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yoonjinkooked · 2 years

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Enter Sandman | myg | part 1

⤐ Title: Enter Sandman

⤐ Synopsis: After many failed attempts at battling your sleeping troubles, you follow the recommendation of your previous doctor and search for a solution to your problems in what can only be described as alternative medicine. Nothing could have prepared you for Yoongi and his very… unconventional methods.

Sandman (n) - a mythical character in European folklore who puts people to sleep and encourages and inspires beautiful dreams by sprinkling magical sand onto their eyes.

⤐ Pairing: Sandman / Therapist / Special Tea Maker Yoongi x female reader

⤐ Genre: supernatural | smut | angst

⤐ Sin: Sloth

⤐ Part 1 WC: 12.9k

Part of a Seven Deadly Sins collab hosted by @yutasgalaxy @thebiasrekkers Admin T & @sugasbabiie

⤐ General warnings of the fic: smut, graphic depictions of sex, masturbation (f), a lot of vivid masturbation fantasies, wet dreams, language, reader has major issues with sleep and its quality, mentions of alternative medicine (tho Yoongi doesn’t really do that here)

⤐ Part 1 warnings: open discussions about masturbation, wet dreams, major sleeping issues, masturbation (f), fantasies, implication of Yoongles masturbating too, explicit sex in dreamland, unhealthy life habits (sleep, random bursts of hunger), cursing, most of the smut left for part 2, a massage that is not supposed to be sexual but it does turn the reader on a bit, she’s into hands cause it’s Yoongi

A/N: I AM NOT A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL OF ANY KIND. Which is exactly why I try to not use the word insomnia. What I am trying to describe is just someone who very much can sleep but can’t do it properly or as often as they’d like. Much like me RIP. However, this is very very likely not an accurate description of insomnia BECAUSE IT’S NOT WHAT I’M WRITING.

Banner: The very amazing and super talented @btssmutgalore

Beta(s): @joyfulhopelox and @lavienjin read and helped out with the earlier drafts of this monster and I can’t thank them enough. And last, but absolutely not the least, my #1 helper and tutor and everything, really @avveh. I couldn’t have done this without you. Ever.

Taglist will be at the bottom and is the last one I’m doing so if you want to be notified for PT2, do let me know but for other stuff, you’ll just have to lurk, loves.

Directly in front of you, at the very end of an unusually long driveway, sits the exact house that Dr. Kim had described to you in detail, earlier this week. As he had warned you, it was a long drive, but the house in question might just hold the only answer to your problems. Or, at the very least, your last attempt at solving said problems.

“I know this might strike you as... a little bit unusual,” Namjoon began, resting his hands on the large desk between you, his fingers nervously tapping on the wooden surface. You noticed the action immediately; of course, you did. The tapping, something that should be nothing more than a passing sound, held your attention, no matter how much you tried to keep your focus on his voice. “But if you do not wish to continue exploring other medications, it might be the only other option that I can suggest.”

“I thought that doctors are against all forms of alternative medicine.” Your eyes narrowed as you pondered over his suggestion. No, it’s not the first time that he’s mentioned it, nor is he the first doctor that has suggested it, but he definitely is the first to tell you that they know the exact person that could solve your problems.

“And we are, in general,” he was quick to point out. “However, if it’s completely natural and doesn’t promise you a cure that won’t arrive, I can’t hold anything against it.”

“If it doesn’t promise me a cure, no matter if it works or not, what even is the point?”

You were tired. Not only sleepy-tired and physically exhausted but also mentally; fully and completely drained. You’d tried all the meds in the book, went to a sleep clinic, changed doctors, did therapy, quit coffee - whatever suggestion you had heard, you’d tried, all following the good ol’ saying of ‘it doesn’t hurt to try’. And it didn’t. You would never dabble with anything remotely painful. But by then, you’d kissed a million frogs and none of them had turned into a damn prince. You were tired! You wanted to sleep, more than an hour without interruption, without needing sedatives that could damn near kill a horse.

“Because it wouldn’t hurt to try,” Dr. Kim sighs, not bothering to hide his frustration with the predicament you both were stuck in: you, desperately trying to resolve your issues and him, frustrated at not being able to help you with it thus far. “The man I am speaking about is someone I have known for many years. We went to university together and he is an educated medical professional. The difference between him and myself is that he has spent years traveling and exploring more alternative, homemade remedies from various corners of the world. If you were to go to him, you wouldn’t be the first patient that I have directed to him and I am positive you would join the list of those he has successfully treated.”

“Could you tell me more about his methods? What exactly does he do that differs so much from your methods?”

“I could try and explain it but in all honesty, I would waste your time since I can’t explain it half as good as he does.” Dr. Kim leaned forward, offering you a kind smile. “I have no doubt in my mind that Dr. Min would explain all the details to you if you were to meet. I’d be happy to call him myself and serve as a link between the two of you. He also doesn’t charge anything for the first consultation whatsoever, so I see this as a ‘nothing-to-lose’ situation, Y/N.”

He had a point; after all this time, there truly wasn’t anything for you to lose. After all, you have tried herbal medication and random suggestions the lovely people of the internet have offered. This wouldn’t be much different than that, except that you would have someone more well-versed in it guiding you.

“Alright, let’s give it a go,” you said with a shrug, agreeing to Dr. Kim’s suggestion with no more reluctance. At that point, you would give and do just about anything to finally be able to sleep with ease.

There was once a time when situations like these ramped up your anxiety levels. Meeting a complete stranger–especially in a very secluded place–medical license or not, the very idea of it would make you shiver, but that had been before you wound up changing so many doctors and therapists over the course of just a few months. At this point, you are borderline desensitized, just wanting to get through it all and see if this one will actually be able to put the money where his mouth is and actually help you.

With your hopes on a low and no anxiety-related hindrance, you walk fast towards the door, ringing the bell without any hesitation. Checking the time, you find that you are five minutes early, which, as you’ve come to learn from all the appointments you’ve had to attend recently, is right on time according to the way doctors look at it.

The door opens fast, almost as if there was someone literally waiting for you on the other side of it. A good first impression, not having to wait for him. Waiting is another thing that you have grown used to but it still irks you to no end. The man on the other side offers a nod of his head and a barely present smile - professional, yet friendly enough to make you feel at ease.

“Ms. Y/N?” he checks and you nod.

“Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Min.” You offer him your hand, which he shakes and lets go of rather quickly. With that cordial smile, he nods and steps to the side, opening the doors of the house to you.

“Please.” He signals your welcome with a wave of his hand and you follow his lead. Watching him close the door behind you before turning to face you again provides you with a chance to observe the man properly.

He is young, around your age, you would guess; he definitely looked like someone who could easily have been Dr. Kim’s classmate. Very stiff in the way he holds himself, his hands behind his back, with his back straight and front pushed out, his presence feeling almost overwhelmingly professional. At least, it would feel that way if it wasn’t for the small, firm smile on his face. His appearance is somewhat cute, you’ll give him that, but you’re more interested in what he can do than in his appearance. After all, if you were chasing a hot doctor, that search would have ended with Dr. Kim.

“How about we go to my office first and discuss your situation first?” Dr. Min suggests and you find yourself nodding, following him up the stairs that lead directly from the hallway to the first floor. If you were to make a guess, you would say that he must live here, too. The house is entirely too big to be his office space unless he has live-in patients staying there with him, and from what you were able to find online, he doesn’t.

Keeping your questions at bay for now and making a mental note to voice them later, you follow him along a hallway. There are two doors on each side and one double door at the very end of it - the room he is walking you towards, you suspect.

And you were right. You pass the two doors and walk directly towards the double doors, pausing so that he can unlock it, neither of you breaking the beginner's silence that has taken over you. The office hidden on the other side of the door is large, arranged in what you would describe an old-fashioned, perhaps even Victorian style, although you could easily be wrong since your only point of reference is antique furniture and a plethora of books gracing the wall shelves. Not to mention that you are not that well versed in interior design.

It’s very well organized, with his desk being spotless and free of rogue papers and reports, in stark contrast to the state of Dr. Kim’s desk when your scheduled appointments occur in the afternoon. The organization makes the office feel almost cold and much like the doctor in front of you, rather stoic and professional, but it doesn’t quite feel unwelcoming, either. It feels like one of those places that are impersonal at first but grow to become comfortable after you’ve spent a substantial amount of time there.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” Dr. Min takes his seat behind the desk and before you can sit in the patient’s designated chair, he’s already opening the drawers and trying to fish something out whilst simultaneously starting the computer located in the very corner of the desk. Its placement sticks out as very thoughtful to you, as many times before you’ve had to crane your neck in an attempt to actually see the doctor you were speaking to. “Now, Namjoon has not given me plenty of details to work with - just a general description of the issues you’ve been facing. So, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to get started with asking you some questions?” He raises his eyebrow at you, giving you a quick look before focusing his attention on the notebook in his hands, having just got it out of the drawer. He flicks through the pages quickly, writing something in the top right corner.

“Of course,” you say as you swallow harshly. The mention of Dr. Kim’s name reminds you of what you’re here to solve and how desperately you want it done with.

“Let’s start with some basics, okay?” he mumbles, underlying something with his pen in quick movements. “Can you please tell me your full name and date of birth?”

You give him the details quickly, not batting an eye as you recite it. The stuff he asks would normally come up in a natural conversation with a therapist, but you liked the straightforward nature of this. It makes you feel as if you’re not paying for your time to be wasted, even though for this session, you’re not paying him at all.

“How long have you been in your current place of work?” he asks as he scribbles away, making you wonder if to him, writing by hand is actually faster than on a computer. It’s an unusual choice, especially seeing as his computer is literally right in front of him, but to each their own, you suppose.

“I have been working for the same company for three years, and I was promoted to my current position a little more than a year ago,” you answer.

“And your irregular sleeping patterns, did they occur after the promotion?”

“No,” you immediately reply, having already gotten used to this question. “The first time it began was before the promotion but after I started working there.”

“Do you feel as if your job is a source of stress for you?”

“Isn’t every job like that?” You laugh awkwardly, feeling a little dejected when he doesn’t join in on the laughter, simply choosing to continue scribbling in his notebook. It’s almost like a wake-up call to you; now is not the time to be witty. “I wouldn’t say that it’s a walk in the park in terms of stress levels but I also don’t find it too overwhelming.”

“I understand,” he nods, his pen never stopping its movements on the paper. “However, it is very possible that you are experiencing certain frustrations and abnormal stress levels without actually being aware of it. People who tend to bottle up their emotions, especially negative ones, often do not realize that they are on the verge of their breaking point until it is too late,” he explains. A degree is not really necessary to reach that kind of conclusion, in your opinion, but you say nothing. There is bound to be a point in all of these questions, even if you do not see it right now. “How about your social life? Family life, in particular?”

“We get along well,” you say as you nod absentmindedly, knowing that your family is right there in the happy middle, right where you want it to be: not abnormally close and forcefully stuck together but also not distant and cold. “I talk to my parents often, visit them whenever I can. Get along very well with my brother, too.”

“Friends? Co-workers?” Dr. Min prompts.

“Nothing worth mentioning,” you say with another shrug. “My circle of friends has been strong for several years now. As for co-workers, I wouldn’t consider them friends but we are cordial and can work well and cooperate together if needed.”

“Would you say that you can separate your business life from your personal life?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you confirm immediately, eyes narrowing down at the way he moves his hand along the paper. It makes you wonder what he is even writing, seeing as you didn’t really say that much. He has very nice hands, you notice. Long and thin fingers, gentle with how they grip the pen and elegant in the way they write. Staring at his hand makes you forget that you should be talking. Luckily, you remember it just in time. “I don’t have a particular desire to bond with anyone I work with if I’m being honest. I think that it blurs the line between professional and personal a bit too much. I mean, we’re bound to end up talking about work at one point or another and I really don’t want to do that on my time off.”

“Very healthy,” Dr. Min agrees as he nods absentmindedly. “Most people I know struggle with that, myself included. By that, I mean thinking about work in the hours when you really shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, it’s not like I have a button to press and shut my brain off, but I try to focus on other stuff.” In all honesty, you are proud of your ability to do that - it took effort and experience, but you’ve reached the point where you have it under control.

“What about your love life?” Dr. Min prods, continuing his questioning.

“Um, I’m single. Have been for a while.”

“Are you sexually active?”

“Not at the present, no.” You bite your lip, not enjoying this part of the questioning. They all ask these questions in order to understand your daily and bedtime habits, and unfortunately, sex falls into that basket quite a bit. “In all honesty, I have not been sexually active for a while, not since my sleeping problems have worsened,” you add.

“And do you masturbate?” Dr. Min looks up at you, for the first time since the questioning started. Taken aback, both by the question and by him making direct eye contact, you find yourself fumbling in the search of appropriate words.

“Um–how is that…. Is that relevant?” you manage to stutter out, feeling the skin of your face burning up. In your eyes, sex is not taboo, nor will it ever be, but if you are caught off guard like you are now, your confidence is nonexistent.

“It’s actually incredibly relevant.” He puts down his pen and notebook, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk. His fingers distract you once again, watching the way he links them together, resting his chin on them casually. “Studies have shown that orgasms are linked with reducing stress levels through endorphin release and as we know, reduced stress levels lead to a better quality of sleep. In layman’s terms, orgasms make you happy.”

“Layman’s terms indeed.” An awkward chuckle escapes you. You take a moment to compose yourself before continuing. “Is this the thing where back in the old days, doctors treated emotional women with orgasms? Is masturbation a part of that?”

Dr. Min laughs, the first minor crack in his so far stoic professionalism. “Yes and no. There is a reason female hysteria is no longer a recognized illness. We could expand on this topic since it’s fairly interesting, but the main gist of it is that it’s… not an illness. Also, back in the day, masturbation was very much taboo, so it was never encouraged. Sexual relations with marital partners, however, were. But we’re losing track of our conversation. Completely separate from this, orgasms are connected to the release of various hormones, including, but not limited to, endorphins and oxytocin. And on occasion, orgasms and the refractory period that follows them, do tend to make people sleep better.”

“Huh. You learn something new every day,” you say with another casual shrug. “And to answer your question, I do, on occasion, masturbate. I wouldn’t say I do it often, though.”

“Interesting.” He looks away from you to continue scribbling in his notebook. “Perhaps you should consider changing that habit, but all in good time. For now, please tell me about your eating habits: how often you eat, the quality of the food you eat, any allergies?”

The change of topic leaves you momentarily dizzy but you manage to gather your bearings before he notices - or at least you hope so. Back to the flat recitation of the answers you have given a plethora of times, you clue him into your dietary habits.

He questions you about anything and everything, both information you consider relevant and something you would never imagine as even remotely important. For example, how many pillows you sleep on and to describe the firmness of your mattress. It made you feel guilty, as if having a soft mattress and two giant pillows (one for hugging) was something bad, perhaps even the cause of your sleeping problems. However, Dr. Min kept firing out questions one after the other, not giving you much time to dwell on the quality of answers.

��Alright then.” Dr. Min slowly finishes writing and closes the notebook, resting his hands on the desk between you and offering you a small smile. “Based on everything that you’ve told me thus far, there are certain areas in which we could try implementing a change in the hopes of getting different results. To begin with, I don’t think you should completely stop drinking coffee,” he says, giving you a pointed look.

“Oh-” you utter, too confused to say anything of substance. His suggestion goes against pretty much everything plenty others have been telling you to do. Or, well, not to do.

“There are ways in which your caffeine intake can be kept under control without having you go cold turkey.” Dr. Min frowns as he speaks, making you wonder if this is him giving you advice or going on a tangent. “Coffee is a habit and humans are creatures of habit. Habit gives people comfort, a feeling of staying in the safe zone. So my advice to you would be to drop the decaf and ignore it completely, and limit your regular coffee to the mornings only - do not drink coffee past noon. Does that sound doable to you?”

“Absolutely!” You find yourself beaming, joyous at the prospect of finally being able to enjoy coffee again, if only in limited quantities.

“That’s settled then,” he confirms with a nod. “Now, onto the next. I hope you will consider my earlier suggestion and decide to spend some time… taking care of yourself, shall we say?”

“Ah yes, the infamous orgasm therapy.”

He laughs. “Very well, if you want to call it that. Trying to take yourself to those levels of pleasure is something that to most is easy, and truly ends up doing wonders. I know there can exist a mental block and I understand it is not something done on command, but if you can take yourself past that threshold, it might end up doing wonders to you.”

“So basically, you want me to masturbate?” you ask.

“No, I want you to orgasm. How you get there is none of my business,” he deadpans and for a moment, your brain freezes. The emotionless way in which he uttered those words, the strictness that wasn’t present before - it makes the hair on the back of your neck stick up and your body shiver in a way that you can only hope he didn’t notice. “Whether you will have relations with someone or do it yourself, it really makes no difference. Orgasms make you happy, not people or your hand.”

If someone were to ask you, you’d shake your head and deny it. But you yourself know it. The way these words left his lips, the tone of his voice, the implication that hid behind his suggestion - it did make something stir in your stomach. It happened for only but a second, easily ignorable and even more forgettable, but it happened and you are the only witness. So you do that. You ignore it, pretend to forget it, and act as if it had never happened. With you being the only one to tell the tale, it’ll follow you to the grave. Or somewhere less dramatic, because it truly shouldn’t be that deep.

“Alright then,” you agree, hoping that the pause you had to take didn’t last too long. “I will… explore that territory. After all, it doesn’t hurt to try. Not if I do it well, that is.”

You and your mouth. Yes, you absolutely did just say that to your possible new therapist slash guru slash whatever the hell he is and is trying to do. Ill-timed jokes are your specialty but you were hoping that the years have brought enough self-control for you to know when to keep your trap shut. Apparently, you are wrong.

Mercifully, Dr. Min laughs at your pathetic joke. “To each their own.” He lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Other than that, it would be ideal if you could avoid screens before you settle in for the night. No social media, no phones, no laptops, no TV.”

That is one of the first things that you’ve tried when your sleep issues have begun, so you know that it likely won’t do the trick, but nevertheless, you nod your head. “Anything else?”

“If you’re up for it, it would be good for me to have a diary of sorts. What time you woke up, how would you rate your sleep from 1 to 10, 1 being the lowest possible score, at what time did you have your meals and what you ate, as well as…”

You listen to him list off all the things you need to keep track of and you nod along, already paying attention to most of the details he is pointing out. It wouldn’t change your daily routine much, you would just have to pay more attention to certain things and remember to write them down accordingly, for him to have the most accurate insight possible.

“And in a few days’ time–let’s say Thursday–I would like you to come back here with your notes and we can discuss our plan of action further. In the meantime, I will be working on a herbal blend that you could use, now that I am familiar with both your allergies and preferences,” he explains.

“Thursday works for me,” you agree immediately. “How about the pricing? How much are you charging for your services?” you ask, well aware that Dr. Kim did not once mention how much Dr. Min tends to charge, and if there even exists a strict pricing sheet.

“Ah, don’t worry about that,” he chuckles, waving you off in one move of his hand. “I have spoken to Namjoon and he has explained your situation in detail once you agreed to give my methods a try. I operate mostly by word of mouth so everything we do now, it’s on the house. You recommending me to someone else would mean more than a cash deposit.”

“You’re going to treat me for free?”

All sorts of red flags spark up at his refusal to charge you. Alright, it’s common courtesy to not charge for the initial consultation but for further treatment? He’d be insane to not charge you and him suggesting it definitely makes you wonder if you should have second-guessed Dr. Kim’s idea to come here a little bit longer.

“Miss Y/N, so far, I have only asked you questions and asked you to keep a daily habit diary.” His expression softens but it doesn’t really ease you up. The way he speaks to you now reminds you of the way an adult would talk to a child. Obviously, he is the expert here and you are not, but there shouldn’t be room for condescension, no matter how well he thinks it is masked. “No, I’m not going to charge you for a chat and mixing a bunch of herbs for your tea. Not to mention that I owe Namjoon a favor and he called it in for you. If we need to work more or expand the treatment areas, we will discuss the pricing. But for now, you owe me nothing except to show up here on Thursday with your diary and try to follow the advice I’ve given you.”

Huh. Well, at least it’s less fishy now than it was moments ago. With a nod, you lean across the desk between you and offer him a hand to shake. “I’ll see you on Thursday, then.”

“Looking forward to it, Miss Y/N.”

Day 0 (or 1? Let’s go with 0!)

Time of waking up: 5:30 AM Hours of sleep: 3hr 45min

Quality of sleep: 3

Breakfast: 1 cup of coffee

Lunch: Caesars salad and falafel

Dinner: Cheese crackers Time of going to bed: Hopefully around 11 PM, to be updated

You click your pen on/off, staring at the piece of paper in front of you. It was easy to do everything that he had asked of you so far by keeping track of your routine for the day, but seeing it all written down, listed one after the other, makes you wonder which exact point is the one that turns into a mistake. He did say you shouldn’t completely quit coffee, so it can’t be that. You didn’t have it in the afternoon either, so the caffeine should have worn off by now, surely.

You did everything by the book, per his advice, and now you are chilling on your bed, the lights dimmed, staring at the notebook full of possible mistakes. Normally at this time you would take the little time you have to indulge in some crappy holiday movie you’ve already seen a handful of times before but he suggested avoiding TV, so nope, not happening.

With a sigh, you throw the notebook onto your nightstand and glue your eyes to your phone. It was calling for you, asking for you to pick it up and just… do something. For a woman who prides herself on being persistent and successful in ignoring temptation, it really should have taken more time before you broke down and grabbed the damn thing. It didn’t. It only took a few seconds before your fingers were sliding across the screen and you ended up doing the one thing you wanted to do all day, but didn’t have a chance before now: Google him. His last name and title, the addition of a city to be more specific, and right there below the ads was his website.

Yoongi. Now you can finally add the first name to the Dr. Min title. Dr. Min Yoongi, who has a very nice website for his practice. As you scroll down the page, you laugh at yourself for not doing this the moment Dr. Kim suggested his colleague as a solution to your problems. Although so far, it doesn’t seem that he was wrong. Based on the reviews on the website, he is a miracle worker. Men and women of all ages, ranging from children all the way to elders, sung his praises. The worst review he got was 4 out of 5 stars, and that is, according to the reviewer, because of the pricing. They all swear up and down how their lives have turned around since the day they walked into his office.

One review, in particular, caught your attention. It’sa generic one, describing him as a capable doctor and kind man, how it took them a bit of time to get the hang of it but after a few weeks of visits, everything was smooth sailing and the reviewer never struggled with the quality of their sleep since. However, the part that really grabbed your attention was the very last line of the review.

As long as you follow his advice, you’ll be good in no time.

Nothing strange about that statement - nothing whatsoever. Except for the orgasm therapy that’s been looming over your head ever since you changed into your PJs and settled for the night. You had ignored the thought of it, pretended like he never said a word about it, and wrote in your brand new diary. But now, the pink elephant is bigger than the room itself and you need to face it. He said it himself: orgasms make people happy.

Sighing, you exit the browser and lock your phone, repeating the internal mantra of ‘no screens before bed’ as you set the phone on your nightstand. Now all that is left for you is to try and come to terms with having nothing but your fingers and imagination to get the ball rolling.

It’s not like you would find particular inspiration in porn if you’re being completely honest with yourself. You are too damn picky. if you start browsing a website, even the inkling of horniness that you had when you start searching ends up evaporating before you find a video that is certified quality fap material. And while your trusty little vibrator can do wonders with proper guidance, you can’t be arsed to get up and rummage through your drawers to find it.

The truth is that you are desert dry–drier than the Sahara, even–medically, impossibly dry. At this point, you can’t even remember when was the last time you’ve felt properly horny, or when you wanted to either chase your own pleasure or have someone give it to you on a silver platter. Sex and masturbation are no longer a part of your routine and it shows.

Still, remembering Dr. Min’s words and that one eye-catching review, you slide your right hand past your underwear and folds and start imitating the movements that you once enjoyed, silently thanking the bottle of lube that was the only thing that gave this endeavour a chance of being enjoyable. Eyes closed and teeth sunk into your bottom lip, you try to read your body again. Slow, gentle and slow, then a bit faster, moving from your clit down to the opening and up again, paying attention to every point that used to be ‘X marks the spot’.

And nothing.

Yeah, you aren’t the Sahara desert anymore but it’s evidently not working and the realization only makes the frustration in you grow. You can’t make yourself cum. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

“Maybe tomorrow, Dr. Min,” you mumble to yourself dejectedly, rolling towards the other side of the bed to turn off the lights completely. He’d suggested that you shouldn’t even keep them dimmed. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Day 1

Time of waking up: 5:15 AM

Hours of sleep: 3 hours and 15 minutes Quality of sleep: 4 Breakfast: Cup of coffee and toast Lunch: Pasta carbonara and a salad

Dinner: 2 brownies

Estimated bedtime: midnight(ish). I mean, I’ll try. Can’t make any promises. Insert sad smiley.

Setting the notebook aside, you reach for your laptop, the website open and ready. Muted, of course. Not only do you not want to alert the neighbors, but you’re also not too keen on the exaggerated moans porn carries with them. That’s what’s always bugged you about porn if you’re being honest. You always overthink it, roll your eyes at the exaggeration, at the very idea that a woman can come so easily with penetration only–multiple times in a row at that–squirting her way to hell and back. It’s not realistic and it kicks you out of the mood. God, you’re so lame, you even overthink porn!

This is why you are doing it differently tonight. A while ago, in the middle of eating brownies, you were scrolling around, looking for a video that seems decent enough to help you out; nothing more than inspiration, really. Now, comfortable in your bed, with new batteries in the vibrator, lube on the bedside table in case you need it (and you likely will) - everything is ready and the only thing you need to do is treat yourself right. That’s it, that’s all there is to it.

Slowly but surely, you feel yourself growing more turned on as you watch the two actors making out on the screen. Foreplay, plenty of it, something that does a lot more wonders to you than senseless banging. Before you know it, the vibrator is buzzing in your hand and you slowly place it between your folds, on the lowest speed setting, moving it gently. It is going the way it should. You can feel yourself getting wetter, your breath becoming haggard, your eyes closing and tuning out the video that is still playing. You let your imagination run wild, making the video nothing more than a kickstarter.

The man caressing you is faceless. It could be anyone, from your ex to the guy from your literature class you’ve had a crush on, or even the coffee shop waiter that often offers a flirty wink when you get your americano. It can be anyone at all, but he’s yours. He’s yours, you’re his, and he's touching you, kissing and caressing you in all the right ways. He’s well versed in the instruction manual that is your pleasure and you are living–

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

You throw the vibrator and flinch when it hits the wooden floor, smacking your laptop shut with the other hand. The frustration that is growing in you is definitely not the relaxation method Dr. Min had pointed you to. You can’t even do something as basic as this and the worst part is, you didn’t even realize it until yesterday! You were so consumed with your sleep struggles, your workload, and the part where you wonder if you took the wrong turn every time life had offered you a choice. Drowning in it all, you forgot that once upon a time you used to have fun. Once, you used to chase your own pleasure, whether in masturbation, sleeping in, or any form of indulgence. Now? You’re a shell. And facing it, knowing it, admitting it to yourself, makes it all the more real. And shitty.

Referring to yourself as persistent is a lie you tell yourself over and over again, to the point of actually believing it. It took you two nights of trying and you’re too tired to try again. It’s just not happening and both you and Dr. Min are going to have to deal with it.

Day 2

Time of waking up: 5 AM Hours of sleep: 2hr 30 minutes

Quality of sleep: -10

Breakfast: Two cups of coffee

Lunch: Pizza Dinner: Steak and two glasses of wine. Or three. Maybe four. Estimated bedtime: midnight?

Masturbation attempts: epic fucking fail

Day 3

Time of waking up: 5:30 AM Hours of sleep: 4hr 45min (the wine knocked me out, I guess) Quality of sleep: 5 (thank you, bottle!) Breakfast: cereal, cup of coffee Lunch: Salmon, salad, fruit Dinner: Salad Estimated bedtime: 10 PM. I’m dead tired. Masturbation attempts: I don’t want to talk about it

Today is a different day. Tonight, you are actually legitimately tired and as you change into your PJs, you are absolutely positive that you will be able to sleep like a baby. There’s no way, especially after the day you’ve had at work, that your mind and body will be able to withstand the comfort of freshly changed, warm sheets.

And yet again, you are proven correct. In just a matter of minutes, you doze off, completely relaxed and ready for rest. Your brain, however, had different plans.

You are so close, so so close, grinding against the palm of your hand as you plunge two fingers inside you, imagining that they were thicker and longer; that they were something else. Moaning out in ragged breaths, you keep the fingers moving, pressing your palm against your clit for more pleasure. You need more. Fingers are never enough, not for you at least.

As fast as it came, it went away. Like a switch flipped and it all just stopped. Your hand slipped away, sticky with your arousal, as if you had no control over your arm whatsoever. And you don’t. Looking around frantically, you try to understand why you stopped when you didn’t want to stop, why weren’t you able to finally experience that blissful, earth-shattering orgasm you were chasing for days now.

That’s when you realized it. You’re dreaming. Possibly even lucid dreaming, too. Maybe? You’re not sure, you haven’t had one before but then again, would you even recognize one? All you know is that you’re aware that you’re dreaming but do not have full control over your body because you definitely don’t want your hand away from your aching core.

“Now that isn’t really working out for you, is it?”

You feel like jumping out of your own skin as you hear the soft voice, turning to face its owner. Lying right next to you, with not that much space between you, is no one other than Dr. Min. Startled, you reach for the covers, making sure that he can’t see anything that is occurring below them, though it’s probably already too late for that.

“Why the fuck am I dreaming about you?” You curse at yourself, at your imagination - is this really the level of low that you’ve subconsciously decided to reach tonight? You despise it, knowing that you have no power over this. The question you ask is empty, directed to no one, completely rhetorical and unanswerable.

“It is quite a peculiar situation, isn’t it?” he laughs, turning on his side to face you. Seeing him like this is so different from what you saw the other day. He is dressed the same and he looks the same, but he’s so much more casual and relaxed - just the way your subconsciousness wanted him to be, apparently. “There are heaps of men you consider attractive that you have imagined in my stead but, here I am,” he says as he theatrically spreads his arms. “You could have gone for… Billy from Scream? Mithra Jin from Epik-”

“Stop!” you snap at this version of him. “You don’t need to list everyone I consider hot, thank you very much.”

“Does Dr. Min fall into that category, too?” He raises his eyebrows, making you scoff immediately.

“No,” you laugh it off without much effort. “There is a difference between considering someone objectively attractive and actually being attracted to them. Like… I don’t know, Maluma? The guy is hotter than actual hell but he’s not my type.”

“But Dr. Min is, isn’t he?” he teases you. “You always did like them mysterious, quiet, broody, and proper.”

“Add to that highly dysfunctional and emotionally constipated, too.” You roll your eyes at him. “By your logic, I should welcome someone like Joe from ‘You’ with wide-open arms. Besides, it doesn’t work that way. I’m older. I’d like to think wiser, too. And Dr. Min is my doctor.”

“And yet you chose to fantasize about him.” He looks very pleased with himself. You, for one, are not surprised; your subconsciousness always was a pesky little bitch. “What’s it going to be, Y/N? Are you going to let yourself come while imagining all the dirty, dirty things you want your doctor to do to you?”

You’d lie if you said that the thought wasn’t mildly intriguing. After all, whether you like to admit it or not, he is here for a reason. But at the core of it, even if a part of you wants to give in, completely surrender to pleasure and keep it all safe in the confinement of your own imagination, you’re not going to. It’s just wrong, absolutely wrong. And completely unsolicited. You’d rather imagine a faceless, nameless man who knows how to do it right and fail at the attempts to reach satisfaction than to go down this road.

“Nope.” You shake your head adamantly. “It’s my dream and I decide where it goes. And it’s NOT going there. So you can just… poof away and leave me be.”

“Fine,” he says as he sassily rolls his eyes, scoffing at you. “If you change your mind, I’m just one dream away.”

“Oh, fuck off!”

You sit up suddenly, startled, looking around yourself frantically just to make sure that he is not actually here. And of course, he isn’t. At least in reality you are saner than in the depths of your imagination. The dream was definitely a lucid one, with your anger being enough to snap you out of it once you’ve reached your boiling point.

Sighing, you slowly make your way out of the bed and towards the bathroom. The clock on your bedside table tells you that it’s almost 2 AM and you curse under your breath. Not the best time to have a shower that will undoubtedly hinder your efforts to make yourself sleepy. You have no choice, considering how drenched you are, with your favorite shirt sticking to your skin. It was only a dream but it sure did leave the side-effects of a nightmare.

You begrudgingly walk through the motions, getting the water warmed up enough to not feel the effect of being wide awake. It’s only as you get completely undressed do you realize that you might actually be in trouble. Sahara you were, but not anymore. The underwear you take off is wet with your arousal and now that you know it’s there, you can feel it, too. Whether it was your dream alone or the attempts of masturbation that you had in it, something had aroused you. Something aroused you more than anything has in a very long time. Leave it to you to only get horny in your dream. You truly are a walking, talking disaster.

“You are one fucked up individual, Y/N,” you tiredly tell yourself as you step into the shower, hoping to wash your thoughts along with the sweat off.

Having a doctor or a therapist often makes you feel as if you’re presenting yourself to be judged, which isn’t something you’re particularly fond of. Your daily habits, your way of living; all of it is presented for Dr. Min to look at and tell you that you’re doing it all wrong, and hearing that really isn’t fun. Nor is it particularly nice. A few months, or even weeks, back, you would have felt uneasy about giving him your habit diary, but now you want him to read it and tell you what it is that you’re doing wrong. Dressed in a gray sweater that looks entirely way too comfy and that you wouldn’t mind stealing, his brows furrowed as he flips through the pages you have filled with your writing, while you stew in your own misery, waiting for his judgment, wondering if it’ll be criticism or compliment.

“Hm,” is the sound that leaves him and you hate that. A ‘hm’ can be so many things. He says nothing else as he turns the pages, giving a second glance to what you wrote down over the past couple of days. “Well… I’m not a dietician nor do I pretend to be one but the first thing that jumps out at me is that you may not be eating enough?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Doubt it.” You shake your head at him. “I have periods where I eat a lot and when I eat very little. I’m not dieting or anything like that; I just eat when I’m hungry. And when I feel stressed, more often than not, hunger is not on my mind. But I do eat enough,” you reassure him.

“You do have a point - it’s not the same every day,” he mumbles as he skims through the pages again. “And at what time do you usually have your last meal of the day?”

“I tend to follow the rule of never eating past 8 PM,” you tell him. “Sometimes the circumstances won’t let me do that but I’d say that six out of seven days, I’m done by eight.”

“Would you feel comfortable with moving that limit an hour earlier? I’m thinking that it would be good because… let’s put it like this: when people have issues with their health or body, they tend to localize the pain to one area, right? That’s not always the right decision. If your stomach hurts, the pain is localized in the stomach area but your brain is still very much aware of that pain and it takes over your entire body even if you only feel it in one part. Digesting food isn’t painful but it’s a process that takes time and effort and if your body is still doing that by the time you lay down for the night, it can subconsciously be the thing that keeps you awake.”

“That sounds very plausible,” you nod, amazed that you’ve never thought about it. “And yeah, I would definitely feel comfortable finishing eating earlier in the day. Hell, I’d even skip on the snacks,” you joke, ignoring the way you sound awkward to yourself, accepting the relief that washes over you when Dr. Min smiles at the joke.

“And do you drink often? I only have a couple of days’ worth of data to work here with, so I can’t tell if it’s a habit of yours to have a glass or two in the evening.”

“Not that often,” you tell him honestly, trying to put a number to something you have never paid much attention to. “I would say two or three times a month. Sometimes not even that.”

“That’s good,” he nods. “Wine is only good in moderation. And as for the…let’s say… pleasure,” he continues, giving you a pointed look, “judging by your writing, it didn’t go well, did it?”

“No, it did not.” Your head shakes in agreement. “I have a theory that it didn’t work simply because I was trying too hard, you know? Maybe I shouldn’t make it a mission because the pressure makes me fail. Does that make sense?”

“It makes perfect sense.” He nods, a comforting smile forming on his face. “Y/N, you need to follow your body, what it is telling you, what it wants and what it needs. If it’s not letting you do something, then you can’t force it. In theory, you can, but in practice, you shouldn’t,” he tells you. Your takeaway from it is that you’re just not going to come anytime soon by the way things are looking. Unless it’s in a dream, and seeing as your dream featured no one else than the man of the hour himself, you don’t tell him a single word about it. You’d rather drop dead this very second than admit that you dreamt of him.

“I’ll do that,” you reassure him. “Follow my body and… all that.”

“Alright then.” He closes your diary and sets it on the desk. “I’d like for you to continue writing your habit diary, just to follow the direction in which you’re going. But before we continue with other methods, I’d like to discuss something with you. It’s something that I ask all of my patients to do, both for my safety and theirs. Whenever I officially begin treating someone, which we haven’t started here yet, my patients and I sign an NDA.”

“An NDA?” Your eyebrows raise. This is something that you have never heard from any doctor before, and you’ve seen plenty.

“Yes, an NDA - or, to be more detailed, a non-disclosure agreement.”

“I’m very familiar with what an NDA is; I’m a paralegal,” you inform him, flatly. You do not miss the way his eyes widen once he hears the new information. You, on the other hand, are on full alert. “Would you mind explaining why on earth an NDA is necessary? I’m willing to listen but it sounds a bit too extreme, right off the bat.”

“It’s more for the favor of the patient than myself” Dr. Min lets out a tired sigh, leaning back in his chair. It’s the first time for you to see his professionalism crack. He seems tired and far more casual than he ever was before, looking at you through lidded eyes as he continues.. “One part of our process would include you recording your sleep - audio or video, it’s up to you but a video is of more worth. The way it’s done is that you pick the system, set the camera or recorder, and have full control of the content. The only time I ever see it is directly in front of you, on a device of your choosing that you own. That content never leaves your hands,” he explains.

“Alright, I understand that.” You nod, realizing that although it’s weird, it really sounds as if you are the one that is in total control of that material. “I still don’t understand why an NDA is necessary in this case, though.”

“Because people talk in their sleep. It’s actually a lot more common than one might think,” he begins, “and most times, it’s incoherent babbling, words that not even they can connect–much less me–but other times, they end up saying things that they… would rather not share in public. I’ve had the unfortunate experience of learning about love affairs, money laundering, and other admissions that they would never say out loud, much less to a complete stranger. It ends up being extremely uncomfortable for the patient and not everyone is willing to trust my word on being silent. That’s why I started implementing NDAs, and so far, I found them to work perfectly in placating my clients' worries. The trust between the doctor and patient remains.”

“That is… very interesting,” you admit, allowing your mind to go 100mph. “But, as far as I’m aware, I don’t talk in my sleep. And even if I did, I don’t have deep, dark secrets that would be harmful to me. I’m as boring as they get, doctor. I’d probably talk about ramen.”

He laughs at that. “I believe you, but I’m afraid I have to insist on it. It’s a very simple NDA; the only important point of it is that anything said and heard in this room will not leave this room. Luckily for me, you’re a professional - you can look it over yourself and decide if it is something you wish to sign,” he tells you as he reaches for a stack of papers placed on the edge of his desk. He offers you one and, intrigued, you take it without a second thought.

You do not skim read. If there is one thing you’ve learned in life, and in business, it is that you need to read everything, no matter the font size. You take the time to read every line and find that his explanation was accurate. It in fact is a very simple NDA. No gimmicks, no catches, just a simple ‘we don’t talk about it’. Whatever is said by either party stays within the office. There were also methods listed, like etheric oil massages, herbal tea, observation of a patient's sleeping habits - everything that he had already mentioned at one point or another, everything that you were aware of. It also explained, in written form, how he would never be in possession of the recordings and how he will only ever watch them while you are present, on a device of your choosing.

“I have a question about this,” you say as you look up at him. “There are… sleeping clinics. Where people stay for a night or maybe more and where a doctor can observe everything they plan on observing with the footage they take. Isn’t it easier to do it like that?”

“Perhaps it might be, but as you’ve probably noticed by now, I work in the comfort of my own home,” he points out. “It wouldn’t sound too professional to have a patient sleep in the guest bedroom. Both for moral and security reasons. Think about it, would you want to sleep in a stranger’s house, where it’s his job to watch you sleep?”

“You’re not a stranger though - you’re my doctor,” you point out.

“Not until you sign that NDA, I’m not,” he jokes. “I understand your point of view and I agree. I’m not a random guy that will watch you sleep; I’m a professional. But I do not have a proper setup here. Besides, people feel a lot more at ease in the comfort of their own home, and patients being in their comfort zone tends to make sleep easier.”

Everything he is saying makes sense, which is exactly why you reach for the pencil holder on his desk, not wasting any time in scribbling your signature in its designated place. You notice his eyes widen as you move quickly, surprise written all over his face.

“Did you want more time with the document?” he asks sheepishly. “Usually, patients want to study it for a while longer to make sure of what they’re signing.”

You laugh, pointing at yourself with both your thumbs. “Paralegal, remember? Besides, if I end up wanting to sue you, I know a guy who knows a guy,” you joke.

“I will take that warning seriously,” he says with a laugh. “Alright, so we’ve already covered the first point: continue journaling and whenever we meet, please bring the notebook with you.” You nod your head obediently. “Now, I think we can start with a simple, relaxation massage. The one I do is focused on the neck and head, however, if you’d like to explore more, I can wholeheartedly recommend Dr. Jeon-”

“Oh, Jeon Jungkook?” you ask in surprise. Dr. Min nods, mildly surprised as well. “Yes, Dr. Kim had already sent me to him. Hands of magic, in all honesty, but it didn’t help me much with my sleep,” you finish with a shrug. It definitely felt nice to lose some tension from your shoulders and back but it definitely didn’t lull you into a peaceful slumber.

“I do use a different oil mixture,” he remarks as he stands up and you watch him walk to the other side of the office, towards one of the many tall bookshelves. It’s the bottom cabinet that he opens and as he walks back towards you, you notice a bunch of little tubes lined up neatly in a metal holder, all colored different shades of pale yellow. “The base of what I use is valerian oil but we need to test it first, to make sure that you are not allergic. Please turn your hand, palm up. I’ll put a drop or two on the inside of your wrist. And beware: to some the smell is rather pungent,” he warns you. Following his instructions, you watch as he drips two tiny drops of the oil on your skin. He gently holds your wrist and circles his thumb against your skin to spread the oil.

“How long does it take for the reaction to show?” you ask, your curiosity getting the best of you.

“Not that long. If there is no redness in the next minute or two, we can easily proceed.” He smiles at you and it’s only then that you notice that he is still holding onto your wrist, although he is no longer massaging your skin. “Now, what I would suggest next is lavender. Lavender oil has a calming effect, that and chamomile, but its smell is strong and not comfortable to many. We can always go for coconut if you hate the other options but I’m afraid it doesn’t have nearly enough benefits as the lavender does.”

Was that meant to be a joke? You’re not sure. Honestly, you’re not sure of anything other than how much more difficult it is to have a genuine conversation with him when he is this close to you, touching you, at that. Realizing that his thumb can likely feel your pulse, you do your darn best to slow down the rapid beating of your heart, without much success.

“I’m–,” you stutter, shaking your head at your own lack of tact. “I’m fine with lavender.”

He says nothing, simply turns around to grab another vial and he does the exact same thing with your other wrist: holds it, drips two droplets of oil, and massages it into your skin with his thumb. It is impossible to look away from the sight of his hands and the way they move so gently. He has beautiful fingers, decorated with two silver rings - neither of which are a wedding ring, you notice. You’ve heard about people having a thing for hands, your good friend being one of them, but you’ve never really understood it. Not now, not until that ended up being the only thing you could focus on, the only part of him that you could openly stare at.

Crap. He’s hot. Of course, he was attractive the last time as well, but you weren’t affected by it and now, you are. It’s… all kinds of wrong. Every possible kind of wrong, actually. The kind of wrong that makes you wonder if you really are that dumb. Remembering your dream from the night before in great detail, it’s easy to determine that yes, you really are.

“Alright.” His voice is a wake-up call, something that forces you to look away from his hands as they let go of yours. “No allergic reactions - we’re good to go. Now, do you prefer to stay in that chair or to move to the lounge chair?”

“I’m okay with staying here,” you answer without giving it a second thought. You do not want to get more comfortable, not now, not in this situation.

“Alright then,” he says as he smiles at you. “Please move your hair to the side so that I can have access to your neck and I’ll let you know when I’m going to change position. For the sake of your relaxation, it would be best if we don’t talk unless it’s necessary. Do you feel comfortable with that?”

“Sounds good,” you agree with a nod of your head and move your hair away from your neck to the best of your ability. You’re glad for the distraction because you don’t have to focus on him walking behind you. And even though you were expecting it, you still react to his touch. His hands are warm and soft, but that doesn’t stop you from jumping in your seat.

“Easy,” he soothes, “Close your eyes and relax. Try not to think.”

Easy for him to say! He’s not the one that is being touched by a hot person. You take a deep breath, remind yourself about why you’re really here, and just like that, you allow your mind to shut it all off; him, the thoughts swarming in your head, everything.

It’s dark. Your eyes are closed and your mind is empty. No deadlines, no documentation, no stressing about the stress that makes you unable to sleep. There is nothing - nothing but the feeling of his warm hands as they gently massage your neck. Time doesn’t exist. Five seconds could have passed or five hours. You can’t tell because to you, it doesn’t exist. It’s a completely different feeling from the ones you’ve felt before. Never did a simple massage make you feel so… relaxed.

Almost as if you are about to fall asleep.

“I’m going to touch your face now,” he warns you in a raspy voice, not wanting to startle you. Dumbly, you nod, not really having the strength to answer him verbally. The nod is all he needs and gently, he places his hands on the sides of your face, his fingers slowly moving against your temples.

You can smell it now, too, much more clearly. The lavender overpowers the valerian, making it incredibly easy to imagine yourself in a field of Provence, watching the sun go down as the grass you’re laying in swallows you, gently tickling your skin. You never want to leave.

You could stay like this for hours, and you would if he’d be willing to let you. You’d stay here forever and ever, simply because you cannot recall the last time you have felt this… calm.

“Y/N?” You can’t tell if his voice is actually a whisper or if your mind is playing tricks on you. “Are you doing okay?” he asks again, and this time, you are sure that his voice is a little bit louder. He was definitely getting back to the normal sound of his voice as he brings you back to reality.

“Mhm,” you nod, slowly opening your eyes. The light blinds you and it takes you a moment to realize that there are no lights, just regular daylight, which makes you feel as if you are waking up after a long night of sleep. “Did I actually fall asleep?” you wonder.

“No.” You can hear him laughing briefly. “Perhaps you dozed off for a moment, but I definitely wouldn’t call it sleep. But it does seem like it was relaxing. Did you enjoy it?” He starts making his way back to the other side of the desk, leaving you feeling dejected. You wanted the massage to last, if only just a bit longer.

“Yes, it really felt good,” you admit, albeit reluctantly, almost sheepishly. What you leave out is that somehow it felt better than when the actual expert and masseuse, Dr. Jeon, had massaged you. This massage has made you feel so good, you find yourself both in need of a decent stretch and a good night sleep.“Do you think it would be helpful if I do that to myself before I go to sleep? I’m not sure if it’s the actual physical pressure or the smell, and I realize it wouldn’t be the same, but it wouldn’t hurt to try?”

“It absolutely wouldn’t hurt to try. I will prepare a vial for you to take home,” he reassures you with a small smile. “That and some herbal tea. I have already mixed up a bunch of herbs, a little bit of everything, really. Most people enjoy the taste but if you find it too bitter, you can always try to add a bit of honey. If it’s still not to your taste then the next time we meet, I will come up with a different combination that might suit you better.”

“That sounds good.” Coffee may be your drink of choice but there’s nothing wrong with a good cup of tea, especially before bed. “Is there anything else that we need to do? The… recordings and stuff?” you ask to remind him of the reason an NDA had to be signed.

“Regarding that, a video would be a better option,” he starts explaining. “Some of your issues might stem from something as simple as the position in which you sleep. Remember: I won’t see anything you don’t want me to see. You control the footage and I only get to see it in your presence. All you need is a camera of your choice and decent storage.”

“I can make it happen,” you reassure him. “So, just to go over everything: don’t eat too late in the evening, have tea before sleep, set up the recording, and then just… go to sleep as per usual? Oh, and use the oil you will give me.”

“The oil is very much optional but it won’t hurt,” he says. “But yes, essentially that is all you need to do. And we should meet again in… let’s say, a week? We can then observe the changes, if there are any, and adapt accordingly?” he suggests.

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“Well, this isn’t awkward at all,” you find yourself muttering under your breath as you wrangle your old smartphone, trying to prop it up against your night cream in the hopes to provide Dr. Min with a good, wide-angle shot. It was a struggle, but you theatrically step away and sigh once the phone is finally stable. “Dr. Min, with all due respect, this’ll be dull as shit.” You laugh at the absurdness of this, waving to the camera, almost as if adding your own cherry on top.

He didn’t ask for much - that is true. So albeit a little bit skeptical, you follow his short list of instructions, making yourself comfortable in the bed, swallowed in your pillows, as you write down the basics of how your day went. Very purposefully, you skip the masturbation section - that will not be happening for as long as there is a camera in your bedroom. Replacing your notebook and pen with the vile of oil he had prepared, you close your eyes and start applying it to your neck, tragically failing to replicate the feeling you felt yesterday with him.

Your hands, simply put, aren’t good enough. It makes you wonder if he has magic in his fingertips if he was able to make you so relaxed and soothed as quickly as he did - or, maybe, it’s just him. You’d be a fool to deny his appeal, especially when the dream you had made it absolutely clear you were not oblivious of him. God, he’d better not show up in your dreams tonight.

It doesn’t take you long to give up on the oil. It doesn’t have the same effect. You decide it is a waste of time and you’ll only ruin your pillow with it. Having followed every little task you were given, you feel comfortable as you dim your light. Your old phone might have a decent camera but it sure as hell doesn’t have night vision. As calm as you could possibly be, given your ongoing battle with what you can only label insomnia, you close your eyes and relax.

No, you don’t relax. You try to relax. And after a few minutes of huffing and puffing and pretending that it worked, you are ready to throw in the towel. A quitter is what you are and you have no shame in admitting it - well, you wouldn’t, if you weren’t painfully aware of the camera that is aimed in your direction. Now, it’s easy to see why he wanted an NDA to separate the space between you. This is definitely not the most comfortable of situations.

Deciding that turning your back to the camera is the best thing you can do at the moment, you follow your gut and do just that. Despite the room not being completely dark like you usually prefer it to be, you very slowly start to feel the tension leave your body. There it is, the tell-tale sign of you being on the brink of complete relaxation. Seconds pass and you find yourself being focused more on the smell of lavender that encompasses you, as well as the warmth of your bed. Before you know it, you succumb to the comfort and forget that you are, in an unusual way, being watched.

Your neck has always been a weak spot and the man above you knows it. Whether it was a lucky guess or you instructing him earlier, you’re not sure; and you don’t care, either. Leaning your neck back, you give him more space to work with, more skin to kiss and nip on as he not so subtly rocks his hips against you in a way that makes you feel his slowly hardening cock directly against your thighs.

The weight of him on top of you feels so right and you don’t hesitate for one second before spreading your legs and allowing him to press himself against your center. You cling to him, arms and legs, letting your hands roam around his clothed back as he continues his merciless attack on your neck, making a clear point of licking and sucking at the area he previously bit on.

It was easy to willingly give up any semblance of sanity, knowing that the moment was better than any rationalization. Not to mention that it’s incredibly hard to think straight when you have a hard dick rocking directly against your clit, pressed so tightly against you, you could even feel it through the layer of clothes between you.

“You feel so good,” the gasp leaves your mouth before you can even try to stop it, your mouth remaining helplessly open in pleasure.

“As do you, baby.”

You recognize that voice instantly, despite never hearing its breathy moans, especially not directly in your ear. It’s too easy to recognize and it makes your blood freeze. It’s Dr. Min.

“No. Wait. Why are you here?” The words leave you in a panic but you don’t push him away from you. No, you easily let him continue his mission, marking your neck as much as the surface allows, despite the growing panic in you.

“I’m here because you want me here,” he casually comments in between kisses as he moves down towards your chest. “You finally decided to give in to your subconsciousness, my dear. I was wondering when it would happen and I must say, you lasted longer than I expected.” His words are gentle in tone but menacing in meaning - he is making it sound like his grand plan finally came to fruition and that scares you.

“It’s wrong,” you find yourself saying, and yet, you still don’t stop him when his hands reach for your breasts, groping them gently as he spreads kisses down your skin and towards them. “It’s intrusive. You… He didn’t ask to be here. I’m not being fair to him, or you, I’m practically taking advantage of your help,” you ramble on yet still, you make no move to stop him in any way, ignoring the way your pulse goes haywire when he puts a hand up your shirt and under your bra, all while still leaving pecks on your skin.

“Baby, it’s a fantasy that you cannot control.” He finally makes eye contact with you and it’s all the worse. It makes this feel real, makes him feel real, as those were the same eyes that were looking at you from across the desk, kind and helpful eyes that cared and wanted to make you feel better. Those same eyes are a menace now, just as the words that leave his mouth are. “Everyone has fantasies and you cannot control who you are attracted to.... Not to mention that if you think he didn’t know you were wet after that massage, you’re very naive.”

Shit. You wonder if your mind is lying to you or if he actually knew it then. Perhaps it was an educated guess, or he could even smell you despite the scented oils. You don’t know and you never will, not unless you ask and you will never do that, no matter how curious.

“What you’re saying doesn’t justify it, it only makes it worse.” Your point gets lost in a moan when he harshly pinches your nipple between his fingers, only to gently rub at it. He’s evil, he’s evil personified, with a power to make your words mean nothing and let desire take over. Your moans aren’t the only sighs of betrayal - as soon as he stopped moving his hips, you found yourself grinding against him, desperately searching for some form of pressure, friction, anything that would help you reach the heights you crave for. He turns you into a shameless and desperate pile of goo and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“Give in, baby,” he purrs at you and once you look at him again, you see a wicked smirk greeting you. “We both know you’re desperate for it. You’re drenched, no matter what you say. You’re rocking desperately against me; you want it even more than you know. And who knows, baby… Maybe he’s thinking of you in the same way, too.”

“Stop saying that!” You are adamant, but you can feel the soul leave your body when his lips close on the already sensitive nipple - even with the cotton between his lips and your skin, you can feel it all too well, and it doesn’t help that he sucks on it, hard. “Fuuuck, you’re evil!”

You can feel his laugh but he doesn’t detach himself from you. He continues sucking at your nipple mercilessly, releasing soft grunts every time you move your hips against him, grinding in complete desperation, no longer caring about what’ll happen. He is right. As much as you want to talk about how wrong this is, you want it. And after all, it’s nothing but a fantasy. A fantasy that is out of your area of control and a product of your vivid imagination paired with his skilled hands that did wonders on your neck. One that made it easy to imagine what they would do in other areas of your body.

“I can feel you’re giving in, baby.” He sounds gleeful, finally leaving your poor nipple alone, but his teasing probably makes you feel even worse. “Good. You look beautiful when you’re this needy… Now, imagine if he was touching himself right now, thinking about you…”

“Don’t say that,” your head shakes but your desperate hips have a different plan. You will come, you can feel it, you can tell. It’ll take nothing but his words and the firmness of his cock as you move your clothed center against it. “He isn’t.”

He laughs, and it sounds nothing but evil. “Why are you saying it with such certainty? Do you think he’s not just a regular man, underneath it all? That he didn’t feel your pulse quicken when he was touching your neck? I could bet that right now, he has his fists around his hard dick, moving it viciously fast as he imagines you under him - the way you are under me.”

“Fuck!” you yell, no longer having a hold of your self-control. “Fuck, I hope he is!”

“You should ask him; I bet he’d like that a lot.”

With that one line, you finally depart from the last remnants of your sanity and the earthly world. That one line, paired with the way you pressed your body against him, has you cursing in broken breaths as you dig your nails into his back. You melt at the words of encouragement he gives you, barely hearing them from the buzzing in your ear. Never in your life did an orgasm hit you this hard - it coursed through your entire body, from the very tips of your fingers all the way to your pulsing center that shamelessly begs for him.

“That’s a good girl,” he laughs, looking down at you with pride. And with the last bits of your energy, you find yourself smiling back.

Waking up feels like a bucket of ice-cold water has been dumped over your head. It’s instant and scary, enveloping you in the most frightening feeling of wondering where the hell you are. It takes you a moment too long to realize that you are in your room, at home, safe and sound. And it takes you one moment more to remember what just occurred in your dream.

With great shame, you don’t have to reach between your legs to confirm what you already know. What you had just now was a proper wet dream, and the orgasm that rocked your world in it somehow carried into reality. You had the strongest orgasm of your life while fantasizing about your doctor and the wetness that has ruined your underwear brings a warmth to your cheeks, which only increases in intensity when you realize that you don’t have a particular desire of changing out of them.

It was so good. Borderline magical, if you’re being honest with yourself. But so, so wrong at the same time. Especially with the images of him that your subconsciousness has planted into your brain. If you were to close your eyes now, you know the only image you could see would be of him, his face scrunched and teeth gripping his bottom lips as he all but violently jerks off, coming all over himself while he moans your name.

As you try to shake away the image from your mind, at least for the time being, you are reminded of the proverbial pink elephant in the room. Looking over to your bedroom cupboard, you see your old phone casually propped, the camera focused on you as you are recovering from a very real orgasm. One that he will now have to see.

taglist: @ lovely-joon @ rosiekooreads @ namkooksthighs @joyfulhopelox @namsope32 @ yoongoboongo0

#yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #thebtswritersclub #bts #bangtanarmynet

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joyfulhopelox · 2 years

Text

Grapes of Wrath | KSJ

Pairing: ghost!Seokjin x reader (supernatural!au, s2l!au)

Genre: romance, smut

Warnings: language, mentions of blood, multiple sex scenes, sensory play (includes wax play), bdsm themes (choking, spanking, rope play, angry sex, biting, orgasm denial, edging), fingering, oral (both), voyeurism, masturbation, dom!Jin, angry Jin

Sin: Wrath

Summary: Blood runs thicker than water, but when the ghost in your newly inherited apartment decides he’s had enough of you and your lineage, you find yourself at his mercy. Seokjin not only haunts your apartment but also your dreams, and you’ve woken up soaking wet in the middle of the night more than once. Despite his wish for revenge, you find yourself not wanting to escape his clutches.

Word count: 15k (I tried I am sorry)

rating : 18+

A/N: This is my sin for the collab hosted by @yutasgalaxy @sugasbabiie and @thebiasrekkers Seven Deadly Sins. Check out the collab and everyone’s amazing work. It’s been a journey, and I am somewhat excited and glad to post this. I worked hard on it after having gone through some not so great times in my personal life. Sadly, this will probably be the last collab for me for a while as I need to get back to my own work. That being said I hope you enjoy this in-jin-ius idea (she hopes) and probably the darkest smut I have ever written. I am so nervous about this honestly. Thank you to my shadow beta as always for reading this and making sure that 3am ramblings sound good. @notyouroppar 💜

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner

Taglist: @bringmetheksj @8sjaf

@diorejeon @valentinesbts

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

Sᴏɴɢ: I sᴇᴇ Rᴇᴅ - Eᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇs ᴀɴ Oᴜᴛʟᴀᴡ | ᴜꜱᴇ ᴍᴇ - ᴍᴀᴋᴋ ᴍɪᴋᴋᴀᴇʟ

His heart is a suspended lute; As soon as you touch it, it resonates. - Edgar Allen Poe, The Fall of House of Usher

=====

Promised to him as his betrothed

The first daughter of a liar

When the pact was made and business was fulfilled

At the liar’s hand he was betrayed

Slayed before the promise could be kept

For generations the liar’s family with his wrath shall be met

Bound to the place until the daughter offers her hand

He will forever haunt the land

For one to be able to leave the other must forfeit.

=====

Diary entry #103

It’s dark in here, so dark. My mind is constantly plagued by numbing blackness. Being here feels like being submerged in tar, I can’t move, I can’t feel anything, I can only think and dream. And what I dream of the most is revenge.

Returning to one’s home after a long day of work should, without a doubt, be a pleasant experience. Nothing compared to the feeling of passing the threshold, warmth radiating from inside the house, enveloping you. Home is the feeling of taking your shoes off after you’ve come back from a long day. Home is the feeling of changing out of your stuffy clothes straight into pyjamas, it’s that first cup of tea you brew for yourself as you sit down – your aching legs thanking you for giving them a moment of respite and you in turn, thanking them for holding the fort for the whole day. Home is a smell, a smell you can’t describe, a smell that is uniquely yours. Home means safety, nestled in between your blankets ready to doze off as you recharge, preparing to tackle another gruesome day.

In your eyes, nothing felt like home if any of these were missing from the criteria. And currently you were not only lacking all of these, but in an awkward position of having to recreate them.

Standing at the threshold of your newly inherited home – the home your late grandmother passed onto you, your eyes took in all the mess that resembled a Picasso painting. Almost everything was still packed in boxes. Whatever wasn’t was strewn around the empty floor, in such a hazardous way you wondered if you even had a floor to begin with.

“Ma��am, we are going to have to make some space for the couch to come in.” One of the men hired to help you move interrupted your lament and you awkwardly nodded at him, shifting from one foot to another. You would have time later to think about the mess your new house was in – if a glass of wine could make its way into your hand whilst that was happening, even better.

“If you could bring it up, I will move some things around.” You said appreciatively. As soon as the door closed after him you moaned in despair. The stacks of boxes would take you forever to move, and you certainly didn’t have any ideas of where to place the couch. You’ve barely had time to explore the place, let alone think about its interior design. If they left it in a place that was not suited for your taste later on it would be up to you and your back to move it around. And you certainly didn’t possess the strength of three grown men.

“It’s ok Y/N, you got this.” The encouragement sounded meek to your own ears, but it did its job. For the next few minutes you occupied yourself with moving boxes out of the way. Your back protested against the constant strain but you couldn’t help and let out a small shout in triumph at the sight of the mahogany floor.

So preoccupied with moving the boxes you didn’t even notice the squeak of the door as it opened fully until a gust of cold air hit your back. Shivering from the iciness of it you turned around ready to ask for some time as you weren’t done yet.

“Have you already ret–“ You stopped, a look of confusion on your face at the sight of the empty corridor. Cautiously you made your way towards it, the fleeting thought of someone playing a prank on you making you feel irked.

“Hello?” Calling out, you reached the doorway. Nothing was amiss except the lack of people or a doorstop that could hold the door open in such a way. Hand cautiously reaching out to touch the darkened wood you checked the hinges, the springs. Knowing they should have closed the door on their own, and not being able to feel the breeze anymore, you sucked in a deep breath and took a step back, your eyes widening. It was impossible for the door to stay like that, what was holding it open?

The thought of something supernatural made you scoff, you weren’t a believer, regardless of your family’s past. Not wanting to believe that anything but a fault in the mechanism could have caused the door to open and stay like that, you stepped out into the corridor.

The feeling of being submerged under water overtook your senses. You couldn’t breathe, speak or hear, everything felt muted. You shivered, the coldness making your nerves on edge. Unable to move, your limbs felt like lead, spots of white dotted your vision and you found it hard to focus on anything but your clenching stomach. You tried to call out, desperate for air, but you realised soon that your throat was constricted; your airway clenched as if someone’s hand was slowly closing over it, squeezing it like a wet rag.

With the familiar feeling of a panic attack making its way up your spine and the splotches of black painting the corner of your vision, you knew you wouldn’t last long. Eyes darting along the corridor searching for something to help, they settled on the far end of the corridor where you spotted the men bringing up your couch. Upon hearing them shout instructions at each other you almost sighed in relief before attempting to call out to them– nothing but a gargle to your ears which didn’t manage to get their attention.

Panicked you willed yourself to move, to try to get at least one foot out of the door, your brain somehow knowing that whatever was immobilising you had a direct link to it. The movers were getting closer and closer to you and you felt your knees shake underneath you. They didn’t seem to notice you as the man facing your way looked at you, you noticed his eyes glazed over, as if…as if he was looking through you.

Desperately your eyes darted back towards the apartment, hoping to find something that could aid you. The sight that greeted you made you pause. The man sitting in the middle of your open lounge, casually leaning against a stack of boxes, his tousled black hair covering his forehead in soft waves, framing his deep onyx eyes. Eyes that were trained on you, a smirk pulling at his plush lips, something dark painted on his soft features. If you would’ve gasped if you could. He looked ethereal, alabaster skin almost glowing in the artificial lights bathing the room, yet his presence exuded darkness and danger. Still smirking at you he pushed himself off of the stack of boxes, eyes locked on yours as he languidly licked his lips.

“It isn’t nice when you’re not able to move is it?” He never opened his mouth, his lips still trained in a mischievous smirk, but somehow you knew that the smooth soft voice belonged to him. Gulping with difficulty you went to open your mouth, forgetting for one second you were restrained. “Nuh uh,” the tut echoing through your head was followed by an airy laugh. It would’ve sounded beautiful if not for the dark tone seeping through it like ink blotting on a piece of paper. “Good try puppet, but you can’t. Not yet. Not until I’m through with you.” His voice promised a dreary ending and your spine stiffened as you shivered.

Taking a few steps towards you, his face dropped into an unemotional mask – long gone was his smirk and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. Smirk gone you could easily drink in his almond eyes, and his smooth skin so white it made it seem like the light was passing straight through it. You felt entranced as you followed every step he took towards you. His movements were smooth and natural yet there seemed to be a trail behind his movements, as if he was too fast for your eyes to catch. It made him seem so fluid that it almost transcended reality. Unknowingly, you let a whimper escape as he got closer and if you’d blinked you would’ve missed the way his face morphed into a snarl.

“You don’t get to play victim here Y/N.” This time his mouth moved with the words making your heart clench at the ominous tone in his voice. “You have sins to pay for.” He was closer - so close that you could see the lashes framing his eyes. You couldn’t move your body so instead you tried to turn your head away. Almost crying in relief when you found that you could, you closed your eyes. forcing the tears that gathered at the corner of your eyes to trail onto your cheeks, your mind pleading for this to end.

“Ah, little Y/N is scared, good. You can pray however much you want. There is no escape.” In hindsight, you should have never turned your face away from him. You’d hoped that if you didn’t see him, he would disappear like a figment of your imagination. When you felt the cold brush of something against your neck you gasped wanting to look back but finding that you were completely trapped. “You’re now in my territory.” The coldness wrapped around your neck. It felt as if you’d put on a choker that was left in the fridge for too long; it clung to your skin, it burnt.

“Good luck.” The tight feeling around your neck felt suffocating and it took you a second to realise that it wasn’t ice, the imprint of it tightening on your skin felt like fingers – he was choking you. Before you could react, the feeling of being trapped underwater and the heaviness in your limbs let up, and your ability to breathe returned. A strong breeze passed through you, almost knocking you over. At the same time the lights down the corridor fizzed and flickered. The unexpected sound of them exploding made you jump, the loud crash causing your knees to buckle, and you lowered yourself to the ground. With half of the lights in your apartment gone you could barely make out the end of the corridor, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was there. And he was waiting. Seokjin.

=====

“Ma’am. Could you please move out of the entrance? We can’t bring the couch in if you are blocking the way.” For what it felt like the umpteenth time that day, you jumped feeling your heart take refuge in your throat. Blinking you realised you could not only move, but you’d never even crossed the threshold nor fallen to the ground. Eyes raking across the room you noticed that nothing was amiss, the lights were working and intact and there was no beautiful danger anywhere in sight. You’d been standing still in the middle of your entrance. You went to turn around to apologise when you realised the feeling of your hands unclenching hurt as if you’d been doing that for a long time.

“I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your way now. Just drop it wherever.” You apologised to the slightly miffed men watching you with mild irritation. You reveled in your ability to move, breathing a sigh of relief, as you got out of the entranceway.

Watching as they brought the couch in, your eyes barely focused on anything of substance, your mind too preoccupied with undoing the puzzle of what just happened earlier. You could easily deem it to be your imagination – and you would’ve, if not for the name stuck on your tongue like honey setting your body on fire. Seokjin.

Diary entry #40

They’ve not allowed me to see her but I got a glimpse as they transferred me to a different cell. Even from afar she looked so beautiful like a flower in full bloom on a sunny spring day. She was warm, she made me happy. I wanted to go to her but those wretched bastards only laughed at me as I begged on my knees to be allowed to see her. They dragged me by the neck. But they don’t know. They don’t. Just wait until I have theirs.

=====

The slight anxiety that gripped you when the movers finished bringing everything up and left, should have been a good indication to pick up your phone and call a friend. Regardless of what happened, or didn’t happen- as you kept trying to convince yourself, the house was unfamiliar territory. Its cream coloured walls, accentuated by the mahogany floors, combined with the wide entryways and tall ceilings, were by far what you’d call comfortable.

Your grandmother passed it on to you, her sole inheritor, but she’d never once mentioned an apartment of this size - and you could barely even remember visiting your grandmother in your childhood. As an adult, you’d moved away for work and never looked back. If that didn’t scream broken family you didn’t know what else did. You didn’t know much about your family, immediate or removed. Not ones to talk about themselves much, nothing worthwhile was mentioned during your make believe family reunions, and so you rarely bothered to ask.

Looking around the room, you sighed at the sheer amount of work you’d have to do. The boxes that once pretended to be stacked neatly were haphazardly scattered round - you immediately spied the one labelled kitchen sitting on its side and rushed to set it straight hoping nothing smashed. Tired and overwhelmed, you sat down on the couch – the couch that never ended up where it was meant to. Instead it was carelessly left crooked in the middle of the living room like a totem. You wanted nothing more than to sleep but a slight remnant of fear from your earlier experience nagged you to stay awake at least until dawn.

Glancing at your watch you felt the pull of sleep at your eyelids. Combined with the familiarity of the couch, if not the room, you conceded that you could maybe take a short nap. Curling in on yourself, you felt your body relax; tendrils of sleep made their way into your tired thoughts and a familiar haze engulfed you. Earlier you were cold, as the stale air in the apartment was not warmed up by the heating. Whereas in that moment, you felt warm as if a blanket had been placed over you. Your eyelids drooped to the rhythmic tik tok coming from the grandfather clock down the corridor. You basked in the sound for a second, until, through muddled thoughts, you realised it was increasing in tempo, now accompanied by a tap in the pipes and…whistling?

The familiarity of the tune was enough to awaken you, but no matter how much you tried to pull yourself out of sleep you found that you couldn’t. What was it? Hamlet? No. Danse Macabre! Leaded limbs and head stuffed with cotton balls, you could only be still as you tried in vain to convince yourself it was your overactive imagination combined with the day’s strenuous activity. Surely it was the old piping system. That, or the wind from outside making its way through the unseen cracks in the windows; your mind could’ve conjured the rhythm to a classical piece you’ve heard more than once. As the sound of the pipes’ metallic banging increased in volume you desperately shut your eyes, hoping that you would fall asleep somehow. You could deal with the apartment’s disrepair, and your regret about moving in, later.

Dots of white danced behind your eyelids, and you could feel the goosebumps rising on your skin from the cold air that caressed you through your clothes. Shifting as much as the heaviness in your body would allow, you fought to get yourself more comfortable, the soft couch against your back. The light touch of air against your ankles crawling further up made you jolt your leg. You felt awake with thoughts rushing through your brain but muddled with the desire to let yourself sleep.

“Oh come on.” Mumbling into your arm, you shook your legs again bringing them closer to you. Lying on your back now, with your feet planted firmly onto the couch, knees bent as you crossed your ankles, you hoped this would protect you from the chill permeating the house. You refused to get up and try to fix the heating – not until you had a satisfying amount of sleep and some food in the morning.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the banging had stopped. You smiled in relief- Peace. “Finally, I can sleep.”

“Think again, little lamb.” Jerking on spot at the familiar voice, you tried to sit up, only to find yourself unable to move once more. Eyes wide open, you looked around looking for its source, until you zoned in on the intruder.

Him. You opened your mouth to speak but only a garbled whimper made its way past your lips.

“Shhh, Y/N, you don’t have to speak. Just feel.” His voice was enticing, the way his lips moved with each syllable enraptured you, and you closed your mouth obediently. You tried to squirm in hopes of breaking free from whatever was holding you down. But his tut drew your attention towards him once more. He was beautiful with his red blood lips, white skin and eyes as piercing as lightning. You were so bewitched by him that you were too late to realise that the ticklish feeling you’d felt along your ankle was not the draft coming in through the windows. Crawling its way past the inside of your knee, slowly tracing the soft skin underneath your clothes, you shivered. Glancing down, you almost missed the mist that enveloped your whole body. On closer inspection, you could see the way it bent and trailed across your clothes, within the opening of your trousers, almost moulding to the nooks, moving like water - slowly but surely reaching higher and higher up your leg.

A breathy moan made its way past your lips when it reached the inner part of your thigh, a sensitive spot for you. The sensation was too much for you and you tried vain to move away. As your breathing came out in raspy pants, your eyes found the man once more, silently pleading - for what you didn’t know. The more you felt caressed in intimate places the more you didn’t want it to stop.

“Please.” You stuttered, the spark of joy at being able to talk gone in a flash as the airy tendrils reached the edge of your underwear tracing the seams not quite touching you where you needed it.

The ethereal man smiled crudely at you, his darkening eyes piercing right through yours. “Say my name, pet.” He demanded and you glanced at him confusedly. “You know it, you must have heard of me.” He insisted and you opened your mouth to admit to his statement.

“Seokjin.” Gasping in surprise you shut your lips tightly. At the same time you felt the pressure against your pussy lips increase in response to the name. It reached right above your panties slightly teasing your inflamed clit causing sparks to travel up your spine in pleasure. “I–“ You could barely think, the sensation of your panties slowly being teased, the hems being lifted slightly to allow more room. When the material clung to your mound you whimpered in shame, eyes flitting around the room. You realised how wet you were already, and only from the ghost-like touches.

“Eyes on me, pet. I need to see you, I need to watch the shame in your eyes as you come for your worst enemy.” Confused at his words but unable to produce anything but a wanton moan you felt the pressure move from your mons to your clit. The slight thrumming and rhythmic circles that the tendrils were subjugating you to, created goosebumps on your skin.

Even if your eyes snapped back to Seokjin you barely noticed when he moved, the speed with which he did was too fast for your eyes to catch. Smirking down at your flabbergasted expression he knelt down by the side of the couch dangerously close to your immobile legs. Surprised but still under the spell of the sexual ministrations, you resisted the urge to let yourself succumb to the pure unadulterated pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Let go little lamb, let me control your needs. Look at you, so desperate for release. You’re so wet I can smell you.” Seokjin sang enticingly and for a moment you found yourself ready to let go, your head loling backwards as a loud moan was ripped out of your throat.

“Seokjin, please just-“ You couldn’t finish the sentence, you didn’t know what you wanted from him. To fuck you? To make you come? To let you go? All these were running through your head, the second of clarity gone as the light touches against your clit became increasingly insistent, pushing on the nub, rubbing it side to side, making you squirm at the tightness you felt in your abdomen. Your own slickness became louder and louder to your ears and you let your head drop completely as you pushed your hips upwards in an attempt to increase the pressure onto your pussy.

“Ah little lamb, that’s it, let yourself go. I want to see your beautiful pussy as you come for me.” His words barely made it through your pleasure riddled brain. When you felt your clothes being removed from you, the sensation of molten chocolate once again caressing your skin as if you were bathing in it, you lifted your head. The surprise of seeing your clothes just melt away from your body didn’t deter from the way your pussy clenched, it added to it. You didn’t know whether it was a dream or not but your brain decided it didn’t matter, its sole goal was to release the tension you’ve been feeling for weeks. And if all it took was a hallucination of yours, you would more than happily take it.

“Ah look at you, so wet and so ready for me. You’re so eager and look so delectable that I can’t resist you, pet.” Seokjin hummed in appreciation and for a second he looked less angry, the smile of satisfaction making him look younger, freer. He was attractive, and you voiced that out loud without a second thought.

“You’re beautiful.” You mused breathily regretting from the moment you watched his face morph from a smile to a grimace.

“Stop!” He yelled out. The anger radiating off him seeped through you, cold and ruthless like the winter wind. “Do not call me that!” At the venom in his voice you wanted to reel back, but, unable to move, you settled for closing your eyes as a shiver ran down your spine.

“It seems like you need to be reminded, pet, that I am not here to please you. I am here to hurt you, make you scream until your throat goes raw, make you beg for release. Just like I begged for mine.” Seokjin spat out. “Now look at me!” Your eyes flew open at his demand, the harsh slap against your thigh. You wanted to protest, rebel against his hold on you, but the cold touch of his fingers on your heated skin and the constant pressure on your clit were making it hard for you to think of anything but the fire coursing through you. Bucking your hips, you bit your lip and moaned as you locked eyes with his dark obsidian ones.

Smirking in satisfaction he dug his fingers into your skin. For a moment you sputtered realising how pale he was close up, and if you squinted at him hard enough you could see the outline of the boxes behind him. Confused for a moment you disconnected from what was happening around you, your mind reeling with possibilities.

“What are you?” You whispered. Trying in vain to lift yourself onto your arms to get a better look at him you gasped when you felt the coldness wrap around your wrists, holding you in place. Ripping your eyes off of his you spotted the wispy coils tightly secured around your arms, tight enough for you to feel the pressure, but not to hurt you.

“Later pet,” Seokjin hummed, eyes flitting between your face and your wet pussy. “Now you’re going to watch me as I taste you.” Gasping not only at his words but the intrusion between your cunt, his fingers separating them as he basked in how wet you were, and all for him.

“Fuck, wait–“ Your hips jolted as the two fingers found your entrance and plunged in without a warning. The squelch of your pussy as his fingers pumped in and out mercilessly and the sight of his hooded lustful eyes watching it as if it was the most delectable meal made you moan. The shame of your wanton abandon made you hotter, edging your orgasm on. “Ah, Seokjin.” You cried out fighting to keep your eyes on him.

At the mention of his name, he roughly pushed his fingers in as far as they would go, making you instinctively want to lift your hips up, forgetting about the weight of the mist holding you down. “Do not say my name, not when you’re moaning my name like a whore, it’s Master to you pet. Understood?” Glancing at you for a second, his free hand pinching the side of your hips he waited, fingers stationary in you. The feel of him so deep within but unmoving, made your walls clamp around him, desperate to feel the friction again.

“Understood?” He asked again, his voice expressing the lack of patience at your unresponsiveness. Nodding at him, you knew it was the wrong response when the fingers that still dug into the side of your hips painfully pressed harder making you yelp. “Out loud.”

“Yes… Master.” The words, as degrading as they sounded to you, served their purpose and you sighed when his hard eyes softened, his fingers resuming their activity within your hungry pussy. Realising you were getting more turned on by the minute, Seokjin’s dominance over you– a catalyst, you moaned out in shame. His fingers were filling you up and the friction was enough to set you on fire.

He pumped them mercilessly within you, a hungry look in his eyes; the need to see you fall apart under him; the need to see you suffer in pleasure, fuelling his rage. Not stopping his ministrations, not even when you begged him for more, your slick walls craved to be touched and handled rougher. You were reaching the edge of release when slowed down, lazily feeling you, his fingers slowly pistoning in and out.

“Seokjin, please, I’m close.” You whimpered, raising your hips as much as you could to match his movement.

His eyes trailed up to yours slowly, the hungry look tainted by a spark of pure pleasure. He enjoyed seeing you suffer. Pulling out of you, he presented to you the fingers that were once in your pussy, the wetness shining in the overhead light. Everything went quiet, you couldn’t even hear the sound of the old pipes barely withstanding the water passing through them, and for a second you remembered you were dreaming, this was not real. Ashamed at yourself for being so lewd you wanted to look away but could only blink enraptured as he lazily traced them over your stomach, leaving wet trails all the way back down to your cunt.

“So beautiful. Such a shame.” He whispered to himself and before you could question his words, his fingers pressed onto your sensitive nub once more making you arch your hips in surprise. The hand on your thigh tightened its grip, holding you in place preventing you from reaching your high.

“You’re not coming until I say so, pet.” He chuckled at your distress, disregarding your pleading look. Not giving you a break, he continuously played with your clit, rubbing it back and forth making you tremble in pleasure. “I want you on the verge. I want to see the satisfaction in your eyes when you're close to the edge.” He paused his movements, his eyes glinting with mischief as he licked his lips. Breath caught in your throat you gulped anxious to know what he would say but also desperate for him to keep touching you. When he descended his mouth over your mound you didn’t even bother holding in your sob of pleasure. His tongue parting your folds prodding you, slurping every bit of wetness you had to offer. He relentlessly drank you in, his tongue fucking into you harder than anyone’s done.

The tremors in your muscles were not giving up and you knew you were close. If he carried on he’d set you over the edge, the ball of pleasure tightening in your abdomen ready to be released. Still held tight onto the couch, your hands gripped at anything they could.

“Seok– master, I can’t–“ you whimpered, unable to stop yourself.

Hearing the despair in your voice he glanced at you, his mouth still on your pussy, savouring you as if he was a starved man. True to his promise, as soon as he felt you clench around his tongue, he retreated completely. Both of his hands gripped your thighs, preventing you from moving.

Sobbing in despair, you squirmed to get your hands free to touch yourself. You were so close, almost ready to go over the edge and succumb to the pleasure. But now as he left you alone, open to the cold air around you, your hands still unable to move, you couldn't do anything but whine as your cunt muscles clenched around air. You wanted to beg for your own release, yet you couldn't find the words necessary in between your desperate sobs and his touch on your thighs that spread you further open, smearing your wetness all over your sensitive skin.

The hunger in his eyes intensified as he took in your glistening pussy, the feeling of your muscles trembling under his touch giving him the satisfaction that he needed. He could feel how hard he was for you, yet he promised himself he would not seek his own release yet. He had no need to breathe, but the smell of you was so strong around him that he couldn’t help himself but inhale deeply, his nose buried in your folds, the tip almost touching your clit.

The lewd display and his actions did nothing to console you, he was not touching you as you wanted him to. Your voice was croaking as you sobbed, your fists clenching and unclenching as you squirmed around trying to feel some sort of pressure on your mound. Something to help you come.

“Maybe,” he crooned, “if you are good enough, I will let you come.” His nose still buried deep into you he punctuated each word with a small flick of his tongue against your pussy.

“Please, Master.” Completely letting go of any inhibitions, you begged and pleaded promising you would be good, if only he’d fill you up once more - you were so close and his tongue teasing you was keeping you on edge.

Seokjin felt the anger rage within him once more and his hand came down to slap your thigh, earning a yell from you at the sting. He didn’t stop, not even when the tears streamed down your face. Mercilessly he let his palm marr the sensitive skin only stopping from time to time to caress it. Once his slaps drew closer to your mound you felt an animalistic growl leave your throat. Your brain felt fuzzy and the pain and pleasure mixed so well that you didn’t care which one you were getting - to you it was all the same.

“Fuck.” The invasion of three of his fingers in your unprepared cunt made you howl out, your walls clamping around his hand.

“That’s it little lamb, cry for me.” He cooed, the hand that was not pumping inside of you softly stroking the reddened skin that he’d just slapped. “Good girl.” He praised you, the softness of his voice shifting something inside of you.

“Now you can come.” He demanded, his lips sucking at your clit, teeth grazing the nub as he roughly scissored the three fingers that were filling you up.

“Fuck Master, I’m coming.” You cried, the edging and yout senses on fire for a while making tears pool in your eyes, slowly trickling down your face. The sensation of being bathed in cold water as your nerves burnt with your release prolonged the feeling and you sobbed a moan, muscles cramping from being under tension.

“That is it pet, you’re so beautiful like that, desperate for my touch, desperate for me. Just like I was for you.” Seokjin smiled ruefully, a spark of sadness blooming behind his eyes. If you were not crying before, you would have then as you felt a desperate need to wrap him in your arms. Reaching out, the tips of your fingers barely touching him, settling on the stray wisps of his hair, your teary eyes widened when you couldn’t feel him.

“What are you?”

Diary entry #125

She came to see me today. She hid from the guards and I couldn’t have been more proud of her. She was upset, she didn’t tell me why, but I could see it on her face – I could see from the streaks of tears that she cried well into the night. I didn’t ask, I have a feeling I know what she would say. I didn’t even talk to her. I embraced her and held her to me as I gave her my strength. We stayed like that until we could hear the shackles of the doors as the new guards came. Only then as I could see the back of her dress turning the corner did I tell her to find the grimoire.

=====

You couldn’t tell when the dream bled into reality, or if what you experienced was a figment of your sleep paralysed self. You could only feel the material of the couch against your naked lower half, the wetness that coated it making it rough against your skin. The pounding against your head felt like a jackhammer brought to your skull, and as you tried to lift yourself up, you realised how sore you felt.

Confused, in pain, and your brain still battling the shocks of the orgasm that woke you up, you let yourself fall back down onto the couch. Not moving a muscle until it suddenly felt cold once more, the fluids that coated you became sticky. All you could smell was your own cum as it dried out onto the couch and your legs. You struggled to push yourself off the couch with heavy limbs and sighed when you were greeted once more with the sight of the boxes strewn around you. You didn’t remember it to be this haphazard before you laid down to sleep – but then again you remembered very little from the previous day, the mental and physical strain blending it into a painting akin to a Dali.

I’m hurt little lamb. The melodious voice paired with the slight laughter sounded familiar, and your eyes widened. Seokjin, the beautiful but vengeful man that haunted your mind. You easily remembered the way his skin glowed as if transparent and the way he looked at you as if you were a prey. You shivered – what you mostly remembered was the tight grip he had on your ankles, holding your writhing body down as his skillful mouth on your pussy brought on your release.

Clenching your legs together trying to get a hold of your bearings, you remembered your nakedness. It surely was all a dream, it’s been a long time since you got the opportunity to release any tension; whether it be by sleeping with someone or your own fingers and shiny vibrator. It all explained why you’d conjure up such a man and such a descriptive dream so suddenly.

Never trust your mind, it will try to trick you into believing what it is easy for it to believe. You recalled what you had heard your grandmother say to you more than once. You were young and obnoxious. Not one for caring too much about an elder's advice - even now, you found yourself dismissing quite easily the testament that you were given, along with the news of her passing away.

When the grandfather clock struck the hour, the loud metallic sound made you jolt in panic. Still high strung and naked on the couch you realised you didn’t even know what time of day it was. Careful to not pull a muscle, you sat yourself up, tasting the bile slowly making its way up your throat.

“Ugh, that is disgusting.” You pulled a face, eyes searching for something to indicate how long you’ve been asleep for. The blinds were shut but not as fully and you could see the crack of dawn slither its way in, bathing the room in shadows. Fully awake but still too early to start unpacking you decided that a proper tour of the place was in order.

“Ouch.” Sliding off the couch you scoured the place for your trousers wondering how you managed to throw them all the way across the room. Slowly limping, your back and legs sore from the position you slept in, you reached them only to realise they were not only ripped to shreds but also soaked. As you bent down to pick your bottoms up, flashes of the moment you came violently as Seokjin, the man your mind conjured, fingered you ran through your head.

“How in the world–?” You pondered, heartbeat increasing in pace as your breathing got more ragged by the minute.

Across the corridor connecting the living room to the rest of the house, hidden in the shadows, Seokjin watched bemusedly as your mind kept trying to piece the events together, to make sense of what you experienced. He could still smell you, your fragrance still fresh in his mind and he basked in the memory of it, the need to have you once again, fully was making him impatient. Knowing that he had to wait for longer until then, his plan not yet executed, he sighed. His blood was singing with the need for revenge, the need to possess you, the need for you. But to you he was but a figment of your imagination. Eyes gleaming with excitement at what he had in store for you, he decided that keeping himself hidden would be a waste. So when you started muttering to yourself about the state of your trousers he lazily made his way out of the shadows.

“Little lamb,” He addressed you, ignoring the way you swerved round, eyes and mouth wide open. “I am surprised you can still walk, it was a wild rough night for you wasn’t it? Even worse for your trousers- I’m also not sorry about that by the way.” He shrugged emotionlessly, his eyes watching every move you made, like a cat waiting to pounce.

“You, what… am I still not awake?” You sputtered rushing to cover yourself, looking around for a second trying to find a clue for your answer. When you couldn’t see anything amiss, not like you would’ve been able to tell with the state of the apartment, you resorted to pinching your arm.

“Tsk, did you really think you were creative enough to make this whole thing up?” He laughed and you couldn’t help but stare at him, the sound was so unique and specific that you were entranced. You’re beautiful. “Is that what you were told? ‘Don't believe’?” You gasped as his face morphed once more into a mask of rage. “I knew your family was full of liars, but I didn’t think they’d keep this much away from you.” He seethed, fists clenching. The rage that coursed through him made him vibrate with hatred.

You couldn’t do anything but stare at him open mouthed. Your state of undress was not even important anymore – you watched in awe how the smoke like tendrils expanded once more from his body, lashing at everything and anything that was in his vicinity. When a stack of books hurtled your way you yelped and ducked, throwing yourself to the floor.

“Please stop.” You pleaded, eyes closed and arms covering your head as an attempt to protect yourself from the objects flying around the house.

“Why should I? Hm? Did they stop when I asked them to?” He raged, his spite so strong you could taste the venom on your tongue.

“Please, I don’t know what or who they are but I have nothing to do with it.” You sobbed, the pain from hitting the floor blossoming behind your eyelids, you knew it was going to leave a nasty bruise.

Only when the commotion seemed to die down, the coldness surrounding you disappearing along with it did you chance to look around, your heart struggling to get a grip of its own rhythm. Eyes widened you staggered to straighten yourself up, the man whose rage you tried to escape from now motionlessly standing in the middle of the room. He was not moving, and if you hadn’t experienced his mobility earlier you’d think he was just a statue, a prop in the middle of your living room. Your clean living room.

You glanced around mouth wide open, despite his rage, he managed to rearrange the furniture neatly, not one thing out of place. If your heart wasn’t acting like a frightened mouse inside your chest you would’ve laughed at the irony. The couch was placed in line with the middle of the living area, the bookshelves were all neatly hung and the books that ominously came for your head were lined up in a row... you squinted, alphabetically. Separate boxes, intact by the looks of it, were situated by the archway to the kitchen, and if you tried to crane your neck enough you could see the dark pans lining the shiny red tiles on the wall.

“You…” he spoke loudly, his voice so clear it echoed through the room. “You have everything to do with it.” Despite the words filled with blame, he looked tired and defeated. His face blended in a mixture of emotions, pain, regret, exhaustion. For a second you almost reached out to him, your hand already off the floor ready to comfort him. Then you remembered that he was not to be trifled with. He didn’t need your consolation - he hated you.

You also knew nothing about him, what he was, where he was coming from, why he was there? All these thoughts plaguing your mind you didn’t even notice him approach you until he crouched down next to you, his face so close to yours you could see the creases in the corner of his eyes, his irises mirroring his saddened expression. You could almost touch the smooth expanse of his skin, but upon closer inspection you realised you could see through it.

Gasping you reeled back distraught at your discovery. “What exactly are you? And why are you here?” You gulped, hoping your questions would not trigger another fit of rage from him. When nothing happened, you felt your shoulders lose the tension in them, grateful for the wall supporting you. It hadn’t even been a full day since you’ve moved, you were overwhelmed. You couldn’t even sleep on it–

“Wait if you’re real, does this mean…?” Looking down at your state of nakedness you all but blushed. Rising up, you quickly made your way towards the couch – the couch that now with his help stood in the exact spot you wanted it to, and grabbed the blanket off of it.

You turned around ready to wrap it around yourself when a hand, too cold to be comfortable, grabbed your wrist preventing you from moving.

“Little lamb,” he whispered, his voice as smooth and sweet as honey. The palm holding your wrist travelled up, tracing patterns over your skin, making it tingle with goosebumps. “Pet.” He sang again, his other arm encircling your waist pulling you to him and you gasped instinctively closing your eyes. Letting your head drop backwards onto his shoulder, your fist clenched as did your abdomen. It was all coming back to you. The memory of your orgasm, the way it ripped out of you like a storm. Your knees trembled and you bit your lip.

“My pet.” He breathed into your hair, his words trickling down your spine making you shudder as you released a breathy moan. “You are mine to use, and mine to play with, and right now, I don't want you covered by anything.” The blanket was ripped out of your hands and you whined, the last object that grounded you gone from your grasp. You held your breath waiting for him to touch you, your muscles already tense anticipating his next move. But when all he did was grip onto your hip tighter, leading you slowly towards the couch, you almost sighed. Conflicted, unsure whether or not you were grateful for the respite or disappointed you waited patiently, blinking up at him unsure of what to say.

“I am real, well as real as I can be.” He finally spoke, his chuckle filled with bitterness. He was standing in front of you, his hands rubbing his face as a tired man would do at the end of a long work day.

“Are you tired?” You whispered concern lacing through your words. You didn’t know why you’d felt compelled to ask him that. He was all but vengeful towards you, rough and uncouth. He didn’t need your sympathy. Judging by the way he grimaced at your words he was on the same page as you.

“Y/N. To die, to sleep— To sleep, perchance to dream." He quoted Hamlet. The exhaustion in his words transformed into something darker, deeper. Anger. He bent down so his face was on the same level as yours, a look of hatred crossing over his face. “The living dead are always tired. ”

Diary entry #203

Today is the day I will finally be free. I only need to retrieve the grimoire for him and I will be able to be with her forever. It’s such a sweet thought knowing that we can finally love each other. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for a long time.

=====

Your mouth dropped wide open in surprise, the unexpected answer causing you to pause. Your mind reeling with the implications of what he just said. “The what?” You whispered barely able to find your voice. You couldn’t quite understand what he was hinting at, but deep down you knew that he was not lying. The powers that he displayed, everything that you experienced at his hand - it couldn’t have happened if he was entirely human. But it couldn’t be possible, these things did not exist.

His laugh at your perplexed look was dark, dark enough to cause the goosebumps to rise on your skin once more and you shifted away from him, burying yourself further into the couch. Hands shaking desperate to cover yourself, not just your naked bottom half, but the whole of yourself. You felt exposed, the notion that he could be a supernatural being somehow made you feel stripped of any protection.

“Oh little lamb, you have so much to learn.” He took a step back and you released a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in. “But I won’t be the one to teach you. You don’t deserve that. No one in your family does.” He seethed, the cold air picking up around you once more, making you tremble your eyes closing for a second, unable to calm your beating heart down.

“Seokjin.” Your voice sounded meek as you tried to pacify him, unsure whether or not your attention would make things worse. You tried to keep yourself composed despite all the warnings in your head that were screaming at you to run away. Opening your eyes, you were surprised when there was no angry supernatural being. If not for the sight of your newly unpacked boxes strewn around the clean apartment you would have thought you were still dreaming. Looking around you confusedly, trying to make sense of what had just happened your eyes landed on your trousers lying next to you, their tattered state reassuring you that it had not been your overactive imagination. Wearily getting up you hurried to cover yourself, unsure of what to do with yourself now that you were definitely certain of the presence of an angry being in your house.

Too sore and tired, the rational side of you won, you knew regardless of not having to unpack anymore, you had a lot of work to do. Eyeing the stairs that led to the upper floor you knew you’d better get the day started, there was a family tree you had to dig up and a history to unveil.

Diary entry #220

He lied, he lied and he will pay for it. He left me for dead once he got his hands on his prize. I’m lying here knowing I do not have much time, trying to think of her but all I can imagine is the pain I will put them through. His whole family. I will not stop until I feel satisfied with my revenge.

======

You didn’t expect to find anything in the old study that your grandmother had left untouched. When you first visited the house you found it odd that the whole house had been cleared out except for that one old room. The dust had settled over the brightly coloured futons, their velvet more than ready for a clean. The heavy furniture in there included a desk and some chairs dotted around the space - reading corners you suspected.

Cautiously you walked around the room, your sense of smell becoming more accustomed to the scent of old wood and dust invading your nostrils. Fingers grazing at the books set neatly on the shelves you grimaced at the amount of grime gathered on your hand. It was clear that the place hadn’t been aired or cleaned in a while, and you couldn’t help but wonder if your grandmother had even bothered to enter this room at all during her lifetime.

“What are you doing?” Seokjin’s loud voice breaking through the stillness of the room made you jump in surprise. Staring at him you didn’t know what to say, your mind plagued by thoughts on what he may have been. Remembering the way your hand went straight through him you suspected him to not be human, yet you couldn’t determine anything else.

“What are you?” You hadn’t intended on asking him that again, but your curiosity got the best of you.

Tutting as he shook his head he strolled around the space, his presence engulfing it. All of a sudden you felt trapped, his body languidly pacing around you, made the room seem smaller and you tried to shift into a corner hoping you would be unnoticed.

“Ah, I have been wishing for freedom for this place for so long. I don't know what freedom looks like anymore. I only know my hatred towards your family. A liar’s blood courses through your veins Y/N, and no matter what, I promised to get my revenge.” He spoke up not minding you, his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him, a faraway look in his gaze.

You almost thought he’d forgotten about you until he turned around, his dark eyes fixed on yours. “Tell you what?” He made his way towards you, and with each step he took your breathing sped up. “You try to guess what I am…” when he reached you he bent down to your level, the cold air that always seemed to surround him fanning around you. “But if you get it wrong…” his finger trailed over your cheek, softly and you closed your eyes at the contact. “You will pay.” When he reached your throat, his fingers slowly tightened around it. Not enough to choke you, but enough that it startled you, your breathing erratic.

“I-“ trying to fight him, to tell him no, that this wasn’t fair to you and you never even wanted to meet him in the first place, let alone play these games with him. It all seemed futile. You couldn’t utter a word. Instead you found yourself staring at his face, his ethereal features, nodding in approval. Only when he disappeared from view did you realise the mistake you’d made.

=====

Your nights bled into your days, your sense of time completely shifted as Jin’s rage and wrath kept you awake throughout. The minor inconveniences during the day, such as your things going missing and appearing in other places around the house; turning the lights off and whistling randomly as he made his presence known; those were not the problem. During the night was when you actually experienced his revenge. His fits would leave you writhing under his tongue and fingers, wet and desperate for release, before an orgasm took over as you cried out his name. You knew as soon as you started anticipating your nights that you were in deeper than you’d ever intended.

Throughout the free time you had, and whenever he decided to offer you respite, you’d keep searching through the old library for the key to the locked box in the corner of the room.

“Give up Y/N.” Jin said boredly, his body leaning over one of the chairs, languidly stretching as if he was the one to experience sleepless nights instead of you.

Huffing at him, and trying to fight off the heat that threatened to swallow you whole just by hearing his voice, you stubbornly kept searching through the drawers. “Do you have nothing else to do?” You chanced it, not having had a conversation until now that involved more than you yelling out his name and begging him to allow you to come. With the realisation that he still hadn’t exactly mentioned what he was, you turned around to him.

“Grim reaper?” You threw it at him and he glanced at you amusedly.

“Nice try Y/N, but no. I am too handsome for that. Devilishly handsome.” He smirked at you knowingly and you snapped your fingers.

“The devil? Satan? A ghoul?” You fired them at him, the further down your list you got the more disgusted you became at what your mind conjured up. Days ago, you would have laughed at anyone who dared to imply the supernatural realm was real, now you were sleeping with one. Well, ish.

Seokjin’s laugh echoed out, the distinct sound was rare to your ears. “No, try again. Careful though,” his voice darkened and you paused what you were doing to glance at him. “Carry on this path and I’ll thoroughly feel insulted if you don’t figure it out.” He suddenly disappeared from your view and you gasped as you felt his breath right next to your ear.

“And don’t forget our pact…. The more you fail the more I get to…” The sharp pain you felt at the nape of your throat made you realise he’s sunk his teeth in you. “Hurt you.” His dark whisper once again promised pain, but you bit your lip from moaning out loud knowing that it also meant pleasure. You’d already missed so many times that you knew tonight would be a wild ride for you.

Only it didn’t. That night you spent alone in the library looking for the key, distracted by any sound that could indicate his arrival. Yet for the whole night, it was just you and the creaking sound of the pipes whenever a neighbour decided to use the hot water. Frustratedly you threw yourself onto the chair by the desk playing with your necklace trying hard to imitate Seokjin’s whistles. You stared at patterns on the ceiling, your eyes focused on one spot, your mind playing tricks on you when all of a sudden you gasped jolting out of your chair, your hand pulling at the necklace around your neck.

“This!” Hurriedly taking it off you stared at it, a cross like object dangling at the end of the chain its golden shine catching in the low light. When you received it you had no idea what it was, and you didn’t bother asking. You wondered on your own dismissing it as a jeweler's odd choice. Until now. Until this moment when you realised that it may be more important than you’d thought.

Slotting it into the lock of the box you cursed when it didn’t fit, and for a moment you were prepared to give up, when a flick of your wrist clicked the lock open. You stared at it for a second unsure of what you’d find if you opened it.

“Seokjin?” You called out instinctively. Realising what you’d done you shut your mouth tightly, your lips in a thin line and you glanced around for the supernatural apparition. When you couldn't see him you breathed in slowly, when had he become the person you relied on the most?

Dismissing the thought, you quickly placed a hand over the box, and without giving yourself the time to delay it anymore you opened the lid. You didn’t know what you’d expected, but the sight of a lone old book was not it. Raising an eyebrow confusedly you resisted the urge to curse. All this trouble for an old book? Feeling ridiculous, you carelessly picked it up. After your hand made contact with the cover you felt its energy coursing through your body. You immediately dropped it to the ground, your heartbeat speeding up as unintelligible whispers surrounded you. It took you a moment to decipher the mumbled whispers and jumbled words, but after a while you realised they were telling you a story.

A story about a man who, centuries ago, foolishly made a pact with a business owner, a witcher and a merchant. Having fallen in love with the businessman’s eldest daughter he agreed to bring a spellbook back - a grimoire. In return for his services the businessman promised him his daughter’s hand in marriage. Incited by the prospect of marrying the woman he loved, the man promised to lend the businessman his powers to retrieve the book. But instead of keeping to his promise, the businessman shackled the man, until the spellbook was retrieved. Beating him, using his powers as he lay on the grimy floor of a dungeon, he was treated like nothing short of a dog. The only thing that kept the man alive was the thought of his love, the hope still shining inside of him that maybe one day, the businessman would actually keep his promise. He knew all too well he was lying to himself but from time to time he got to see the woman he loved. That kept him alive throughout the torture he went through. The woman who tried to help him on more than one occasion, only to fail and fall under the wrath of her father.

When the spellbook was retrieved, the hope died. Instead of his daughter’s hand in marriage he received a dagger to his heart. Using the last of his energy he cast a vengeful curse upon the family. They would be forever haunted by his wrath, until the promise was fulfilled. Any member of the family that came across him would be forever bound to his spirit. Until the eldest daughter binds herself to him in marriage, no one would be spared. He would not rest until he got his revenge.

“…the other must forfeit.” You recited with the voices as if this was something you’ve known all along.

You didn’t realise you’d started crying until you woke up from the trance, your chest heaving with sobs. You sobbed for the man, the man whom you knew was in fact the very ghost haunting you, you sobbed for the woman who lost him, you sobbed for your family, the spark of hatred blooming in your chest. You knew it was your lineage that was at fault for his loss and for his wrath. You were more than aware of it now. Something akin to determination settled over you, and as you finally picked up the spellbook opening it you saw the flimsy brown pages of an old diary staring back at you. The penmanship was elegant and despite the rips in the corners, it looked to be in good condition.

As you settled yourself in a chair ready to read something shifted in you, and for once the thought of the beautiful ghost inside your apartment filled your heart with warmth.

Diary entry #2

I saw the most beautiful woman today as I made my way to the market. Her hair shines as brightly as her smile, her eyes are galaxies in the sky and her voice, a song sung by angels. I have never been struck by love but this time I fear that Cupid may have targeted my heart with all the arrows in his quiver. She smiled at me and offered me her hand in greeting and I almost lost my breath. I must get to know her, I must. My Y/N.

This was it.

======

You don’t know what possessed you, whether it was Seokjin himself or the knowledge that despite his hatred and anger towards you, he’s never actually harmed you, (he’d been rough, and left more than one bruise on you during his nightly sessions), but the memory of each and every orgasm you had under his ministrations made up your mind.

With that thought in mind you didn’t falter in your step once you reached the back of the house, where you knew you’d usually found him.

“Seokjin!” Yelling out his name, the only response you got was the cold echo of your voice ringing back at you. “Seokjin! Please.” You tried once more, aggravated at the situation. You needed him to come out, you needed to show him what you had found but you also just needed him. Turning on the spot when you couldn’t see him anywhere in the corridor, you decided to walk into your bedroom.

The room was barely lit, the light bulbs unchanged for so long and on their way out. Despite the low light you could clearly see the room and its lack of ghostly apparition.

“Seokjin! I have something to show you!” Yelling at the top of your lungs, hoping you wouldn’t disturb your neighbours as it was well past midnight, you waited once more. And once more only silence greeted you. Sighing in frustration you walked to your mirror deciding that if the stubborn vengeful ghost would not show himself, he was sure to show up in your dreams. Huffing and puffing whilst you got ready for the night you jumped startled when a loud bang was heard in the corridor. Jolting out of your seat, you rushed out to check if Seokjin had decided to play tricks on you once more.

“Stop being so stubborn.” You muttered to yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the corridor, the living room was devoid of any mischievous handsome apparition, and the kitchen was as clean as you left it before. When you heard the bang again and determined that it was an engine stalling outside you sighed, surprised at how affected you were by the knowledge that you were not going to see him. Deciding to give up, you got yourself ready for sleep smiling with the knowledge that surely he will be there waiting for you.

He wasn’t. Nor was he present in your life for a few weeks. The first week you went about your day expecting him to come out at any point. Constantly aware of your surroundings, looking over your shoulder expectedly, yet he never appeared. The more time passed the less conscious about his absence you became. Not fully out of your mind yet not anticipating his presence anymore you became less tense, less ready for a confrontation, your nerves were less on edge. The only thing that was a constant reminder of his absence was the lack of sleepless nights - now you were fully sleeping unguarded in your bed starfished as you’d wished from the first moment you moved into the apartment.

When the third week rolled in you had had enough of your freedom, the lack of pleasurable evenings was getting to you. Resorting to your own hands and fingers, you made yourself come. The frustration of never reaching the same peak as you did when he was fingering you, licking you, teasing you, fuelled your own disappointment. You tried imagining him on more than one occasion, edging yourself on, imagining his plush lips over your nipples, his teeth grazing your clit as you were pinching it - but nothing worked as good as the real thing.

During one of your late nights, your clothes strewn around your bed, legs splayed wide open, your fingers worked deep into your pussy, you couldn’t help yourself - imagining his tongue fucking you deep within, hitting patches inside that you could only dream of- you whimpered out his name.

Not expecting a response you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to immerse completely in the fantasy. When the creak of your bedroom door could be heard you didn’t react, so close to finding your own release that you were oblivious to anything else.

“Fuck Seokjin, yes, like that, deeper.” You moaned out loud your fingers pistoning within you furiously. Your free hand on your breast you pinched your nipple tightly, the slight pain radiating through your nerves making your hips buck off the bedsheets. “Ah.”

Completely unaware that the subject of your fantasies, the man who'd been haunting not only your apartment but also your dreams, was standing in the room with you. A dark hungry look crossed over his face; watching you make yourself come, fantasising as you whispered his name, he felt his own dick swell in his pants. With no inhibition he palmed himself through the material, undoing his trousers and pulling out his red angry cock pumping himself slowly. Spreading the fluids over the top of his dick, he smirked as you switched from pinching your nipples to pinching your own clit, all the while still working your fingers deep into your cunt. The lewd display in front of him tested his patience, but he wanted to let you come, he needed you to be sensitive before he could do anything. He needed to see you cum, unaware of his presence around you but his name rolling off that sweet tongue as you gushed around your own fingers.

“Seokjin, fuck I’m going to come.” You moaned, your fingers and hips moving erratically, losing all rhythm. Your back arching off the bed muscles trembling in orgasmic bliss, he could see the wetness coating your fingers and he licked his lips almost able to taste you. Suppressing a moan he pumped himself more furiously, pausing only when he felt himself too close to coming. He didn’t want to come like this, he needed to fill you up.

Leaving you to ride your high he let his dick go, slowly inching towards the bed, like a cat stalking its prey. His eyes glinted with the knowledge that your night was just about to begin.

“Ah, little lamb, I can see that you missed me.” He purred, now close to the edge of the bed by your head. Making sure that you were in the appropriate position for what he was about to do he slowly used his energy to shift your head towards him.

Your eyes flew open at the sound of the voice you’ve not heard in weeks, but only dreamt about. Not expecting the sight that greeted you, you sputtered. There he was in all his naked glory, his wide shoulders standing proudly, his narrow hips and happy train enticing you towards his hardened member. Licking your lips you opened your mouth to respond, your voice stuck in your throat, unsure of whether or not he was really there or if you had been imagining him.

The dim light from the candles on the bed stand was illuminating his lips and cheeks, casting shadows over his eyes and part of his naked body, outlining his hip dips and the hard muscles of his arms. Eyeing his member you couldn’t help but gasp, he was fully hard unashamedly palming himself, spreading his precum all over. Licking your lips you suppressed a moan at the thought of how it might taste on your tongue. Now aware of his presence, you gasped ready to cover yourself up ashamed that he probably caught you mid orgasm.

“Nuh uh.” He simply smirked anticipating your move. Once more you found yourself unable to move your hands, the well known tendrils of his energy holding you down as a rope would. Still splayed lewdly you couldn’t help but succumb to him as he used them to caress you. Your nerves still on fire after your orgasm, it didn’t take long until you were squirming in pleasure, your wet pussy once again clenching around nothing, anticipating what was to come. What you didn’t expect was the invasion of your mouth as he approached your head fully, his dick sliding in as you moaned out your pleasure. Choking for a second at the unexpected intrusion you closed your eyes.

“Open your eyes, pet, I want you to look at me as I use your mouth to pleasure myself.” He demanded and as tempting as it was to test him, missing the way his rough behaviour would spur your orgasm on, you decided that you didn’t want to test him. Not yet. Complying, you opened your eyes. The sight of him bent over you, knees on either side of you, and his lustful gaze was too much for you. Moaning with your mouth full of his dick, you tried to relax your throat as much as you could. Not waiting for you he pushed further in, until he was deep inside your throat, your gag reflex kicking in. Sputtering you almost begged him to take it easy, but as soon as he started pumping himself in your mouth, the wisps of energy engulfing you started to touch you in all the right places, pinching your nipples and caressing your clit, and you let yourself go.

Soon enough your throat became accustomed to the invasion and you found yourself whimpering in pleasure at the taste of him. Your nails dug into the bed when he picked up the pace, your saliva coating his length, droplets of your fluids combined, coating your face.

“Look at you pet, you’re taking me in so well. You look so lewd with your mouth full of my cock dribbling all over yourself like you’re starved for it.” Seokjin purred, his breath coming out in pants as he picked up speed. Your mouth wrapping around him, the feel of your tongue on the underside of his dick - he could feel himself on the verge of his orgasm. Slowing down for a second he took in your position, sprawled out, legs open, toes curled as his energy kept its pace on your clit. With your fingers gripping at the bed sheets, eyes watery from the intrusion and the need to come, he felt something shift in him. Lazily fucking your mouth his eyes glinted when he caught sight of the candles by the bed.

You saw his eyes darken, but you were not expecting the hot searing pain that sent your nerves into overdrive when he grabbed the candle lying on your bedside and dripped the wax all over your stomach. Whimpering in pain, your toes curling almost cramping, your hips arched off the bed at the sensation. Mouth still stuffed with his cock you let the tears gathered at the corner of your eyes slip down your cheeks. Once the wax cooled off the slight painful twangs from the inflamed skin added to the sensation as fingers wiped at your tears, his cold hands soothing your flushed cheeks.

“Shhhh.” He cooed, his hips slowing their movement, until he plopped out of your mouth with a wet sound. “You’re doing so well little lamb.” He praised and you felt the pride swell in your chest at his words.

“Seokjin.” With your mouth free of his cock you tried to ask where he’s been but he barely gave you a moment of rest as he climbed over you, hand still placed on your cheek. Ignoring you he settled over your splayed body, his eyes taking in the sight of your stomach clenching and unclenching, the hardened drops of wax cracking with the movement, the red skin underneath giving him a sense of pleasure knowing that he’s caused you pain. Moaning in satisfaction he bent over, his lips engulfing yours in a rough kiss, coaxing your mouth open.

It was the first time you were experiencing his lips on yours, and despite the roughness you revelled in the sensation of their plumpness and his care as he stroked your cheek.

“My pet, you’ve given me a wonderful show. Now it’s time to repay you.” He pulled away from your lips just an inch, the hand stroking your cheek caressing further down until it reached the swell of your breasts. A raspy moan made its way past your throat as he kneaded at the sensitive flesh, pinching your nipple. Switching breasts, he attacked your lips once more for a brief moment before he trailed a path towards the sensitive flesh of your neck. His palm stroked over your pert nipples, his tongue trailing patterns in the spot where your neck met your shoulders before nuzzling it gently. You felt yourself getting dizzy, not used to this gentle behaviour from him.

“Ah, Master. Right there.” When his fingernail scraped your nipple softly, your chest heaved, desperate to feel it again.

Jin pulled away from your neck, a look of satisfaction crossing over his face as he took in his own masterpiece. Your hair was fanned like a halo around you and he would have laughed at the irony. The look displayed on your face was anything but angelic, lips thoroughly kissed, red and shining with saliva; your neck already blossoming in tiny bruises from where his teeth nipped at it; your eyes half lidded lust shining in them; your chest heaving in pleasure as his hand pinched at your nipple, sprawled out for him wax covering your abdomen trailing down to your wet pussy – no you looked like the devil’s bait. And he was about to take the plunge, his hard cock already ready to impale you.

“Good pet, you’re learning your place.” He cooed, harshly pinching your already sensitive nipple making you writhe. Bending down he kissed the skin between your breasts, his free hand sliding in between your bodies to where it found your pussy. Running his fingers between your folds, he coated his hand in your wetness before he palmed himself once more, pumping thoroughly a few times.

“I don’t even need to get you ready for me.” He mumbled the slight annoyance in his voice not missed by your ears.

You couldn’t resist the urge to buck your hips into his, urging him to be rougher with you. “Take me as you please, Master. Please fuck me hard.”

He didn’t need your approval to be rougher, and for a second he paused, the anger building inside of him. With an animalistic growl he aligned himself with your entrance plunging himself into you without warning. “You–“ he snapped his hips into yours, the tip of his dick reaching deep inside of you making you gasp out a silent moan at the intrusion. “Don’t get to tell me what to do Y/N.” He grunted aggressively, his hips not stopping their movement.

The sudden feeling of his dick inside of you, finally filling you up as you’ve been dreaming about it when you masturbated, his growl in your ears as well as his hands now anchored around your neck, squeezing it enough to cut your air supply. It was all too much, squirming under him, hips rising to meet his thrusts, you were almost there. The knot in your stomach tightened and you can’t help but beg for more as he fucked into you harder and harder. Skin slapping so hard it stung, it felt good against your tired tight muscles. With his hand tightly wrapped around your throat, his other one digging his fingers in your hips, keeping you in place, he pumped you full of his cock.

Feeling your inner walls clamp on him tight, he knew you were about to cum, and he debated making you wait some more. But when you arched your back off the mattress as far as you could, head rolled backwards as he touched a spot inside of you that made you see stars, he growled and picked up the pace. He was close to coming.

He placed his weight on top of you as he changed positions, lips near your ear as he mercilessly pounded you in the mattress. You felt his fingers reach to touch your sweaty abdomen trailing down to your clit pressing hard on it as he whispered, “so Y/N, how does it feel like to come as the mercy of a ghost?” You let go, the pleasure overtaking you so hard and fast you didn’t know where it started and when it ended, your skin burnt with electricity and you felt it all the way to the back of your head, the white dots behind your eyelids and the stream of tears running down your face accompanied your chant of his name.

“Ah, Seokjin I— coming.”

Seeing your eyes roll to the back of your head, tears streaming down your face, feeling you grip him like a vice he let go as well, impaling you one more time keeping you on your high as he spilled himself inside of you. As he kept coming, seemingly forever, filling you up, he felt cold, and his words rang in your head loud and clear. Ghost.

The thought didn’t terrify you, instead it made you pull at his energy trying to free your arms. Taking advantage of his distracted state you managed to pull yourself free, your arms grabbing his shoulders, legs wrapping around him keeping him to you and inside of you.

“Don’t leave please.” You whispered in the darkness of the bedroom but it was too late. He pulled himself out of you, anger raging in his eyes.

“Don’t you get it! I can’t leave! No matter how much I wanted to!” Gone was the gentleness in his voice.

You ignored the hurt you felt at his words, you didn’t know what you’d hoped. He was a vengeful ghost. Waiting to wreak havoc on your family. And yet you stupidly assumed that maybe you could help him. Suddenly remembering the book you found in the old study your eyes lightened. Maybe you could help him.

Not giving yourself time to rest, your legs shaking like jello, you got off the bed ignoring the slight twinge of pain that ran up your back.

“Seokjin, I think I found what you need.” You whispered in the empty room hoping that the man in question hadn’t disappeared once again.

“I need a lot of things pet, and all of them are to do with you.” Seokjin reappeared next to you, making you jump. “Now that our game’s over I need to find new ways to make you suffer.” He started, but you could see it in his eyes, there was a certain softness to them that was missing before.

“What if I told you I know how you can redeem your freedom?” You whispered, gathering all your courage to approach him. The fact that he was a ghost still unnerved you to some extent but the bridge had been long passed. Now you needed to help him, it was your turn. “What if–“ less than a foot away you carefully gauged his reaction. “What if I told you I can help?” Reaching out to him you touched his cheek, expecting your hand to pass right through it, but when you felt the cold smooth skin underneath your palm, you smiled.

Seokjin’s expressionless reaction made you pause. Heart thundering in your chest, you held your breath waiting for his response. Hope bloomed in your chest when, with the slightest turn of his head, he leaned into your touch. Your free hand grabbed onto his and you gently pulled him along with you.

“Come on, let me show you something.”

=====

Showing him your discovery, you were unprepared for the fit he was about to have – the broken furniture lying all around you, his curses still rang in your ears. You didn’t cower away this time, this time you stood your ground, you waited for his rage to pass, knowing it wasn’t misplaced. He was more than entitled to it, but he also needed to let it go. And you were willing to sacrifice your own freedom to offer him his.

When his rage subsided, you could still hear your ears ringing. With your eyes on him, you bent down to pick up the book.

“I will marry you, Jin.” You stated, not bothering to beat around the bush. Approaching him you offered him the book and your hand, wincing when he reeled away from you.

“You will what?” Despite the energy he expanded during his outburst his voice was still loud and clear, too loud for the silence that reigned the apartment.

“I will marry you.” You repeated, this time your tone of voice matching his. “I will offer you my hand, as the eldest daughter. This ought to free you right?” You argued now, standing toe to toe with him. His eyes locked on yours and for a second, you saw the small spark of hope flash through them. Your whole body relaxed, knowing that what you were about to do was the right thing.

“There is no need to be angry anymore, you can be free of it. However to do that –” Once again you offered him the spellbook an uncertain look in your eyes.

“–I may need your help.”

=====

You didn’t know what would happen once you said your vows to him, your heart screaming at you to not do it. As he took a step towards you, his gentle smile making your heart soar, you closed your eyes, smiling, waiting for his embrace. When all you felt was the soft brush of his lips against your forehead, trailing kisses down towards your lips, stopping to kiss each eyelid softly before gently taking over your mouth, your breathing stopped. The gesture only lasted for a second, fleeting, but worth a thousand words.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

For the first time since you met him he sounded at peace and you hummed in appreciation. You were definitely not expecting those to be the last words you heard from him, nor were you expecting him to vanish into thin air after. But once you reopened your eyes, ready to witness the peace settle over his features and impart your joy with him - you found nothing but the sight of your mirror taunting you with a reflection of him and you in it. Yet, when you glanced at your side he was nowhere to be seen.

“Seokjin?” You whispered, your heart constricting in your chest. You were not prepared to let him go, though you’d suspected that fulfilling the promise demanded a sacrifice. Despite a tumultuous start between the two of you, you were unwilling for it to reach the same ending without even trying.

Glancing at his smiling face in the mirror, the anger lines completely replaced by laughter, his hand held yours tightly in the reflection. You felt tears gather in your eyes when you squeezed your hand and all you felt was emptiness. Suddenly an idea popped into your head, if you could still see his reflection, maybe he was not completely gone from your world? Maybe there was still a chance that you could bring him back, show him what a happy life was meant to look like?

Starting towards the grimoire that started everything, you paused in your step, unsure of yourself. What if he did not want to come back? What if after all this time of being around the living he got tired, and he actually wanted to pass over? What if you were not good at the spell? With all these thoughts running through your head, you didn’t even notice when you grabbed the book, resting it on one forearm ready to flick through it for a spell. Pushing your doubts aside, you concentrated on the task at hand.

You had no idea what you were looking for, but you hoped that something in its pages may catch your attention. But, when minutes passed and nothing screamed ‘bring the dead back from the dead’, you yelled out in frustration. Almost throwing the book away, knowing that the more you waited the smaller were your chances of success, you crumpled to the ground with the book falling beside you.

You were ready to give up when something on the cover caught your eye, the symbol on your necklace. The symbol of the pact your ancestors made with him, still present on it, albeit faded. Grinning to yourself, you opened the book to the place where you knew the binding spell to be. Maybe if you took back your vows.

Reading the spell out loud, your voice shaking with emotion you ended with breaking the vow of binding yourself to him. The sound of the blood rushing through your ears made you feel dizzy. You hadn’t realised that you were holding your breath until you felt the burn in your chest from the lack of air. For a moment everything went still, so still you could hear your heart thrumming in your chest. When after a while nothing happened and the room stayed as empty as before, no coldness enveloping you, you felt despair suffocating you.

“Come on! Please.” You let the hot tears trail down your cheeks as your hands clenched into fists. “I take it all back! I don’t want to bind myself to you! Now come back!”

Minutes passed – minutes that to you felt like decades. And it may have been, you didn’t know how long you stood there, shoulders shaking under the weight of your sobs. Your chest felt constricted and it hurt to breathe. Never in a million years would you have thought you’d cry for a ghost whose anger caused you to go through sleepless nights. Yet, here you were, legs cramping and knees aching from having sat on the hardwood floor in the room. All the while your fingernails dug into the grimoire, chanting your pleas to anyone and anything – praying that your spell had worked. That somehow he’d be brought back to you.

“For one to be able to leave the other must forfeit.” You mumbled before your voice picked up in volume. “I don’t forfeit do you hear me? Isn’t that how it goes?! For one to be able to leave the other…”

“… the other must forfeit.” Your eyes snapped open at the familiar drawl. Head now turned towards the mirror, you gasped at the familiar smirk of the man standing beside it.

“Hello, pet.”

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

491 notes · View notes

jimilter · 2 years

Text

won’t you love me back? (m) | j.hs. | one-shot

🎵 jealous bone by patty loveless send them off! by bastille

pairing: hoseok x reader

rating: m (18+)

genre: horror | angst | smut | friends to questionable lovers!au

summary: Hoseok has always been envious of people that can catch your attention with the blink of an eye, while he has been trying to get you to look at him as something more than a friend, for years, and failing. So now, when you're suddenly getting a bit too close to this one student at your dance academy, so much so that you have given him Hoseok's place as your partner for your yearly dance performance, it should be justified why he has to take matters in his own hands.

warnings: DARK THEMES + manipulation + controlling behavior + obsession + yandere-esque hobi + oblivious reader + questions of consent in hobi’s daydreams + explicit sexual content (oral(f), rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected penetrative sex, forced creampie) + connotations to dub-con during sex + toxic friendship + toxic relationship + mentions of injuries + mentions of blood + implied violence + implied minor character death

word count: 7.6 k

note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!! 🎃

first and foremost, a disclaimer - this is entirely a piece of fiction. i, as a person, in no way support or justify the behavior exhibited by the characters in this story, nor do i seek to romanticize it. this is a disturbing story with disturbed people doing disturbing things. if you ever spot something similar happening to you or around you, please seek help because this is not how things should be. keeping that in mind: proceed with caution.

that being said, i enjoyed creating this dark af concept and hobi’s complicated state of mind a lot! maybe i’ll come back for a sequel where the reader stops being oblivious bec i have had a few ideas. hehe. damn, my first hobi fic and it’s the darkest shiz i have ever written!

well, i hope y’all suffer through a sleepless halloween night because of this~ 😈💜

↣ written for the Seven Deadly Sins collab hosted by @yutasgalaxy, @thebiasrekkers and @sugasbabiie! ↣ SIN: ENVY

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

Hoseok knows a great deal about your life, your interests, your likes and dislikes. The choices you tend to make. He is not a fan of some of them, but he is positive that he can get you to change them according to him, according to what he knows is good for you.

He masters the art of persuasion and prides himself over it.

Like the way he knows your favorite breakfast order and what bakery you prefer getting it from. He, instead, buys it from different locations everyday to condition your taste-buds into changing. He knows, and criticizes, your obsession with caffeine, and has been working towards making you switch to decafs instead. Just the way he has been trying to get you to consume less gluten by getting you sandwiches instead of your favorite cream bagels, whenever he can.

He knows you and knows what is better for you. And he cares enough to try to make you see it, too.

He also knows that you like to rehearse at the dance academy – the one that both of you have built up from the ground, straight out of college – at eight in the morning on your favorite song. Some day, he’ll get you to get used to dancing on his, but that isn’t his primary concern for now.

His grin is blinding when he makes his way towards the rehearsal hall he, again, knows you love. This one has no complaints. He loves this rehearsal hall, too. It has mirrors on three of the walls, always providing him with an unobstructed view of you, no matter where he chooses to sit during your choreography making sessions.

God, he knows so much about you. He guesses you must know quite a number of facts about him, too, being as thoughtful as you are. It’s a pity you don’t know the biggest one, though. How madly in love with you he is.

He will get you to see that someday, too, he is certain. And you won’t refuse him when he asks you out on a date. He will make sure of it.

Due to his cheerful disposition, he is wholly unprepared for the piercing arrow that shoots straight through his heart at the sight that greets him in the wall-length rehearsal hall mirror when he steps through the door.

You, in all your gorgeous glory, dressed in yoga pants and a tank, laughing with your head thrown back – and a guy standing way too close to you, holding you by the waist with his slimy hands.

Not even a guy. No.

This isn’t just some student at the academy.

This is Caleb – a gifted dancer who has been in your sights since he entered this place, a year ago. One whom you cannot stop complimenting even in his absence. One who has been trying to get closer to you ever since you, in your innocent, friendly naivete told the guy you have an affinity for contemporary – Caleb’s fucking field of expertise.

What makes matters worse is the ending notes of his favorite warm-up song he can hear echoing through the speakers. So you were practizing on his favorite song with the guy he hates the most? Now, why the hell would you do that?

Hoseok’s blood boils at your too amicable to be friendly interactions unfolding before his eyes, catalyzed by the fact that you are so lost in your conversation with this dickwad that you haven’t even noticed him standing at the gates for more than a minute.

Well. With a shout of your name, he changed that fact.

Your eyes light up on meeting his and Hoseok takes immense comfort in that. More so in the way Caleb’s shoulders stiffen and smile freezes on his face.

“Hobi!” You greet him with a jovial wave. “I was just about to call you!”

Hoseok tosses a covert glare at the other guy in the room before flashing you the sweetest smile he can muster. “Aw, you were? Well, here I am!”

Your giggle trickles like honey in his chest, and he wants nothing more than to grab you by your neck and attack your mouth with his – right before this asshole who thought it was fucking alright to touch your body as if he has any fucking right over you.

One of these days, Hoseok will fuck you raw against these very mirrors and make your entire dance academy watch so that they fucking know who has the actual claim on you, whether you want it or not. Like. Of course he’ll seek your consent, he’s not an animal. He’ll ask for it, coax it out of you, he has his ways and he’s confident in them because he knows you inside out, that isn’t even a concern.

He knows you’ll want him when he wants you to want him. But he also has to ensure that you don’t want anyone else when he doesn’t want you to want them.

But maybe this is just his jealousy speaking. He’ll get it under control, like he always does.

“Caleb, meet Hoseok. He’s—”

“The hip-hop instructor,” Caleb finishes, meeting Hoseok’s eyes fiercely.

God, the way he wants to gouge those green orbs out. Forcing a professional smile on his face, Hoseok forwards a hand to shake instead. “Yeah. And also second in command here.”

“Caleb. Specializing in contemporary.”

As if Hoseok doesn’t know that. As if he hasn’t been watching the guy and the subtle moves he has been trying to make on you ever since he entered the academy.

“Hobi, I have selected Caleb to perform with me for the presentation.”

The packet of chicken sandwich and French vanilla decaf in his hands falls to the floor.

He cannot have heard you right.

No.

“What?” he brokenly asks, trying his damndest to keep his expressions free of the unadulterated fury that sears through him. He forces himself to laugh when he notices your stricken gaze switching between his face and the heap of food on the floor. “Him? Really? He’s been here for, what? A year?”

“Ten months, but I have been dancing for seven years. I won’t disappoint.”

Hoseok very slowly turns his flat stare to Caleb, anger shooting off the fucking roof when he finds the guy giving him a triumphant smirk.

“Oh, have you? Interesting to know. Now, if you’ll excuse us?”

You stay wordless when Caleb looks at you for approval, and he takes that as his cue to leave. You stay quiet, still staring at the packet that Hoseok dropped, even when Caleb departs from the rehearsal hall with worried glances tossed at you.

Hoseok immediately crowds you when you two are alone.

“You’re performing with him? Really? But we do the showcase together every year!” he stages a whine, knowing he has better chances to get to you by acting cute than he does being hard-headed.

You seem to snap out of your thoughts at his words, shaking your head with a sigh. “We do, but you told me you had to attend that workshop at your friend’s college, remember?”

Fuck, he forgot. He waves a hand as if to physically dismiss it. “It’s nothing big. The showcase slipped my mind while—”

“Hey, no,” you interrupt him, stepping closer to peer up into his eyes with such a soft, sweet expression that it takes everything in him to hold back from kissing you. “It’s a locking workshop and hip-hop is literally your passion.”

No, you are his passion. “Workshops keep happening all the time, but the showcase—”

“Literally happens every year, Hobi,” you cut him off, aghast. “It is just a little performance to attract more students, anyway! Your workshop can get you tickets to bigger avenues abroad.”

Oh, you have it so wrong.

Hoseok curses the moment he picked up Jimin’s phone on speaker and was coaxed into signing up for the stupid workshop when you heard the entire conversation. He has been shitting his pants at the thought of having you out of his sight while he goes to attend that damned workshop that runs for two days. You really don’t have a clue about what you mean to him if you think he’s looking forward to an opportunity to go abroad.

“Caleb and I will—”

“Why him?” He scowls. “I’ll get you a good student from my class and—”

“Because we’re doing contemporary this time,” you interrupt him with crossed arms.

That stumps him. Like, of course, he can do it with you because he can do every dance form. But he doesn't think he can compete with a student you have trained in the art. And with the showcase only ten days away, you certainly won’t agree to train Hoseok unless the circumstances are dire.

His eyebrows slowly relax, shoulders falling from their hunch as it hits him.

Dire circumstances.

Well, that can be arranged.

You have been waiting a whole hour before Caleb decides to show up, face almost completely hidden behind his mask, hat and glasses.

“Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence, your highness,” you taunt him, moving to warm up again because your warm-up from an hour ago wore off when you got busy with your phone.

Caleb stays quiet, which strikes you as odd, because the guy always has something to say about every damn thing.

“Caleb?”

He keeps facing away from you while he takes off his hat, glasses and mask. “Hey. Good morning, boss.”

You roll your eyes at his nickname for you. “Don’t get cheeky with me today, I'm mad at you. Why are you an hour late?”

Caleb’s movements stop. And then he turns around.

You gasp. “What the heck? What happened to your nose?”

His bandaged nose has grown to double its size, looking horrendous on his otherwise pretty symmetric face.

He shrugs in response to your question. “Shit happens.”

“Wh—Caleb? What is that supposed to mean?” You stop stretching and walk up to him, a furious frown on your face. “Did you get into a fight?”

“It’s nothing, boss. Let’s just get started.”

You brace your hands on your waist. “Are you kidding me?”

“Believe it or not, I can still dance with a broken nose.”

It is a smile you see on his face, you’re guessing, but you can’t be sure when half his expressions are covered by the haphazard bandages he has taped over the center of his face.

"Caleb—"

"Boss, I'm okay. Completely fine. This is just a tiny, little incident that I don't wanna tell you about because I'm embarrassed." He opens his eyes big and wide. "Please trust me?"

He's being persistent, and honestly? He's not a kid, you're not his guardian. You sigh, conceding.

“Fine, but you have to go to the hospital and get a proper dressing done to this later, okay?”

He gives a nod, immediately breaking into warm-up exercises.

When you move to relax into your own stretches, your eyes wander to the door to the rehearsal hall. Somehow, somewhere, you feel guilty for blowing Hoseok off the way you did yesterday, even if you did it for his own good. You two really have always performed in the showcase together and you are breaking tradition. But you have to keep in mind that this academy isn't Hoseok's first priority the way it is yours. The workshop he has signed up for will help him with his career of professional dancing.

Besides, you've always put forth hip-hop performances in all your previous showcases, so you also saw this as an opportunity to promote your own dance form. But you would've done it again if it wasn't for that workshop, because even you don't feel so good about performing for your academy without Hoseok by your side.

You sigh, feeling tired by your confused feelings. You shouldn’t be surprised, though, because it’s always been like this with Hoseok. He keeps up with you, challenges you, supports you – a wonderful best friend. And maybe… even something more?

Hoseok is a handsome guy. A perfect friend. The most amazing dancer you’ve ever met. Not to mention all those amazing muscles he keeps hidden under his baggy clothes that you only came to know about when you accidentally walked in on him training shirtless. Ugh, you still shiver at the memory of that sight.

Your cheeks flame up at your thoughts, which you're quick to shut down.

So given the amazing guy he is, is it that shocking you have a crush on him? Crushes among friends are common, right? What does it matter if you like him, or do an r-rated version of liking him? No harm done as long as you keep it in check and don’t tell him. You value him too much to unnecessarily risk your bond for infatuation that may eventually fade.

"Alright!" You clap your hands and get into position next to Caleb. "Let's take it from the top without music first…"

Hoseok wonders if you suspect his recent behavior. Or if you have noticed any change at all, because you can be blindly oblivious like that at times.

It's been three days since he found Caleb in the rehearsal hall with you, and he hasn't returned there since. He has broken his tradition of getting you breakfast every morning in hopes of getting the message of him being upset across to you.

Not that he's actually upset – there's no reason for him to be when he knows he controls how things happen in his life. Yours too, on some level.

But you don't know that. And so, it is important to him that you notice his off behavior.

Your text message beeps on his phone harmlessly, when he's still sorting these thoughts out, seated in the academy's cafeteria – but the contents make his heart stutter in a very harmful way.

hobi i miss u :(( can i come over for coffee?

What sort of a question is even that?

No sooner has he responded in affirmative than you are sending him multiple kiss emoticons back.

Sometimes the way you show him affection has him pondering if there might be more than just platonic affection behind it from your end.

Hoseok is pretty sure he's getting ahead of himself, but he also can't help wondering if he can coerce you into something more… intimate than a coffee with a friend by being all pouty and angry when you come over, today. He knows his cute acts always get to you.

Because he needs to make a bold statement to Caleb to get him away from you, and what better than becoming something more than a friend to you? Good for the situation at hand and good for his personal goals.

He grins.

You're jittery, and for no sane reason you can explain if asked, while stepping into Hoseok’s house with his spare key. You have been here more times than you can keep track of, you cannot figure out what’s making you so fidgety, today.

Maybe it’s the knowledge that you’ve upset him, or it could be the way you miss him, or it might be attributed to the almost romantic setup he has laid out for the two of you on his coffee table, with two mugs, a small lamp and couch cushions on the table’s opposite sides on the floor. Or maybe, the reason is actually that one nameless feeling that makes you blush in the presence of your best friend suddenly rearing its head.

But the fact remains that you’re nervous by the time Hoseok makes an appearance from the kitchen. It doesn’t help in the least that he has chosen to suddenly bleach all his hair in the three days you haven’t seen him. He has left his edges his natural black, and the intersection actually gives off a bluish shade which matches with the sleeveless jean jacket he has on. You lose a bit of your mind.

You gape at the guy as he walks up to you with a call of your name and draws you in a hug, filling your lungs up with bursts of citrus that is his scent.

When he pulls back, the sly smile on his face tells you he knows what effect this sudden change in his looks has on you. Well, it’d be impossible for him not to do – it’s been close to a minute and your mouth is yet to close.

“Hello, there,” he teases you, and you shut your mouth with a clack.

“Your… hair…” you stutter, still looking at the gorgeous tresses in wide-eyed wonder.

“Oh, you like ’em?” Hoseok runs a self-conscious hand through them, and as they lift off his forehead to display his beautiful eyebrows, your heart trips a couple of beats. “I was going for full platinum, but then I thought about experimenting.”

Has his smile always been this handsome? This… mysterious? You swallow, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, yes – it looks amazing!”

“Thank you!” He grins brightly at you, eyes pushed to crescents and perfect teeth out. “I would’ve dyed them again if you didn’t like them,” he adds with a pout, and you giggle.

“It looks great.” Your nervousness has hiked, palms now sweating a bit. “This – this all is cute,” you mumble with a gesture to the made-up coffee table. “But you didn’t have to.”

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up. I know you’re still worrying if you’ve upset me by choosing to perform with Caleb. I wanted to reassure you that you’ve not.”

You cannot believe how well he knows you. Something eases in your chest at his warm smile, and this sudden urge to press your lips against his rises up in you. You push it down quickly, though, clearing your throat to look away from his soft gaze that confuses you with its intensity the longer you stare.

Clearing your throat, you settle into your assigned seat on the floor, peering into the mug kept before you.

"Earl Grey latte. No caffeine for you."

You look at Hoseok in surprise, biting your lip to hide a smile. How did you get so lucky to have someone this caring looking out for you the way he does?

You both sip at your drinks in silence – but for some reason it doesn't feel like the usual calm and comfortable kind that you are used to being in around Hoseok. This, right here, feels charged.

Expectant.

You breathe out, deciding to release a bit of the tension from the air.

"Are we… okay?"

The startle with which Hoseok looks at you has your shoulders relaxing because now you're certain he isn't mad at you.

"Why wouldn't we be?"

You smile, reaching forward with a hand to pat his cheek. "I'm glad. You didn't come over with breakfast these past few days, and I… I was afraid I'd hurt you deeply."

Hoseok sighs with an endeared smile on his face. "You could never hurt me deeply enough for me to stay away from you. You're stuck with me. For life."

The seriousness on his face makes you giggle, heart doing somersaults in your chest. If only this idiot knew how much you'd like to be stuck with him for life.

"Honored to be," you respond, pulling a serious expression on your face to complement his, only barely containing your laughter when he narrows his eyes at you.

"Don't say such things in mock seriousness. I might hold you to them," he attempts to threaten with what most definitely feels like a dream to you.

Your cheeks are flaming hot, which you try to conceal by bringing the mug of your tea latte up to your lips. You meet Hoseok's playful eyes over its rim, chuckling when he squints them in warning again.

"I missed you so much," you confess with a forlorn sigh.

Hoseok nods, looking down at his drink with a sad smile. "I missed you, too, and I wanted to come see you, but…"

"But?" You lean in, curious.

He looks up with a pained gaze. "That Caleb guy acts way too friendly around you. And he’s been there every day."

Goosebumps break over the back of your neck at the implication of his envious tone. You swallow.

"I… I don't know what you mean by 'too friendly' but we are friends," you explain. "So he acts friendly."

"I don't think it's all he wants to be, though," Hoseok's direct words are accompanied by a derisive twist of his lips and you freeze.

The blatant jealousy he eludes thrills you beyond explanation. Is this about what you think it is about?

You don't want to be too optimistic, but your breath catches.

"And… does he have a reason not to want that, Hobi?"

Hoseok’s jealousy boils over – his brain is ready to catch on fire with how furious he feels.

Because how dare you ask him that when you so obviously belong to him? Is he a joke to you? Is fucking Caleb worth what he isn’t?

In hindsight, Hoseok does feel like he’s missing something here, but his immediate, instinctive anger is so piping hot that all rational thoughts are wiped clean off his mind.

You have been his since the day he met you in college. Since the day you covered him for lunch when he was short a few cents in the cafeteria. You with your sweet smiles and open, soft heart were a literal invitation to the whole world to hurt you, he saw it right then. Hoseok was immediately overcome with this protective instinct to shield you from all the hurt you could encounter. And he has stood with it.

No one, nothing, will get to you without his approval. And he does not fucking approve Caleb.

He decides to, then and there, stake his claim on you and finish off this confusion in your mind for once and for all.

“I think,” he tells you, watching how your eyes widen with his unintentionally lowered voice, “he does. A big fucking reason not to.”

Hoseok leans over the table, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to yank your shocked self to him, sealing his lips over yours in a firm kiss.

Euphoria and contentment surge through his body at the contact, as if a long awaited dream of his has just come true. And in a way, it has. Because while he has always believed you to be his, an actual physical act to cement that belief is so much more gratifying.

Your rigid lips go pliant in a second, molding against his with a breathless huff, and Hoseok’s heart floats up to the sky.

You are responding. He doesn’t have to convince you at all.

This day couldn’t have gone better.

You are close to hyperventilating when Hoseok literally pulls you across the table to him, grunting his efforts into the kiss. Your legs cross over his side-ways, breasts crushed against his solid frame. You don’t know what to hold onto, where to touch him, so overwhelmed with the taste and feel of him.

A part of you is still confused about what is happening – if it actually is happening, or if you’re stuck in a very realistic fever dream.

But then Hoseok deepens the kiss with a bite to your lower lip, easing all your doubts and filling your mind with nothing but the thoughts of him and him alone. You moan against him, palms spanning across his rock solid arms, brushing the frayed edge of his jean jacket.

He pulls away at your action, leaning to look at you through hooded eyes. There’s this crazed look in his gaze that has you creaming your pants and pressing closer to him for another kiss, but he holds you apart from him.

“Just so there's no confusion,” comes his rasp, “I’m in love with you.”

Heartbeat gallops in your chest, your little, blood pumping organ leaving its post to travel through your veins.

“You don’t have to tell me you love me too, but—”

“I think… I might, though…”

Arms slide over your waist, bringing you to straddle him with your thighs framing his. “What?”

His breath mingles with yours, dark gaze scanning your face.

You steal a kiss from his lips. “I might be in love with you, t—ah!”

Wet lips latch onto your neck, sucking a bruise, while hurried hands work on your shirt to get it off your body along with your bra. Sitting topless in Hoseok’s lap with the dark edges of his platinum hair ticking your jaw when he covers your chest with kisses, you have never been more turned on in your life. His hands run all over your body, the desperation in his grip echoed by the press of your hips against his.

“Hobi… please…”

Palms grip at your tits, squeezing them firmly until you shriek in pain-blended pleasure, and then his teeth rake a path from the valley of your breasts down your stomach. Hoseok’s fingers are nimble on the button of your jeans and his grip firm when the garment is tugged off you along with your underwear.

Your soaked center is spread with two fingers, Hoseok leaving you barely any time before licking a strip right up your cunt. Wetness rushes out of you at the sizzling contact, your body twisting up to chase his mouth when he pulls back.

His fringe of white and blue hair hanging over dark, shadowed eyes paired with the almost sinister smirk he tosses at you makes your toes curl.

“Please, baby…”

He laughs, pulling you closer to himself. “Baby, huh?”

You bite your lip, watching him move to unbutton his jacket. That he apparently isn’t wearing anything beneath. Fuck.

His muscled torso has you actually fidgeting with the need to touch him. You reach with a hand, fingertips dancing down his abs.

“Yes. Baby,” you say in response to his earlier remark. “Don’t like it?”

His eyes glaze over and mouth drops to plant a kiss below your belly-button. “No. Love it.”

And then his lips slide down to press against your entrance.

Hoseok feasts on your core, losing his mind at the insanely addictive taste of you. He’s dreamt of and fantasized this moment innumerable times – been doing it every single day since the day he met you, actually.

His fingers reach into you, curving into your warmth in tandem with your combined groans. Almost wishing he could document this moment, Hoseok watches your scrunched up face go through different turns with every little movement he makes.

You really drive him insane.

Denying you the pleasure you so desperately seek, he instead undresses the rest of the way through, pumping his rock hard length twice before sliding through your velvety walls in a rough stroke.

“Fuck!” you scream, both hands grabbing his biceps, eyes shut.

He lifts your waist up as he gets to his knees, driving you over his cock, wildly. Your tits bounce in time with the motion, making his stomach curl up with heat.

“You’re gonna make me fuck up sooner than I want to, baby,” he grumbles to you, pushing you back to the floor to lean over you.

Meeting your eyes, he heaves both your feet over his shoulders, shushing your protests of cramping legs.

“It’ll feel so good, you’ll forget you even have legs.”

You huff out a laugh at his words, letting him pound into you so hard your body vibrates with his moves. He grunts with every collision of his head against your sensitive spot, unable to believe how sex can feel so good.

Maybe because this isn’t just sex – this is sealing of his ownership of you. Now you know you belong to him. Now he’d have less to worry about.

“Hobi! Baby! S–slow down—”

“No,” he huffs, placing a palm over your mouth, smirking when your eyes widen in panic. “You don’t know what you can take, I do. Stop complaining… take it…”

He’s going to make you take it, anyway, but it helps when your eyes roll back in pleasure again, forehead twisting in what he can tell is an impending orgasm.

He removes his hand to brace it next to your head, covering your body fully, doubling you in half as he lifts himself to his knees again. His other hand goes to flick your clit, making your possible protests die on your lips and be replaced with a long moan of his name.

“Yeah? You like that? Gonna come soon?”

You give him a nod, noisy whines leaving you with every thrust.

“Good,” he pants. “Be a good girl and come, baby. Come on my cock, let me feel you…”

Your sounds pause and the shuddering breaths you were taking stop for a second, too, just when he feels your walls grip him tightly. You come with another moan of his name, quivering in his arms, your cunt pulsating around his cock.

His own climax is triggered by yours, and with two more strokes later, he explodes inside you – painting your walls with his release. A sated groan leaves him, head falling into your neck.

From a far off distance, your protests of ‘not inside’ reach him, but he ignores them, slotting his hips more firmly against yours to keep it all in you. Because one, if he’s already a few drops in, he might as well empty himself fully. And two, he has every right to fill you up with his seed, whether you realize it or not.

Spent and sweaty, he lets your legs return to their original position and turns to one side to let you cuddle into his chest. You are a little stiff in his embrace. You two lay in silence for a couple seconds and then you clear your throat.

“You, uh… you came inside me, Hobi,” you remind him, thinking he did that accidentally, and frown at him when he peers down at you. “I told you not to.”

“You’re too fucking hot, babe,” he breathes, letting his lips fall into a pout, “I tried to pull out, but…” He brushes a hand over your puffy pussy lips, laughing when you jump with a yelp. “But this cunt is so fucking warm and cozy, I just couldn’t…”

You stare at him in incredulity. And then you laugh, cheeks turning red. “Oh God, I can’t believe you’re the same person I’ve been friends with all these years.”

He frowns, affronted. “What do you mean by that?”

You roll your eyes, sliding closer to rest your chin on his chest. “Didn’t know you’d be so darn kinky.”

Kinky? You think he was being… kinky?

Oh, well. You’ll find out, sooner or later.

Smirking, he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Only for you.”

“Well,” you hum, “it better stay that way. You’re my boyfriend now.”

He bites his lower lip, heart running fucking laps around his body at your proclamation.

“And you’re my girlfriend. Which,” he gravely emphasizes, “better stay that way.”

“Always.”

Yep. Always is right. He smiles and pulls you closer to him.

You have a very obvious – and understandable – skip in your steps when you enter the rehearsal hall, the next morning. You from yesterday morning could never have known things would change so quickly, so drastically and so beautifully between you and your best friend.

He’s your boyfriend now.

Giggling to yourself, you cover your mouth with a hand as you drop into your stretches. The development will take some time to settle with you, apparently. Even if Hoseok drives the two of you to the academy everyday. You wonder how long it’ll take for your coworkers to take notice.

“Mornin’, boss.”

With a cheesy grin, you wave Caleb hello through the mirror, only to freeze when your eyes land on him.

He looks, for the lack of a better word, traumatized. His eyes are wide and rimmed with red, barely any color in his skin. He stares at you through a fearful, shaky gaze.

You immediately straighten in a standing position and approach him on hurried legs. “Caleb? Are you okay?”

He bites his lip, looking around in such a terrified manner, it makes you wonder if he’s trying to hide from someone.

“What—”

You’re interrupted when a harsh ‘hush’ from the guy. While you’re still blinking in surprise, he grabs you by your upper arm and pulls you to a corner of the room.

He says your name in a pressed, rushed voice, followed by a harried request of, “I need to tell you something. Can I talk to you for a second?”

Eyes wild and a little red-rimmed, now that you are looking at him up-close, he looks like he hasn’t slept a blink last night. Or for many nights, given the greyish tone of his under-eye skin that peeks from above the bandage on the wound on his nose that is yet to heal.

“Of course, yeah, what is it? What's going on, are you okay?”

A very deep exhale deflates his chest. Did he fear you would refuse?

“Look, boss, you have to trust me on this… I know what I’m talking about, okay?” Caleb’s voice keeps dropping in volume to the point where he’s whispering words to you. “Hoseok… Hobi? The – the hip-hop instructor that keeps sauntering around you all the time?”

Wait, what? Hobi? Keeps sauntering around you? Since when?

With a furious frown, you make to admonish Caleb for his disrespectful choice of words, when he holds both his hands up to pause you.

“That guy… please stay away from him, okay?” Caleb blurts out, making you physically rear back in shocked outrage.

“What?”

“Yes! He – he isn’t who he pretends to be,” Caleb keeps stuttering, gaze now manic, “he’s dangerous, and honestly? Poking his nose way more into your life than he should—”

“Caleb!” you snap, shutting the guy up with a sharp slate. “Watch your words.”

Something like despair crosses his face. “Oh, God… you don’t believe me, do you? He’s literally obsessed with you! No coworker or friend has any business knowing the things—”

“For God’s sake, shut up!” you interrupt with your voice turning shrilly in anger.

Your head pounds, irritation flowing through your veins and clotting up there.

“Hobi is – he isn’t just a coworker or a friend to me, Caleb,” you try to keep your voice as calm as you can, but it still comes out icy and with underlying tremors of fury. “I’ve known him since my college days. He's been my best friend since my college days.”

The way Caleb turns white tells you he was unaware of the fact. Figures. You shake your head, disgusted and still somewhat confused about this entire conversation.

“I’d suggest you to not say shit about stuff you don’t know,” you tightly warn the guy, dismissing his opening mouth with a wave of your hand. “Please. Spare me your explanations.”

You move away from him to collect your backpack from the corner of the hall and walk towards the door.

“By the way,” you toss over your shoulder, “he’s my boyfriend now.”

Caleb’s jaw meets the floor. “What?”

“Yeah.” You frown at how gaunt he looks. “Go home, Caleb, you don’t look too well. Try to get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

It is disheartening how a day that began so beautifully has taken such a turn, souring your mood so soon. It’s not even nine in the morning, yet.

You look at your phone where Hoseok’s last message of a kiss emoticon is displayed on your lock screen. You smile. Maybe your boyfriend will help cheer you up – he has always been a great mood lifter to you as a friend, and now that you know how darn amazing he is in bed, you really just want to grab him for a quickie.

With a devious grin, you skip down the hallways to the dance hall you know Hoseok uses.

You don’t see Caleb the next day, you do receive his text saying he has suffered an injury, though.

Worried and in slight disbelief, you ring up Caleb’s roommate whose number he has put down in the employees’ registry as an emergency contact.

What you hear from the other side, though, has you stumbling against the rehearsal hall mirror.

“What?”

“Yeah, he broke his leg.”

Your mouth hangs open as you listen to the words repeated to you. “H–how? He was fine yesterday morning…”

“I don’t really know, to be honest. He won’t say anything. It happened on his way back from the rehearsal hall. Maybe it was a hit and run accident, or something?”

“Maybe,” you mumble, horrified and dumbstruck.

And that is how Hoseok finds you, minutes later, when he bounds into the rehearsal hall being his usual preppy self. His face falls into an expression of grave worry when he meets your eyes.

Cupping your face in his palms, he leans in to look at you. “Baby? What the hell happened, why do you look so scared?”

“Caleb… he – he broke his leg, Hobi,” you tell your boyfriend in a whispered murmur, causing his eyes to widen in shock.

“What? How?”

You collapse into his arms with a troubled sigh. “No idea. His roommate said it was probably a road accident, but Caleb hasn’t told him anything. I wonder why…”

“Yeah, wonder why,” Hoseok parrots, his tone deeper than yours.

You pull back to look at him. “As worried as I am about him, Hobi… the showcase is in a week. What do I do?”

Hoseok’s creased forehead straightens out. “We’ll sort it out together, don’t worry about it.”

You hug him again, pressing your nose to his citrusy smelling shirt. “I don’t want you to miss those workshops."

"Hey," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your head. "This academy is our collective dream. It'll always come first. You'll always come first."

Your heart – you yourself melt a little.

Smiling over the sadness and still a bit of skepticism you feel about Caleb’s injury, you pull back to look at Hoseok. “Thank you for saying that. But also, I’m not gonna compromise with the choreography I’ve already planned. Prepare to learn some contemporary.”

Hoseok’s soft eyes flash with discomfort for a moment, before he gives up with a sigh. “Fine. Show me.”

You grin brightly, leaning up to peck his lips.

“Should we go see Caleb later today?”

“Today?” Hoseok mumbles with a confused frown. “Are you sure? I think he’s dealing with some stuff if he hasn’t even told his roommate about how he got hurt. Let’s give it some time. I don’t want you to get into any trouble.”

You blink. Yeah, Caleb can most definitely get you in trouble if he’s involved in some crime and you’re found to be meeting with him so soon after his injury. You hadn’t even thought of that.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you ponder, nodding at Hoseok’s words. “Let’s wait.”

“Hey, don’t worry so much, okay? Relax. I love you, you know that, right?”

Hoseok’s wide, puppy eyes look at you with worry, making your own water at the affection in them.

“I love you, too, baby. Thank you for being so kind and understanding.”

“I’d be whatever is good for you, baby. Always.”

He smiles at you, and your heart clenches in your chest.

What a perfect, perfect guy.

You are exiting the rehearsal hall, the next morning, with an exhausted, sweaty and delicious looking Hoseok by your side when the two of you bump into Caleb. The guy looks worse for wear, face haggard, hair unkempt, eyes sunken in, as he hobbles over to you two on crutches when he spots you, a cast over one of his legs.

You are pained at the sight. A dancer’s legs are his everything. You don’t know if the injuries he has sustained would ever let him dance again, and the mere thought that they might be too severe makes your heart flood with sympathy for Caleb. He is a gifted dancer, he could grow into a performer of one of his kind under your tutelage. If he cannot dance again, it’ll be a great loss for your dance form.

While you stare at Caleb, Hoseok has been looking at you, closely. You raise your eyebrows in question at his expressions of concentration. He instantly smiles.

“Nothing. Just wondering what has you looking so worried and sad.”

You sigh, gesturing towards Caleb. “Him. This is so bad, Hobi. What if he cannot dance again?”

Hoseok’s face washes with an unreadable expression for a second before he looks just as worried as you feel, shaking his head in sympathy. “I hope that doesn’t happen to her, babe.”

And then something happens that makes you scream in surprise.

As soon as he is in a close enough range, Caleb leaps at Hoseok with both his hands, grabbing onto your boyfriend’s throat and knocking him down.

“What the—” Hoseok falls with a muffled shout, and you jump into action, grabbing Caleb’s shoulder from behind.

“What are you doing, Caleb? Get the hell off of him!”

The guy doesn’t listen, though, focused on strangling your boyfriend with both his hands. Hoseok sputters, coughing, eyes rolling back.

“Oh, my God, what the hell is wrong with you?” you yell in Caleb’s face, finally getting to him.

Wild eyes meet yours, a snarl on his lips. “How does it never occur to you how things keep conveniently happening around him, huh?”

You stare. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“This guy is crazy, how the fuck do you not see it? He broke my nose, then broke my leg just so he could keep me away from you! Now I have to kill him before he kills m—”

“Have you lost your mind? What kind of medication have you been put on?” you scream, beyond outraged. “Stop speaking bullshit and go home because you’re obviously not in the right state of mind, Caleb!”

Caleb scoffs loudly, grip on Hoseok’s neck tightening. People have started to gather around the three of you but no one is daring to step close to the obviously disturbed looking guy.

“He has you so fooled! He’s a manipulative bastard that just wants to use you like his little puppet! Stop being so fucking oblivious and realize what the fuck is up with him!”

You are left stunned. Medication or not, no one can say such bullshit about Hoseok in his own working environment and get away with it.

You see red.

Walking to Caleb’s other side, you grab him by his collar and smack a tight slap across his cheek. “How dare you?”

He stumbles away from Hoseok with the action, allowing your boyfriend room to breathe and sit up. Hoseok does so hurriedly, getting up on his knees and hugging you close to him.

“Hey, hey, I’m okay, don’t worry, don’t cry.”

You don’t even realize you are until he is wiping your tears away. Planting a quick kiss to your forehead, Hoseok stands and pulls you up with him.

“He’s obviously not in his right mind. His jealousy is coming out in all the wrong ways.”

You nod, sniffling as you trace the fingerprints imprinted on your boyfriend’s neck.

“Now let me talk to him, we need to get this sorted out.”

“What? Are you crazy? No! He just made a life-threatening attack on you—”

“I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine,” Hosok reassures you, holding onto both of your shoulders. “He has calmed down now. Let me go drop him home, he needs to rest.”

You turn to look at the guy sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. You sigh. “That he does.”

“Yeah, so don’t worry. It’ll be fine. I’ll be back in a while, okay?”

“No, no, you go home afterwards and rest.” You worriedly shake your head. “I’ll come to yours when I’m done with today’s classes. Day off for you.”

Hoseok gives an adoring smile, pulling you in a soft kiss.

“I love you,” you tell him, hugging him close.

“I love you, too. More than you can ever imagine, baby.”

With that, Hoseok accompanies a reluctant Caleb out of the academy.

Hoseok jumps when the doorbell rings, looking at the clock.

He just barely made it in time. Five more minutes, and things would have gone wrong.

Clearing his throat, he pulls on a bright smile and moves to open the door to his house for you.

You wave at him, shyly, presenting a small pack of sweets. “I got you some candies.”

He giggles, accepting you between his waiting arms. “What am I, a toddler?”

“Well you are my baby.”

God, you’re so fucking cheesy. And so fucking his. Only fucking his.

You both fall into the couch, laughing and giggling and in love. And as Hoseok tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, he subtly nudges the baseball bat under the furniture to better conceal it.

The baseball bat he had to hide quickly because you finished up at the academy early. The baseball bat he had to use as last resort, actually, because you didn’t give him enough time to use the butcher’s knife he’d saved for the occasion.

The baseball bat with Caleb’s blood on it, because he gave Hoseok no other choice.

“Yes, I am. I am yours and you are mine, baby. Forever.”

taglist: @shrimpmsg @codeinebelle @afangirllikeme-blog @duchesskaren @opaljm @ressjeon

414 notes · View notes

hobivore · 3 years

Text

Lace

↠ PAIRING: KTH x reader (f)

↠ WORDS: 8K

↠ GENRE: smut, fluff, established relationship

↠ RATING: explicit (18+)

↠ SYNOPSIS: Taehyung likes to colour outside the lines and you are more than happy to provide him with a canvas. This time, he has prepared a surprise for your three year anniversary: what better way to celebrate than with leather and lace?

↠ WARNINGS: pwp, sub!Taehyung, dom!Reader, Tae in heels + lingerie and red lipstick and a suit because have you seen this man? (click here for the outfit inspo moodboard), exhibitionism, public masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), eat. that. ass (m receiving), spanking, pegging, this is basically an ode to the taebooty, finger sucking, edging, praise, dirty talk, mild degradation, marking, Tae’s a good boy, aftercare, anniversary celebration so things get fluffy too

↠ A/N: This fic is part of the Pretty Boys Collab. Many thanks to the lovely @btsaudge and @kingsuckjin for coming up with this wonderful idea and letting me be a part of this! And to @hesperantha, @megahwn, @thebiasrekkers and @ddaengyoonmin for the fun, the brainstorming, the support, the sprints and your wonderful stories.

And last but not least, a shout-out to my beta-readers @hobi-gif and @calixwrites for their help. You guys are the best!

“Do you think you could live here?”

Taehyung’s voice pulls you out of your drowsy haze and you crack one eye open, letting your gaze drift over the cityscape.

You’re surrounded by reddish-brown brick houses with wooden shutters, most of them closed to keep out the relentless summer heat. A small canal runs along the street and a handful of boats navigate the water at a lazy pace. The passengers take pictures of the swans, the birds seemingly unbothered by the attention, and you chuckle when a man nearly falls overboard in a bold but foolish attempt to pet one.

Your legs are dangling from the quay wall, heels tapping softly against the stone. The city is beautiful in a warm and intimate way—so different from what you’re used to calling home.

“Don’t know. Maybe?” You turn towards Taehyung. “What about you?”

Squinting against the harsh sunlight you try to focus on his side profile, mentally chastising yourself for forgetting to bring your sunglasses at the height of summer.

In your defence, this entire trip had been a surprise and you barely had the time to pack anything before Taehyung dragged you to the airport and practically shoved you onto a plane to god-knows-where.

It turns out god-knows-where lies in Belgium. And it’s called Bruges.

“I could live anywhere you are.” He smiles at you fondly, nudging your leg with his.

“Ugh.” You pull a face and give him a playful slap on the shoulder. “I should get you one of those letter boards from Etsy so you can enshrine your sappy quotes.”

He shrugs. “The architecture is great and I like French.”

“We’re in Flanders. They speak Dutch here.”

“Fine. But most people here speak French too.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “As if you speak French.”

He grins, straightening his back and spreading his arms. A deep inhale gives you a brief moment to prepare yourself for the operatic baritone that’s about to scare the swans out of the canal—

“Bonjour, Mesdames et Messieurs, je m'appelle Taehyung e…” he trails off, his shoulders sagging before he leans back, pouting, both hands resting on the cobbled sidewalk.

“Omelette du fromage?" You laugh.

Taehyung rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching despite his attempt to glare at you with all the strength he can muster. “I’m sorry you can’t appreciate the finer things in life.”

“Did you just insult yourself by trying to snub me?”

He snorts. “I’m starting to regret bringing you.”

“What happened to ‘I could live anywhere you are’?”

“Scratch that. I’m leaving you here.” He pokes a finger between your ribs, chuckling at your surprised squeal. “There’s no way you’re finding me—not with your language skills.”

You huff in mock offense. “Finding you would be easy. All I’d have to do is go to Paris, sit in front of the Monet museum, and wait.”

Taehyung’s grin widens and he pets the crown of your head teasingly, tutting when you swat his hand away, but his words are lined with fondness. “You’re like my personal Hachikō.”

A lazy smile pulls at your lips and you let your head loll against his shoulder. The air is sticky and humid and your blood trudges through your veins, slowly spreading the heat to your heavy limbs.

“There’s no way you’re getting rid of me. Better prepare yourself for the next 80 years, Tae.”

He looks down at you, face lighting up in amusement. “That seems like a lot.”

You hum, your eyes falling shut again. “You know me. I’m aiming for a new world record.”

Taehyung clears his throat and raises his glass. “To...” he pauses, making sure to lock eyes before clinking his glass against yours, “80 more years.”

You take a sip, your boyfriend’s face distorting in disgust the moment the dark liquid hits his taste buds.

“Why do people drink this?” He whines, frowning at the beer in his hand.

“I guess some people like it.” You take another sip of your drink, silently thanking yourself for picking a light La Chouffe Blond. You’d suggested the same to him but of course he didn’t listen—he has always been a bit too stubborn for his own good.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have gone for the Woody.”

He sighs. “I liked the name. And the waiter said it was a limited edition.”

You point at his elaborate salad, a beautifully plated mixture of vegetables and colourful flowers. “At least the food looks delicious.”

His pout disappears like snow under the sun and he sends you an exaggerated wink. “Not just the food.”

You take another swig of your beer, eyes trailing over his torso. He had insisted on changing into something less ‘blatantly touristy’ for dinner, which you knew was mostly an excuse for him to put on that linen suit you loved so much. Slate grey pants and matching jacket, the latter now draped over the back of his chair and leaving him in his white dress shirt, the two top buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to reveal his sinewy forearms.

The bastard knew.

“Speaking of delicious.” You lean in closer, lowering your voice, “are you wearing them?”

A soft blush creeps up his neck and he glances around, doing a quick scan of the terrace—as if anyone could hear his thoughts—then nods.

“Good.”

You move your chair back, its legs scraping over the uneven stones. Carrying it around the table you put it next to his, close enough for your knees to touch when you sit down.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung asks, eyeing you wearingly.

You smile, stealing a slice of cucumber from his plate. “What does it look like? I’m having a romantic dinner with my boyfriend.” You hold out the fork and he opens his mouth without second thought, eyes still narrowed at you as he chews his food.

“So.” You hover the next bite in front of him. “Show me.”

Taehyung nearly chokes on a sun-dried tomato, his cheeks flushing. “Right now?”

“Yes.” You wipe a few non-existent crumbs off his thigh. “Do you want to show it to me, Tae?” Your voice is soft but reassuring, and you search his eyes for any hesitation.

He scans the dining area again and his eyes widen in realisation; you’ve picked this table for a reason—at the back of the terrace, away from the street and shielded from view by the large plants that are potted between the tables to offer more privacy to the guests.

“I should’ve known.” He laughs, a rich, deep sound that sends flames licking up your spine, and when his eyes find yours again there’s something darker behind them.

He lowers one hand underneath the table. You track the movement; his slender fingers stroke over his stomach until he reaches the waistband of his pants, hand hovering above the button.

You notice he isn’t wearing a belt—and if the smug smile on his face is anything to go by, it was a deliberate choice.

“Did I hijack your plans for tonight?” You ask.

Taehyung licks his lips. “I don’t mind the change.” He leans back, his legs splayed out under the table. To an outsider he would appear confident and at ease, but you notice the small signs of excitement—the rushed breaths, his movements a little more jittery.

“Don’t get too cocky now, sweetheart.” You stab a piece of lettuce with your fork and wave it around. “People could see you.”

His body tenses, knee pressing into yours and you lean in closer, his dark curls tickling against your nose.

“Or do you want them to see you?”

He lets out a ragged breath, eyes glossing over and fingers curling into a fist.

You plant a chaste kiss on his temple and lean back, taking your time to drink in his agitated state, charging the tension between you. It hangs in the air, sultry and humid, making your head dizzy with anticipation.

Taehyung licks his lips again, eyes trained on the plate in front of him. He loves the thrill; the risk of being discovered makes his heart beat faster and sends the blood rushing south, as evident from his growing bulge. There’s a ringing in his ears that drowns out all noise and he has to strain himself to stay focused.

“Thought so.” You laugh and shift in your chair—a poor attempt at finding some relief for the growing ache between your legs.

He has undoubtedly noticed your movement, watching you from his peripheral vision, every nerve in his body on edge. You’ll have to control yourself better.

“You’re a little slut, aren’t you, Tae?”

He bites back a whimper, his confirmation barely audible above the chatter of voices and the clatter of cutlery around you.

He’s still looking at his food, left hand flexing underneath the table, the other fiddling with his fork. It’s clear that it takes him a lot of self-control to stay still and keep his breathing even.

“So needy, can’t even wait until we’re home.” You breathe against the shell of his ear, little puffs of air that have him squirming in his seat. “Did you wear this to look all pretty for me?”

“Want to show it to you, jagi—please.”

You chuckle at his impatience, the last part of his sentence coming out more like a whine.

“Always so eager.” Taehyung sits up a little straighter at your words and you plant another kiss on his temple. “Show it to me then, baby. Unbutton your pants.”

He obliges quickly, undoing the button with a twist of his fingers and pulling his shirt out of his slacks, exposing part of his stomach and a sliver of lace-clad skin.

You scrunch your nose. “Pretty, but I can’t see it very well.”

He takes the hint and drags the zipper down, struggling with one hand and the tightening fabric. Once open, he pulls it to the side, showing you the intricate pattern of flowers underneath. The black lace forms a stark contrast with the sleek grey linen and the deep golden hue of his skin, darkened from the hours lounging in the sun with no clothes on.

You inch closer and he shivers despite the heat, the faint scent of his sunscreen mixing with the taste of illicitness hanging heavy in the air. His cock strains against the lace, the head slipping out, and you wonder if the fabric will hold.

A drop of pre-cum slides down his slit and you catch it with one finger before his shirt can soak it up. He gasps at the brief contact, caught off-guard, head falling backwards.

Taehyung watches you through heavy-lidded eyes as you bring your hand up to your face, tongue darting out to lick the moisture off.

“Fuck—” He mumbles, and you steal another piece of food from his plate.

“Keep it together, Tae.” You tsk teasingly. “We’re at a restaurant.”

Popping the food into your mouth, you check on the other guests and the waiters, but no one seems to be paying you any attention.

You turn your gaze back to Taehyung, keeping your hands above the table this time.

“I can’t wait to fuck you when we get home,” you whisper. “Can’t wait to have you naked and begging underneath me.”

He lets out a strangled sound, eyes pleading, and you wish you could get up and straddle him—feeling him hard and heavy inside you, making him gasp and moan until his throat is hoarse.

Your own panties stick uncomfortably against your skin but you try to ignore it; eyes dropping down to his lap instead, frowning at the floral pattern pressing against his cock.

“I don’t think I’ve seen these before? They’re very pretty.”

His fingers are drawing small figure eights on the lace and you swallow at the thought of what they could do if you’d let him.

“I bought them. For you.”

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes and he trails his hand along the edge of the fabric, mapping it in the same way he’d caress your body, reverent yet resolute. “I’ve got more, back at the apartment. Wanted to surprise you.”

He watches you intently, pupils blown wide, and your heart stutters in your chest. The thought of him surprising you with something new only adds fuel to the simmering fire in your core, spreading the heat through your veins.

“I can’t wait.” He must hear the excitement in your voice because he raises his eyebrows, looking pleased with himself.

You match his grin. He probably thought this was the easy way out; to have you run back to your apartment and fuck him hard and fast.

It’s tempting.

“Let’s finish our dinner first.” You run your hand up his thigh and his neglected cock twitches at your touch. “Or did you forget what we came here for?”

“Jagi, please.”

A hint of desperation laces his voice and the buzzing in his ears is getting louder. His cock is painfully hard, so hard he can feel his heartbeat pulsing and beads of pre-cum are leaking on his dress shirt.

It’s simultaneously the most torturous and delicious sensation and Taehyung is torn between wanting to hurry home and stay here forever, kept on tenterhooks by your words. He closes his eyes, willing himself to stay still.

“We can go home whenever you want, just let me know. Do you remember the word?”

“Strawberry.” He shakes his head, voice sounding a little pinched. “I’m good.”

Moving upwards, your nails scratch the soft skin of his stomach, just above the lace. His breath hitches in his throat as your hand brushes against his cock, leaving to pick up your glass instead.

He makes a low noise, not quite a growl but close, leg jerking against the table.

“You have to eat, we can’t have anyone getting suspicious.” You point at the other tables. “But you have two hands. Do you think you can be a good boy and use both?”

“‘Mcanbeagoodboy.” It tumbles from his lips faster than you can blink and he takes a bite of his food, chewing it with devotion, waiting for you to finally utter the words—

“Touch yourself for me.”

He closes his eyes and cups his length over the panties, hissing at the contact.

“Good, now stroke yourself—slowly.”

He gives a tentative stroke, biting his lip to keep a moan from spilling out.

You wonder if the lace feels good. Its scratchy texture rubs against his sensitive cock, the moisture leaking from his tip not enough to ease the glide.

“Do you like that? Like it a little rough?”

He lets out a soft moan, his knee brushing against yours, fabric on bare skin. It sends a spark of heat travelling upwards, pooling between your legs.

“What would people think of you if they saw you like this?”

You snatch a brightly coloured flower from his plate, studying it in the warm evening light. “Sitting here, looking all pretty with your dick out in the middle of the restaurant.”

He whimpers and you tut, shaking your head. “And it only makes you harder.”

One glance is enough to confirm your suspicion—his cock lays thick and solid against his palm, twitching at your words.

He flicks his wrist, forcing himself to keep his movements small and inconspicuous.

“Or...” Your voice is barely more than a whisper and Taehyung has to strain to hear you above the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. “Maybe they’re talking about you already, but you can’t understand them.”

A sheen of perspiration is forming on his brow, his jaw tensing as he bites on his tongue to keep silent, food long forgotten. He is barely touching himself yet your words and the soft noises of the other guests in the background are overwhelming his senses, pushing him closer to the edge.

“That couple over there—” you nod towards the two people seated behind a large plant, “–if she leans back just a little, she might see you.”

You rest your arm on the back of his chair and let your eyes drop down to his lap, voice laced with desire, “I mean, you’re hard to miss.”

“Did you enjoy your meal?”

Taehyung doubles over into a coughing fit, the sudden voice surprising you both. You recover quickly and smile back at the waiter, who sends Taehyung a concerned look and pours some water into an empty glass.

“Are you okay, sir? Here.” He holds the glass out and Taehyung takes it, his chest pressed flush against the table to shield his lower body from view.

You send the man a saccharine smile. “The food was excellent, thank you.”

The waiter looks uncertain, but doesn’t press further. “Do you want dessert? Something else to drink?”

You pat Taehyung, who’s starting to look slightly less red in the face, on the back.

“I think we are saving dessert for later. Thank you.”

Taehyung ended up having to shuffle out of the restaurant like a fool, awkwardly holding his jacket against his body in an attempt to hide his peculiar state. It made his ears burn hotly in a way he liked a little too much.

He filed that sensation away for the time being and tried to focus on willing his boner to go down instead.

“You can’t pay with your dick here, Tae.” You’d winked at him, paid for dinner and waited until the coast was clear, dragging him outside.

The two of you giggle all the way back to the apartment, filled with a care-free giddiness only the presence of a loved one in a strange country can bring.

Taehyung fishes the key out of his pocket, still shaking with laughter. “I can’t believe he nearly caught us. How did he not notice?”

You stumble inside and kick off your heels, making a beeline for the large bed in the middle of the room, flopping onto your back.

“He probably had his suspicions, but what could he have done? Ask ‘excuse me, sir, are you jerking off during dinner?’”

“Hey! At least it was in front of my own salad!” Taehyung throws his jacket over your head, ignoring your muffled protest from underneath the piece of clothing. He walks over to the large windows and opens one to let in the cooler evening air.

For five days you could call a late 19th century studio in Bruges your home. Situated in the historic center on the second floor of a three story building, the both of you had been gushing praises the moment you stepped through the door. Taehyung about the restoration of the tall ceilings, you about the large bath that somehow turned out to be even bigger in person than in the pictures.

Jumping on the bed, he cages you in between his arms, peppering kisses along your jaw.

“Tae.” You press your hands against his shoulders and he pushes himself up on his elbows, eyebrows raised in question.

“Didn’t you say you had a surprise for me?”

He laughs, a rumbling sound that vibrates against your chest. “Hmm, look who’s eager now.”

He clambers off the bed, rummaging around in his suitcase until he finds a canvas bag. It looks rather full. You crane your neck to see if there’s something sticking out which might give you an inkling about the bag’s contents, but he’s holding it firmly closed.

“I’m gonna need some time to fix myself up a little—” he waves the bag around, “—for the… optimal effect.” He grins, darting off towards the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

You can hear him turn on the faucet and you roll onto your stomach, grabbing his phone and selecting one of his laid-back, jazzy playlists.

When you’d first met Taehyung at a bar, the blue-haired man with the bright smile had immediately caught your eye. Not just because of his good looks, but because of the way he spoke about his field—architecture—the words tumbling from his lips, thoughtful yet a bit jumbly, but endearingly so. His excitement had sparked something in you and before you knew it you’d found yourself getting lectured on 16th century Gothic architecture for the remainder of the night.

You’d left the place with newfound knowledge and his phone number.

From the moment you two started dating it became clear Taehyung enjoyed beautiful things. Art, fashion, historical buildings, lingerie. He was never shy about it, even if some of his tastes might be considered a little unconventional: this was simply who he was, and you admired how he always stayed true to himself.

He’d said he ‘got more back at the apartment’, but you aren’t sure what ‘more’ meant. More lingerie? You’d only ever seen him wear panties, and the thought of him wearing something different has your stomach twisting in excitement.

For now, you’ll have to settle with browsing the internet until he’s ready. You try not to glance towards the digital clock at the top of your phone every few seconds, willing yourself to focus on the cute dance teacher’s video you're watching. His smooth movements and complex choreography does wonders to draw you in, everything around you dissipating into the background.

A door opens and you flinch at the sound, whipping your head around.

Taehyung is leaning against the doorpost. The light behind him illuminates his figure in a soft glow and he watches you with a coy smile as you drink in the sight of him.

Nothing he could’ve said or done could have prepared you for this.

His dark hair falls over his forehead in soft waves, longer at the back, caressing his neck. His lips are painted ruby red, a colour that looks like it was made for him—looking like it would taste of cranberries with a hint of something darker.

He pushes his hair out of his eyes with the back of a lace-clad hand, gloves covering his forearms and extending all the way up past his elbows.

A sheer, black cincher is fastened around his waist. It has the same floral pattern as his panties—you recognize it from earlier—and ends just under his midriff, emphasizing his strong chest and shoulders.

Your eyes travel down again, following the suspenders on the cincher, clipped to black gossamer stockings. He notices your gaze trailing lower and moves his right leg, showing off the high heels on his feet. The red backseam on the stockings matches the soles of the shoes, a small detail that makes you want to reach out and trace the red stripe all the way up to his thighs.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

It’s not until you try to speak that you realise your mouth has been hanging open a little. You move to sit on the edge of the bed, finally managing to croak out a response.

“I—I love it.”

He beams at you, a broad grin that takes over his entire face, eyes scrunched up.

He comes closer, surprisingly stable and elegant in such high heels—you wonder if he’s been practicing—the mattress dipping under his weight as he straddles you. His arms come up to wrap around your neck and your hands slide up his stocking-clad thighs, coming to rest at his waist.

Your fingers play with the lace. “You look amazing.” You nibble at his throat and he tilts his head backwards, allowing you more room.

He looks like he should be on a film set, smoking fake cigarettes with a fur coat loosely draped around his shoulders—not in a bedroom in Bruges, skin soft and pliant under your touch.

The scent of his cologne—earthy and warm with a crisp note of pine—mixed with the faint smell that’s so unmistakably Taehyung makes you feel hazy. He moans softly and your fingers dig a little harder into his sides as you suck on the skin just under his jaw.

“All for you,” he hums.

Hands sliding down again, you expect to feel more lace—but to your surprise, there’s only a waistband and two smaller bands running down his backside. You lean back, catching his gaze. “Backless panties?” You groan. “Fuck, baby, you really went all out, didn’t you?”

He smirks and rolls his hips in your hands, hard length dragging against your stomach.

A loud slap echoes through the room and he yelps at the unexpected sting, your hand already rubbing soothing circles on the skin of his ass.

“Not so fast.”

You grasp his chin between your thumb and index finger, angling his head down so you can look him in the eye.

“Do you remember that I asked you if you could be a good boy for me, back at the restaurant?”

His eyes burn into yours, pupils blown so wide there’s barely any brown left.

“Yes, jagi.”

“And were you?”

He frowns and rocks his hips again, looking for more friction, distracted by your other hand still kneading his flesh. “Yes? The waiter—”

“Not the waiter; that wasn’t your fault. I asked you to use both hands and eat. Did you do that?”

“I—No,” he stammers. “It—”

His words are cut off by the drag of your thumb over his bottom lip, smearing some of the red lipstick on his cheek. The sight of it awakens something inside you—a burning need to strip down his beautifully crafted appearance of silk and lace.

To have him sobbing and begging for more.

You slip two fingers inside his mouth, pressing down on his tongue.

“You’ve been having trouble focusing lately.”

Taehyung has been so busy with work—the amount of projects piling up quicker than he can finish them.

It has become difficult to turn off the endless stream of thoughts sometimes. Made it hard to fall asleep. You’ve more than once caught him wandering around the house in the dead of night, phone screen casting a ghostly blue glow over his face.

He closes his mouth around your digits, saliva pooling on the back of his tongue.

“And since I intend to take my time with you today—” you pull your fingers out of his mouth, spit dribbling down his chin, “—you’re gonna stay here and suck until I’ve had enough.”

You push your fingers past his lips again and he groans, lapping at them, gagging when you hit the back of his throat. He licks and sucks, trying to banish all thoughts from his mind and latch onto the feeling of your fingers and the wet, squelching sound they make as they stuff his mouth.

But it’s impossible when he’s perched in your lap like this, your other hand resting on his hip and his own laying uselessly on his thighs, so close to his throbbing cock.

He ruts against you and you pinch his nipple, just hard enough to have him writhing.

“Focus.”

You add a third finger and his eyes slip shut. He’s a mess already—chin covered in drool, red paint smeared around his swollen lips.

“Look at you. You love this, don’t you? God, you’re so filthy.”

Taehyung doesn’t miss the flicker of awe behind your words and doubles down on his efforts, moaning his affirmation around your fingers.

You know how much he loves this. How much it turns him on.

And how hard it is for him to keep himself from moving. Every time his hips jolt you meet him with a resounding smack across the globes of his ass. He strains to keep his body still, the muscles in his legs tensing.

“Fuck—like that,” you murmur when he takes your fingers as deep as he can. His thighs are clamping yours together and pinning them down to the bed, causing a steady pressure on your core.

It’s not enough to satisfy you, but the sight of him lapping at your fingers sends another wave of heat rolling over your body, spreading to your limbs and dampening the fabric of your panties.

The muscles in his jaw and neck are twisting and flexing with every move, muffled sounds resonating in his throat. He has his eyes closed, entranced, showing you everything his skillful tongue has in store while your praise fuels his diligent work.

He whines when you pull your fingers out of his mouth, wiping them on his cheek.

“That’s it, baby. Clean up.”

And shit—Taehyung shouldn’t like it that much, the contrast between the sweet pet name and the dismissive action, yet here he is; rock-hard and dragging one of his gloved arms across his face to clean up the mess he’s made.

“Want to taste you, jagi.” He sounds a little breathless, quickly tacking on a ‘please’ when you raise an eyebrow at him. He’s looking at you from underneath thick lashes, lips slightly parted, faint traces of red lipstick still clinging to them.

“Want to make you feel good.”

His deep, dulcet voice transforms into molten arousal that clings to your skin and pools between your thighs. You crash your mouth against his in a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth, a hand tangled in his hair.

You pull back before his sweet lips can turn too treacherous, leaving you hazy and winded.

“On your knees.”

There’s a waver of excitement in your voice, a small wobble Taehyung undoubtedly noticed, one corner of his mouth turned up when he scrambles off your lap and kneels in front of the bed between your feet.

Your fingers trace the soft lines and ridges of his strong shoulders, dipping down to circle one of his nipples. He shifts with the growing discomfort between his legs but doesn’t utter a word.

Taehyung could die here, happily, stocking-clad knees digging into the carpet and eyes locked onto your clothed core. He never knows how long you’re going to make him wait, and it excites him, nerves on edge while he counts the hammering beats of his heart. He’s sure you must be feeling it underneath the tips of your fingers as they trail over his chest; his heart is pounding so loudly it might as well jump out of his skin and into your bare hands.

“You’ve been such a good boy,” you murmur, eyes fixed on his swollen lips. “You can have a taste.”

Lifting your hips up, you slide your panties down your legs. You can take your dress off later—right now all you can think of is getting Taehyung’s pretty mouth to work.

You spread your legs and his lace-clad hands slide over your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He kisses the inside of your knee, first on your left leg and then on your right, slowly working his way up.

His hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer until his warm breath hits your core.

“Fuck, Tae—stop teasing.” You grab a fistful of hair and press his face between your legs, feeling him chuckle against your skin.

Then he does exactly like he’s told—and you’re not sure what would’ve been worse.

You have to steady yourself with one hand behind you on the mattress as he licks a broad stripe up your folds, collecting the arousal that has gathered there. You might’ve been embarrassed by how wet you are already if it wasn’t for him circling your clit with experienced ease, turning your thoughts into garbled, incoherent chatter.

All those times he’s tasted you in your bedroom, in the back of your car, at his parents’ house, or any public place imaginable—like that one time, underneath the table at Seokjin’s—perfecting his favourite pastime, are now paying off.

There’s a steady pressure building in your core with every flick of his tongue and he groans when your hips start moving to meet his face.

“Ah—more,” you breathe, arm trembling under your weight. You lower yourself on your elbow, your other hand still tangled in his hair, tugging him closer.

Taehyung sticks his tongue out and you grind on his face, fingers twisting in his dark strands. They become your anchor, and he lets you use him, lets you coat him in your arousal from his chin up to his nose.

He makes a choked-off noise and the vibrations send sparks of heat up your spine. He shifts, slipping past your entrance, fucking you with his tongue—only to drag it back up and toy it around your clit, coaxing a series of profanities out of you. They mingle with the wet, sloppy sounds echoing off the high ceiling.

He holds you there, dangling above the precipice, with his large hands clasped firm around your thighs. The tremble of your legs tells him you’re close, head lolled back and commands replaced by wordless gasps.

Your vision shatters when he sucks on your clit, core clenching and coating his face in hot release. He laps it up eagerly, savouring every drop, bringing you down from your high with soft brushes of his tongue.

You slump against the mattress, boneless and basking in the afterglow of your orgasm.

Vaguely, you register his large hands caressing your thighs and you force yourself to sit up.

“Good?” He asks, knowing full well that he just made you see the stars two galaxies over.

“Yes.” You sigh, contented. “Can’t feel my feet.”

He looks satisfied, eyes turning into crescent moons. You bend down to press a kiss against his lips and the taste of your own arousal stirs up the heat in your core again. Pulling back slightly, you graze your fingers along his jaw, eyes finding his.

“Tell me what you want.” You trace the slope of his nose, pretending not to know his answer.

“Jagi,” he whispers into the palm of your hand, “will you fuck me?”

His eyes are dark and focused, and in this moment, there’s nothing you want more.

“Get on the bed,” you order, and he’s quick to move, hands and knees planted firmly on the mattress.

You take a moment to admire him—the lace hugs the soft curves of his waist and thighs, leaving his ass on display for you. He arches his back and the sight of him spread out like this, waiting, makes your core clench and your knees weak.

“You look gorgeous,” you affirm, voice mellifluous and infused with want. “I could watch you all day.”

“Just watch?” He cranes his head back, lifting one eyebrow, and you land a playful smack on his ass.

“Patience, baby. We gotta get you ready first.”

You’d told him you were going to take your time—and you’re going to keep your word, determined to wipe that self-satisfied expression off his face.

Your hands slide over his stockings, trailing up until they reach the soft skin of his thighs. The tips of your fingers tease along the edge of the panties and he pushes back a little, hissing when you tighten your grip, fingers forming dimples in the plush fat of his ass.

He opens his mouth to say something but the words are cut off when your tongue grazes his skin, just a small flutter at the bend of his legs—barely there, but enough to throw him off, fingers scrabbling for the sheets.

You suck purple blooms into his thighs, tongue soothing the bruised marks, eliciting a string of soft moans from him.

If it wasn’t for the gloves, you could’ve seen Taehyung’s knuckles turning white from the force with which he’s gripping the linen. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, only supported by the thin lace. The pressure is equal parts welcoming and infuriating; always there but never enough, just like you. You’re nipping and lapping at his skin, hands all over him, but not where he needs you most.

You’re toying with him and it drives him crazy.

“Jagi—please, fuck—” he moans when your teeth bruise his hip, just below the lace.

“Is something wrong?” you ask with feigned concern, delighting in the way he squirms at the loss of your touch. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” he pleads, “please don’t stop.”

“Hmm.” You frown, sliding your hands over his skin. Taehyung’s body is slender, but most of his wiry muscle is in his shoulders, arms, and calves, the rest of him soft and malleable under your touch. For a man this lean he has a surprisingly plump ass, and it’s only being emphasised by the lace trimmed around his waist and the way he arches his back.

He hears you still behind him, and he wiggles his hips a little, trying to entice you.

You bend over and tangle a hand into his hair, pulling him up until his back is flush against your chest. He makes a low, guttural sound as you tighten your grip into his curls and nip at his throat, his head resting on your shoulder.

“You want it bad, don’t you baby?” His body feels feverishly hot even through the fabric of your dress. You’ve barely touched him but he’s already writhing against you and pleading for more.

With his cheeks flushed, hair stuck to his forehead, body covered in purple bruises and faint remains of make-up clinging to his skin, he’s so raw and real—and yet you’ve never seen him look more ethereal.

“My beautiful, needy boy.” Your lips are soft and gentle against his skin. “Such a pitiful sight.”

He lets out a broken sob, urgent and desperate and it sends a rush of arousal dripping down your thighs. You release his hair, pushing him back on all fours, and the wet stripe you lick from his perineum to the small of his back takes him completely off-guard.

Taehyung drops to his elbows with a low moan and buries his face into the sheets. Everything is too bright, too much for his soaring nerves—it’s overwhelming, the sudden press of your tongue, and he has to bite his lip to stop himself from crying out.

You’re alternating small kitten licks with more pressure, hands massaging his ass while your tongue traces his rim. The noises he’s making are muffled by the sheets, and you slowly feel his body relax under your touch.

“Lube?” you ask, and Taehyung waves into the general direction of his suitcase. You climb off the bed to retrieve the canvas bag he took to the bathroom earlier, pulling out a bottle of lube, a purple silicone dildo, and your harness.

Quickly shrugging off the remainder of your clothes, you fasten the dildo through the metal o-ring and give it a tug to make sure it’s snug in place. Then you step into the harness, tightening the padded leather strap around your waist, and making sure the ones running along the inside of your thighs are secure yet loose enough so they won’t chafe your skin.

Stretching your back, you take a moment to let your body attune to the added weight before getting back behind Taehyung, pouring a generous amount of lube onto your fingers.

“I’m sorry if it’s a little cold.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fi—ahh,” Taehyung’s words are cut off by the soft press of your finger. You trail it teasingly along the ring of muscle, knowing the slick glide will drive him up the walls.

He’s lifting himself back up on his hands and his hips start to move on their own volition in an attempt at creating more friction. “Jagi, please.”

Slowly, you let your finger sink inside, careful to give him time to adjust. You ease him into the feeling with soft praises, adding a second finger when you feel him loosen up enough.

The lube creates an easy slide and his body tenses when you curl your fingers, hitting the spot that has him twisting and jerking under your touch.

You press a little harder, grinning. “Right there?”

He responds by grinding against your hand, head falling forward when you add a third finger. His thighs are trembling and you run your other hand between his shoulder blades to anchor him. “You okay, baby?”

You wait for him to find his words. It can take him a moment sometimes—especially when he’s feeling overwhelmed like this, stretched and spread out and at his most vulnerable.

“I’m—yes.” It’s all he can manage to get out right now, ears heating at the tremble of excitement in his voice, a shrill contrast with his dark tone.

“Turn around.” You remove your fingers and he sniffles at the sudden loss. “I want to watch your face when I fuck you.”

He moves, and the sight beneath you makes you pause. Taehyung isn’t petite, but he somehow manages to look delicate and dainty under your hands, the intricate lace only adding to his elegance.

You blink to clear your clouded head, slicking up your strap with more lube, positioning yourself between his spread thighs.

“Is this what you wanted?” you ask, sliding the dildo against his skin.

But he doesn’t know what to say, not when you're pressing into him like that—so torturously slow until you’re finally, finally fully sheathed.

And then you’re moving, pulling out and snapping your hips back in one swift motion, stealing the air from his lungs. You steady yourself, knees pressing into the mattress and hands tight around his waist. It doesn’t take you long to find the right pace, core clenching at the continuous stream of illegible words and moans tumbling from his lips, increasing in volume with every thrust.

"Fuck—” your throat feels parched, and you tighten your grip on his waist, hard enough to bruise, “—you sound so sweet."

You're smiling down at him, that smile that makes his stomach twist in arousal and embarrassment; that smile that says look at you, so riled up, you really can't help yourself huh?

And he does sound pathetic, doesn't he, loud whines and whimpers falling from his lips unrestrained. Suddenly, his own voice sounds alien to his ears. Since when did it get this high?

“Do you want the entire city to hear you?”

You grasp him impossibly tighter, punctuating the words with a roll of your hips. “Go on… Let everyone know how good I’m fucking you.”

He moans, a breathy confirmation whispered into the sheets.

His cock has softened a little, weeping pre-cum on his stomach. He tugs at it with one hand and you pull his wrist away. “Not yet, baby.”

He groans in frustration and you bend over, bringing your face above his. “I know. But you’re gonna wait until I say you can come.” You grind against his thighs, and he’s trying, biting his lip until it’s swollen and reddened, keeping the pleasure caged behind his teeth. His back arches off the sheets, body chasing after yours every time you nearly pull out.

“Hold your leg for me.” He grasps his left leg with one hand and folds it closer to his chest, careful not to hit you with his heel. You grasp the other leg and hike it over your shoulder to use his thigh as leverage for your thrusts.

He curses at the change in angle, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. It’s almost too much, and he’s afraid he might shatter into a million little pieces when you tug the front of his panties down and wrap your hand around his cock.

You can feel his length stiffen in your palm and you glide your slick thumb over his slit, slowing down the grind of your hips to a lazy roll, building it up again in time with the strokes of your wrist.

“Ah—shit—I’m not gonna last.” Taehyung shakes his head, and somewhere at the back of his mind he registers himself crying with pleasure, so overcome with the feeling he’s sure he won’t be able to hold back. You can see him struggling, one hand pressed against the headboard and his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Such a good boy.” You tighten your grip around his cock and he whimpers.

“I can’t—”

“Then come for me, baby.” His entire body tenses before the last syllable has left your mouth and he coats the lace in ropes of white. You stroke him until the last drop, slowing down your hips until he’s jerking with oversensitivity.

You pull out, moving until you're next to him, pressing kisses on the tip of his nose. “You did so well.” He lets you cradle him in your arms, humming against your skin.

“Thank you, jagi.” He nuzzles into your neck but you lean back a little, petting his hair.

“Can you wait here for a moment?” He nods, and you get off the bed. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

You remove your harness and turn on the tap in the bathroom, adding some rose-scented soap you’ve found in the cabinet to the water.

Grabbing a towel, you get back on the bed and clean the cum and sweat off Taehyung’s body and clothes before it gets dry. You pull at his arms, trying to get his limp body to move.

“Come on, the water will get cold,” you huff. He’s heavier than he looks, and determined not to move a single inch more than necessary.

“My legs don’t work,” he complains.

You chuckle. “It’s a bathtub, Tae, not an Olympic-sized swimming pool. You won’t drown.”

He grins, a half-hearted attempt, and hoists himself up with a loud groan. He disappears into the bathroom and you ruffle around in your suitcase, grabbing a small package.

Taehyung has discarded his clothes and is already sitting in the tub, surrounded by bubbles, his eyes closed and a blissful smile on his face.

You step into the water and sit down across him, leaning in to kiss the mole on his nose. His long lashes flutter and he lets out a soft hum.

“Yup. I could live here.” He sighs. “That, or I’m bringing this bath back home.”

“Hey, Tae.” You gently poke his shoulder, feeling warmth blossoming in your chest at the sight of him. “I got you something, too.”

His eyes fly open. “You did?”

Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed this fic please consider reblogging and leaving a comment or an ask. Your feedback means the world to me and keeps me going!

↠ Masterlist

#thebtswritersclub #kpopscape #bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #btsghostie #bts fanfic #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #sub!bts #sub bts #taehyung #kim taehyung #bts v

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tohokuu · 2 years

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☠︎︎ TOHOKUU’S FANTASY COLLAB ☠︎︎

❥ WELCOME

the prompt of this collab is to create a piece of work with a fantastical twist ! for example, pirate!seonghwa, superhero!hongjoong, prince!san, etc. the point is to create a work where they aren’t idols or regular people ! villains are also allowed, for example joker!yeosang or thanos!taehyung. if you need help deciding, my dms are open !

ateez : prince ! hongjoong @fciryhj , fairy ! seonghwa @tohokuu , greek god !yeosang @fallinforgyu , slytherin ! mingi @woahhwa , wizard ! san @dairyminki , bogart ! wooyoung @songmingisthighs , diwata ! jongho @hwasrie shapeshifter ! yunho @yunhoflrtz

txt : beomgyu, statue ! taehyun @crowhyun , demon ! yeonjun @traxxmatic , soobin, huening kai

enhypen : jay, jake, sunghoon, rumplestiltskin ! sunoo @kurosism , jungwon (sfw content only), niki (sfw content only)

nct 127 : taeyong, mermaid ! jaehyun @kpop-s-akura , johnny, mark, taeil, haechan, jungwoo, doyoung, yuta

bts : werewolf ! jungkook @atozfic , constantine ! taehyung @thebiasrekkers , namjoon, yoongi, hobi, jimin, jin

reblogs appreciated !

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thebiasrekkers · 3 years

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Circles of Marigolds | CHW

Plot: Hyungwon is a fiend whose cynicism has him trapped inside of an invisible prison. He’s only known those ruined walls for countless amounts of years. Resigning himself to his fate, a curious stranger appears and throws his world into a small bubble of controlled chaos.

Rating: Mature // 18+ // NSFW

Genre: angst | hurt/comfort | supernatural

Pairing: Fiend/Demon!Chae Hyungwon x OC [Sabine Archer]

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Self-Injury (Hyungwon injures himself), blood, gore, heavy angst, swearing, recounting past rape and emotional trauma [not OC], magic/supernatural powers, mentions of death and wanting to die, explosive emotions/heavy cynicism

Links: FAQ || Monsta X Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 16.8k (THICC)

AN: I was just sitting on my couch and playing Nier Replicant when this story decided to dream itself up. I’m a huge visual novel nerd so there may or may not be elements I took from a variety of things I’ve read to help inspire this work as well. There is no smut. There is no romance. There is only pain. READ ALL WARNINGS! If you expected smut or romance then I’m here to tell you, this ain’t it, Chief.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Marigolds symbolize beauty, warmth, creativity and winning the affection of someone through hard work. It is also said that marigolds, in the language of flowers, means cruelty, grief and jealousy.

~c.h.~

Much of the stone walls and floors were weathered into dirt and dust, revealing the foundation. The ceiling, too, was crumpled to the ground; layered in flakes and bits. The dirt beneath a pair of worn leather shoes was such tired soil.

Tired, tired soil.

There wasn’t much to do there except burn dead leaves and wait. To watch the smoke rise slowly and tickle the inside of one’s nose.

Dull as bones. That’s all it was.

It was morning. Hyungwon could smell it in the air. There was the faintest scent of fresh dew collecting on the foliage outside. A healthy shower would fall on the world in a few days, if not that very day. Unfortunately, he would not be able to see it. He hadn’t been able to see it for some time. He could do nothing, because he was stuck.

Others would say “cursed”, though he preferred the term “bound”.

He’d lost count years ago. Odd for a fiend such as him. Their kind was well-known for being able to ascertain the time; down to the very minute. No - the very second of every single moment. He didn’t like to think about it very much. It didn’t change his situation any. If anything, dwelling on it only made his predicament all the more pitiable.

Or laughable, depending on who you were.

Kneeling down to the small fire he’d created, he took a few of the embers into his palm - inhaling the acrid smell of burnt earth. The amber glow was the only thing that reminded Hyungwon that he had a heartbeat. That he was still alive.

He brought the scorched earth closer to his face, shutting his eyes as he tasted it and spit. Sighing, he dropped the dirt back into the mouth of the flames and watched as the orange and red tongues devoured it once more.

It’s barren.

Of course it was. It was always barren. Because for a being such as him, standing in a singular spot and allowing his miasmic aura to seep out from his skin, the land would wither away with each step he took. It was the nature of his kind. Regardless of the stories, his kin were a very fickle and emotional sort of lot. Modern scientists weren’t necessary to obtain such a conclusion. One look around him and anyone could determine that he was none-too-pleased to be trapped the way he was.

...I’m going to be waiting forever.

Suddenly, the dead leaves and grass rustled off in the distance. Quickly rising to his feet, Hyungwon's eyes shifted in every direction imaginable while he strained his ears. The bored side of himself believed that it was just the wind - the weather pressing on for an oncoming storm. But there was something...unnatural about it. If it had been the wind, surely all the leaves around him would have moved in tandem.

No. This was coming from the east end of the weathered hall. It had to be.

Silencing his breath, Hyungwon struggled to swallow the lump in his throat as his own heartbeat began to climb rapidly. He didn’t dare to hope, yet his own excitement could hardly be smothered. A whirlwind of questions began to assault his mind, fighting for dominance over the loud drumming of his heart.

What is it? he thought, feeling his brows furrow slightly, Who? Is there another one here?

Hyungwon’s mind was racing on what he should do. Did he remain silent? No, that was simply foolish. He’d been waiting for this sort of fortuitous occurrence for who knew how many decades now. Being quiet in the presence of another was out of the question.

But could he be forward? Would yelling out to the stranger be even more foolish? Perhaps a lie was in order.

Help! Help! I’ve been so wickedly trapped!

Would that work?

He frowned.

Of course it wouldn’t.

Hyungwon knew he needed to just be still. He needed to just listen and listen closely.

As he quieted his breath, he also quieted his thoughts. All he had to do was pay attention. It wouldn’t take him long to figure out what was going on. He just had to be patient, quiet, and attentive.

The shuffling grew louder; more frantic. Chests whined as they were opened and doors were hurriedly thrown out as whatever the new presence was continued its busy movements. Clearly they were exploring. Most likely they were a scavenger of some sort. Hyungwon couldn’t hide the smirk that pulled at the corners of his lips.

This whole building was little more than a ruin now; a ghost of its former glorious self. There wouldn’t be anything to scavenge in a neglected man-made thing such as this. The most outstanding miracle was that someone found this place at all.

Hearing all that noise was just...odd to him. It shouldn’t have been, but it was.

Strange, he thought, his frown returning, I should remember sounds such as these…

The distinct clatter of a metal pot resonated through the halls - echoing against the weathered stone pillars of what remained of that place. Whoever it was, they managed to stumble through the lounge and into the kitchen. Several more metal tinny sounds reverberated over the air and tickled the hairs along the back of his neck. Hyungwon scoffed, noting that said stranger was making a right mess of the place. If they managed to make it from there, then it wouldn’t take them long to stumble into the grand hall that he was currently situated in.

On the off chance that it did happen, Hyungwon stood up straight and flattened his palms along the lapels of his suit jacket. Just as he began fluffing up his hair a measure, the sound began to draw closer until, to his surprise, it showed up through the doors the very next minute.

No.

Not an it.

A she.

A human girl.

She was carrying a pack and there was a bottle swinging from her waist. Maybe she was a traveler? It didn’t appear that she’d noticed Hyungwon yet. Her stare was adrift and she seemed almost distracted by the new area she stumbled into.

After a few more steps, he seemed to catch her eye. She moved a little closer to stare at Hyungwon’s face. A little more to look down at his feet. She stopped there. There was no other movement that existed between them.

She continued to stare. Nothing more.

Without meaning to, Hyungwon found himself doing the same. When was the last time he’d seen another person? How was he supposed to react? Clearly they could see him. How could they not? He stuck out like a sore thumb around the backdrop of this broken down wonder. His pale hair and clear gray eyes were probably even more strange, regardless of the finely tailored suit he donned.

No, that most definitely made his appearance even more strange.

“...come here.”

As if realizing something, she stiffened. Her heartbeat was loud in the air, causing Hyungwon’s ears to ring a little. He felt his deadpan expression melt into a small measure of amusement.

“I need your help, so come here.”

Hyungwon’s voice beckoned her, taking on a friendly air. He certainly didn’t want to scare the poor girl. It wouldn’t help his current predicament in the slightest. However, the girl didn’t bend a single square inch. In fact, there seemed to be a furrow of doubt forming on her brow.

This caused his own brows to knit and the next time he spoke, there was a harsh edge to his words. “What in the hell are you waiting for, brat?!” He watched her eyes widen slightly as her shoulders jumped in surprise. He felt one of his fangs dig into the meat of his lower lip as he glared at her. “Oh, have I been rude? Have I offended you? Then how about this? You are invited to move your daft legs, you hear?!”

It was the first conversational words he’d spoken in centuries. To be fair, they could have been much worse.

She shook with fear and took a step back. “...a-a fiend?”

“Slow on the uptake, are you? Does it even matter? Stop shaking in your frilly underskirt and get over here.”

The girl grit her teeth, balling up her fist and then pointing an accusatory finger at Hyungwon. “N-No way! You’ll definitely try to devour my soul!”

Hyungwon balked, feeling his jaw slacken at the outrageous declaration. “I’ll what now?” He felt a smile tear across his face. It didn’t take long for him to fall into a small fit of laughter. “What was that? Your soul, you say?”

When was the last time he’d laughed like this?

His grin continued to broaden and he felt a warmth collecting deep within his insides. Confidently, he flashed his teeth at the girl and watched as she shrank back a measure - increasing the distance between them little by little. Lifting a hand up to his face, he pressed his palm against his cheek and canted his head slightly. His full-fanged smile continued to show.

“Person? Ah, yes, person.” Hyungwon chuckled. “You’re just perfect. Too perfect. A comedian, you are.” Casting her a knowing look, he lifted a brow in question. “Say, won’t you listen to what I have to say?” He took a breath, sucking in his lips between his teeth before releasing them with a soft pop, revealing a single fang between his thick buds. Hyungwon’s eyes narrowed in mischief. “...before I eat your soul, that is.”

Again, Hyungwon burst into gales of laughter. The girl didn’t take too kindly to his amusement, not that it mattered to him. This was great entertainment after endless years of silence and isolation.

The girl glared back at him, steeled herself, and took a step forward to emphasize her need to showcase her courage in his presence. “You won’t catch me off guard, demon!” She puffed her chest out in a show of defiance and pride. “I’ve read the stories about your kind. I may be weary, but I’m no fool!”

Hyungwon’s grin remained. “Ah, am I that famous?” He clicked his tongue along the roof of his mouth. “I see. I’ve left a mark then, hm?”

“You know what I mean!”

“No, I really don’t.”

The girl puffed her cheeks out, stomping one of her booted feet into the dead leaves around her. “Devils are what you are! Fiendish demons!” Again, she pointed at Hyungwon and he didn’t bother hiding his amusement this time. “I know how it is!”

He leaned forward, still smirking while shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Oh? And how is it? Enlighten me, would you?”

She seemed surprised by how unfazed he appeared. But it was unavoidable. Everything tumbling from this girl’s mouth was just too hilarious.

The furrow of her brows deepened to showcase her displeasure. Hyungwon thought she looked cute but kept this comment to himself...for now.

“You’re all foul and you try to trick people at every chance afforded to you!”

“Trick you?!” Hyungwon threw his head back and laughed, his fingers curling into fists in his pockets in an attempt to steady himself. It would be very embarrassing if he were to fall backwards on his ass in the presence of this adorable stranger. “Ha!”

He really couldn’t believe it.

What’s happened in all the years I’ve been gone?

A small stretch of silence manifested between them once more. Hyungwon cut through said silence with a soft chuckle.

“And what if I don’t want to trick you, Girl?” Removing one hand from his pocket, he gave a soft flourish with his arm as he gestured to her. “What if I simply wish to hear your voice?”

The girl’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Wha? What the hell does that even mean?”

A giddy feeling began to swirl in Hyungwon’s chest. “Well, why don’t you tell me what it is you’ve read? What adventures have you gone on? I’m terribly bored and I’d love to hear a story.”

She turned her nose up at him. “...I think I’ll leave.”

“You’d turn your back on a wicked, bloodthirsty creature such as me?” Once again, he flashed his fiendish fangs at the girl. “A fiend, huh?”

This time she scoffed. “I know something rotten when I see it. You’re not fooling anyone, let alone me.”

Another chuckle rumbled in his chest. Ah, she’s just so precious.

He shrugged, sighing as he waved a hand back and forth. “Alright, alright. You win.” He stuck his hand back in his pocket. “You’re right. Like all of us demons, devils and wicked fiends, I am merely trying to obtain your wonderful soul through my devious wit.” Hyungwon gazed at her through hooded eyes. “It’s plain to see that I am a rookie in this field. Green around the ears, you could say.”

It was clear the girl understood that Hyungwon was, in fact, making fun of her earlier accusations against his person. The fiend had no intention of denying it should she ask. He may have been a demon, but he was no liar.

“...why the hell do you want to listen to me so much?”

Her voice, curious, cut through the quiet and seemed to echo off the walls. Yes. It certainly had been years since he’d last heard another voice other than his own. Too many years. Hyungwon wasn’t about to let an opportunity like this slip through his fingertips.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m bored out of my gourd and your voice is quite pleasant to listen to.”

Hyungwon noted the soft flush that tinted the girl’s cheeks. She was clearly an innocent thing, this child of man. It was simply too amusing to tease her in every manner he could think of.

She puffed out her cheeks again. “Liar!”

“I truly want to listen,” he said softly, “would you be so kind as to indulge this fledgling of a demon just this once?”

The girl seemed to be considering it. What a treat! And she was kind if she was, in fact, considering his request. Had the world decided to give Hyungwon a break from the monotony that was his existence inside these weathered walls and his circular prison?

“I might have a story that is appropriate.” She placed a finger on her chin. “I believe it’s a story from one of the books I read a lot when I was small.”

Hyungwon gave a gentle clap of his hands, leaning forward as he waited for her to continue. There wasn’t a need for him to be pushy. He was getting his way, albeit roundabout in fashion, but he would still obtain what he desired in the end. Short-term goals would bear fruit to long lasting happiness. Or some such drivel.

Had he made that up just now? It wouldn’t have surprised him.

“There was once a cobbler who lived in a village. He didn’t have a girl and it forced him into a sad state of affairs.”

“He didn’t have a girl?” The fiend frowned. “What’s that mean? Don’t human men pride themselves in having sons? Who cares if he didn’t have a daughter?”

The girl scoffed, rolling her eyes while crossing her arms over her chest. “He didn’t have a sweetheart. A wife!”

Hyungwon parted his lips in realization. “Ah, I see.” He, once again, had to bite back the urge to laugh at her displeased expression. “Continue.”

“Anyway, so the man was poor and he was trying to find work. But no one in the village needed their shoes fixed so he started traveling to another village.”

“Well that’s stupid.” Hyungwon brushed a hand through his fringe. “He should’ve just gone around messing up everyone’s shoes if he needed work. No sense leaving for something so trivial.”

“The cobbler,” she continued, ignoring him, “traveled through a dense forest filled with fog. It soon fell dark but he had to keep going until he reached the next village over. On the road, he met a man with a cloak. The cobbler, desperate for work, asked the man if he needed his shoes fixed. The man in the cloak replied saying that he didn’t have any shoes that needed fixing but he could really use a new pair of shoes.”

Not sure where the tale was headed, Hyungwon stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and rocked back on his heels. It was too early to decide what was actually going to happen so he wouldn’t make any judgments. Not yet.

The girl shuffled forward, squatting down on the ground as she picked up a few dead leaves. “That offer was no good for the cobbler because, well, he’s a cobbler. Not a shoe maker. So he politely declined and proceeded to head down the road. He travels a little further and he meets another man with a cloak. Again, the cobbler asks if the man needs his shoes worked on and the man in the cloak replied that he could really use a new pair of shoes. So the cobbler politely bids the man farewell and continues down the path. He moves even further down the path and, once more, he meets a man with a cloak on the side of the road...”

Hyungwon felt a sneer tugging at his lips. Oh, I know where this is going, he thought bitterly.

“The cobbler finally relents and asks the man what he would give him if he were to get the man a new pair of shoes and the man in the cloak replies ‘Anything’. So the cobbler offers to buy him a pair of shoes and bring them back by sunset the next day. The man in the cloak gives him a bag of coins, taking note of his silver eyes, and the cobbler returns to the village. But as he starts to head back, he notices that the road has changed once more and it is no longer familiar to him.”

The fiend snorted. Yup. This is exactly where I thought it was going. Sighing, he waited for the girl to continue but saw her peering up at him in an almost accusatory manner. “So what happened with the cobbler? Did he ever make it back to the village?”

The girl stood up, dusting off the backs of her legs. “Nope. He wasn’t able to leave the forest and, therefore, was unable to obtain the shoes he promised. He was trapped and damned for eternity.”

“So what you’re saying,” he began, narrowing his eyes a measure, “is that for all you know, I’ve already trapped you. Is that right?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not sure what you’re capable of and I don’t want to know. Not really.” She gave him a pointed look. “Something’s odd about you.”

Hyungwon sighed, unable to force the smile back from twitching at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve been called a great many things in my lifetime, Human, and odd is definitely not one of them.” He scoffed. “As for that story, that’s hardly what fiends are like, you know.”

“You’re the first one I’ve ever met so I have no choice but to believe the stories.”

“They’re called ‘Old Wives Tales’ for a reason, you daft human.”

He met her glare with what he hoped was one of his own. His kind already had a bad reputation and for good reason. But adding fuel to the already blazing inferno was madness. The least he could do was straighten out this girl’s silly thoughts with the actual truth. Especially if he wanted her to trust him just a little bit more.

Yes. Obtaining her trust was vital. Because without it, Hyungwon wouldn’t be able to obtain his true goal.

“Well,” he began, sighing through his teeth, “thank you for sharing that lovely tale.”

The girl’s posture relaxed some and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling. Ah, yes. The little game of push and pull. If he pushed too roughly, the girl would flee and his chances right along with her.

“Do you want me to tell you another one?”

Hyungwon raised his brows a measure. If he pulled too hard, he would rouse her suspicion. For a moment, their gazes lingered before he averted his eyes to look at the dead leaves on the ground.

“No. I’m fine.”

“Okay then.” Her feet shuffled along the stone flooring, causing him to whip his head up. “I’m gonna go now.”

It was like a gong went off in Hyungwon’s head. His heart slammed against his chest, causing pain to cluster up around his ribcage. Everything felt like it was in slow motion, as though he were running through the ocean. The girl’s eyes were the last thing he saw before she fully turned away from him.

Hyungwon hadn’t meant to take that long step forward, practically lunging. He had no intention of reaching his hand out to her retreating form. He wasn’t a fool. He was clear on where he was and what his predicament entailed. Hyungwon knew how much space he actually had. He knew exactly what would happen the moment he touched that invisible barrier.

“Wait! Don’t go!”

And yet he extended his arm even further - the tips of his fingers crossing over that forbidden meter.

The wave of pain that hit him was automatic. A small red and orange flame ignited around his fingers and knuckles as the smell of his flesh roasting assaulted his nostrils. His skin sizzled and popped, peeling back to reveal the sinews of his muscles. Hyungwon yanked his hand back like a spring-loaded bolt released from a crossbow. He fell to his knees, tears leaking from his eyes and streaming down his cheeks as he hissed and cradled his burning hand against his chest. The magic would not burn his clothes, but the flame collected below his sternum burned just as deadly.

He heard shuffling in front of him and he strained to open one eye to peer up at the human girl. There was a mixture of concern and confusion dancing over her expression. It angered him. It tickled his ire and it was at that moment that Hyungwon remembered why he was so desperate to keep her there.

“You’re really stuck here?”

It was clear her earlier disbelief was a bit more genuine since she was able to witness the truth of his unfortunate situation.

Yes. That’s right. I know why I want her to stay here...to be close to me… Hyungwon smothered down the snarl that was building inside of his throat. To rend her.

The irony of it all was comedic at best. Hyungwon saw the vines crawling down the pillars and grass poking through the rocks on the ground. He watched the world crumble around him outside of that wretched ring and he could do nothing to stop it. After years of staring at the same fucking walls and floors and cracked windows, there was a living and breathing human standing before him.

Comedy.

The years damned him. They cut and clawed beneath his skin, reaching for his desolating blood. The scars were invisible but it didn’t make them any less real. Those phantom aches ripped and tore through what strength existed inside of Hyungwon’s heart, shattering the few glimmers of hope that threatened to sparkle inside of his very soul.

The girl squatted down in front of him so they were eye-level with each other. “...how long have you been in there?”

“Long enough to beg! Long enough, you hear?!” A fang poked out from beneath his upper lip. “Too long I’ve been trapped in this stinking pile.” The heat continued to radiate from his palm against his chest. “It doesn’t matter to you anyway!”

Her brows furrowed. “I wanna know.”

“Well I’m not gonna tell, you got it?!”

She shrank back a bit. “S-Sorry, Sir…”

Hyungwon blinked, feeling his expression relax. “It’s ‘Sir’, now?”

He couldn’t hide the venom in his words. His hand hurt too much. Peeking at his hand, he saw it was clicking and stuttering from the effects of the magical flames. His vision blurred momentarily through the onset of tears. It was sizzling and small blazes danced between the webbing of his fingers. Hyungwon opened his mouth, sliding his tongue over the digits to soothe the burns. He glanced at the girl who continued to remain silent as he lapped the flames from the back of his hand.

“...are you okay?”

“I’m a fiend, am I not? I heal fast.” Sucking on his ring finger, he squinted at her. “I’ll be fine after a moment.”

His fingers continued to pop and snap in the joints and he whistled cool air through each digit while gathering himself back up to his feet. The girl did the same almost immediately. He watched her flatten her palms over the fronts of her skirts. As seconds passed between them, Hyungwon felt his skin repairing itself and the nerves were screaming at him less and less.

And pull.

“Are you going to stay?”

“I…” The girl sighed, resting a hand on her hip. “...I suppose I could.”

“Oh.” He blinked. He was actually a little surprised by her answer. “...Thank you.”

She reached up to rest a hand on the back of her neck, her face lifting to the hole in the ceiling. “I’m actually lost right now.”

Hyungwon barked out a laugh, startling the girl. “Lost huh? Well isn’t that ironic?” The girl pursed her lips together, obviously confused by his sudden outburst. He chuckled, snapping his fingers and letting the pointer digit remain extended. “Don’t look so confused, Human. The irony is quite clear.” This time, the girl squinted. “Oh come now, just think about it!” Leaning forward, he flashed her a smile that showcased his fangs. “After all, I cannot be lost. Forever and ever I will know where I am and where I am…” He leaned back, shoving his hand into his pocket. “...is stuck!”

He laughed again but the girl didn’t seem impressed with his observation. In fact, she didn’t seem much of anything at all. Deciding he hadn’t had enough of poking at her, he hummed as he licked the swell of his lower lip.

“In fact, I know this place so intimately that you would blush like a young school girl experiencing her first crush.”

He watched her cheeks flush a shade deeper as she shook her head emphatically. Hyungwon was simply too entertained by this human. She stomped her foot in protest as her whining noises filled the nearly empty space all around them.

“I-If you know where this is, do you know where Mire is?”

Hyungwon tilted his head to the side. “I know mires. I don’t know this Mire you speak of.”

The girl’s nose wrinkled a bit. “What’s that?”

“You know? Mires?” He folded his arms across his chest. “Do you follow?”

She shook her head and it was suddenly clear to Hyungwon that she was having a hard time keeping her eyes fresh. Just how long had she been wandering around lost until she stumbled her way into his makeshift prison? Not wanting the girl to fall asleep while standing up, he decided to change the topic so that she could stay awake.

“So what’s Mire?”

“Where I was born. Where I live.”

He tapped his foot. “Is it a town? A new town?”

She shook her head again. “No, more like a city. It’s been there for a while.”

“Is that right?” Just before he glanced up toward the ceiling, Hyungwon caught the tail end of the girl nodding. “Did you know this place was once a mire?”

“I don’t know what...well, what is that, Sir?”

Hyungwon sighed, unfolding his arms to run his fingers through his hair. “It’s a dead and wet place.” He closed his eyes. “I, too, was born in a mire.” Pausing, he peered down at the girl who looked a little more awake than she had been a few minutes ago. “Would you like to hear a story?”

The girl blinked, opened her mouth, then closed it. He could tell she was fighting with something and he smirked, amused at her reticence.

“W-What do you want for it?”

His smirk widened, allowing some of his teeth to show. “Your company from morning until noon.”

Her brows furrowed. “Is that all?”

“Indeed.”

The girl scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “Fine, deal.”

The entire area gave off a soft booming sound. Her voice, her very words, were spoken like a knell. Carrying a certain weight to it, it resonated deeply and seemed to amplify the space surrounding them. Echoing off the stone, ash shook off the walls. It startled her and what small yelp gathered in her throat was smothered by her hands as she covered her mouth.

Deal, huh? Hyungwon smiled as he saw the sweat visibly slide down her cheek.

“Did I just...did I just do--?”

He chuckled. “Oh yes, you did.” Clasping his palms together, he pressed his fingers to his chin as his smile grew a little wider. “You made a pact.”

He watched as the girl groaned, collapsing to the ground in an immodest heap and gathering up her pack into her lap. She rifled through it until she found what she was searching for - a handful of wild berries and chestnuts she must have gathered while roaming through the hills and mountains before finding that place. Even from his vantage point, Hyungwon could gather that the chestnuts were picked from the ground or fresh from the branch and the berries were a little mushed together from being tussled around in the pack. He could only guess how the taste would be.

“Would you like the berries cooled or the chestnuts roasted?”

The girl scoffed, popping a plump berry into her mouth. “Why? So you can wiggle out another pact from me? No thank you!”

Hyungwon laughed while shaking his head. “To be fair, you sealed the deal with your own words, did you not?”

“That was--!”

“Yes, yes,” he said, holding up his hands in mock-surrender, “I understand. A bit of mischief on part. So, to make up for it, I will chill the berries or roast the chestnuts for free.” He curled one hand into a fist, leaving only his index finger pointed upward. “But you can only pick one.”

She looked into the small bushel of berries and chestnuts, attempting to make a decision. She separated them in her lap while pulling out a small handkerchief and placed the berries on the cloth. Then she gathered up the chestnuts in her palms while standing and Hyungwon waited for her to approach. He held his own palms out as she took a few steps forward. Her hands crossed the invisible barrier and hovered over his. She must have been troubled by his smile because she dropped the chestnuts into his hands and all but hopped a full foot back away from him.

It didn’t take Hyungwon long to crack open the chestnuts and peel back the shells. Soon there was a small pile of chestnut hulls gathered at his feet and the pale yellow flesh of the nuts looked like milky pearls in his hands.

“This won’t take long, Human, but it will still take a moment. Might we chat some?”

“Um...sure?”

“Then have a seat.” He gestured to the ground. “Where were we?”

She sat down on the ground, resting her chin on her knees as she wrapped her skirts around her legs. “Mire...something?”

“Ah, yes. That’s right. I can tell you a story about mires in exchange for your story. Though, instead of a story, maybe a bit of banter? I can save the story for a little later.”

He watched her nod, eyes half-lidded. “What do you wanna talk about?”

Hyungwon snickered. “Mires.”

“Oh...right.”

Heat radiated from his palms as small flames gathered around the chestnuts cradled inside. If he pushed too hard, the fire would scorch the nuts. Hyungwon was in no rush. He could afford to take his time. He’d waited this long, after all. What was another few minutes?

“My mire…” Pursing his lips together, he tried to come up with something interesting to say and realized there was nothing. “...well, to be quite honest, there isn’t much to say about it.”

“You said you were born there?”

“Yes,” he replied, not meaning for his tone to sound as somber as it did, “like all fiends, I was born in waste.” Glancing at the girl, he noticed she’d lifted her head up a bit to peer up at him. “You’ve read about us, right? About how we make the land barren wherever we go, unconsciously draining the earth of life when we stand still for too long?”

Her brows furrowed. “Why is that?”

“For sustenance.”

“Ah…”

“The land is pallid and the lofts caliginous at best. The air crawls low to the ground, making everything damp with miasma. Flora is choked to its last breath, made sterile until it, too, is laid to waste.” Hyungwon felt his face twisting into a scowl.

“That sounds...uh…” The girl attempted to bring some levity to what he knew as an awkward conversation.

“It sounds hideous.” There was no sense in trying to pretty it up. “I know it does because it is.”

“Did you grow up there?”

“Yes, I did. Had a mother and a father too. Shocking, I know.” Again, he sighed, feeling an empty smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I couldn’t help thinking once if that was where I was going to be when I got older. A damned mire.”

Guess not.

“What was it like?”

“Mind-numbing.” Hyungwon scoffed. “Maybe this wasn’t a good topic to discuss after all.”

The girl shrugged. “You just don’t wanna talk about it. That’s okay.”

“It’s not a matter of it being ‘okay’ as there just isn’t much of anything to talk about. Not really.” His gaze shifted to his shoes. “...it’s all so colorless.”

She reached down and plucked a berry from the handkerchief, tossing it into her mouth. It was a little adorable. Hyungwon continued to roast the chestnuts in his palms.

“So, what about yours?”

“Huh?” She paused mid-chew. “My what?”

“Your mire, Human. Do keep up.”

She gave a shrug with one of her shoulders. “It’s nothing special. Just your typical city.”

“Your typical isn’t the same as mine.” Huffing air out of his nostrils, he rolled his eyes. “I’ve been stuck here longer than you might think.”

The girl lifted her head toward the ceiling. “It’s big and loud and people are everywhere you look. Smoke and brick and not a stem of grass anywhere.” She frowned as she lowered her gaze back down to the ground. “...my mom and pop have a farm near there because they’re crazy.”

“Is that where your scent is from?”

She whipped her head up at him, eyes a little wide. “My scent?”

“You smell like horses and herbs. It’s quite cute.” He sniffed a little. “You also smell like some kind of fermented flora, but I don’t know where that comes from.”

“The city is pretty modern. I work at a textile mill every Tuesday.” Her expression looked a little worn just from mentioning the work.

Hyungwon grinned. “Sounds rough.” She nodded and he huffed a small laugh. “Very rough.”

“Cut it out, will you? I’m a hard worker!”

Her words came out a bit slurred, but it was clear that the girl was determined to appear strong in front of him. He wanted to pat her head and reassure her that she was a good girl, but magical enchantments and all that.

“I believe you.” This time he flashed a playful smile. “And as a reward for your noble efforts, I believe it’s time for your story!” The girl shrugged as Hyungwon cleared his throat loudly and rolled his shoulders backward a bit, holding out his fire-laden palms in a dramatic fashion. “Did you know that stars sometimes act as rain in the night sky?”

She lifted her head up some. “Do you mean like a meteor shower?”

Hyungwon sucked air through his teeth sharply to hush her.

The girl pouted. “I’ve heard of it, but never seen it.”

“Well, I’ve heard of it and know it because I’ve seen it.” He lifted his palms up, letting the flames dance in front of his face as he peered into it. “Just think of it, hm? Thousands of lights bleeding along a cold cerulean tapestry above you, falling ever so slowly… They fall so slow, in fact, that you are barely aware of their drag. Imagine it.”

She nodded slowly and also in a different way; pulled into his memory.

“And then...FLASH!” Hyungwon flared the fire in his hands, causing the chestnuts to split and crackle. The girl jumped, the light catching in her eyes. “Flash! Flash! Flash!” He laughed as he made the flames jump in time like a heartbeat, licking up and dancing wildly. “Each brilliant streak cuts through the lights, free and untethered from anything! And then...” The magic in his palm faded, then sighed. “...it dies.”

Pulsing.

Fading.

Pulsing.

Fading.

The girl’s eyes glazed over.

“Just like this…”

Like the final beatings of a heart…

“Despite how slowly they appeared and fell, death is all too swift for these stars.” His eyes shifted from the flames and he peered at the girl. “Tell me, Human...is that sorrowful to you?”

“What?” Once again, the girl blinked. But this time, she bit her lower lip as she attempted to think of a response. “It is.”

Hyungwon smiled. “There isn’t a right or wrong answer, you know? You don’t have to think of it like some test.” He gave a slight tilt of his head. “You think it's sorrowful?”

She nodded. “I do.”

He hummed. “That’s interesting. Very interesting.” He doused the fire with a mere thought, letting the chestnuts cool. He blew on them for good measure. “These are done.” Hyungwon held the chestnuts out to her. “All that’s left now is for you to stay.”

Squinting, the girl waited a moment but eventually shuffled forward on her hands and knees. Stopping at the edge of the circle, she took the fruits from his hands. She looked at him, wearing a bit of an ugly expression.

“What?”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she settled onto the ground and continued to look at him; though less ugly. It was apparent that she was wondering something. Eventually, her gaze lowered to the nuts in her hands and her expression began to soften. She shelled one and tossed it into her mouth, chewing quietly as her face flushed naturally. Hyungwon felt a measure of amusement as he watched her Adam’s Apple lift up and fall as she swallowed. The girl shifted back a couple of feet.

“...what part of that was the story, Sir?”

“Well look at that,” he replied slowly, “you aren’t entirely daft.” Crouching down, he crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees. “Call it a ‘prologue’ of sorts. There is definitely a story here, I promise.” Again, he clasped his hands together, letting them settle in the space between his legs. “I told you I’ve seen this, yes?”

Blinking, the girl nodded.

“...I wasn’t alone when I saw these stars. I was there with another...a ‘Miss’, if you will.” He felt his brows furrow slightly. “She was fair, young...and human.” Closing his eyes, he swallowed the lump in his throat. “She told wonderful stories and we danced together under the moonlight...pressed against each other in the shadows unseen. She was a seamstress in the village and an orphan but that didn’t make her any less radiant in my eyes.” Opening his eyes, Hyungwan stared at his hands. He could only imagine what he looked like at that moment. “It wasn’t often, but when she felt sad, I would often take her out to the fields to see those stars. I figured the beauty of it would ease her woes, if even just a little.”

The girl’s brows were constrained and she chewed sadly. Hyungwon lifted a hand up and waved it back and forth.

“Not to worry, Human. It did.”

He turned his face up toward the hole in the ceiling. The sky was taking on a bit of an orange tint. The sun was setting off in the distance somewhere, but the soft blue melded with the amber pigment to indicate that it was still a few hours away.

“I’ve never understood the customs of man. I’ve always been free-thinking and never bound to the thoughts and actions of others. There’s just no need for it; not for a being like me.” He frowned. “So when a disease struck the village and I used my powers to heal the sick, instead of celebrating like she did, they did not take too kindly to my actions.”

“What happened?”

Feeling his eyes narrow, Hyungwon craned his neck to look back at the girl as confusion painted over her expression. “What happened, you ask?” Scoffing, he felt a soft ringing in his ears. “They claimed I would bring karmic destruction to their village. She wouldn’t hear of such slander against my name and defended me against the villagers, despite me being an outsider; a fiend. They accused her of being bewitched and tainted by my unknown power and while I was out collecting herbs for some more natural remedies in the nearby mountains, she was dragged to the village square in the middle of the night where she was raped and beaten to death.”

The girl gasped, the chestnut clutched in her fingers hovering just near her parted mouth.

“I returned to find her dead in the streets - her body treated like little less than refuse. The other villagers said nothing and the council members did nothing.” He bit his lower lip. “...I carried her body outside of the village and buried her in a field where I last saw her smile - where I knew the wild flowers would grow come Spring...when life would be renewed.”

When he looked back at the girl, she’d closed her mouth into a frown.

“I came back to her spot a century later and found a chestnut tree growing there.” His eyes narrowed further. “It was the ugliest thing I’d seen, all gnarled and twisted. Enraged, I razed that entire tree from the bark, the trunk, branches and leaves. I even burned the roots.”

I would’ve shredded up the roots, but I didn’t want to disturb her final resting place…

“For all the good it did, the tree remained. It was alive, bore fruit, and was even uglier than before.” He laughed. “Isn’t that the most wonderful story?”

“NO!” The girl yelled so loudly that it stung his ears, but he refrained from reacting. “Didn’t you mess up those guys? The ones who did it?”

Hyungwon’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean by ‘mess up’?”

“You’re a fiend, aren’t you?” He could see the spidery red veins inside the whites of her eyes angrily creeping toward her irises. “You didn’t eat them?!”

“I did not eat them.” His reply was simple; hollow. He didn’t even bother to hide it. “What happened to them doesn’t matter to the story.”

“I wanna know!”

“And I don’t want to tell.”

“Ugh! Are you serious?!” The girl stood up in a flash and Hyungwon followed her movements with a shift of his head. “You know, when kids in the neighborhood mess with my little siblings, I beat their little asses with a stick!” She pointed at him. “That’s what love is! It’s sticking up for the people you care about!”

Love? His ears perked up and he felt his frown return. “Is that what you gathered from this story? That I fancied her?”

The girl rolled her eyes as if annoyed by having to answer at all. “Well obviously that’s the case, isn’t it?”

“It’s my story, Human, not yours. Come off it.” He huffed air harshly from his mouth. “It is an old story and just that, a story, so just stop…”

“What?!” The girl angrily threw the chestnut in her hand against the wall beside her, her expression sour. “Fine.”

This time Hyungwon rolled his eyes. “I was just trying to entertain you since you looked like you were about to fall asleep.”

“That’s stupid.”

“What was that?” He rose to his feet, kicking up dead leaves around him. “I don’t want to hear that coming from your dumb mouth, you little twit!”

The girl closed her eyes, folding her arms roughly against her chest. “It’s stupid. It’s stupid so just forget it!”

“Are you starting?” He narrowed his eyes and took a step forward. “I will tear out your tongue, you hear me?” He saw the fear filling her eyes as her hands slowly unfolded and fell limply at her sides. “The last thing you’ll be worrying about is your soul since I’ll tear you limb from limb and there won’t be anything left to hold that soul in if you fucking start with me, you got that?!”

The way the girl visibly shook grounded Hyungwon. He blinked, shaking his head, and then chuckled a little as he leaned back. Perhaps a little less push was in order at that moment. He hadn’t meant to get so worked up over the girl’s words but they rattled him somehow.

“You know,” he began, looking her over from head to foot, “you quivering like that is a little endearing. You already know that I can’t move from this spot.”

She swallowed. “It just...sounded so real.”

He gave an amused chortle. “Did it?” He sighed, rubbing at the back of his head. “Tell you what, to make up for it, how about I chill those berries of yours? I’ll even toss them to you if you’re too scared to come close to me.”

“I’m not scared!” Her head rocked a little bit. “...but I’m kinda tired. Could you toss them anyway?”

“Sure. But only if you agree to stay with me until sunset.”

That seemed to jolt her awake a little. “Is it noon already?” He nodded and she sighed, collapsing once again to the ground and huddling up her skirts around her knees. He could tell her vision was swimming while trying to stay awake. “Fine. I’ll stay with you. Deal.”

The ballroom rattled with a sound. She wasn’t surprised by it that time. Instead, she leaned forward and all but shoved the handkerchief covered berries into the magical circle. The girl shuffled away, but Hyungwon noticed how much more sluggish her movements were that time.

“How long have you been away from your Mire, Human?” He gathered the berries up and let the cold magic collect inside of his palms.

“I don’t know…” She shrugged, struggling to keep her eyes open. “Two days?”

He plucked one of the berries from his palm and tossed it to the girl who was just barely able to catch it. He grinned. “Isn’t that a long time?”

She shook her head, popping the berry into her mouth. “Not really, no.”

“It’s a joke, Human.” He raised a brow and sighed. “It isn’t a crime to laugh.”

The girl frowned. “If I laughed it would be like me laughing at you.”

“Ha!” The bark of laughter was sudden, surprising even him. “Answering with an even better joke instead of laughing? Wow, you really are a comedian!”

She tilted her head slightly. “...huh? What better joke?”

“My existence.” He tossed her another berry and chuckled again. “This situation and my existence, together, is the greatest joke in history itself. I know this and I’ve already missed half of it!”

“Stop.” The girl turned her head away, clearly upset.

“Such a soft girl.” Hyungwon regarded her in earnest. “I keep searching through my memories for another like you, but I’m finding nothing. And I have so many memories. So many. Travels, delights, regrets…” He averted his gaze, a smile pulling at his lips a measure. “A girl shouldn’t be so soft. The world is so rough, it will just shape you in an ugly way.”

He heard her breathing languidly, watching her sink into her arms a little more from his peripheral. Again, he sighed.

“Or it was. If you don’t know about mires, maybe the world has become soft now too.” He cut his eyes back to her form. “That would certainly explain you.”

She blinked but said nothing.

“Do you know why I laughed earlier when you mentioned souls? Do you know why I even joke about them?”

Again she blinked. And again, she said nothing.

“So many of us fiends are obsessed with souls. But they have to be extraordinary.” Hyungwon gave her the once over. “Yours feels completely unremarkable. It lacks the maturity and spirit that comes with age and experience.”

He threw another berry at her and, surprisingly, she was able to catch it but doesn’t partake. Instead, it lingered in her palm before falling to the ground, forgotten beside her.

“The souls of newborns won’t do anything for a fiend. They are special though. Their souls are quite pure.” He watched her back rise and fall steadily, her eyes closed and he knew she was sleeping. His eyes narrowed as he chucked another berry at her, watching it bounce off her hair and hit the ground. “...exquisite.”

A flash of anger ripped across his chest and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to crush the berries in between his palms. He wasn’t sure if doing so would break the pact he’d made. A part of him knew that it wouldn’t but he still couldn’t will himself to actually do it.

Even though his hands were cold, he wanted nothing more than to scorch this...thing in front of him. This “girl” who dared to show up and rekindle hope inside of him!

I should’ve snatched her when she was at the edge!

But was it that simple?

Does she have to agree to exchange her life for mine in the circle?

Was he forgetting the conditions?

With one hand still cradling the berries and cooling them, he raised his other hand to cover his face - glaring at the girl through his fingers. If he could just lunge through there and take her, he would do it without a second thought. A rightful punishment for entering his space and throwing his emotions into a tailspin.

His body still felt the stinging sensation of when he’d burned himself just moments before. If he attempted to plunge through the barrier, it would tear him apart - scorch his flesh down to the marrow of his bones and cause his eyeballs to explode like grapes in his sockets. The pain would be never ending and he would still lunge through and take that girl! He’d do it a thousand times over to get out of that blighted circle!

DAMMIT! Why didn’t I grab her before? WHY DID I HESITATE?!

A new thought struck him, rattling Hyungwon to his core. When was the last time he’d been worked up like this? Felt this much passion, rage and sorrow? It felt like bile on the back of his tongue and he wanted nothing more than to bite it off and drown in his own blood. Anything to give him the sweet release of death.

But that failed many times. He was stuck in more ways than one. He couldn’t be allowed outside of that cursed ring and because he was a fiend, he was bound.

Bound to a life that was meaningless. It had no meaning to him.

I want to die! Tears filled his eyes as his rage began to reach a boiling point. Years of whining silence - every single day! ...what’s a day? Two days, she said! What are days? What are months? What are centuries - centuries? CENTURIES?! ...has it been even longer than centuries?!

And then the quiet settled into the space, a soft wind kicking up the leaves against the stones. There would be embers in his hand, smokey and harsh to his eyes. Had he really spent his days endlessly like that, watching as time marched on without him able to participate?

He used to scream just to hear a voice again.

...what happened to my life?

Hyungwon felt his jaw quiver as his eyes grew warm.

I wish you hadn’t come here…

Removing his hand from his face, he stared at that girl who looked so peaceful as she slept. So peaceful…

Peaceful little shit!

“Wake up!” He threw several berries at the girl, but she didn’t move. She continued to sleep. “Wake up!”

Another and another.

“Look at me!” He hurled more berries at her. “This body doesn’t grant the peace of sleep!” Again and again he threw them. “I haven’t slept a minute, you rotten spawn of an overgrown sow! Not even a second! I have always been awake!” Mirthless laughter spilled from Hyungwon’s mouth. “Two days?! You miserable little wretch! Had I only been here two days, I’d empty a pub in minutes, do you hear me?! Damn you!”

He continued to throw the berries.

“When you die, I’ll find and spit on your grave!”

And he also continued to miss.

“I’ll plant a chestnut tree there and rip the roots from the ground, desecrating your remains!”

Throw after throw after throw; miss after miss after miss.

“I hate you!”

This was foreign to him; these swirls of emotions. Was he sobbing now? A fiend, sobbing?

He dropped his arms to the ground, crying in shakes.

Hyungwon wasn’t sure how he was supposed to handle it.

Because, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember a time he’d ever cried.

~s.a.~

The fog of sleep started to lift from Sabine’s eyes. Darkness covered her vision and she slowly lifted her neck so she could peer at the world around her. Dizziness pulled at the corners of her mind. It was always like this for her when she was just getting up. Slow to rise, that’s what her mother called her. Parting her lips, Sabine noticed how dry her mouth was too. It was pretty awful, in fact.

Smacking her lips, she absentmindedly rubbed her eyes. Exhaustion continued to drape over her like a wet blanket. She wasn’t able to fathom why she was so tired.

“Mama?”

Part of her thought everything she’d experienced was just a dream. A really bad dream. But as her eyes regained focus, Sabine took in the sight of the broken world around her and held back a sigh. It wasn’t a dream after all. The situation, in its entirety, was very real.

I can’t believe I got lost on the way to Evergreen…

She frowned, recalling how insistent her mother was about taking the horse with her, claiming that she would be able to get to her destination and back before day’s end. A lot of good it did her, seeing as it got spooked by a crow and took off to God only knew where. That animal bolted off a good mile before bucking her clear out of the saddle.

I’ll whip that sorry nag into next week if I see it again or my name isn’t Sabine Archer!

Sabine didn’t mean it, but it felt good to think about it.

Again, she rubbed at her eyes to make sure they were completely in focus. It didn’t take her long to notice the man from before sitting in front of her. She wasn’t sure if he was asleep or not and if he was, part of her didn’t want to disturb him. Her eyes lifted to the sky and she noticed that it wasn’t quite sunset yet. At least, that’s what she assumed. But she wasn’t a fiend either. They were far better at figuring out the time than she could.

“Sir, are you asleep?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

She just figured it was the case because his eyes were closed.

“I can’t sleep.”

Sabine furrowed her brows, flinching at how icy his tone was. Something rolled out of her hair. When it dropped on the ground, she noticed that it was one of the berries she’d been carrying. But why were they in her hair? Sabine carded her fingers through her dark curls, finding two more berries tangled near the ends. Sitting up a little straighter, she took another look around her and noticed that berries were littered all around her, forming a semi-circle like a child’s terrible attempt at some old ritual.

Looking back at the man, she blinked. Whoa...did he throw these at me?

She arched an eyebrow and took a moment to gloss over his appearance. His cheeks were wet, his nose was red, and his own brows were furrowed rather deeply. Sabine couldn’t help thinking that the man looked a lot like one of her younger brothers who’d fallen off the curb back when he was learning how to ride that silly bicycle of his. She couldn’t really think of what to tell him, so she decided to say what she always said.

“Did you do something bad? Tell me the truth.”

He opened his eyes and cut those orbs of silver at her harshly. “Piss off.”

Sabine winced, even though she didn’t mean to. It was clear that he was in that mood again.

“Um, look… If you got mad ‘cause I--”

“What’d I just say?” He said it like it was a fact and not a question. “Piss. Off.”

Sabine felt a lump starting to form in her throat. What’d I do? I was just trying to be nice, freaking jerk!

Huffing, she folded her arms across her chest. “You want me outta here then?”

Instead of answering her, he shifted his gaze to the floor and didn’t say another word. Sabine could feel her nerves starting to climb. What the hell time was it anyway? Again, she looked through the hole in the ceiling and squinted. There was no way that it was sunset. The sky wasn’t amber enough.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tried to talk to him again. “Listen, I don’t think that I can le--”

“Leave.”

“But the deal’s not --!”

“Leave.”

“If I mess up the --”

“Leave.”

She didn’t know what the hell to do. She didn’t want to leave! Sabine knew if she messed up a deal with a fiend before it was complete, she’d go straight to Hell. Or was it worse than that? She shuddered to think if it was actually worse...

I’m too young to have my soul damned for eternity! I can’t just walk out!

Suddenly, a new thought occurred to Sabine and she scoffed. This wasn’t the first time she’d experienced tantrums like this, not even from him. What fear curled itself into the pit of her stomach began to deflate.

“You’re kiddin’.”

Calling him on his bluff probably wasn’t the smartest move, but Sabine decided to do it anyway. Because as she looked by his feet, her eyes began to shake. There weren’t any more berries in the handkerchief. The deal was that he had to cool the berries and toss them over to her, to which he did in a sense. The fiend kept his part of the deal which meant, in turn, Sabine had to do the same. Luck wasn’t on her side when it came to simply walking away.

“I can’t leave, man!”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s ‘man’, now?”

This was getting ridiculous. Sabine threw her hands into the air in frustration. “Sorry, God!”

The fiend averted his gaze. “Leave. I want you to be leaving, understand? Get the hell up and walk out of here.” He closed his eyes. “Go and be damned, you villainess.”

Sabine just looked at him. Clenching her teeth together, she did her best to ignore how wild her heart was slamming all over her chest and ribcage. This wasn’t like the other outbursts he’d thrown at her earlier. This was real. Very real. She didn’t have to wonder what he’d do to her if he wasn’t tethered to that spot he was sitting at.

“Burn in Hell, you dog. Lay there and rot with the rest of the rotten filth that is your ilk. It’s where you belong.”

Now she was pissed. “Why don’t you just calm the hell down, huh?!” Picking up his head from his arms, he glared at her. It’d be a lie if Sabine wasn’t feeling afraid again, but she refused to back down. “Calm down, alright? Acting the hell up and for what?”

“You really are an idiot.”

She balked. “W-Well, you’re crazy! Why the hell are you mad at me, anyway?” Her anger was starting to rise, quickly smothering the fear. She’d never been so insulted in all her life. “Why’d you even talk to me in the first place? Whaddya want, dammit!”

Her mother would have been very disappointed at how filthy her mouth was at that moment.

The man said nothing. He just continued to peer back at her with those silver eyes. Sabine was too upset to give her oncoming tirade a pause. She was about to give that demon a piece of her mind.

“You’re lonely, right? That’s it, isn’t it?!”

She saw him starting to get up and Sabine decided she wasn’t about to let that fiend look that far down on her! She stood up to her full height and didn’t care that he was still taller than her. To emphasize that she wasn’t afraid, she stepped forward and puffed her chest out. She wouldn’t let him get the best of her.

“Listen up! If you think I’ve got a problem scrappin’ with you, think again! I’ll knock your freaking block off, you got that?” She flung her arm forward and pointed straight up at the man’s face. “You just swore against my family and I’m not gonna stand for it, you hear me?!” Sabine was shaking in her boots but she continued to stand her ground.

“No,” came his icy reply, “I swore against your race.”

Lowering her hand, she swallowed once more but continued to frown.

“Your entire, miserable, sin-hearted race.” He craned his neck, his eyes locking with hers. “Do you know what I’d do once I’m freed from this circle?”

He took a step forward and Sabine took a step back on reflex.

“Yes or no.”

Again, it wasn’t a question. It was a statement; a demand.

She bit her lower lip. “No.”

Leaning forward, just before what she’d guess was the barrier, and let out a harsh huff of air from his nostrils. Sabine swore that the next time he did it, fire and smoke would shoot out. It was cold and warm at the same time. Was that even possible?

She bit down hard on her teeth to keep them from chattering. The last thing she wanted to do was let him know that he was affecting her. Yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away at how menacing he looked towering over her like that.

“I would kill the whole lot of them.” He parted his lips, showing his fangs. “Kill the men, the women, the children. Even the infants. I’d kill them all.” He narrowed his eyes and Sabine was frozen. “To lasses like you, I’d dig my hands straight into their guts, eviscerate their innards string by string and burn them to ashes.”

“I-I…” she stammered.

Sabine’s vision blurred from the onset of tears. What courage she had seemed to evaporate from her body. She’d never felt so small and it embarrassed her. She was the oldest in her family and her parents depended on her to help raise her siblings. They were barely able to make ends meet and she knew the blow that would come with not being able to return home to continue helping her family. She had responsibilities and her siblings always said she was brave - that she’d fight a dragon and win.

All of that pride seeped out of her and disappeared into the cobblestones beneath her feet.

Her tears leaked out of her eyes as she glared back up at the demon. She despised him for making her feel so pathetic in his presence.

“I don’t know what happened to you! I just wanted to know and be nice, even just a little bit.” Tears leaked from her eyes and she furiously wiped them away. “All I can do is say sorry, but I won’t apologize for what anyone else’s done to you! That’s not my responsibility and you can’t make it be mine!”

He leaned back, standing up straight. He breathed out again and this time she really did swear that she saw translucent flames coming out of his mouth; airy and dry. He took a moment to close his eyes, then opened them again. His silver hues were still intense but they were less cold than they had been earlier. He sighed and Sabine could hear just how tired he actually was.

“Are you scared, Human?”

She nodded fast.

“Why?” He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you scared?”

“I-I don’t know!”

“I can’t TOUCH YOU! SEE?!”

In a flash, he pushed his hand toward her face. Sabine’s eyes widened and her entire body locked up instantly. What was she seeing? What in the world was she looking at?!

“I am TRAPPED before here!” he yelled, his voice booming against the walls.

His skin burned off in a bright yellow glow. She could see his muscles, charred and black as they turned inside out. The fire was blazing all over his hand and she saw a hint of white in the middle of all the swirling flames and colors. His bones?

I can’t watch this!

She started to turn away from the spectacle in front of her.

“LOOK!” Sabine gasped, covering her mouth with her palms as his own hand continued to sizzle and burn; the stench of seared meat overwhelming her. But she slowly turned back to face him again. “Don’t you dare look away!”

“Y-Your blood…” She lowered her hands from her face. “...it’s evaporating.”

He grimaced as tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. One dropped, rolling down his cheek and he jerked his hand back as if it were spring-loaded. He clutched it to his chest, cradling it as if it were something precious.

“I can’t leave...understand?” He sighed. “Do you get it now, you rock-headed Human?” He held up the twisted stump sticking to his wrist. “This right here? This is what I’ve known for a long long time.”

Sabine watched as his hand began to come back together; the melted parts splitting and the bones were covered up again. There was a distinct popping noise as it all happened before her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she was amazed or if she was going to be sick right there. She placed a hand over her mouth to keep herself from vomiting all over the floor.

“I can’t kill your people. I want to, but I won’t be able to leave here, got it?”

Swallowing down her urge to throw up, she quickly cleared her throat and mustered up her courage once more. “Why are you trapped there anyway?”

He sighed, his hand forming back into its original shape. “Would you believe me if I said it was a punishment? An accident? Or even an unjust imprisonment?” Lifting his head, he peered up at the sky. “Whatever I say, whatever you believe, it really doesn’t matter. I was trapped here long before your ‘Mire’ came into being.” He closed his eyes. “And so, really, the reasons no longer have meaning…”

She frowned. “I don’t think you’re being honest with me.”

The man scoffed, softer than earlier, as he continued to keep his eyes turned to the sky. “How do you figure that, Human?”

“I told you before that you need to calm the hell down.” Sabine folded her arms across her chest. She was insane for what she was about to ask. “...how do I get you outta there?”

The fiend lowered his head, peering at her with an expression that could only be translated as disbelief. Yeah, Sabine couldn’t believe it either.

After what felt like a small eternity, he shook his head and chuckled. “...you’ve lost it.”

She shook her head. “Nah, I’ve still got it. I know what I asked you. Now tell me how to get you outta there.”

“Then you never had it to begin with.” He squinted at her, suspicious. “You’re touched, aren’t you?”

“I don’t even know what that means!” Sabine pointed at him. “I’m still thinking straight so just tell me already!”

“Hush and listen, you rude little shit.” The snarl in his voice was unmistakable, causing her to lower her hand back down at her side. “Do you even understand what you’re saying?” He leaned forward, scrutinizing her and Sabine felt weird knots forming in her stomach. “Remember what you’re talking to!”

Like she could forget. Honestly, she didn’t know why he was being so stubborn. “I just think that --”

“I didn’t ‘mess them up’, you know?”

She blinked, confused. “Huh?”

“I did not ‘mess up’ the men who raped her. Eating them would have been a mercy.” Sabine watched as he clenched his fists at his sides. “I bore my nails into their sockets and tore off their faces.”

She felt the color drain from her face. “... what ?”

He cut his eyes down at her. “And that’s not all I did.” A sudden gust of wind blew through the empty ballroom, lifting his hair off his ears and forehead. “When I first saw her lying there, body warm only from the bodies of others, eyes clouded over and lifeless, I set the den where she died on fire. I came upon every single person who lived in her town and murdered all of them.”

What moisture was in Sabine’s mouth all but disappeared. Yet she still couldn’t speak.

The fiend continued, his voice filling the silence that seemed to stretch forever between them.

“I torched their homes. I pulled their ribs from their chests.” His eyes took on an ethereal glow. “Crushed their heads, snapped their bones, and ripped off their flesh.” He narrowed those same glowing eyes. “If it tormented them, I did it.”

Sabine felt her legs growing weak and she had to lock her knees in order to remain standing.

“And before you let anything sentimental cross your mind, you’re all the same to me. I killed all of your kind because you’re just one kind: human.” He slowly folded his arms against his chest. “Sex? Age? None of that meant anything to me when I tore them to ribbons.”

Holy shit.

It was the only thought that managed to swim out of the dark empty space threatening to swallow Sabine whole.

“As if to mock me, they gathered at the center of that town where I’d first met her. Because desecrating her body and destroying her wasn’t enough, they had to taint my memory of her as well. So I slowly melted them all to the earth.” He furrowed his brows, the corner of his lip curling up into a sneer. “On the night that she died, I erased that town from records.”

What fighting spirit she had was gone. He’d knocked it completely from her body.

Her lower lip began to tremble. “Why’d you tell me that?”

“You asked.”

��I didn’t want to…” She shook her head roughly, eyes narrowing as she took a step forward. “You didn’t have to tell me all the...the whole story!”

“You’re right, I didn’t,” he said with a shrug, “but didn’t you want to know?”

Her entire body started to vibrate. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I’m a fiend.” He carded his fingers through his bangs. “That’s all there is to it.”

“That’s bull!” She did her best to hide the wobble in her words. “Is that why you got put in here?”

“No.”

She didn’t believe it. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“...holy shit.”

The sigh that pooled from his mouth sounded so heavy and tired. “I’ve done many things in my life, Human. Some found them admirable and others thought them despicable.” He lifted his head to face the ceiling once more and she could swear that his brows were furrowed in pain. “I’ve put a curse on a family for every single one of their generations. I’ve rescued slaves from their tyrannical masters. I’ve ruined a marriage and bonded another; massacred a town and saved a child. I’ve done so many things in my life…” He smiled but there was nothing happy about the gesture. “Of all the things I’ve mentioned, not one of them is the reason that I’m here now.”

Sabine curled her fingers into the fabric of her skirts. “...did you forget?”

He shook his head, lowering it so he could look back down at the floor. “Oh no. I remember it quite clearly.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he put a little bit more weight on his back leg. “But as I said, the reason no longer matters.”

I just...I don’t get it…

“You wanted me to save you, right?” She stared at his broad shoulders as he turned his back to her, frowning. “I’d swear on my family’s good name that that’s what you wanted.”

He didn’t move to look at her and he remained silent. She wasn’t sure if she was frustrated or more curious than she’d been about him all day.

“But now you’re telling me all this mixed up stuff and I just don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to think.” She sighed. “What the heck do you want?”

“You gone.”

Sabine slowly breathed out through her nose and closed her eyes. There was no way that was true. She’d be an idiot to believe that now. She shook her head again before opening her eyes to stare at the fiend’s back.

“You’re lying to me.” She straightened out the sleeves of her blouse and knocked off invisible dust from her skirt. “Sure, I don’t think about complicated things and whatnot, but I know when someone’s lying to me.” Sabine pointed an accusatory finger at him and she didn’t care that his back was still facing her. “Why the hell are you lying to me?” For a second, she thought she saw him flinch before he slowly turned back around to peer at her from over his shoulder. “I know you don’t want me to leave so just tell me what happened to you!”

Slowly, he shifted his legs so he was fully facing her now. Sabine locked eyes with the fiend, his silver tones glowing once more before they, too, dimmed - matching the amber glow of the sun’s rays as it began to set.

“How long have you been in there?”

“...I don’t know.” His eyes lingered on hers for a few more seconds before shifting off to the side. “I don’t know anymore.”

That was a surprise.

“You really don’t know?”

His brows furrowed. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

Something was definitely wrong. Fiends supposedly had a knack for knowing the exact hour of every day, even down to the second. It was a famous trait and carried throughout all the stories. There had to be some truth in that so what did it mean if a fiend lost that ability?

Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait…

Sabine clasped her hands together. “...you must have loved that girl a lot, huh?”

His eyes widened but remained trained away from her. “I…” There was a soft clicking sound in his throat before he swallowed it down. “...shut up.”

The ache in her chest was unmistakable now. She’d been battling with it all morning and afternoon and she couldn’t figure out how to place it. But now it was clear to her. Very clear.

...I feel so bad for him.

It was the weirdest thing to Sabine, but it was also the saddestthing. Everything about that man was sad to the very core. He was just so damn miserable and pathetic that a person would need to lose all of their five senses to miss it. Because beneath all the bravado and scare tactics, this man was broken and hurt and trying to reach out. It was clear she’d triggered something in him to make him lose his temper and take her down an avalanche of other emotions, but still…

Sabine took another step forward, closer to him than she’d been when he attempted to push his hand through that magical wall she couldn’t see. “You really don’t know how long you’ve been in there?”

“Yes.” He gave her a tired look to match the tired response and it shook her just how much time existed behind those eyes.

“I think you’ve been in there for too long.” She clasped her hands together in front of her. “I don’t think you really wanna kill anyone.”

He scoffed, but that, too, sounded tired. “Then you really are a fool.”

“Hush up. I’ve had enough of that joke.” She frowned, screwing her face up in annoyance. “Now tell me how to save you.”

The fiend refused to say anything. She watched him struggling with something, no longer trying to hide it from his face. But she wasn’t having any of it. Reaching out, she grabbed at his hand - the hand that was once mangled, charred, and now fully healed - and held onto it.

“Tell me.”

He just stared down at her. Then he shifted, his movements so slow, and he eyed her hand. Then he held it with both of his own, squeezing it between his fingers.

He then locked his eyes with hers. “...I need to switch with another life. That’s the only way for me to leave this place.”

Sabine put on the most confident expression she could muster, smirking. “Well, I’m not gonna switch with you. Listen to me!” She cut him off just as he started to open his mouth. “I’m gonna find another way, alright?”

For the first time in a while, she saw a spark in his eyes; albeit from annoyance. “What the hell can you do?”

Her smirk widened. “I’ll plant something in your place.”

“Nothing can grow here.” He returned her smirk with one of his own; a derisive one. “I’m a fiend, remember? A demon?”

In an instant, doubt and hesitation crept up along Sabine’s spine. It threatened to place her in a chokehold but she quickly shook her head. No. She couldn’t let any thoughts like that take over or she’d wind up running away. And if she ran away, she knew she’d regret it. She would regret it until she was a decrepit old woman just about to fall into her own grave. There was a chance that she wouldn’t even be able to live with herself if she turned her back on someone she could help.

On someone she could save.

“Doesn’t matter. The land’s gonna be fine once you’re out of there, right?” Courage welled up inside of her and she felt her smile returning. “At least, that’s what I think...what I’ve read. I’m no expert at this sort of thing.”

He gave her a dubious look.

“Look, all you gotta do is just believe in me!” She looked up, taking note that the sun was gone. The pact was finished so there was no risk to her soul anymore. Her eyes leveled with him again. “You don’t want me to leave anymore, I know that. I can feel it.” Feeling his grip tighten around her hand, she squeezed harder in an attempt to match his strength. “But I want you to believe in me. Let me go and I’ll save you!”

The man looked at his hands again, suddenly cutting into Sabine’s with his thumbnail. She winced, sucking in air through her teeth. But the fiend did not say anything. He just continued to stare, not meeting her gaze at all. Sabine was scared that if she showed any fear, what fragile bond existed between them would shatter like thin glass.

A new fear lodged itself in her throat.

He wouldn’t...would he?

Would he actually pull her in? Would he jerk her arm forward and leave her doomed to the fate that he’d experienced for countless years? There was simply no way that that was true. He wasn’t as cruel as he made himself out to be. He was just hurt and lonely. He just needed someone to believe in him…

And yet there was a bit of doubt that lingered…

Don’t pull me in.

Trying to calm her racing heart, Sabine felt like she was going to lose it.

Stop pulling me!

But it was getting harder and harder to stay sane when she could feel him bringing her arm in a little bit closer. And then a little bit more.

Please! Don’t do this! Just trust me!

He dug his nails into her again, but she bit back her urge to wince; her urge to cry.

“...let me go.”

It was a whisper, sharp and desperate. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud but Sabine was terrified and was unwilling to look at him - afraid of what she might see. She didn’t want to be trapped in that circle! She didn’t want that! Internally, she kept praying and pleading that the demon wouldn’t pull her in there. She knew he wasn’t evil and doing something like that, damning her to that fate, would have been truly evil.

Had she been wrong about him?

And just like that, slowly, he does it.

He released her hand and was holding his own up where hers had been. Just as he was about to drop it at his side, Sabine gathered her courage and grabbed his hand once again. She gave it a reassuring squeeze, pressing the pads of her thumbs against the backs of his knuckles. Their eyes met and it was like seeing him for the first time.

“Believe in me. Okay?”

Again, he doesn’t say anything.

Letting his hand go, Sabine gathered up her satchel and slung it over her shoulder. She shifted around so she could look back up at him. They hold that stare for a long moment.

And then she saw his brows furrow as if he were in pain but was hellbent on keeping it all inside of him.

“Please. Don’t betray me.” His eyes seemed to shine. “I beg of you.”

“I won’t betray you, I promise,” she said with a smile, noting that the walls didn’t shake and her voice didn’t boom, “and when this is all over, I want you to tell me your name.”

And with that promise buried deep in her heart, Sabine turned and ran out of the ballroom. She disappeared through the broken world she’d been a part of for the last several hours, determined to save that man and his own broken soul.

~c.h.~

After countless years of waiting, of being in the same spot, Hyungwon felt pure agony shredding through his veins.

He'd only been waiting for her for two hours.

As he sat by the makeshift fire he’d created and recreated from the dead leaves inside of his circle, he wondered how pathetic he must have looked. Fiends were known for being flighty creatures and, in a sense, easily bored. Stuck in one place for centuries certainly hadn’t helped his situation at all. But in what felt like small lifetimes, he began to feel hope.

He was feeling things.

The night air was chilly and the moon perched itself high in the sky, hovering over the hole in the ceiling. Fiends rarely felt the elements and the fire was merely a form of psychological comfort rather than an actual necessity. In the back of his mind, he probably started the fire for the sake of that human girl. She got lost once so was there a good chance she would get lost again, right?

Maybe I shouldn’t have let her go. Hyungwon smirked as he settled down by the fire, curling legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his knees. I’ve become less cruel in my old age…

But that child managed to call him out on his bluff. The rage that festered inside of him burned quietly inside of him; in the darkest recesses of his heart. Truth of the matter was Hyungwon was terrified. He was absolutely frightened of the idea of placing his trust in another person. Not because he knew how cruel humanity could be, but for how horrifying he knew he was capable of being. It would be a lie if he didn’t feel a measure of guilt for razing that town to ashes; the town she called home.

His anger was too much and he was far too young then.

Reaching out with one hand, he stoked the fires and peered at the orange and red tongues of flame dance further over the leaves. He grabbed a handful of twigs and threw them in there as well for good measure. It was the only thing he could do to keep his mind quiet and still. He just needed to bury it away and so Hyungwon hid his face in his arms, listening to the soft wind gusts that whipped through the ruins.

He didn’t want trepidation to reach forth with creeping fingers to take hold of his mind.

After another hour of waiting, Hyungwon caught the faint sound of shuffling feet. He continued to keep his head low, not wanting to appear desperate. His earlier actions be damned, he was a fiend and his old self would have berated and laughed at him for begging any mortal for anything.

As the footsteps grew closer, he curled his fingers into the sleeves of his jacket - waiting and all but silencing his breath. It wasn’t until her feet reached the edge of his barrier did he finally look up. When he did, he took note of the girl’s appearance and felt his brows furrow.

Her clothing was disheveled, covered with smudges of dirt and grass stains. Sweat covered her forehead, her hair clinging to her skin. Her hands, covered in dirt and mud, were carrying what Hyungwon presumed was some kind of branch; a sapling. Dirt and grass were caked under her fingernails and she carefully set the sapling down beside her before removing her satchel.

Wiping the back of his hand across his nose, he stood up and let out a heavy sigh from between his lips. He gave her the once over as she tossed some of her hair over her shoulder. “You look a mess,” was all he offered.

“Yeah, well,” she said, her stomach growling and she sniffled a bit, “it’s a little hard to dig out a tree properly without the right tools, let alone one like this.”

She held the sapling out and Hyungwon’s eyes widened slightly. “Isn’t that…?”

The girl nodded. “Mmhm. A chestnut sapling.” Their eyes met and he couldn’t help wondering what kind of look he was giving her because she immediately held up her hand to halt any and all rebuttals I might have attempted to throw. “Don’t start. I didn’t pick it because I wanted to make fun of you. Chestnut trees are strong.” Her eyes lowered to the sapling and she gripped it with both hands. “...if there’s anything that’ll take root in bad earth like this, it’s gonna be a chestnut.”

He lifted a brow. “...Right.”

She grabbed the satchel off the ground. “Okay, step back. I’m coming in.”

After a handful of seconds, Hyungwon obliged and stepped back, allowing her ample room to do what she needed to do. He wasn’t planning on doing anything underhanded, but he knew it would be useless to voice such a thing aloud. After all, she was human. It was in her nature to be curious but skeptical. It would be a surprise if she wasn’t still afraid of him and the possibility that he would just step out of the circle as she worked.

“Take it,” she said, offering up the chestnut sapling to him.

For a moment, he hesitated. But he knew she would just patiently wait for him to take it, so he did - gingerly grasping it between his fingers. It felt so small in his hands. Hyungwon watched her take a sharp rock out of her satchel and began stabbing at the ground with it, cracking the floor. He thought about offering to do it for her so that she didn’t injure herself, but the harsh look of concentration was enough to stop him in his tracks.

It was clear she was determined to do everything alone.

Each time she hit the ground, the earth broke up little by little. He pursed his lips together, noting just how bad the soil was underneath the rocks. If the girl was the child of farmers, then she would’ve seen it as well. If anything grew in that pile of barren earth, it would be with awful chances at best. An olive or chestnut tree was about the only thing that could stand a chance.

There it is again, he thought, frowning, that damned hope.

It would be foolish to let it consume him. Having his hopes dashed would be worse than just outright killing him. That thought, alone, almost tempted him to toss the girl out of his circle completely. She didn’t trust him but she was doing a damn good job of not showing any sign of reticents or weakness. If she was worried, Hyungwon would never know because she continued to keep her face pointed at the ground as she stabbed, pulled, and dug - clearing out the stones and dirt in her way.

He watched her pile up the dirt beside her, digging into the hole with her bare hands now. She would need the soil for later, bad as it was. After several minutes of effort, she leaned back and looked at the hole she made.

But she didn’t say anything. She didn’t move. Not right away.

And then, slowly, she turned to face him. His grip on the sapling tightened from how haggard her expression was. She quickly wiped it away, holding her hand out to him.

Huh. He canted his head slightly. ...was that relief?

Wordlessly, he handed her the chestnut sapling. Without wasting a second, she opened up her satchel and began pulling out wet, healthy soil she must’ve gathered while she was out. Transplanting the sapling, she carefully began putting good soil over its roots and filled the hole back up with a proper mix of the good soil and the dirt from the foundation. Taking the canteen from her waist, she opened the lid and started pouring water onto the dirt and over the sapling. It smelled like it came from a fresh spring and Hyungwon’s memory recalled a well of spring water a way’s out from where they currently were.

Just how far had the girl gone, exactly?

She emptied the insides of the bottle over the leaves and plot, screwing it closed when she’s finished and placed it back on her waist.

The girl sighed, looking just as tired as she most likely felt. “That’s it.”

“That’s all?”

She nodded, standing up while wiping sweat from her brow. “Yeah…”

He watched her turn to look outside of the circle. He did the same. She shifted beside him, but Hyungwon couldn’t tear his eyes away from the space that existed outside of that magic circle.

He saw her take a step forward.

Then another.

And another.

Hyungwon didn’t move. He stayed rooted to that spot, his heart beat slowly escalating inside of his chest. When she was no longer at his side, the girl turned around. He stared at the chestnut tree and he could see she was doing the same just out of the corner of his eye.

Did it work?

His eyes slowly moved to that invisible barrier and he bit his lower lip. He was scared. He was at the edge of that magic circle and terrified. Hyungwon could admit that now. Because in all the years he’d been trapped in that space, he’d never attempted to run his entire body through that barrier. Touching it scorched his entire hand, bringing him pain that was absolutely awful. When he’d pushed his hand through and watched his limp turn into a charred, meaty stump, Hyungwon felt on the verge of passing out and wanting to die. He may have had a stone face when he did it, but the tears were very real.

But if he ran his whole body through?

It could kill me, he thought, feeling his shoulders beginning to tremble, and if it does, I just pray that it completely incinerates me...please. I don’t want the pain…

Rolling his shoulders back, he gripped his hands into fists at his side. Hyungwon held his breath and closed his eyes, taking a step forward. In one more step, he would hit the barrier. But he couldn’t think about it. He just had to do it.

He just had to pray that it ended quickly; that death would be swift.

“W-Wait!” the girl cried, but it was too late.

He was crossing “the line” and he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. Good or bad, this was going to end.

He was ending it.

As his other foot left the circle, Hyungwon faltered, his weight carrying him forward. He could feel the world shifting as gravity threatened to throw him into a raw tilt and it forced him to open his eyes. The girl stood before him, eyes wet as tears streamed down her face. Hyungwon drew closer until he felt himself lowering down toward her, his arms wrapping her up into an embrace. He felt her arms encircling him, gathering him up against her chest as he pulled her even closer. His skin warmed up all over and he nuzzled his face affectionately into her neck, rubbing his nose over her cheek as his own tears leaked from his eyes.

What little strength he had slowly drained away from him, but he continued to stand so he wasn’t overwhelming her with his added weight. Slowly, he felt the girl’s palm stroking over the top of his head and resting on his neck, her body trembling as she cried.

“It’s okay now,” she whispered into his ear, causing a broken sob to lodge itself into his throat, “it’s all over.”

“Hyungwon,” he whispered, breathing past her ear.

“W-What?”

“My name is Hyungwon…” He pulled her even closer. “...and thank you.”

He held her tightly and didn’t say anything else. Not for a few more moments. He just wanted to stay like that a little longer; for just a few more selfish minutes.

When those minutes passed, Hyungwon chuckled and pulled away from her, his hand moving to wipe at her face. “You know, you’re awfully stubborn for a lass. Are all of the lasses like you now?”

She pouted as she looked up at him, shaking her head. “It just really hurt looking at you, that’s all.”

“Right,” he said, reaching out to take her hand in his.

He couldn’t blame her. He was an emotional wreck himself. If his parents saw him like that, well, they’d have a whole festival over the affair.

I wonder if they’re still alive somewhere…

Hyungwon pulled the girl gently along, leading her outside. There was a large and dense forest close to the ruin and he blinked, surprised that none of it had been cleared out. Time wasn’t kind to his prison, but the world was starting to heal and grow. He didn’t remember it being so green beyond the hills.

“When was the last time I saw this place from here?” She didn’t say anything, but he hadn’t expected her to give an answer. “Has it truly been forgotten?”

“I think so. I’ve never heard of it before finding my way here.”

He smiled, looking up at the sky. “...I think that’s a good thing.” No one else needed to be trapped here, magical or natural alike.

“Oh, right,” he said, craning his neck to look down at her, “you never told me your name.”

A soft flush touched her cheeks, making her look adorable despite her terrible appearance. “Sabine.”

“Sabine,” he repeated, letting it roll off his tongue before smiling, “you’re still lost, aren’t you?”

She scoffed. “Well, obviously.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t get smart. I’ll help you.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I can’t give you an exact time of when we will find it, but I promise you that we will.”

Sabine raised her brows. “You’re not gonna travel or anything?”

“I think this should be enough of a journey after standing in one place for so long,” he said with a chuckle, “we can camp by the spring east of here for the night. You know that one, right?”

“I think so,” she said softly while looking at the sky, “at least if it’s the one I’m thinking about.”

“Can you fish?”

“Not without a rod, no.”

He sighed. “Then I’ll fish for you. But you’ll have to be the one to prepare it. I can’t do everything for you, now can I?”

Taking her hand again, they walked down the small hill that crested just over a stone wall. Just at the edge of the forest, Hyungwon spied something out of the corner of his eyes. Pausing, he took a moment to peer at what was situated at the base of the tree.

It was a circle of marigolds.

“I’m glad you stayed.” It was a sudden thought that was made vocal. He wasn’t sure if he’d intended it to or not. Instead, he laughed while turning to look at her. “I’m glad you’re such a foolish girl.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever…”

“Truly, I’m glad. I can’t say it enough.”

“It’s alright,” Sabine said with a shrug.

He pointed his finger at her, causing her eyes to cross. “Don’t go consorting with any other fiends than me, understood?”

She smiled while shaking her head and for a moment, Hyungwon’s heart paused.

“Got it.”

“Let’s go then.”

As they continued to walk, Hyungwon’s mind became lucid - more so than when he’d been freed. Everything felt so bright that it would surely blind him. He was happy. The sun would shine a different way now; different than from all the ways he’d seen it before. He thought he’d seen them all, but he knew it would be pleasant this time. Hyungwon would watch it come up in the morning and would protect the girl as she slept. It was clear she was tired and so he would let her rest when the time came.

He couldn’t wait for the dawn.

Because when morning came, he would be going to a ‘mire’ brimming with life; to guide him there, free of charge.

Afterwards, well, who could say? The world undoubtedly had changed so much since he’d been away. It already didn’t feel the same. He could tell that his friends had died; he could guess it from the way the air felt on his skin. They were gone and he hadn’t been able to wish them farewell.

His kin, too, were dead.

Fiends still roamed, but he knew none of them…

But this girl? This girl he would watch over, keep after her, even if only from afar. He wanted her life to be well and to have all the success that she could ever deserve. It would teem with happiness and comfort, anything that he could afford to give her.

And when she was gone, then perhaps that would be the time Hyungwon would go too. It probably wasn’t the best use of the time she’d returned to him, but he was tired. So very tired…

He smiled, lacing his fingers through Sabine’s hand. ...but I think that I can stay awake a little longer.

F I N

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