TFR: A Stranger under our roofs (ch 2): in progress....
snippet: "As you were about to get up and make your great escape the door opened. An unfamiliar head popped in, you couldn't see his face well since the only light source came from behind him, but all you saw is his blonde hair pulled together in a messy bun, clearly just not long enough to put it in that hair style. Before you could utter a word he called out to someone "She is awake.""
TIKC: A King Who Does not thaw (ch 2): not yet started
Number Game: 2 request
no 8 w/ Jeongin x reader NSFW not yet started
no.3 w/ Seugmin: almost finished (snippet under the cut bc nsfw)
snippet: "You woke up at three am, drenched in sweat, panting and feeling like your body is burning up, and as you were about to get up to open the window when you realised you aren't alone in your room. You were about to scream when the human looking creature closed the distance between the two of you, and put his hand on your mouth leaning in your ear. "Now now I prefer if you scream my name"..."
childhood friend!Hyunjin × gn!Reader
genre: angst, slice of life, friends to possible lovers, eventual fluff
warning(s): Hyunjin yearning, break up, sad reader, pinning
wc: 1,273
divider(s): @cursed-carmine
an: My very first Stayblr request, hope you like it and it is how you wanted it @eudonyx! and I want to thank for my lovely editor @shipwithnocaptain and to my lovely beta reader, without yall I couldn’t have done it.
main masterlist
You and Hyunjin always had something special. Ever since kindergarten you’ve been inseparable — you, the quiet, reserved kid, who always coloured and the ever-dramatic Hyunnie, who never really asked if you wanted to be friends, he said it to you as a matter of fact one day. “You are my friend.” And so you were; at first you didn’t do much, you coloured next to him or during the mandatory outside play time, you listened to him talk while you guys were on the swings.
As you grew older, your parents practically married the two of you, but life had other plans. You went to the same high school, and then university as well, but while he majored in painting, you took photography and writing, hoping that some day you could create articles for people.
During the third semester of your studies, you met your current boyfriend, which unbeknownst to you, hurt Hyunjin, although he would never admit it. Especially not to you; and as a stab in the stomach the guy was great too. Your boyfriend made you feel loved and cared for, so Hyunjin was happy. He also dated girls, had some on-and-off relationships and made some questionable choices, but he was fine with it. Sometimes the two of you went on a double date, and life was fun. He even became friends with him. Not too close, but regardless still both made sure to ask if he wanted to hang out.
He secretly always hoped you guys wouldn't make it through, that you would finally see how your best friend, Hyunjin, is the one who should be there for you. He was always there, his heart hurting every time he touched you, every time he made you smile, not him, the guy who was always there, who always made sure you that you were the one who was well and successful, yet you never knew that when he called you sniffling after he broke up with yet another girlfriend that it was because he once again couldn't bear all the pain from his best that he isn't the one you call yours on a daily basis.
"Are you okay? What happened?" The worry in your voice made him want to melt away, you were the sweetest being in his eyes. "Can you come over and bring some kimchi jjigae… Please?" He patiently waited until you sat thinking on the other end of the line, the only thing he could hear then was his sniffling. God he felt so pathetic, sitting on his bed in the dorm, in complete darkness, with some overused, outworn hoodie looking out on his window, staring into the summer rain that was unfolding. He kept scolding himself in his head about how he shouldn't make you come over in this weather, when he suddenly heard you speak. Hyunjin couldn't make out exactly the conversation. "Oh if you are having a date night with Drew it's okay, you don't have to come, I'll just order something…" Before he could finish his apology, you got fed up with him apologising, even though his heart had been broken by some idiot. "Hwang Hyunjin, just because I am talking to my boyfriend doesn't mean we are having a date night. We are discussing how it would be better for me to come over! I'll be there in like an hour. Okay?" He didn't want to admit how foolish he is, but somehow you being ready to practically run over to him made Hyunjin feel giddy.
And true to your words, you were there in an hour. He opened the door in a miserable state: eyes red, a disheveled hairstyle and wrapped in the big fluffy sensory blanket you gave to him ages ago. He looked sad, but looking at him in this state, the usual tug on your heart seemed a bit stronger. Although you didn't build your cozy escape this time, but you two still nuzzled close to each other and put on Nothing Hill. Only God knows how many times you two have watched it at this point.
During the movie you saw Hyunjin drifting off to sleep, so you carefully got your phone out to text your boyfriend
Hey, don't wait up for me, I'm probably sleeping at Jinnies place
You watched the three dot appear and disappear until finally his response came:
Okay, sleep well baby<3
You were grateful, but surprised as Drew usually more clingy and easily ropes you into doing what he prefers, but not this time. Your friends usually judge you for it as well, seeing how he is forming into something else, but you usually shut these talks down quite fast.
Time flew by, and you two entered your last semester of uni starting the internship era of your life. With that, you both became quite busy, but still tried your best to chat as often as you could and have a montly phone call session. You didn't tell him that you and Drew hit a rough patch: he constantly came home late smelling different, you suspected him, but you couldn't involve Hyunjin because he had his own plate full of stress. Everything was going well until one day, after a long day at your job and the library, you came home to Drew and some girl from his job in the bed you shared. You don't know what came over you. You cussed him out, grabbed some essential things and called a cab. You didn't crying, until you were standing in front of Jinnie. As soon as he opened his door, you broke down crying. He could barely gather what happened from your words, spoken through tears. All he wanted to do was to punch that guy. How could he do that to the most beautiful and kind human being.
"Go take a shower, I'll make some hot cocoa, and put on Howls Moving Castle." He helped you get to the shower, and tried to quiet the yearning in his heart to just kiss your tears away. He knows it isn't the time or the place, but gosh have you seen yourself? Truly irresistable.
Once he heard the shower turn on, he got to work: he made your favourite brand of hot choco, loaded up the movie, and waited to build your pillowfort, since last time he did it without you, he didn't hear the end of it for at least a year.
After a little while, you emerged from the bathroom, hair damp and wearing his oversized shirt that looked like a dress on you. "God, you're so pretty." He wanted to scream, only realising his inside thoughts were actually voiced aloud once you started blushing a little. "Erm.. i waited with building the pillowfort, now that i have this apartment it is much easier to make one for ourselves." You showed a small, but genuine smile and started building with him. Of course, he did it wrong and you had to scold him "Jinnie, no the chair obviously need to go here so it holds up the sheet well!" He just giggled and joked about how OCD-like you are with this whole ordeal.
Once you both cozied up in your pillowfort, decorated with all the fairy lights known to man strewn about, you nuzzled into him as the familiar sounds of your favourite comfort movie started. Hyunjin tried his best to ignore the beating of his heart, but it was hard. He hated himself for it but he hoped that now that your jerk boyfriend was out the picture, you'd see him in a different light in the future.
Description: You go to your gynecologist for an exam but you get a little too excited and he notices.
Pairing: Doctor!Changbin x Fem!Reader
Genre: SMUT
Word Count: 3.1k
As you step into Dr. Changbin’s office, the sterile scent of antiseptic and the faint hum of the air conditioning unit greet you. The small, clinical space feels colder than you expected, and you tug your thin cardigan tighter around your shoulders as you sit on the edge of the examination table. The crinkle of the paper sheet beneath you is the only sound in the hushed room, save for the distant murmur of voices from the waiting area beyond the closed door. Your pulse quickens, not just from the usual nerves of a gynecological exam, but from the strange anticipation coiling in your gut. You’ve heard about Dr. Changbin—his reputation for being thorough, attentive, and, if the rumors are true, strikingly handsome.
The door opens with a soft click, and in walks Dr. Changbin. He’s younger than you imagined, probably in his early twentys, with sharp, angular features and dark eyes that seem to see right through you. His white coat fits snugly over broad shoulders, and his dark hair is neatly combed back, though a few strands fall across his forehead as he glances at the clipboard in his hand. He offers a small, professional smile, but there’s something in the way his gaze lingers on you for just a split second longer than necessary that makes your breath hitch.
“Good afternoon,” he says, his voice low and smooth, almost too intimate for a doctor’s tone. “I’m Dr. Changbin. I’ll be conducting your exam today. I see this is a routine vaginal check-up, correct? Any concerns or issues you’d like to discuss before we begin?”
You shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper as you reply, “No, just... just the usual.” Your cheeks heat up under his steady gaze, and you shift uncomfortably on the table, the paper crinkling again. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of the thin hospital gown you’ve changed into, the way it leaves your lower half exposed beneath the flimsy fabric tied loosely at the back.
“Alright, then,” he says, setting the clipboard down on the counter with a quiet thud. “Let’s get started. Please lie back and place your feet in the stirrups. Just try to relax.”
You comply, though relaxing feels impossible as you recline on the table, the cold metal of the stirrups chilling the soles of your feet as you position them. Your gown rides up slightly, and you tug at the hem, trying to cover yourself as much as possible. Dr. Changbin pulls on a pair of latex gloves with a sharp snap, the sound echoing in the quiet room, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. He rolls a stool over to the end of the table, positioning himself between your spread legs. Despite the professional setting, the vulnerability of the moment sends a strange heat creeping through your core.
“I’m going to start with an external examination,” he explains, his tone calm and detached, but there’s a subtle edge to it, a roughness that wasn’t there before. “Just let me know if anything feels uncomfortable.”
You nod, biting your lip as his gloved hands gently press against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, guiding them a little wider apart. His touch is clinical, methodical, as he inspects the area, but you can’t help the way your body reacts. Your breath comes a little shorter, and a faint warmth begins to pool low in your abdomen. You pray he doesn’t notice, but as his fingers move closer to your most intimate area, brushing lightly over your outer folds, you feel an involuntary clench of muscles, a telltale sign of arousal.
His movements pause for the briefest of moments, and you glance down to see his eyes flicker up to meet yours. There’s something unreadable in his expression, a glint of curiosity, maybe even amusement, before he looks away and resumes his work. “Everything looks normal so far,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper, as if he’s aware of the charged silence between you.
But then, as he continues the external exam, his thumb grazes over your clit—just a fleeting touch, barely noticeable, except it sends a jolt of electricity through your body. You tense, a quiet gasp escaping your lips before you can stop it. Your eyes dart to his face, searching for any sign that it was intentional, but his expression remains neutral, focused, as if nothing happened. He doesn’t acknowledge the slip, doesn’t apologize, just keeps moving his fingers with deliberate precision, inspecting every inch. Yet, the touch lingers in your mind, and you feel a fresh wave of heat rush between your thighs.
“I’ll move on to the internal exam now,” he says softly, his voice still low, almost conspiratorial. “I’ll be using a speculum first, and then a manual check. Just breathe for me, alright?”
You nod again, your throat dry, as he retrieves the cold metal instrument from a nearby tray. The click of it opening as he adjusts it makes you flinch, and he notices, his lips twitching into the faintest of smirks before he masks it. “Try to relax,” he repeats, his tone softer, and you feel the cold touch of the speculum against you as he gently inserts it. The sensation is uncomfortable, invasive, but there’s something about the way he’s watching you, the way his fingers linger just a bit too long as he adjusts the tool, that sends a conflicting wave of arousal through you. You’re getting wetter, embarrassingly so, and you’re certain he can see it, feel it, as he works.
His eyes flick up to yours again, just for a moment, and this time there’s no mistaking the heat in his gaze. He doesn’t say anything, but the air between you shifts, thickens with unspoken tension. The speculum is removed with a slow, careful motion, and you hear the faint clatter as he sets it aside. “Everything looks good inside,” he murmurs, his voice rougher now, quieter. “I’m going to do a manual check next. Just my fingers, okay? I’ll be gentle.”
Your heart pounds in your chest as he applies a small amount of lubricant to his gloved fingers. You feel the cool slickness as he presses them against your entrance, sliding in with a slow, deliberate push. The sensation is different from the speculum—warmer, more intimate, and you can’t help the way your breath hitches as he begins to explore, his fingers curving slightly, pressing against your inner walls. It’s supposed to be clinical, routine, but the way he moves, the way his touch lingers just a bit too long on certain spots, feels anything but.
“You’re doing great,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, as if he’s afraid someone outside might hear. His thumb brushes over your clit again, this time more deliberately, a slow, circular motion that makes your hips twitch involuntarily. Your eyes widen, a soft whimper escaping your lips before you bite down on them, trying to stay quiet. You glance at him, expecting an apology, an explanation, but instead, you see his jaw tighten, a dark hunger in his eyes as he watches your reaction.
He doesn’t stop. His thumb keeps moving, slow and steady, while his fingers continue to work inside you, pressing deeper, testing your responses. Every touch sends sparks through your body, and you feel yourself growing slicker, your arousal undeniable now. You’re mortified, but you can’t bring yourself to speak, to stop him, not when every nerve in your body is alight with need. The room is so quiet, the only sounds your shallow breaths and the faint wet sounds of his fingers moving inside you.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he mutters under his breath, so low you almost don’t hear it, but the words hit you like a punch, igniting a fresh wave of heat. His thumb presses harder against your clit, rubbing in tight circles, and you feel your thighs tremble, your hands gripping the edges of the table for support. You’re trying to stay quiet, to keep your moans trapped behind your lips, but it’s so hard when he’s looking at you like that, his eyes dark and intense, drinking in every twitch, every shudder.
He shifts closer, his body now pressed against the edge of the table, his free hand resting lightly on your thigh as if to steady you—or himself. His fingers curl inside you, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur, and you let out a choked whimper, quickly biting your lip to muffle the sound. “Shh,” he breathes, his voice a husky whisper. “We gotta be quiet. Don’t want anyone hearing how good this feels, do we?”
The implication of his words sends a thrill through you, and you shake your head, your chest heaving as you try to control your breathing. His thumb speeds up on your clit, the pressure just right, and you feel the tension building, coiling tight in your core. He’s pushing boundaries, testing how far he can take this, and you’re letting him, caught in the haze of pleasure and the fear of being caught.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “So fucking responsive. You’re dripping all over my hand. You like this, don’t you? Getting off in my office like a dirty little patient?”
His words are filthy, shocking in this sterile setting, and they push you closer to the edge. You nod, unable to speak, your nails digging into the table as you fight to stay silent. His fingers thrust deeper, faster, and his thumb is relentless, driving you higher and higher until you’re teetering on the brink. You’re so close, your body trembling, and he knows it, the smirk on his lips telling you he’s enjoying every second of this.
“Gonna come for me?” he whispers, leaning in slightly, his breath hot against your inner thigh. “Gonna make a mess right here in my office? Be a good girl and let go. I wanna feel it.”
That’s all it takes. The pressure snaps, and your orgasm crashes over you, intense and overwhelming. Your walls clench around his fingers, and a gush of fluid escapes, soaking his hand, the table, even splashing onto the floor. You’re squirting, something you’ve never done before, and the sensation is so powerful that you can’t hold back the soft cry that slips out, quickly muffled by your hand clamping over your mouth.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he groans quietly, his voice thick with lust as he watches the mess you’ve made. “So fucking hot. Look at all this. You’re a goddamn fountain.”
Your body is still trembling, aftershocks rippling through you as he slowly pulls his fingers out, the wet sound of it obscene in the quiet room. You’re panting, your face flushed with embarrassment and lingering pleasure, as you look down at the puddle beneath you. You can’t believe what just happened, can’t believe you lost control like that, but the way he’s looking at you—hungry, predatory—tells you he’s far from done.
“Shit, we’ve made a mess,” he whispers, a dark chuckle in his tone as he strips off his gloves, tossing them into a bin. “But I’m not finished with you yet. Not even close.”
He stands, moving to the side of the table, and you notice the bulge straining against the front of his slacks. The sight makes your mouth water, even as your mind screams that this is wrong, that you should stop, but your body is already craving more. He leans over you, his hand cupping your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His touch is warm, possessive, and his thumb brushes over your lips, a silent question hanging in the air.
You part your lips without thinking, and he slips his thumb inside, pressing down on your tongue. “Suck,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl, and you do, your tongue swirling around the digit as your eyes lock with his. The taste of salt and latex lingers, but it’s the heat in his gaze that has your core clenching again, already aching for more.
“Good girl,” he praises, pulling his thumb out with a quiet pop. “You’re gonna be real quiet for me, aren’t you? Can’t let anyone hear what a slut you are, getting fucked by your doctor.”
The crude words send a shiver through you, and you nod, your voice a shaky whisper. “I’ll be quiet.”
“That’s right,” he says, his hand trailing down your neck, over the thin fabric of the gown, until he’s cupping one of your breasts, thumbing over your hardened nipple through the material. “Because if you’re not, I’ll have to stop. And you don’t want that, do you?”
“No,” you breathe, arching into his touch, desperate for more despite the risk, the insanity of it all.
He smirks, stepping back to undo his belt with a quiet clink, the sound deafening in the stillness of the room. Your eyes are glued to his hands as he unzips his slacks, pushing them down just enough to free himself. His cock springs out, thick and hard, the tip already glistening with pre-cum, and your breath catches at the sight. He’s bigger than you expected, and the thought of him inside you, here, in this office, sends a fresh wave of arousal through you.
“See what you’ve done to me?” he murmurs, stroking himself slowly as he steps closer, positioning himself between your legs again. “You’re gonna take every inch of this, and you’re gonna do it quietly. Understand?”
“Yes,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, your body trembling with anticipation as he lines himself up with your entrance. The tip of him brushes against your folds, slick with your earlier release, and you bite your lip hard to keep from moaning.
He pushes in slowly, stretching you, filling you, and the sensation is almost too much after your recent orgasm. Your walls flutter around him, still sensitive, and he lets out a low, guttural sound, his hands gripping your hips to steady himself. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he breathes, his voice a harsh whisper. “Feels so fucking good. Like you were made for this cock.”
You whimper softly, your hands clutching the edges of the table as he sinks deeper, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated inside you. The fullness is overwhelming, and you feel your body adjusting, accommodating him, as he holds still for a moment, letting you catch your breath. His eyes are on yours, dark and intense, watching every flicker of emotion on your face.
“Shh, don’t make a sound,” he warns, his voice low and rough as he starts to move, slow, shallow thrusts that make your toes curl. “Just take it. Let me fuck you like the dirty girl you are.”
The words, the rhythm of his hips, the risk of someone walking in—it all builds into a dizzying haze of pleasure. His thrusts grow deeper, harder, but still controlled, careful, the table beneath you creaking ever so slightly with each movement. You’re hyper-aware of every sound, every breath, biting down on your lip so hard you taste blood to keep from crying out.
His hand slips between your bodies, finding your clit again, and he rubs it in time with his thrusts, the dual sensation driving you wild. “You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear as he leans over you, his other hand bracing himself on the table. “Gonna soak my cock this time? Make another fucking mess for me?”
The dirty talk pushes you closer, and you nod frantically, your body arching beneath him, chasing that high. His pace quickens just slightly, the sound of skin against skin muffled but unmistakable, and you feel the tension coiling again, tighter, hotter. His fingers on your clit are relentless, and soon you’re right there, teetering on the edge.
“Fuck, do it,” he growls, his voice a harsh whisper. “Come for me. Let me feel that pussy squeeze me.”
Your orgasm hits hard, your vision spotting as your body convulses around him, another gush of fluid escaping, coating his cock, his thighs, the table beneath you. You clamp your hand over your mouth, stifling the moan that threatens to escape, your entire body shaking with the intensity of it. He groans quietly, his thrusts faltering as your walls milk him, and you feel him twitch inside you, his own release close.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he mutters, his voice strained, and with one final thrust, he buries himself deep, spilling inside you, hot and thick. His breathing is ragged, his grip on your hips bruising as he rides out his climax, and you’re both trembling, the aftershocks rippling through you in the oppressive silence of the room.
For a long moment, neither of you moves, the only sound your shared, uneven breaths. Then, slowly, he pulls out, the wet sound of it obscene, and you feel his release drip out of you, adding to the mess on the table. He steps back, tucking himself away and zipping up his slacks with shaking hands, while you lie there, boneless, still catching your breath.
“Shit,” he whispers, a dark chuckle in his tone as he looks at the state of the room, the evidence of what just happened. “We’ve got to clean this up quick. Can’t have anyone walking in on this mess.”
He helps you sit up, his touch gentler now, almost tender, as he grabs a handful of paper towels from the counter, wiping down the table, the floor, even between your thighs with a quiet efficiency. You’re still dazed, your body humming with leftover pleasure, as you adjust your gown, trying to make yourself look presentable again.
“Next time, we’re finding somewhere more private,” he murmurs, his voice low, a smirk playing on his lips as he tosses the used towels into a bin. “Unless you like the thrill of almost getting caught.”
Your cheeks burn at his words, but there’s no denying the thrill still lingering in your veins. You don’t answer, just nod slightly, and he chuckles again, softer this time.
“Alright, you’re all done here,” he says, slipping back into his professional tone, though there’s a lingering heat in his eyes as he looks at you. “Everything checked out fine. I’ll see you at your next appointment... or sooner, if you’d like.”
You stand on shaky legs, smoothing down your gown, and murmur a quiet “Thank you” as you head for the door, your mind reeling from what just happened. As you step into the hall, the distant sounds of the waiting room grounding you back in reality, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll take him up on that unspoken invitation.
Hello i thought it is an easier way to keep things on track for me and you!:D part 3
Hope your weekend is lovely<3 and now some annoucements:
Been taking some time off because i was very sick recently, which got me hooked on Animal Crossing: New Horizons I will go mad before i finally reach 3 stars HOW MANY MORE FLOWERS U NEED ISABELLE
And also moving my stuff from Ellipsus from yucky google so I am a little bit all over the place
TFR — no progress:/
IKC — need to start chapter 2
Number game thingy — that one submission is looking at me and judging me
Bestie!Hyunjin x GN! Reader — a Stayblr request (you should join Stayblr btw) currently writing, but almost done, I want it out around next week so hopefully it is out soon (I just need to send to beta reader and a lovely Stayblr editor~ )
Submissions: 2 Events: 0 Other works: 0
Misc.: been thinking revamping my blog, so if you have any ideas hit me up in asks or DMs or on my discord if you know me over there
Ice King!Bang Chan × Reader
genre: dark fantasy, alternative universe, psycological horror, dark romance, angst warnings: dark themes, captivity, tortue (non-sexual), trauma bonding/stockholm syndrome, coercive control, power imbalance, emotional abuse, identity loss, violence, eventual smut
a/n: chapter 1 is hereeeee I'm super excited for your feedback! I'm so excited to write the decreasing mental stability lmao. If you like it share/like/reblog, see you in the next chapter<3
« prologue ║chapter 1 ║chapter 2 »
The palace felt rigid and cold — maybe it was the ice breaking through the cracks, maybe it was your nerves as you navigated your group along the tall maze-like building. You went over the plan a couple thousand times, yet you heard your heart beat drumming in your ear. Every misstep, whisper could be fatal, you are more than sure that he knows you are in there and yet no guards — no one is coming to get your group.
None of you thought this would be easy, breaking in, killing the one who froze the land, and getting out unscathed, but you all knew it would be now or never, since you, the key, are with them.
You were special, someone who was born before them, someone who saw warmth in their life; the last spring elf born in the weakened sunlight, to one of the most influential families in that time. The palace used to be your playground, you used to spend almost every day here with others of your kind. But that time is long gone now.
You opened the inner gate as the alarm went off, white icy magic flaring up from everywhere your eyes can see. You know what you need to do: run. Run towards the goal that brought you and your friends close, which is to kill Him, and end his regime of winter, and free the land. Their screams echoed in your ear as you ran through the corridor. You just hoped they destroyed the winter crystals that were used to build this palace, and to give birth to him.
As you continued your journey, you felt a presence heavier than frost itself, watching, waiting patiently. Your stomach twisted with the realisation that you weren’t making your way through this forsaken maze, you were running towards him.
You turned, and there he was — unmoving, static and stone cold just like how life has been since he crowned himself a king. The corridor seemed to shrink around him, and every one of your instincts screamed to turn around, find your friends — if they were still alive — and run for your life. Maybe looking for some new place in faraway lands would be the key, starting a new civilization where he could not find you.
He looked at you with a stoic expression, trying to size up the damage you could cause the world with your warmth that no ice storm could extinguish. He finally broke the intense silence “ You are the one they call ‘the change’. The one who survived where it was impossible to bloom.” Chan's voice was low and measured, carrying through the lifeless hall, yet soft enough to be mistaken for care.
As he stepped closer to you, a chill ran across your whole body. Not sure if it was his presence, or the excruciating cold radiating off of him. He was now near enough to see the small ice crystals sparkling on his eyelashes. If you didn’t know how much of a monster he is, you would even call him beautiful. “What did you do to my friends? You killed them, didn’t you?” He didn’t give you an answer which made everything so much worse. You wanted to scream in agony. It is your fault that your friends died in vain, and before you could do anything to hurt him, he raised his hand, and cold air like shackles twisted around your wrists— the pressure and the immediate frostbite across your limb made you wince, but you tried your best not to show it. As he turned to leave, you felt a tug on your wrist so you followed him without uttering a single word. You knew there wasn’t anything you could do, so you didn’t even begin to protest.
He brought you into a big room, where the windows were so small there was barely any light coming in, it had some uncomfortable looking bed, and a toilet (note: do castles have toilets? Nothing fancy, it could’ve been a servant’s quarters back in the day, but you couldn’t care less: the only things on your mind were your friends and if they somehow survived or if they died a horrible death. You tried questioning him again, to no avail. You didn’t get an answer. “This is your room.” you scoffed thinking that Chan should call it what it is: a cell. “If you need anything, let the guards know.” And with that he left you there with your spiraling thoughts. Thinking about your companions, mourning them. And a way to escape, and a way to kill him. You had to follow through the plan, so you and everyone you love can be free from this frozen Hell. Spring will come again, you are sure of it, so your friends and family, and your whole race didn’t die in vain, you must do it for their sake.
Although escape seemed highly impossible, if you could muster up some of your magic, you might be able to thaw the ice on the walls so that you could climb up to the windows and squeeze yourself out of the narrow hole. You walked up to the grim stone wall and tried your best to think of your happiest memories: playing in the golden fields, your mother singing you a lullaby, the family that took you in without any second thought, your friends… your comrades whose bodies might be lying on the palace floors somewhere, cold, lifeless. You broke down crying. You are such a failure. You should’ve kept them safe, yet you live and they are in another place now. You sobbed, feeling your heart breaking. You are held hostage by a man you hate with all your being without any of your loved ones. All alone, consumed by rage.
Okay so there are some prompts I have been wanting to write but didn’t know which member, nor how exactly I want to write it, and there was a time when people asked for numbers and members so I am bringing it back on my blog! I will write down the numbers here and some possible content warning/variations, and you can ask for a number and a member (one can be asked multiple times if there’s demand I can make NSFW versions too) and this will also work as a master list so you can see the ones which are done! Feel free to ask if something isn’t clear I should be sleeping and ofc it is only Stray Kids
1) sfw only
2) could be sfw or nsfw
3) just nsfw
4) sfw or nsfw
5) could be both
6) could be both
7) could be both
8) could be both
9) could be both
10) nsfw only
11) sfw only
12) sfw only
!!Important: ageless blogs or not over 18 will be only allowed to ask for sfw, if you don’t have an indication of your age you will be banned from joining any of my events/ blocked!!
Ice King!Bang Chan × Reader
genre: dark fantasy, alternative universe, psycological horror, dark romance, angst warnings: dark themes, captivity, tortue (non-sexual), trauma bonding/stockholm syndrome, coercive control, power imbalance, emotional abuse, identity loss, violence, eventual smut
a/n: wooo the prolouge is here!! tried to be omnious enough, and kept repeating the beginning of the first LOTR movie. Also I might start to only type TIKC since i alr feel like that is a hassle:D anyways hope you like it!
« series masterlist ║prologue ║chapter 1 »
Winter used to come and go around here; only a season, just to make sure the world turns as it should, and everything was good. It gave rest to the soil, time to eat all the crops of that year, time to be grateful for what people had. Got them work twice as hard, for twice the goods, so they can share with the less fortunate ones.
And once it passed the kingdom became lively again, magic flowing through the city, birds chirping, people celebrating.
But as the seasons change, so do people and so do the balance of the world. None could’ve predicted what happens if a high elf decides to touch black magic for more power, except Him. He, who was there to make sure the black magic that once plagued the world does not get unleashed again. His master made sure he knows what is his purpose in his existence before she passed onto the Edge of all end.
As life was dying out no one from your family expected to have you come to life, the last spring elf, something that should’ve been long gone, yet you are here.
And he knows it too— not your name, or how you look, but he can feel your faint warmth, and the threat you can become.
The Ice King Chronicles: Where The Warmth Goes to Die masterlist
Ice King!Bang Chan × Reader
genre: dark fantasy, alternative universe, psycological horror, dark romance, angst
warnings: dark themes, captivity, tortue (non-sexual), trauma bonding/stockholm syndrome, coercive control, power imbalance, emotional abuse, identity loss, violence, eventual smut
a/n: I feel like I must address this will be heavy, feel free to skip over if anything triggers you
main masterlist ║ taglist
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ Where Warmth Survived
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ Key Enters the Ice
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ A King Who Does Not Thaw
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ The Quiet Between the Frost
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ The Shape of Stillness
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ What the Cold Keeps
