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onlymingyus · 6 months

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Bound to You (fall-ing for you collab)

pairing; yoon jeonghan x f!reader

genre; smut (minors dni), angst, supernatural au, soulmate au

warnings; warlock!jeonghan, wonwoo side character/family member, mentions of magic, curses, death/murder, auras, soulmates, death of parents, complicated family dynamics, borrowed story point from Goblin, protected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), cum eating, orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, very light bondage in the form of binding hands/tying to the bed, marking/biting, pet names, aftercare

w/c; 12.9k and some change

svthub fall-ing for you collab masterlist

a/n; thank you to @wonwussy and @wooahaeproductions for beta/proofreading -- if you have been following me for a while you might notice this fic is in the same universe as Lavender Tea and Honey. I hope you enjoy this.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

Jeonghan’s slender fingers run over the pages of the book in front of him as he lifts the cup to his lips. The warm vanilla latte runs down the back of his throat before he settles the cup onto the table, getting lost in his own world once again.

Two weeks and three days—that was how long Jeonghan had been in this new town. He didn’t hate it but it was different than where he had lived before. He didn’t mind being around his extended family. He was enjoying the benefits of their cafe and the quiet ambiance that came along with the little corner he had stuck himself into but there were reasons he had ended up here.

Say one thing wrong when you are what Jeonghan and his family are and know the wrong people, you might end up cursed or dead. It wasn’t entirely Jeonghan’s fault that he had the attitude or the mouth that he had. No, those were passed down to him by his parents as parting gifts.

Maybe this would be better in the long run… Jeonghan thought to himself as he traced a small doodle he had scribbled in the margins of his book a few years ago. A fresh start never hurts anyone. A little peace and quiet never hurts anyone.

“Hi Wonwoo. Can I get —”

“A chai tea latte?”

Your laugh is soft and like bells, drawing Jeonghan’s attention up towards the counter. He hadn’t paid much attention to his cousin's work or anyone else ordering but for some reason now he couldn’t look away. Jeonghan watched as you tilted your head at the tall, dark headed barista. It wasn’t like you were flirting with the man; instead, it was clear you were friends.

“Yeah, please. Am I that predictable?”

Wonwoo grins, turning from you to start making your order. His hands are precise with years of training and muscle memory. You came in almost every day and almost every day you got the same drink. So yeah, you were predictable.

“You want the truth or do you want me to just make your latte?”

Jeonghan watches, not realizing a smile had caused his lips to lift at either side. You were effortlessly beautiful. The type of beautiful that someone doesn’t even realize how beautiful they are until someone explains it to them.

“Mm, my latte. If I want the truth, I’ll visit my family.”

Sliding the exact change across the wooden counter, you smile at Wonwoo once more before turning to lean against it. The barista laughs as the sound of milk steaming causes you to feel warm from your head to your toes. You loved this cafe. Not just for the drinks but for every part of it—the employees, the other patrons, the sounds, the smells, and the familiarity.

Hearing Wonwoo’s gentle, deep sigh, you turn back towards him, taking the cup from his hands. With a soft thank you, you turn towards your usual table to find the usual familiarity of your favorite cafe is broken. A man with dark hair and eyes watches you from your usual corner, a slight smile on his lips that makes the pit of your stomach feel deeper.

The feeling is a confusing one. It wasn’t a feeling of dread. Not even a feeling of fear. Instead, this was a feeling somewhere between anxiety and desire. Smiling back at him, you quickly lower your gaze, deciding to pick a table close to where you usually sit out of the desire to be close to your favorite spot and this unfamiliar man.

When you smile at him Jeonghan feels his breath get caught in his throat. He was no stranger to women. He knew he was attractive and charming so the fact that you caused such a reaction from him with just a simple smile and your mere existence was baffling. Taking in a deep breath, Jeonghan watches you walk closer towards a table next to him to take a seat. The calming scent of your chai tea latte wafting to his nose causes him to let out a soft sigh as he lowers his eyes to his table in an attempt to not make you feel uncomfortable.

The overwhelming desire to look up at you, watch you, or perhaps speak to you was causing Jeonghan’s stomach to twist into a knot. Licking his lips, Jeonghan closed his eyes, his fingers shakily spreading across the wooden table in front of him as he tried to bite back on his whims when your voice shocked him out of his trace.

“Your latte smells delicious. I’m always so tempted to try something new, especially something vanilla, but I’m a creature of habit, I suppose.”

Smiling into an amused scoff, Jeonghan is ready to answer you before he meets your eyes but that is when any intelligent thought he once had fades into nothingness. He hadn’t noticed it before. Perhaps you were too far away? Perhaps it had been because you hadn’t spoken to him yet but a ribbon like maroon aura was spirling around your left arm and hand.

“I–what?”

Furrowing your brows, you wonder if you had read the room entirely wrong when the man speaks to you. He had seemed so confident not a moment before and now he seemed awkward and confused. Swallowing hard, your eyes downward at your own cup, you run your left index finger around the rim of the cup, not having the courage to look back over at him just yet.

“Just…was talking about your drink. Making conversation. I’m sorry if you wanted to just be alone. You were looking at me; I thought it would be okay to talk to you.”

Jeonghan shook his head at your words. He didn’t want you to be sorry. The knot in his stomach was so tight, he felt like he could fold in half if he didn’t figure this out. He had seen auras before but they were rare.

Usually, if witches or warlocks were going to do something unthinkable, they would give off an aura of danger to those who could see them. Humans could give off auras if they were considering ending their lives or if they were bringing new life into the world. Jeonghan had only seen a handful of auras in witches, warlocks, or humans in his entire life, and they had never been focused around someone’s hand like yours was.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to leave me alone. You just–-it’s really impossible to explain. You were talking about my drink. I get the same one every time too. I’m so used to the taste; it's familiar. What is your name?”

Smiling a bit to yourself as the man rambles, you take a sip of your drink, letting out a pleased sound to the taste before licking your lips of the sweet foam. You're startled by how handsome the man truly is when you finally lift your head to see his eyes.

“I’m–my name?” You had one—a name. At least you had one up until the moment before you looked up into the man’s eyes. Now you weren’t sure if you remembered how to breathe, much less speak or think straight.

Jeonghan smiles, feeling himself becoming more enamored with you as you look confused and as scattered as he had felt just a moment ago. Did you feel it too? The sudden, odd connection? Biting at his bottom lip, Jeonghan slides his chair closer to your table, turning it towards you as his fingers delicately trail along the handle of his cup.

Your eyes are drawn to his fingers; your pretty eyes are almost entranced by the movement as you take a steady breath, seeming to come back to reality. “Y/N. I’m Y/N.”

You hadn’t asked for his name but Jeonghan didn’t mind. You were looking at him like he was the first and last thing you wanted to see on any given day and he knew the feeling. Taking his own deep breath, Jeonghan glances back down at your fingers and the maroon ribbon of magic swirling around them.

“I’m Jeonghan. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Your name on Jeonghan’s lips was better than any music you had heard in a long time. It was reverberating in your ears, causing goosebumps to erupt along your skin. He was so handsome that you were having a hard time keeping your thoughts organized. Everything seemed jumbled, speeding towards him, and at the same time, everything was in slow motion around you.

“I–” You laugh softly, shyly looking down, before you force yourself to look back at Jeonghan once again and into his pretty dark eyes. “It’s nice to meet you too. I come here all the time, and I feel like I would have seen you here before. Are you new to town?”

Meeting your eyes, Jeonghan can’t help the way his smile exposes his enthusiasm. He wanted to play it cool and be some attractive man you had met in the coffee shop that you would pine after for weeks. Instead, he couldn’t help feeling like some schoolboy with a crush as his stomach tightened when you smiled back at him.

Leaning his arm on the table, Jeonghan bites at his bottom lip, drawing your attention towards it briefly before he laughs almost as if he’s trying to consider his next words carefully. His eyes move past you towards the counter where Wonwoo was talking to a customer before he furrows his brows and shakes his head.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve visited before. Many times, actually. My family…extended family owns this shop. Wonwoo is my cousin; it seems like you know him pretty well. I just recently moved here, though. I’ve been spending a little more time here in the shop, at least for the past week or so.”

That made more sense to you as you nodded along, staying quiet. Your eyes move to Wonwoo, who seems to notice, giving you a friendly smile, only to glance towards Jeonghan with a curious look in his eye. There was a bit of caution laced in his gaze but he didn’t seem to linger, instead going back to his tasks.

“I see, I was out of town a couple days. I normally come in almost every day to get my drink so I probably would have seen you sooner.”

You smile again, making Jeonghan swallow hard. There was no way that if you had stepped into this cafe before today, he would have missed you. There could be 100 people surrounding him now and he would find you again.

Looking down at his own drink, Jeonghan lets out a soft, breathy laugh as you seem to study him, waiting for what he will say next with baited breath. You had never cared that much about anything anyone would say. It wasn’t like you needed a partner. It wasn’t like you came to this cafe or any cafe for that matter, looking for someone to be with. Especially not someone that you needed to speak to you so that you could breathe, but that is how it felt after just fifteen minutes of sitting at a table near Jeonghan.

“I wish you could have come in sooner... Fuck, I can’t explain what I’m about to say. I–I swear, I’m not a creep.”

Almost afraid to meet your eyes, Jeonghan laughs, only to fall silent when you shake your head, letting out your own soft laugh.

“For some reason, and I really can’t explain why I’m even saying this but I think no matter what you are about to tell me...I think I’ll understand. I sound like a crazy person.”

Jeonghan shakes his head this time, lifting his eyes to yours to meet them with a persistent look, trying to shake away that feeling from you. You weren’t crazy. He knew crazy; he had met crazy, and that wasn’t you. Crazy couldn’t hide from him.

"No, you don’t. Not to me. I was going to say I’d like to get to know you better. Could I get your number? I’d like to take you out.”

Normally, you could hide your enthusiasm about situations. In this sort of situation, your friends would tell you to play it cool and play hard to get. Yet here you were smiling at this handsome man you had just met, like he had asked you to marry him when all he had asked for was your number and the chance to see you again.

Jeonghan watches you rub your lips together, your pretty smile only dimming slightly with effort before you nod. His eyes follow your hands, the maroon ribbon swirling like water around your fingers as you slide your phone from your purse and look at him expectantly.

“Only if I can have yours too.”

With numbers exchanged, conversation came easy until drinks were finished and your cheeks hurt from smiling. You had learned more about Jeonghan, yet you still knew nothing. He was still just as much a mystery as he had been when you spotted him at your table but the spiral of nerves and fluttering of butterflies in your stomach begged you for more.

Keeping his eyes on you as if you were vanishing into thin air, Jeonghan couldn’t help the way his brows knitted together as he watched you return your cup to the counter. His chest felt tight and heavy listening to your voice as you said your goodbyes to Wonwoo, promising to be back tomorrow. Even though Jeonghan knew he had a way to contact you and the promise of plans with you, it was hard to bear the idea of the meeting ending already.

Turning back to the tables, you stop when you find Jeonghan standing, a similar tightness in your chest, realizing what was happening. Smiling in an attempt to shake off the feeling, you sigh when he moves to meet you halfway, mimicking your sigh.

“Thank you for letting me sit in your spot, Y/N.”

Jeonghan smiles as you laugh, walking towards the door beside him. His hand reaching it first so he can push it open for you, the chilly fall air hitting both of you, causing you to shiver and wrap your sweater around yourself a bit tighter.

“Mm, you’re welcome. You can join me anytime you’d like. The company wasn’t half bad.”

Biting at your lip, you wrinkle your nose at your attempt at flirting. Your eyes fixed on the sidewalk, as neither of you can bear to make the first move to part from one another just yet. Jeonghan just laughs into a small sigh watching you, his eyes moving over your beautiful face even as you look down from him. He wanted so badly to reach out to tilt your chin up to him so you’d look at him but he finds himself tightening his fist instead to push away the instinct.

“No? I hope I can keep being “not half bad company” then. Uh, how ‘bout tomorrow? Do you have any plans? Or is that too soon?”

Finally lifting your head, you smile at Jeonghan like you had before and he feels his heart ache. If he didn’t know any better, he’d call the feeling love.

“Yeah? I mean, no. I–let me try this again. I would love to see you tomorrow. I do not have any plans, so I would love to spend time with you.”

Heat creeps along your cheeks as you stumble through your words, Jeonghan’s lips pulling up into a smirk and then a full smile. Stepping closer, he laughs and shakes his head, keeping his eyes on yours. In his mind, you were impossibly perfect. Every stumble of your words was you stumbling right into his life and he was ready to catch you.

“Then it’s a date. Do you want to meet here tomorrow afternoon? Around 4?”

Nodding, you take in a breath, finding your knees feel weak with Jeonghan so close to you, even though you are grateful he is blocking the wind. You were happy not to feel as much of the cold air on your face but the overwhelming scent of vanilla was clouding your thoughts and making your mouth water.

“Mmhm, I’ll be here. I can’t wait.”

Taking in his own deep breath, Jeonghan nods along with you, Chai invading his senses and making his head swim with desire for you. How hadn’t he noticed before that you even smelled like chai tea? It was delicious and almost overwhelming.

“I–me either. I should…get going. It’s getting cold. You are going to get too cold standing out here because of me. I’ll see you tomorrow, beautiful.”

Swallowing hard Jeonghan speaks before he thinks, his lips and brain not seemingly connected as the scent of you clouds his judgment. Taking a step back, Jeonghan takes in a breath of fresh, crisp air before smiling at you and lowering his head as you watch him bewildered as he walks away, leaving you with your thoughts and how he had called you beautiful.

Out of nerves, you had gotten to the cafe early. It was even colder so despite wanting to wait for Jeonghan outside, you had to give up on that idea and wait inside, where Wonwoo had quickly put a togo cup in your hands to warm them up.

“Oh…I–thanks, Wonwoo. I didn’t even tell you I wasn’t staying today.”

Shaking his head, the barista pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he moved around the counter with a damp cloth in his hand. You smiled at him, watching him clean off a table as you listened to him talk, your eyes moving to the door every time the bell would ring.

“You are meeting my cousin. He’s pretty prompt, so you have a few minutes. Hang out and get warm before you leave again. I was kinda hoping to talk to you before you met him again.”

Your smile faded slightly with Wonwoo’s wording, causing you to clear your throat before you brought your drink to your lips and took a sip. Was this one of those be careful and don’t hurt my family kind of talks? You weren’t sure why this was making you so nervous. You liked Wonwoo and he had never made you uncomfortable before, but now you were afraid to disappoint him.

“Mm, okay? Am I in trouble?”

Wonwoo’s laugh sends a wave of relief over you but it’s brief and fleeting as he sighs, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

“Course not. It’s nothing like that. It’s just... You’re my friend and I just wanted to... Damn, no matter how I say this, it sounds bad so I’ll just say it.” Nodding mostly to himself and gaining the courage to keep speaking, Wonwoo gestures with his cloth before continuing. “Jeonghan is a great guy. He’s my family and I love him but he’s had a rough past. He’s had a hard life at times and I just want you to remember that going into whatever this is you two are doing.”

Watching from outside through the window, Jeonghan rubs his fingers together inside the pocket of his jacket as you talk to Wonwoo. The conversation seemed casual enough but something Wonwoo said caused your brows to furrow in a way that made Jeonghan’s stomach tighten.

Wonwoo rubs his lips together, looks over your face and sees how your brows are knitting together as if you were trying to piece together a puzzle right in front of you. He wasn’t trying to scare you away from Jeonghan. He didn’t want his cousin to not find someone to be with; he just wanted you both to be careful and he could see something was moving quickly between the two of you that neither of you understood.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, if I upset you. That is not my intention. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, and I’m certainly not saying not to see Jeonghan…”

“I’d hope you wouldn’t be saying that, Wonwoo.”

Jeonghan’s voice seems to break through the tension, pulling you away from Wonwoo, who sighs at meeting his cousin’s gaze. You had almost expected him to be angry at Wonwoo but instead you find him smiling as if it were expected and part of a joke. Wonwoo shakes his head, glancing down at the table in front of him and picking up a tea cup, then turning back towards both of you.

“I’m not. I’m just talking to my friend. You want a drink to go?”

Not waiting for his answer, Wonwoo walks behind the counter, leaving you with Jeonghan, who laughs under his breath, rolling his eyes out of slight annoyance.

“Yeah, please.”

The sounds of Wonwoo working on Jeonghan’s drink become background music as you swallow hard, finally looking up at your date to find him watching you curiously. His dark eyes move over your face almost as if he were checking you for sighs of pain or injury, though there was clearly no need before he finally smiles, causing you to do the same.

“Hey, I feel like I’m late.”

Laughing, you feel warmth rush over your cheeks at Jeonghan’s words. You start to explain yourself when Wonwoo says his name and Jeonghan sighs out "just a second,” leaving you to watch him move to the counter. His hushed voice and Wonwoo’s are enough to tell you that you should mind your own business but you find yourself trying to turn your ear in to hear them better, only being able to catch a word here and there.

“Just–she’s not like you. She’s not like us. Be careful with her.”

“I’m not an idiot. Thank you for your concern.”

When Jeonghan turns back towards you, you put your drink to your lips in an attempt to look as if you hadn’t been trying to eavesdrop on his and Wonwoo’s conversation. Your eyes move from his face to Wonwoo at the counter as the barista shakes his head, muttering something to himself and Jeonghan finally makes his way to you with a long sigh.

“Ready to go? It’s pretty cold, and the wind is making it even colder. Here…”

Nodding, you start to speak when Jeonghan offers you his drink, making you tilt your head like a confused puppy. It’s only when you take it that you realize why he offered it to you to hold. His hands move to the jacket zipper, pulling it upwards before he fiddles with your scarf, making sure it is against your neck, keeping you warm and protected against the cold air.

“Oh…I–thanks.”

Jeonghan smiles at your softly spoken words, his fingers slipping over yours briefly to take his drink back. Your eyes follow him to the door, where he holds it open for you, gesturing his head towards it and taking in a deep breath of the crisp, fall air.

“No problem, can’t have my date catching a cold. Wonwoo might kill me.”

You can tell it’s a joke while also taking a stab at his conversation with Wonwoo but even as you move out onto the sidewalk with Jeonghan, you can’t help but feel bad about the conversation you had shared with his cousin. Chewing on your cheek, you walk beside him for a moment before finally letting out a breath and a whined sound as you speak.

“I’m sorry… You know if that was my fault? I don’t want you to fight with your family because of me. I know I’m friends with Wonwoo so if that’s too weird and it means you can’t see me or something, I totally get it.”

Jeonghan’s eyes widen slightly at the whine in your voice, his lips pulling up in a smile as you start to ramble out your apology as well as his “out”. Shaking his head, the man laughs, glancing over at you and lifting his brow curiously.

“If you think I’m going to let Jeon Wonwoo get in the way of something or someone I want...Y/N, you need to get to know me. Yeah, he’s family, but that’s it. I value family, sure, but blood is just blood. It doesn’t mean everything.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as Jeonghan watches you, his eyes falling to your lips before they move back to your eyes. He laughs again into another sigh as the two of you turn towards the entrance of the park. Soon, it is just the soft sounds of traffic, quiet, distant conversations, and the crunching of leaves that fill your ears as you walk.

“Was that too much? The family thing?”

Shaking your head at Jeonghan’s question, you lift your head to look at him, finding his brows softened. You hadn’t realized the two of you had been walking in silence for a few moments; you had just been lost in thought.

“No, not at all. Family is complicated. People are complicated. If we weren't, we’d be made of plastic or something.”

Jeonghan can’t help but scoff in disbelief at how easily you seem to understand him. Nodding, he furrows his brows before leaning his head back towards the sky as he walks beside you. The sky was gray, but the maple trees in the park looked like they were on fire, all red, yellow, and orange. With each new burst of cold wind, more leaves shook loose from their branches, making their way to the earth, reminding Jeonghan of how easy it was to fall.

You watched Jeonghan for a moment before looking up at the sky yourself. The trees made you smile as the leaves drifted to the ground around you and the man beside you. It was beautiful because, where he saw falling, you saw possibility.

“The leaves are so pretty, don’t you think? You know, I was told once that maple leaves are special.”

His eyes falling back to you, Jeonghan stops walking with you. He watches you standing with your eyes towards the sky, your hand out in front of you, a smile on your face as the chilly air brushes by you both.

“Yeah? Whys that?

Your smile seems to get bigger at his question and Jeonghan feels that feeling of his heart aching—that sensation of falling in love. You laugh, and your words are spoken with that same laughter, as if you are trying to believe them as much as you are trying to get him to believe them.

“I was told if you catch a falling maple leaf, you will fall in love with the person you are walking with.”

Jeonghan smiles at your words, his eyes moving to the falling maple leaves as he reaches out to catch one.

“Yeah? What if you have already fallen in love with someone and you catch a maple leaf?”

You shake your head. Another laugh is on your lips when you look at Jeonghan as he catches a maple leaf walking towards you. Falling silent, you press your lips together, feeling your cheeks heat up even as the cold air nips at them like kisses.

“Well? Do you know the answer to that one?”

Watching your lips pull up into a smile, Jeonghan offers you the maple leaf as he leans down to brush his lips against yours like a question. Even with his face so close to yours, he meets your eyes as your fingers brush against his, taking the leaf from his fingers before you answer his question by pressing your lips to his.

The kiss is warm and safe. Nothing feels rushed and yet you feel like if you don’t keep kissing him, you might cry. Jeonghan smiles against your lips when you whine softly, feeling him pull away from you. His thumb rubbing the back of your hand as he leans back to look at you and your wide eyes.

“I–don’t know the answer to your question.”

Jeonghan laughs, his hand dropping from yours to lift to your face when you notice something that startles you. Your shocked gasp as you lean back from Jeonghan causes him to look at you, concerned that he has hurt you.

“What’s on your hand?”

Shaking his head, Jeonghan looks around for other people, pleased to see the two of you alone when you take his hand and study it. He watches as you run your finger along his left hand, tracing something he couldn’t see but somehow, because of what he had seen with you and what he knew, he had an idea.

“Tell me what you see, Y/N. I don’t see anything; that doesn’t mean it’s not there. Trust me, okay?”

Your hands were shaking. Jeonghan knew then that Wonwoo was right; you weren’t like them. Not completely anyway. He had wondered if you had a little magic in you, so in a way, they were both right.

“It’s impossible. I’m going crazy. It’s like...gold ribbons? Gold ribbons around your wrist, your hand, and your ring finger? Jeonghan…I swear I don't—I'm not insane.”

Sliding his fingers through yours, Jeonghan shakes his head once more, leading you towards a nearby bench to sit down. Taking the maple leaf from you, he puts it into a small book before putting it back into his pocket and turning to take both of your hands, meeting your eyes.

“I know you aren’t crazy. I’d never call you insane. I don’t like that word. It’s used far too often for people who can do things that others can’t, for people who can see things others can’t.” Sighing into his next words, Jeonghan smiles at you. “I can explain this to you but it would take time. I would need more time than I have in this park and honestly, what you saw... I'm not even sure what it means.”

You knew logically that you should be scared of what he was saying about what you had seen, but then there was something about you that made you know there was nothing to be scared of. There was something inside of you telling you that he was telling you the truth and that you could trust him. Taking his hand back into yours, you watch the gold ribbon shimmer along his skin as Jeonghan watches the maroon ribbons on your left hand.

“I want to understand it.”

Nodding, Jeonghan reaches up with his free hand to brush his fingers over your cheek. His thumb resting on your cheekbone, the man sighs, hoping he isn’t overwhelming you, feeling like he can’t lose you just as much as he doesn’t want to lose you already.

“Then I’ll explain it to you. We have time. I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

Jeonghan’s words were comforting, just as comforting as watching the gold ribbon move around his hand. Smiling, you nod, finally looking up from his hand to meet his eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you see more leaves fall and you can’t help but think about how they seem to fall slowly at first when they first leave the branch and then all at once the closer they get to the ground. That was how you felt about Jeonghan, even in a short amount of time.

Daylight was shorter so by the time Jeonghan walked you back to your apartment building, it was dark. Your fingers were laced with his, the taste of chai in your mouth, though you were beginning to wonder if it was still lingering from the tea you had had earlier or if it was something else Jeonghan needed to explain to you.

Jeonghan’s eyes moved over the door that seemed to want to take you from him and his fingers tightened to keep you with him for even just a moment longer. He knew it was selfish but he didn’t care anymore. He had already had so much taken from him in his life and now you had been placed in front of him like a gift. Why couldn’t he hold on a little tighter for as long as he could, even if it seemed too quick?

“I’m beginning to think we should have met at the beginning of the day.”

Your pretty laughter makes Jeonghan’s heart beat faster as you let go of his hand in place of wrapping your arms around him as if you had known him for years. Taking in a breath as he leans to rest his face against your hair, Jeonghan closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around you in return, feeling that urge to hold on tighter once again.

“Next time, we will meet at the crack of dawn. I can learn about your entire life.”

Jeonghan smiles against your hair before shaking his head. He would tell you anything, even things he didn’t want to but he wanted to know about you. He wanted to be part of your life and your family. He wanted to keep his family here but now there was you. There were those ribbons.

“Mmm, I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know, Angel.”

You smile, moving to nuzzle your nose against Jeonghan’s neck, when he calls you Angel. You hadn’t expected him to call you something like that. First, it had been beautiful and now, Angel? He really knew how to sweet talk you.

Feeling the warmth of your cheek against your skin, Jeonghan laughs, leaning back to look down at you. His fingers press into your jacket, wishing he could get closer to you, touch your skin, and be skin against your skin.

“What? You like that? Angel?”

Jeonghan watches you nod shyly, causing him to laugh. You were perfect and you were his; at least that was how he felt. At least that was what he wanted. Swallowing hard, Jeonghan couldn’t fight his urge to kiss you again. He had to do it at least once more before he left.

When Jeonghan’s lips meet yours this time, you can’t help the soft moan that slips from between yours. Between how warm the kiss felt and the gentle brush of his tongue against your upper lip, you find your knees going weak, needing his arms to keep you upright.

Furrowing his brow at your reaction, Jeonghan tightens his grip on you, deepening his kiss. He becomes braver, daring to let his tongue explore your mouth. His tongue glides along yours, causing goosebumps to erupt along his skin when the taste of vanilla spreads along his taste buds. You were unlike anyone he had ever been with in his entire life.

It is almost painful when Jeonghan forces himself to kiss you one last time, knowing he's saying goodnight. One last chaste kiss that lingers before he pulls away, watching your smile fade even slightly as he does. Jeonghan smiles still, brushing his nose against yours as you speak softly.

“Would it be weird to tell you that you taste like chai?”

Laughing Jeonghan shakes his head, leaning to rest his forehead against yours as your fingers slide into his jacket to get as close to his skin as possible through the layers of his shirts.

“No, I was going to tell you that you taste like vanilla.” Sighing, Jeonghan then lets out a groan almost in pain when he leans back to stand up straight. “I guess I should say goodnight. Your cheeks and nose are getting really cold standing out here.”

You laugh, furrowing your brows, learning that you taste like vanilla, only to frown when Jeonghan says he should say goodnight. You knew that he was right. You were cold; you were starting to shiver but you wanted to say you didn’t mind. You wanted to say, “Come upstairs?" and so you did.

Jeonghan swallows hard at your request. He knew he should be the gentleman and say no. He should politely decline and come back another day. He shouldn’t go upstairs until the two of you know each other much better than you do now but looking at you now, Jeonghan can only nod.

Two flights of stairs and a few seconds of fumbling with your keys out of nerves later, you stood in your living room with Jeonghan. Jackets and shoes discarded, you watched as he looked around at your life. A smile was on his handsome face as he moved to look at pictures of you with your friends and family. Hushed comments about how beautiful you are and how you looked like you had so much fun and were so loved.

“Yeah…I’m pretty lucky, I guess. I’ve been here my entire life so I’ve always had them. I wanna know about you, though…You said you’d tell me if I asked. You said you could explain this?”

Moving back to Jeonghan, you lift his left hand, showing it to him. Though he couldn’t see the golden ribbons, they still spiraled around his hand, just like the maroon ones moved around yours. Jeonghan’s fingers flex before he sighs, furrowing his brows, leading you towards your couch to sit down.

“Not going to run away from me or kick me out?” Laughing, he watches you shake your head no, a sweet smile on your curious face even though the nerves were eating him from the inside out.

“Uh, ok, well, here goes. I–”

Holding up his finger, Jeonghan leans from you to reach into his jacket, lying on the nearby armchair, to take out the book he had stored your leaf in. You watch as he opens it, offering you the leaf once again before placing the book on his leg.

“If my mother was still alive and she knew I was showing this to someone who wasn’t a witc–well, someone who wasn’t fully… Fuck how do I even say this?”

Turning the leaf in your fingers, you furrow your brows, hearing that Jeonghan’s mother isn’t alive, only for them to deepen when he struggles to find his words. Shaking your head, you lean to put the leaf on the table, moving to slide your legs under you so you can turn towards him, resting your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating hard and quick in his chest.

“You do it at your pace and truthfully? I swear to you, I’m not going to run away from you or be afraid. Jeonghan, your hand is glowing gold, so if you are about to tell me magic is real, I think you are a little late. I think you are a wizard, Harry.”

Jeonghan stares at you for a moment before starting to laugh. You watch, amused but also concerned, until he finally calms down and shakes his head.

“Did–did you just quote Harry Potter to me?”

You nod, and Jeonghan scoffs lightly, leaning to kiss you softly, shaking his head as he leans back, feeling his chest lighten as his heartbeat slows and the panic subsides slightly.

“I don’t know how the fuck I got lucky enough to meet you. I certainly don’t deserve you.” You start to speak and Jeonghan shakes his head, lifting his hand to stop you. “I–please, it’s how I feel. I can explain it.”

You didn’t agree with him. There was nothing he could do or could have done to make you agree with him. Furrowing your brows, you want to comfort him but you aren’t sure how so instead, you press your fingers against his chest and just listen.

“Yeah, magic is real. It’s not what they have in Harry Potter. Most of that is bullshit. But I’m a warlock; I was born that way. Anyone with magic is born that way. I think you were born that way too.”

Leaning your head back, you scoff, causing Jeonghan to lift his left hand, letting you see the gold spirling around his hand. Your brows soften and Jeonghan knows his point was taken, allowing him to continue.

“Perhaps not to the degree of some witches but everyone has a little magic in them. All humans, just a little bit. Deja vu is magic…but you there is a little more—fuck, maybe a lot more. We can figure that out together, okay?”

You just nod, feeling your heart quicken at the idea of having some magical potential. You had always wanted to believe in magic. That was something that any little girl or boy would want to believe in but you had never truly let go of it and now it was staring you in the face.

“This…” Jeonghan gestures to the book on his lap, “is my grimoire. I’ll let you look through it later. It’s really personal to each warlock and witch. We can start you one, if you want, once we figure out what’s going on with you.”

Jeonghan glances at you once again, watching you press your lips together. He knew it was a lot of information, even if it was just basic things. He didn’t want to overwhelm you but you had asked. Flipping a couple of pages, Jeonghan sighs and taps the page, causing you to gasp lightly as some words shimmer and then fade back to normal ink.

“Some warlocks or witches have little things about them. My mom could transfigure into her familiar form. My dad could perfect any potion that he tried on the first try. I–I can see auras.”

Glancing down at your hand, Jeonghan slides his fingers over your hand, tracing the ribbons as you watch him.

“Auras? Like, you know when someone is good or bad?”

Tilting his head back and forth, Jeonghan purses his lips, trying to think of how to describe it before he looks up at you.

“It’s more than that and it’s rare. I can’t always see them and they aren’t always that simple. I saw an aura in a warlock who visited my house when I was little. It was dark green and it scared me. I didn’t know what it meant.”

You watch as Jeonghan looks down at his grimoire, your eyes scanning over the Latin that you don’t understand as his voice shakes slightly.

“I should have asked my parents because I had to find out later that dark green auras mean not only greed but to the point of ill intent. That warlock cursed my parents and a few weeks later they were both gone.”

Feeling your heart tighten with Jeonghan’s grief, you look up at his face as a soft "oh" slips from your lips. You aren’t sure what to say and Jeonghan understands by just shaking his head and whispering that it’s okay.

“When I said that I don’t deserve you, Y/N…I mean that because there is a reason that Wonwoo was telling you to be careful around me. There is a reason I moved here. I saw my own aura.”

Sliding your hand over Jeonghan’s left, you tighten your grip on his and he feels the warmth spread through his arm, though he doesn’t have the courage to look at you, feeling like if he tells you the truth, he will lose you.

“I searched for that warlock until I found him and followed him for months last year. I had decided that I would do it indirectly. That’s worse, you know? Cursing someone else to kill someone.” Jeonghan swallows hard, nodding to his own words, feeling your eyes on him even if you don’t speak.

“My aura was black in the mirror. Pitch black, and I knew that was death and it should have scared me from doing it but I did it anyway.”

Lifting your hand from his, you turn Jeonghan’s face towards you, tears running down his cheeks. You watch him close his eyes in an attempt to hide his shame, even as you push away his tears with your thumb.

“Jeonghan…Did you come here to start over?”

Nodding, Jeonghan keeps his eyes closed, leaning into your palm. The brush of your fingers like the rungs of a ladder helped him climb out of the darkness of the hole that he had been in for far too long.

“Then start over. I don’t care about what you did. I care about your past but not that. Open your eyes and look at me.”

Slowly opening his eyes, Jeonghan meets yours, almost afraid that you will be angry with him despite your words but instead he finds you looking at him lovingly. A sigh of relief escapes between his lips and Jeonghan turns his head to press his lips to your palm, whispering, “Thank you.”

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, the story of Jeonghan’s past lingering like a breath before the weight is gone and Jeonghan can smile seeing the ribbons on your hand once again.

“You have an aura on your hand. I think that’s what you are seeing too, on mine.”

It is your turn to tilt your head as Jeonghan turns to sit towards you, offering you his hands and trying to explain the ribbons. The words on his lips seem to fall short when you gasp while watching the gold of his finger extend towards your finger and a ribbon of a different color come into view on your own hand.

“Holy shit…you can see that?”

Jeonghan watches you nod, your mouth open in awe, as his own hand spirals with gold. You watch as your hand shimmers with maroon warmth, extending up your arm and into your chest. Moving his hand from yours, Jeonghan scoffs in disbelief as the gold ribbon from his hand extends from his finger to meet the maroon trailing from yours, tethered.

“What does it mean?”

Jeonghan laughs at first, shaking his head. He wanted to be able to tell you something that sounded less like a fairytale but all he had was magic. Jeonghan recalled being young and his mother telling him about soulmates and how they were incredibly rare. How some witches and warlocks were very lucky and were tethered to another witch or warlock.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

Furrowing your brows, you smile at Jeonghan’s words. You wanted to laugh and shake your head, tell him no, but instead you feel it in your heart that you do believe. You believe full heartedly. You hadn’t before. You hadn’t believed in anything like that or love at first sight and now here you were staring at him.

“Yeah…I do.”

That hadn’t been what Jeonghan had expected. Your words were welcomed but they had thrown him off. He hadn’t expected you to accept him as a warlock or to accept him past and now you were accepting him as your soulmate? You took his breath away.

“Yeah?”

You smile and nod as Jeonghan smiles too sliding his hand along yours, the ribbons fading into your skin. Gold and maroon meshing and becoming invisible to the naked eye. You could feel they were still there if you wanted to but right now you didn’t need to see or feel the ribbons to know Jeonghan was yours.

“Shit–I…this is not how I thought today would go.”

Jeonghan’s words are spoken on a breathy groan as you slide across his lap to sit across his leg. His hands working their way along your thighs towards your hips feeling your body against his for the first time. It was familiar in a way that shouldn’t make sense.

“I trust you. I–don’t understand any of this, not really but god that’s all I know, Jeonghan. I trust you and in my heart all I know is you’re mine.”

It was what he had known and had been afraid to let himself accept all day. You were his. He had felt bad for thinking it, feeling it but there had been a reason. You were his. You were born his.

Groaning at the feeling of your hips sliding over his, Jeonghan leans his head back, trying to keep his cool, unsure of how quickly you want this to go despite your words, “I trust you,” echoing in his mind.

“Baby…fuck. You’re mine, I know. If you don’t…I’m trying to be good. Let me kiss you.”

You wanted him to kiss you but you didn’t want Jeonghan to be good. You wanted more than that and you could feel that he didn’t want that either. You knew it was fast but that didn’t matter. Sliding your hand along Jeonghan’s arm, your nails scratching at his skin, you lean down to brush your lips over his hearing and feel his hiss into your mouth before he mutters against your lips.

“I said I’m trying to be good.”

“And I said I trust you.”

You had lit a fire in Jeonghan and now you were fanning it hotter with your kisses. He remembered how much he had wanted to touch your skin while standing outside of your apartment. How many layers of clothes had been in his way and now here you were sitting in his lap, his fingers pushing your shirt up your back so that his skin could finally brush over yours. It was like pure electricity connecting you to him.

Jeonghan smirks against your lips when you moan into his mouth. His hands pull you down by your waist over his hardening erection trapped in his jeans. Your leggings were allowing you to feel every bump and ridge of his jeans and how his cock had gotten hard for you so quickly between your legs.

“Please…please… touch me, Jeonghan.”

His brows furrowing, his lips pursing into a silent groan, Jeonghan feels his cock twitch in his jeans when you beg him to touch you. It was beautiful, and you were beautiful. He could listen to you say that all night long. He wanted to listen to you beg for him until the sun came up and maybe even longer.

“I am touching you. See, don't you feel my hands?"

You whine, squirming on Jeonghan’s lap, feeling his fingers under your shirt as he trails them along your back. It wasn’t what you wanted and you knew that he knew that. The smirk in his voice told you that. Sliding your hands along his chest, you lean back to look into Jeonghan’s eyes, your voice full of want to the point where you almost sound like you could cry.

“Touch me everywhere. Take me to bed.”

Jeonghan had half a mind to make you beg him again but your lips brushed over his and then his cheek, causing him to lose his resolve. He laughs under his breath before nodding, feeling you slip from his lap to take his hand. The warm feeling of magic, ribbons tangling and spinning around your hands and fingers, makes Jeonghan take a moment to pause before he finally does stand, letting you lead him toward your bedroom.

The scent of vanilla and chai overwhelms him for a moment as he watches you take a step away from him. Your pretty smile enraptures him as his eyes follow you backwards to your bed. Jeonghan breathes out your name, taking a step towards you before stopping to glance at your bedside table. Three candles are placed in a triangle, each a different color.

“Do you want me to light them?”

Your voice is soft and sweet, almost innocent in your question. You clearly didn’t know what they were or what you had been using them for.

“I can, Ignis.”

The Latin word is half whispered and half just a breath but each candle flutters to life with it, causing you to gasp with wonder. Jeonghan smiles at your reaction, moving closer to step between your legs, his fingers once again sliding to the end of your shirt but this time he drags it up your torso, urging you to lift your arms so he can pull it over your head as he speaks.

“Why did you pick those colors? White, red, and pink?”

Shrugging, you shake your head, biting at your bottom lip as your shirt leaves your fingertips. Jeonghan’s eyes are searching your face before he glances down at your body. His fingers glide along your shoulder as his eyes follow until he looks back into your eyes. Your back arches to the feeling of his hand running over your spine, a small laugh slipping from between your lips as his fingers make quick work of your bra clasp, causing the straps to slip from your shoulders.

“I just like the colors. They look pretty together.”

Jeonghan gives you a skeptical look. His fingers trailing back along your shoulder to guide your bra strap further down your arm as you let it fall from you completely.

“God, you are so beautiful, Angel. Lay back on the bed for me?”

You watch Jeonghan drop your bra onto the floor on top of your shirt as you scoot back onto your bed. His eyes follow you, listening to your steady breath while his hands move to his own clothes. You find yourself being jealous of his hands while also enjoying watching him undress himself. You wanted to run your hands over his skin but you also knew you’d get your chance. You knew you’d only get this chance once. Seeing him like this, undressing for you for the first time, only once.

Jeonghan runs his fingers through his hair as he drops his shirt onto the growing pile of clothes, a sigh on his lips. His eyes glance over you as you lay half naked on the bed in front of him. He wanted to get you out of your leggings and panties to be between your legs but he was going to savor this. He wanted to savor all of it, every discovery.

“I think it’s more than you liking the colors together.”

Shaking your head, you give Jeonghan a confused look. Your fingers slide along your stomach towards your breast as his slender fingers undo his belt and jeans, pushing them door. Jeonghan smirks, his dark eyes following your fingers every move as he kicks his pants from his legs and repeats the process with his boxers.

“White candles represent new beginnings. Like a blank canvas. Red, well, that’s an intense color and an intense candle choice, especially paired with white and pink.”

Sitting up, you whine softly, somewhere mixed between Jeonghan’s name and a moan as you see him fully. His body was perfectly sculpted, from his head to the toes. You feel your mouth all but water as your eyes shamelessly look over his cock, hard and leaking for you. While you were listening to him about your candles, you also wanted him in your bed. You wanted his mouth on you, his hands on your body, and him inside of you.

“I know, Angel. I’m right here. Be a good girl for me…be patient.”

Jeonghan walks beside your bed, his fingers trailing along your hand and arm as you reach out for him. A smirk on his lips as you try to hold on to him, only for him to keep just far enough away. Without asking, as if he had been in your room a hundred times, Jeonghan opens your nightstand drawer and tilts his head. You watch as he sighs softly, pushing a couple things to the side before opening a box of condoms and taking one out.

“The red candle represents fire. It means protection, strength, and courage, but also lust and power. So it’s fitting for a bedroom. I keep one in mine as well.

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment and desire at Jeonghan’s words. Your eyes are fixed on him as he lays the silver square on the nightstand before finally looking at you and resting his knee on the bed to hover over you. Jeonghan’s fingers glide over your stomach and his touch feels like the fire he had been talking about. It’s almost as hot as a candle to your skin but you arch towards it, begging for more as his fingers splay out, inching towards the top of your leggings.

“Pink is an interesting choice next to red. It’s like the flip side of the coin. It’s the candle I would choose for you. It represents tenderness, compassion, and acceptance. If you were a candle, you’d be a pink candle.”

Sucking on your lips, you let go with a small moan as Jeonghan’s fingers dip below the waistband of your leggings. He watches as you lift your hips, your head shaking slowly to his words, before you smile and push your head back into your pillows.

“So I’m a pink candle and you are red?”

Tilting his head, Jeonghan purses his lips, adjusting his fingers into the elastic of your panties as he tugs your leggings down. Jeonghan finally smirked once again, dropping the rest of your clothes off the side of the bed as he answered you.

“That’s a good way of saying it. Do you still trust me?”

Sliding his fingers along the side of your face, Jeonghan stops to rest his thumb against your cheekbone as you look up at him. He knew the answer before you even spoke, but hearing your soft "yes" made his heart beat quicker and his cock jerk against your thigh. You were so innocent and his.

“Mm, yeah? If you ever want me to stop, I want you to say so, okay? I want to try something.”

Jeonghan was moving away from you again, causing you to whine but he didn’t go far. You watch as he picks up your silk scarf from a chair near your bed. You hadn’t given much thought to the scarf in some time; the deep red accessory had been worn a handful of times before you had tossed it on the chair, out of sight and out of mind.

“Hands above your head. I promise, I’ll be gentle. I just want to see…just how much you trust me. Is that bad of me?”

He watches as you shake your head, your arms lifting so that you can cross your wrists above your head. Jeonghan’s breath hitches as your fingers wrap around the wrought iron headboard slot. The cold iron under your fingers causes your skin to erupt with goosebumps as you watch the man in front of you curiously.

“It’s not bad. I said I trusted you. I know you won’t hurt me.”

Shaking his head, Jeonghan smiles a bit at your words, moving to his knee on the mattress next to you. You were right; he’d never hurt you. Not in any way you wouldn’t enjoy it, and certainly not in a way you wouldn’t like it if he could help it.

“This is why you are the pink candle. So tender and trusting. You have your white light around you and yet... you choose a maroon scarf and your arua is the same color? What’s hiding inside of you, my angel?”

Jeonghan’s fingers glide over your skin as he loops the silk around your wrists and finally around the slot between the headboard, loosely tying you to the bed. You were a vision to behold like this, laid out bare and vulnerable for him. So perfectly innocent, yet as he met your eyes, a small smirk played at your lips.

“Oh? Is there something I am going to like when I go looking? Something you might not be able to keep hidden once I’m between your legs?”

With his hand trailing along your side, Jeonghan slowly moves backwards on the bed towards your feet but he keeps his eyes on your face. He didn’t expect an answer but he didn’t need one. The way your breath hitched when his fingers traced over your hip and grazed just shy of your pussy answered the question just as well as anything you could have said out loud.

“Spread your legs for me…”

Closing your eyes, you feel a rush of embarrassment wash over you at Jeonghan’s words. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him between your legs or that you wouldn’t do as he asked; it was that he wanted you to do it for him. He wanted to see you; all of you lay bare in front of him and you could feel how wet you were. You could feel it running between your legs and on to the comforter beneath you, almost as if someone had left a faucet dripping overnight.

“Baby…spread your legs. I won’t force them open. Not tonight, not this time.”

Jeonghan slides his hands along your shins to your knees, watching you consider his words before you let out a slow breath and let your legs fall open in front of him. His eyes drift down your body and fall to either side of him as he moves to kneel between your thighs with a groan.

The candlelight was just enough light for Jeonghan to see how wet you were and he couldn’t help himself. Leaning forward, Jeonghan mutters how beautiful you are as he brushes his fingers between your folds, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. Using what had dripped on his fingers, Jeonghan rubbed his fingers and thumb together before pressing his thumb against your clit, his middle finger sliding back towards your already throbbing entrance.

“This okay?”

He didn’t have to ask. Once again he knew the answer from the way your body was reacting and the moan that spliled from between your pretty lips but he wanted to hear it this time. It was important. It was the first time and it was going so fast.

Pulling at the headboard, the scarf bites into your wrist gently as you feel Jeonghan’s middle finger circle your pussy when he asks for permission. Nodding you whine out yes pushing your hips towards his finger in order to get what you want. You wanted more than just his fingers. You wanted Jeonghan’s mouth, his fingers, his cock. If it were possible to have it all at the same time, maybe then you’d be satisfied.

“More…I can take more. Don’t be so gentle.”

Jeonghan smiles against your knee as he leans to rest his cheek against your leg. His finger is slowly working into you as your walls clench around his single finger. You were greedy. There was the red candle. There was how you were like him.

“You want me to leave marks on you? Remind you who was in your bed when I finally go home? Is that it, Angel?”

Working a second finger into your gummy walls, Jeonghan groans, hearing your whines as you nod and beg him for more. He had never felt like this with anyone else in bed or in a relationship. There had been others in the past. The sex had been intense but there was never this much passion or this much territorial instinct.

He wouldn’t fool himself into thinking he was the first person you had ever been with. He wouldn’t even ask you. Instead, he would fuck you so hard and good that you’d forget their names. He would erase them from your memories so that even if he did ask one day, you’d only be able to say, “I think there was someone…”

Arching your back from the bed as Jeonghan’s third finger slides into you, you cry out in pleasure. His mouth latching onto your thigh hard, somewhere between a bite and a kiss. You can feel the way your skin is going to bruise under his mouth and yet you want spots like that one to paint your entire body like a map that you can revisit in the morning.

“So–I’m so close. Don’t stop…”

Your words cause Jeonghan to smirk against your leg. His tongue runs the length between the love bite and your mound before he replaces his thumb with his tongue. Your mind was hazy with bliss. You were right on the edge when….nothing. Jeonghan kisses your folds but his fingers slide from you, leaving your thighs trembling—your first orgasm taken from you.

“No…no no no… why?”

A quiet laugh and warm breath fanning against your wet folds draw your eyes downward, though you aren’t able to lift your body enough as you strain against silk and iron. Jeonghan lifts his brow at you, his fingers lazily playing with his spit and the wetness dripping from your wanting pussy as you whine at him confused.

“You beg so beautifully. Nothing worth having was given so easily. Try again, Y/N.”

Throwing your head back against the pillow you close your eyes feeling Jeonghan’s fingers slipping back into you slowly, one by one. The pressure slowly beginning to build once again. He wanted you to beg? You could beg for something you wanted, especially when it was him. When it was this.

Jeonghan groans to the taste of you, his tongue running along your folds to his fingers before he finally wraps his lips around your clit sucking lightly. You were panting his name and begging under your breath but it wasn’t enough just yet. He could get you to do more. With a curl of his finger, brushing the spongy spot on the roof of your walls, Jeonghan smirks, his tongue resting against the throbbing bundle of nerves at his mouth as you cry out his name loudly.

“Oh fuck! Jeonghan! Please? I need it. Please? Please, can I cum? Let me cum for you. I’ve been good. I can be better. I–ah! Please!”

Your words were urgent. Tears fell over the rims of your eyes from feeling overwhelmed and the pleasure that ripped through your body as Jeonghan finally gave you what you wanted Groaning against your pussy, he buries his fingers in you deeply over and over again until finally the floodgates keeping your orgasm back break.

Jeonghan’s warm, soft, wet tongue runs to your entrance, collecting your cum on his tongue as he moans in appreciation. His hands slide under your body to pull you closer to his face as he eats you out as if you were his last meal. Alternating between his tongue and his lips, Jeonghan takes his time to clean you of every last drop of cum as your thighs tremble around his head, your muscles screaming from overstimulation by the time he is finished.

Moving between your legs, Jeonghan smiles, reaching up to wipe his hand along his mouth and chin as you look up at him with lustful eyes. There was what he had been searching for. That look in your eyes.

Reaching towards the nightstand, Jeonghan swipes the condom from it, bringing the corner of the silver square to his lips as you watch him catch your breath. Carefully, he rips the foil open as if he’s done it a hundred times, making you roll your eyes playfully. Jeonghan grins, the latex in hand, his eyes moving from yours only for a moment as he reaches between your body and his to roll the condom onto his length as he speaks into a groan.

“What? Was that too cheesy?”

“You reminded me of a college fuckboy, but I think I might love you anyway.”

Your words stop Jeonghan from moving and cause his breath to hitch in his throat. He had hinted at it earlier in the park. The leaf had fallen within his reach and you had mentioned the story about catching them and falling in love…But what if you were already in love with who you were walking with?

Lifting his eyes to meet yours, Jeonghan finds you looking away. You had clearly realized what you had said and you were trying to hide your face without the use of your hands. Your fingers were straining against the silk that kept you bound to the bed but he didn’t need you bound to the bed anymore.

Using his right hand, Jeonghan quickly unties the scarf, letting you pull your hands from the headboard but he is quick to catch them before you can cover your face. You watch as he shakes his head, lifting your left hand to his lips to press a kiss to your fingers as he does.

No, he didn’t need you bound in anyway, except to him, which you already were. The maroon ribbons of magic swirling around your fingers again caused a glow against his lips as he let them rest there but you could see how the fibers of the ribbon trailed off and down to the bed where his left hand rested next to your body.

“You think you love me?”

Swallowing hard, you feel your heart beating hard and fast in your chest. You knew that Jeonghan could feel it against his own skin as he lay on top of you. There was no point or reason for you to lie, so you nod.

“Yes.”

Jeonghan smiles, pressing another kiss to your fingers. His hand slides along your arm until he lets go of it completely, instead of trailing his hand along your leg to your knee. Pulling it up to his hip, Jeonghan groans, leaning down to brush his lips against yours as he rolls his hips towards yours. Your soft moan fans hot breath against his mouth when you feel his cock press against your folds but not quite hard enough to push into you just yet.

“I think I knew that I loved you the moment I caught that maple leaf. You were and are so beautiful. You were smiling up at the sky and the stupid trees and I was jealous of them. Then you were telling me about this fairytale..."

Whispering Jeonghan’s name, you start to tell him that you love him again but fall short when the head of his cock finally gets the perfect angle and he is able to slowly thrust into you. Jeonghan closes his eyes, his fingers digging into your skin at your hip, feeling your warm walls clenching around him with each slow inch that you take inside of you.

“Fuck…baby. You feel so good. I–god…You were telling me about falling in love and leaves and I was falling in love with you. I fell in love with you because we were born for one another. You were born to be mine. No one elses.”

And he would never let anyone else have you. Not now, not ever, Jeonghan thought to himself as he bottomed out into you for the first time. Your hand sliding along his waist to rest on his back, pulling him closer to you as you gasped out a moan, feeling full of him.

While Jeonghan’s words and the magic of it all didn’t make complete sense, what did was the feeling that he was describing. You knew it too. You knew it the moment he walked away the first time at the cafe. That man was yours. This man…is yours.

Scratching at his skin lightly, you nod and mutter his name on a moan before throwing your head back, feeling pleasure rush through you when Jeonghan starts to pick up his pace and deepen his thrusts. He was beginning to learn about you. He could feel it now, every time your pussy would tighten around his cock if he moved just the right way. So he would move that way again and then purposely make you wait before he would do it all over again, just so he could listen to you cry his name against his lips.

“Are you gonna cum for me again?”

Nodding, you wrap your hand around the back of Jeonghan’s neck, trying to keep his mouth near yours but he laughs at your instance. There was your greed that he loved so much. He wasn’t leaving you. He would kiss you every day for the rest of your shared life together but right now…he wanted to watch you fall apart on his cock for the first time.

“Angel, I love how you cry for me like this. Is it that good? You like my cock that much?”

His words were making you feel shy but still, you nodded and whined out a yes as tears ran down your cheeks. The pressure of your orgasm building in your abdomen as Jeonghan reaches between your legs to circle his thumb around your clit only causes your thighs to tremble even harder.

“Ah…Jeonghan! Please…”

The last of your words are whispered, almost tearfully between a moan and a sob, as you try to keep your orgasm at bay, though it hurts to try. Jeonghan hisses back his own groan. His climax is on the edge, barreling behind yours as he tightens his grip on your thighs, thrusting into you harder and pushing your head towards the headboard with each powerful thrust.

“Cum baby. Do it… I’m not going—fuck, I’m right behind you.”

Your hands clench on the bedding under you as you tightly close your eyes, seeing white the moment your orgasm washes over you for the second time. The intensity of pleasure is so intense for you and Jeonghan as you clench around him like a vice that any attempts he has at holding himself back are futile.

Jeonghan groans, feeling warm, thick cum spill into the condom with one final thrust before he falls over you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You are grateful for the weight of his body as you come down from your high. Your legs slowly stop shaking as Jeonghan’s hand runs along the length of your outer thigh. His lips work soft, tender kisses along the span of your neck before he makes it to your lips, catching his breath on the way.

Smiling against your lips, Jeonghan knows he has pulled you. He knows he has to take care of the condom and that he needs to get you cleaned up but when you smile back against his lips he can’t make himself move just yet. Instead, he runs his fingers from the side of your face and neck to the back of your head, pulling you closer to his mouth. The kiss never rushed, feeling like it took your breath away while also giving you all you would ever need to survive, up until the moment Jeonghan finally pulled back to whisper against your lips.

“I love you.”

You had a feeling he would say the words. The two of you had been playing around with the words the entire time. You knew how fast it was. You knew how crazy it was but how crazy could it be when there was something bigger than both of you telling you it was meant to be?

For your entire life, there had only been a handful of people you had ever spoken those three words too and meant them completely. Now you knew that as you said them to Jeonghan, you meant them for the rest of your life.

“I love you too.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, Jeonghan takes in the feeling of hearing the words on your lips. His fingers slide along the back of your head and over your hair before he kisses you once more and pulls from you at last. You watch with fond curiosity as he takes care of himself, disposing of the condom, cleaning up the wrapper, and moving towards your bedroom door, searching for something.

“What are you looking for?”

Sighing into a yawn, Jeonghan stretches his left arm above his head to feel the muscles in his back extend, knowing all the while that your eyes were taking in every inch of his skin. He had no reason to feel shy or embarrassed after what had happened. In fact, he was loving every moment of your eyes on his bare skin; he was taking pride in your enjoyment of him.

“Your bathroom. I wanted to start a bath or shower for us. Something…”

Sliding up in the bed, you smile, pulling your legs up towards your chest as you watch Jeonghan as he finally turns back to look at you. There was still so much to learn about one another but you knew there were many hours left in the night and many years left for the rest of your life.

“Next door on the right. I’d prefer a bath.”

Nodding, Jeonghan glances towards the door you mentioned before looking back at you fondly. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his entire life at that moment. The moonlight shining on you from the window, the candle light in the reflection of your eyes, and that maroon arua around your hand that signified you were his.

“Then a bath is what you get, Angel.”

You follow Jeonghan for as long as you can with your eyes until he is out of your view. Just the sounds of water filling the tub and his humming as you lean back on your bed, lifting your hand to look at the magic swirling around your hand. All that maroon and a spot of gold at the tip of your left finger to let you know he was bound to you.

“This is crazy.”

You laugh at your own hushed words, lifting your other hand to run it over your fingers. You don’t notice as Jeonghan comes back into the room, leaning against the doorframe for a moment to watch you.

“No, it’s just a little magic, baby.”

#jeonghan smut #seventeen smut #svthub #svthub.collab #jeonghan angst #seventeen angst #svt smut #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen supernatural #seventeen soulmate au

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belovedmusings · 21 days

Text

Sugar-coated, lies unfolded.

Choso Kamo x You x Suguru Geto

Explicit Themes 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Part nine of the 'Two + One' story. Click for story masterlist.

Guitarist! Choso Kamo is your boyfriend, and he recently just found out that you have feelings for his bandmate, Suguru, and that Suguru reciprocates. He's allowing you to explore that with Suguru...but could you actually do that to him? Sleep with another man?

Relevant tags: sexual tension, thoughts of infidelity, characters with questionable morals, Choso is sweet and loyal, Suguru is charming and sexy, slow burn, no "y/n" for immersion, 2nd POV, reader has no defining characteristics, explicit smut, nipple play (male receiving), oral sex (fem receiving), bathroom sex, love bites, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, handjob

Recommended songs to listen to while reading: Candy (Doja Cat), I Want It All (Cameron Grey), High Enough (K.Flay, RAC)

A/N: I think satan himself came over me when i wrote this chapter so...enjoy ;)

Read on Ao3 if you prefer!

Or read below cut:

The next morning had gone completely normally. You had woken up with Choso, shared your usual morning kiss, then got ready for the day beside him. You’d had breakfast, your normal conversations, and when he had to go to meet with the band, you had kissed him goodbye and exchanged your ‘I love you’s with him.

It’s when you’re going about your normal day just after you’ve had lunch that you receive a phone call.

Suguru.

He’s never called you before. Choso should be with him–did something happen?

Hurriedly, you accept the call. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Suguru’s buttery voice comes through the speaker casually, and it disarms you from any immediate threats.

“Hey,” You reply, sitting back. “Is everything okay?”

“What, I can’t just call you?” Suguru chuckles on the other end, the sound rattling around inside of you like a marble in a glass jar. You hear a sigh. “Well, I did call you for a reason.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“He told me about everything,” Suguru says, and your suspicions are confirmed. “He told me about that dream you had of me–which we’ll come back to–then the conversation you had afterwards. You told him all about us, it seems.”

You draw in a breath. “Yes, I-I did…”

“And he told me he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. He felt a little uncomfortable, but then because it’s me, he said it didn’t bother him. Apparently the two of us showing restraint is what let him come to the conclusion to trust us…and let us explore things together.”

You’re worrying your lip so hard between your teeth as you listen that a layer of skin is peeling off. “Yeah…he…he did say that.”

“So…he’s given us his permission,” Suguru states slowly. “On his conditions, of course.”

You know what Suguru is getting at, but there’s just something inside of you reluctant to lean into it. Maybe it’s Choso’s reaction, his patience and unconditional love, or the way the two of you made love the night before. But guilt is killing you.

“I…” You begin, “Suguru…I don’t think I can do it.”

A beat. Then, a sigh. “...it’s because you feel like you’re taking advantage of him, right?”

“Well, yes…it just doesn’t feel right. He said we could, but what kind of loving girlfriend sleeps with her boyfriend’s bandmate?”

“I understand,” replies Suguru, “I feel the same. It’s like exploiting his kindness, isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah, exactly…”

“So, we won’t, then.”

It sounds like a question, even though it’s a statement. “We shouldn’t.”

An unanswer. The two of you are pushing and pulling again.

“Hey, my smoke break is almost over, so I have to go back in. I’ll text you later.”

A part of you is disappointed when he says it. You don’t want to say goodbye yet. You like having him there on the phone.

“Okay,” You respond softly.

“Okay.”

The call ends, and you put your head in your hands.

What on Earth is your life?

Nothing happens for the next four weeks. You don’t see him at all, but he does make it a point to call and text you consistently. Despite not acting on your desires, you grow closer with Suguru over text and phone calls, and if nothing else, he becomes a good friend of yours.

You and Choso have no issues, and life continues on. You don’t sleep with Suguru, you force yourself not to think of him in any sort of sexual way, and you make peace with it.

Everything is fine up until the release party for the album they had been working on, and recently just completed.

You got done up in makeup, styled your hair, put on a dress suited for the occasion, and went with Choso to Suguru’s place where he’s holding it.

On the way there, you tell yourself nothing will happen. You haven’t reached out to him, asking to see him, you haven’t had another dream, and your thoughts of him have remained innocent. You have your mind in order.

All of that goes to hell immediately when you lay your gaze on Suguru, the moment after you set foot in the house.

He’s there in black jeans and an equally black tank-top, sinfully tight and leaving nothing to the imagination. It’s like he wore that just to remind you of everything that you’ve been lusting after; his bulging muscles, the piercings adorning the centers of his two pecs, the tattoos undulating over his pale skin…and that’s just his body. His face…god, his face.

His inky midnight hair falls in thick tresses down his shoulders, framing a face painters would vy for. Piercings and thick liner rimming his eyes, he’s the closest thing to a rock god you have ever seen.

“Hey,” He greets you, and you think maybe he’s already said ‘hello’ to Choso but you aren’t sure. You muster up a smile, trying your best to salvage your resolve.

“Hi.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment as Choso moves in to set his guitar up with the rest of the band’s cozy set-up in Suguru’s spacious living room.

“You look breathtaking,” He tells you, a softness in his eyes that only serves to complicate you.

“So do you,” You say, gesturing to him. He just shrugs, and it seems like his golden gaze pierces through you. You both know what you decided on, but right now the air between you is electric.

All it takes is a glance at the opposite corner of the living room to see Choso’s eyes on you, and you suddenly feel as if you’ve been caught doing something wrong. You flit your gaze back to Suguru for a second, apologetic, before making your way into the house.

After that, it’s sweet, sweet torture.

You feel like you’re on high alert the entire soundcheck. You participate as well as you can in assisting with providing the audience perspective, but you’re so focused on acting normal that you can barely remember anything.

The same goes for the actual release performance. You’d greeted all of Choso’s brothers when they’d arrived, then found your seat at the front of the small folding-chair arrangement, and then fought your way through normal reactions to each song.

You’d heard them all before, as Choso had both played them for you on his phone and practiced them with his guitar, but watching them all put together live with mood lighting, the band all dressed-up…it’s electric.

Between Choso and Suguru, your eyes are feasting. Two gorgeous men, performing, letting their lined gazes gravitate towards you, twin spotlights.

When the set finishes, the after party starts, and you stand up, Choso welcoming you into his arms and giving you a deep kiss as Larue begins to spin the first round of music.

“You did amazing,” You tell your boyfriend, smiling up at him. “This album is gonna be so successful.”

He smiles down at you, leaning in to press another kiss to your lips. “You’ve supported me this whole time. I’m so grateful to you.”

Your hand moves to cup his cheek, and you sigh appreciatively. His chocolate locks pulled up into his signature spiky buns, eyes smoked out with purple and lined with unique markings that touch his nose bridge tattoo, the gentle tenderness in his stare…you just adore him.

“You’re precious to me,” You tell him, speaking from the heart, and you can see the light inside of him brighten a bit.

“I love you.”

He gets your heart to pound even now. “I love you too.”

“Choso!”

The sound of his youngest brother’s voice calling out to him pulls you two out of your little bubble, and you turn to see Yuji walking towards you, his other brothers in tow.

“That was awesome, man!” Yuji says, clapping him on the back. “You gotta introduce us to the band!”

Choso looks at you, unsure to leave you alone at a party full of strangers. You know how important his brothers are to him, so you simply shake your head with a smile. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine, baby.”

He gives you a thankful grin, kissing your cheek before leading the mob of his brothers off to Larue first since he’s the closest.

Bass heavy music fills the mood-lit space of his living room, music executives, other artists, models, whoever Suguru and the rest of the band know fill it with their intoxicated, sweaty bodies. You move to the bar of Suguru’s kitchen, overlooking the living room, deciding to fix yourself a drink to pass the time.

You’ve drunk exactly half of your solo cup when it happens.

Your eyes are dusting over the crowd uninterestedly until they catch on a familiar frame.

Suguru. He’s talking with a woman, a slender, tall figure that must be a model he knows somehow. His hand is on the wall beside her, leaning over her, a loose grin on her flawless face–and immediately an unbridled jealousy wells up inside of you without your permission.

As soon as the sharp negativity registers, Suguru chooses that exact moment to find your gaze with his own. The charming smile he had on his face fades, and you don’t know why, but you feel enraged.

It’s a muddy, red feeling, completely unfounded, shame tinging it dark. But it’s yours, and the longer you stare at him the heavier it feels.

Unable to look at him with another woman any longer, you turn on your heel and head straight for the only place you know you can be alone in this big house–the bathroom.

You’ve just pushed the door open to the empty room when you hear him call to you.

You whirl around, and that’s when he backs you in, shutting the door behind you. The only light in the small room is reflecting from the frosted window at the other end, streetlight outside and the Moon casting a dim glow.

“You’re upset,” Suguru says, hand on your cheek. You avert your eyes, pushing his hand off of you.

“You’re not mine, I have no right to be,” it comes out cold and uneven. “Go back, she’s probably wondering where you went.”

“Forget her, I don’t want her,” He forces your gaze back to him. “I want you.”

The dense air is ripe with stillness. You can’t even hear the loud music outside anymore. Your eyes are locked with Suguru’s, and you know you’re screwed.

He pulls you in and ducks down, beginning to leave feverish kisses over your neck.

“I want you so fucking much,” He breathes, heat fanning over your skin and making you shiver. He looks up at you and leans in real close, the tips of your noses touching. “It’s taking everything in my power not to kiss you right now.”

Involuntarily, your eyes flit down to his lips, and he exhales shakily, closing his eyes and brushing them faintly against yours. You turn your face away.

“We can’t.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat and tightens his hold on you, dragging his teeth over the skin just under your ear.

“I know we said we wouldn’t,” He replies, “But I can’t do it, I can’t resist you knowing that I can have you like this…”

“I don’t want to hurt him. I love him.” Your resolve is wavering.

“I know,” Suguru murmurs, “He knows, too. Just let yourself have this. Let me do this.”

You swallow hard, a sigh leaving your lips as he trails wet kisses down to your collarbone.

“Let me,” He says, “You want this. You want me.”

You lean back against the counter, hands on the edge as he keeps going further down, this time undeterred by your dress and its neckline.

His lips find the top of your breast, and he looks up at you.

“Tell me to stop.”

Those words can’t even begin to take form on your tongue.

This time, he repeats it in a whisper. “Tell me to stop.”

Fuck it. You can’t stand this anymore.

“No.”

“Then I won’t.”

He pushes the top of your dress unimportantly out of the way, exposing the rest of the soft flesh of your chest.

He eyes your breasts with desire before looking up at you, making sure you’re watching him before parting his lips and swiping his tongue out, letting the bead of his piercing catch on your stiff peak.

You gasp, and his lips turn up at the corners. Then he does it again. His thumb rubs the one not getting worked by his mouth, and you watch as he flutters his tongue over the bud, closing his lips around it and sucking.

“Ah,” You moan, head falling back. “Suguru…”

“Yes,” He breathes, “I’ve waited so long to hear that, fuck, you are so beautiful.”

You bite your lip as he praises you, arching your back as he continues to devour you. It’s a sinful scene, something so hazy you feel like if you move a certain way you’ll wake from a dream. The little shocks of pleasure undulating down from your peaks start to build heat in your core, wetness pooling in the lace underneath the skirt of your dress.

The bumping of the music outside of the bathroom only adds to the heavy atmosphere, so loud it vibrates the counter behind you, and you have to actually take a moment to realize that Suguru’s lips have started traveling further down your body. Right over the fabric of your dress, he kisses a line as he gets to his knees, leveling himself with your thighs. He looks up at you with those pretty, golden eyes, a translucent midnight in the dim lighting of the moon, rimmed with eyeliner, and he presses a peck to your knee, palms caressing the skin at the hem of your dress.

You can only watch him do it, watch him start littering your skin with kisses, taking your left leg and hiking it over his shoulder to get further up your thighs.

Each brush of his metal-adorned lips has you moving closer to insanity. Little flowers of pleasure bloom every time he sucks a mark and pulls away, the skin tenderized and wet with saliva. The feeling of his hot mouth getting closer and closer to the spot that hungers the most for him intensifies, and soon enough, he pushes your dress up far enough to get it around your hips and out of his way. Panties on display, he locks eyes with you and rubs the skin of your inner thigh slowly, pressing his lips to the dip right beside your apex. You tense, and he grins, flicking his tongue out to run it over the skin there.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” He murmurs, eyes flitting down, then up again. “Right here is where I want to be…”

You swear your heart may give out. You’ve fantasized so much about this moment, and now that it’s happening, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You’re sure any second you’re going to combust.

“I wish you could see your face,” He grins, looking at you with an amused smile. “You want it bad…”

Taking a breath, you try to get a grip to respond. The best you can manage is, “I’m not the only one.”

He chuckles low in his throat, syrupy and rich, and then parts his lips to drag his tongue over the front of your panties.

“Ah!” You gasp, the unexpected movement catching you by surprise. All Suguru does is do it again, this time drawing circles into the fabric with the stud in his tongue, your clothed clit throbbing in delight.

He closes his lips around it, sucking before tilting his head down, rubbing the tip of his nose against the bud.

You shiver, a hand threading into his hair. “Suguru…”

“Keep making those noises for me,” He breathes, kissing the front of your panties a few times, then swirling his tongue around your clothed pearl again. The added friction of the fabric heightens your pleasure, and you feel it getting soaked, a combination of your arousal and his spit. The thought alone furthers your desire.

He adds more pressure on his next lick, and it has you twitching, a soft whimper leaving your lips. He repeats the movement over and over and over again until your breath is hitched and uneven, little moans tumbling freely from your voice.

“Suguru,” You finally warn, “I’m gonna cum…”

“Cum,” He replies, “Cum on my tongue, baby.”

“Ah!” You cry out, the pet name hitting your senses right in their vital points, orgasm sweeping through you like a vengeful spirit claiming its latest victim. He helps you ride it out, keeping his tongue on you until your body begins to relax.

“You’re gorgeous when you cum,” He compliments breathlessly, and you huff in embarrassment.

“Am I really?”

“Yeah,” He nods, gazing at you with blown pupils. “I want to see it again.”

Faster than you can comprehend, he’s hooking your sopping panties out of the way, taking your bare cunt into his mouth.

The sensitivity overwhelms you and you gasp, biting your lip. “Suguru…I-I already came…”

“You can do it again,” He replies, flicking his tongue over the swollen bud at the top of your folds. “Come on, just focus on the feeling…”

It’s a dull yet sharp sort of pain, a kind you discover you like, and you moan as he relentlessly pursues your pleasure, squirming in the vice grip he has on your hips, no doubt destined to bruise. The thought of the shape of his hands branded into your skin tomorrow, ingrained in a phantom ache…it makes your core pulse with need.

He groans, dragging his right hand down your leg, the cool, hard sensation of his rings making you suck your lip between your teeth.

Then, you feel two thick, rough fingers entering you, jewelry and all.

“Oh god,” it comes out desperate and sort of broken, because Suguru is fingering you now, using the beautiful hand he strokes his bass guitar with, and for fuck’s sake he really knows how to use them.

He’s folded the three fingers he’s not using to aim better with the two inside, curling them upwards to prod at the magic spot within you as he sucks hard on your clit.

Your head falls back and you suppress what would have been a pornstar-worthy cry, yet your effort is wasted when on the next thrust of his digits, the sound of your ecstasy is forced out of you as he wriggles his fingers slightly on your g-spot.

“Suguru!”

“Beautiful,” He breathes against your folds, eyes still trained on you as if he was a spectator beholding an art exhibit.

When he says it, it clatters around inside of you like a china plate shattering on a kitchen floor. He must know what it does to you, because he dives right back in, eating you out like his life depends on it, complete with noises generated at the back of his throat like a starved man finally allowed food.

All too soon, as he’d predicted, your second orgasm approaches. It fades in like the start of your favorite Curse Manipulator song, building, building, building—

Something that has never happened before happens.

You feel this release of pressure, an overwhelming rush of heat, the sound of your own wanton scream sounding far away as you soak Suguru’s fingers and chin. He made you squirt. For the first time in your life.

You can barely remember where you are by the time he stands up, licking your juices off of his rings and wrapping his arm back around your waist to get close to you.

Like this, you feel the press of his hard cock straining against his jeans on your thigh and you shiver, meeting his eyes.

“Did you like that?” He asks in a sort of whisper, and you nod mindlessly, leaning forward to kiss him.

Then you remember yourself and the rules, and pull away. He makes a disappointed noise and cups your face with his left hand.

“I wish you could taste yourself on my tongue,” He whispers, touching his nose to yours. “I want to kiss you so badly right now.”

Your eyes meet his, and though you just came twice, you still feel a raging fire inside of you for him.

You don’t answer verbally; you just tilt your head to the side and lay a kiss on his cheek. He sighs, eyes fluttering shut, and you get more bold, kissing a line all the way down his neck. Your hands travel from his shoulders down his chest, over the taut fabric of his black tank top, ghosting over the piercings on each of his pecs on their way down.

You make it to the edge of his shirt and you suddenly become all-too-aware of the fact that you get to touch him. You get to do whatever the fuck you want to him, after all of these months of dreaming about it, he’s finally putty in your hands.

Like a kid in a candy store, your lips latch onto his neck as you push his shirt up, only pulling back to help him take it off and toss it unimportantly to the floor. Your eyes feast on his bare, muscular torso, pale skin seeming to glow in the lavender moonlight. The tattoos on his skin decorate him beautifully, and your vision catches on the twin silver barbels in each of his nipples, mouth salivating. It only worsens when you see the bulge in his black jeans, fiending for release.

How is he this gorgeous?

“Keep looking at me like that and I’m not gonna obey the rules,” He warns softly, hands on your waist, and you meet his eyes, dangerously close to wanting to break them yourself.

“You’re just…” You trail off, laying a hand on his chest and running it down slowly, watching his breath hitch. “God you’re just…”

He smiles slightly, amused, and you just shake your head and lean forward, mouth landing on his collarbone.

Your lips busy sucking marks into his chest, your hands need something new to touch, so you find the buckle of his belt, starting to tug on it.

You can feel the uptick in his heart rate because it’s beating right beneath your kiss, and the knowledge that you’re affecting him so much goes straight to your head.

His hands have moved up to your breasts, kneading them gently as you work his pants open, satisfaction filling you the second you feel the button release.

In search of what you yearn for, you drag the zipper down and dip your hand underneath the waistband of his boxers, at last coming into contact with the smooth, hard heat of his cock. He gasps, breath fluttering, and the moment you wrap your hand around it and pull it free from the confines of his clothing, he groans. It’s music to your ears.

The touches he’s been giving to you intensify as you begin to stroke him, his shaft thick and lengthy in your grasp.

Except for the small amount of precum you spread down his length, there’s nothing to help the glide, but he remedies that by canting his hips forward and raising your knee, cock bumping against your soaked mound. You jolt, thinking he means to slip inside, and he shakes his head.

“I don’t have condoms,” He murmurs, “But you can still get me wet.”

A slight tinge of disappointment fills you—there won’t be that final push tonight, but you’re here and you’re so turned on you can’t think straight, so you do as he says and rub his tip against your folds.

“Oh, fuck,” He breathes out, head falling back. He inhales sharply, starting to rock his hips to rut against you. “Fuck, you feel so soft…”

Your composure utterly gives out beneath you and you fall forward, letting your forehead rest against his chest as he continues fucking against your clit. It’s over-sensitive and puffy, but god damn is it determined to keep up?

Unable to help yourself, you drag your teeth over one of his tattoos, and he grunts, hand winding behind your waist to pull you closer. Spurred on and suddenly level with his pec, you part your lips and allow your tongue to swipe over the pierced nipple beneath it, and he shudders.

“Fuck, baby.”

If he keeps calling you that, you’re going to need to be admitted.

Of course, it only impassions you, and your strokes quicken, hand tightening every time you get to the tip and loosening on the way down.

“Yes,” He sighs out, taking your face in his hand and guiding it up. He looks at you in the eyes for a second, then moves in, planting a kiss left of your mouth. Your eyes close, and he keeps going, giving you desperate pecks as he keeps fucking your hand, getting himself sloppy with your essence, precum mixing in with it.

His mouth finds your ear and he bites at the shell, low groans sending vibrations down your spine.

“I wanna fuck you,” He sounds winded in a way you’ve never heard before, strained, and it’s so fucking sexy. “I wanna be inside of you so badly…I wanna feel every detail.”

“Oh god,” You shudder, eyes squeezing shut, feeling lightheaded.

“If I could, I’d grab you and turn you around,” He tells you, “I’d make you take it all until you’re stuffed with my cum.”

Jesus Christ, that’s the dirtiest thing anyone has ever said to you. Your body trembles involuntarily, clenching on nothing, and you pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his hips. All you can do now is hold his cock down while he ruts against you, friction mutually beneficial, completely losing your mind.

“Would you like that?” He asks, voice sultry like brown sugar, sweet and bad for you.

Still, you nod, long gone, clutching onto him for dear life. “Yes…”

“Yes? Yes, who?” He asks, a dangerous little tinge in his voice, “Who is it that you want to get fucked by right now?”

Fuck, “You…”

His thrusts are turning erratic and you can feel him getting close, muscles tensing up, urgency increasing.

“What’s my name?” He asks you, a soft demand.

Oh god, “Suguru.”

“That’s right,” He murmurs, hissing as he teeters over the edge. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby…”

As if commanded by him, your body seizes up and your third orgasm of the night hits you, nails digging into his shoulder. That’s all it takes for him to follow—he seethes air through his teeth, voice catching in a guttural grunt, and you feel hot semen spilling onto the tender flesh of your mound, staining the fabric of your ruined panties.

“God,” He breathes, trying to calm down, eyes unfocused.

They land on your face, and all he does is look at you for a moment before leaning in, kissing your forehead.

“I won’t see anyone else,” He murmurs to you, firm and breathless.

You shake your head automatically. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“I know.”

Such a violent tenderness erupts inside of you, endorphins and oxytocin swirling around like a hurricane, making a mess of your psyche. He really doesn’t want anyone but you, and that knowledge is sharp like a knife. Despite the danger of it, you don’t want to leave.

If Suguru’s desire for you is destined to swallow you whole, you are royally fucked.

a/n: the way my fingers flew writing this

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milknhonies · 3 months

Text

Sir Sherlock Holmes & The Indian Princess

शर्लक बाबू और भारतीय राजकुमारी

Chapter 1 || Masterlist || Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: In England, Sherlock Holmes receives an alarm letter from his dear friend Doctor John Watson. In Delhi, You don't mind being a teacher, but with new building plans, you reflect on your circumstances and opportunities.

Pairing: Sherlock Homes x Desi!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Slow burn, generational trauma, colonisation, implied murder, death of a parent, classism & caste.

Word Count: 6k

Author Notes:

★ Everything written in bold is being said in Hindustani

★The Reader character goes by the last name Newalkar and is the daughter of Damodar Rao Newalkar → the adopted son of Rani Laxmibai. I must advise this story is pure fiction but based in the occupation of the British Raj that invaded and Colonised India.

★I am a White European/Australian woman, I apologise for any cultural or historical inaccuracies. I am receiving help from online sources and desi Tumblr mutual @livesinfantasyland and I heavily encourage other Indian/South Asian/Desi readers to share their thoughts, constructive criticism and help as I write this story.

Inspiring Song: "Paint it Black" by Ciara

11:35pm Thursday 26th June 1890, 221B Baker Street, Marylebone, Westminster, London, England.

This story begins and ends with the sound of rain.

Tink!

The roof had begun a leak. And when this leak came to play it had a habit of landing directly on the head of a disgruntled and lonely fellow. The greatest detective in London who could not find a friend. Granted I must inform you, Mr Sherlock Holmes did in fact have some friends, but by misfortunes, none were presently in the country.

Tink!

He angrily sighed. Another drop of rain hit his head.

He launched from his arm chair and grumbling moved an empty teapot to sit on the cushion he previously sat. The drops thus made a small tinkling as they landed inside the empty pot.

Plonk!

He rubbed his eyes and checked the time on the mantle piece clock. He had lost weeks of his life. Hours squeezed down to into unknown days or months, he could not tell. It did not help how he consistently drew the curtains closed to design total darkness other than the fireplace and his candles to light up his home.

A light shiver ran up his spine. The weather was dangerously cold today. His fingertips upon inspection grew from pale white to a dark pink.

Plonk!

He wandered if perhaps it was time to have a holiday in sunny Spain.

A knock on his door broke his imagined vacation like a hammer to glass.

His pesky landlady Mrs Hudson intruded on his stuffy dust filled space. She grumbled nonsense about the filth of her apartment she’s rented out to the famous Detective before handing him a thick envelope.

Plonk!

And the moment he could see and recognised the handwriting he snatched the Letter from her wrinkly fingers and banished her with a bellowing shout. The woman fluttered out and muttered her further disgusts of his treatment.

Plonk!

But Sherlock did not care for her opinion or rather anyone’s for that matter, Sherlock only cares about the stamp he tore opened the parchment he eagerly unfolded.

John Watson. Doctor, soldier and dear friend. He was Sherlock’s greatest companion to note. He had never felt such brotherly love until he met the very man seeking a roommate here in baker street.

Doctor and detective used to comb London for clues to solve crimes and very noticeably took an interest at the sports of pleasure. The luxurious brothels of London welcomed him and his friend with open arms and spread legs. Doctor Watson was the easy victim of sex while Sherlock was one to enjoy his opium pipe and watch his friend succumb to the mouths of half-pound harlots.

And among these adventures of interesting women did the doctor find himself in a savage tussle with another jealous male patron...

Sherlock recalled the evening with mirth. His dear friend, brother in arms had been pummelled to a pulp and drunk as a daisy. So when Sherlock escorted him to a hospital, the imbecile had declared that he was doctor of the ward and did not need any stitches. It is a grand thing perhaps Doctor Watson could not fathom the memory of yelling too proudly that his medicine could be only found in the elixir of a woman’s warm cunny.

His nurse, a dirty bird at heart had giggled at this...that nurses name was Mary Mortenson. And she became the very enamoured Mrs Mary Watson.

Sherlock was not fond of his friend becoming so besotted with his bride. He tolerated the woman’s presences at best. Unspokenly, the detective saw competition to gain the doctors attention and it was becoming far too obvious that Mrs Watson would win. Every. Single. Time.

After a month of young love the married pair had decided their honey-moon should be experienced back in John’s birth land...Delhi, a city in India. Mary was to meet the senior Mr and Mrs Watson. Coincidently, the English rose was not averse to the foreign lands…she so happened to have been born in Agra. Happy and married, they boarded and sailed across the sea.

Sherlock had high hopes their ship would run scarce of supplies so they might return quickly. He missed his dear friend and even his annoying wife.

The letter in between if thumbs and fingers were the first words from them he had gotten in nearly three months. The letter read as followed...

“Dear Sherlock,

Mary and I have come to my home I grew up in as a boy. I was blessed with my parents merry welcome. However, unfortunate circumstances have designed two coffins. For merely a week into our visit my beloved parents have passed. I have yet to decide whether to bury them in the English tradition or burn them in the Hindi ritual. My predicted return back to Baker Street may appear futile and non-existent. Please. Come visit us as soon as it is convenient.

13, 25, 27, 16, 1, 18, 5, 14, 20, 19, 27, 8, 23, 5, 27, 2, 5, 5, 14, 27, 13, 21, 18, 4, 5, 18, 5, 4.

Your sincere faithful friend, Doctor John H. Watson.”

Plonk!

Sherlock’s eyes raced over the page, and cupped his mouth staring at the plethora of numbers. They were not any numbers. John was a simple man, he wasn’t the smartest being but Sherlock appreciated his humble attitudes, he liked the doctor admitting he wasn’t a world genius, just a man who knew his medicines.

So when an enigmatic set of numbers was written at random Sherlock thought of the most simplistic cypher.

For every number was a letter. 1 being A and 26 being Z, leaving 27 to be a space between a word.

His brows lifted. The message was clear and alarming.

Plonk!

“My Parents Have Been Murdered.”

He determined his dear doctor had written this cryptic message under the desire of secrecy. His eyes lit up. It meant John needed Sherlock’s help. A case. Something was amiss. John did not know the killers name. If he did, he would’ve written it or not bothered to write asking Sherlock to visit at all.

He couldn’t have run faster to his rooms to start backing as soon as possible.

Plonk!

Sherlock Holmes had know idea what he was going to find in a land he had only heard stories from Watson’s childhood. He was eager to see his friend, to help him and to finally have an adventure.

01:35pm Friday 11th July 1890, Anglo Arabic Secondary School, Desh Bandhu Gupta Rd, Ajmeri Gate, Delhi.

You dragged the piece of white chalk across a black board and sketched a simple phrase in the English language. You smiled to the young faces that filled the room, sitting in long benches and desks. Their eyes wide and curious, eager to learn.

You waved your hands, “Now, clean your chalk slates students, you are going to learn how to spell good afternoon in English.”

They wipe them down with their small damp clothes and tucked them away in the groove at the top of their slanted desk. You waited patiently until they all sat with their hands resting flat on the wooden desks, mouths shut, eyes seeking knowledge.

You underlined each letter of the first word, “Gee, ouw, ouw, dee, this spells ‘Good’ and now ‘Afternoon’ is Aya, eff, tee, Ee, Ara, eynnn, ouw, ouw, eynn.”

The young boys sounded it out with you. Their sweet pubescent voices unionised. You smiled. They were so advanced at such a young age, most of the boys had come from average and wealthy families that could afford them to come to such a fine school. Many were Muslim, others Hindu, it was a good sign of peace. The youth coming together despite their differences. And on odd days you would teach the white children, boys and girls of British and French families who wanted their children to learn Hindi, Arabic and Urdu.

You didn’t mind teaching white children, some of the boys could be very disrespectful but you gathered it was behaviour picked up from their arrogant fathers. It wasn’t the young boys who had pillaged these lands, it was their fathers and grandfathers.

“The gee,” you circled the G, “Remember in English is also pronounced like Guh and,” you tapped the double o’s, “Ouw ouw in english together when two is said ‘oooowa’. Followed by dee being said as Dah. So, let’s say it together?”

You dragged a white line under the word and sounded it out with your students.

“Guh-oooow-dah.”

You smiled.

You repeated, “Good.”

“Now let’s look at the word ‘afternoon’,” you announced.

You cleaned the board and looked back at your students. One of the little boys who sat in the front was rubbing his eyes. You smiled softly. He was only six years old. His older brother, a young man now would most likely be the one to collect his brother from school and carry him sleeping back home. You looked at the bell tower just outside the window. It was nearly time for your students to go home and you to return back to your lodgings.

“Aye and eff is said as AAaff, then tee is a quick Tuh! And what is Ee and Arrra sound together children?”

“Errr,” they all purred.

You sounded out half of the word with them, “Aafftuherrr.”

You rubbed your chalk dust covered fingers together and further explained as you pointed to each important letter, “eynnn makes a Na, sound. And we just practiced double ouw, so sound it out.”

Like a symphony of speech, you all said together, “Guh-oooow-dah Aafftuherrr, Na-ooow-na. Good Afternoon.”

The deep bowing clang of the bells outside rang through the yard and open window shutters. The children looked eager to leave. Their hands were readily holding their slates, ready to put them inside the empty wooden box in the corner of the classroom where they kept all their slates and dusters and the bucket for where they kept their chalk.

“Good afternoon students,” You bided.

“Good afternoon Teacher Madam,” They called back.

“You may go back home now. Practise your English alphabet song.”

The boys were fast as rabbits, leaping from their desks and fleeing the classroom out the hall and down the stairs. But some at least saluted you as they left. It was a habit they’d picked up from the white boys who saluted their male teachers. You smiled to yourself as you waved them out. Each left with beaming smiles and playful chatter among themselves.

As you went about sweeping the floor after wiping the chalk from the board, you wondered if you should go to the temple and pray for your students successful education or if you should consider washing your clothing today. It had been very dry today, any moment and you knew the wet season and humid rain would arrive to flood the streets clean of dust and fill the forests with life of green goodness.

As you put away the English education books on the small shelves by the door, a familiar face came rushing in, flushed and excited

If it wasn’t her jingling anklet and bangle that announced her To your classroom, it was her shrill cry of your name that did.

“Y/N! Quick!” Miss Anjuli Paraiyars exclaimed, “You need to come with me.”

Her dark ink hair was peaking out from her sun patterned veil. The wispy curls stuck to her sweaty forehead and framed her dazzling walnut eyes. They were flooded with mischief that matched her biting lip. Her brows wriggled lightly.

Placing the last book onto the shelf you turned to acknowledge your dear friend.

“Anjuli,” you happily sighed, “Whatever is the matter?”

She waved her hands about, hoping to quicken you along and out the door, “It is the Watson son, Doctor Watson, he wants to speak with you with important news.”

Your eyes widened. ‘What on earth does that poor soul wish to say to me? After the death of the good Mr and Mrs Watson, I would assume he was still in mourning, why would he call upon me?’

Following your friend outside into the scorching sun, you lifted your saree over your head. She had her family Ox and cart waiting outside the school gates.

“What important news Anjuli?” You said a little standoffishly.

“He’s offering you a job,” She said giddily. She climbed up into the cart and leant down offering her hand to you. Once in the cart side by side she sighed, “That’s all he would tell me,” She grabbed the reigns and cane and tapped the Ox to start moving out onto the dirt road, “But we all know how very generous he can be like his dear parents.”

Anjuli was right. The late Victoria and Hamish Watson’s were angelic to the local community. Victoria had been the very soul to teach your late mother English and she was the one to encourage you to attain education enough to become one of the very few first female Indian teachers. She was a well known philanthropist, often aiding the sick and homeless and funding the Indian hospitals. Hamish was a local accountant, financial advisor and lawyer. He was known to be good to the children particularly. He would often hand out sweets as he walked down the street with his briefcase bag. He often aided the locals find new homes when the British planned to evict them and replace white families in their place. The English couple had lived in the country for many decades, long before you were even born. They spoke fluently enough and mimicked the culture so well that you could’ve believed they were born here themselves.

You sat back and nodded, “May their souls attain moksha.”

02:45pm Friday 11th July 1890, Willingdon Crescent, Central Ridge Forest, Delhi, India.

The sun baked down on the streets of Dehli. The Ox cart rolled along, it’s tail flicking the flies circling it’s flank every so often.

You pinches your saree scarf and covered your face before a bug could fly into your mouth.

Anjuli had to hold the reigns and cane, she leant closer to you and giggled as she nodded to the khaki covered soldiers. Walking by in many small groups.

Anjuli had a terrible habit, she fell in love too easily. For some ungodly reason Anjuli admired the foreigners that had come so long ago and invaded your beautiful country. Maybe she liked how different they looked. The flaxen hair and ice blue gazes in the faces of pale freaks were so opposite to the raven manes and hairy russet warmth of Indian men. It was erotic for her. You just didn't understand how she could so easily find infatuation with the people you considered an enemy, and so should she.

“Oh look at them,” she giggled girlishly.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m looking.” There was a timid strain in your voice. You had no real interest to entertain Anjuli’s fascination.

When Anjuli noticed how you in fact we’re not looking but rather looking ahead on the road path she playfully smacked your arm.

“Look!” She sucked her teeth and teasingly scolded, “Do you not know delight at the sight of men?” She reached forward and abruptly touched the front of your blouse, squeezing around for the softness of your breasts, “Are you sure you’re a full grown woman?” she smiled wickedly and prodded her finger in between your legs covered by your top petticoat.

You squeaked loudly and batted her hand. She howled with laughter and kept giggling even as you scowled at her beneath your veil.

You turned your head away from her and scoffed, “I am not as easily swayed by British soldiers. They look so sickly as pale as they are,” your nose wrinkled, “How could I righteously take a husband in front of beloved Lakshmi and her Vishnu when they look like they tempt Yama too take them at any moment?”

Your friend rolled her eyes, “Oh nonsense,” she tapped your hand and waved her fingers into a crowd of soldiers, “See there that one, his hair the colour of wheat, he is a handsome man. He would make a fine husband.”

And as the cart rolled passed, you couldn’t help gag at the smell of the same man Anjuli proclaimed would make a fine husband.

‘A fine swine perhaps. Many sow in heat could come trotting to him from miles with such a putrid scent.’

Your head wobbled and your flat palm waved at her, “A husbands good qualities are not to stand on his appearance alone. One day he will grow old, fat, bald and ugly.”

A long dragging sigh came out from the woman beside you. She managed to move both reigns into one hand and playfully tugged your saree away from your face

“You’re no fun, come on,” she jerked her chin out to the same street as the ox was about to pass another group, “Tell me you don’t find any of them a little attractive?”

You stared at the oncoming group and now sucked your teeth. You crudely stated, “They’d be far more attractive if they left. Went back to their lands, leave our villages and the people of Bharat in peace.”

Anjuli stared blankly at you. Before she could pinch and prod you again you relented and noticed one of the men in the crowd so different from the others.

He was tall, his hair a dark chestnut that matched the shade of his suit. His face was bare and clean in comparison to the soldiers who all adorned moustaches and muttonchop beards on their faces. He was carrying a rather large brief case and walking stick.

“Fine...that one,” you nodded, “In the brown English clothes.”

“The one wearing a suit?” Anjuli snickered, “He’s not a soldier though?”

You giggled,“And it is for such a reason I find he is most handsome among them.”

You both gazed at him as the ox fully passed by. Anjuli smiled at you.

“He is rather tall. Strong. What do you think he does?” She asked, “Maybe he is a farmer, or a bricklayer?”

You shook your head. ‘No. He couldn’t be.’

“He dresses too finely. It is not their Christian Sunday Sabbath today. He probably is a rich businessman, with a wife and children.”

You looked back to the path as the dusty road became thicker in trees and travel further away from the street. You thought about that strangers wife, what she might look like, probably some English rose with a house full of servants at her command, surrounded by maids and wet nurses for her children. She would live in a grand house and hold soiree’s, welcoming guests from all around to celebrate life. She would have a massive library and a place of worship. It was the life you should’ve had, the life you were owed and denied merely by the changing events of history and the extinguish of your father’s birthright.

Your soft smile faded; you felt a twinge of repulsion mixed with a hint of anger. You’d think after all these years you would’ve chosen to forget this, ignore this, let go and accept your circumstances in this life.... You didn’t live with your father anymore who would remind you practically daily why not to trust the English or any white man, as if you didn’t witness their subjecting abuse and consistent disrespect.

Your eyes fluttered shut, you reached to your side and touched Anjuli’s wrist. She was your truest friend despite her differences and low status. Anjuli came from a Shudra family, and you? You were the daughter, the descendant of Brahims and Kshatriyas...now lowered to the Shudra caste class…You never knew the lavish life of the Jhansi palace, nor tasted the rich foods served on golden plates and surrounded by pretty creatures of the palace menagerie. You would never know the joys of running through the gardens with other children in the royal family.

Everyone was gone, everything was gone. All that was left was your father who scarcely remembered that life but shared all he remembered so his memories would live on through you and bring you hope that one day it would be yours. It was a cruel false hope…

Eighteen years ago, you had been born inside of a nice house in Indore to the daughter of a prestige painter Vasudeoraobhau Bhatavdekar. As far as you knew, your father loved your mother very much for the incredibly brief time that they were married. A rare jewel in beauty is how he described her often. A marriage of love and choice. Your father said she was softly spoken and obedient, but it was her unconditional love for him and his dreams that held his heart in appreciation.

It was by unfortunate command that she would fall ill to childbed fevers after you were born. After you…a girl...not a son. You were nothing in the eyes of the British raj and had no chance of being installed as an heir for any restoration…you were the last hope and failed before your first breath. And that was something you’d never forget.

For a small time, you were raised in that home and then it was decided by your father that you would learn English. His tutors were not available, so he cut your hair short and shipped you off to Delhi with your young uncle Save to the Anglo Arabic Secondary School…It did not take the teachers and headmaster long to discover you were a girl. Before you were to receive the beating of a lifetime it was Mr Hamish Watson who so happened to be accounting the school costs to save you. He took you to his wife who taught you English and then set you to live with his maid servants, Anjuli’s mother.

Your friend spoke after some time of silence, “Oh, I’m meant to tell you- My cousin Vijay sent word this morning, he’s seeking a wife. My mother wants me to ask if you’d like to meet him, a prospective match.”

Your lips curled into a sneer, “Isn’t he the one that use to tie our braids together in a knot during Diwali and chase us around the street making animal noises?”

You recalled a young teenage boy about five years your senior with a tooth gap and ruffled hair. He was so annoying, calling you names and bullying you by calling you fat and ugly. He was spoilt and rude. He mocked you when you told him you were a princess. He said you were a princess of pimple pox and nothing more. Oh how you remembered the way your blood boiled.

“We were children, he was playing, only a boy,” she smiled, “He’s a man now, studying to be a barrister in Bombay but he will be visiting in a few weeks to help us move.”

Ah yes, the dilemma you needed to find a solution too soon. It was a month ago that a letter had been nailed to the house door, it was an eviction commandment made by the British military and government. The Paraiyars family and you had to leave the home in Raisina hill, why? Because the British do what they like…building concrete monstrosities over beautiful land and demolishing the history of your people like it was worthless dust. Rumours spread about a grand governors palace was to be built there, but they couldn’t burn the village to ash with people living inside...well....at least not on their "morally good Christian conscious."

“Vijay I believe owns a cottage near the seaside. You could be his bride and live with him instead of moving back to Indore to your father.”

Moving back was not possible...not after his most recent letter.

“Father has…felt it improper for me to move back to Indore. He believes that my existence would cause me more harm than good under his jailers’ eyes…His pension he shares I give mostly to your mother for board. I have saved my wages, I am considering…moving to a boarding workhouse in Jhansi or Agra, but tell your mother I would like to greet Vijay when he arrives…”

You smirked looking down at your fingernails, “Lakshmi forbid I run out of money and need to resort to the ‘charity’ of Christians or to prostitution.”

Anjuli made a face, shaking her head and brushed her shoulder into yours, “You wrinkle your nose at every man, white, black or bronze,” she smiled cheekily, “I doubt you’d make a good prostitute.”

“Anjuli!” You shrieked.

Both you and her erupted into a large happy shrill of giggles enough to gain head turns from passing public. You and her playfully poked your elbows into each other. Anjuli was right, there was no chance that you could make a suitable prostitute…you hadn’t had sex and didn’t know how to please a man, most men you barely liked. They could be selfish. Anjuli on the other hand, she was a frisky thing. She had kissed a hundred men and given her ‘precious flower’ to a boy back when she was thirteen. She had no shame. Anjuli had shared her sordid tales of lust to you many times. You knew her boyfriends that snuck her out at night and returned her by morning. You promised never to tell her mother or father who surely would’ve disowned her if they knew how promiscuous she was. It was best if they believed she made money with her parents in the markets selling dyed clothes and wooden jewellery boxes.

03:04pm Friday 11th July 1890, 5 Bistdari Road, Central Ridge Forest, Delhi, India.

Arriving to the Watson Bungalow was simple enough, the ox cart rolled and bumped over the rock and sandy grooves of the path. Anjuli pulled the reigns of her beast and helped you both down. She tied her ox to the outside gate posts, the precious creature lowered its head and munched on dry grass that still was hinted in green. The ox would be glad as soon the wet season would hit and all the food delight lush and green would return.

You and Anjuli stepped inside and removed your sandals, Anjuli then led you through the house. It had been some time since you had been here. Anjuli’s mother was dismissed as Mrs Victoria Watson’s maid when the new Watson bride had arrived.

Doctor Watson, their son was a short ferrety man. His face was covered in a long mutton mustache like a snake of hair slithering along his face. He was a grown man from the teenager you had met many years ago. His parents had sent him to Europe to school, as far as you were aware he had join the army and fought in some notorious war battles like The of Battle of Abu Klea.

As you entered the bureau office, you found him hunched over some paperwork, his brows scrunched. His eyes lifted up and brightened his face on seeing you both.

“Oh Miss Paraiyars, Anjuli dear,” he said clapping his hands and opening a drawer in his desk, “Thank you so much dear for bringing darling Miss Newalkar here. Here,” he handed Anjuli a small bag and slipped four rupees into her hand, “and take these sweets back to your Mataji, Mrs Paraiyars.”

Anjuli put her hands together and smiled, wobbling her head before leaving you alone to return outside back to her ox cart.

You had your hands pressed together peacefully while the doctor hobbled over to you from around the desk. He was smiling brightly and nodded his head to you, offering you a chair in front of the desk.

“Y/N thankyou for coming on such short notice. I requested your presence in person to offer you a job position.”

Your smile fell, you sheepishly explained to the man, “I am currently employed at the Anglo school Doctor, Babu.”

The doctor nodded, “Yes…Anjuli tells me you are still teaching the children English and Hindi?”

“Yes Doctor Babu,” you confirmed.

“How much are you paid per month?” he asked quickly, touching his lips lightly in thought.

“Twenty five rupees,” you said softly, you didn’t dare try to sound prideful.

The doctor smiled and pulled out a piece paper contract, he then stated, “I will pay you a hundred per month.”

Your eyes widened, and then narrowed. It was too spectacular to be true, it sounded Impossible. Your fathers pension was only a hundred and fifty rupees a year, for the doctor to give you a hundred per month was unfathomable wealth. What on earth was he wanting from you!?

“What is the position,” you swallowed breathlessly, “Doctor Babu?”

“Housekeeper and…a carer,” he sighed, “I need you to live here, and watch over one of my friends. He is from England and I am afraid he might not understand the customs here.”

He leant against the desk cocking his head and looking down at his feet awkwardly. “Please,” he begged, “he is different to other men. He is particular and perhaps rather spoilt. I need you to make sure he doesn’t get lost, harmed or too upset. It is pressing that I should return to my wife in Agra. I would have hired Mrs Paraiyars, in fact I did offer this role to her, but I have been informed she will be moving and her English is not as it once was…and my English friend is rather…particular and impatient with broken speech...”

He wrote a signature across the bottom of the document and held it out for you to read. It was real…your mouth watered. You could save more than your regular wage and easily move back to Indore without burdening your father or mother’s family.

“If you accept my offer, you may live here as a free lodging, you recall where the servant quarters are I am sure? You will also receive a handsome budget for food. And-” he paused looking up and pocketing the cheque, he gasped, “Sherlock! Dear god man! Did you walk here from the train station?!”

You turned around in the chair and took in the sight of a familiar looking soul.

He was the gentleman from the road. The supposed businessman with his briefcase. He was taller standing here with you then when you sat above in the ox cart. He was standing in the doorway to the office. He stepped inside and lowered his walking stick and briefcase.

“My friend,” the handsome stranger gleefully called, “My dear John Watson, I came the moment I read your message. One of the khaki coated lads pointed me here.”

Up close now you could observe his features on a better judgement. Sherlock Holmes was well known in the British gazette for his distinct physical appearance. With his broad angular frame, sharp hard features, and mighty frame, he exuded a striking and intimidating aura that commanded respect. He reminded you of warriors you imagined before bed in story's of battles your father described at Jhansi Fort.

His face was marked by a strong, sharp pointed nose and intense, deep-set sapphire eyes. His hair was kept combed and short below his ears short and slicked back, revealing his angular eyebrows, and his pink lips that were tightly pursed. He wore a grand brown suit coat with a crisp white shirt, and woolen sweater vest beneath it. And at the base of his throat was a dark burgundy tie. Something about the time reminded you of blood. A cut throat. You felt cold.

His eyes smoothly shifted to you and your presence, his lips parted softly, he glanced back at John, “A patient of yours Doctor?”

The moustached man bristled and shook his head, he stuttered and leant his hand out to you. you carefully chose to take it and rise from the chair as he introduced you.

“Oh- I- Sherlock…um, Sherlock Holmes, I would like you to meet Miss Y/N Newalkar.”

“Miss Newalkar,” the doctor waved his hand over the figure of the giant stock of a man, “This is the very gentleman I was informing you about. This is my friend Detective Sherlock Holmes.”

You pressed your hands together and nodded in greeting. One of Sherlock’s brows raised and his lips hardened in a straight line.

Doctor Watson explained back to the detective, “I was in the middle of discussing whether this dear lady would like to accept a role of housekeeping during your stay here.”

“Whatever for?” Sherlock snickered, “Is your lady wife not up to par with her duties?” he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on his leather shoes while his eyes scanned all the way down to your bare feet. It was a crude look of judgement. The westerner seemed to forget not everyone shared the same styles and habits here. You tried not to roll your eyes at him as he scanned your arms and the parts of your belly that the saree did not cover. Those dark blue orbs crawled up and settled over your faux sweetened smiling face.

“Some…plans have come up unexpectedly. Mary is back in Agra, staying safe with her family,” John stated, his fingers rubbed together, “I need to be with her. And the hospitals are in desire of my services as a surgeon. I ask that you will look around, see if you can find anything here…” he leant in closer and whispered to the man, “I will visit every couple of days, to check up on you and see if there is truth to be founded in my suspicions.”

'Suspicions?'

“John…” the detective pat his friends shoulder, “I am happy to see you. I promise I will do my very best.”

“Thankyou,” said the doctor.

Sherlock jerked his chin to your direction, “How much does the dear girl here know?”

“Well, I…not much,” the doctor blushed and looked back to you, “Miss Newalkar, your thoughts on the job position role?”

You swallowed and nodded slowly, “I accept the conditions, thankyou for your most gracious offering, Doctor Babu.”

The doctor smiled and carefully touched your back, leading you to the exist of his office as he happily stated.

“Splendid! Please, this is the contract. Sign it and return with your belongings later on a few hours while I converse with my friend and guest.”

You looked back at the mysterious Sherlock Holmes and back to the contract. You wobbled your head in goodbye and went on your way. The way you could feel his eyes over your body walking away made you shiver. He was a intimidateding looking man. You left the home and slipped your sandals on.

You thought about how you would now be the housekeeper of a prestigious British family in the community. A wave of relief to your stability washed over you. You didn’t need to crawl to your father and your mother’s family. You started smiling ear to ear. All you needed to do was take care of a house and baby-sit an Englishman who was vulnerable to these new lands.

“Did you see him go in?” Anjuli smirked from the ox cart, waving you over, “The British man you fancied?”

You jerked your chin up proudly exclaiming, “I met him.”

Your friend gasped with a wide smile, “What is he like?”

“I don’t really know,” you shrugged before waving the contract in front of your friends face, “but I am going to be his housekeeper, I need to inform the school of my resignation.”

Anjuli looked at the contract, she couldn't read english but made a light sad sound and sucked her teeth before sighing, “Oh, those children will miss you dearly.”

And that you could both agree. You grabbed the ox reigns and tapped its flank with the cane rolling back to the school again quickly to collect your last wage.

Helplines:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

108 notes · View notes

mamayan · 8 months

Text

Don’t Cry: Part 2

Yandere Giyuu Tomioka x Fem! Reader

I love him so much~

Don’t Cry: Part 1

TW: Yandere themes•NSFW•Lying Giyuu•Slight Violence•Vanilla Sex•Sweet Submissive Giyuu•Fem! Reader•Implied Virginity Loss

I’ve been spelling his damn name wrong and I only realized when I read it in Hiragana and was like “cool cool, I gotta edit my other works of him now!”

Tags: @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi @sunandflame @giyuuzas

Once you’d bathed, courtesy of the sweet little girls who aided you earlier, you were promptly put to bed in clean clothes. Your swordsman sitting beside the bed, staring off into space but it was having a human presence which comforted you. The small bed didn’t allow for more than one body, but inwardly you cringed at the urge to drag him into it with you despite how close you’d need to be with him. It might also be because you’d need to be so close. Confusion and embarrassment swirled within you, your mind racing despite your body beginning to give into fatigue. Your eyes were heavy, struggling to stay awake long enough to sort the complicated emotions waring inside of you.

“Giyuu…” your voice was a little hoarse as you whispered his name.

“Yes?” His head turned and looked over at you, demeanor relaxed and confident, his eyes speaking more words than his lips.

Are you alright? You imagined him wanting to ask, but he likely already knew the answer was no. You didn’t ask the multitude of questions you had, because now you weren’t sure you even truly wanted to know. Instead, you asked for something simple.

“Will you hold my hand?” and he watched as your own soft one slipped from beneath the blanket. His eyes were darker in the dimly lit room, cast over by the red glow of the lamp and making his gaze nearly like the bottom of the sea. Black. His skin even paler in contrast.

His hand gingerly moved before it enveloped yours. Larger, warmer, and much rougher than your own. It was like you could safely breathe again with the contact, your tense muscles and knotting insides loosening as you squeezed his hand. He gave one back, looking at you with a half lidded gaze, and for a moment you were struck with envy because how had you never noticed his lashes were so long and thick? He was prettier than he ought to be, but it certainly didn’t lessen the masculine appeal. You briefly remembered, before he’d become twisted and abducted you, a time you’d seen him like a friend. You were more outgoing than him, more willing to speak up and initiate, and in this subtle moment of stillness, you asked a question which seemed both probable and ridiculous.

“Do you like me?” it felt wrong to speak too loudly.

You carefully observed his impassive expression. Giyuu didn’t tell you much nor did his face show how he felt, but his actions were pages in a story itself. He told you through weeks of bringing your favorite foods to you. He told you through small gifts and trinkets. He told you through acts of service and time spent beside you. It just didn’t make any sense. You were certainly the most horrendous creature when he’d taken you prisoner, snide and cruel with your tongue and even cruder with your disdainful actions of dumping hard prepared meals to the ground and stomping them. He was patient though, and while the weeks of isolation occasionally drove you to the brink of madness, you realize it must’ve not been intentional if he’d left to perform his obligations to the people. His burden so heavy and lifted alone.

“Hn,” he nodded, a noise of affirmation which shocked you silly. You truly didn’t expect an actual answer. Possibly just a look, which would leave you micro-analyzing it until you could somewhat satisfy yourself with an answer which proved plausible.

“Why…?” This wasn’t a self deprecating question, you weren’t asking as if you didn’t know your own lovability, but because you never let yourself be as such. Even when you’d first met and the relationship was forming, you’d never left any question that you’d not been looking for a lover. Your actions and words keeping a firm divide between you and everyone else. Especially Giyuu.

So why? Why form the attachment? Why look closer? Why want?

Why save me…? But those words were left unspoken.

His grip tightened around your hand, not painfully, but enough that you realized you weren’t looking at him anymore. Your eyes focused on the edge of the bed. You glanced back up, into those vast pools you wondered if someday might drown you in the sorrow they held.

His lips parted, pausing for a moment, but his brows furrowed and he seemed to have to force the words out.

“Because it’s you,” he murmured, somber tone not letting you become irritated at his vague response, letting him finish instead. “It’s you who reached your hand out first… who was there for me even if you didn’t notice I was suffering…” you hung on every word like a hook to keep you tethered to world around you.

“It was you who told me to live.” His expression changed, looking much like the tragedy he sealed within those dark blue orbs, and it was filled with a kind of loathing.

“Even though I’m weak—,” you wanted to tell him he’s wrong, “-and the people closest to me died while I lived on,” it’s not your fault but the words died in your throat, “—you told me to live.” His eyes were harder, more convicted and less overflowing with the loathing you realized was towards himself.

You didn’t remember telling him such words, maybe it was when you’d found him injured, marks adorning him with what you now realized marked his path on an endless journey of pain and loneliness.

You’d go crazy too. You’d do reckless and self destructive things as well.

You weren’t sure where it came from, fear perhaps? A desperation to believe in him with finally enough evidence to convince yourself it’s not wrong? Whatever the case, carefully you lifted your torso up, the blanket falling off your shoulders as you used your grip on him as leverage to pull him close. Your free hand dug into the fabric of his clothes, clean despite a battle that shook your entire world, as you tugged until he relented and leaned close so you could kiss him.

You should feel wrong. You don’t.

His lips are thin but soft, and he’s pliant as you essentially manhandle him to lean completely over you. His elbows now braced on either side of you as you snake your arms around his neck and let the scary world fade away. You weren’t the sort to hide behind a man and cower, and tomorrow you’d put up a brave front despite the cowardice and fear that has beholden you, but for now you let him drape over you. His presence such a comfort you can’t seem to recall a time it hadn’t been. There was a time, but it wasn’t rising to ruin the moment.

Neither was Giyuu, who was albeit visibly startled, but obediently giving you control as you tested different pressure with your lips.

He seemed to finally find his bearing though, as he broke the kiss and pulled up just enough to connect your eyes again. He was flushed, cheeks warm as he shyly regarded you.

“Is this for comfort or…?” he was hesitant and a look of guilt perhaps flashed through his gaze, but it warmed you further and caused the itch in your chest to spread as you tightened your hold on him to prevent escape.

Not like he was making even the barest attempt.

“Because…” he looked at you with his full attention.

“Because it’s you…” and it was enough. His eyes widening a fraction before you leaned up again to kiss him, this time with more passion. Giyuu didn’t speak or express himself much, but his actions did. This time, your actions spoke, as your fingers moved up his neck and into his hair. He made a noise, deep in his throat, but you were too focused on the softness of his hair. The fluffy thick strands easily allowing you a grip as you gently tugged.

He kissed you back harder, and while it felt a bit awkward, you felt even more desperate to touch him. You’d heard hushed gossip before, the acts between lovers, and you experimented as you licked his bottom lip. The shiver which wracked his body not slipping from your notice as you did it again, and then nipped.

“You…” he sounded slightly breathless, but his narrowing gaze telling as you teased him. You were merciful, as you finally slipped your tongue into his willing mouth, and this time he moaned. The shiver went up your spine this time, the noises he made going straight to your core as your grip in his hair and around his neck increased fractionally. It was odd and sensational all at once. His tongue not as aggressive or dominant as yours but still responsive and eager as he kissed you back, his hands still perfectly where he left them.

It was you exploring him. Hands softly trailing down his back, before moving over his shoulders and chest, the hard plains of his body undeniable.

This was not cold and stoic Giyuu, cruelly leaving you all alone. This was warm and responsive Giyuu relinquishing to your desires as you eagerly arched your back to press closer to him even as a zap of pain shot up your ankle.

It was easy to ignore as your body heated up, fingers gripping and tugging as you pushed his haori off his shoulders.

He pulled back fully, having partially fallen out of his chair and onto you at this point, taking his haori off completely and setting it gently in the chair as he fully climbed above you to settle. Silent and balmy, his eyes without a single ripple in the sea they held in their depths. His black uniform, one which you realized matched everyone else’s, was rumpled and creased from your pulling at the fabric.

You let your hands wander, up his forearms, over his collarbone where his hair was spilling out of the tie he used to keep it back, and around his neck. He didn’t stop you or pull away, as you let his pulse beat beneath your hands and for a moment, you felt like you held his heart between your fingers.

“I hated you…” you confessed softly, and while you felt more than saw him flinch, he didn’t move or speak besides that.

“I thought you were crazy, cruel for taking me without permission and even crueler when you’d leave me alone for so long but…” your eyes flicked up to meet his, pooling with guilt and sadness. “Giyuu, do you think we could start over differently?” Your hands roamed the smooth skin of his neck up to to cup his jaw. His lips were set into a firm line, dark gaze serious as it locks with your own.

He seems to melt in your hands, his eyes nearly closing completely as he leans a little weight into you. He resembled a cat momentarily, those upturned eyes a bit sharper when not fully open.

“I would be grateful… to love you not so shamefully.” Your heart nearly stopped at such a confession.

He said love… not like.

Did you love him? It felt difficult to breathe, as you answered yourself easily.

No. You didn’t love him. In truth, there was a deeper part of you terrified of him, because he possessed strength and skills which rendered you pathetically at his mercy. If he were weaker, you’d have escaped him long ago. No, you didn’t love him, but when he let you do as you pleased with him… well, you certainly liked him like this. Pretty and obedient to what you wanted. Relaxed and languid like a juggle cat, silent and graceful but watching.

As you pressed yourself up against him, whispering in his ear your request, he didn’t hesitate with you. Gentle as always, he switched your positions, careful of your injured foot as he settled you atop of him. You got to look down on him now, the light shifting to brighten his features and ease the sharp lines and shadows which cast him in a dangerous atmosphere.

He looked… harmless like this. As if he hadn’t slaughtered a demon like one might swat a fly.

You knew logically you shouldn’t be doing this. As your hands move over his chest, more intent on removing clothing than anything else though. Deftly popping buttons and opening up his top, a smooth pale chest revealing itself to your eyes.

Your brain cried that you were simply touch starved, shocked and slightly traumatized from the events of the last day, and completely run by hormones and pent up frustration.

You were not thinking with your brain tonight though, not as your eyes drank in the sight of the beautiful male beneath you. His flushed skin, heavy breathing and somewhat shy gaze was enough to have you feeling ravenous.

“Sit up,” you murmur softly, pleased as he listens, letting you remove his top and push him back down, climbing a bit higher to return your lips to his. He’s littered in old scars, some more silvery and healed than others, his body refined by tightly corded muscles which had no give. He was harder than steel yet incredibly soft where he wasn’t marred by either training or demons. You kissed him deeper and with more meaning now, and as you cupped his cheek to turn his head, you delighted in the husky groan he released as you licked and sucked at his neck. His shiver leading you to an especially sensitive area, where you mercilessly left your mark.

As you sat back on him more fully, aware of the dull throb of your ankle and grateful for the extra medicine you’d been given, you take him in. He’s more covered in softly sucked bruises and little bite marks than scars anymore, unable to hide the reddened skin as he looks up at you patiently, docile gaze betrayed by the death grip he has on the bed sheet. Visibly struggling not to touch you too.

It wound you up tighter.

“You can’t touch me until I tell you to.” He hadn’t and likely would not even if you didn’t vocalize it, but he didn’t miss the teasing glint in your eyes. His smile indulgent and contagious as he nods, staying perfectly still as you loosen your robes and allow the top to slip away and reveal your upper body. Giyuu took a sharp intake of breath, lips parting as you allow him to take you in.

Less embarrassed by his reverent eyes.

“So pretty…” his praise further emboldened you, as you teased him further by touching yourself. Your hands dragging up your stomach and to your breasts, where you lightly rolled your nipples as they hardened. He wasn’t blinking. The once cool room becoming much, much warmer with you both radiating heat and unrepressed lust. You moved gently down his body, cautious with your own as you settled your center directly over his erection still covered by his pants.

“Ngh,” he huffs, his head digging into the pillow as you grind down, clothes and friction your ally as you murmur in pleasure.

“Feel good Giyuu?” You’d abandoned your teasing show in favor of chasing the ache building inside you. You could tease him later, maybe tie his wrists and see how confident you became as you made him beg for you, but you wanted more now.

“It does, you do,” he quickly affirmed, his eyes a bit hazy as they look up at you. Your image reflected almost like a mirror through his glassy eyes. He couldn’t help bucking up from beneath you, putting a little more pressure and it earned him the gift of hearing you moan.

The first trickles of pleasure addicting as he did it again.

“Stop.” He stilled, looking a bit startled and cautious before you smiled in reassurance. Although it wasn’t comfortable and your muscles were stiff and achy, you held your weight off of him so you could work at the tie keeping his pants up. “I’ll do it.” You assured as you caught his hand move to help out of the corner of your eye.

“Hn,” he quickly set his hand back where it was, though his punishing grip on the sheet returned.

You didn’t love him, but if he stayed like this beneath you, it wasn’t difficult to imagine such a day would come sooner rather than later.

Your previous interactions always wrong because you never took lead and it was painfully obvious now that he was waiting on that. The only lead he ever took was taking you, and the reason being your safety above all else was difficult to hate.

He took your nonverbal cue to lift his hips, letting you drag his opened pants down along with his undergarment.

His cock was just about as pretty as him you noted. Your body slightly trembling as your arousal spiked, hand confidently gripping him in your fist as he jolted and choked on a moan.

“Ah,” he grit his teeth, your grip not very tight but it was the sensitivity of his cock which heightened the sensation of having you touch him.

“So pretty Giyuu, am I hurting you?” Your tone nearly purred as he takes you in.

He didn’t say it out aloud. He didn’t say a lot of things out loud, but this was the most animated he’d ever seen you. Gaze hungry and full of want and it was directed at him. Your teasing smile and soft hands were all for him in this moment. He felt like he was floating, as you began a steady pump, plump little tongue darting out to wet your lips and he felt mildly shameful as a whine left him. The image in his mind filthy as he struggled to stay still like you’d told him. To not touch you even though you looked so soft and he was damned because he wanted to hold you close.

You’d never been so forward with him, and it solidified every action he took as right, because this felt too wonderful to be wrong.

He was sweating, struggling to think and if he wasn’t so good at controlling his breathing, he would’ve came already.

His lips quivered but his watery gaze would not look away as you slid your fingers up his cock, following the velvety skin and slight curve of it, and only dancing the tips over the head of his cock before falling down over a vein which had his muscles locking painfully to stay still.

His face was even redder holding the noises in.

“Do you like when I touch you Giyuu?” You whispered to him like lovers might exchange secrets.

He shook, stoic facade gone and replaced by a young man terribly desperate for more and entirely unsure how to get it.

“Hn, y-yes, but—,” he couldn’t speak and not let out the moans and loud puffs of air escaping his lungs. He truly couldn’t look away at you smeared his precum over his cock and used it as lubricant to better stroke him.

“But…?” You drawled, head tilted cutely and he was mildly baffled by how calm and steady you looked now. Like the roles were entirely reversed, and it set his heart pounding aggressively within the confines of his chest. He felt nervous but excited, because despite all else, your eyes were on him. Your hands were on him. You were quite literally on top of him. He couldn’t want for much else.

Your hand stopped moving, and he could care less of shame or embarrassment as he whined pathetically. He was nearly tearing holes into the mattress.

“Please,” he choked, nearly dying in relief when your hand once again moved only to stop again. His heels dug into the bed.

“Please what Giyuu? You need to use your words right now.” He felt this might’ve been revenge, for all the times he’d been unable to answer you in the past, but now if he didn’t answer then there were consequences. Like your hands not being on him.

Words seemed a lot easier when given an ultimatum.

“Please don’t stop touching my cock and please don’t stop touching me,” it was said in pure desperation and with such conviction it startled you. Your pretty eyes widening, and Giyuu felt flooded with emotion as you became even more vibrant above him. Your smile so lovely it would’ve dropped him to his knees if he were standing.

The smile he was always so desperate to protect and keep entirely to himself. He’d given up long ago on the notion of letting you go. He couldn’t. Not then and especially not now as you tightened your grip and began stoking him again.

He truly lost it when you lewdly spit down onto him, slicking his cock up further until an audible squelch filled the small medical room as you pumped him closer to his finish.

“Such a pretty cock, it really matches you Giyuu. Look, your face is as red as the tip,” he couldn’t stop himself.

“Please let me cum, I need—fuck, ah, please,” his scrunched up features lovely, and you couldn’t help tightening your grip as you grinned.

“Okay Giyuu, go ahead, make a mess.”

Your permission and actions had his hot cum flooding from the tip and coating your hand and himself. The raw pleasure leaving him shaking and lost as he moaned and panted, eyes widening almost panicked because your hand was still moving.

“—!, wait, please—,” he almost broke and touched you, to grip your wrist and remove it from him as the pleasure became borderline painful.

“No, you can come again.” The firm way you spoke made him squirm, gritting his teeth as his face twisted and he really did come again because it was too much. His hiss of pleasure and pain delirious as his eyes shut to block any further stimuli. He came less, but still his seed seeped out and over, you released his cock and watched a pearly bead slide slowly down his shaft as it lay against his abdomen now. Smearing his own release on his stomach.

His eyes were teary, tired, and so precious.

“You did so good,” your praise and sugary tone filled him with warmth.

His answer filled you similarly, “Thank you.” His voice a little hoarse. His gratitude open and honest as you leaned over him to kiss him again. Softer and sweeter than your earlier teasing and overstimulation.

You could feel him hardening again beneath you, twitching as you swirled your tongue languidly with his own, pulling back occasionally and adoring how quickly he followed.

It made your subconscious relax, to have this man submitting for you.

You didn’t touch him, instead carefully leaning on one arm and using the free one to untie your robes completely and let them slip off your waist. Leaving you as naked as him.

You didn’t let him look, too lost in exploring his mouth and breathing him in. His minty scent more muted after mixing with his sweat and making him have a deeper woodsy quality to it.

Your hand, still sticky with his cum, moved to lightly trace over your clit. The spark of pleasure sharper as you moaned into the kiss, Giyuu’s own groan following as he realized what you were doing.

He broke the kiss this time, but his face was so desperate and eager as he begged.

“Let me, please, I want to touch you too—,” you cut him off.

“No.” You smirked, loving how enthralled he looked as he watched you touch and tease yourself. You were already so wet, just from making him feel good and fall apart for you. The low wet noises of you running your fingers through your folds and testing a finger inside your hole clearly audible thanks to his good hearing. Watching was different though, as you stuffed yourself with two fingers, despite his own being wider and longer.

It took him a moment to realize which hand you used.

“Fuck,” he nearly snarled, face scrunched in a look of both agony and euphoria.

“Do you like seeing me use your cum to finger myself?” Your throat felt tight, the lewd act turning you on further as he seemed to struggle.

“You’re so beautiful, fuck, I need to touch you please,” he didn’t say aloud that he also wanted to cum inside you too. A small part of him nervous it’d drive you into denying him to further to make him beg more. “I want to feel you now, so use me…please,” your steady movements inside your pussy stopping as you considered his offer. An idea formed.

“Give me your hand,” you ordered, and his right was in your awaiting palm in an instant. You gripped his wrist, drawing his hand to your wet heat and smiling even as you moaned and shivered, his gaze too focused on your directions.

You let him slip in one finger, and then another, sighing into the stretch and rocking your hips forward.

“Can you stay still?” You asked.

He nodded, though most of his focus was elsewhere as he relished the feeling of your tight hot walls pulsing around his fingers and squeezing.

You less bounced and more rolled, letting his long fingers touch and reach where you previously could not, as your free hand moved to your clit. You moaned freely, not mindful in the least because your room was so far removed from the the rest of the mansion it hardly mattered. It felt so good, and when his fingers shifted just a little to curl more comfortably, they hit the perfect spot that had your toes curling on your uninjured foot. “Oh, Giyuu, don’t move,” you felt close, your own fingers playing with your clit and hastening your release.

You came hard, your head thrown back as your hips shook.

Giyuu��s hand was soaked in your release, fingers still obediently inside you and still as you came down from your high.

The pleasure slightly washed by pain, your ankle throbbing but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. Not when everything felt right like this. Giyuu was similarly mesmerized, your figure above him riding through your orgasm and the way your cunt clamped and spasmed around his fingers making him even hotter. He wanted to feel that around his cock too.

“My love,” his saccharine words caught your focus, heavy eyes tiredly but kindly regarding him. That was everything to him, the festering wound in his heart from all your previous rejections seeming to heal with just that look. “May I…? Please, I want to be inside—ah,” you either took mercy or lost patience, not entirely sure. You wrapped a hand around his cock and easily lined yourself up, his blue eyes widening as you let yourself sink down.

Giyuu doesn’t have a cock which instills fear or disappointment. Though much thicker than than he is impressively long, he still stretched you almost painfully as you took him inside of you. You panted, taking each inch slowly as your sweat slid down the curve of your spine and cooled. Despite the pinch and mild initial discomfort, the image of Giyuu beneath you looking ruined made it all worth it. He seemed to be both suffering and ascending, muscles taunt and he finally did tear the sheet.

“Fuck so tight, ngh,” he nearly bit his tongue when his tip touched the farthest point inside of you, kissing your cervix gently. His voice pitched higher than normal, almost boyish in quality as he fought to keep his eyes open and on you. He didn’t want to look away, to miss the way your own face scrunched and struggled for a moment. Then you settled and stilled, gooey walls encasing his cock like a hot vice and driving him wild.

“Please please, I need—,” he would’ve given you his damn life if you asked for it at this point. When a few warm tears finally escaped their pools, you chuckled and reached out to wipe them away.

“Okay, you can—mm, you can touch me now.” It was nearly amusing how relieved he appeared. His normally impassive expression so far removed from this man now. He was extremely expressive it seemed, when he was being overwhelmed with pleasure.

His hands were tentative as they ghosted over your outer thighs, the clammy feel of his palms adorable when he finally used pressure to hold on to your hips.

He didn’t do anything further than let his hands slide over your skin, over your stomach and up to your breasts where he mimicked how you touched yourself earlier. It had you bearing down and making him moan and twitch beneath you. It felt better, the sensation of being so full no longer as alien as you tested with a roll of your hips.

It earned you both a shock of pleasure, your moan deeper than his own.

You did it again, before finally using what little strength you hand in your legs to lift and sink down onto him.

“You’re so deep Giyuu,” you still had energy to look victorious though. Pride sparkling on your face as you grinned, looking too cheeky and lovely for your own good.

You set a very slow rhythm, not out of choice but more because it was all you could offer. Giyuu didn’t seem to mind, his flushed cheeks and reddened eyes looking directly up at you as you moved. The sticky and warm wet mess coating you both from your releases making the glide smooth and painless.

It dried a bit on your inner thighs and cooled on his heavy balls as you moaned and used his chest as leverage to lean your weight onto him. Your shaky movements slowing further as you lost your breath. It felt amazing now, but frustration mounted the harder it seemed to become to chase your release. Your body too exhausted and weakened to contribute as you liked.

You shouldn’t have been as shocked as you were when he spoke. “Can I move too please my love?” He wasn’t looking for control, but to ease the furrow in your brow as you trembled from muscle failure. You nodded in relief, moaning happily as his hips shifted to hit even deeper and began to buck beneath you. He didn’t ground you further to him though, despite being tempted to do so. His hands on your hips shifted to lightly rest on your ass and no more. He still kept the languid pace you’d originally set, and you cried out as the tension inside of you grew higher. You did your best to move with him, expressing how pleased you were with small kisses across his chest and neck, moving to finally take his lips as one hand tangled in his hair again.

The light wet noises of your bodies moving echoed, the sloppy kiss you shared matching in intensity as you breathed and relished in his choked whines and gasps.

“You feel so good…” he murmured against your lips, cock twitching and aching to spill inside you, barely holding off release to feel you tighten and come apart too. “Please, I’m close, may I…?” His voice husky.

“Giyuu too, your cock is so warm and thick. Do you want to cum inside me?” He moaned, burying his face in your neck as you giggled and gasped when his tip hit a new spot inside you. “Oh yes, right there—,” you ground down to force him harder into the spongey area, his breathing getting deeper and more strained as he worked to move his cock in that spot exactly how you wanted it. “Fuck, love, I can’t— please let me cum,” he was close to crying again, really and truly ready to sob because it hurt to hold off.

“Harder, so good for me Giyuu, not yet—I’m close,” your praise made his head dizzy, but when you said you were close and finally did come, he nearly passed out because he forgot to breathe. Hot tears spilling again as he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Yes,” you moaned long and loud, “—go ahead and cum, that’s it, fill me up baby,” you weren’t sure where this side of you came from. Whether it was innate or because he seemed to crave it, it hardly mattered. You encouraged him as you came apart, feeling his cock twitch and pulse as he whined and let go at last.

White hot pleasure flooded you both, but you more literally as he came inside and his hips stuttered up into you even deeper. His pubic bone and hair digging into the sensitive skin of your clit and driving your pleasure higher.

You collapsed against him, limp on his chest as he caught his breath and came back to earth.

Giyuu noted you were completely asleep. Breathing even and your features relaxed.

He allowed himself to hold you close for a few minutes, basking in the heaven of having you willingly in his arms.

His hand coming up to trace your jaw and cheek, then your nose and lips. His smile so real and genuine as he looked at you.

You were cleaned up thoroughly, a warm clean cloth used to get you both semi-decent as he redressed you carefully. You didn’t even stir.

He felt mildly guilty he kept you awake like this, but too happy with what occurred to feel much else. Once he’d cleaned up, ignoring the holes he created in the fabric of the bed, he placed you once more on his chest to sleep, his hand moving over your head to pet your hair down as listen and feel your heart beat against his own.

He’d done something terrible to you again, but really, he couldn’t muster up the same feelings of guilt he once felt in the past.

Your ankle would heal, and the priest was a necessary evil. You were safe in his arms now, weren’t you?

#Demon Slayer #Giyuu Tomioka smut #KNY Giyuu smut #18+#Yandere Giyuu Tomioka #Sub! Giyuu Tomioka #Fem! Reader x Giyuu Tomioka #yandere Giyuu x reader #x reader #kimestu no yaiba #kny Giyuu Tomioka #kny yandere #water hashira #part 2 #I finally spelled his name right

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nishloves · 9 months

Text

plethora 2; choi seungcheol

(n.) abundance

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (coming soon)

important to read part 1!

advisable to read the prologue and introduction of "seventeen dating simulator".

words : 8k approx

warnings : curse words, implied sex (not descriptive and not highly suggestive so 16+), action — injuries, blood and mentions of death.

[ kindly refer to the prologue for accurate sequences of all the stories in the series <3 ]

genre : fluff / com / angst / action / royal au / fantasy au

cameo of other members will be present!

tags : @kflixnet @icyminghao @dearharshii @feat-sun @belladaises @bmkgemz @desi-brownie

You sighed as you worked on the new ideas put forward by the princess who wasn't as dumb as Seungcheol made her out to be. You wondered why Seungcheol asked you if you liked him two days ago, but you figured he must have had some drink instead of tea. You thought things would get awkward between you two but, Seungcheol treated you the same so you didn't show any awkwardness on your behalf. People of Meraki were weirder than that of Earth, but undoubtedly they were purer with their intentions.

You vaguely remembered the day when you had first joined the castle for work, after all the paperwork and interviews and agreements, you were finally here, only for Seungcheol to say,

"You're five minutes late?"

Your eyes twitched, "I live in the countryside, your majesty, it's hard to navigate to castle."

"I see, then you may live in the castle."

"I— what?"

He simply nodded, at that time you weren't close with him, so he simply dismissed you after saying, "If you want you can bring your parents here too— I have a castle, I can house my workers. Ask the steward to appoint you a room in the West wing."

West wing of course, it was the most secluded part of the castle; where most of the workers who were from different kingdoms or who resided too far away lived, it was also the wing for unimportant guests, yet you didn't mind, you were nothing but a scholar a week ago, and now you're just a treasurer, you didn't deserve the East wing which was for royal guests and parks and leisure and you surely didn't deserve the South wing which were privy grounds of the Royal Family of Aurum.

"y/n, look here, can the cost of steel and concrete be compromised here?" Seungcheol asked as you gazed up at him, it was rare for a king to be so immersed in regular works but Seungcheol was more than happy to do so, he was a fine king for sure.

"The price is up due to more chromium content in them, it is safer," you replied simply as Seungcheol mused a small "oh" of understanding.

You remembered how Seungcheol had entered your room in haste, a day before Seungcheol had overindulged himself in liquor and fell down the stairs, you had helped him up, you had set him on the bed, you indulged yourself in his drunk talk where he worried about his country and his incapability to be a good ruler and you made sure none of the servants saw, because servants will inevitably talk.

Seungcheol panicked after waking up, he rushed to your room only to find you half naked, adorning a thin chemise as his ears turned red and he left the room hastily.

You both swore to keep quiet and soon became friends, too good of friends.

"What about the ball, y/n? When are we starting the season?" Seungcheol asked, not looking up from the paper.

"We have been decorating the halls, the invitations are done so at fastest... after a week—"

"Then hold it after a week."

You flinched, Seungcheol was stubborn, he would actually want the party to be in a week.

"Any problem?" He asked, his eyes looking at yours carefully as if he were assessing any negative feelings of yours.

You blushed, it wasn't as if Seungcheol was wrong, he was basically rejecting you there— you had to say no. How can anyone not fall for his handsome face?

"It's hard to manage a ball along with dam works—"

"I'm sure you can do it," Seungcheol grinned.

"I know you're trying to make my life harder," You sighed as Seungcheol whined, "You know I'm not! And you're so rude to your King!"

As much as intimidating he was to others, as much as stubborn he was as much as a temper he had, he always seemed like a huge softie to you, you couldn't understand why was anyone scared of him? Until you saw him banishing a man and cutting off his fingers because he stole a sum of fifty thousand from the treasury. It was tinier than an ant amount of money for Seungcheol, but justice was far more important to him, plus all the funds he had put up for the non-wealthy population of his kingdom.

"You're sweet Seungcheol."

"And you're mean."

You merely smiled at him and he smiled back, content you both started your work again, you remembered how he admired your office, deeming it to be more peaceful to work, you have never been alone since.

"Since when is the prince of Ailes taking shelter in Aurum?" You asked almost absent mindedly.

He chuckled, "Since when do you know?"

"Yesterday," you smiled, "Will he show himself?"

"Nah, he's leaving," Seungcheol muttered as you looked up at him, almost shocked, "When did he get here?"

"Two days ago."

"He's leaving so soon?"

"He's the crown prince, he can't find an escape in Aurum everytime."

You understood it, but it felt sad to you, people of their age on Earth were used to partying, enjoying their lives while working, and a holiday for a king was really hard to come by.

"He will join us for the season though, right?" You asked, wanting to meet Jeonghan again, he really was a fine specimen of a fairy.

"So now you like Jeonghan better than me?" Seungcheol pouted, his eyes twinkling as you laughed, "Maybe."

He hummed slowly as he said, "Of course he would join us, he would never not."

You chuckled as you noticed the large desk of Seungcheol which he had recently installed in your office— his excuse being he's disturbed almost every thirty minutes in his own office so during important works he escapes to yours.

You had progressed in the story of Seungcheol and yours, but it wasn't love, it was friendship— too sweet of friendship, you would want to bring any kind of awkwardness in.

"y/n?"

"Yes?"

"Give me your first dance at the ball."

You looked up at him, surprised, "You want to dance with me first? Surely, there would be guests who would fit the position better."

"There would be, but they would press me for matrimony and I... don't want that, don't want to prioritise my time in that aspect right now, so you're the safest partner," he smiled.

It was customary for the King to dance at the first dance of the ball, nothing after that though.

"I sure wouldn't want your admirers to see me as a potential threat but, sure," you laughed, somehow everything felt lighter with Seungcheol and you could never understand why.

"Great," he grinned, showing off his dimples as your heart skipped a beat, he really was handsome.

"How did your confrontation go?" Jeonghan asked, preparing to leave on a carriage when he flew on his wings. His subordinates looked at him warily, possibly too irritated by his antics, but jeonghan was so caring at times that neither would his subordinates dare to hate him.

"She won't accept it," Seungcheol replied simply.

"Do you think, she just doesn't like you?" Jeonghan sighed.

"Oh she does like me! What are you on? I will make her confess."

Jeonghan sighed again as Seungcheol looked at him with scrunched eyebrows.

"Just all the best— hope she confesses soon so that the awkwardness evaporates," Jeonghan smiled as he adjusted his cuffs, his long hairs were tamed in curls and instead of normal loose shirt and pants he wore a princely outfit for a change.

"Never expected you to reveal your location to them," Seungcheol motioned towards Jeonghan's subordinates who stiffened, probably embarassed.

"They would be searching for me in Sonora for a week if i hadn't interfered," Jeonghan chuckled, patting his aide's shoulder.

"I cause them too much trouble to complain though."

Jeonghan's wings were hidden by a charm as he got on the carriage, Seungcheol just smiled at him— whimsical to a fault, Jeonghan would soon be crowned, and then they won't be able to meet freely.

"See you in a week, cheol, make sure that the ball is amazing," Jeonghan grinned, waving at his friend.

The season— the wedding season, the courting season was one of the most important events throughout Meraki; usually held by Aurum, Elixir or Sonora, this year it was Aurum's chance to shine. Everyone would be present at the first ball of the season— the first ball of the relatively new king.

Most of the coronations either happened before or after the season and as far as Seungcheol knew— Soonyoung was to be crowned before and Jeonghan after the season, he sighed, turning away after seeing out his friend only to meet with a pleasant smile, a smile which regrew his wilted garden, a smile which relieved him of worry and a smile which he swears he doesn't love.

"Did Prince Jeonghan leave already? I didn't even have a chance to talk to him," you groaned leaning on your left leg as your mouth formed a pout, which made Seungcheol chuckle.

"You will see him after a week."

"Well, it would have been better if i had some alone time with him prior to the season," you jested, a smirk forming on your lips.

Seungcheol didn't take that as a joke.

"You have a crush on him?"

"Maybe."

Seungcheol's heart dampened, a small nagging pain shot up in his chest but he waved it off, you were joking right? But, would you joke about that numerous times?

"You're still my favourite though."

Seungcheol never thought that some meager words from your lips would have the authority to put him at him and make him distressed.

"I am, aren't i?"

"Don't make me regret saying that."

You sighed as you walked around the beautiful garden, you had to go in check on the preparation of the ball because apparently Seungcheol had made you the chief planner of the ball along with being the treasurer. You were tired, you never assumed that a gam— thinking about the past would just make you sad.

"y/n?" An unknown voice called out to you as you froze, you weren't a dumb heroine like in those horror movies where they would run towards an unknown voice but it was Seungcheol's castle, it was safe right?

Yet your steps were quickened, you were a teensy bit of coward afterall.

"Hey y/n!" You finally looked back at the serene voice which called out to you, which you couldn't ignore even if you were running because your social battery was exhausted.

"Princess," you bowed in front of Phosphene's princess as she smiled up at you.

"No need for formalities, y/n— as I assume you're the King's lov— friend, one of the closest ones at that?" The princess asked, now walking alongside you, you couldn't help but clear out the imaginary creases in your dress yet the princess walked with such poise that you were enamoured by her, you didn't understand why Seungcheol didn't like her?

"I suppose I am somewhat of a friend of his majesty, but he has like twenty close friends despite being a king, i don't suppose it was because I am excellent or anything, we just have to work together a lot."

"Oh? I see."

A heavy silence weighed upon you two, you couldn't excuse yourself from the crown's guest, you at least had that amount of knowledge from your stay in Meraki.

"y/n, you're lucky," the princess smiled, her hand gently holding yours.

You were a little shocked but you let her hold your hand, "I'm lucky?"

"Having Seungcheol's favour is no small deal, it's hard to impress him," the princess grinned dropping your hand.

"I suppose," you murmured as you subconsciously stroked your hand.

"y/n, i adore you, i respect you, you have come far by your own."

"Thank-you, your highness but it's really nothing special, I just worked hard at academics," you smiled sheepishly as the princess sighed.

"You give yourself too less of a credit y/n."

"I don't know about that," you smiled.

"y/n, on a serious note, do you like Seungcheol?" The princess asked.

"Of course, he's very reliable, capable and in all a really good ruler—"

"I don't mean it in that way, y/n, do you like him as a person and just as a subject?"

"What do you mean?"

"I heard true love transcends all, would you be okay if Seungcheol marries someone?"

Those words felt like an arrow to your heart, you didn't even want to imagine it at this point. You didn't take Seungcheol's words seriously before, but now you did, if things went well he would marry her.

"Why would it affect me if he marries anyone?" You gave an awkward chuckle. But you were affected, deeply. You didn't know just how much you liked that man, but this one questions had you questioning your entire sanity, just why were her words like an iron rod to your gut?

"A friendly advice y/n, always let your heart be known even if it isn't reciprocated."

Was she mocking you? She probably wasn't but you were pressed.

"You aren't my friend, princess." You hissed suddenly realising your lack of manners.

"I— I didn't—"

"It's okay y/n, I don't mind—"

"I need to go, I'm sorry."

You whispered as you swiftly turned away, walking in the wrong direction but it didn't matter, you had to get away from her, away from your own thoughts, you had to tap back into reality. This wasn't a game.

You hid your logs in deep pockets of your red gown and this time, for a change, maids were helping you get into your dress, a treatment you had never received before and would probably never receive again.

You weren't someone who was needed in these balls, in these high society talks, you were a mere treasurer and all your work was to fiddle with the numerous log books and figure out ways to expand Aurum's economy. A taxing work, but you accepted it. You had to accept it.

Your eyes lingered over the mirror for longer, a wider smile graced your features, oh there were times when every lady loved to be dolled up. Your red gown was lined with lace, with puffed sleeves and rectangular cleavage, you felt like a princess but deep in your heart you knew there would be ladies who would be dressed more extravagantly, who would look prettier than you, who would be able to enamour Seungcheol. If not the princess of Phosphene, there were others, there would always be someone better than you.

If it was a random fictional book you were reading, or a game you were playing, you would definitely root for a character like yours, yet here, you knew you were no match for someone like him, you knew you might not be able to go back to where you came from if you actually fell deeper for him, a literal manchild.

But his plump red lips, his smirk, the way he pronounced every word that fluttered out of his sweet red lips was distracting, you just couldn't mind your business when he was around.

But, you had made up your mind, you wouldn't fall for him. Never.

So when Seungcheol approached you while you were stuffing your face with oh so delicious lemon cakes why did you panic to maintain poise when your employer already knew of your glutton habits, why did your heart skip a beat when he asked you for dance when he had already made sure you knew of it before. Why was your heart laughing with joy as he twirled you around and everyone looked at you, when he had clarified he had only wanted you for his own personal gain?

"y/n? Are you alright?" He asked, his deep voice shaking you to the core as you shivered slightly.

"I am just overwhelmed," you replied slowly.

"Hey! Look at me." One of his hands subtly went to your chin as he made you gaze up at him, a gesture which people would think was a part of dance but actually wasn't.

He made you look at him, at his brown-red orbs, his eyes which were normally brown glinted with red whenever he had anxiety, temper, worry or concern and the same eye would shine golden when he would be immensely happy. People didn't know that though, they only knew of him as a shot-tempered, prideful yet capable king.

"Breathe, and just look at me. Don't care about them, think of it as only us being here," he whispered in your ears as he brought you closer for the dance step, his warm breath fanning your face as your face flushed.

"Are you looking at me?" He asked, a slight mischief in his voice which you didn't detect, but you gulped and replied honestly.

"I am." You were, your eyes travelled all upon him, to his red silk shirt buried under his black and golden popped collared blazer, to his tight fitting pants which did mercy to his bottom and thighs, to the way his now shorter hair rested on top of his eyebrows, you noticed everything.

"Does it feel better?" His arm went around your back, you couldn't help but notice the lingering touches of his at every step, yet you paid no heed to them, he would never like you.

"It's better than before for sure," you didn't trust the words slipping from your lips, he had only made you more nervous and agitated by his "calming" words, you understood that and yet you weren't able to notice the smirk on his lips for your eyes could only see his, which twinkled with a slight golden light.

And then the music stopped.

You hastily stepped away from him as Seungcheol's eyebrow curved up, he gently kissed your gloved hands, your hands shaking slightly in his grasp which Seungcheol held firm. You gave him a well-practiced curtsey as you excused yourself out of the ballroom, too hot, too in love.

But then your eyes travelled to the princess of Phosphene and then you locked eyes with every other princess there, every other princess which would try to get Seungcheol to marry them and you stopped, your legs stopping involuntarily as you turned in the direction of the powder room, you didn't want to get Seungcheol out of your sight.

"I see you were thinking about my words," you heard the princess's voice as you turned around only to find her smiling at you.

"Perhaps, your highness. Your words were too wise and conflicting," you admitted collecting your gown as you went towards the powder room, "Later your highness, i have an emergency."

Like damned you had an emergency, you didn't want to be in her presence, she made you feel insecure without meaning to do so, oh how you hated your heart for falling for Seungcheol— but the heart wants what it wants.

You stepped out of the powder room, as you walked back into the ballroom, you couldn't run away— you were in no position to do so, after Seungcheol's first dance everyone would be dying to meet you, to interact with you, to dance with you.

And as you had expected, when you stepped back into the room, all eyes were upon you, including his. He eyes you like a predator, holding a golden glass of wine, smirking and stalking his prey through lush grasses as you confidentially trod forward, you wouldn't let this man's presence shake you even if you had the biggest crush on him, and so you did what was to be done.

You socialized, you talked, you laughed, you danced; all under all-knowing eyes of Seungcheol, all while ignoring his prying glances.

The males were enamoured by you, the high society women now wanting to enlist you in their friend-circle, hell you were sure if you were even the tiniest bit of noble as they were, you would have had five different males courting you.

So when the ball approached its end, you made a decision to step back and relax, and as you were free you admired the beautiful hall you and your helpers had set up together, tall white columns were decorated by glaze lilies, each table covered by finest silk tableware, cutlery donned with silver plates and rose covered with sprinkles of gold, extravagant chandeliers hung on the ball room and it was all so beautiful. You hadn't even started admiring the entrance to the East wing.

"You're quite busy today." You heard a voice as you whipped behind.

"Oh Accountant! How are you?"

"Please call me Eiser," he grinned, stretching his hand towards you as you laughed.

"Sure Sir Eiser."

"Lady y/n," he grinned as he passed you a fruit drink, you had promised yourself to not drink, just so you could handle Seungcheol after he was drunk, because he was definitely drinking, though he could hold off his own.

"Ah, so many guests, it's kind of a pity that half of these guests would leave within a span of a couple of days."

"What do you mean, Sir?" You asked, sipping your drink.

"Oh you're new, right. Well, one of the kingdoms holds the first ball to commerce the three month long season, after which most of the guests leave to hold their own in their own kingdom, only some stay for more than a week, rest all get busy with their own; people travel a lot if someone catches their eye, though that is not common," Eiser explained as you listened to him intently.

"Not many want to leave the comfort of their own Kingdom and kins and join another, until they are in pure love."

"Well you can vouch for that," you grinned, sipping your tea— drink more intensely.

"What must you mean by that?"

"There is no bee attached to your lips now, I presume?" The man turned beet red as he tried to explain to you the situation, you waved him off though, chuckling slightly.

And then your eyes mistakenly caught Seungcheol's who was dancing his second dance in the second last dance of the ball, with a princess of God knows what kingdom, you felt defeated, your heart cracked by his one single move as he took in a sharp breath and excused yourself to the balcony to get fresh air yet again.

Why were you so affected? Why were you so awkward? Why would you think you would be the only one to dance with him?

You tried to divert your attention to the beautiful flowers that were curled up on the railing but to no effect, you hated your heart, you didn't want a heartbreak, you never wanted your heart to break. You prided yourself for a strong personality, a strong heart which doesn't like many, but why did it seem so vulnerable now, so delicate, so easy to permeate.

"y/n."

Wow so now you were hallucinating.

Just in case you turned around, only to find the man you had wanted to run away from the most, he was so ethereal, so out of this world— that was technically true but, you couldn't help but yearn for him. Oh how you just wanted him to kiss you.

"Why are you ignoring me?" He asked, stepping closer to you as you stepped back subconsciously.

"I am not," you asserted.

"But you are," Seungcheol whispered, not wanting to be overheard, not wanting the attention on the balcony.

He came as discreetly as possible and shut the doors, he didn't want anyone sneaking up on you both.

"I said, I'm not. I'm just feeling under the weather," you replied, turning your head away from him, giving him a show of your clavicle.

He stepped forward.

"I don't like it."

"Don't like what?"

"This invisible distance which wasn't here a week ago, did something happen? Did anyone say anything to you? Tell me," Seungcheol pleaded, his hands grasped your arms gently as his mouth formed a pout while he looked at you with concern.

You could have smelled his alcohol.

"There is no problem," you replied, yet you didn't shake his hands off you, you didn't want to.

"Did you have a problem when I danced with Kwan's sister? I promise there is nothing—"

"There is no problem," you spoke, you cut him off, ironically making him realise the problem.

Seungcheol's grip on your arm loosened as his brow quirked up, you could practically feel his smirk ghosting against your head, his lips not touching you still.

"You do like me."

"I don't!" You hissed and turned to look at him, a big mistake, his eyes which were previously red before now had a copperish hue— a hue which even you couldn't describe, it made him look perfect, more perfect than he already was.

"If you don't then you won't mind if I lean in and kiss you, would you?" He asked, his breath fanning your face as your face reddened. Liar. He would never do that, the traditions won't allow him to.

"Or would you mind if i step away and never kiss you," he grinned as you looked up at him, too smitten by him, you knew you looked like a love-struck puppy but you didn't really care.

"Tell me to move, princess," he whispered as he stepped even closer to you while your back was pressed against the railing.

"Tell me to go away," he whispered as his lips ghosted yours.

"Do you not want me to kiss you?"

You shook your head.

He clicked his lips, "Liar."

"I will ask again, do you not want me to kiss you? Use your words sweetheart," his deep voice shook your core, eliciting the strangest of responses but now your emotions were too in control and you said, "kiss me."

"That's my girl."

Seungcheol's lips attached with yours, almost hungrily, almost as if he was wanting this to happen for forever, his hands searched for all the dips and creases in your body as you jolted backwards to the railing, your hand gripping the cold steel as Seungcheol messily made out with you. His other hand went around your back as both of your hands went into his perfect hair, messing them up. He bit your lower lips with his teeth as he swiped his tongue across, exploring your mouth. His other hand gripped your nape as he deepened the kiss, you couldn't help it, you were so in love with him, you were so bewitched by him, it was almost cruel. You couldn't stop your hunger for him, and he couldn't stop his hunger for you.

The ball had come to an end, but Seungcheol wasn't stopping now.

(to be continued in part 3...)

congratulations! you finished the 2nd part of the "plethora" series of choi seungcheol, your game is saved! please wait for an update for the final part <3

a/n : ahahahaha this took longer than it had to :')

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ariadnejoly · 9 months

Text

I unapologetically love Girls

Yes, I'm bi, 😝 But I also love Girls, the comedy-drama series. The general opinion I see online is: most people can't stand to watch it. It's cringe. It makes them uncomfortable. For one reason or another, many haven't watched it. I would like to share my love for the show and what it means to me.

The glory of Adam Driver. Getting the obvious out of the way. He has always been gifted, this man who evokes such a raw and vulnerable edge. He is compelling, point blank, and this show acts as a long form story where he not only stuck around as one of the ensemble cast, but his character's evolution over the entire six seasons is a beautiful and subtle performance. I remember being surprised and delighted that Dunham didn't write out his character after a breakup, as they might do on say, Sex and the City. Adam Sackler hung around and became a core member of the group. Everyone else noticed his talent too, which is why Kathleen Kennedy snapped him up to play Kylo Ren in Star Wars. Girls gave me Adam Driver and I felt right at home in Star Wars with him. He's given his all to everything he's ever done. He is the actor of our generation. And he didn't get his breakthrough on the stage, or his episode of Law and Order. It was on Girls. But I don't need to brag. Just watch the show to see the absolutely feral and filthy fuckboi he starts out as. Watching it purely for Adam Driver will be worth it, and you might just end up liking other parts of the show, too.

It subverted my expectations constantly. And that's a good thing! People (me included) expected this new, anticipated show to be the Millennial Sex and the City. And I mean, there is sex, and there is Brooklyn, but this show goes in all different directions AND keeps up with male characters. See point 1 above. Adam, Elijah, Ray, and even dear, dysfunctional Desi round out the ensemble cast of women. As a long-time fan of Sex and the City, that show uses the Kens as ornaments, only utilized for sex and jokes, and breakups. The women don't talk about anything but the men they're dating. And guess what? That's fine! It is what it is. And I fuggin love that show --it was so formative for my 17 year old self. But then my 22 year old self watched the first season of Girls and was blown away by the way Dunham and the other creatives firmly planted their heels as an entirely different show that was not to be compared to anything that came before. These characters are complicated and deeply flawed. And at many times, unlikeable. But the writing is good. There's always one or two "bottle" episodes per season where characters are on a trip back to their hometown (season 1, episode 6), or the absolutely heartwrenching Marnie adventure in season 5 episode 6. I have many more examples I could give (Honorable mention to season 3 episode 9!). These episodes reveal another layer of complexity to each character in a way that feels lived in, possible, real. There's specificity and sharp wit. Characters often have a turbulent epiphany about their life in these bottle episodes, one that's usually scary to admit and confront. One of my favorite episodes is Hello Kitty (season 5 episode 7). It has so many moving parts, the play in the apartment building, the horrifying true story the play is based on...and yet that episode is so fun to watch. Beautifully written and directed. It has stayed deeply rooted in my mind as a piece of magic. This show has plot lines that are controversial and will absolutely divide people. It's not so middle of the road that it's blah, that’s for sure. It's irreverent and at times, utterly troubling. It makes you question your own character a little deeper. And that's why I keep coming back to study the show again and again.

Girls made me uncomfortable and cringe the first time I watched it. I was indeed like all the rest of the critics, appalled at Lena Dunham's flagrant nudity (I was from a Mormon town and had recently escaped the cult myself). Lena's body looked different than that one, victoria's secret model-type that we are all familiar with. Dunham's lack of shame horrified me and intrigued me. It tickled some deep part of my brain that yearned for the same liberation. But more than that, it was the scary way I related to the character within the first three episodes. Hannah is an aspiring writer who's 'bigger' than her friends. She hopes to be the voice of a generation. She wants to write a memoir. She’s just unkempt enough that no one takes her seriously. I was slack jawed after the pilot. I'd been watching myself on screen, for what felt like the first time ever. I staggered away from the tv and the episode rolled around in my brain, until a week went by and it was time for another episode. I'd just undergone a LEEP procedure to remove pre-cancerous cells from my cervix because I'd contracted HPV. Then episode 3 was about Hannah tracking down the boy who gave her HPV. Only to find out the ex she hooked up with that one time is gay. And yet again, it was like Lena Dunham was writing my life. Dating the gay boy who's a musical theatre aficionado? Yep. Me, Hannah, and Lady Bird. Hannah Horvath's life diverged from mine with every subsequent episode, but come on. If you were me, you would have been hooked too. Each season, no matter how batshit any character was, no matter what they did, I tuned in. And even though I was outraged when Hannah quit safe, secure jobs, like GQ (that allowed her to interview Patti LuPone!), it was really just me projecting my own money concerns. And when I cringed at her nude body, it was really just my own fatphobia and insecurity that I am still unlearning to this day. The writers of the show decided to make the characters self-sabotage in order to create comedy and drama. Hannah doesn't conform or stay quiet or people please to survive, like I had to. Watching Hannah and the girls became more of a “what not to do.” Back then I was comforted that while life was hard, at least I wasn't fucking up as badly as Hannah Horvath. Now I can laugh at the silliness and hijinks. It's all just good, fictional fun when you're past the poverty and crippling self-doubt of your twenties.

My thoughts on my body (and Hannah Horvath's) have changed. And that's the best thing of all. I rewatched Girls in 2022, a ten-year anniversary sort of thing. Wow. I saw it with different eyes. The eyes of someone older, wiser, happier. I watched it as a 32 year old, two years into my healing journey with my mind, body, and with food. And I see Girls in a new way. I see Hannah's body. It's straight out of Renaissance portraits. She is beautiful because she is real. I am also beautiful, and real. And so are you. Our bodies allow us to do and experience so many things. I'm grateful for the one I have. The culture in the 2010's was absolutely fat-shaming and misogynistic. When Dunham did press interviews, she deserved to be asked about her writing and directing, not why she was nude. And even when I wasn't ready to see Dunham's body (because I was still living in the fantasy that if I just did the next diet, I could finally be thin and look like the girls in the media), I am so glad Lena showed her real body and now that shit is immortalized in the Library of Congress. Good for her.

Girls shows some hard realities, for worse or better. The girls don't make lifelong vows to always remain friends. It's not a soulmate, forever Sunday brunch kinda thing. In fact, the show distances them all from one another over the last few seasons and at the end, gives them a sendoff in which they agree to float away from each other, more or less. And that's the true reality of some friendships, especially in your twenties. People will come and go throughout all of your life. It's a certainty. This show was creatively driven by a 24 year old woman, who was showing us the reality of adult life as a young person in a deeply corrupt, capitalistic system. A shitty recession where being an unpaid intern is legal. Getting felt up by your boss is tolerated by women in the office for the sake of financial security. Not eating to save money, hoping that boy texts you back, licking Cool Whip from the back of the spoon, avoiding the reality of your student loans. C'est la vie.

#Girls hbo #hbo girls #adam sackler #lena dunham #adam driver

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moonleeai · 11 months

Text

Namaste Collab: Teri Hasee Ka Noor

Title : Teri Hasee Ka Noor

Pairing : Hoseok x female reader

Word Count: 13.8k

City/State : Kashmir / Goa

Timeline : February / March

Rating : Mature 18+

Genre : travel au, friends to lovers, fluff, baby angst, SMUT

Warnings: unprotected sex, slow burn, explicit language

Summary : Hoseok takes best friend duties seriously and makes it his mission to cure your winter blues. He intends well by surprising you with a tropical vacation but it starts off colder than anticipated. Hoseok fixes his mistake in time for the hot weather to stir something in both of you, but will his flirty nature hinder the flame?

AN: The meaning of the title is “the radiance of your smile/laugh”. Thank you Baby Queen Jiya @btsstan12 (ao3) for the beautiful banner. It’s so much more than I expected and I love love love it as much as I love love love you.

A huge shout out to Jasz @downbad4yoongi, Sara, and Kari for beta reading this and helping me so so much! xoxo

Special thanks to @sugarwithtea , @btsstan12 (ao3) and @apotatomashedbybts for having me in your desi BTS fanfic collaboration! It was so fun learning about India! I hope you like my take on it ☺

Read More Stories here: Namaste Collab Masterlist

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Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

Life is so boring sometimes. The highlight of your month was buying a cordless vacuum for your newly renovated hardwood floors—adult things. You love your job as a dance director at your best friend Hoseok’s dance academy. He keeps the days entertaining, but you’re tired of repeating the days in the same ways. Today, after teaching the last class of college dance majors, you helped Hoseok do the nightly cleaning of the studio. He blasts hip-hop music and moves rhythmically around while sweeping, and you wipe down the mirrors, watching how his body flows to the beat like a graceful bird gliding in the wind. He glances over and catches you staring, you quickly look away and grumble.

“Hurry up, Seok. I wanna go home.”

“For what? It’s not like you have plans!”

He wasn’t wrong. Your best friend of a few years knew exactly what you were going to do tonight. Nothing; your favorite thing. He used to get offended when you wouldn’t come out to clubs but quickly realized you just enjoyed the comfort of being home. Once he learned that about you, he started inviting himself to your place instead.

Hoseok is a man of many talents, but he’s most known for dance and his ability to choreograph and practice until perfection, spotting any slight flaws in a millisecond. The hottest dancer there is, was, and will ever be. His presence is a force known as J. Hope or Jay, his stage name. Hoseok is an above-average gentleman, J. Hope is the motivator everyone needs at the end of an exhausting practice, and Jay– well, he’s the performer with the sultriest moves.

The next song comes on, and you both pull your faces into surprised expressions. The song-- Troy Sivan’s “Youth”-- was one of your favorite duo choreos from back in the day. Quickly, you both jump into place and begin the dance from muscle memory. This time though, you two are a little too close, and Hoseok decides to improvise; instead of grabbing your hand at the end, he pulls your wrist up, raising your arm above your head, making you spin, and your back firmly presses into his torso. He places his chin on your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist, swaying your bodies together. You can feel your temperature rising, and the need to melt into his hold almost takes over.

“Ahh…I love this dance!” Hoseok nearly screams in your ear, forcing you to pull away, hand over your ear. He laughs and goes back to cleaning while you’re glad to have a reason to walk away. Hoseok is a very touchy-feely friend, and it never bothered you until recently. During the holidays, you were both single and spent too much time together. Too much because now... now you think you’re falling for him.

You both like the same music, the same movies, and you both love to dance. So many of the holiday nights turned into spontaneous dance battles or deep conversations about those things you equally enjoyed. His laugh was beginning to be your favorite sound, like poetry in pretty handwriting. Every giggle and smile from him filled your soul with something you couldn’t pinpoint.

You finish the mirrors and watch him two-step to the trash can. He glances over as if he can feel your eyes on him and gives his charming smile. The smile that drew you in and made you crave his friendship. He embodies comfort, like the feeling of a favorite oversized sweater on a cold day, wrapping you in warmth.

“Let’s stay here and dance.”

“No, Seok. I’m hungry.”

“We can order takeout.” He walks over and reaches for your hand, but you pull away, knowing you’d give in to whatever he wanted once the slightest spark ignited your bones from his touch.

“Let’s go to my place… it’s close; we can grab food and move the couch to dance. Plus, I have all the alcohol.”

Hoseok watches you, amused by all the layers of clothing you put on as if you’re preparing for a snowpocalypse and your strawberry lip balm. He knows you are a tropical person at heart, and every winter, you believe it just may be your last. Your beach-loving, sun-soaking spirit is having the most challenging time battling winter blues this year, and Hoseok is going to fix that. He’s been planning something and intends to tell you tonight. Only if you would give him the time to do so; he’s been dying to say something but hasn’t found the right time all night, and now you’re rushing to get home.

“Why aren’t you getting dressed?”

“Oh, I was just…lost in thought.” He throws a midweight jacket on, “Let’s go!”

“At least put this beanie on, Seok! You’re going to get sick one of these days!” A hint of a smile plays on his lips as he gently takes the hat and turns away from you to hide his flushed cheeks. He’s always faintly enjoyed you taking care of him.

After grabbing food and arriving at your apartment, you hurriedly remove your shoes, rush over to your freestanding electric fireplace, and turn it on. Hoseok, still at the door hanging his jacket, tells you to throw your jackets over to be hung. Then you both sit at your coffee table in front of the fire to eat.

“So, I’ve been wanting to tell you some news.”

“What news?”

“I’m going to close the academy for a week and go on vacation.”

“Va–? What! To where? When?!”

He stifles a grin and tots his tongue over his teeth, “India.”

“In–! Are you serious right now? By yourself?”

“Well…no. I bought two tickets and have everything planned out. A week in a tropical place–”

“Jeong Hoseok! Who are you going with?”

“I was hoping… you?” The last word comes out so soft and shy you almost miss it.

“You’re serious?” Hoseok nods his head yes to your question. “O–Okay! Yeah! I’ll go!”

Cutely, his shoulders rise as he half states and half questions, “Soooo… we’re… going to India?”

“We’re going to India!” I could kiss you right now!

But you don’t; you settle for a tight embrace and huge smiles before you both return to eating. After a few beats of awkward silence, you’re looking up pictures showing each other beaches and cabanas. The excitement is too much to hold in, and you both surrender to fits of giggles. Hoseok throws his body into your lap and you’re enchanted by his comfortable sound.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

On the plane, you sit back and get cozy in the oversized seat. Thankfully Hoseok splurged a little for business class. The dijon yellow cushions and extra pillows make it feel like you’re sitting on the couch in the tranquility of your home.

Achoo! You look up in disgust as you were just sprayed unexpectedly. A child in front of you stands in their seat, looking at you. Snot running from their nose is enough to tell you they probably have a cold but– achoo!-- the menace is sneezing directly at you. You swat at the air to rid your space of the germs and scrunch your nose at the kid, making them turn around in their seat.

“Let’s look up the places and try to plan what to see and what to do before you lay this kid out,” Hoseok says, pulling the reservation up on his phone.

“More than the beach?” You laugh because that’s all you want to do. Sit in the sand and sun, letting your body absorb enough heat that might keep you content until summer arrives.

“Well… I saw a boat ride on Dal Lake. The boats are pretty, and yes, the beach, of course.” He shows you a screenshot that he took of a row of wooden boats painted in pastel colors with vibrant cushions. The boats are beautifully resting on a still body of water, but the background catches your attention. There are snow-capped mountains exquisitely reflected in the lake. Snow-capped. Snow.

“Seok, when was this picture taken?”

“Mmm, I just got it off the internet.”

You connect your phone to the Wi-Fi and ask for the resort’s name.

“Well, it’s two hotels because the package is split into like a north and west tour. Gulmarg and Goa. It was rated pretty high.” He pulls up the reservation and shows you the booking. You type in the first name.

“Hmm... How do you spell the city?” The first picture that came up showed a building with a snow-covered roof.

Hoseok spells it out as you slowly type in the name along with ‘things to do’ and choose the first option. You notice a few pictures with snow again.

“Seok. Did you happen to check the weather for this time of year?”

“What? No. It’s India. Isn’t it always hot?” You both stare at each other. As quick as uncertainty weighed on your chest, his candied hazelnut eyes swept it away, sweet and syrupy, glazing over any discomfort.

“Let me see the reservation again.” Kolahoi Green Resort, Gulmarg. A luxury resort is nestled near India’s most popular spot for skiing. Skiing. I can’t strangle him on the plane. Reading on, you also see he’s booked a honeymoon package, whatever that means. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Seok…maybe you should read the whole resort description.” You tilt his phone toward him and hold your finger under ‘skiing’ and ‘honeymoon’.

His expression turns into a panic. Eyes wide, he covers his mouth with his hand.

“I am so sorry. I swear I booked the beach package! I saw honeymoon packages, but I didn’t think I chose that one. I was only looking at the differences in price.”

You pull the phone back and start reading the entire reservation. There is, in fact, a beach for four days, but only after the one by the ski lodge for three days. Three days in the cold, which you just left. To say all excitement has left your body is an understatement. You immediately begin thinking about the lack of clothes you packed. Your suitcase is full of cute sundresses, tank tops, and shorts. You don’t even remember packing jeans. Luckily, there are the sweatpants and hoodie you’re wearing on the plane. Maybe, just maybe, it’s warmer now. You look up the weather in hopes of quelling your thoughts.

“Seok, I don’t know if I have enough warm clothes for three days in the cold. The temperature is like 11 to 15 degrees Celsius. I– I only packed dresses and–”

“I’m sure we can buy some clothes somewhere. You can also wear some of mine; you know I overpacked hoodies and sweats.” He goes into compassion mode, a voice of reason. There’s always a solution to a problem; he does just that as you both continue talking. His voice is a soothing palette of neutral tones, easing you into solace.

“Yeah.” You turn and stare out the window with your hands tucked under your thighs. Hoseok can feel how disappointed you are and will spend these hopefully not-too-cold days doing whatever he can to see you smile.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

The resort is pretty. Not your cup of tea with the patches of snow still covering the surrounding property, but you can kind of see the appeal. The receptionist gives some information on the area and informs you that it’s the last weekend for skiing since it’s warming up.

Warming up. Ha! Skiing is the last thing on your mind, but Hoseok’s body wiggles, and his face lights up. When he turns to look at you, you return a small smile, feeling your cheeks heating up. As the receptionist hands over the key card, they congratulate you with best wishes, and you both walk away confused.

“What was that about?”

“No idea,” he rushes through those words to get to the next subject, “but would you want to snowboard tomorrow? The sign says they rent out everything, even snow gear.”

“Seok.” You press the button on the elevator, and the doors open instantly.

“Please! I promise I will do whatever you want if you do this with me!” Hoseok begs as the elevator ascends to your floor.

“I literally want to stay in a warm room the entire three days.”

“No way! The lake boat ride is here.”

“Okay. Then I want to be inside for the rest of the time.” You joke, waiting for him to open the door.

Hoseok scans the room key and holds the door open for you. You walk through and see pretty decorations. Gold balloon letters spelling ‘congratulations,’ flower petals leading to, as well as covering, the bed in a heart shape. The four-post bed has a canopy with sheer white linen cascading down, surrounded by fairy lights, illuminating a tray with a champagne bottle in an ice bucket and two glass flutes.

There’s only one bed.

Across from the bed is a large two-seater sofa in front of a gas fireplace. You walk further inside with Hoseok on your heels, following the flower petals that continue through sliding doors into a spa-like bathroom. Flameless tea lights and votives of various sizes cover every possible surface area. While everything is beautiful, you’re both still confused.

“What in the world?”

“Do you think they gave us the wrong room?”

You both walk back to the bedroom and find a card on the small table. You pick it up and read it aloud, “Congratulations, newlyweds. Best wishes from the Staff at Kolahi.”

Hoseok finds another note. “Look at this! It’s not a mistake. It has our names and ‘please call when you’re ready for your complimentary desserts.”

“You did book the honeymoon package, Hoseok!” You start laughing because, honestly, what else can go wrong?

Hoseok submerses in your laugh. He’s been worried, but now a warm tingle is stirring inside him, and his heart beats faster. He watches as you go back to the bathroom.

“Ah! It’s a jacuzzi! We have our own hot tub! I want to use this right now!”

Hoseok freezes at the words. A hot tub… in the room… where you both have to sleep… for three days. The beach is a vast open space, so being in a bikini among a sea of others is no big deal… but you’ll be wearing one so incredibly close. Intimately close. The blur of you walking by brings him back to the present.

He clears his throat as you walk to your suitcase, “Don’t you want to explore the area first? See what all is out there?”

“Oh. True. Yeah, let’s do that. We can use the jacuzzi to end the day. I could use a nap, too.”

“No naps. We have to get on this timezone. Come on! We’ll unpack later; let’s go look around.”

Down in the lobby, you sit on a loveseat in front of the fireplace while Hoseok talks to the receptionist. You pull out your phone and check to see how far the lake is that Hoseok is dead set on. It’s two hours away and all the way back by the airport. You close your eyes and let out a deep breath, frustrated by the lack of planning. When you open them again, you see an activities book on a table next to you. You pick it up and start browsing through the pages.

There’s a gondola ride, shrine, temple, and three restaurants. Anything indoors sounds excellent. One of the restaurants is a glass igloo, and you immediately look for Hoseok to tell him, knowing he will love it.

He comes up beside you, and you flash the page so he can see the igloo.

“I was just about to tell you about that!” He plops down next to you, showing some notes he took on his phone from the receptionist. Pretty much everything in the book you’re holding. “They said the gondola is beautiful at sunset, so we could do that first. Then come back to eat–”

“Then jacuzzi!” You shriek, too excited for a night of relaxation.

Hoseok looks at you, baring a tight-lipped grin; your eyes trace the lines ending in dimples, then float to the mole on his upper lip. He unexpectedly jumps up, pulling you both from a haze and holds his hand out for you. You take it and make your way to the gondola.

Staring at the cables disappearing into the distance, you remember Hoseok’s fear of heights.

“Are you going to be able to do this?”

“Yeah, I should be okay.”

You both continue following the small crowd and chatting. You were cold at first, but the constant conversation has seemingly kept you warm by occupying your mind. Or maybe it’s his presence.

Closer to the front, you can see that the ride is in two parts–ten minutes to the first stop and then twelve to the last. The gondola fits six, but with the small number of attendees, you get a cable car to yourself. You sit across each other and observe the surroundings as it ascends the mountainside.

“I feel so dumb.” Hoseok sighs after the statement.

“What? Why?” you ask while sliding your lip balm over your lips. Hoseok watches and notices the way your lips shine afterward.

“For one, not checking the weather. And two, I had no idea there were huge mountains here!”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I didn’t know either. Now we do.” You offer a smile, plumping your cheeks into two small plums. Hoseok melts into the seat, responds with a simple grin, and gazes back out the window.

You pass over pine trees and snow-submerged valleys. You stay on, opting not to get off at the first stop, and before you know it, you’re at the peak. You would’ve never known Hoseok was afraid of heights, at least on the outside. A frigid breeze slices across your bare face when you step off the gondola. Your body quakes as you follow people to a scenic point.

The setting sun plays peek-a-boo with the fluffy clouds, displaying pastel colors across the sky and a fiery glow on top of the mountains. Hoseok asks you to take fun photos of him, and you laugh while getting every angle possible. A lovely couple offers to take a picture of both of you, and you return the favor for them.

After a few more steps along the mountain’s edge, Hoseok grabs your wrist and starts jogging, “I’m done! It’s so cold!” You giggle, keeping up with him, and breathlessly throw yourselves back into a gondola. This time he sits next to you. When the door shuts, and the cable car begins descending, he wraps his arms around you. He wiggles and gets as close as possible, pulling you into him and placing his chin on your shoulder.

“Thank you for doing this; let’s warm up.” His warm breath strikes your neck, and a kaleidoscope of warmth ignites in your stomach. You rest your head against his and take a deep, shaky breath. That’s how you remain the entire ride down, quietly wrapped in each other as the light disappears from the sky. You’re tempted to ask what’s on his mind, but you also don’t want to read too much into his actions. He’s always been touchy in a friendly way, and you don’t want to ruin it.

After dinner, you walk back to the suite and discuss the delicious food. You can’t help but think about how great the hot water in the jacuzzi will feel. In the suite, you open your suitcase and pull out toiletries, pajamas, and bathing suits. You start to feel shy about the itty bitty fabric barely covering your ass. Hoseok watches you as your eyes flit from one to the other, then calls the receptionist to deliver the complimentary dessert, and then goes to turn on the water.

He comes back out with a robe for you as there’s a knock on the door. He gets the delivery and places it on the tray on the bed. You both marvel over the creative mithai charcuterie board; various ladoos, plain and chocolate-covered strawberries, sweet boondi, and kaju katli. After Hoseok takes a million pictures, he carries the tray of dessert and champagne into the bathroom and puts it on the shelf by the jacuzzi.

Coming back for the glasses, he mentions, “I’ll change in the bathroom. Take your time.” He closes the doors behind him, and you change before pulling the robe over your bikini. When you open the doors, he’s already in the water with the jets on full blast.

You stand at the edge of the jacuzzi, “Would you, maybe, close your eyes?” You chuckle before continuing, “This feels a little awkward.” He turns his head from you and closes his eyes with a massive grin. You drop the robe and quickly get in, sinking until the water is at your clavicle. “Okay. You can be normal again.”

Hoseok sits up, fills the champagne glasses and hands you one. “A toast to our buddymoon!”

You roll your eyes but still laugh, “You’re so corny.” You both clink your glasses and take a sip. “Did you try any of the desserts yet?”

“No. I wanted to wait for you. Do you want me to hold the tray in front of you?”

“Oh, uh, no. It’s okay. Will you hand me one of the diamond thingies?”

“According to the little guide, that is kaju katli: cashews, sugar, cardamom, and ghee.” You reach for it, but he’s already bringing it to your lips. As you open your mouth and let the sweetness hit your tongue, your lips graze his fingers, and your eyes briefly meet before looking away. He grabs one for himself and rests back against the basin.

After some time, you’re on your last glasses, having finished the bottle, and feeling relaxed. You both have been chipping away at the dessert and reveling in all the deliciousness.

Deciding it’s been enough time in the jacuzzi, Hoseok stands, and you notice how his shorts cling to his thigh muscles; he pulls at the fabric, easing the clinging fabric away from his groin. He steps out, drying off haphazardly, and walks to the bedroom, closing the door behind him again. You get out and dry off before donning the robe back on to join him. Standing at the minifridge, he pulls out a bottle of rosé, but all you can see is his waistband resting low across his hips, dangerously low, exposing a faint happy trail under his belly button. The dips and hills are graciously defined on his stomach, and you feel a warmth overtake your body. You raise your hand to your cheek in hopes of hiding the flush.

“Are you drunk already?” Hoseok teases.

“No! It’s just… hot.” You roll your eyes and motion toward the new bottle, “Where’d that come from?”

“It was in the fridge. Strawberry time!” He places the wine by the fireplace sofa and returns to the jacuzzi to get the fruit. You can’t help but smile at his excitement and the little noises he makes with every step to and from the bathroom. He motions for you to sit, pours the drink, and hands you a glass. You both reach for the same strawberry from the tray and then giggle at the chances. He grabs it, reaches toward your mouth, and watches intently as your lips wrap around the heart-shaped fruit forming a perfect pouty circle. You can’t unsee his tongue slowly swiping across his bottom lip as his eyes glaze over, trapping your attention like a mosquito in amber sap. You remember to chew when his eyes break from yours and roam down your slightly open robe. You reach for the neckline to close it, and he turns away, grabbing a strawberry for himself before sliding against the back of the sofa. “You’re right… it’s really warm in here.”

You clear your throat, eyes on the flames. “So…one bed. Looks like we’re going to be pretty close.”

“Yeah. It’ll be nice to have something to keep me warm tonight.”

The night ends with bellies full of wine and dessert and happily planning the next day of adventure. You have absolutely no desire to snowboard, but Hoseok’s sunshine smile and light laughter seep into your heart. You want nothing more than to continue seeing his smile and hearing his laugh.

In the bed, you both lie facing the ceiling like statues when he breaks the silence. “Can we like… cuddle?”

You snicker at first, but the idea of it sounds lovely. “Sure, why not.”

Hoseok falls asleep quickly with his arms and legs wrapped around and over you, while you lay there, calming your racing heart in his grasp.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

Slightly waking, you adjust your body, rolling on your side as something rigid grazes your hip, eliciting a hiss from Hoseok. “Shit! Sorry, Seok!” Startled, you sit up and fling your legs over the bedside, jolting yourself awake.

“You didn’t have to jump away. It just–”

“No, no. I should get up anyway. Snowboarding, right? Let me start getting ready.

Ignoring everything that happened, you both take turns in the bathroom to get ready and head to the lobby area. First, you stop in the gift shop and buy matching ‘I love Kashmir’ long-sleeve t-shirts to go under your hoodies, then proceed to the rental shop. You’re not thrilled while standing in line, dreading the cold and the effort and energy snowboarding takes, but your soul is soaking in the radiant smile coming from Hoseok.

To add more dread, you had hoped to look at least cute while being drained of all excitement, but the shop has the hottest trends from the 1990s in snow bibs, boots, and boards. You settle for the rose brown and black gear and a snowboard with a pale purple bottom. Hoseok, on the other hand, chose to pair the ugliest of every color together and call it ‘fashion.’ You won’t lose him in the crowd.

A few passes on the bunny slope, and you’re as ready as you’ll ever be. As you both glide over the lift, you look for the signage that informs riders which slopes are the easiest to hardest—usually, a color scale. Here, there are only signs stating zones one through four.

“How do we know where to get off?” you ask while staring, puzzled at the signs.

“Beginner slopes are always the first stop, I think.”

“Seok! I need facts, not guesses. Didn’t the brochure say the locals use the first one to get around to other villages?” Hoseok shrugs and continues with the flow of the line. When you reach the front of the line, Hoseok asks the operator where to get off and they confirm ‘one.’

“I guess it’ll be a surprise.” Your nerves are a wreck, and as much as you want to have fun, for Hoseok’s sake, you can’t get into the right mindset.

You both get off at the first stop and glide down the path to make way for others behind you when you quickly realize this slope is not for you. It’s not steep, but the rivets and snow conditions make it least favorable for a novice like yourself.

Hoseok yells that he’ll meet you at the bottom, and you watch as he gracefully swoops across the mountain slope. You watch a woman wearing neon teal pants drift delicately right behind him. How you wish that were you.

You ride on your heels the first bit, destroying your thigh muscles like lava is coursing through the veins. You glide to the side, out of the main path, and fall on your butt to take a break. Watching people pass by, even kids, you curse under your breath and hold back tears of frustration. A pep talk would be nice, but the one best at those just left you to your demise.

A few deep breaths, and one too many children passing you, gives you very little motivation but enough to hop back up and continue down the slope. Your thighs are on fire, but you alleviate the pain by using other muscles, which also gives more speed-- speed you don’t want. You panic and tense up, causing you to dig your toes too far into the snow, making the edge catch, and you brace for impact. You hit the ground face first, so hard your body goes into a forward roll; your goggles rip off as your head clashes with the firm snow, and all air expels from your lungs.

Hoseok yells your name a few times from behind and stops next to you frantically.

“Are you o– is there– are you hurt?!”

You take a few short breaths to test your lungs for proper functionality. Quietly you let out, “No but– that hurt. So fucking bad!” Then tears begin to prickle, and emotions are ready to boil over, “I’m done! I didn’t come here to be freezing my ass off in the snow or to be bundled up like this!” You break down into the ugliest of cries while your shoulders bounce up and down from the force of your sobs. “I wanna go back to the rooooooom,” you whine while sniveling.

You look at Hoseok through hazy eyes, but his face turns away from you. He is likely holding back a giggle in hopes of not upsetting you more. He clears his throat and faces you with a gentle smile and twinkle in his eyes. It soothes you enough that tears stop falling, and you begin to feel warm. Hoseok pats your head and uses his glove to wipe your face, then rests his hand on yours.

“Let’s take the boards off and walk down. I’ll get you some spiked hot chocolate.” You nod your head, and he unclasps your bindings first.

Walking down the mountain silently makes you feel bad for what you said.

At the bottom, you prop the boards in the holding area when the woman in neon pants appears. You watch as a scene from a drama unfolds, and before you know it, Hoseok is walking with her as they flirt back and forth. Your eyes dance between the two, noticing how smiley they are. You feel like an outsider. Your hand is balled tightly by your side, and when you can’t stand the pain of your nails digging into your palm any longer, you shake it off and walk past them into the lodge.

You order your drink and find a table to sit at. Jealousy has reared its ugly head, and you’re fighting with yourself. You shouldn’t feel this way. You can’t feel this way for your best friend. You take a sip and let the alcohol flush the jealousy down into the pit of your stomach.

Hoseok finds you and sits beside you with his body angled toward you. “Here you are. Why’d you leave?”

“If you want to keep riding, go ahead. I don’t want to make you miserable.”

He reaches up and places both hands on the sides of your cheeks. His thumbs swoop under your eyes, wiping the last remnants of tears. “I promise you. I’m having a great time.”

Radiant. His warm touch and kind words weave into your soul alongside the space occupied by his smile and laugh. Serene. Your body relaxes in the window seat and immediately feels every ache and pain from your tumble. You roll your neck around and pause in the areas that need more stretching.

“Do you want to get a massage?” He pulls out his phone, “I’m pretty sure I saw one here.”

“No, no. A good stretch and maybe the jacuzzi will be enough.” You both stare out the window at the snow-covered nature. Taking a gulp of courage, you say, “Sorry, Seok. What I said on the slope was mean, rude, and uncalled for.”

“Would you stop that? I had fun, now let’s do something you want. You wanna get in the jacuzzi then order in for dinner?” Hoseok notices how your eyes light up like a candle at the mention of food.

“Yes! Let’s get different dishes to try new stuff. Chicken and beef, maybe?” Now it’s your turn to pull out your phone and find the room service menu you took pictures of. “Oh, look, lamb! Butter chicken and lamb biryani? Or maybe curry? Oh! Hummus! And garlic naan! What?! There’s so much!”

“I love how excited you get over food.” He chuckles, “I’ll look up pictures, and if it looks good, we get it.”

You replay his words in your mind. Love. How did he mean that? Does he feel something like you? Or was it more of a friendly love? You glance his way, eyes soaking in his profile. You must’ve stared a little too long because he meets your gaze. Your eyes flit to his heart-shaped lips, and you can’t help but wonder if they feel as pillowy as they look.

“You okay?” His voice forces you to finally blink and look down at his phone.

“Yeah. This set looks good.” You point to a picture, and he takes a look.

“Okay. It’s settled. I’ll order while you’re getting blasted by the jets.”

Finished with your drinks, you return all the snow gear to the rental shop and head to the suite. Hoseok runs the water for you and turns on some of the flameless tea lights. He sets his phone in the corner, plays a Lofi Bollywood playlist, shuts off the light fixture, and walks out. You carry your bathing suit into the bathroom and close the door.

Hoseok lies on the couch, closes his eyes, and surrenders to the sound of the jets and soft music. He imagines the bubbles around your collarbones; your eyes closed, body relaxed. A throb sends a jolt through his stomach, but he places a hand on his groin and adjusts to calm himself down. You call for him, and his body freezes, lifting his head to ensure you’re not standing there.

“Come join me. I’m bored, and this music is so relaxing. I think you’ll enjoy it too.”

“I can hear it out here.”

“Please?”

There’s a flutter in his chest, and he’s changing to join you.

You smile at him as he walks through the threshold and close your eyes when he enters the basin. You both don’t say a word but enjoy every second of your closeness. The water feels electrified as you chat away.

Later, with bodies relaxed and bellies full, Hoseok pulls you into a hug on the couch.

“I hope you’re having an okay time. I’m excited to see all the cute dresses you packed for the beach tomorrow.”

“Any time spent with you is a great time, Seokie. Thanks for bringing me. I promise not to throw any more tantrums,” you chuckle at the last word and pinch his ribs in an effort to break away.

“Hey!” He laughs and smacks you with a pillow. “Wanna finish the night watching the sunset from the balcony? Then a nightcap by the fire?”

“Sounds perfect.”

You couldn’t think of any other way you’d love to spend the evening. Well, maybe cuddling again, but for now, sunset and a drink with your best friend, who you adore, and possibly more, sounds like a truly perfect night.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

A few hours later, Hoseok wakes to vibrations in the bed and discovers you shivering. He pulls the quilt up to your neck and wraps his limbs around you before feeling that you are soaked. He sits up, trying to see anything in the pitch black, getting his eyes to focus on you. He swipes his hand across your forehead and gasps at the heat that comes off you. He briskly walks to the bathroom, turns the light on low, then kneels by your bedside to better understand what’s happening. You whine as he tries to wake you.

He calls your name softly while rubbing a hand down your back, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“S–so cold,” you mutter as he watches sweat bead on your forehead.

“I’m gonna go get you medicine. Drink some of this water for now.” He helps sit you up against some pillows and slowly guides the water bottle to your lips. After a few sips, he hurries out of the room and to the lobby mini-mart in hopes of getting you something to aid in breaking your fever.

When he comes back into the room with two rustling bags, you look at his hands bewildered. He unpacks an array onto your side table: ginger tea, bananas, children’s applesauce squeeze bags, chicken noodle soup, a box of jello, orange juice, and Gatorade.

“I thought you were getting medicine?”

“I mean, these are the natural way, right? But I have more.” He grabs the second bag and unpacks a variety of cold medicine in liquid and pill forms.

“Seok! What–” Your head pounds at your words, and you close your eyes as if that will stop it. You take a deep breath, open your eyes and turn toward the side table. You reach for the box of jello and scoff, “How were you going to make this?”

“Hmm…not sure, but I will figure it out if you want it.” He grabs the box from you and starts reading the directions.

“Seok, I probably just have a cold from that kid sneezing on me. A fever at most; I’m not puking.”

“Right! Um…tea? Soup?”

“How about medicine and a cool rag so I can go back to sleep?” You smile at his thoughtfulness, but keeping your eyes open becomes more difficult.

Hoseok opens the medicine, opting for a liquid form, and brings it to your lips to drink. Then he grabs a cool cloth for you, places it over your forehead, and gently rubs his hand over your hair. You scoot down to lie comfortably and begin to relax again. You hear Hoseok rustling around, turning off lights, and getting changed for bed again. He snuggles up close to you, wrapping you in his hold. You can feel yourself drifting into dreamland when his hushed voice brushes the side of your neck.

“I went overboard, huh?”

“I didn’t expect anything less from my Seokie,” you whisper. He warms at your words and buries himself further into you. Even with a fever, you could still feel his radiance healing you deep inside.

Sometime in the twilight hours, Hoseok woke again, but this time you were talking…or more like mumbling. He raised his head and blinked heavily several times to ward off the grogginess.

“I like your lips.” He heard you say softly.

“Hm?” he asked quietly.

“Heart-shaped clouds. Pretty clouds.” He grinned, feeling a kaleidoscope swarm in his belly, then leaned into you and kissed your cheek. He watched as a smile swept across your lips and thought you looked like an angel, fast asleep.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

The next morning you feel like a brand new person. You stretch and realize Hoseok isn’t next to you. You sit up, and just as you’re about to call for him, he walks in with a beaming smile and a mug of ginger tea. He hands it to you as you make room for him to sit.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. How are you feeling?”

“So much better! I’m glad it was just overnight. We have so much more to see!”

Hoseok clears his throat and looks toward the ground, “Do you happen to remember what you dreamt about last night?”

“Dream?” You think for a few seconds, “I don’t think I had any,” you lie, bringing the mug to your mouth. You did remember. However, you weren’t going to tell him you dreamt of his lips, soft and pillowy, pressed against yours. Or how his hands felt like heaven as they rested on your waist while his tongue moved slowly over yours. A heat was creeping up your neck from the recollection.

“None at all?”

“Nope. Why?”

“No reason. I just thought I heard you say something in your sleep.” Hoseok snickers and hops off the bed.

“What? What did I say?”

Hoseok sing-songs from the other room, “Just nonsense.”

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

Today was a smidge warmer than the others, and for that, you were thankful because Hoseok was still dead set on taking a shikara ride on Dal Lake. With your suitcases in the trunk, the taxi made its way to Srinagar. You asked the driver about the weather and how cold it may be on the lake. He reassured you the boatmen would have blankets to help keep you warm.

When you arrived, the scenic view took your breath away. The snow-capped mountains staggered along the horizon against an unblemished blue sky, towering over their reflection on the lake. Your suitcases were taken to a houseboat for courtesy storage, and you both set foot on the shikara—a beautiful wooden yellow boat with a half-bed on one side and a bench on the other. The cushion is covered in red velvet with a black floral print, and the boat’s roof has vibrant blue curtains draping down but drawn back elegantly so you can see the scenery. As you get comfortable among the cushions, the man hands you a rich red and gold-toned blanket.

The man rows and speaks, “Welcome to the second-largest lake in the Kashmir valley. We call it the ‘Jewel in the crown of Kashmir’.”

“May I ask why?” you question.

“Well, not only is it an important source of fishing and water plant harvesting, but it’s also a beautiful, tranquil piece of nature. It sits against the backdrop of the gorgeous Himalayas.”

He continued to explain that people live in the houseboats lined along the bank. How the lake was usually bustling in the warmer months with floating markets and locals selling food and drinks. A few were working, but it wasn’t worth it without many tourists. He rowed to a houseboat with a shop where you bought hot tea and then navigated to a souvenir market where you bought a few trinkets for memories.

The guide continued his journey around the lake while you and Hoseok snapped pictures and awed at the beauty over and over. With the Himalayas in the background, the guide slows the boat to a stop and gestures toward a chest full of garments, traditional Kashmiri attire with authentic accessories.

“Would you like to put some on for a picture?”

“Oh! Um it’s–” you begin, but the guide cuts you off.

“Honeymoon package, yes?” You and Hoseok look at each other and smile.

“Right…yes.” You reach for a magenta ghunghat with a gold embroidered border and drape it over your head, “Like this?”

“Yes, yes. Beautiful.” The guide takes a few shots at different angles and then commands, “Now kiss.”

“I’m sorry?!” You both bark but with smiles.

“Newlywed pose! You must kiss with this background.” The man gestures his hand around, emphasizing the beautiful scenery.

While he’s right about the scenery, you can’t help but wonder if he would be offended if you said there was a mistake. You’re not really newlyweds. You turn toward Hoseok, who is already grinning from ear to ear. Hoseok giggles and you can feel your body flush, even in the cold air.

“It’s just a kiss,” Hoseok says calmly. The way the words and your name flow from his mouth is music to your ears. They float around your head and cause a dizzy spell as his lips creep toward yours. The subtle touch of his lips sends you into a freefall from the top of the mountain. Your heart shivers as he ignites a flame, thawing winter and bringing spring to life.

The guide clears his throat, and Hoseok pulls away first. Just a kiss that has now set a fire within your heart.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

There was mostly small talk from Dal Lake to the airport and even less on the plane to Goa. You didn’t want to talk about your feelings, especially with the one who ignited them and probably didn’t feel the same.

You watched episode after episode but had no idea what the story was because you were playing the kiss repeatedly in your mind. You tried to nap but were restless from the lingering tingle of that moment. Hoseok, on the other hand, was sound asleep. One more reason you knew he didn’t feel anything.

Hoseok faked being asleep, shoving his feelings away and jamming them so far down they couldn’t threaten to escape in a confession right there in row seven. He would peek and steal glimpses of you, and when you had your eyes closed, he would trace his finger over his lips, craving to taste your strawberry lip balm again, yearning to feel– whatever that feeling was deep in his stomach when your mouth molded to his.

The taxi ride to the beachfront hotel is full of excitement. Already the weather was hotter, and you could smell the salt in the air. You hung your hand out of the open window, making the slightest little movements to your fingers to let the wind carry your hand into ‘catching waves.’ Hoseok basked in your happiness and watched the wind breeze across your face and jostle loose strands of hair.

Check-in to the hotel was smooth, and you were given yet another honeymoon suite, much like a villa. Although this time, you couldn’t complain. You felt like a liar but also spoiled and enjoyed every minute. This luxury villa has its own personal plunge pool surrounded by tropical plants and flowers. The lush lawn surrounding the pool and the gorgeous view of the sea from the verandah made the setting a romantic oasis.

Staring out at sea, Hoseok’s hand brushes your lower back, sending chills down your spine. “What do you want to do tonight?” he asks softly.

“You wanna just hang out here and adventure out tomorrow? We could swim and eat dinner. There’s still a few hours before sunset; maybe we could watch it from here?” You feel yourself rambling, but if you stopped, the feelings from earlier would surely emerge again. Your mind begins spiraling, wondering if staying in was a bad idea. Maybe out in public, you wouldn’t be nervous, you would be able to act normal. “Or–”

“I like that idea,” Hoseok quickly cements the plan to be together, alone, in your villa.

Not much later, you’ve ordered a pitcher of a coconut-based cocktail to drink during your swim. Dinner and wine are set to be delivered before sunset. Music plays while Hoseok lays on an inflatable pool float, and you lay on a chaise to soak in some of the sun you’ve been dying to stain your skin. Twenty scorching minutes later, you’re ready to cool off. You reach for Hoseok’s cup and pour both of you another before setting the pitcher closer to the pool’s edge and make your way into the refreshing water.

Hoseok has been watching from behind his sunglasses. The way the sun illuminates your skin and accentuates every curve. The barely there bathing suit covers just enough, letting his imagination go wild, too wild. An ache arises between his legs, and he groans before falling into the water to cool off and calm down.

You walk over to Hoseok’s float, and he swims to meet you there. Handing him both glasses over the float, you dip into the water and then rest your arms on the other side.

“What is on your agenda here, Seokie?”

“Mmmm, well, I thought you would just want to lay on the beach all day, so I didn’t actually plan anything. There’s water sports, some old monuments, and lots of clubs and parties. I think I saw something about a sunset cruise.”

“While all that sounds interesting…I am only interested in sun, sand, and saltwater! But, for you, my Seokie, I will make an exception for parties and maybe a cruise.”

You raise your glass toward Hoseok, and he matches your gesture, clinking his glass against yours. You both chug back the contents, finishing the liquid. Hoseok takes the cups to the side of the pool and fills them again.

“Let’s go sit in the little nook.” Hoseok nods toward the built-in bench. It’s so tranquil; you both are leaning back, eyes closed, with your arms resting on the stone surrounding the pool. Hoseok speaks first, “I kinda like when you call me your Seokie.”

Your heart gallops at the sound of his voice. Slowly, you open your eyes and turn your head, catching sight of his lips. Your bottom lip curls between your teeth, but as your eyes rise, something catches your attention over his shoulder: a not-so-cute gecko inches from his arm.

“It’s a cute nickname, yeah? Can we switch seats? I think the sun is better where you are.” You tell a quick fib hoping to keep him calm. “I’ll go over you; just slide this way.”

Hoseok obliges, and as you’re straddling his lap. His eyes can’t help but fixate on your chest. He lets out a huff of air which hits between your breasts, triggering goosebumps to rush over your skin. You ignore the sensation and cup some water in your hand to splash the reptile away, but Hoseok’s hand touches your leg lightly, drawing your attention. You look down at him with dreamy eyes. His candied hazelnut richness sticks to your soul and pulls your heart with its gooey sap. Your skin tingles as you recall the kiss on the lake while his other hand slowly slides up your other leg.

Then, the universe had other plans, changing time into slow motion.

The gecko betrays you, moving just enough to attract attention. Hoseok jerks under you, squeals, and stands up, sending you back into the pool. As you swim back to the nook, Hoseok prances and yips his way back into the villa.

You giggle and rise to your feet to step out and refill drinks. You call out while pouring the last of the cocktail mix, “Seokie, it’s safe!”

He peeks his head out of the cracked door, “You sure?”

“Yes, scaredy cat, come on.”

Hoseok slowly walks out, watching where he steps, then takes the glass from you. “Dinner should be here soon. We should get cleaned up and go inside.”

“I wanna watch the sunset while we eat.”

“We can see it from the window. There are things out here.”

“I thought we were gonna do what I wanted since I endured the freezing cold and went snowboarding and got sick,” you whine.

Hoseok’s lips stretch in a straight line across his face, and his dimples make a full display. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says, moving toward you to grab your hands with his. “For you, I will eat with the creatures.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you scoff and try to pull away, but Hoseok doesn’t let go. You scrunch your eyebrows and search his face for a reason, but he only smiles with a gaze that caresses your soul. Hoseok seems like he wants to say something, so you wait; his mouth opens as the doorbell sounds.

“Food delivery.” Hoseok releases your hands and walks toward the door. You stand there for a second longer, trying to assess what just happened.

The food is brought in by multiple staff and laid out gorgeously on the dinette, and each dish has a tag placed next to it with a description. An oversized center plate has fish thali and a few smaller plates and bowls with rice, crab masala, butter-garlic calamari, vindaloo, and naan. They also placed dessert trays full of sweet bread with perad– or guava cheese– sweet turmeric cakes called patoleo, and a bowl of melted chocolate surrounded by coconut cookies. To make things even better, two bottles of alcohol that are popular in the area, coconut Feni and a rich Syrah wine from a local vineyard, are provided with the food.

The staff leaves and your stomach rumbles in the silence. Apparently loud enough for Hoseok to hear as well.

“Wow! You must really be hungry. I’ll make the plates; you pour the drinks.”

Time passes too quickly while eating on the verandah. The two of you have yet to run out of things to talk about, and this new adventure to India has just given you even more to discuss.

Delicious food, full-bodied wine, and a sunset later, you take a dip in the pool one last time before heading to bed. It’s illuminated with soft purple lights, giving off a milky way appearance. Hoseok sets up the Lofi Bollywood playlist again, and you both float peacefully together.

When the peppery syrah runs out, you’re both tipsy and a little tired from being in the sun for most of the day. You both have kept your distance, mostly just floating on the pool floats and admiring the star-studded sky. When you both decide to clean up and call it a night, you stumble inside after each other, laughing and pulling at one another to get to the shower first.

Hoseok wins by a quick battle of rock, paper, scissors and is off to shower first. You take another gander at the food and do some picking before grabbing your clothes to change into.

When Hoseok walks out with only a towel, your mind goes blank while your eyes fixate on a few drops of water beading along his v-line. He voices it’s your turn, and you quickly grab your clothes, beelining to the bathroom. Hoping the warm water would sober you up before bed was wishful thinking. When you step out to grab your towel, you lose your balance, bang into the wall, and start giggling to yourself.

“You okay in there? Did you fall?”

“Nope! Just a little…bump. I’m fine!”

“Do you need…help?”

“No! I’m not dressed, Seok! Don’t come in!” You can feel your cheeks flush a hot crimson while you dry off. Why is his voice so sexy right now? You wrap the towel around you and look in the mirror, then tap your hands on your face a few times. The sound of music grabs your attention, so you snap out of it and reach for your clothes. Only to find there is just a T-shirt. Somehow you forgot underwear. You shake your head and put your shirt on, realizing it’s not yours.

Well, this will be awkward. You open the door and scan the room for Hoseok, but he must be in the other room. Before he notices, you beeline to your suitcase to find your hairbrush, undergarments, and another shirt that’s not his. You find everything and turn to go back into the bathroom.

“Is that my shirt?” he asks from the threshold. You wince at being caught red-handed.

“I accidentally grabbed it! Sorry! I know you hate when people wear your clothes. I came out to get my shirt, and I will change.” You lift your hand to show your shirt and inch back to the bathroom, but something holds you back. Hoseok’s hand is around your wrist, keeping you in place.

“Let’s go dance.”

“Let me finish getting dressed.”

“Nope!” Hoseok pulls you into the other room, where he’s moved some furniture and made space for dancing. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until he pulled you into him, taking the items from your hand and tossing them onto the nearby chair. That’s when you see you grabbed a lacey lavender thong instead of the boy shorts you usually wear when sleeping. Embarrassed, you go to hide them, but he keeps a firm grip.

“Seok, I need to finish getting dressed.”

“You’re dressed enough. Dance with me,” he whines, and you search his eyes for any hint of his mood.

“You’re kinda cute when you whine,” you tease and bop his nose with your finger.

“And you’re kinda cute in my shirt.”

His words take you by surprise, and you look away but his hand catches your chin and pulls your attention back to him. You look into each other’s eyes as he sways you back and forth. He smiles and you feel warmth bore into your skin. He removes the towel from your head and drops it to the ground. Your mind is already foggy from the wine, but now this– whatever this is– adds to the cloud. He raises your hand above your head, making you spin. You clutch at the hem of your shirt as it lifts, exposing the side of your upper thigh and buttcheek. Hoseok pulls you back into him, face to face, and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, maintaining eye contact. You’re dizzy; from the wine or the spin, maybe both. The music you forgot was playing stops abruptly, and you both stutter-step, clashing your feet together.

“I guess we’re tipsy, huh?” he says just above your ear. “Maybe we should get to bed. We have to wake up early for the tour, right?” He hugs you tight, then walks toward the bedroom, leaving you standing there with your thoughts. Your body, hotter than the sun, almost collapses under your weak knees.

Completely forgetting about your hair and undergarments, you follow in his footsteps. All of the lights are off save for the one on your side of the bed. Hoseok is waiting for you, covers lifted for you to get in. You sit on the bed and reach to turn the light out, then assume the position you’ve been sleeping in for days. As you scoot back into Hoseok, his arm rests just under your breasts, his hand sliding between your ribs and the bed. You can feel how the shirt has bunched under his arm, and the hem rests just above the bottom of your butt.

Hoseok thinks about how close he was to kissing you again, feeling your lips rest on his. He can feel how doughy your breasts feel on his arm, and he’s fighting the urge to squeeze them in his hands. He imagines how they would fit perfectly in his palm, his fingers massaging into your flesh. He tilts his pelvis back a little, feeling a sensation between his legs, and he lets out a sigh.

Hoseok’s breath tickles the back of your ear, sending a vibration down your spine, your back arches sending your ass into his half-hardened member. He pulls his lower half back from you and rests his forehead on your shoulder.

“S–sorry, Seok.”

“Please be still,” he whispers.

Hoseok raises his head only for his wet lips to catch the skin on your neck. You gasp and stir again, sending his hips into a frenzy. Unable to ignore the feeling, he tugs at your earlobe with his teeth. Your hips roll again, this time against a rock-hard Hoseok. He lets out a shaky breath, and his arm across your chest pulls you closer.

“I want you,” he mutters along with your name against the crook of your neck before dusting your neck and shoulder with his lips. He pulls his arm from your chest and brushes the underside of your breasts. His hand traces your ribs and follows the curve of your body. He stops on your hip, digs his fingers into your flesh, then does the same to your breasts while slowly thrusting into your backside. He feels good. Too good. He pushes himself up onto his elbow and pulls you under him.

It’s dark, but he still searches for your eyes when he places his hands on either side of your head, then lowers his body onto you. His lips, those beautiful lips, push onto yours and part them just enough for his tongue to swipe across yours. You follow his lead and press your tongue to his, your hand snaking up to his nape and the other dragging your nails down his back. Hoseok shivers and moans, moving one hand to your ass, pulling you into his throbbing manhood. He grinds against your aroused button and swallows the mewl that escapes your mouth.

You feel euphoric, and part of you wants to go all in with Hoseok. The sober part realizes this may just be the alcohol speaking. You wouldn’t regret it, but what if he will? What if his flirty self isn’t thinking straight and is just being a man chasing his sexual desires in the moment? Hoseok lets go of your ass and moves his thumb against your core; he coats his thumb in your slick and uses it to slide against your nub with intense pressure and slow rubbing. Juicy lips wedge together between his tongue, languidly dragging it along yours.

“Wait, Seok. Wait,” you mumble against his lips breathlessly. He stills and meets your eyes. “May–maybe we should wait until we’re both completely sober.”

Hoseok passionately kisses you again, following an imaginary line down your jaw to your neck. He sucks the skin into his mouth gently. “Is that what you want?” His teeth graze your clavicle, then he nibbles and chuckles at your arching body. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

His weight is crushing you, much like the words– suffocating your senses– and there is no way out. There isn’t enough air to help you overcome the punch to the gut. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It sounds like something someone would say when they were just scratching that itch.

“I–I think it’s best,” your voice trails off like you have more to say, but you don’t know what else to say.

“Okay. You’re probably right.” He briefly stays on top of you, then slides off to your side. “I’m sorry if I crossed the line.”

“That’s not it… I don’t want us to regret anything we did while intoxicated.”

“Makes sense.” There’s a long pause before he continues, “Can I still use you as my body pillow?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

It doesn’t have to mean anything. Easy for him to say.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

The four days in Goa are going quickly, too quickly. You’ve mostly spent them relaxing on the beach, finding adorable cafes, and avoiding what happened and what was said the first night. Even though you said you only wanted to sunbathe and party, you made sure to experience the local culture.

You walked a beautiful heritage tour through a place blending Portuguese and Indian traditions. The quaint streets were lined with traditional Portuguese-style homes in a palette of bold, bright colors—breathtaking preservation of heritage amongst modern development.

One day also consisted of a bus ride to the jungle and trekking to a waterfall. The private tour guide told you the water had minerals like a natural spa where you could sit and relax to rejuvenate, but they forgot to mention the little fish that would surround you, and Hoseok’s scream was too embarrassing to stay.

Today was your last full day, and you were determined to soak up every last second you could in the sun. The morning was spent walking along the shoreline, and this afternoon was spent by the pool. You promised Hoseok tonight would be spent at the club because it was the last night to do so. He wanted to dance badly.

You made sure to have enough time for a shower and a nap. The nap turned into another cuddle session that was quickly becoming your favorite way to sleep. The way Hoseok’s body molded to yours felt too good ever to let go. You were also growing accustomed to his warmth and how his lips would sometimes skim over your skin. But you kept a wall around your heart again, only thinking of it as a friendly snuggle.

It was time to get ready for the club, so you took your outfit into the bathroom. Hoseok gets dressed into his white button-down shirt and yellow shorts, then begins making pregame drinks, and you can hear him making little sounds while he concentrates. It made you recall a few nights ago; you heard little moans while his body subtly rutted into yours. You didn’t wake him or mention it because it was thrilling and made you want more. You wanted to take his hand and place it where you really needed to feel the friction...

“Do you need help in there?” Hoseok says right outside the door.

You shook your head, looking in the mirror, wondering when you even got dressed. Your outfit was a khaki knit romper. It was backless save for the lace-up string to hold it in place. It looked perfect against your tanned skin with gold hoop earrings and three layered gold necklaces. Keeping your hands behind your back, you realize you need help tying it.

Holding the top, you opened the door with one hand behind your back. “I do, actually,” you swallow hard, noticing his bulged eyes, “can you –uh– tie it, please?”

Hoseok couldn’t blink. His brain was malfunctioning, and his heart was tearing through his chest. He stumbled backward, then nodded his head yes. You turned slowly, and his eyes roamed every millimeter of your figure. The khaki color accentuated your tan, the perfect sun-kissed, silky skin. He tied the strings and noticed how the shorts ended just below your ass cheeks. He spun you around and looked at the front.

“Y–you can’t wear this,” he said barely above a whisper.

“Hm? Why not?” You turn toward the mirror, twisting, looking for something wrong.

“It’s basically see-through!” he scolds.

“I have pasties on…can you see them? Can you see my underwear?”

Hoseok feels like he’s going to have a cardiac episode. “No. Well, I mean–I– I don’t know. I’m not looking that hard.”

“Well, look! I need to make sure before we go out.”

He steps back again, and you feel naked under his gaze as you slowly turn, making sure everything is in place.

“One bend or squat and your ass will be out.”

“Who cares? Not like we’re going to see these people ever again.”

“Right. Okay, looks good. I’m just gonna pee before we go.” He walks into the bathroom and closes the door.

Now you’re wondering if the outfit is too much. You walk into the bedroom, check yourself out, and decide you look hot and ready to party. Something else crosses your mind as you let your thoughts drift to the other night, how Hoseok raked his hands over your body. How you molded into him while your tongues did the tango. When one of his hands caressed your breast and the other sought to pleasure you? The excitement ends when you also recall, ‘It doesn’t have to mean anything’.

You snap out of it when you hear the bathroom door open, “Ready for the drinks?” he calls out. You both down some shots, quickly sip the cocktails, and then start walking to the club.

You both arrive at the club tipsy and giggly. The booming bass takes over your bodies, and you float rhythmically to grab a drink and then hit the dance floor. Dancing together feels good. His sparkling smile penetrates your heart like the sun’s rays penetrate the Earth’s atmosphere. Drunk off the excitement, and you find yourselves getting closer and closer. You’ve slowed from the beat and look up into his eyes, glossed over from bliss. He leans down as if to say something but the song changes.

He can’t stop his body from reacting, and he’s off to a new dance, showing off his skills… Jay has arrived. He finishes his drink, nudging you to do the same, then sets the empty cups on a nearby table. His sultry steps stalk toward you and turn you around, pressing himself against your backside. You gasp at the sudden movement but flow perfectly with him. His hands rest on your hips, fingers applying pressure to your hip bones. He grinds into you slowly, and you feel the slightest bulge. You push your ass into him and hear a slight hiss escape his mouth. His one arm snakes around your shoulders while the other hand firmly rests on your belly, holding you in place. He grinds into you again and brings his lips to your ear, “You look irresistible in this outfit.”

Your breath hitches, and your back arches away from him, causing your ass to press against him again. He moans your name softly, “Be careful, or we may have to call it a night.”

Overwhelmed by impulsive thoughts and the cracks in the wall around your heart, you giggle and turn in his arms, “Maybe we should…get water? I’ll be right back.” You walk off the dance floor and head to the bar.

You ask for ice while the bartender makes cups of iced water. You grab a cube and drag it along your clavicle to cool off; the water glistens on your skin. Once the bartender places your drinks in front of you, you turn to find Hoseok in the crowd before you start walking.

When you finally spot the back of his yellow shorts, you smile and begin to turn toward the drinks when you see hands with hot-pink nail polish grasping Hoseok’s neck. You watch the hands play at his hairline and swear you hear his distinctive chuckle over the booming music.

The sinking feeling in your stomach tells you to run away. You look back at the drinks on the bar and reach for your water. When the cup gets to your lips, you realize you’re trembling. The neon lights become dizzying, so you follow your gut and leave.

Walking along the shoreline, shoes in hand, the sea laps at your feet, each impression erased. You stand still, facing the water, once a vibrant blue full of life, now slumbers in a dreamy black robe. The moon casts its light in a pathway, calling you to walk its passage to serenity.

You step away from the water, find dry sand to sit on, and plop down onto it. The sand retreats into your shorts, but you don’t care. Your eyes stay fixated on the moonlit path until self-made salt water trickles down your cheek.

You fell carelessly in love with someone that you’re not sure was even capable of doing the same. “Who was I kidding?” You speak softly to the moon, dig your feet further into the sand, and wrap your arms around your legs.

Back at the club, Hoseok feels dehydrated from all the dancing and leaves the dance floor to find you. After two laps around the place and asking women outside the bathroom if you’re inside, he starts walking out. He thinks back to when he last saw you, going for water, and then he got distracted dancing. Not just dancing– dancing with another woman. “I’m an idiot!” Hoseok nearly sprints out of the club on a mission to find you.

Clouds slowly roll across the sky, obstructing the moon and the moonlit path vanishing. The shots from earlier have worn off quicker than you’d hoped, and it’s getting chilly sitting by the water with little clothes on. You brush the sand off your butt and legs, grab your shoes in one hand, wrap your arms around yourself, then start walking toward the villa.

From a distance, Hoseok ardently calls your name. You turn toward his voice and watch as he races toward you. His body slams into yours, almost knocking you over, but his arms hold you tightly in place.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“The ocean was calling me. And you... You seemed a little preoccupied.” You step out of his hold. “Plus, seeing you dance like that with someone else– after saying– I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“Am I crazy, Hoseok? I know we both feel there’s more to this... more to us.”

“You’re not crazy. I feel it too. I–”

“You’re confusing, you know? You flirt with me all day but then do the same with other women. You’re all over me in bed and on the dance floor but then dance the same way with someone else. It hurts, and I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“I’m an idiot, I know. But please, please let me fix this. I–” Hoseok stops talking and stares into your eyes, searching your soul for the words.

“You what? Want to have your cake and eat it too? I don’t want to be your toy.”

“I meant what I said the other night, granted it wasn’t the right timing, but I do want you–”

“Forget it, Hoseok! Let’s just pretend nothing happened and go back–”

“I don’t want that. I want you in more ways than just sex. If anything, this trip has brought us so much closer, and I can’t imagine not waking up next to you, and I don’t want it to end.”

Unsure of what to say or if you should believe him, he was the one who said it didn’t have to mean anything, and now he says this. Your eyes brim with tears as raindrops prickle your skin. Hoseok looks up at the clouds and scoffs at the inconvenience. The rain falls steadily, drenching the two of you and masking your tears.

Hoseok grabs your hand and pulls you along while running back to the villa.

Neither of you say a word on the way back, yet your minds are not silent. When you enter the door, you gently slide off of Hoseok’s back and straighten your romper down. He turns to face you and runs his hand through his wet hair, pushing it back from his face. He toes off his shoes, keeping his eyes on you, and then dashes for the bathroom coming back with a towel and robe.

“I wasn’t sure which one you may want.”

“Thank you,” you mumble.

Hoseok watches you sluggishly dry your hair as much as you can, then puts his hands on yours and takes the towel. He dabs your face, slowly moving down your body, removing as much water as possible from your satiny skin. When he’s finished at your feet, he looks up at you, eyes warm and inviting like a cup of coffee. You swear you can see hearts dancing in the richness of his irises.

He drops the towel, removes his shirt, and stands before you. You can tell he’s nervous before his hand lands on your cheek, spreading his warmth into your skin.

He holds your hands and rests his forehead on yours, “I made stupid decisions, but I promise you, I am stupid for you. I’m scared I ruined everything when in reality, I wanna be with you. More than friends, more than a hookup. I want to be your partner.”

“Seok–”

“I never should have said, ‘it didn’t have to mean anything’, because it would always mean something to me. I regretted the words the minute they came out but didn’t want to dig myself deeper.”

You pull away slightly to better see his face, attempting to find whatever answer your heart seeks.

“Yes, I swear. I have wanted to confess my feelings to you for years–”

“Years!?” You swat at his chest and step back, but he doesn’t let you get far, pulling at your hips.

“I love our friendship and working with you. I was afraid my feelings would ruin what we had, but then it felt like you maybe had those feelings too. Instead of talking to you about it, I tried to hide it in other ways that ended up hurting you and almost lost you. I will never let that happen again.”

Hoseok leans in and presses his plump lips to yours, the air from his nose tickling your upper lip. You fuse your lips to his, and the kiss radiates your surroundings, the dark, damp room now ambient and forgiving. Your body molds to his as sweet tingles of butterflies escape the crumbling wall around your heart. Hoseok lifts you onto him with his lips still pressed to yours, and your arms wrap around his shoulders. He walks gingerly to the bed and lowers you down onto it. His mouth breaks away from yours and moves to your breasts, barely held in by the top of the romper. His tongue outlines the mounds as his hand feverishly runs along your thigh.

He murmurs your name, “Please be my partner…my lover?” He stills his hand and sprinkles kisses up to your neck.

You giggle at the tickle, “Yeah, I’ll be yours, Seok.” You can feel his smile broaden against your skin before he lifts his head and looks at you.

“One more thing…a favor.”

“Hm?”

“Call me Jay when we’re in this kinda mood.”

“Okay?” Your curious tone prompts him for more.

“It turns me on, and I wanna hear it from your pretty mouth,” he coos before swiping your bottom lip with his tongue.

Hoseok stands, eyes roaming your body, and pulls you up to do the same. His hand reaches behind you, untying the strap and letting the top of your romper loosely fall. The material sits on your hips before you push it down, letting it fall to your feet. Hoseok grins at the sight of your pasties, and you hide your face behind your hands.

He tugs gently at your hands and pulls you into him, swaying into a dance. He kisses your forehead and then twists you, placing your back against his chest. Your body melts into him as his hands explore, and teeth nip at your ear. Hoseok begins to bend you forward, pressing your body into the mattress. You put your hands out to soften the fall onto the bed, and they slide above your head. Hoseok admires the sight before he lowers himself onto you, pressing his semi-hard cock into the crack of your ass and sliding a hand down your arm until his hand intertwines with yours.

You lift your body, making him adjust so you can roll onto your back. Pulling his face into yours, you place soft kisses along his cheeks and jaw. He grinds against the thin cotton between your legs and squeezes your breast. You let out a slight noise that ignites his desire, and soon enough, his mouth is ravishing anywhere it can reach, stirring fire within you.

“Mmm, Jay.”

Hoseok stops abruptly at the words that escaped your lips. His forehead collapses against yours, “Say it again.” He peels the pasties off your nipples and pushes your breasts together, licking the crease between them. He sucks the skin into his mouth hard enough to leave his mark, then moves onto a nipple and nibbles lightly before swirling his tongue around it. He sucks it and releases it with a popping sound. You squirm under him as he does the same to the other breast.

“Fuck, Jay.” His body turns to jello– weakened by your whisper– falling limp on you.

“It sounds better than I could’ve ever imagined.” He slides a finger into your underwear and pulls it off you. Kisses linger on your skin from your breasts to your stomach. His warm breath is on your thigh, and your body shivers under the heat.

His mouth sweeps your folds, and he licks a long, unhurried stroke. Your legs shake, and your hands fly into his hair. His tongue flicks at your swelling nub as mewls escape your lips.

“Jay, please.”

He continues flickering his tongue and makes eye contact with you, raising one eyebrow. “Hmm?” The moan sends vibrations up your spine and a whine from your chest. You grab the sides of his head and steady him as you rock your hips against his face. He chuckles, sending your body into a frenzy. You moan his name repeatedly until you climax, dropping your hands, but he continues. You whine and wiggle out of his grasp when it becomes too much.

Hoseok lets you come down a little before repositioning on top of you. You can feel his thickness against your leg, you push his underwear down until he takes it off. He kneels between your legs, and you watch as he pumps his cock a few times, eyes trained on you. He leans down with his hands on either side of you, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Blissed out, you can only mumble a resemblance of a response. Hoseok laughs and an iridescent aura overtakes your body, giving you more energy to continue.

“Can you handle a little more of Jay?” he quirks. You bite your bottom lip and nod your head. He eases into you; his cock drags along your walls, filling you deliciously. “Fuuu…so wet and tight.” He lulls, waiting patiently for you to adjust to him, and peppers soft kisses onto your mouth.

His hips pull back slowly and gently push back into you. His tongue pushes in the same movement against yours. He swallows all of the moans slipping from your throat. Lewd sounds are coming from each movement, and he groans, “Do you hear that? I’m gonna cum so fast.”

Hoseok holds himself up off of you and quickens his pace. Your tits bounce with each thrust, along with little sounds leaving you; he’s close.

You hiss and moan his name again as you hit another high. When he feels your walls throbbing against him, he lets go, not stopping until every drop is out of him. He rests on you, staying buried in your warmth.

Hoseok nibbles along your shoulder, then bestows tenderhearted kisses up your neck, landing on your mouth. You drink him in like a refreshing iced tea on a hot summer day.

He mutters your name against your neck, “That was even more amazing than I’d ever imagined...and trust me that's been a lot.” His smile against your skin radiates happiness into your bones, a feeling overwhelmingly pleasant.

“Mmhmm. I think India is my new favorite place. It's beautiful here, even the cold part, and the memories are enough for a lifetime," you pause for a moment, your fingers combing through his fluffy hair, "and I really like this too."

Hoseok suppresses a laugh, letting out a puff of air, “Me too, but it's only my favorite because I'm with you.” He kisses your shoulder and finds one of your hands to wrap his fingers around yours.

The two of you lay there, one hand interlocked and the other tracing each other’s bodies, gentle kisses on exposed skin, letting this new experience seep into your core memories. Like traveling to a new place for the first time and becoming deeply smitten with a new, beautiful place.

You look at Hoseok’s face, his eyes closed and soft features aglow, even in the dark. His smile is your favorite sight and his laugh is your favorite sound. He is easily your favorite adventure.

☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

Namaste Collab Masterlist

Glossary:

Ladoos- traditional Indian dessert is made with different types of flour that are mixed with sugar and shortening, then shaped into balls.

Sweet boondi- fried gram flour balls soaked in flavored sugar syrup.

Kaju katli- a cookie-like Indian sweet made from a dough consisting largely of ground cashew nuts; the name translates as "cashew slice."

Shikara- a wooden, flat-bottom boat

Ghunghat- head covering or headscarf

Vindaloo- Indian curry dish, which is originally from Goa, based on the Portuguese dish

Fish thali- complete meal consisting of Rice, fish curry, fried fish, and veggies

Feni- a liquor indigenous to the state of Goa, India. The two most popular types are cashew and coconut.

#namaste bangtan collab #namaste bangtan #moonleeai writes sometimes #hoseok x reader #hoseok fanfic #hoseok smut #sexy JAY

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