied with schedules, you drop him messages offering to catchup whenever he's free. Gradually his replies shorten in words and lengthen in time taken until you get no replies at all and you feel that distance creeping back in, no matter how much you try to cling to him.
His albums sit on your shelf and his voice on the radio torments you to no end, you see his face on advertisements and realise you have as much power as his thousands of adoring fans.
It's in his absence your buried feelings surface.
You're not sure when you began to fall in love with Beomgyu. It never happened like the movies said it would. You never stood in the rain with the idea of all encompassing love filling you to your bones, embracing your very being. It never suddenly hit you all at once, realising he was the one who stood by your side the entire time, unseen by you until the very moment your love triumphs.
Truthfully, selfishly, you think it might be when the world began to know him, dig their claws in and claim him for their own. You're proud of what he had achieved but it sours and poisons the more you think about what it had taken from you.
You know you love him because he makes you feel such ugly feelings and leaves you to compartmentalise them alone. You think you might just be angry and selfish enough to let all these feelings loose and let him deal with the fallout.
Your tipping point comes an evening you never expected it to, you'd had a long day at work, one you wanted to wash away from your skin and be done with. The hum from the refrigerator drills through your skull, it's been louder recently and it doesn't seem as cold as it once did so it's just another thing to add to your long to-do list. You reach in to grab something for dinner but it's more baron than you remember. When was the last time you went grocery shopping?
Despite the growl in your stomach, you close it again and push the hunger away, you'll eat something later you tell yourself, as if those few hours could fix what you've lost.
Honestly you don't remember the last time you messaged Beomgyu, one that he actually took the time to properly respond to, probably 6 months ago by now. It's easier to shut your mouth and live in silence than to wait for an echo.
You look around and see a room you don't recognise, you use to dream about being here, in Seoul. The big city with endless choices but you only feel powerless. You longed to be here by his side, and for a time you were but now you could be a million miles away for all it mattered. The distance in your heart was longer than the 15 minute drive to his apartment.
In a way you feel lost adrift, floating aimlessly in an endless ocean towards nothing. There's nothing you hope for anymore, no clear path you can see and you live out your days like a zombie repeating the same monotonous tasks you did in life. An imposter.
Your phone chimes from the table and you sigh, your body wants you to ignore whoever wants you for something but your brain craves distraction from the damn hum of the refrigerator you need to fix, so you pick your phone up and feel your heart palpitate.
yeonjun>⩊<: i think he needs you. can you come over?
Your thumbs tremble over the letters, frightened to type out characters only to see yourself delete them. You have no idea how to respond, no idea if you still have the authority to determine if he should need you.
But you know Beomgyu. You know his tendencies to bury within himself and lock out anyone or anything sent with the white flag of surrender to aid. He was always the same, even as a child, you'd have to battle to be let in and not to any fault of his own, he never learned how to be vulnerable.
But did you deserve to pretend to know how to break through to him anymore? Did he deserve for you to be the one to do it after casting you aside like you meant nothing? You are severely oblivious and that terrifies you the most.
you: he's at your dorm?
You hold your breath for a reply.
...
yeonjun>⩊<: yeah. he's not... well. we're gonna leave for a bit to give you guys some space. Sorry
His apology is so loaded you feel guilt that he feels the need to apologise on his behalf. That one little word breaks you more than you were prepared for. He's sorry that you have to be the one to contact when he's most likely aware of the dead air Beomgyu has created between you, it solidifies the vast crater in your bond that you have been avoiding acknowledging. It's far too painful and it sears you now.
you: okay. I'll be there soon
You reply before better judgement can grip your shoulders and shake. You don't doubt Yeonjun's worry, he's observant in ways and wisdom beyond his years, but you doubt Beomgyu's need for you. You want to believe with all your heart that you are the sole thing he needs to break him out of his melancholic spell, but this is not a movie, and you are not those people.
Despite that, you find yourself stood outside his dorm door, fist raised to knock as you try to gain the courage. You have no idea if he will even answer for you and you assume it's that singular doubt that forces your hand. Like it's just a game you're playing. No actual consequences.
You feel sick once more after a few beats of silence and then the heavy shuffling behind the door, it opens slowly before you and reveals the man you haven't seen for months.
There's no polite way to say it, but the months haven't been kind to him, his hair is ratty and matted like a brush hasn't touched it for that long too, the red rim on his waterline tells you he hasn't slept much either. You don't doubt it's nothing his makeup team couldn't cover and conceal for the cameras, but here, stood in front of you he can't hide.
His eyes widen for a split second, you catch it and know he hadn't expected you of all people when he peeled the door open. His chapped lips stutter with words that won't come to him.
"You look like shit" the words tumble from you before you can stop yourself and before he can start. He glances you up and down, you feel scrutiny under his gaze and swallow it down when you remember that despite everything, he's not the one to look at you that way, with distain. He never was and you know he never will.
He steps aside for you, inviting you inside as he shuts the door behind him. It looks the same as you left it inside, with the mess of five boys you imagine not much of it moved in the first place and that gives you some strange comfort. When you turn around to look at him, his back is to you, still facing the door, cowering from your stare "what are you doing here?"
It's not judgement in his voice but indifference and that hurts more.
"...Yeonjun told me you're not doing well" you feel meek even having to explain why you turn up now after all this time, as if you are the one who put that distance between you.
"I'm fine" his reply is snappy, rehearsed.
"Don't do that, Beomgyu, don't lie to me" you sigh, holding your gaze on him when he finally turns on his heels to look at you.
"What do you want me to say?" His lips continue to move like he wants to unload everything, finally spill his heart out to someone, to you, but he reins it in with a sharp tug.
"Tell me that it's true, that you need help or just need someone to talk to about things that trouble you! Tell me that you've been doing better than everyone thinks you are! Tell me anything, anything at all instead of shutting me out!" You're the first the raise your voice, it's not how you wanted to conduct yourself in this conversation but he draws out the baser emotions in you. Right now you're settled on anger.
"I've been busy!" He bites back, running fingers through his hair exasperated as he marches right past you to the kitchen counter as if it makes it seem as though he's being truthful.
"Bullshit. You were just as busy before and you made time for me then. What changed, huh? Not man enough to tell me yourself that you don't need me anymore? So you ghost me and your problem just floats away?" You hadn't expected to let those feelings you locked away out so soon but here you are, heart on your sleeve hoping he doesn't rip it right from you. Still hoping for more.
"You know that's not true" solemn takes over his features reluctantly, flattening his brows as his eyes round like the weight of his actions finally comes crashing down over the crown of his head.
"Do I? Because you've made it pretty damn clear you don't give a shit. I would do anything for you and this is how you repay me? I waited for you no matter how full your schedule got, that's fine I get it, I know how busy your work is but I waited for you still. I cooked for you on days your legs gave out after practice, was there for you through highs and lows and I never asked for anything back. Just for you to show me a bit of goddamn effort. To show me that you cared" your palms slam on the kitchen counter, startling him like your voice is a whip.
"I even moved to Seoul for you! So you wouldn't feel so lonely in the job I encouraged you to do!-"
"-I never asked that of you! I would've been perfectly fine here by myself!" He cuts you off with a booming voice, all past sorrow in his irises replaced by fiery exhaustion, it burns when you're close so you step back from the counter one step and the cold embrace of distance stings just as much.
"you want to know why I stopped calling? Because I felt so fucking guilty every time you did those things for me it ached that I couldn't give you shit in return. Because I can't keep pretending that I'm okay with that!" he closes that distance in an instant, now there's only a slither of air between you, between your faces. You feel the heat from his breath and know his temper hasn't cooled. You can only stand dumbfounded and listen.
"I couldn't tell the woman I've loved since we were 15 years old that friendship isn't what I wanted anymore only to have no time for you, it's fucking selfish and I won't do it!" His voice cracks from the torment, tears well in his eyes but he won't let them spill upon seeing your own tears mirror his. Fatigued from breaking inside, being torn apart by the heft of his confession untold and the guilt of his neglect, he can no longer hold onto it and it escapes him before he can filter it through choosier words.
This isn't how he envisioned telling you, if he ever was to. He'd held it within so long that it branded itself to his soul, something that belonged to you but you'd never see. He imagined that if he ever gained the courage it would be to the backdrop of the city illumined, twilight blanketing the sky and candle light flickering in your eyes. He can see the dress you are wearing, black and thigh length and hugging you in all the right places, you playfully scold him for looking everywhere but your eyes and he gives you a toothy grin, waiting to devour you right after the decadent dinner gleaming up at him.
It's the least you deserve, you're worthy of worship greater than that, but he can't give that to you.
"...why would you never tell me that? Why would you let me sit in the dark thinking you'd never love me back?" The tears track down your cheeks, he longs to wipe them away and never be the reason for them again but he stands there. Still.
"What would be the point? If I can't devote myself to you the way I want there's no use in trying. We'd be so brutal together" his heart shatters in two admitting this aloud to you, all he wants is to embrace you and his words form daggers to stab you instead. He can see you're breaking too, everything you thought you knew about the world pulverising all at once and it made worse when he gulps it all down.
His face falls flat before you, forcing each itch to iron out until there’s little emotion left on his features. This is what’s best. Best for you to finally let go.
"You're a coward, Beomgyu! A fucking coward!”You wail and hit at his chest with closed fists, begging, demanding him for anything but he stands there still, taking everything you throw at him with closed eyes. He can’t bear to see scorn clouding your eyes that use to look at him with such devotion.
You push his chest a few more times with weak hands, longing to flatten your palm against his chest to feel the heart beating beneath you now know pumps for you. But when you look up to him, you find nothing there. A blank fucking statue so you pull your hands back, taking a few steps backwards for the slightest chance he’ll grab you and hold you, never letting go again.
He doesn’t.
You can’t stand to be in this room anymore, standing around his things and his smell and him. He’s no more than an imposter of the man you knew. An imposter you still love, despite everything. It would be so much easier to hate him.You rush for the door, unlocking it with a clink and it slams behind you.
It’s only when the door closes, after a few beats of silence that means he is truly alone, that he lets himself break down, sobbing into his palms and drops to his knees. His cries wrack his body, the stifling air you left chokes up his lungs like the ramifications of everything he’s said.
You’d never want to see him again.
── .✦
Time moves like staring at it filtering through an hourglass for you. It should pass the neck of the glass swiftly but the longer you stare the longer you realise how it seems to appear like a line that never ends. As though the sand never makes it to the bottom.
Your apartment is a stranger to you despite spending every moment that you aren’t at work within the same four walls. That might be the worst part, a painful reminder that time must still go on, running away from you. You have no idea if you should stay but leaving might just be harder. The prospect of returning to Daegu, to the streets you use to walk and chase the ghost of a man you used to to know makes you feel sick, churning your stomach and letting the bile wash you away.
You find yourself drifting away in spirit, wondering what he is doing. What he’s feeling. If he feels half as bleak as you do. It doesn’t anger you anymore, it only feels raw and numb simultaneously, like crashing waves licking the rocks wounds on the way back down.
Beomgyu feels everything tenfold. He has a tendency for it. Ever since he was a child his heart had been weak and if left unguarded it would have pierced and ruptured by now. His humour and wits serve as his armour and even those he’s failed to adorn in the months since he laid everything out to you only to pull it back without letting you touch.
His members have noticed, there’s a space empty that he use to fill out with his soul and Yeonjun feels the run off guilt. He’d meant for the very opposite of this, he knew of Beomgyu’s love for you, ever observant and hoped him strong enough to commit to his desires, but now he’s only a shell of his former self.
Beomgyu still recalls that fateful conversation with Yeonjun.
He’d practically locked himself in the studio the week before you came to him that night, the only way he could drown out your silence was writing. Song lyrics you’d probably never hear, the world would probably never listen to, far too somber for anything they should release. He barely looks up when the studio door clicks open, lost in thought.
“You still writing?” Yeonjun’s voice calls out softly to him. Beomgyu only nods.
A small sigh escapes Yeonjun as he plants himself on the couch beside the desk, he’s hunched over the music sheet, multiple scribbled out words and rearranged sentences.
“You should take a break, you won’t get anywhere forcing it” Yeonjun fiddles with the hem of his jumper “maybe a break from love songs might clear your head too”
Beomgyu lifts his head, his friend is too specific to not understand the inner turmoil within him. He tries to respond but all words fail him. Yeonjun speaks up in the absence “If you love her like I think you do, you owe her an explanation”
That pricks at him, even the mere mention of you is enough to flip his entire worldview upside down, more so the mention of how he failed you. How his failure is so obvious everyone can bear witness to it “she deserves better than what I can give her” his lips betray him, he meant to quip that Yeonjun has no idea what he’s talking about. Instead he lays out his insecurities.
“And yet you’re the one she loves” he should rejoice in the fact that if other people can see your affection, it must give it some merit, some truth in there. Instead shame surfaces, reinforces that his treatment of you is not just but its the right choice anyway in order to push you far enough away from him, far from his failures “Don’t you think she should at least have a say in what she thinks she deserves?”
Those words echo through him even now, back then he excused himself from the studio, Yeonjun’s insight only made him want to run and now they repeat on him like a tape on loop.
He thinks about what it would mean to give in to his deepest desires, to let you hold him in the way he yearns for in his dreams. Nothing restricts you there, nothing bounds you in chains with the length destined to be one link too short to reach out for each other. There he’s free to imagine the life he pines for, how you’d smile when he wakes you in the morning, giggling in his ear. How soft your skin would feel beneath him. He even dares to dream about growing older with you, watching new wrinkles form and you look just as beautiful as you do right now.
In another life, he’d like that with you.
Here, in waking life, his dreams only serve as torment. He needs solace, some sort of comfort in his unrest so he pulls out the old guitar case from his closet, buried under piles of clothing and whatever else he’s stuffed in there to forget.
It’s lighter than he remembers, or perhaps it’s because the last time he played it he was smaller, younger. He used it for the audition but when he arrived in Seoul he used most of his first months pocket money to buy a new one, one that looked more fitting for a new life. This one sat, untouched and unplayed.
Peeking the cover back it looks exactly how he remembers, a few knocks and scratches that tell it’s worn in but it’s his all the same. It’s as old as first meeting you.
He gently pulls it out with the intent to rest it upon his knee and play once more, though when he notices something peeling from the strap that he doesn’t remember being there, he has to know. It’s tucked in the corner near the stitching, a small piece of crinkled paper glued to the leather, clearly meticulously to avoid marring it, but the adhesive is old now and shedding from the surface.
He runs his finger over to flatten it in order to read the words and his heart swells so much he’s surprised it doesn’t balloon past his chest.
‘even when the world is singing your songs, I’ll be the last one stood in the crowd. wait for me’
It’s your handwriting. Even if it was printed he’d know it was you, they’re your words. Before he can feel anything, there’s a prick in his eyes, a singular tear slipping past his cheek without allowing so. And then, a singular second later, he feels it all.
His heart that once threatened to protrude now a concave to the cavernous bottom in his chest, bleeding that he knows all too well how you held true to your words, you’d stand by them through the most fearsome storm.
He thinks back to what you had called him, ‘coward’. You are right, he’s never been brave enough for you, back then and now. Years ago he’d swore he’d confess if you told him the thing he needed to hear, and now, he told himself that what you want doesn’t matter because of his cowardice. He’s never given you the grace of speaking for yourself, and now you have.
Now he knows what you want and he’s still been a coward, running and hiding from you. It’s not enough for him, his actions disgust him instantaneously and that’s how he knows he won’t let himself be that same coward anymore.
He launches from his bed, gathering a jacket and swinging it over his hoodie, ignoring all and everything else, all of it until he reaches your door. His hand falters for a brief moment, knocking before falls back into those habits that led him here in first place.
When you open the door, every feeling he’s ever felt for you floods his system, wonder, admiration, frustration, remorse, love.
“Beom-“
“-listen to me, please” it’s not just his words that plead you, it’s his eyes. He sounds as though he needs this more than your anger and upset need a voice. Despite everything, he’s still your Beomgyu, so you allow him to speak.
“I-I’m not good at this, you know I’m not. I’ve never been that great at asking for help but I’ve always been good at taking what you give me anyway. I don’t want to be that man anymore” he begins, swallowing down his pride and everything with it “I want to be a better man for you. I want to give you everything I was scared to before. I’ve been so stupid, I allowed you to think that I didn’t care and that I was too busy for you when that couldn’t be further from the truth. I was too scared to commit. Well fuck that, I don’t want to live like that anymore and I want to give you the love I was too much of a coward to before”
He lays himself out for you to see, bare before you. He’s never felt so vulnerable but maybe there’s a strength in that he couldn’t have foreseen before. Looking to your face, he watches the way you break and try to build those blocks back up, piece by piece even though they burn when you touch them “How can I trust you? You say you want that but how can I trust that you won’t let me fade into nothing again? It was the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced, Beomgyu”
Your voice cracks, but you manage to hold your tears this time. You try to keep yourself together but Beomgyu has always had that talent of seeing past everything.
“You can’t trust me. Not yet. But I promise you, I’ll never hurt you like that again, I’ll prove it to you. I’m asking you to let me try” it’s the most honest he’s been with you, with himself, for years. Although the gravity this situation is crushing, you could either shatter everything he is or help him soar with a single word, but in this very moment he feels light enough for the honesty.
“…okay” you murmur just loud enough. His head snaps to you in an instant, checking if the word you spoke wasn’t just a figment of his imagination “okay. Don’t fuck it up, Beomgyu, I’ll never forgive you if you do”
You repeat with a sturdiness you hadn’t anticipated you’d have, you need him to know the direness of his words and what they mean if he breaks them. You will not survive him if he does so again.
He gulps down harder, fingers twitching at his sides, not from your warning but that there’s finally no barriers between him and what he longs to do to you. The distance isn’t there and neither is the friendship, you’ve both thought of each other differently long enough to pretend otherwise.
He takes a step closer, glancing to your lips before he asks “can I kiss you?”
You look to him, the boy who once sat on the edge of your bed after school days now a man asking for your permission. You’ve waited long enough to deny him and yourself, you nod with certainty.
He bridges the gap between you both and connects your lips with delicacy, testing the way they feel against his own. It’s only once he feels you moving along with him that he decides to deepen it, eliminating the rest of the space and knitting a hand through your hair to hold the back of your neck, the other guiding the small of your back to melt into him.
You taste like everything he dreamed of, there’s no gloss on your lips but he tastes the sweetness all the same, imbuing it to himself. You move so softly against him, he swipes his tongue along your bottom lip, begging for entry. You allow him in, opening your mouth and when he slips his tongue against yours for the first time you can’t help but mewl.
The sounds he drawls out of you
makes his blood rush, spurring him to dive deeper, moving with more passion against you until your teeth clack but neither of you care much, too focused on the vibrations between your bodies. Your palms rest on his chest to steady yourself but also to clasp your fingers in his shirt, tugging him closer flat against you.
You feel dizzy, not just from finally feeling Beomgyu but from the lack of oxygen in your brain so you part in order to catch your breath.
“I love you” Resting his forehead to yours, he pants inches away from your face “I love you so fucking much”
His confession is all you’ve ever wanted to hear, but in this moment all you want is him.
“Then don’t stop” he takes no more time once you whisper to him, connecting your lips once more and stumbling backwards with you into the confides of your apartment, where he can display the extent of his love.
── .✦
Your fingers flit over a few options of shining jewels, glimmering in the light of the setting sun filtering through your window. You observe the cuts of each gemstone, determining which would look best with your current outfit, you decide on the small diamond pendant that sits perfectly against your collarbone, a memory of it being gifted to you on your birthday passed two years ago.
You move to observe your reflection in the mirror, twisting the stone between your fingers and smiling to yourself when you deem it looks right.
He must be a psychic, or at least some higher being has gifted him with future sight because as soon as he steps out from the bathroom you’re stood by the floor length mirror, flattening out the creases in the thigh length black dress he use to envision you in. You match his dress shirt and pants in colour but he thinks you could outshine him in a plastic bag. His feet drive him to approach.
You notice his appearance in the mirror behind you, turning so you can intake him fully. His shirt is ironed out, not a crease in sight, his chest slightly exposed through the undone top buttons, utterly decadent “you look dashing”
He smiles and leans down with the puff of a soft laugh “shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”
“You should” you chuckle back, wrapping your arms around his neck. You both stand there in contempt quiet for a moment, fully absorbing each other’s appearance.
“How pissed with me would you be if I said I wanted to rip this damn dress off and have my way with you until we were almost certainly late for the reservation?” He whispers against the shell of your ear, moving his lips down to playfully nip at your neck.
You scoff playfully, leaning back so he’s forced to look at you instead “hmm, pretty pissed since you’ve been promising me to take me there for weeks now”
“I know. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, you know what it’s like approaching a comeback” it’s not your intention, but he feels the same guilt he carries with him, although now it doesn’t feel quite so suffocating under your understanding.
“I know, gyu. I’m only messing” your lips curving lets him know you harbour no ill feelings on the subject, you know that this is what being with Beomgyu entails, and you do more than endure it for him, you embrace his success. It’s not easy. It never is, but love begs to prevail.
He feels his love for you wrap and fold in on itself, he couldn’t ask for your support anymore, it already stretches past him miles ahead.
You pull him in by the collar of his shirt suddenly, dragging your lips along his ear to mimic his previous actions “besides, I was already planning on you ripping this dress off after dinner. Don’t want to spoil desert now, do you?” You pull his hand to the hem of your dress, dragging his fingers along the underside until he feels no laced fabric underneath, no barrier between him and what he craves.
The last thing you hear is his breath hitching, fingers driving into the meat of your thighs while he guides you backwards and you hit the edge of the bed “fuck dessert, I want you now…”
His lips collide against yours with force, a promise to never let them leave your skin until he was done.
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @nota10butadefinite8 @buttersoob
𝐿𝐸𝑇 𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑀 𝐾𝑁𝑂𝑊.ೃ࿔*:・
C.YJ
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɪᴅᴏʟ!ʏᴇᴏɴᴊᴜɴ x ɪᴅᴏʟ!ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꨄ︎ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: Yeonjun is done with having to hide your relationship, he’ll convince you that you should announce it with more than his words
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: established relationship, NSFW, minors do not interact, slight angst, smut, softdom!jun, he’s a yearner(let’s act shocked), praise, dirty talk, fingering, no protection, clothed sex, slight overstim, creampie, pet names, prob incorrect depiction of the industry
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.3k
𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ⚠︎
𝙆𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨…⋆˚࿔ no labels p2 being recorded already got me thinking a lot about jjun recently so this was created heh idk how he’s gonna top p1 but just know he’s coming for his own crown ^>⩊<^
Also this is my attempt at trying to get better at writing smut idk I think it’s little difficult sometimes so I’m trying to improve ٠࣪⭑
When Yeonjun commits to something, he commits firmly. Holds it like it's his utmost duty-whether it be plans made with other people or work he's set himself out to achieve, the dedication is steadfast. Unwavering. Little room for quarrel or disagreement, his mind knows only one way; never deviate from the path laid out. You, however, were never gifted with same perseverance, sure you devote yourself wholly to your work, that ethic could not be misconstrued about you, yet you were certainly more fluid when it comes to how fixed you commit. If something you previously agreed to no longer felt right in the moment, you had no problem backpedaling, an excuse already forming in the centre of mind.
It was one of the first things that initially attracted you to Yeonjun, admired that fortitude within him, a tenacity to keep himself engaged with whatever he set his mind to, a trait you lacked abundantly.
That's how you knew something didn't quite sit right with the abrupt nature of his return. He'd only left minutes before, grabbing his keys from the bowl with a sharp clank and a twitch in his shoulders from irritability, shuffling to the door like the weight of the universe was slowly suffocating him. Now those keys were thrown back onto the counter callously, ringing through your eardrums at the impact on the marble. Elbows fly on the surface top, tracking his fingers through his hair from the frustration, pulling down to his face like a slap of cold water.
"Fuck this!" He huffs, exasperation wrapping around his throat, cinching tighter with each breath passed.
"Yeonjun?" You peel around the corner and witness the outburst with your own eyes, watch the way his upper arms ripple and tense under the storm brewing inside him. His feline eyes narrow under heavy brows, tapered with a venom diluted under pure exhaustion, it's clear the potency of his malice has been stripped down to pure fatigue, whatever is circulating inside him spent up his last thread.
"I'm sick of this shit. I know what they want to talk to me about. I'm not biting" you know what he's referring to, his company had called him in for a meeting, 'nothing major' in their own terms, just something that they wanted to bring to his attention. You know the industry yourself, it's code for: 'you fucked up but it's fixable'. It's a slap on the wrist. Despite this, Yeonjun never mentioned what the meeting was to be about, you figured he'd do that in his own time, he danced around the subject when you brought it up last night and you didn't push. The apprehension he held when the conversation came up told it was something he was still wracking his own head around, letting it mull and fester and when the time came, he would let that burden free and let you in under a rational mind, as he always did eventually.
Instead, it detonated inside him and this was the blowout.
"You remember that photo I posted of us, the one of us at the event? The one they approved? Yeah? well now my hand is a little too far down your waist" you know the one, of course you do, you felt how searing his touch was in the moment, a blush rising high on your cheeks from the contact, the low cut of your skirt left the skin of your hip open to his invitation.
The public knew you were friends, late night studio sessions and on stage collaborations was the extent of that knowledge, even that you were both respective ambassadors of the brand whose event the photo was taken at. Yet what they didn't know was just how well acquainted the two of you were, that he knew every inch of you, had touched it too, branded you with his lips, tongue, hands, everything he could reach and grab. That most nights he spent buried so deep inside you that your vision blurred and voice cried out his name, etching himself into your bones.
They hadn't known that the apartment you stand in now is shared, a safe haven for you both away from the frenzied scurry of your dorms. That you've spent years watching the boy beside you grow into a man poised and self assured, those boyish features matured into sharp lines and calmer dispositions. All they saw were friendly exchanges and polite glances, it's all you were permitted to show.
"You think it's because of the comments?" You question, it's the only possible explanation to the company backtracking, the post was flooded with heart emojis and approving comments, far more positive than could be anticipated from beloved idols posing together so closely. You could thank both of your mature fans for that, your group and his had curated a supporting community evidently.
"I think it's because they want me on a tighter leash than I'm willing to give. I don't give a shit anymore. I'm sick of it. I can't live like this anymore" his admission is far more loaded than appears, you've had endless conversations together about going public with your relationship, late nights under sheets and over breakfast tables and the conclusion is always the same outcome; you both could not be so selfish to each other. You were not fools, you've seen what mere allegations do to careers and he is not willing to wreck that for you and you for him, let alone your group members. It doesn't stop the heart for wanting what it wants "I just want to hold you and not worry about whose watching and what cameras are flashing"
You pace towards him, hands come up to stroke and lightly massage his shoulders, the tension there partially dissipates under your touch. The unity in your gesture pulls his attention and he breaks away from the counter, turning on his heels to embrace you. His palm holds the crown of your head, cradling you to his chest while his chin rests upon your hair, rocking you slowly to the beat of no music but to the heartbeats facing one another.
There is calm in calamity. You seek out the warmth his body gives to you and bury yourself further in his arms. A safe spot in the world that only seems to throw you trial and tribulation.
Yeonjun, in turn, finds the same solace in you, his head tilted down to pepper kisses along your hairline like a saint worshipped.
"You have no idea what you do to me. Fuck, I think I'd burn it all down just to keep you warm" his words whispered drip devotion, cascades through your hair like his fingers fall to the small of your back, tugging you impossibly closer. And like that day the picture was taken, his hold on you scorches straight through any clothing that barricades his touch to skin, yet now; in your shared apartment, there are no watchful eyes. Not a single onlooker to observe when his fingertips pinch the fabric of your floor length skirt, ever so slowly gathering more of the material until he has a fistful bunched up and his fingers are free to traverse the skin of your upper thigh. He grips at the plush flesh as though it was his last time, desperately greedy to feel.
While his hands occupy themselves, the lips to grace you with revered affection turn hungry when they journey from the sweetness of pecks against your forehead to ardent, open-mouth kisses along your jaw, following the lines of your neck. There's enough room for his passionate assault when you tilt your head back, allowing him as much space as you can offer to his insatiable lips "They can go fuck themselves if they think I'm spending another day hiding you" his words breathe hot against your skin.
You keen towards him almost involuntarily, your body pliantly receptive to his words and his hold on you. He happily receives you inching closer, end up wrapping your leg around his hip to stabilise yourself from falling completely but he's there to catch you, the hand roaming your thigh now supports you with less restriction, fingers dug into the supple skin just under your ass. Tempting enough without being where you need him to be.
This close he can feel the throb of your heart in your chest, even as it travels through your body, lower, down to where you lean against him and where your core flutters in invitation for him.
"Yeah? You'd like that? Everyone knowing that you're mine?" he growls into your ear, teeth grazing your lobe and leaving goosebumps in response.
"You know i want that, Jun" you're pleading for more than that and he knows.
Within a split second he releases you from his hold, spinning you around until your palms hit the counter top and your hips hit the same edge, caging you in with his towering frame above you. When you squeal faintly from the suddenness, he hushes you with a sloppy kiss, holding your jaw in place as you crane sideways to meet him.
He ruts himself against you, feeling the weight of his yearning manifested when he grows hot and heavy between your thighs, pinning you between the counter and his lust.
"Good. Because I want everyone to know I'm yours" his pining persistent, purring pressed to your lips while he continues his fingers exploration around your thighs. Your skirts still gathered up at your hips, allowing him to slip easily past the lace of your panties.
"Want them to know how much I crave this pretty pussy" the filth of his words forces a wild flush on your cheeks but no more than the fingers dipping to the most intimate part of yourself. You don't feel bashful though, he knows you here all the same.
"Fuck, I think you want that too" murmuring into the crook of your neck when he feels the wetness his fingertips collect through your folds "is that what you want, baby?"
He knows your reply without it needing to be spoken aloud, your body is already answering him, but it's ever so fun feeling you squirm beneath him, the way you grind your hips against his in desperate chase, feening for every little sensation "want you, Jun"
If Yeonjun is anything it's an impatient lover, hearing the longing in your voice only makes him eager to give you everything he can so he does just so, two fingers slipping inside you with ease. He's swallowing each whimper and whine that falls from your lips with his own, his hand to spare enclosed around your throat not to constrict but to keep you held exactly where he wants you. There's no complaint from you, it would die in your throat before it ever got chance to vocalise in favour of moaning in response to his fingers picking up speed.
"Please..." you aren't quite sure what you are begging for but you do so anyway and it's then you feel the digits retract from your core that you fuss your complaint meekly, you huff so he knows your high was approaching and you're less than happy. As if he couldn't tell, he knows each and every little tell your body has, knows you inside and out.
"No need to whine, baby, you know I'll always give you what you want" the sound of his belt buckle un-clasping drowns his words out until the only thing you recognise is the sugary honey tone to them, humming it with seduction dripping "when you cum I want it to be with me inside you"
That impatient streak in him makes it's appearance again, you barely even register that your panties fall to your ankles before you feel him pushing inside you, that delicious sting from him stretching you inch by inch "oh fuuuck..." he bites his lip in futile attempt to conceal his whimpers, the sensation of your walls engulfing him all consuming, even after years together.
Your hands fight for stability as he reaches the hilt inside you, flailing until they find purchase behind you gripped to his shirt and clutching the counter, the sheer force of his entry pushing you forward.
"Holy fuck, baby, so tight!" He mewls, lips brushing against your neck, suckling there to pacify as you both adjust.
You rock your hips back once you're ready, as much as you can with the little room between you both and it tilts him to that soft spot inside you, the one that has you choked up with a sob already, arched and leaning over the countertop. It sets him off immediately, spurred on by the sight of you writhing to sputter his hips in hurried pace. He's pursuing the gratification he only receives from being buried within you with frenzied passion, throwing his head back lost in the euphoria of it.
You bring him back, fawning for him with reaching hands and he obliges blissfully, lacing your fingers together and leaning forward so his chest is to your back.
"Want everyone to know how much i love you" he aches, lips nipping your shoulder blade as you melt to his words "fuckin' adore you"
His hips slow to accentuate his point, grinding in tender but needy cadence while the hand that isn't holding yours wraps around your waist, sliding his full arm to hold you and bind you together. It serves as cushion for when he begins to drill himself inside once more, enduring the blows of the sharp counter edge at the rapidity of his movement. He'd shield you from it even if the pain was excruciating, luckily it only marks his arm slightly irritated. Not that he could care at this moment, not with how you look underneath him.
"Maybe they'll imagine me fucking you like this" he hushes close to your ear, his vulgarity in words cause you to flutter around him, squeezing until he hisses and leans up, fully devoted to pounding into you.
"Oh you'd like that, huh?" He chuckles darkly, feeling you claw at his fingers "don't worry, angel, I'm not taking no for an answer. They're gonna agree to it if they wanna keep me" there's nothing in you to argue logic or probability with him right now, he could tell you the sky's red and the grass blue and you'd agree with absolute. Right now, the only thing you can focus on is him consuming you.
“Was thinking about this when they took the picture anyway” he admits like you couldn’t tell, like the sly smirk that graced his lips after the shutter clicked meant nothing.
Tuned into your frequency, he can feel when you try to run from his hips ever so slightly, that twitch you get just before reaching the state of dreaming so he plummets with all his might, you feel every ridge of him with each drag while his hand flies to your lower back to hold you in place for him.
"Gonna cum, baby? Me too, so close, wanna cum inside" you nod feverishly, head dazed to everything but him.
He's panting, sweat forming on his brow line but it's all ignored in favor of chasing his peak, pace slightly jerky now from eagerness. A few more pumps and he's spilling his seed so deep it forces your legs to shake, tipping over the edge yourself. His hearty groan grows in decibels at the feel of you gushing around him and mirrors your own howls, both astray in the space between lucidity and ecstasy.
The after tremors wrack through your thighs and you loose stability despite still being laid out on the counter, chest heaving against the marble now steamed with condensation. You’d definitely need to clean later, you make note of it as best you can before releasing everything else from your consciousness.
You both remain exactly as you are for a while, gathering the air back to your lungs to feed enough oxygen back to your brain in order to become functioning once more. Occasionally he leans down, his lips kiss bruised but still planting more along your spine, devotion filling you in abundance. His fingers drift over the curves of your waist, using it as perch to slowly and steadily pull out. Any other time he’d want to remain inside you for as long as physically possible, why would he want to depart from the heaven between your legs voluntarily otherwise? Yet the quivers in your legs persist as he can hear your knees knocking the wood.
You manage to stand for second before he lets loose your skirt and scoops you into his arms, compliant and moulding to his shape with an arm in support around his neck. His belt rattles as he walks you to the couch, the fly of his jeans still open and hardly decent but you remember, there’s no cameras here.
He rests you along the cushions but never relents his hold around you, kneeling on the floor to remain facing you and in your touch. He feels the pads of your fingers stroke his cheek, circling around the beauty mark just under his eye and every other indicator that he is here with you, calm in your presence.
“Yeonjun… I meant what I said before. I really do want people to know. I’m tired of hiding” you concede, you expect now that lust no longer clouds his decision making he might have some sort of reasoning, perhaps some that you should listen to considering how much it’s been drummed into the both of you ever since you came forward to your companies with your relationship. Somehow those countless meetings and damage control messages did little to curve your mind against it right in this moment, staring into your lovers eyes.
He looks to contemplate your admission for a brief moment, a warming, bright smile forming in the absence of the silence.
“I meant every word too” you beam back once you observe the joy fill out the corners of his lips “I knew I was gonna call for a meeting as soon as I walked out of the door this morning. Came back to get your blessing” he brushes away the stray, ruffled hair from your face, matted from your previous escapade and you’ve never looked prettier, disheveled from his touch and the promise for all to know.
“Aren’t you scared?” He looks so sure to you, like the hundreds of previous conversations on the topic were insignificant.
“Fucking terrified” the elated chuckle spewing from him refutes his words, head dipping to your knees where his forehead rests. It’s raw; human for him to admit and even that doesn’t scare him off this time. Now only his determination takes seat, that trait of dedication you admire so boiling to the surface “but that’s not gonna stop me from letting people see us. The real us”
Yeonjun lifts his gaze to you, the man you’ve grown with smiles before you now with the same delight as when he first called you his, perhaps now only with mischief. He stands on his knees, rising to meet the shell of your ear with his lips “I think I’ll fuck you one more time before that happens though. They can know soon but this is only for me”
he whispers like a secret, tugging you down the couch with an infectious giggle in your throat that quickly turns to a moan when he hikes your skirt up once more.
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @nota10butadefinite8 @buttersoob
Hi, I don’t know if you saw Kai and Taehyun’s recent live, but Taehyun looked so tired. It just made me think about how he must feel coming home after a long day, and it made me want to take care of him and make sure he can rest 😿
You think you could write something related to this pls :3
𝑈𝑁𝑅𝐴𝑉𝐸𝐿𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐸𝑋𝐻𝐴𝑈𝑆𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 ˖᯽ ݁˖
K.TH
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɪᴅᴏʟ!ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: exhaustion is a guarantee for the job Taehyun has, naturally his saving grace is coming home to your comforting arms
ꨄ︎ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: established relationship, Taehyun being super exhausted, honestly none really it’s just very soft
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.1k
𝙆𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨…⋆˚࿔ apologies anon that this took so long to put out I’ve had a really hectic week but I’m back now so I hope you enjoy this!!! ദ്ദി◝ ⩊ ◜ ㅤ♡
Also yes I saw the live you are referring to, it’s always a little disheartening to see how exhausted they get working so hard to produce for us, truly hope they look after themselves 𑣲⋆
You know; not from an exaggerated sigh or overly hunched shoulders, but from the subtleties in each one of his movements and speech just how deeply exhaustion has made home in his bones. Taehyun hides it well, proficient in allowing everyone the grace of never burdening them with his worries, but never from you. You’d see them if they were buried under concrete and rubble.
First there’s typos he’s usually careful enough to correct in his message to say he’ll be home soon, spaces where aching fingers accidentally press too long. No matter how drained he feels though, that message will always come through, considerate of your tendency to worry for him. Even in exhaustion there’s room for attentiveness.
Then you notice when he finally walks through the door, bag slung low on his shoulder like it’s begging to be let go and the twitch in his eyes from forcing them open under fluorescent lights. Kai walks in behind Taehyun, silent and sullen in the same way and an acknowledging nod is the last you see of him before retreating to the comfort of his room. Taehyun wishes only for the same thing, yet that comfort is shaped like you.
The bag is discarded as soon as you are in his sights, instead his arm takes the weight of your lower back and pulls you in lazily, a weight he would take anytime, even when his body fails him now. His touch is so frail, so light you barely feel it as it ghosts the skin of your hip when he closes the distance between you, gifting a soft kiss to your temple. When you part, it’s reluctantly, he longs for the soothing you give him but the scent of aromatic warmth fills his senses and piques his curiosity.
“It’s not your favourite but it’s fresh” you humbly apologise, nudging a bowl of heated soup towards him on the small dining table. The vague memory of a promise you made to provide him with his go-to meal resurfaces, but he thinks this might be even more considerate. You had not had the easiest week yourself, ran yourself ragged with your own work and still found the time to give back to him, he’s reminded of just how deeply his adoration for you runs.
“It’s more than enough. Thank you” his words are delicate as he sinks himself into the chair, steam from the soup curling as he inhales. The first taste is heaven, the first full meal he’s consumed all day despite the late hour and his body feels indebted to it. He can taste every single hint of flavouring you seasoned it with, but devotion is the most potent. You watch as he wolfs it down, usually you’d scold him for ingesting so quickly yet you can’t find it within yourself to do so now witnessing how much his body craves the sustenance, devoured within minutes.
Despite how badly his body craves to melt itself with the chair and rest for eternity in the form of oak, he pushes himself up and shuffles the bowl to the sink, but you spot him doing so before his actions can resume “no way I’m letting you do dishes when you’ve only just walked through the door. Go shower and get yourself comfortable, I’ll be there soon” you peel the bowl from him gently with little resistance, you feel its presence but no fortitude behind it so it slips past his fingers with ease.
He mirrors the kiss he gave earlier, centre of your forehead like a crown forged of gratitude, where his words fail and turn to dust under the weight of his weariness, his lips tell you what his voice can’t. You observe the lethargy in his limbs as he disappears into the bathroom to wash away everything built up during his long hours awake, you can’t erase the throbbing ache he feels but you can soothe it, pacify it until all he feels is the blankets weight above him instead of holding his own.
So that’s what you do.
You’ve changed his sheets so they smell faintly of the washes detergent; usually he’d pick up on that but as he emerges from the bathroom with loose fitting pyjamas you’d placed on the sink for him to change into he notices nothing but the cotton clouding his cheek as his head plummets to the pillows surface. His hair is still damp from the water, only towel dried enough to avoid droplets and you’ll let that go too, it’s a problem for you that’s even just a little less exhausted than you are now.
Eyes flutter shut to the stimulus of everything else surrounding him but the lack of warmth next to him, a space for a body slotted in his bed.
“Need you…” he mumbles, voice obstructed by the pillow but you hear his desire perfectly, catch his fingertips that reached out languidly for you, clutching them into chest as you rest yourself in the bed by his side.
He tugs you in with the most strength you’ve seen in him all night, close enough to have your scent flood through him with the same intensity of the herbs in your homemade soup, unwilling accept an inch of space between you.
There’s nothing but silence and the subdued breathing of the man beside you; the one who works with dedication carved into every action and a fire for perfection. While his work demands that of him, you’ll never do the same. For you, he is the soul you share your love with, your hopes and desires and everything in between with no expectations but that he does the same. Here, in the silence, he does exactly that.
His hand rests in the cave your body creates beside your heart and the other around your shoulders to ensure you don’t subconsciously shuffle away during the night, nose nudged closely to yours, forgoing his own pillow now in favour of inching closer to you. He anchors himself right there, close enough to feel the subdued thump your heart beats under his nails and fulls under exactly so, lulled by your presence.
“Sleep well, tyun” he wont hear you now he’s fast asleep, but you’ll murmur it just loud enough for his dreams to hear, imbuing them with interlude serene enough to disconnect him from the chaos he’ll no doubt face again upon waking. For now at least, there’s contentment just existing where nothing else matters but how closely you are planted against him.
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @nota10butadefinite8 @buttersoob
Oh my god your writing is phenomenal
This means so much to me omg thank you I’ll bawl!!! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
I use to be quite self critical about writing but lately the more I’ve been doing it the better I feel about it, I think it’s just so easy for me to slip into repetition too much but it’s something I hope to improve, so thank you it genuinely means a lot!💗
°˖➴ 𝐿𝐴𝑀𝐵 𝑇𝑂 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝐿𝐴𝑈𝐺𝐻𝑇𝐸𝑅 °˖➴
C.BG
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ʙᴇᴏᴍɢʏᴜ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꨄ︎ ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ, ꜰᴀɴᴛᴀꜱʏ
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: The stranger you once met eludes you in both understanding and presence. When you make his acquaintance again, he isn't all what he seems...
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: injuries, threat, blood drinking, dead animals, elements of comfort, gyu being a vampire with abilities, reader is a hunter, kissing, dry humping, its just sensual really, suggestive
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.2K
𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 ⚠︎
𝙆𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨…⋆˚࿔ vampire gyu isn’t a new concept but I just had to write something for him it’s so iconic he’s so vamp coded and I just adore making men yearners (he’s really wrecking me this comeback)★ ₊⊹
Double post this week to celebrate release week yay I’m still not over how stunning it is I’m in love 𓆩❤︎𓆪
Twigs snapping under a twisted ankle was a drop of blood in shark infested waters to him; pointed, furred ears turned to the sudden intrusion of suppressed whimpers in an otherwise silent forest, calling him for inspection. To the untrained eye, theres no visual clue of any predator roaming, the light fluttering of bat wings is barely heard or seen high in the canopy, a disarming of defences. It's designed that way. Even when his human form comes forth, nothing stirs or is alerted, he prowls freely. A maroon tinge in moody eyes stalks past a large tree trunk. And the scent of blood, the sweet tangy smell caused his nostrils to flare, inhaling as much of the heavenly scent as possible. It was unfair really, how little awareness he could give his prey to be alerted of his presence, perhaps run away, give a little chase, alas, he was simply unaware of just how adept he was at stealth, truly the perfect evolutionary hunter.
Now a deep crimson, his eyes honed into the source of disturbance. From the creatures attempt to conceal their pain, he had expected a rabbit, or even a lost lamb, not large enough for a full meal but enough to tide him over. Instead, among the leaves scattered along the rocky forest ground, a small child, no more than 10 years of age hunched over, fawning over a scraped knee. An internal conflict wracked his mind, it had been many days since his last feeding, not quite enough to reach the starving point but more than hungry enough to question it, only made more conflicting now his food was insight and seeping from the wound. Alas, he approaches.
"These woods are dangerous for a little lamb like you to be wandering alone. You never know what might be lurking where you can't see" your head snaps up in attention, darting to see where the silky voice had come from, a small gasp leaves your lips upon the sight of the towering man revealing himself from behind the trees. He didn't appear like anyone you had ever seen, soft snow skin and raven locks flowing along his neckline. He's reminiscent of the princes read to you in fairytales, hailing from far away lands of swashbuckling adventures and stardust coated dreams.
"I was chasing a rabbit" wobbly lips rasped, unsuccessfully concealing any pain that you felt.
"A rabbit? Perhaps you were not meant to be a hunter" he muses you with a soft smile, presenting his full body slowly as he steps into your view line.
"I wasn't trying to kill it, I wanted to befriend it" sensing the certainty in your statement, he cocks his head in amusement, approaching to kneel in front of you, creating an equal eye line.
"I see. Creatures as small as rabbits tend to be cautious of things much larger than themselves. I fear that's a trait you lack" despite the severity of his words, he offers a smirk on his lips.
"I'm not going to be hurt, I come to the woods everyday" the confidence is beyond amusing to him and for a moment the naivety reminds him of a time long past. A time when blood was not the driving force of his vitality and the sun still embraced him.
"Can you keep a secret?" He waits for a confirmative nod, your smaller gaze focused on him, watching as his hand cautiously reaches out to your injured knee. You're sure you should be afraid that a stranger is reaching out to touch you, and yet there is no attempt to stop him. "I too have come to these woods for many years now, longer than you have been alive. I know every tree root and stream that runs through like the back of my hand. But one thing I will never do is let my guard down. There is always something scarier than yourself out here. That knowledge is what's allowed me to return to the woods everyday" palm brushing gently over the scrap to reveal that the skin beneath had healed in a matter of seconds completely enraptures your mind, gasping as the realisation sets in. Even for a child of only 10, you know that it's simply impossible for something of this world, and yet you sit, clutching a healthy knee. Looking up to confront the man who had seemingly healed you, you find... nothing. Nothing remains of the man who was in your company just moments ago, the forest around you had reverted itself to the state it once had, silence.
── .✦
The next time you encounter your prince, you are too old for fairytales; you've outgrown your fanciful imagination, exposed to the harsh realities of the world around you had roughened you around the edges and grounded you in truth and fact. You long for the mysticism you once felt, a divine reasoning to the fateful encounter in the woods all those years ago, but it always seems to evade you whenever you try to catch it, grasping desperately with digging fingernails. You can't find a way to explain how your wound had sealed in seconds, exhausted all possibilities past what you know and what you simply fail to comprehend.
Despite all of this, there's a pestering urge inside you understand, call it stubbornness but it gripes you endlessly, a puzzle with the final piece missing. The man you encountered that day had made such an impression on your growing mind you chase him subconsciously, search for him in the shadows of the trees to no prevail. You tell yourself it doesn't matter, you should focus on your task at hand, but that persistent urge remains no matter how much you bury it.
His words then had branded your pride, you were not the smartest nor the fastest and your experience had proved that one day it would get you killed. So you picked up a bow after that day, desperate to become proficient with your weapon of choice. Luckily you adapted quickly, at just 20 years of age you have more skill than your brothers you became the provider for your family, hunting anything from small game to larger meals. Your expertise had earned you vigilance, enough so when you find a hunched figure instead of the rabbit flitting in the crosshairs of your arrow, you halt.
A steady trigger finger shakes for the first time since that day when you recognise those silky raven locks and porcelain complexion only now tarnished with the blood of the tiny creature you were hunting. It drips messily from his chin while his eyes widen, from the look in them you had managed to sneak up on him. There's no doubt it's him, the man whose ghost you've been chasing for years, except he looks not a day older while you have grown in stature and appearance. No sign of ware or marring on his features.
You suppose what he was doing- consuming that rabbit wasn't much different from your own intentions, a hearty stew was awaiting your family at the end of the day, but the way he's teared it apart, massacring it in such a way seems... utterly barbaric. The primitive instinct inside you doesn't tell you that 'this is nature, the prey and the predator' instead it tells you to run, anywhere you can away from the active threat in your reticle so your legs take you home, weaving the trees and anything in between.
When you close your front door behind you, there's the feeling that if he wants to find you, hunt you down like you were doing, he would. When that never happens, you're unsure if you should be grateful or fear it. The carmine hue to his irises struck that sentiment home for you, something so deeply unsettling and unnatural lay in them.
You lay in your bed that night battling yourself for fleeing as you did, you let the fright control you the same way ignorance once had from what you had searched far and wide for, him.
You leave home the next day with your bow slung around your back and determination to catch the man once more. You know it's a long shot, your better judgement knows it too so when a steady voice breaks the silence around you as you crouch close to the ground, that fear floods in once more.
"I apologise for startling you, little lamb" you clearly aren't as concealed as you thought, his eyes penetrate straight through the thickets you hide in to stare right into your soul. They don't glow crimson now, inky with tones of burnt umber as if it's typical for humans eyes to change. "For then and yesterday"
You would be foolish to assume that he hadn't remembered you. You're older but not so unrecognisable from the small girl wounded on the forest floor as you sneak in the bushes now, especially for a man of his mystique. You do the one thing you couldn't back then: defend yourself.
In a hair of a second, you're stood, bow drawn point blank to the man as you cautiously step out from your hiding spot, keeping the tip of the arrow pointed towards him.
"What are you?" You interrogate, eyes as piercing as the arrow you have laid and waiting if he tries anything. But he just stands there, unmoving, like the arrow means nothing to him. You shudder the thought.
"I wish you no harm" his palms face you in surrender, it's for show, if he wanted you dead you would be, although your bow does a decent job of making you feel slightly more secure. It's foolish but it's instinctual. Your posture holds, a clear signal to him you are not backing away from your intrigue.
It's all for naught, he's gone from your sight in a split second. It shouldn't be possible but you know better with this stranger, you can no longer see him but you can feel him, stalking and prowling around you. Every crack of twigs forces your bow in the direction of the intrusion ringing in your ears, moments stretching to what feels like hours as you anticipate his return.
But how can you when the being you're up against is so clearly superior in every sense, narrow fingers grip your jaw and slither round your arm drawn in an instant. It's constricting just enough to hold you in place without injury, disarming you physically and in spirit, you can try to wriggle free but his hold is just too overpowering.
This close he can hear the thump thump of your elivated pulse below your skin, smell the syrupy candy that flows through your veins below his fingertips. Hell, your body is so petrified he can see the major vein that runs along the juncture of your neck all the way past your collarbone jump in his presence, begging to bitten down into and drained of every drop of essence. His mouth waters for the aromatic scent, fangs barely graze that delicate skin laying so sweetly for him, he's insatiable for the chance to taste you that reigning himself in is a strain. "You're a clever girl, I'm sure you understand what this means" his growl reverberates your skull.
That subtle prick, barely there but the promise of those fangs digging a little deeper and piercing straight through your neck, you know what he is. They were also in your bedtime stories, while the princes lived in gold crusted castles, these creatures resided in the dark, the only way to know they stalked was the trail of shrivelled corpses, drained of every drop. They were cautionary tales of vigilance, a myth told to ensure kids were tucked up in bed after dark, but the twinge at your pulse point, the harrowing warmth of his breath there, you know they are more than stories.
By the time the realisation that you are knocking deaths door comes, he's gone again, the soft constriction seizing your body lets loose, he's lost into the forest like that first day you encountered him.
── .✦
For the next few weeks, you catch what you think are glimpses of him flitting through the woodland, flashes in the corner of your eyes that when you turn around are never there. Your fear dwindles with each sighting, you know now that you would not become a meal so easily, his preferences are the small creatures you also hunt, and not frequently enough to diminish your supply. You can only hope his appetite will not grow to include you.
Above all, he seems curious of you. You can say the same for yourself, the initial reaction to finding out that his kind exists is one you wrestled with, a world view you had steadily built over years came crashing down from a few meetings. Then you can only feel acceptance. He is a creature with needs the same as you and all the animals in the food chain. What once was savagery to you, how you had found him devouring his meal, was now no different to the bears or big cats you weary from, nature has no words such as 'savage' and 'barbaric'. To feel superiority because you hunt with weapons would be senseless. Though you can't help but marvel prowess, and his is impeccable.
Eventually you spot him perched on a lower hanging branch in the canopy. Instinctively your bow is retracted and facing him once more, though when you realise it's him, you reluctantly pull down, going about your tasks of setting up fresh traps. You both say little to each other the first time, just observing subtly the way you traverse the world around you was interesting enough for the both of you. It's fragile, the trust between you; it could shatter if one of you treads wrong, yet neither of you traverses over that line.
It grows steadily, flourishing each time you meet with mutual understanding. Gradual conversations act as the sunlight that bud of trust requires to bloom, and the shared time in each other's presence as the water. One time, you lead him to your small hunting cabin where you prepare the carcasses for supper and for the pelts once you saw his attempt to conceal his cowering from the sunlight piercing through the foliage. It's increasingly endearing how he endures the discomfort of daytime to simply accompany you. Hiding out in the cabin allowed you time to be curious, you learn his name is Beomgyu and to his knowledge is 186 years old, and he learns your favourite season is autumn, the oncoming frost and desolation of winter is but a promise that life will bloom again.
Eventually, you even grow fond of each other, instead of simple occurrences of meetings you seek each other out. Your days are filled with pleasantry where silence once laid, sometimes he guides you hunting, detecting the prey with heightened senses and marvelling your skills with the bow. Some days, when your stockpile is bountiful enough, he reads to you, novels he's collected over the years or his favourites from his youth. He's had plentiful years to scour the expanses of literature, but you suspect the words elevate off the page not from the elegance of the stories but from his saccharine voice, soothing your soul like a lullaby.
Spending so much time in his company means you come to talk about everything, big and small. Sometimes you converse about the tribulations he's faced in his 186 years, the lessons he's learned watching almost two centuries pass. Others, the quiet is filled by only meaningless chatter. You eagerly await both the same, always greeted with the same Cheshire Cat grin and your nickname.
You had asked him on one of those days where conversations flow to little significance, huddled up in the cabin to escape the scorching afternoon rays, how that nickname had come to fruition.
"Beomgyu?" You lift your head from the book he had gifted you to read to where he's settled on the window seat. Luckily the cabin is north facing so he can observe the sun bathe the forest from a safe distance like he does most days when tucked away in cover. You sympathise with that longing he holds on his face, yearning to be kissed by the sun just once more. "Yes, little lamb?" He replies before you can reflect upon that thought.
"Why do you always call me that?" His gaze is on you, attention undivided.
"What... 'little lamb'? I have called you that since the day we met" he recalls that day as you do, you had come a long way from that incognisant child.
"I know...I just, wanted to know why a lamb?"
He seems to ponder that consciously, chin rested in his palm as he turns to face you fully now "Well, humans had always reminded me of sheep, you all think like a herd, your faith can rally a whole congregation into rejoice, but your wraith can create an armageddon. But when I saw you lying on the ground that day, I only saw innocence, much like a lamb. I couldn't bring myself to make you my prey" it's where your trust in him had initially solidified, he told you that when he was reborn as the creature he is, his thirst was insatiable, could hardly contain himself into overfeeding on humans that it made him sick. The guilt came next, it swallowed and consumed him to the point of swearing to only feed on humans when the animal blood could no longer sustain him, and even then he would never feed to the point of death. He told you how starving he was that day, yet he never drank from you. From that, trust was cultivated.
"What does that make you?" You muse playfully, he takes the hint and plays along, his grin grows tenfold.
"I guess that would make me the wolf, the natural predator of the sheep, stealthy enough that the sheep never sees it coming" he puffs his chest in faux conceit, putting on a humorous show for you.
"And yet the wolf is capable of domestication. You are nothing more than an overgrown puppy" if the vampire had any blood still pumping, his cheeks would have glowed from the infectious giggle spilling from your lips.
"You are the one who follows me around like a lost puppy, you tell me who the domesticated one is" he scorns mischievously, facing the window once more with crossed arms.
"Your days would be so incredibly long and boring without me, admit it. Majority of the time it's you that waits for me" you scoff with jest and he never replies, just watches you from the corner of his eyes with a sense of knowing that what you say is true. It's dangerous to admit that, so he bites his tongue.
You often fantasise about what it would be like to touch him, run your fingers through those luscious raven locks that up close, earthy tones seep through, but he always seems so flighty whenever you get close enough to brush him. You are not blind, he's a beautiful man, the most you've ever been witness to and now you know him inside and out you think there's not a soul alive that could come close to the seat he holds in your heart. Apprehension is the thing that prevents you from reaching out to close the distance when he pulls away, that look of pity you picture him to stare at you with terrifies you. Foolish, foolish girl, for being naive enough to dream.
One day you bridge that gap too closely, he arrives to you after an embarrassing scuffle with his prey, you suppose the success rate for any predator cannot be 100%. Tuffs of hay and dried dirt stick to his hair and cheeks mockingly, he knows from your giggle upon seeing him. When you are finished with your quips, he bends slightly so that you can reach to shed him of tarnishes, but the look of pure concentration in your eyes, not allowing a singular hair to fall out of place on-top his head once you've plucked the straw proves too overwhelming for him. When the warmth your hand radiates touches the iciness of his skin as you scrub the stubborn marks away he flinches. Flinches so far away from you the only way to escape that oppressive desire is to leave. He does so with such haste your hand is still raised and ready as the empty space from which he once stood remains.
He never meets you out in the woodlands the next day like he usually does, nor does he wait in the cabin. You must have done something wrong, you think, for him to flee in such a manner, yet what that is escapes you. You feel guilt and anger and sadness and all the baser emotions before settling on worry, for it was not like him to avoid meeting with you in some capacity. You wonder if he fell sick with something and then remember his body is too robust for viruses that afflict you, exerting any and all possibilities. It petrifies you to think something has happened to him, something you cannot save him from, so when a week passes and still no word of him, you take matters to your own hands.
The rain is torrential, soaking the ground to the roots and with such ferocity it's challenging to navigate the way to your cabin, the way ahead is obscured with sheets of silver as the drops lash down, pelting your cloak. You have to persevere if you want even a chance to catch him, it's optimal time for his hunt, his senses penetrate through the rain with little effect to his honed skillset, even through the shadowy veil of night. Trudging forward is a hassle so you mentally thank your feet for getting you to your destination, the cabin lays as still as it has been for days.
You clamber inside to escape the rain as quickly as you can but it doesn't escape you that the oil lamp you keep on the table is lit, only light enough to cast shadows along the walls with minimal illumination. What it means lights your spirit. Beomgyu must have been here.
"Beomgyu? Where are you?" You call out into the space, it's not a large room but big enough that the murky corners bleed out to obscure your view. You squint your eyes to gather more information of the space around you, there's little where for him to hide once your vision hones into the hunched figure on the ground.
"You need to leave, lamb" his voice sounds pained, struggling to huff out as you recognise the figure to be him, curled up in on himself in the corner, the sound of fingernails scratching into the wooden floorboards sounds raw in your ear.
"Are you okay-" you rush to be by his side "It's not safe!" He snaps, turning his body away to distance himself, hoping to discourage you from stepping closer, but not before you witness the wince in his brows, keening over in agony. If it's not sickness, then it must be hunger, though you've never seen him so hysterical.
"When was the last time you fed?" Your voice is tender, he curses that it must be readable how starved he is, or possibly it's that you can see through his facade.
"It's not of your concern" his words come out harsh but you know the source of his concern is not to trouble you. You are well aware of his stubbornness by now, in fact it's trait you share so you understand his reluctance to ask for help, yet it aggravates you so. Here he is, writhing on the floor in pained whimpers when you sit with his vitality running through your veins.
"Feed from me" your solution is simple, but almost instinctively he snaps back "I will not!"
"Beomgyu, you must! You are shaking!" Your barking match continues
"I won't and that's the end of it!" His fist collides with the wooden beams beside him, punching straight through and with his voice loud enough to momentarily halt the ambience of the torrent downpour outside, you grow silent. You watch as he fights to sit upright, no better than a wounded animal in finesse and it stings, the man you have come to love sits in anguish refusing you as you offer yourself.
"...please, I can't bear to see you like this knowing I can help. You know how I trust you" your voice is delicate this time, hoping to appeal to his softer nature.
Moments pass in silence except for the laboured breaths he exhales, gathering all composure he can to lay out his weakness before you "It's myself that I don't trust"
"You feed from people without killing them all the time, why would I be any different?" You feel for him, you will never know the torment of having to take from once you were, feeling all that is left of your humanity slip through your fingers as you gorge yourself on it, a spectator to the mortality reflected before you.
"Because it's-..." he halts before feeling the words spill over "-it's you" his words maim you.
"Is my blood not good enough?" You huff in jest, hiding the dejected feeling of rejection from him though he sees it. He sees more than you know.
"The opposite. I'm afraid I won't be able to stop myself nor get enough. That I'll never want any other blood again once I've had you" he's exhausted himself empty from the hunger, his armour comes crashing down before allowing a glimpse of the infatuation for you stowed behind his eyes. He receives the confirmation your heart feels the same when it thumps against your chest rapidly, pumping that sweet nectar that pushes him so close to the edge of control.
"Then don't" the words tumble from your lips, you need no time to think it over "Wha-?"
"Feed from me and only me, take your fill from the animals and then come to me when you are in need" you play a dangerous game, dangling the only prize he has ever craved so desperately like a piece of candy, like it's all so simple. That rumble deep in his stomach makes it so difficult to see sense, something that any other time he would flat out refuse. Because underneath all of it, if any harm came to you from his hand, he would condemn himself for the rest of his days.
You crouch to his height, beginning to crawl towards him with steadiness to avoid spooking him away from your touch. When you reach his thighs you place your own on either side, planting yourself in his lap. He can overpower you in an instant, even in the state he's in, so you understand he's allowing you this close, permitting the way your palm cradles his cheek with tenderness.
Phantom pains are something he's heard of, the feeling of a limb that no longer belongs and he knows it true now, the ghost of where his heart use to beat rings through him from your proximity, the way you tilt your neck in open invitation. It's dizzying for him, a thick haze clouding his mind that he can see all of you this close and smell you so intensely, digging his nose into that juncture.
"You have to mean it. Because once I start, there's little that will be able to stop me" he needs you to understand the gravity of what you ask, there's every possibility he takes too much from you in his greed, yet you care not, not when he looks up to you with glassy eyes, pining for you so beautifully.
"Please take all you need" your admission jolts his limbs awake, hands pinning your waist securely so that you can't wriggle from his grasp, as if you'd ever want to. He snakes his fingers to the back of your head, carding through your hair in a display of affection before he takes, slipping his lips along the skin he needs. You expect the stab of his fangs and instead are met with open mouth kisses along your collarbone, devouring all of you before he even tastes your blood with passion you have not known, he's feening for you.
Whispering words of apologies and caution of how it will only hurt for a brief moment blurs into the burning sensation of penetrating teeth right into your pulse point, setting ablaze to your nervous system as your body fights the feeling of shock. The ache is consuming you faster than you can catch up to, you stabilise yourself on his shoulders but it does little to steady your delirious mind. He constricts his hold anywhere he can reach, tugging the supple skin of your thigh once the first drop of your blood hits his tongue. He becomes a crazed man, devouring you in a frenzy when the warm syrup coats his throat, mewling for the exquisiteness taste. Suckling down everything he can is the tipping point of your suffering, subsiding into something akin to euphoria, the gates of heaven are pearly and opening for you.
Loosing all control of cognitive bodily functions, all he knows is to drink and lap up all you can give to him, the rutting of his hips upwards to meet your core is all subconscious desire that he no longer has the reigns over. When you grind down in his lap, he whimpers and whines into where your bodies connect, you feel his hardness growing beneath you. He's throbbing and it makes you cry out in pleasure, it's not all take but give as the sensations of him consuming you are rapturous, not falling but soaring. It's ravenous how he gulps, he drains you to the point of whirling wooziness, the blood-loss is rearing its head and you can do nothing about it. You're too lost in him.
It's up to him to notice how sedated you appear, you're pliant in his arms and unable to focus on how his fingers dig into your plump flesh, no longer chasing his touch like you had been. Its reluctance to retract his fangs, he could have easily sipped until there was nothing left but that's the last thing he wants "Lamb, tell me you're okay"
He gathers your head in his palm, tapping your cheek with the pad of his thumb to alert you.
It's like you've taken a long slumber to awaken to the contents of your dreams in waking life, Beomgyu sits before you, only looking at you, your blood tints his lips, utterly captivated by you.
"Take me, Beomie…please. Fuck me” he can see the adoration clouded by desire displayed in your eyes as you stare at him, lightheaded but sincere as you beg. How could he refuse you with that devotion; he would have to be a man possessed. Blood stained lips curl into a snarl, capturing yours in a rushed, passionate kiss and murmurs so softly,
“With pleasure”
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @nota10butadefinite8 @buttersoob
Hi! I just wanted to say I really love the way you write. I was also wondering if you could write something featuring Taehyun with a mix of fluff/comfort and a bit of smut :)
𝐵𝐸𝑇𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝑅𝑂𝑈𝐺𝐻 𝐴 𝑆𝐶𝑅𝐸𝐸𝑁 ⊱ ₊˚⊹⋆
K.TH
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɪᴅᴏʟ!ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: one perk of having a famous boyfriend is the endless content at your fingertips, though sometimes that content has you craving for him
ꨄ︎ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: established relationship, fluff and some softness, smut, softdom!tyun, oral (f.rec), slight teasing, slight praise, slight voyerism? (The risk of it ig), slight aftercare, lmk if I missed any
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.5k
𝙆𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨…⋆˚࿔ my first request, thank you so much for enjoying my work that much I really hope this lives up to what you imagined!!! I’m always here if wanna see anything else⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
The new album… I’m quite literally in heaven listening to it over and over, being a moa is the gift that keeps giving because we get so many beautiful songs I could cry anyways thank you txt for blessing our ears and everyone go listen!! ฅ^>⩊<^ ฅ
Jingling of keys permeates right through the dead corridor, peering over your shoulder like somehow your keys entering the lock and turning is some crime you have yet to find out you are committing, you unlock it with caution untold. The dorm appears quiet when you enter, though that could all be a facade if you know the occupants inside. It could be so silent you hear pins drop and in the next moment Kai is bursting from his room with something on his phone everyone just has to see immediately; so no, you don't trust stillness.
"Tyun?" You call out with vigilance yet as you hear his handle turning from down the hall, you feel something close to embarrassment snake up your neck leaving goosebumps in its wake, wishing you could just swallow your words back up and bury them deep enough to think about it, even for just a second. It feels so silly now you stand here, his belongings surrounding you, mocking you for being so selfish. He must be beyond wiped out, comeback preparations in full swing and more still to come and here you are, demanding more of him because you couldn't control yourself seeing how the camera had captured him for a recent interview.
It's not like you had prepared for it either, but the lighting had caught that honey glow to his skin you could only really see up close, picked up on that slight amber in his eyes, the ones you see staring back at you, underneath your sheets, his, anywhere you can if you're being honest with yourself and suddenly that admiration you have hearing him talk about upcoming projects plummets deeper in the pit of your stomach. You feel no better than a hormonal teenager, and that shame only matures seeing him pad through the living area to you.
"You okay? You really don't seem it. Are you sick?" His visually checks you over, reaching out a cautious hand to gauge your temperature. You do in fact feel hot to the touch, cheeks flushed not from sickness but from the desire you reluctantly feel bubbling up inside you.
"I'm okay, really, I just- are you sure the boys are all out?" You couldn't think of anything more mortifying than admitting what you are about to with prying ears, especially those of his teammates and dear friends.
"I'm sure, they all have schedules or whatever else they told me they'd be busy with, I wasn't really listening 'cause I was too concerned with your message" he starts, fingers brushing the hair away from your eyes with affection "Now, are you going to tell me what's wrong before I loose my mind?"
You grimace when you detect the apprehension in his voice, perhaps your text of 'I need to see you' with no emojis or anything to soften the blow might have him anxious with worry like he appears to be now. You definitely should have thought that out before putting your craving into words, because now Taehyun stares at you anticipating your distress.
"It sounds so selfish now..." you veer off, turning away from him because you can't bare the look of frustration he has a habit of hiding, like how he hides his exhaustion. Even now, he appears flushed with vibrancy, like he hadn't spent the entire day out of breath exhausting choreography.
"It's not selfish to come to me when something's troubling you, what else would I be here for?" He allows a soft smile to grace his lips, hoping to coax your problems from you, filling up his cup to relieve you of that weight. In your anxiousness, the attribute of his you adore the most had slipped your mind, the one frustration would not touch with you; patience.
"I saw your interview, you just looked so pretty, I wanted to see your face..." the honesty tumbles from your lips before you can catch it, luckily Taehyun is there to break its fall. His soft smile grows into smirk of understanding, his digits gracing the side of your arm in warm embrace.
"Is that all, love?" Playfully prodding, his head dips, lips brushing the shell of your ear while his hands drop lower "or is it because you wanted to see my face between your thighs?"
His voice gnarls, toying with the drawstrings on your joggers you hustled into with haste on your way here. You'd longed for this as you threw them on, that he'd be removing them much like he is currently, peeling the soft cotton from your scorched skin, your abdomen flutters all the same. The plush couch beneath you offers a velvety perch when you're laid back against it, surprised it doesn't catch flame with how hot your passion runs, thighs clenching together involuntarily as Taehyun takes seat in-front of you, finger tips dancing along your plush flesh ever so slowly.
"Don't tease, Tyun..." a whine rips from your throat, you sound a little too desperate for such little buildup already, but you've been envisioning this ever since you first made your way here.
"Wouldn't dream of it" voice so sickly sweet with faux truth, this is all fun to him, you whining and writhing before him pumps his blood with adrenaline and craving. "Open for me"
You oblige his demand with pleasure, your lace panties are the barrier between your cunt and his lips yet he looks entranced all the same, the sky blue material refracting in his eyes like your thighs are the gates to the afterlife he'll willing throw himself into. He could tease you by dragging his lips along your inner thigh, bite with little but enough force it jolts every nerve ending awake, instead his lips ghost over the satin concealing your core.
With little warning, you buck your hips to the first contact, fingers threading through his hair as his tongue soaks through the material like your arousal already had. He holds back a groan the best he can until his tongue slips past your panties, the first taste of you like sugar on his tongue and just as addicting.
"This what you wanted, love? Cause fuck am I glad you decided you needed to see me so urgently" you keen to his words, the desperation clung to his voice like he’s already way too far under your spell to care for much else. His tongue laps you up, not even bothering to remove your panties completely, pulling them aside is enough to chase your taste with delight. His lips latch to your bud, suckling like his life is dependant on gifting you with the feeling of bliss, needs to feel you come undone under his touch.
His lips pick up tempo to match your whimpers, when gripping his hair can’t give you enough penchant for vigor, you dig your hands into the cushions around you with intensity you’re surprised doesn’t rip right through. You’re close, you can feel it and he can see it, begging for your attention; the sight of those amber orbs you once saw through the screen now permeate right through every sense.
“Come for me, love, show me how much you wanted this” how can you refuse him when he asks so prettily? A renewed determination to see your eyes glaze over lust, arriving at that point where you reach for the sky and touch stars instead, you fall without much thought in it, mind numb to the sensation of his lips navigating each inch of intimacy. The roll of your hips and his name spewing from inside your chest and he feels the way you collapse beneath his body, spent from just a few minutes between your thighs. He chuckles heartily, you really must have been needy for him.
“You okay?” He asks, voice soothing that bridge from your high to the gentleness of covering you under the warmth of a blanket. You can’t answer, not quite yet while you chase the breath back to your lungs, your hand rests atop his caressing your hip tenderly. “I feel better now” there’s delicacy in the moment, head rested on the pillow Taehyun fluffs up for you to sit up slightly, a glow on his features as he stares so lovingly towards you. Not much could shatter the peace you’ve created together here, born from pure lust is something that’s hushed and stable, soothed when he climbs behind you on the couch to embrace you.
Like you understand about the dorms, silence is never preserved for long, the voices howling from the corridor outside are a reminder that this sanctuary cannot last forever, much to yours and Taehyuns dismay. The grin on his face contradicts this though, not even so much as embarrassment lays in his features but something resembling jesting, arms pulling you closer and lips peppering light kisses to your neck “At least I got you to finish before the hoard came back”
You chuckle and simply take in as much of the restfulness as you can before the key turns in the door, spilling open with the tumble of four boys.
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @nota10butadefinite8 @buttersoob
𝑇𝑂 𝐶𝐴𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝑂𝑅 ⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
HN.K
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɪᴅᴏʟ!ʜᴜᴇɴɪɴɢᴋᴀɪ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: you didn’t prepare for your period so soon, luckily for you, your boyfriend did
ꨄ︎ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: established relationship, periods, blood, the tiniest bit of angst but not even, Kai being the sweetest, soft kisses
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1k
𝙆𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨…⋆˚࿔ just a quick lil thing I whipped up while I work on something for gyu and jjun, soft kai is always on my mind ₊˚ ᰔ
The unshakable pang of discomfort was the first thing felt when you opened your eyes. The gentle glow of daybreak spilling through the cracks in the thin blinds signalling it was early; earlier than you should be awake considering the hour your head hit the pillow. Then, the unmistakable sensation of wetness underneath you.
Peeling back the covers confirmed your suspicion, crimson red staining his light sheets sent you into a static panic, hovering over the mattress to not make it any worse. Subsequently, your shuffling forces his consciousness awake, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes with the ball of his hand.
"Love, what time is it?" Halfheartedly propping himself up on his elbow, eyes still hooded with tiredness.
"Hyuka, I'm sorry" is the only response you can muster, bash-idly glancing below you, beckoning his eyes to follow when you can't find the words to tell him. His fingers pull back at the covers to allow his gaze to fall on the dark stain on the linen. Kai releases a soft hum of understanding, lifting himself from the bed entirely.
The self conscious part of you expects his withdrawal to be from disgust, but you know him better than that, watching as he shuffles over from his side to yours, opening his hands as an invitation, one you take. Guiding you off the bed, the warmth of his palm against the small of your back dissipates any worry.
"Don't apologise for something like this. You can shower while I change the sheets, the guys won't be up for a while so take as long as you need" his voice is so soft, delicately laced with warmth and understanding, like you had hung the stars out yourself, a habit of his you would never tire of, always so gentle.
"You don't need to do that, I can" you offer immediately, partly conscious that he would see the blood more and partly the guilt.
"It's not like I mind, it'll take like 2 minutes, just worry about getting comfortable" his voice barely pitches, like it's not an issue for him at all. Against all better judgment you know it shouldn’t be, yet you just can’t help doubt from latching its talons into you.
"I don't have any pads or tampons anyway so I'll have to get some before I do" your tone is insistent but his fingers brushing your back silently shushes you, lulling you into security.
"I have some, should be in the back of here" stating, padding across the room absentmindedly and searching the bottom shelf of his wardrobe.
"You do?" Your voice hitches in intrigue, watching him fish around until he produces a few options of pads and tampons like he raided the store and was unsure which was best so he took them all.
"Hmm, got them a while back incase you ever needed them. Guess I was right" the smile on his face is radiant, overjoyed to be of service to you. It warms you inside and out, like a puppy dropping a present by your feet. The praise is forgotten when he can witnesses the relief of you knowing it’s taken care of.
That puppies attention is quickly diverted back inside the wardrobe, tugging a pile and pulling a towel for you too.
“Here, now you have everything you need, I’ll be waiting when you come out” the fluff of the towel is as plush as the kiss he plants on your forehead, caressing your arm with fondness. The short kiss you press to his lips is a wordless thank you, feeling the guilt when he pushes forward slightly to chase your lips when you part; there’s time for affections when you are showered and clean though.
After discarding your stained clothes, the shower awaits you with tender rain, cordial in temperature and feeling, letting the droplet’s cascade past you. The bottles of expensive hair products you left from your last visit sit opened, amber gloops of mango and passion fruit drip past the packaging, all evidence of Kai’s paws swiping at your supplies. Right now you can’t find it in yourself to care in the slightest, though a puffed snort leaves you from the lack of concealing his tracks.
When you step out and blanket yourself in the baby blue of the towel, the ache you felt in your abdomen that the water rinsed out returns with a vengeance, swamping you with sluggish movement. You barely manage to dress yourself correctly with that niggling soreness now stretching to your lower back, the tag of your shirts hangs around your neck, mocking your limited mobility. You won’t change it now you have it on.
And Kai won’t say anything, not with the way your features droop and shoulders sag, shuffling from the retreat of the bathroom into his room that now smells of fresh laundry and a hint of caramel, encasing you in the sanctuary he’s created for you. He’s pulled the sheets back to welcome you in, now darker in colour to avoid your dejection, all the little things he notices. He enters with grace, balancing a mug of warm contents, steam curling and hands full of biscuits; your favourite, you note.
“Here, take these” he holds the handle of the mug towards you, ensuring your grip is secure before handing you pills to still the discomfort. He won’t even do much as let you place the mug down yourself, fawning over your every move, hovering over you to assist. There’s no need to beckon him back to bed with you, he’s already there, climbing in with such delicacy you’d hardly know he was there if not for the timid hands reaching for you. He’ll let you decide where he can touch you, where’s comfortable and it’s all too much sweetness, a sugar rush you’ll let in every time.
Eliminating any space between your bodies, you cling to him, snaking hands around his torso and his heartbeat falls into steady rhythm under your head. Fingertips stroke your arms, tranquillising, pacifying.
“Thank you, Hyuka” you tell him, there’s no need to move from his chest to tell there’s a softened smile rested on his lips. The kiss he places into your hair is a confession, sometimes words are not needed to convey the love held in your heart. Sometimes it’s in the warm beverage by your side, the arms wrapped tightly around you. Sometimes it’s the plans forgotten in favor of replenishment, of being so seen its glaringly obvious, striking your heart with the knowledge you are loved.
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @nota10butadefinite8 @buttersoob
✦ ݁˖꒰ঌ 𝒯𝒳𝒯 𝑀𝒜𝒮𝒯𝐸𝑅𝐿𝐼𝒮𝒯 ໒꒱✦ ݁˖
⋆˚꩜。 guide: [f] = fluff [a] = angst [m] = mature [nsfw] = contains smut or other warnings listed ⋆˚꩜。
. ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊𝒴𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒿𝓊𝓃.݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ݁₊
ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴋɴᴏᴡ
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ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ꜱʜɪᴘꜱ ᴄᴏʟʟɪᴅᴇ
wc: 12.4k [a,m,nsfw]
. ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊𝒮𝑜𝑜𝒷𝒾𝓃.݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ݁₊
ᴛʙᴀ
. ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊𝐵𝑒𝑜𝓂𝑔𝓎𝓊.݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ݁₊
ʟᴀᴍʙ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʟᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ
wc: 5.2k [m,nsfw]
ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴡᴀʀᴅ
wc: 8.2k [a,f,m]
ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴘʟᴀʏ
wc: 3.4k [nsfw]
ᴡʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴜʀɪᴇᴅ
wc: 4.5k [a,m,nsfw]
.݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊𝒯𝒶𝑒𝒽𝓎𝓊𝓃.݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ݁₊
ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴀ ꜱᴄʀᴇᴇɴ
wc: 1.5k [f,nsfw]
ᴜɴʀᴀᴠᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ᴇxʜᴀᴜꜱᴛɪᴏɴ
wc: 1.1k [f]
ʙɪʀᴅ ᴏꜰ ɴɪɢʜᴛ
wc: 2.1k [f,nsfw]
݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊𝐻𝓊𝑒𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓀𝒶𝒾.݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁
ᴀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ
wc: 900 [f,m]
ᴄᴏɴᴊᴜʀᴇ ᴍᴇ
wc: 12.4k [a,m,nsfw]
ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ
wc: 1k [f]
Disclaimer: all works are not a true representation of the idols and are works of fiction
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @nota10butadefinite8 @buttersoob
ⓒ 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑡𝑢𝑠