“S-Seonghwa-“ you gasp, hand reaching to clutch at the curtain in front of you. His hips falter, and his hand reaches to the base of your neck, fingers squeezing the flesh lightly before pulling you back against him, his breath faintly hitting the side of your neck. You can faintly see his hair, the black tendrils falling onto his forehead which was glistening in the faint light. Your grip leaves the wrinkled curtain, reaching up to grab at his wrist, the cufflinks undone.
“Be quiet-“ he rasps, hip lips curling against your ear, “they might hear.”
You knew he was right. The group of people standing tensely around a gameboard-like table, eyes pinned to the scrolls of paper and small notes from others. You had been in that room not that long ago, pointing to the board to mark out the place you remembered, their eyes narrowing judgmentally at you, some scoffing and whispering to their neighbor.
From there it felt almost like a blur, rushing out in tears, Seonghwa coming after you to stop you, the fight, his lips, the way he tasted, the way he touched you and covered your mouth when you whimpered.
Now, he had you pressed firmly against one of the walls in a dark hallway to who-knows-where. He had pulled down your pants roughly and teased you endlessly.
“Hng- wait-“ you stutter, but he only chuckles, hand dropping from your neck to your front, popping some of the pearl buttons from your top to grab your breasts, teasing and flicking your nipple lightly.
You must suppress a moan, dropping your head to the window and squeezing your thighs together to stop them from quivering. You try to stop yourself from clenching, but your body has other ideas, squeezing him, his quiet whimper only bringing more heat to your gut.
His hips snap into yours, forehead falling into your neck as he bites onto your flesh, sucking marks. His cock hitting sweet spot after sweet spot, thick and just perfect for you.
“Hm?” He said, “what was that baby?”
You whimper, biting down onto your lip as his hand from your breast travels down, sliding into your pants to circle your clit slowly, teasingly light enough to have your hips twitch and your walls clench around him.
Forgetting what you were going to say, you push your hips back against him, trying to run away from his fingers, but his hips stop you, the faint sound of his skin on yours made your cheeks feel even hotter. Your hair was falling from its tight up do, the lipstick that was placed delicately onto your lips was smeared, smudging the cornered of Seonghwa’s mouth and his fingers.
“Wan- hgn! P-please!” You beg, not even knowing what you’re begging for, but he seems to understand. Instead of the light touch, was a beautifully rough circle of his fingers on your clit, his hips snapping harder into you, the dull pain of his cock hitting against your cervix fueling the fire that was slowly building.
The chatter of older men and woman make you choke on a moan, your eyes snapping over to the entrance of the hallway as you see more and more people pass. Seonghwa grabs your chin, jerking your face away and towards him, and god why did he look so good?
With his once neat and tidy hair, was replaced by a messy, unkept, knotted mess from your fingers. Pale skin smudged with your lipstick, and his eyes so blue and beautiful, pupils blown out with lust and full of desire.
“Don’t look at them,” he growls, hips grinding against yours, against your sweet spot, tears pooling in your waterline.
The talking never seemed to stop, yet that burning fire seemed to thrive off the possibility of being caught by the counsel. Seonghwa sees it, and smirks, that damn smirk that had your panties slick in the first place. “You only look at me, yeah?” He says, eyes glinting with something other than lust.
Genre: Thriller, Suggestive, Supernatural, Smut, Fluff, Some Angst/Dark Themes
Type: Hybrid!Seonghwa x Afab!Reader
Warnings: Smart Yeosang ahah. Blood, drinking of blood, fangs, biting, mention of hard past. If i missed something please let me know.
Synopsis: Seonghwa takes you to Yeosang to figure out why you are seeing a ghost, but it turns into Seonghwa finally knowing something he's be dying to know.
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Sitting on the table in Yeosang's dungeon, The witch stumbles around looking through books that magically drifted to him and once he was done he threw them behind him, letting them float back to their spot on the shelf. You didn't really have an introduction to the man and the minute you entered with Seonghwa saying you saw his dead mother, Yeosang immediately went to his notes.
"Psychic..." The male cuts off the silences, making both you and Hwa look at him. Yeosang continues skimming through the book briefly reading allowed.
"Someone who is sensitive to psychic influences or forces... This can lead to the similarities of Mediums which can mean someone whom the spirits of the dead are able to contact with. This includes reading the middle state." Yeosang continues to ramble over and over.
"I think your mate here, is not fully human." He spoke bluntly, almost snapping his words out. They hit you like a slap in the face. 'Not fully human'... What is that supposed to mean? You turn to Hwa, seeing his expression is still, empty, unreadable. He was lost in his own thoughts for a moment after hearing the young male before asking;
"So what is she then?" Seonghwa looking over at the pages of the book, Yeosang had placed opened on the dark oak desk a couple of feet in front of you.
"A psychic is a form of Pagan witch, stemming from the Vikings. My guess is she's a half-bred. Human and pagan. Which now makes sense how she got through my protection spell on the house and why her powers are so minimal." Yeosang rubs his finger over his chin, looking at Seonghwa while he speaks. You look down at your hands that sit in your very exposed lap, having only Hwa long blouse on. You thank the stars it's long enough to cover most of you, falling just below your ass.
"Y/n." The witches voice snaps you away from your thoughts, looking up at him with glossed eyes, feeling tears forming again. Crying again?
Why does this keep happening...
"Do you know anything about your family history? Or if anyone, even your parents, that could be a pagan witch?" His words seeped, crawling under your skin. It was almost a laughable moment if it wasn't for the ball of saliva stuck in your throat. You didn't know any of your family history or even your parents. You were in fact, adopted.
"I don't know my real parents..." You stutter out, feeling almost embarrassed you couldn't help.
"You're adopted?" Seonghwa's hand lands on your bare thigh, making you feel a shiver of comfort flow through you. You nod at him, scooting a bit closer from the table to where he stands.
"Great! So we have no way in finding out if she's not human." Yeosang pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Actually there is..." Seonghwa spoke up, making you feel your uneasiness fade. His hand gripping a little tighter on your thigh. His fingers dig in your flesh lightly.
"Human blood all taste the same, with the exception of A and AB. But in the supernatural, each species is different. Wolves are bitter, vampires are rich, the list goes on. If she's half of something her blood will taste different." He turns to look at you in your eyes. His fingers leave your thigh before grazing over your chin.
"I've never had hybrid blood before. Especially one that's half-human. So this is gonna be interesting." His finger glides from your chin to your neck, until it reaches your collar bone peaking from the low blouse, not having the top button done up.
"Well, in that case, test your theory and get back to me asap. I too, find this discovery interesting and wish to study Ms Y/n. If that's alright with her." Yeosang's places his glasses on the bridge of his nose pulling them up as he looks at you with his crystal eyes. You just simply nod at him before looking back at Hwa who never let his eyes wander from you, not even for a second.
"Well, Princess, ready to test our theory?" He smiles softly, but under the smile was a lustful desire. The thought of tasting your blood, seeing the red flow from your skin, it made his own blood heat up, his body falling deeper into the toxicity of your scent, your feelings, you.
You didn't speak, afraid of what might slip from your lips if you do. Instead, you lean your head to the side, showing your neck to him. He gulps slightly, feeling tension in his jeans.
"Vampires have a special ability that's not mentioned in folk law. It's said that it hurts when a vampire drinks from a being. But in truth we only make it hurt if we want it to..." He pauses his words to bring his lips to the shell of your ear licking your lobe.
"Try to keep quiet Princess. Don't want Yeosang to hear you." He chuckles lowly, letting his head fall to your neck. Pulling your body close, your legs wrap around his waist. His left hand holding the back of your neck while the other sits on your hip. His tongue pokes out, sliding over your hot flesh. He can hear your heart racing, your blooding pumping faster. Your blue veins showing through your blushed skin.
Your hands grip the fabric on his chest. He smiles before opening his mouth letting his fangs free, slowly piercing your skin. It was like a shock to your system. Your lower stomach tingles, getting weak at the knees. You whimper at the feeling. It hurts but it was nothing like you've ever felt before. The pain was so pleasurable, you feel your body heat up. Your grip gets tighter, pulling him closer, if that was even possible, not even caring that he could drink you dry.
Your deep red blood spilled out like a waterfall into his mouth. He takes a gulp, getting a rush from the hot flavour. It was sweet, so very sweet. Like nothing, he has ever had before. You definitely had witch blood but the human mixing in with also you being his mate. You are intoxicating, you are the only thing he ever wanted to feed on from now on. Pulling away he bites another part of your neck, drinking more and more, not even caring that he could drink you dry.
Here you can find all of my Ateez works so far, I hope you enjoy and I will try to update this list as regularly as I can!
Ateez in Littlespace
CW: age regression, mommy/daddy mentions but not sexual, fluff.
Ateez + Dollification Kink
CW: crossdressing, lingerie, bondage, body writing, praise, degradation, overuse of “doll”, crying, breeding kink, vaginal sex, anal/pegging, vibrators, gangbang mention, dirty talk, Seonghwa calls his dick his “doll parts”, taking pictures, master/slave dynamics kinda (mostly Wooyoung, they all call reader “master”), there’s a little bit of spit/drool kink in there.
➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader
➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut
➻ word count: 7.9k
➻ rating: M
➻ warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba chapter warnings: suicide is mentioned but not in detail, talks of death
➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you
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act six ➻ part one
You presume that hell is meant to be a miserable place full of horrible and awful things, but if you’re being honest with yourself, that fate sounds much more enjoyable than the one you find yourself trapped in right now.
The first day spent on Jisung’s ship goes about as smoothly as expected, and by that, you of course mean that you picked a fight with at least three different people — including the ones you recognized from Wooyoung’s time on the very same ship who tortured him and San. And while you were quite literally held back from killing either of them by Jisung, you imagine they understood the extent of your fury given how one nursed a broken arm and the other earned himself a very broken nose that you hope doesn’t heal normally. Given your “uncouth behavior” as Jisung put it, he said you were not allowed to leave his side as long as you planned on harming anyone and everyone in your vicinity.
Unfortunately for you, that included nighttime when he forced you to stay in his quarters throughout the night while he went off and celebrated his precious little victory with his crew members outside. You didn’t get a wink of sleep that first night, not even after Jisung returned to the room and promptly fell asleep on the couch pushed into the corner of the room rather than joining you on the far too large mattress.
The second day offers much of the same atrocities, but at the very least, Jisung doesn’t force you to leave the confines of his room and instead brings two meals that day — one in the morning, and a second in the late afternoon. It’s almost amusing how he trusts you enough to give you a fork and knife alongside a spoon, things you could easily use as weapons, but he leaves almost immediately after delivering the food to you on the coffee table outside the bedroom. You’re growing familiar with the room thanks to your night spent without an ounce of sleep. It’s simple, just a square room attached to another square room meant to be the bedroom and a bathroom nestled behind that which contains a mirror you could easily break with a quick punch. He has a desk, some couches, chairs, a table here, three bookshelves there, some random memorabilia that looks to have little value in your eyes, and that’s pretty much it. The items, while basic, add some layer of humanity to the man, as odd as it sounds.
He’s just some guy.
That’s what you learn to tell yourself every time he makes a sorry attempt at interacting with you.
He’s just some guy. Hardly a man who held you under bloody waters and tried to end your life years ago.
Certainly not a man who sent an assassin to kill your former teammate simply because he didn’t want you knowing the truth about what he did to you.
Kidnapped three of your crewmates, threatened murder and all sorts of less than pretty things, fully engaged in psychological torture on multiple occasions to get you to comply with his wishes.
If you think about those things, you feel more inclined to slit his throat, and it takes a great deal of restraint to remind yourself that you only need to suffer through this for a little more than a week, depending on how long it takes The Horizon to catch up to you. The tracking device Hongjoong gave you sits on the underside of the mirror in the bathroom, at the place where the glass pulls up a hair and doesn’t fully stick to the wall.
On day three, Jisung asks if you’re behaved enough to at least leave the room to walk around the ship some. You let him extend a hand in your direction when he thinks you aren’t going to lash out, then you twist his arm and dislocate his elbow for good measure.
The way Jisung reacts to your aggressive behavior is probably the most peculiar thing you’ve noted while here. He cracked a smile when you yanked his arm out of place, then laughed as he pushed it back in as best he could before walking out the room with a simple ‘I suppose not yet then’. It’s unsettling at best and dehumanizing at worst. And while you aren’t doing yourself any favors given how you’re acting, he treats you with about the same amount of care and patience that a trainer does to a dog minus the punishments for bad behaviors.
When he returned later in the evening with a tray of food for you to eat, you snatch the knife from the plate only to find that it’s terribly dull and won’t cut through a bite of meat, let alone Jisung himself. That foray is followed by a brief yet impactful conversation that leaves you with a lot to debate internally in the hours afterward.
“You’re putting an awful lot of trust in me, Han.”
“Ah, come now, you only hurt my elbow. You could’ve done worse, but you didn’t.”
“I can break your mirror and stab you in your sleep.”
“So why aren’t you?”
“You’ve got a knife in your boot too, tucked next to your calf, I noticed it yesterday morning.”
“And why aren’t you using it?”
“Why haven’t you killed me yet, little lady? Here you go talking about all these opportunities, yet you haven’t taken any of them. Why is that?”
There had been enough silence on your end to have Jisung speaking again, although it was only to taunt you further to a point where you wanted to strangle him on the spot.
“You won’t kill me because you can’t kill me. You can get away with minor behaviors like this — breaking a nose, twisting an arm, so on and so forth — but you can’t kill me because you know my crew won’t spare you if you do. Face it, Y/n, right now I’m the only thing keeping you alive. The bounty on your head? Big enough to bring you in dead and still share the spoils. You’re just a little fish in a big pond, and you’re on your own without me.”
That same night — night three — your body gives in to the pressure of lack of sleep and has you passing out on the floor of the bathroom as you’re dressing yourself after a shower. You wake in a fit of panic and confusion, finding a soft cushioned mattress under your body rather than the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. A quick look at the clock Jisung has set on the bedside table reads that it’s supposedly two in the morning somewhere, although you have no clue what planet that’s meant to represent. The man himself is nowhere to be found.
You almost pass it off as Wooyoung coming into your body while you are vastly unaware again.
There’s some part of you that aches constantly, a place almost behind your heart if possible, and you can’t pinpoint what it is or where it’s coming from. At first, you thought it to be somehow feeling Wooyoung’s emotions despite the vast distance between the two of you, but you yourself feel far too empty for that to be the case. You can’t explain it, you don’t know what it means, and you have no way of figuring it out. The one thing you do know is that it’s distinctly different from any feeling that resonated off Wooyoung and Seonghwa both, like something inside you is inexplicably unhappy.
Thinking of San brings about a different pain, one that’s far sharper and more intense in every way. It’s the kind of pain that makes you curl onto your side and clutch at your chest like it will do any good. You pride yourself on the fact that you don’t cry once in those first days. If only because you’re too stubborn for your own good and don’t want to give Jisung the pleasure even if he’s not around to witness it.
In short, you find yourself trapped in a miserable place full of horrible and awful things, all of which are manifested by Han Jisung himself.
The shift that comes on day four is either thanks to your body finally getting some fucking rest or just something in the air because you find yourself sitting across from Jisung in the makeshift living area of his room with a coffee table separating your bodies, a plate of food atop it, and your eyes firmly set on his as he remains in the room after delivering the meal. You pull your knees up on the couch, bringing them close to your chest.
“We’ll be in Sombre by the end of the day.”
“Why?” The question comes out in a breathy whisper, most likely because you haven’t used your voice at all in the past four days. His gaze lingers on yours. You stare at the point between his dark eyebrows, not at all keen on seeing into those equally dark eyes. If you think about it for too long, he’s still a human. A living breathing person with who you spent many years of your life, and although those years were spent in manipulation more often than not, you can’t trust yourself to continue being objective like this if you let your guard down anymore. Or perhaps you’re simply moving towards the brink of insanity after being cooped up in a quiet room for days on end.
“We’re going to Rathmos.”
Jisung’s voice dies in his throat, and for a moment, you see that stony facade that tries to be so unforgiving crack a hair. It’s not enough to break through, however, and you’re back to staring into the eyes of a psychopath seconds later.
“There’s someone we need to meet there.”
“That’s where he is.”
“That’s enough questions from you, little lady.” Jisung presses his palms down onto his knees, squeezing around them through the billowing fabric of his pants, and you watch him ready to stand up once more without speaking. “Explaining to you won’t do any good. I’d rather you see with your own eyes.”
“It’s far too late to rectify any of the mistakes you made,” you utter as he stands. This time there’s a bit more confidence in how you speak, some layer of venom there too, but you don’t move from your seat. “If they were even mistakes in your eyes.”
“Which ones do you even remember, hm?” When you fail to respond to that question, Jisung takes it as a win and lets his lips curl upwards at the corners. He adjusts his jacket, pulling the leather closer around his body, then he pauses to stare down at you. “Everything I did back then was for you. How can you call those mistakes?” Jisung clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. The act itself isn’t nearly as condescending as the way he seems to soften his gaze with faux pity moments later.
“Why did you take my memories of those things away then?”
“Why do you want to remember things that are no longer important?”
There’s a knife on the food tray. You could easily —
“Be sure to sleep tonight. I don’t want to find you on the floor of the bathroom again.”
— put the knife through his hand in the very least. But he’s already gone through the door before you have the chance.
Hongjoong said you only had to survive a single week of this madness, yet you can’t help wondering whether it would be easier for you to resign yourself to your fate here. Had you not done what you did with Hongjoong on the bridge, would you be able to curb your impatience? You drum your fingers against the inside of your knee. The admission of what exactly happened in that conversation with Hongjoong isn’t an easy one, and you haven’t put any effort into thinking about it since. You are far from guilty though, that’s for certain. You did what had to be done in order to guarantee both your survival and getting back to the crew (to San). Would Seonghwa look down on you and chastise you for what you did? Absolutely, both because he’d see you as irresponsibly using your Siren abilities as well as because it was Hongjoong you chose to manipulate.
Besides, it’s not like you reached into his chest and squeezed his heart until he submitted to your will — it was just a slight little twist of his feelings, a feeling amplified by that ring with the pale gem inlaid in it.
“The ring on my middle finger — this is what’s called a conductor.”
“It amplifies class abilities for the wearer, but it’s also strong enough to conduct the wearer’s energy through another person with physical contact. Which is why holding your arm allowed you to slip through the door with more ease since the ring was touching you.”
What you did isn’t wrong by any means — you simply used the abilities you were supposedly born with to tip the scales in your favor, encouraged by both the conductor on Hongjoong’s finger as well as the threat of your life hanging in the balance. The repeating thoughts that rang in your head over and over: if he sees no use in me, then I’m simply going to make him change his mind, you will need me, you need me, I need to be here. Was it wrong for you to push those thoughts onto Hongjoong and into his skin with all your might?
If he never finds out, then no, it’s hardly wrong in the slightest.
Should he ever find out, however, you can’t imagine that what little trust he has for you would linger for much longer.
In all honesty, he could very well realize what you did now and decide that you aren’t worth the trouble, not come looking after you, not follow through with the plan you orchestrated, then you’re abandoned here to do god knows what for god knows how long. Going in cold like this with no communication was a terrible mistake, only heightened by Wooyoung’s lack of connection and efforts to reach out to you now of all times, which is a selfish thought and you know that. Yet even when you sit on the corner of the bed and mentally beg Wooyoung to let you in, to let you know how he is, to just see if he’s alright after the horrific argument you witnessed prior to leaving — all you get is radio silence there too.
You suppose the other issue with that whole predicament is that matter of how exactly you knew to do such a thing, and frankly, no matter how much you rack your brain about it, you cannot come up with any explanation beyond it being a visceral and immediate reaction that your brain provided in the heat of the moment. Maybe brought on by reading Seonghwa’s books, some old stories about Sirens who could twist people to their beck and call, anything and everything to make you feel less like you’re losing your mind after just a few days in this place.
The food before you is almost taunting in how it steams just a bit, a delicious smell wafting up to your nose and inviting you to eat it.
You get up and walk away. The exhaustion in your body lingers after going so long without proper rest, and you don’t find yourself all too opposed to the idea of sleeping the time away just so that you don’t have to interact with Jisung any more than you have. Although you deeply consider leaving the room to go beat up those guards who hurt your crewmates if only to expend the seething energy in your bones, you opt to curl up under the coarse sheets covering what used to be Jisung’s bed. A soft murmur from your lips has the lights shutting down around you, taking away the artificial brightness and leaving you shrouded in the dark in an unfamiliar place. It still hasn’t grown on you, and you will continue to refuse its welcome in your mind so long as you have the slightest bit of hope of returning to The Horizon.
Your fingers curl around the sheets beside you, into that empty space that’s not warmed by a body, and you wish, perhaps for the first time in a long time, more than anything that you weren’t alone as you are now. You’ve had a taste of the sanctity of human companionship, the inherent need to not be alone, to have someone present even if it’s just to take away the edge of coldness that follows. Having it ripped away so quickly is cruel, isn’t it?
You don’t consider yourself to be a desperate person, but tonight you beg. Wordless pleas sent out into the infinite amount of space between you and Wooyoung, tonight you beg for him to let you in for no other reason than to feel less alone.
Sleep doesn’t come easily, nor do you expect it to.
The dream you come into is far from what you asked for or expected seeing as you wake on a cold metal-plated floor with tall walls stretching up all around you. For the briefest of moments, you think you recognize the place, think you’ve seen it somewhere in the recesses of your memory of your time on Eros, but then that memory dissipates as you glance over the walls and see a far too familiar crest displayed across the metal. It’s painted with the color of blood, a deep red that almost leans towards brown if not for the fluorescent lighting.
An abstract image of the head of a red rose, four black thorns sticking out between the petals, and a winding emerald snake behind it.
The emblem of the royal family on Aera, the one belonging to the king, that of the Kang family.
It takes all of two seconds for you to scramble to get on your feet, eyes already scanning your surroundings for any idea of what’s going on here, but all you get is the face of a young boy who looks startlingly familiar.
“My lord, sir, where are you going?” The voice comes from a man behind the boy, one that can’t be even in his teenage years yet already seems to have lived several lifetimes just based on the crease between his brow. “Your father — His Majesty asked that you attend the council for your own knowledge!”
“Tell him I won’t be going then.” Even with the slight pitch to his tone, you think he hasn’t changed a bit. Kang Yeosang might have gone through great efforts to hide who he was in the past, but just changing his hair from blonde to black and letting it grow out from the close-trimmed and neatly tucked style he held as a child can’t keep you from recognizing him.
The young boy ignores the firm tone from the official tailing him and pauses near the end of the hallway where you stand now. If not for how he stares straight through your abdomen, you’d almost believe that he can truly see you right here and now.
“Woo, come with me to my chambers, please?”
That has you reeling, a quick spin on your heel that makes you nearly dizzy with the force of the movement, and just behind you stands another child that can’t be any older than Yeosang. Tanned skin, faded lavender-tinted hair, and a thick metal collar bound around his neck. It’s large on him, hangs loose near his collarbone in a way that looks like it ought to be painful and leave bruises along the bone there, but the flickering zaps of electricity shooting from the inside of the metal to his skin work just fine. It almost breaks your heart in two when you take in the appearance of this younger version of Wooyoung because he hardly looks different than the Wooyoung you know him to be. Still has the same wide eyes that are filled with curiosity and concealing layers upon layers of pain. He’s grown into his collar as you know him now, but the scars are still the same.
“Of course, my prince.”
“Official Kohr, you’re dismissed from my presence. Tell my father I will be in my chambers studying books on law rather than attending his stuffy little councils.”
This isn’t your memory to experience — if it even is that, for all you know it could be some painted imagination that Wooyoung came up with to find solace — but either way, you being here must mean that Wooyoung himself is somewhere, no doubt close by so he can watch over this realm of his dreams.
It feels wrong to follow the young images of Yeosang and Wooyoung through the brightly lit halls, but it’s also the only guaranteed method you have of finding the real Wooyoung.
Yeosang grabs hold of Wooyoung’s small hand when they reach a stupidly tall door, and the smile painting his lips is something you have never seen before on Yeosang’s lips. The grin of a child, one who thinks he’s untouchable and free to do whatever he wishes. The cruel part of your mind wonders how long it took for that hope to be wrenched from his chest and stomped out in front of his young eyes. They slip into the room like that with fingers tangled together, and Yeosang dares to laugh as he tugs Wooyoung towards him in the new room. A bedroom, no doubt Yeosang’s, stands before you now with its opulent decorations and unending items strewn about in haphazard manners. Yeosang is the first to drop his hand, although it’s only to move for the door and push it back into place, sealing the pair in the far too large room with you still standing by.
“Prince Wooyoung, how can I be of assistance today?” Yeosang asks, almost giddy in how he poses the question. He moves around the other with a smile stretching his lips. Black hair against porcelain skin, you can really see the royalty in him like this. His features are almost doll-like, too perfect in how they’re structured, and he hardly looks like that the steely, harsh Elitist you know now. He and Wooyoung truly look like polar opposites in this light. You suppose that beyond appearances, the same could be said for who they are and what they are. An Elitist driven by logic and rationality against a Siren whose emotions make him wildly volatile and a ticking time bomb.
“Stop it, Yeo! If we’re caught playing like this, they’ll have us both drawn and quartered.”
Yeosang huffs out a sigh as he steps further into the room.
“They can’t do anything to me and you know it.”
“Okay, but what about me?” The young boy standing near the foot of the bed falls silent. “Exactly, so can you please quiet down a little, my lord?”
“Yes, yes, my prince, of course! Say… do you want some fresh bread? I heard Nehmi is making loaves for the banquet tomorrow.”
“Yeo… let me go get it then. Your tutor will be here soon for lessons.”
“No,” Yeosang says quickly. His hand darts out to grip Wooyoung’s wrist. “I’m sorry, no, please don’t go.”
“I… if you want to go down to the kitchens, let me go with you.”
You turn to the door. If the real Wooyoung isn’t here, then there is no reason for you to stay, and this memory is starting to drift too far into something extremely personal for your liking.
“Yeosang…” Wooyoung’s voice falters at the end, a slight break that hurts to hear.
“A-Ah, there’s no banquet tomorrow, is there? I must have forgotten again.”
“There is. There’s the — you know…”
You squeeze your eyes shut, fingers closing around the broad handle, and with a sharp yank, you pull the door open and step back into the hallway.
The scenery before you has shifted when you open your eyes, much like the trip down memory lane you took with Seonghwa, and now you stand in what seems to be a study of sorts with shelves lining the walls covered in all sorts of books. It’s entirely empty save for a new Yeosang, one who doesn’t look any older than the last, and another young Wooyoung who sits at his feet. Yeosang on the other hand is on an oddly shaped chair, something abstract and uncomfortable to the eye. Two small hands cover Yeosang’s knees and blunt nails dig into the pale skin there.
“Yeosang, you have to go or you’ll miss it!” Wooyoung pleads.
“I don’t want to. I don’t need to.”
“Yeo, come on, don’t be like this. Please, it’s your sis—”
“I know what it is, Wooyoung!”
Yeosang jerks his head forward to look down at Wooyoung. You barely catch the expression that flickers over his features, but it’s something terribly distraught in that split second.
“I can’t go.”
“It’s… Yeosang, it’s your last chance to put her to rest,” Wooyoung whispers like Yeosang will snap again upon hearing the words. “You can hate your father. You can hate your mother. Your grandparents, the council, those stuffy officials who don’t give a shit. B-But don’t let that get in the way of saying goodbye to her properly.”
“What?” Yeosang presses his lips into a thin line as he glares, but it’s only a poor attempt to conceal the emotion welling in his eyes. “So they can spit and scowl at me for crying over her? Because I’m not their perfect little Elitist who feels nothing? Knowing my father, he’d beat me down in front of her coffin just to prove a point. I won’t go, I won’t do it.”
“I’ll be there with you, Yeo. He can — he can punish me in your place, while you’re saying your prayers and such.”
“Did he even shed one tear for her? His own daughter? His firstborn? She was barely fifteen, Woo! Killed his own child for being a Normie, expelled her slave for trying to protect her, and didn’t even care!” Yeosang’s face contorts into something ugly and misshapen, overtaken by a grimace as he fights back a sob. The first tear falls, and it streaks down the side of his cheek as his lips curl into a scowl. “Why didn’t my mother do anything?”
Yeosang falls forward, elbows colliding with the tops of his thighs as he breaks down further, and Wooyoung reaches up to envelop the prince with his arms as best he can.
“They sat and watched their own daughter die without batting an eye, what kind of parents do that?”
“Yeo, I’ve got you, I promise, I’ve got you.” Wooyoung clings to Yeosang’s heaving form, trying to steady the older’s body and console him through the sobs wracking him. “I’ve got you, Yeo, and you’ve got me, alright? I’m not — I’m not letting go of you now.”
They’re just two young boys, and yet the burdens on both their shoulders are so immense that it leaves a lingering pain in your chest. You press your eyes shut, listening to the younger version of Wooyoung continue to whisper what’s meant to be comfort.
“It’s funny, you know.”
The voice comes from behind you, a flat and even tone that startles you almost out of your skin, and you jerk to look over your shoulder at the source of it.
It’s Wooyoung. The real one, the older one, the one you know with his freshly dyed hair and red-rimmed eyes that look like they haven’t seen rest in days. You’re willing to believe that his body gave in on itself the way yours did in an attempt to force him to rest.
You’re about to apologize for intruding on these memories when he interrupts, head nodding towards the scene in the study.
“We were so much younger back then, but things have hardly changed at all since.”
“What do you mean?” you inquire as you turn on your heel to get a better look at him. He shrugs and presses his hands into the pockets of his dull sweatpants that pinch around his ankles.
“Still doesn’t listen to a word I say even when I beg.” Wooyoung frowns ever so slightly, but it seems to take over his face nonetheless. “The only thing that really changed was how he became exactly what his father wanted after we left. All that bitching and moaning about how he didn’t even want to be the man his father was, didn’t want to be an emotionless husk, all for nothing. Because he did it regardless the second he heard that hag of a fortune teller say that we shouldn’t be in each other’s lives.”
Teeth sink into skin, and Wooyoung gnaws at his lower lip with a passion as he stares down the scene unfolding before the two of you.
“I… you know, I came here to — to try to see where things went wrong. To see if it was doomed from the start and if I ever really stood a chance, and yet I find myself searching out the memories where we were closest. I keep looking for the ones where I comforted him, where we were happy and together, and it was like I wasn’t a slave and he wasn’t my master and I… I can’t help it.” When Wooyoung blinks up at you, his eyes are glazed over with unshed tears. The pain in his features is laid bare, and there’s a tug in your chest that isn’t your own heart aching but his. “I hate him so much for what he’s made me, but I love him nonetheless. Because I have these memories of him, these ones that are precious and show me who I know him to be but he just — he doesn’t believe that it’s him. And how am I supposed to get him out of his head when I don’t know what’s going on in it?”
“Wooyoung,” you start, twisting fully around so you can step in his direction. Your hand finds his and clings to his fingers like a lifeline.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m ranting.” Wooyoung exhales a deep breath, one that has his chest heaving, and then pulls back from your grasp to stand up straighter. “Do you mind if we walk? I’ll change the scenery, I don’t like being in this miserable place longer than necessary.”
“You mean you… did this? Not Daichi?”
“Daichi? Hm, no, not at all. He’s not here tonight. At least not in this part of the Dreamscape.” Wooyoung nods his head towards the hallway. You take the cue to follow him out, and the moment you both step over the threshold, the dismal and bleak scenery slips into something different. It’s brighter, more welcoming in the very least, but there’s the familiar blood-red moon hovering above your heads and casting crimson light down on the path before you. It takes you a moment to realize what the surroundings have become, and it’s only when Wooyoung leads you down a short staircase onto white sands that you see the familiarity behind it all.
White sands, black waters, red moon.
Wooyoung sinks to his knees in the sand, folding his legs underneath him to sit more comfortably, and you follow suit without saying anything. He speaks again as you’re pulling your knees to your chest, eyes finding yours when you wrap your arms around each other and hug your knees closer.
“When we were younger… well, for a time, Yeosang had a sister. Gaeun was her name, she was only a year older than Yeosang, so what you saw was shortly before things escalated. I don’t think you would remember her, even if you saw her face.”
“You recognized Yeosang, didn’t you? As the prince?”
“Ah, well, that was only because I’d heard the rumors. I didn’t recognize his face necessarily, I never saw him before meeting him on the ship.”
Wooyoung smiles but the gesture is more sad than anything else. He mimics your pose and tugs his knees up so he can rest his cheek against the bone there.
“She was only fifteen when she died. Poisoned, and even though her slave tested all her food and drink before letting her have it, it wasn’t enough to stop her from the attack. Turns out it was because the king himself had coated some of her jewelry in the poison, particularly the rings she used in her lip piercing. He said she was just a little sick, then when she got worse, it was the queen who stepped in and pushed the blame onto Gaeun’s slave.” Wooyoung draws his lips into a tight furl. “I was close with that girl, the one who belonged to Gaeun. Seeing her get blamed so heavily, I felt like she was going to die. But I suppose there was some modicum of guilt left in those wretched people because they banished her from the palace and city rather than killing her outright.”
“Yet living as a former slave is the same as asking for a death sentence,” you add, finishing the thought lingering at the tip of Wooyoung’s tongue. He huffs out a laugh.
“Which is why Yeo is so adamant about me not being found. He seems sure that one day the Aera Military is gonna sniff him out, then take me hostage as well. I think they’d have a hard time recognizing me, to be frank, but there’s no way in hell I would ever let Yeosang go willingly into that fate without me.” Wooyoung shifts to look over the expanse of water in front of him, eyes tracing over the black waves that threaten to touch his bare toes. “I never knew what happened to that girl after she was banished. I know she was… we came from the same place. Wherever the fuck that is. Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I hadn’t been taken from my home and sold as a slave. Sometimes I wonder why it had to be me, why I had to be born as a Siren and live this life, what I did to deserve this. And it would always come back to Yeosang. It was okay because I had Yeosang, I would be okay because he was in my life. He made existence as a slave less miserable when we were still on Aera, and then he freed me from that reality to be Jung Wooyoung instead of a Siren slave.
“I’ve had to face the question of ”who is Jung Wooyoung without Kang Yeosang“ so often because Yeosang is adamant that I do so, and yet I come up with the same answer every time. In answering that question, I don’t know who I am without him. It’s not that I don’t want to; I just don’t remember a time without him in my life and I-I don’t know how to rectify that.”
It’s hard to confront the issue in this way, made even more difficult by the fact that the architect of their destruction was none other than Wooyoung himself. The cracks were left in the surface by Yeosang, yet Wooyoung was the one to bring the hammer down against that fragile glass and shatter it completely.
How can you say such a thing to him now of all times though?
It’s simple enough — you can’t.
So you keep your lips shut and sealed, biting back the accusation on your tongue.
The passing silence leaves much to be desired, but for the time being, Wooyoung seems to be at ease. You hope your next statement won’t ruin that peace.
“Wooyoung, I need to — I have to tell you something.”
“I manipulated Hongjoong into doing what I wanted. The plans to come get me and save me from Jisung were mine. Me putting the idea into his head and getting him to go along with it.” Dark eyes flit up to meet yours. “I don’t know how I did it if I’m being honest. It was just sheer desperation trying to force the situation to go in my favor.” He goes without blinking for the better part of a minute, then he glances back down at the ground with lips slightly parted and air whistling through his teeth.
“So he… was just wanting to let you go? Without consulting the crew?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I was being hasty, but it wasn’t looking good for me, and he made the decision so quickly that I felt like I didn’t stand a chance.”
“He told us that was the plan from the start. Unless that’s something you planted too?” That’s a bigger sucker-punch than you’d like to admit, but it also stokes the fire in your gut that inches you closer and closer to hatred for the captain.
You shake your head a little to echo your denial.
“Then you did the right thing, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Did I?” It’s funny how in the place of hatred, guilt always finds a way to coexist, and not even survival instincts can keep morality out of the picture. The man beside you offers no answer and rather takes the opportunity to shift the subject again.
“I know you were calling for me for the past few days.” Wooyoung hugs his knees closer until his chin can rest between them. “I heard you. I’m sorry I didn’t let you in.”
“I couldn’t sense you at all,” you respond, voice quiet as the grave, but it sounds so loud in your ears. Wooyoung’s lips turn up at one corner.
“I know. It’s because I wasn’t sleeping. Tonight’s the first night I’ve slept since then. Yunho made me take some pills to help me rest because he was getting worried. Other than him… no one will even speak to me. I don’t think it’s mean-spirited, honestly. I think they want to, j-just don’t know how to.” A dry laugh tumbles from his lips. In one swift move, Wooyoung is sprawling on his back, legs kicked out to the shore of the lake as he throws his arms out across the sand. “Was it that bad? Did I really act bad enough for them to not talk to me?”
“It was…” your jaw stutters as you search for the right words, but you draw a blank. “Bad, yeah.”
“Tch, good. It needed to be bad to get through that thick fucking skull of his.”
“I could feel it, Wooyoung,” you continue, “in my chest. When you w-were crying and yelling at him, I could feel what you were feeling.”
The man beside you falls silent in a concerning way, and there’s nothing but the sound of water sloshing in front of you for a long period of time. When you finally dare to look back at Wooyoung, he’s got a hand stretched towards the sky with his palm outstretched to the moon and one eye closed.
“Is it awful for me to hope that he suffers?”
“You love him still regardless, don’t you?”
“For all it’s fucking worth.”
You take a moment to imagine yourself in Wooyoung’s shoes, with San in Yeosang’s place, but you can’t find anything in you that would wish harm or suffering on him. Another moment passes, and you think of Seonghwa. Still, no part of you hopes for him to be in pain even after the pain he caused you. It’s not comparable, and you know that. It leaves a bitter taste in the back of your throat, however, along with a myriad of thoughts that refuse to leave.
What kind of love hopes for suffering?
“I want him to feel the pain he caused me so he never does it again.”
When Wooyoung speaks, you realize the question slipped out into the open air against your will, and you ready to apologize for saying such a thing, but the man just shakes his head and continues with his train of thought.
“There are things he has to accept on my end. Traumas and pains I can’t overcome yet, or ones that he can’t fix. And I know that it goes vice versa as well, I’m not dumb enough to believe that it’s not. I just… I need him to see that if he doesn’t put in any effort to fix the things he’s struggling with, I won’t stay. The trauma with his parents runs deep, and I can’t fix that as much as I want to. Maybe a selfish part of me hoped that I would be a reason for him to want to overcome it.”
“The boy in the brothel, Wooyoung. Why did his death bother you so much? We live a life surrounded by death day in and day out.”
Wooyoung doesn’t balk under the sudden change of subject but he does lick over his lower lip as he drops his hand to his stomach.
“He was a Siren.”
“What?” That has you jerking to get a clearer look at Wooyoung’s expression, but it’s shockingly flat.
“I saw him in the Dreamscape every night. The nights I slept at least. He begged me to save him every single time. He didn’t want to be alone in his last moments, he didn’t want to be in pain anymore, he wanted me to kill him because he couldn’t stomach killing himself. I didn’t want to. Y/n, you have to believe me, I didn’t want to. I didn’t. I didn’t want to hurt him, I just — I w-was just doing what he — what he asked me to do.”
“What did you do?”
Wooyoung’s expression twists into something wretched.
“Wooyoung, what did you do?” Your tone is urgent in an alarming way, a sense of panic to it that your body hasn’t caught up with quite yet, and Wooyoung rolls onto his side like he’s trying to get away from you.
“I did what he said. I didn’t want to, I didn’t!”
You used to see people die every day. Most times they were wretched and awful people, but you can’t pretend like that’s what they all were. There were times — far more than you’d like to admit — where innocent people died, either at your hands or someone else on your team. The guilt and regret that came out of it was something you had to wrestle with, yet what you’re seeing in Wooyoung is a different beast entirely.
“I wasn’t supposed to hurt him. Seonghwa said… Seonghwa told me that I-I couldn’t — I wasn’t supposed to be able to hurt anyone! Hurting someone in the Dreamscape isn’t supposed to hurt them in real life, you have to understand that, please. Please, I didn’t mean to hurt him, not really.”
“He didn’t kill himself,” you whisper. It’s not a question; there’s no point in posing it as one when the answer is so blatantly laid out before you. It doesn’t make it easier to stomach though.
Wooyoung scrambles against the sand, all but dragging himself forward as he pulls himself into a kneeling position. It’s a moment of sheer instinct when you lean away from him. The impact is there nonetheless.
“I’m not going to hurt you!” Wooyoung shouts.
“I know. I know you’re not, Wooyoung. Please—”
You reach out to touch his shoulder only for the man to snatch you by the wrist with enough force to hurt, and a quiet hiss of pain rushes through your gritted teeth. Wooyoung ignores the sound and jerks against you. Either shock or panic takes over because you feel your body go pliant under his grip. Next thing you know, he’s dragging you along the rocky bed of the lake, into the shallow water that stains your clothes and leaves you cold underneath. Your gut reaction is to expect the worst, so when he drops to his knees in front of you with a quivering lip and wet tear tracks on his cheeks, you’re caught off-guard.
“You know what I did to him, Y/n?”
“I took him here, to this part of the lake, and I laid him down on his back.”
The stuttered shakes of your head don’t stop Wooyoung from laying flat against the rocky bed. Black water creeps around his form. The hold on your wrist won’t let up.
“I sat next to him just like how you are now, and I put a hand on his head.”
Wooyoung guides your hand to his face, pressing it to his forehead even though your fingers are trembling against his skin.
“I promised to make it as painless as possible. Then I held his face in both my hands and kissed his forehead and told him that things would be okay. I snapped his neck right after. Can you do that for me, Y/n?”
“No, no. No, Wooyoung, I’m not — I’m—”
“He wanted to die, Y/n. I did what he wanted. Why doesn’t it feel okay?” Wooyoung releases your wrist at last as a choked sob forces its way through his throat. You drop your chin to your chest but your hand lingers on his cheek. “Shouldn’t I feel good because I helped him? I took the pain away, didn’t I?”
“Y-You didn’t mean to…”
“I killed him, Y/n. And now I have to go stare into his younger brother’s eyes every fucking day like I didn’t?”
You try to get words out, some replica of comfort that doesn’t reach the air because a cry leads into a sob instead, and you drop your weight against Wooyoung’s body. His chest heaves under your head. When your hand reaches down in search of his, he meets you halfway and lets your fingers push through his.
“I cried monster to Yeosang when he hurt me, but now I have to face my reflection and desperately pretend like it’s not me instead.”
There’s a voice in your head that doesn’t belong to you, one that pesters at the edge of your thoughts and distracts you from the man in front of you. It’s not your own, nor is it Wooyoung’s or Seonghwa’s, but you’d recognize it anywhere. Your eyes find a figure in white at the edge of the lake, obscured from Wooyoung’s vision but not yours.
Tsukio, the Siren Iboun.
You glare at the man for all it’s worth.
I warned you from the start, Umiko. I told you of his nature. What happens next is your own doing.
When you wake, there’s a band of bruises wrapping around your wrist, ones that hold the imprints of fingers.
a/n: sooooo yeah... sorry? im sorry T-T we’re kicking off act six with a bang tho! i hope you enjoyed this opener, it sets up for a lot to come and it was heavy on dialogue this time around so thank u for putting up with me :D any theories? thoughts? questions? general yelling? :3
if you would like to, you can take the survey here! if you would like to be added to the taglist, just let me know!
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
genre: omegaverse, friends to lovers, fluff, polyamory, smut
chapter summary: desperate as he'll ever be, hongjoong is swept by your tidal wave.
content warnings: filth. that's it. just absolutely filthy phone sex. i'm not sorry.
"We can do that." Seonghwa's voice sounds so casual that at first Hongjoong isn't sure if he's heard him right. If that is the case, he guesses they'll find out sooner or later. "Why don't you get comfortable first?"
"Yeah, okay." He nods, trying to situate himself a little. Kicking off his duvet, he snuggles deeper into the mattress, wincing as he props himself up to rearrange his pillows. "My back is killing me." He huffs, flopping back down.
"Have you eaten yet?" You ask, he hums an affirmative that melts into a yawn.
"I did a little while ago," He tells you, a little stiffer than he would've liked. "Not exactly hungry right now."
"Then what are you?" Seonghwa asks, dripping with a fondness his entire body seems to soak up. Almost involuntarily, Hongjoong mellows out a notch, sighing. "Talk to us, love."
"Just nervous, I guess."
"There's no need for that." He coos, and normally the omega wouldn't like that tone, but now it's a very good grip in a situation he feels should have him unsteady on his feet. It's an extra reassurance he only needs now. This time, when he gushes out fresh slick, it comes with the softest of moans, warmth spreading under him. "We're always happy to help."
A little more jostled than he should probably be, he nods for no one to see. "Okay."
"What do you like, Joong?" It's your turn to ask, voice thick with intent. His hand is rubbing his stomach before he can ever help himself, chasing the comfort. "Do you want us to walk you though it?"
"Yeah," He breathes, and the words crack as he whines. "Yeah, please."
"How bad is it?" If he didn't know you better, he'd think you're making sure he's aware enough to be doing this. He is, he'd tell you, if you asked. Aware, just a little hyperfocused. "How many times have you finished so far?"
"Three since I woke up," He's quick to tell you. When he moves, or breathes too hard, or thinks about any of this, something comes out of him. Not a lot, but enough he's covered with the stuff by now. "Ah, I'm getting slick everywhere."
"That's not so bad, is it?" Seonghwa's voice takes on a strain he hasn't yet heard before. When he breathes out, it almost seems like— "On Y/N's ruts she cums like fifteen times before lunch, isn't that right?"
"Mmh," It shouldn't surprise him that they're sounding so riled up talking to him like this, but it does, so hard his free hand rushes to push down his soiled underwear, the movement almost violent. His cock bounces on his belly once, and he chokes on a grunt. He's not gonna last a full minute if he touches himself right now and he knows it. "Three is a little low, baby."
"It should be a lot worse tomorrow." He grits out, waiting for something to grab his aching erection, an invisible force pinning his arms to where they lie. "Probably won't be able to call." Maybe you should just come help me instead, he thinks so loud it breaks goosebumps all the way up his neck.
"Do you wanna try touching yourself a bit?" The alpha suggests, and he can't excuse his loud, clear whine at the relief of being allowed something he was never truly denied. It feels so good to know they're thinking about him jerking himself off, that they're attracted to the thought. A car passes by, then, and it brightens the room for just a second, just enough for him to be blessed with the sight of his aching cock in his palm.
"My dick is so red, fuck." He moans, and it cuts with every desperate flick of his wrist. His brain only half registers the obscene description, his mouth only half apologizes for the shamelessness. "Sorry, I wasn't—"
"You're so good, don't stop." Seonghwa sounds properly affected when he tells him, and the underlining demand in his tone drags him so close he can barely speak. "Tell us how it feels."
"I'm not gonna last, Hwa, I'm—" Hongjoong cums right then, so hard he moans and cries for arguably longer than what it took him to get there, drawing out the feeling until his wrist can't keep the rhythm anymore.
"There you go." You coo, and it's almost mocking, but not quite. His cock twitches all the same, still aching underneath the momentary numbness. He doesn't bother letting go of himself, because the warmth of his hand helps him feel some comfort as he heaves.
"Did that feel good?" Seonghwa pokes, a little out of breath, and he desperately wants to know why, despite not feeling brave enough to ask. Maybe he's getting a handjob as you speak, you could be riding him for all he knows. He clenches around nothing, sweat gathering at his hairline.
"Yeah, fuck." He begs, hand moving again. "Don't stop, please."
"We'll stop when you ask us to, my love." It's so charming how he says it, and if it's possible, his heart beats even faster in silly fluster.
"Ah, I just know you smell so good right now," You grunt, and Seonghwa follows, a relatable little sound. Come smell me, then, he'd say, if he was a braver man. "You're always so sweet, baby."
"Y/N, please, please," He cries instead, sliding lower on the bed as he does. The constant noise of his hand on his cock bounces in his eardrums. "Don't—don't, ah,"
"Bet you taste just as good," But you keep going, and so does Hongjoong, legs spreading so he can push his hips up. The clenching of his muscles burns so good, and he realizes you can hear him slowly lose it. "Don't you think, Hwa?"
"I could taste the air for days after he left." The tone changes, a roughness that has him calling your names as he mewls. The wet sound of a kiss sends him reeling, body so hot he's sure he won't bear cumming this time, this is going to tear him apart, and yet he never dares to stop. "Ate you out with his smell in my nose."
"Fuck." By the time he realizes he's crying, he's too far gone to care. Pleasure builds and builds, far more than what he thinks he can take at once. "Fuck I can't, please, fuck—"
"And he sounds so good like this, doesn't he?" Breathless, you tell Seonghwa, like Hongjoong isn't even there, like he's a dream, a secret fantasy. There's not much to do but sob, legs shaking as he gets ever closer to release. "I wanna fuck him until he's like a ragdoll."
"And then I'll fuck him so full he'll be drooling all over himself while you ride him." It's so mean, so cruel of him to say it like that, and yet all the omega feels is the itching of desperation to have it, to fulfill those promises. "He'd look so good, babe, so good for us."
"I'm gonna—" Slick lazily dripping onto the sheets, he cums so hard his very sense of smell gets knocked off the rockers for a few seconds, body contracting and shaking and moaning so loud he later hopes Wooyoung has headphones on. He rides and rides and it never seems to end, cum pooling on his fingers and lower belly.
"You're so good, Hongjoongie." You dote on him, like he's the fucking apple of your eye, and he basks in it like the pathetic softie he is, whining in between hagged breaths. "So precious."
"Do you want to rest a bit more now?" Seonghwa nudges him out of his stupor, gentle as ever, and he has half a mind to reach for the baby wipes he's left on his nightstand, half-assedly cleaning his own mess to the sound of the alpha's voice. "You can call later if you need."
"I want to, but," Already slurring his words, Hongjoong tries to articulate. "Can you talk until I fall asleep?"
Warnings: Some drinking, mentions of college party culture, vampire au, slight mentions of sexual acts, slightly aggressive manhandling (Ateez just being literally thirsty guys).
Pairing: None Yet (Alluding to San x Reader, Seonghwa x Reader and Wooyoung x Reader).
Word Count: 2,347.
A/N: hi everyone! SURPRISE! oh my god, so I just have to preface with the fact that I absolutely love vampire concepts and the fact that two of my groups (Ateez and NCT 127) both released vampire songs/concepts/music videos for Halloween had me a complete M E S S! I knew I wanted to do a vampire Ateez blurb for a minute now but couldn’t think of a plot I genuinely liked until tonight! I hope you all enjoy it and stay tuned for a second and maybe third?? part!
After weeks of meticulous planning, exciting banter and non-stop waiting, the time had arrived. It was Halloween weekend, and what better party to have than a costume party? The entire college campus had been anxiously awaiting the arrival of the festive weekend to plan their best costumes, decorate their living quarters, and hopefully, throw three continuous and unforgettable parties.
The air was brisk, wind picking up as the sun had begun to set. Walking along the concrete sidewalk my heels echoed the rhythm of my steps. My friends next to me were chattering excitedly about all the different costumes they had liked as they had spent the past few hours scrolling on Instagram. We originally had planned our costumes to all be The PowerPuff Girls, but with a mixup on who was going to be which PowerPuff sister simply ended up with us throwing together a last minute sexy-esque costume. Meaning, I was now walking in the cold with a black dress, heels, and some leopard print cat ears. Simple, but at least it was something.
We approached our destination; a large house at the end of the block of fraternity row. Other students had also been walking along with us, with a fairly sized crowd of people littered across the front lawn. We saw all kinds of costumes: various Marvel superheroes, firefighters, Frankenstein, zombies and vampires. Getting closer to the entrance I could see just how packed the house was, leaving almost no room as the steady flow of people took up every corner of the downstairs and spilled out into the backyard. Was this the whole school? Probably, but it was definitely going to be a night for the books.
“Alright ladies, we remember the plan, yes?” My friend and roommate asked us one last time, brushing her mini skirt down and subtly adjusting the padding in her bra.
I rolled my eyes with a chuckle as my other friend spoke up in response, “Have a good time, don’t drink too much—”
“And get our backs blown out!” They squealed in unison, high-fiving once more before looping their arms together, grabbing my hand and officially stepping through the front doorway.
The Halloween themed playlist boomed throughout the walls of the spookily decorated frat house. Skeletons hung by the neck and spiderwebs clung to doorways and archways. Bodies of students dressed up in their first of three outfits bumped along to the music, grinding and tossing their heads back in an intoxicated delight.
My friends were quick to mesh in with the rest of the crowd, so I guided myself into the kitchen and walked up to the alcohol table. A man unconvincingly dressed as Thor offered me a shot which I took delightedly, and after a few more pours grinned at me excitedly.
“Thanks!” I gave him a thumbs up, grabbing a plastic orange and black pumpkin cup to pour myself some spiked cider. He simply flashed his biceps, throwing me a finger gun as he went back to his bros deep within the mob of dancing people.
I sipped eagerly at my sparkly drink, feeling how quickly the mixing of alcohol laced into my veins and sparked a courageous burst of ridiculous dance moves. Alone I slowly lifted my hands up, holding my cup in the air as my other arm fluttered along to the beat of the song. I closed my eyes, floating along to the rhythm when suddenly I was pulled out of my veil of enjoyment.
“Hey,” A slightly higher pitched voice caught my attention on my right side. Turning to face him, I was met with a guy just slightly taller than me, with dark black hair combed somewhat nicely; bangs towards the front. His skin was a porcelain white, making his red stained lips pop even with the lack of light in the kitchen. Wearing a lacy white shirt with an open slit down the middle of his chest, he leaned against the kitchen island with a smirk on his face.
I glared into his tar black eyes, already feeling its tenacious effects as I felt myself stuck in place, “Hi there.”
“You look like you're having fun,” He grinned, flashing me a smile as he lifted a chip from the bowl next to him and brought it up to my mouth, which suddenly lay open and waiting as the salty snack entered my mouth, “You’re a good dancer.”
In the middle of my chew I chuckled slightly, bringing a hand up to make sure a stray crumb didn’t embarrassingly spill out, “Oh absolutely not, but thank you.”
I walked over to the drinks table, lifting the silver ladle with a full spoonful of cider to refill my cup, “So what year are you—” Turning around to continue the conversation with the pale beauty, I found myself asking thin air as suddenly the spot he was standing in previously was now occupied by a couple taking their turn at the guacamole dip.
“Huh.” I shrugged, bringing my cup up to my lips and downing yet another glass.
The night raged on, it seemed as if the house could burst with the amount of students packed inside. I felt inescapably intoxicated, dancing with anyone around me who lent themselves to my ridiculous dance moves. My roommates had abandoned the party earlier in the night, feeling too drunk and much too sleepy to keep up with the aggressive ambiance of the frat house.
Another hour passed by and slowly the crowd began to dwindle. I didn’t even bother to check the time on my phone as I stumbled out towards the front door. A few obviously jock football teammates sulked by the side of the house, sharing some sort of lit drug that polluted the air with a faint gray smoke. I continued along the path I came before, my heels once again clacking along the cold pavement. I pulled my arms up into a hug, the wind now blowing against me and slightly slowing me down in my tracks as I tried my best to navigate my way back.
Feeling that same addicting glare on me from my strange encounter earlier that night, I glanced behind me, but to no avail. I paused a moment, allowing the dim street light to illuminate the dark shadows of the neighborhood. Still not noticing anything out of place, I trudged along, trying a bit to pick up my pace.
Turning the corner out of the neighborhood and onto the main road, I pulled the obnoxious cat ears off of my head. With how cheap they were I was honestly quite surprised I hadn’t lost them earlier in the night. Passing by a few closed storefronts, the street was mostly empty, save for a stray car that would zip by in a hurry. My apartment building lay just across the four way intersection, and then after a quick shower I could lay snug in my bed and await the hangover that loomed in the near future.
If only I’d gotten that far.
A large, empty storage building lay desolate amongst the various shops as nobody had resided there for years. I shuddered to myself as I approached it, not even wanting to glance inside at the haunting walls as the desired destination of my apartment was just less than a side street away.
All too suddenly multiple pairs of hands grasped at my arms, covering my mouth and lifting me up off of the ground as I was carried in a frenzy out of the street and into the haunted structure. I thrashed around desperately, trying my best to break away from the powerful grips that held me in place.
My body was then dropped hastily on the ground, my hair swooping in front of my face and obstructing my view. “OW!” I groaned, “What the fuck was that?”
Pushing the strands of hair out of my eyes I looked up to eight ghostly figures surrounding me. Dressed in variously laced white gothic shirts and impressively designed black pants, each boy had their own version of an ancient Transylvanian-esque attire. Their skin was barely whiter than the chipped walls surrounding us, not even a hint of life gleaming from their porcelain cheeks. Some of their eyes glowed a red hue under the trickling moonlight, others much too dark and hidden to even be considered a normal eye color. They watched me with fervor, and I could feel my heart racing against the thin confines of my black dress.
“Wait a minute, I know you.” My eyes narrowed on one of them, and giving my drunken mind an extra moment to process, I realized that it was the same pale face I had talked to earlier, “You fed me a chip.”
He said nothing, just a sultry grin tugging at his lips.
“You talked to her?” A deeper voice questioned, and I turned my head to realize a man with a cotton candy blue hair had spoken up, “She was mine.”
“You know the rules, Wooyoung. Once we pick a human you cannot interfere.” A guy near the middle of the group spoke sternly, directing his anger toward the boy next to him.
He rolled his eyes, letting out a whine, “I didn’t do anything! I just said hello. It’s not like I was also going to eat her, I knew she was already taken.” His tone was annoyed, but he would glance down at me with that same faint smirk.
“You still should have kept your distance,” A pink haired guy snapped back in response, “No matter how… delicious she might be.”
From there the rest of the group chirped up in response, all sharing their opinion over an apparently broken sacred rule. ‘What the fuck is happening right now’ I thought, feeling like I was in some sort of a convoluted fever dream.
Lifting a hand up slowly I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion as I tried my best to form a sentence out of the jumble of thoughts zipping through my mind, “Ho-hold on a minute…”
The boys grew quiet, all eight stoic glares on me now, “Hi. Yeah, okay this is very strange and, honestly probably borderline illegal, but am I really sitting here listening to you guys argue about… who gets to eat me?” My voice wavered towards the end, my question coming out in a slight squeak as I realized how terrifyingly ridiculous it sounded.
“Yes. We’re vampires.” The one who I’d assumed by now was probably the leader responded confidently. “San had chosen you as his meal for tonight.”
The blue haired flirt lifted an eyebrow suggestively at me, bringing his hand up to his jaw as he cupped it slightly.
“Okay… yeah I get it, its Halloween and you guys are all dressed up— hilarious,” I tried to rationalize with a chuckle, “But when you say, eat, is that like a… sex thing?”
“A sex thing?” A silver haired guy with a black and red cape at the end of the line puzzled at me.
I nodded, and the pink haired guy let out a sarcastic laugh, “Not exactly. But it can if you want it to be.”
“Everybody, stop.” The leader harshly declared, lifting a hand up and seemingly silencing the line of men he stood besides.
“We… really are vampires. San really was going to feed on you tonight. But you wouldn’t stay still at the party so we decided it would be better to grab you on your way home. However, since Wooyoung—” He turned to give a glare at the cheeky boy on his left, who now avoided any eye contact and stared intently at the floor underneath him, “— apparently interfered with San’s kill, well… we need to figure out what to do.”
He turned back towards Wooyoung, giving the younger boy a slight punch on the arm as he stepped back into place. I shook my head, seemingly now more lost than before, “Hold on— rewind a second. Kill? I thought he was just going to… eat me… So you guys aren’t like a weird sex cult or something?”
“Is she serious?” A blonde guy at the other end of the line muttered as he turned around and put a hand on his head, “We’re wasting our time. There are so many other people at that party, we all could’ve eaten by now.”
“He’s right,” another one chirped up, “I’m fucking starving, Hongjoong. Let’s just go.”
For the second time in this bizarrely real conversation the choir of eight voices all began to speak up against each other. I couldn’t believe how absurdly calm I was, but the alcohol still laced in my system was certainly helping (Or maybe it wasn’t?).
“Okay, she was originally San’s so he gets to decide whether or not Wooyoung can stay. The rest of us must leave since we’ve got,” He pulled out a small gold pocket watch that was tucked previously away in an inside pocket of his velvet black coat, “about three hours left of moonlight. Can everyone hunt in that time?”
A soft murmur of ‘yeses’ filled the air. Pink hair lifted a finger, “I’m also staying. I want to taste her too… even if it’s just a drop.”
Again, another delectable smirk.
Wooyoung groaned as he walked over to his pink haired friend, “I go first though, Seonghwa, you never leave any blood left when you eat before me!”
“I think we’re just skipping over the part where I’m going to die, okay?” I chirped in, waving my hand to grab their attention again, “Let’s go back to that, yeah?”
Hongjoong raised his lips up into a bright smile, flashing me a wink before he snapped his fingers, and in the blink of an eye he and four other guys had dashed out of the abandoned building.
“Great,” I huffed, “so that did nothing.”
Seonghwa and Wooyoung began to bicker between themselves as the brightly blue haired San strut over to me, bending down with a hand extended toward me,
if you read, please consider leaving feedback (comment or - preferably - ask box [anon allowed]) or reblogging with tags !! <3
ATEEZ WITH BREEDING KINKS
pairings: ateez (seperately) x fem!reader
genre: suggestive, smut, bullet-point
18+ content - minors dni
warnings: breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, unprotected vaginal sex
taglist ; @wooyoungsbae
regular masterlist | the pirates map (navi)
has definitely thought about it
but was scared to bring it up to you
he'd mark you with hickeys, write his name on your skin in ink, but drew a - reasonable - line at fucking you full of his cum?
one night, you two were... yknow
"fuck, where do you want my cum, baby?" he asks as he presses kissed against your neck, making sure to be gentle around the already forming bruises
when you whine that you want him to come inside... oh shit
its all over for you
and once you saw the smirk and quirked brow he offered you, you realized that it was over for you as well
"yeah? want me to fill you up?" he says, his thrusts quickening as he seems to push deeper than he had before. "you want me to fuck my cum into your pretty pussy?"
all you could do was whine as you felt his warm seed fill your insides <3
he likes how close it makes you two feel to one another !!
he's never really thought about it
to be fair, neither had you
it was a very,, spur of the moment kind of thing
you were both so invested in making the other feel good, you were willing to do anything to make the other feel more pleasure
he didn't realize it would be something he - and you - would enjoy that much until the time came
"are you close, honey?" he asks against your shoulder as you bounce on top of him, taking him so well
"so c-close, joongie," you say, your voice breaking slightly as a moan escapes you. "inside, please. wan' it s-so bad, please."
he couldn't deny you even if he wanted to
the way your face shifts into one of sheer pleasure once you feel his seed inside
he cant wait to see you like that again
i feel like he has thought about it the most out of every ateez member
i feel like he acts very laid back, but is actually quite possessive of you
"hang out with who you want, but once you come home, i'll make sure you know who loves you the most" type of bf
is not afraid of marking you
neck, thighs, chest - there's been a hickey there at some point
he understands that the thought of getting pregnant can be scary, so he never brought up the thought of cumming inside of you unless you presented the idea first
so when you looked up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to fill you up
it felt like he had just regained all of his previous stamina from how his pace increased
"aww, does tiny want my cum inside her? make her tummy nice and round so everyone knows who she belongs to?" he would taunt, watching as you moan. "bet you'd like that, hm?"
he would be weary at first
he was always super cautious, so when you brought it up to him casually, he thought you were joking
once he found out you were serious, he took some time to think about it
you were on the pill, after all
"holy shit-" he would say as he finishes inside, watching as your squirm under him. the feeling of his cum around himself as he fucked into you, it was better than he could have ever imagined. "g-gonna get hard again, you feel so good."
let's just say, he didn't even get a chance to pull out before he got hard again
he would 100% tease you about it when you brought it up
would have you come sit on his lap as you talked about it, looking up at your with half lidded eyes as you explained it to him
nodding every now and then and watching as you stuttered above him
would smirk once you finished talking
i think you know where it goes from there
you'd be on top of him, he'd be bouncing you up and down as he attacked your neck, whispering praises about how you were so good, and how you are gonna look so pretty with a round tummy
once he finished inside, he'd insist on you staying on top of him with his cock still inside you
"we don't want any to spill out, do we?"
he'd be a bit flustered at first
he feels like that's something super intimate, and you wanted to do it with him???
he'd take such good care of you
"are you ready, love?" he says from above you, your face flushed and lips puffy as you look at him. "you look so beautiful like this."
a straggled moan leaves his mouth as he finishes inside you, not used to the feeling of your walls clenching around him as he fills you
his breathing goes rigid as he looms over you, your breath mixing with his as he leans down and kisses your lips softly
"can we please do that again?"
he is on you so fast
does not waste a SECOND
lips on yours, pushing you against the nearest surface
he loved how you so quickly responded to him, whining for him and begging
he would Fuck You Against The Wall
holds you up while pounding into you <3
"you're gonna have to beg for it, doll"
and oh, you do
when he finally cums inside, he stills himself, leaning against you and smushing you between him and the wall as you both catch your breath
"do you think you have another round in you?" he asks, his hips rutting into yours softly, the thought of filling you up again already getting him hard
feel like he'd be like "why do you want a baby when i'm right here >:|"
then you explain that it was just for the thought and he was like "ohhhh :O"
yeahh much like wooyoung - wastes no time
he leads you to your shared room and lays you down gently, taking his time with you
he treats you so well :(
but when he finally finishes inside you, something suddenly changes in him
the feeling of you so desperately milking his cock of everything he had to offer riled him up more
after you both came, his pace didn't let up
"j-jongho! 's too mu-much!"
"you can fit a bit more can't you? i want to watch it drip from your pretty pussy."
“If my memory serves me right, I told you to choose a navy blue tie, haven’t I?”
You sighed as your fiancé made his entrance to your office without a care to your protest. You thanked your assistant with your head who was fixing your black jacket. Hongjoong had been working with you ever since you took over your job and was your biggest source of help. He took care of you and your personal life since you had tendency to lose control over it sometimes. To be honest, he was also like a big brother: which was why he chuckled as the one he called “the problem child” was unable to fulfill the only task he was given. He had won the bet you had.
“You owe me a meal.”
Your secretary saluted you before leaving the office to give you two some privacy. You sighed as Wooyoung got comfortable on the single couch in front of your big glass desk. He was cladded in a beige and white suit with two of his buttons open to reveal the tip of his collarbones. He was supposed to match your navy blue dress-shirt with his tie. However, it seemed he had plans of his own. Today was supposed to be the day of the press conference where your companies announced your engagement and the color-matching was a necessity in your opinion since you seemed nowhere to be in love.
He checked the clock on his wrist. You two still had fifteen minutes until it was time to do the announcement that would signal the end of your independent life.
“I won’t apologize, darling since I got us something better.”
Deciding to ignore his words, you approached him from the back of the desk after getting a box from the drawer next to the library. As you got closer, his distraction went to your perfectly round butt covered tightly by your skirt. It wasn’t long or as tight but you were working out enough to be the way you felt proud yourself since the breaks in your schedule as short like the dresses worn by your fiancé’s past lovers seen at parties. Wooyoung found his eyes lingering on you, well on your curves, meaninglessly for a second before collecting himself. He knew you wouldn’t give into the temptation: not in your personal life or sexual one. A background check was made way before you had come to an agreement in that restaurant. You were the perfect leash that his parents would have the ability to control him with. Your image was so important that your dignity wouldn’t approve to hear the gossip created by your husband. The society would blame and try to control you even if you didn’t even care if something had happened to him on normal conditions. To add up to the equation, he would never settle down, let alone with a workaholic woman who was evidently programmed to avoid relationships while there were many other people hoping to be an assistance to his needs and desires. Despite the regretful situation at hand, he decided to regard it as a challenge. At least he thrived for them and now, you were his new possible entertainment, not to mention you two were stuck with each other in the South Korea’s borders. Just when you were pulling out the tie out of its box, he swiftly pulled you so that you found yourself sitting on his lap with his arm supporting you from the waist. Momentarily your eyes grew from the action of falling but you came back to your senses just as fast without him realizing the change. Your voice came out bored.
“If this is the ‘something better’ you are talking about: I hate to break it to you but I’m not interested.”
As if not even a least bothered by his actions, just to avoid him getting more enthusiastic, you insisted on making him put the tie on while still sitting on his lap with an unchanged expression. This time, he was the one whose eyes grew. You never ceased to do the unexpected. Wooyoung initially thought you would despise the contact and shove him off but there you were, calmly sitting on his muscular thighs insisting on the navy blue cloth and not even showing a sign of blush. However, he was never the one to refuse a good provocation.
“You tie it.”
You scoffed at his order but seeing no sign of giving up from the way he looked at you with a smirk on his face, your hands got into the work, pulling your face closer to his in the process. You locked your eyes with his as if it was a challenge while your hands busied themselves with the high-quality fabric. His lips were a breath away from yours although no one leaned in for a kiss. Just then, he thought the thing possibly more amusing than the current situation would be doing the thing himself- that you probably thought was the thing he expected you to. In your mind, you knew he wanted to feed his ego by witnessing your hunger for his body. You were sure this was just a provocation for you to either shy away or to give in: he was just testing you if you would be a good toy for him. However, Wooyoung wanted to see you stagger. He smoothly leaned in and connected your lips just when you finished your work with his tie. While you were trying to get your series of thoughts in order, he pushed his tongue in your mouth and grabbed the back of your neck to pull you closer. Amazed, you froze as his tongue tasted your palate. The more deeper he got, the more you felt his hold on you tightened. It took you a minute to realize your position until you pushed his shoulders aggressively, finally stepping back on your feet.
As you were trying to hide the blush on your face, you turned your face to your purse and searched for something… anything.
“I guess this is supposed to be my leash?”
When you turned back to him upon his words about his tie, still trying to adapt into the situation, you recognized he was sitting just like nothing happened. Instead of waiting for an answer, he pointed to his own lips to give you the remark that your lipstick was smudged and was waiting to get fixed. After you turned around to see it for yourself in the mirror, he touched his own lips to see if there was color stain on it. Contrary to his calm appearance, his mind was going crazy. He liked kissing you. No, he loved it so much that it scared the hell out of him. Also, the sight of you with a slight redness on your defined cheeks didn’t help at all. He had found his new prey: a pretty rare one at that. A one that was surely out of his reach even if you would be bound to him on the paper. While you were busy with your make up, he silently approached you from the back and whispered in your ear. Thankfully, you saw him coming closer so you could avoid reacting dramatically.
“Then, let me present you your own collar.”
His hands gently found yours and the presence of a cold metal surrounded your ring finger of your right hand. You tilted your head upwards to a smirking Wooyoung. You hated the idea of wearing HIS ring but no complaint left your mouth since it worked as a show.
He is unbelievable, you thought.
“You are an idiot, you know that right?”
The ring looked like two separate thin bands one being in the form of ivy as diamonds filled the place of the leafs and the other one looked like a classic engagement ring. It was simple yet elegant. You had always hated the idea of a big accessory since you also had to attend your work so it suited your tastes well. However, there was no need for him to know that he gained your approval. He chuckled and gave you some personal space before settling back down on the couch.
“If you say so…”
The flashlights surrounded your figure as you ascended the stage with Wooyoung’s hand supporting you from the small of your back. You inadvertently thought there was no need for this kind of physical show, especially after having a taste of his lips but you formed no protest since cameras were watching your every move. Alongside tabloids, representatives of your business partners and your families were also present, except for one person from his side. After sitting on the chair that was prepared for you two beforehand, you leaned sideways to ask the question to Wooyoung while showing your most dignified smile to the cameras.
“He’s not here?”
Of course Wooyoung understood well who you were talking about. Nevertheless, he chose to stay silent. He and his adopted brother Choi Yeonjun had an estranged relationship whom you also had a major crush on during your high school years and briefly faked dating with. He was your first fake boyfriend that gave way for the rest. With you tying the knot to Wooyoung, his brother would be guaranteeing his place not in the spotlight but in some secondary job in the company. While you were busy with his questionable absence, your father took the microphone to personally make the announcement everyone was waiting for.
“I feel utmost happiness while giving you the news that our Y/N made her first move into forming her own family. I am genuinely grateful to have a son-in-law like Wooyoung.”
You smiled bitterly while your father went on with his speech that hinted his good parenting skills. You were sure that he was aware of Wooyoung’s reputation despite his expressiveness of positive emotions but oh well… what can’t one withstand to make a profit? While the talk went on the background with the journalists focusing on your father, Wooyoung answered your thoughts vaguely.
“He’s probably at home drinking his sorrows away.”
A smirk could be seen faintly in your fiancé’s face. You shrugged off his weird sense of accomplishment and looked forward. You would never know the real reason Yeonjun would be devastated, only thinking of him losing power as a reason. Also, you had no opportunity to lurk on your old crush’s emotions as it was your turn to take the mic and answer the questions. Both of you did well answering the journalists regarding both the collaborations of the two companies and the merging of the families. However, when a voice from the back of the room questioned how could the two of you had decided to go steady when just a week ago Wooyoung was seen with a famous model in the industry your mind went black. Your relationship didn’t have a back story which was truthfully an amateur mistake on your side. However, unlike you, your fiancé held your hand on the table confidently while at the same time making eye-contact with you, his being narrowed. He was making your anxiousness seem as a fit of jealousy. Wooyoung brushed his nose with his free thumb and acted as if he had enough with these kinds of rumors. However, you knew he was actually annoyed since you had heard from Hongjoong prior to your arrangement that he wasn’t the one to have enough toleration with those who tried to dig out the details.
“Well, first of all, I admit that I have made mistakes in the past and that my record is far from being pure white.”
He gave a pause to give a look at you to give you a nod to which you responded the same way, portraying a couple who had talked to go through these kind of accusations beforehand. You smiled assuringly while from the inside you were acknowledging his ability to adapt into situations once more.
“However, I will not accept this kind of closed statements not only for now but also for the future. I don’t remember giving anyone the right to mess with my beloved fiancée’s feelings in such a way.”
You gave a good amount of effort into holding back your laughter upon hearing the word “beloved.” On the other hand, Wooyoung continued his speech calmly.
“Although I think this has nothing to do with the reason we have assembled for, I will put under the light these kinds of issues also for the future reference: Miss Kim Yeong-Hee, the lady that you were talking about will be the first contracted model for the agency that will be under my jurisdiction.”
This was news to you, too. You had never thought Wooyoung would step up and do actual work for a financial profit. Unlike you, his parents seemed to know about this investment of their son. With him dodging the scandal away, the conference continued as planned.
While the supposedly undercover cameras were filming enough footage for a week of you and Jung Wooyoung, your fiancé leaned down to give you a hug in front of the gates to the airport.
“Please prevent your lust to show any kind of physical affection to your flings when you sense a camera around.”
That was your only wish from him upon his flight to Milan. As promised, he was on his way far away from your territory where you would require no need to play the couple. After the press conference, you had learned that the modeling agency would also help him evade any front page stories of the magazines so all he had to do was to not let anyone see him kissing or groping anyone other than you… which was something you definitely wanted to avoid.
“I can promise that.”
A smile appeared on his face mocking the way in which untrusting you were of him. He had the pretext of fashion week to find more people for the agency in order to leave the country just after the announcement where people would be expecting you to appear as a couple.
The voice escaped your lips as you remembered something you had brought with you. He let you slip away from his embrace but didn’t consider it necessary to step away. Your hands searched through your bag until you’ve found what you prepared beforehand. Wooyoung’s eyes grew before he laughed until tears fell from his eyes.
“Please make sure to use these. I don’t want anyone knocking on my door later on.”
There, you held out a lot of condoms to him of a size you learned from an ex of his. When you asked her of it and she turned into a pale shade of red, you nearly mistook her of suffocating. Wooyoung took a glance at them and accepted your “present.”
“If it were a couple of years ago, we could’ve used them together in your regular hotel room.”
You over-exaggeratingly sighed while holding your chest with a hand.
“Thank god I left the industry years ago, then.”
Before you took your first step into the family business, you used to work as a model but it only served as a good memory and your previous fame followed you as the paparazzis appeared out of nowhere. Wooyoung had found it a pity when you announced your retirement from the runway all those years ago. You had real talent in his eyes to the extent that he had never tried approaching you and ruin your career with rumors.
That was how funny the thing called “fate” was - with him now having the person he previously considered a jewel with a shiny jewel occupying her ring finger… now only as people with the same goal. His hands found their place on your waist to which your brows momentarily twitched.
“Be a good girl and find a way to break it all off before I find a way to fuck you, darling.”
You chuckled and reached the nape of his neck, your other hand pulling the bleached part of his hair harshly. This gesture would easily be mistaken as a show of affection if the cameras caught on his momentarily painful expression.
“I’ll start looking into it tomorrow. I’ll attend Lia’s party today.”
Lia was one of your friends from the inner circle which you made acquaintance from your modeling days. She was a famous actress who also had connections to your company. To your announcement of attendance, Wooyoung made an expression of uneasiness which you missed between your thoughts of the preparation that had yet to be done. Therefore, without realizing the change of emotions in your fiancé, you let him go and pushed him forward.
“Go now and don’t return until I call for you.”
Then, you watched him disappear behind the doors while waving to each other, giving a couple of good shots for the people dying for a slip up.
You tried covering yourself up once more before entering the grand party hall. The dress was chosen by one of the other girls in the group since you couldn’t find the time to go shopping but the V-line was a lot deeper than your taste. Inside, you’ve found hard to believe how could your friend could have this much RSVPs in a short amount of time. Unlike the high number of people filling all around, it didn’t feel suffocating thanks to the high ceiling that was full with countless modern type chandeliers. You’ve stopped thinking they were useless a long time ago since the venue was close to being pitch dark. The party was planned under the pretext of Lia’s new movie but suspiciously, your other best friend from the group was the one who came up with the idea.
The mastermind, Eun-bin called you to the table just across the bar and behind the dancing area. It was honestly strange for someone who preferred small gatherings would be okay with planning such a big scale event just after she had finished hosting one a week ago. A second after you got seated next to your friends, Eun-bin took a hold of your hand and shrieked upon inspecting the delicate design of your ring as much as she could under the dimmed lights. Lia simply scoffed and threw an over-exaggerated congratulations to your side.
“To your little personal leash!”
As a woman who was secretly in an established polyamorous relationship, she was proud of not being closed to getting married soon. You simply narrowed your eyes and called for a waiter to bring you your dress.
“I personally think it was time. You couldn’t keep up with fake boyfriends for longer.”
Eun-bin took a big sip from her drink and leaned back in her seat, leaning on Lia. Her neckline was deeper than yours, leaving a lot more in the open. Unlike your long and black dress with shiny straps, hers was a short burgundy. While fixing her knee-high boots, she continued her agreement with your choice.
“People had already gossiping that we were in a relationship but you were trying to hide it away with other men. You couldn’t fake the role of a lovely girlfriend for longer, wifey.”
Since she was also in a similar situation with her company pushing marriage candidates in front of her, Eun-bin was the only one who was siding with you tying the knot. At least that was what you had been told by her. To add to the equation, the rumors surrounding your group of friends weren’t surprising to the ears saying that four of you were actually romantically and sexually involved with each other. While you had your own suspicions about Lia and Eun-bin since they were unusually comfortable with each other physically, at least you were sure of your own sexual preferences being towards the opposite sex. However, being always around them and Eun-bin calling you your pet name no matter where you were didn’t give you the credibility for it.
When your thoughts finalized, you realized a person missing from the table. Dori, the baby of your infamous group appeared with her iconic buns on her head and literally screamed when she saw you with a dress you would NEVER wear. Her pitch was so high that even the party goers who were at a closer vicinity glanced at your table.
“So you had to get engaged for us to see you in such masterpiece?”
She was a world-known designer who had nearly gave her life trying to get you to model for her after your retirement to no avail. The design of your dress also belonged to her. You shrugged, understanding fully now that your dress was chosen under an agreement between Eun-bin and Dori before sliding in on the round shaped sofa to open a seat for her and let her arms slide around you for a second before she reached her skinship rate for the day.
“I thought you ditched us. You’re late.”
Eun-bin grumbled as usual while Lia leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. You chuckled when her pout became more obvious each second until she finished her drink upon seeing you let Dori hug you. She had continuously asked for the same amount of touchyness from you to only get a “no” saying that you were attracting enough rumors. You dissipated the argument before it started.
“Just get used to it, she takes longer to get ready.”
Eunbin put her tongue out but stopped her grumbles. Then, the topic changed when Lia pulled the attention to the latest gossip in the entertainment circles.
“You know that I’ll be co-starring Kim Jung-hoon, right?”
The man in question was Eunbin’s actor crush, thus, you thought was the reason of the party. However, creating a contrast to your thoughts, Eun-bin seemed distracted with her drink. After a while of toleration, you tried to get the girls to dance a little to no avail. Even if you consumed no amount of alcohol, you felt more at ease in places like this. Unlike your eagerness to have fun and forget the pain in your ass who was now in Milan, the mood somehow felt down in your eyes.
“What’s wrong with her?”
You nudged Dori with your elbow and asked about the host of the party. Her eyes followed yours and vocalized your question to your friend.
“I think I’m getting drunk.”
Was the answer you received but it didn’t seem like the truth considering she had always been the happiest drunk in the group. Although it bugged you a little, you didn’t press forward with the issue. As your waiter came with your so-called drink and an nth round for the others, Lia noticed the newcomers to the party.
“Were they invited?”
Seeing the ones mentioned, Eun-bin pulled herself forward from Lia’s embrace and took a big sip from her drink. Seonghwa, San, Yeosang, Mingi and Jongho entered the venue first. After getting a drink from a waitress walking around, Seonghwa raised a glass towards your table and lead the group to their respective places. You nearly spilled your drink upon realizing the group that followed them.
“I may have reached out to Mingi and told them about it.”
Your high school crush and brother-in-law entered the venue in his shiny dark purple jacket and made eye contact with you before getting seated in the booth next to Seonghwa’s with his friends.
“And Yeosang might have mentioned it to Yeonjun.”
No sane venue owner would reject these people even if they weren’t invited-which was also the case for your group. People your age would use their every connection and unimaginable resources in order get in to the parties these three groups hosted, hoping to gain some connections or at least get a glimpse of you. While you were busy throwing blades from your eyes to Dori who was seated next to you, you missed the other figure who followed his friends from a bit behind and got comfortable next to Seonghwa.
It wasn’t hard to come to the conclusion that it would be a necessity for you to avoid Yeonjun considering your past which every single being in this booth was familiar with. Especially since you were now engaged. A slip of behavior… and you would fill the headlines next day. Although your mind was filled with thoughts about how you should avoid Yeonjun as much as possible to the point that you were getting a headache, Lia thought your lost consciousness was an advantage to the youngest considering the possible murder in the venue if you were to see the man who had his eyes on you.
“I have to use the restroom.”
Eun-bin stood up from her place and got out of the booth with your assistance. The observer that she was, Dori realized the number of people decreased on Hongjoong’s table by two. She internalized the thought of following Eun-bin out of here upon suspecting the danger that was getting closer.
“Should I come with you?”
You were still on your feet when you reached your hand to the small of her back. Your memory consisted enough knowledge to know that the amount of drinks she shad in the last fifteen minutes was enough to make her tipsy and her high heeled boots didn’t seem reliable enough to get your clumsy friend downstairs. She turned her head back to you after her eyes got a glimpse of the figure who was walking towards your table.
“I think your problems are bigger than me walking straight, love. I will manage.”
You directed your attention to her remark before stumbling in your place to see your fiancé a step away from you. Eun-bin disappeared from your sight after giving Wooyoung a slight nod before you had a chance to collect yourself. Unlike you, she maintained a good reationship with the trouble maker. Your infamous lover went straight in for a kiss and a gasp raised from your friends in the back. His hands grabbed your waist, pinching a little to get you to respond to him. While your mind was telling you to go along with it for the show, your every nerve was screaming, fully aware that only a kiss was enough to get you instinctual. You let his tongue in by parting your lips. While the hand pinching your waist released its hold on you, his tongue brushed your palate which elicited a moan from the back of your throat. A while later, he parted from you after biting your bottom lip before you could even respond. Lia’s cry from behind pulled you back to reality.
“There’s no need to stop. You could film a porn right then and there.”
Her grumbles woke no shame from your fiancé, on the contrary he chuckled while stepping back and checked for your lipstick on his lips. The two were the main reason the two groups never stood next to each other. At some point, their bickering would always end in a physical fight.
“I’ve seen you do worse, Lia. Your boyfriends-“
Your friend was no match for him in public since Wooyoung didn’t have any brakes to his explicit talks. Of course, you chuckled thinking that HE would know the boyfriends she tried so hard keeping a secret. You snapped your head up leaving the scolding for your friend later and held his gaze with a fake smile on your face.
“Why the hell aren’t you in Milan?”
His hand reached your cheeks and caressed just under your eye.
“I heard there was a party.”
And my fiancé would be attending it.
The following sentence didn’t reach you. Now that you could see it, he was wearing a suit without anything inside. The only thing that covered his surely well built torso was a couple of buttons. Well, it was safe to say that his V-line was more revealing than yours with a chain adorning his neck. As the couple of the hour, you could feel the eyes of the attendants on you.
“That is exactly why you should’ve been away.”
You insisted and took your drink from the table to take a sip from it. Instead of answering, he shrugged and took the drink from your hand and finished the whole thing before you had a chance to.
Your voice carried a certain danger to it. He was being a child and you weren’t in the mood to play with him.
“Trust me, baby.”
He assured you with a gentle voice before putting the glass back on the table and leaving you with your friends for his own. While you got yourself seated with a sigh, Dori took your glass in suspicion and smelled the content. Considering her good relationship with Mingi and Jongho, she was the only one who was left out when it came to your fiancé’s reputation and playful personality.
Kiss of Chaos - Part Five - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)
PART ONE. PART TWO. PART THREE. PART FOUR.
Summary: The ritual to break the blockage on your magick is finally here but will it go as planned?
Word count: 4,707
Genre and warnings: smut. witch seonghwa with witch reader. fem pronouns for reader. depictions of witchcraft and magick. dirty talk. dry humping. please take note that the ritual is in this chapter and be aware of the following: very close brushes with death, descriptions of pain, blood, skin going pale for both seonghwa and reader.
Tag list: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @iusrene - @billboard-singer - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multihoe-net - @haruharu-egypt - @maarkcraft - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @talkbykhalid - @xirenex - @violetwinters - @jayb17 - @rdiamondbts2727 - @troy-on-sea - @glxwingstar - @passionloveindividualityempathy - (sorry if i missed anyone, some ppl tumblr won’t let me tag.)
please note this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa or ateez in any way, shape or form. on top of that, this fic and the depictions of witchcraft are not meant to be taken as formal information on the subject and take many creative liberties.
When you wake up, it is dark outside. Swaths of moonlight cut across Seonghwa’s bed. The TV is on but muted and fills his room with different colours. You aren’t sure what time it is. Easily a couple of hours has passed since coming back to Seonghwa’s place and taking a nap with him. It was him who had asked, surprising you. You half expected him to try to make out with you, but he fell asleep in about ten seconds. The potion vial is on his dresser, glinting in the moonlight. Next to you, Seonghwa breathes softly, his hair down from his ponytail, messy from sleep. You prop yourself up a little, checking the time on the clock. There is a chunk of time until Seonghwa wanted to wake up and start preparing. You suddenly feel very nervous.
Seonghwa shifts slightly in his sleep, his shirt riding up and exposing his toned stomach. You stare at it a beat too long, momentarily distracted by memories of being in the shower with him this morning and how he looked under the running water.
“Staring, little witch?” He murmurs suddenly, startling you.
“I didn’t know you were awake,” You say, blushing, “Did I wake you?”
Seonghwa’s eyes flutter open, somehow darker in this light. “No. I just felt you stirring. You nervous?”
“Yes,” You admit, “Are you?”
“No,” His eyes close again.
“Why not? You could die if this goes wrong.”
Seonghwa’s hand reaches up, gently tugging on your shirt, motioning for you to lay back down. You do so and he rolls onto his side, facing you. “I’m not dying tonight, little witch, and neither are you. You have so little faith in me as a witch that you think I’ll fuck this up?”
“No. But we have no idea how it will play out when we force Chaos to us.”
“It’ll be fine. Just don’t lose your nerve.”
“And if we don’t get killed but my magick block remains…” You trail off, unable to finish the thought.
“You’re gonna drive yourself crazy thinking about those things.” Seonghwa says curtly, “And that negativity will impact the spell work. You know that.”
He is right, of course. You fall silent, chewing on your bottom lip, listening to Seonghwa’s quiet breathing. Tentatively, you reach out for him, placing your hand against his hip. Maybe you are imagining it, but you think his breath catches slightly.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, little witch.” He warns quietly.
“But I’m so good at that.” You remark dryly and before he can reply, you lean forward and kiss him.
Seonghwa hesitates for a brief second, probably weighing the options of fooling around before the ritual. But his hand presses against your lower back and you know that the desire he feels has won out over dwelling about what will happen later tonight. When he returns the kiss, the tension leaving his body, you allow yourself to relax against him.
Seonghwa shifts, moving you on top of him, his hands squeezing your hips. The two of you are fully dressed, and Seonghwa’s many necklaces are still on, lying flat against the purple hoodie. You prop yourself up a little, trailing your fingers over each one carefully.
“I can’t feel the magick in them. But I assume these must be powerful.” You say, your fingers lingering over a tiny spell jar that glimmers in the soft light.
“You’ll feel the power in them after the ritual,” Seonghwa replies, “I’ll teach you how to craft one.”
“Oh, for free?” You tease, “Lucky me.”
“When did I say it would be for free?” Seonghwa teases back, his voice dropping, hands skirting underneath your shirt and along the bare skin of your back.
You shiver, skin breaking out in goosebumps. Seonghwa tilts his face upwards slightly, and your lips brush together. The heat between your bodies is warming up, desire blotting out your anxiety about later tonight. This time feels different than the urgency in the shower, the challenge to each other to see who would break first. Neither will break tonight, and neither wants to try to push it. It is less about chasing pleasure and more about being close.
Seonghwa darts his tongue out across your lips, making you giggle. Then, he pulls you forward into a kiss. The two of you lay like this for a while – not speaking, not trying to undress, just kissing as the night deepens. The city is a far away thing. In this moment, the only thing either of you are focusing on is each other. Words bubble close to the surface, things you want to say that you don’t know if you will be able to later, but you keep them just underneath. To speak them aloud is something you aren’t ready for. To topple off that edge is a terrifying prospect.
At one point, the kiss breaks. Moonlight is pouring into the room, casting Seonghwa in light and shadow. He is breathing hard, and underneath your fingertips, you can feel his heart racing through the fabric of the hoodie. His eyes glow in the darkness, purple lanterns at the end of a long tunnel, and your heart skips a beat so violently that you inhale sharply. Seonghwa’s hand goes to the back of your head, bringing you back down against his lips. You gasp in his mouth from the intensity of it, your legs straddling his waist, hands flat against his chest. His teeth nip at your lips, and he arches his hips slightly – just enough to let you know to grind down on him.
You straighten up, grabbing Seonghwa’s hands, interlocking your fingers with his. Slowly, you gyrate your hips, feeling how hard he is through the barrier of all the clothing. Neither of you speak. In the moonlight, you can see the flush of his cheeks, the way his choker moves when he swallows, his lips open slightly, a glimpse of his tongue, white teeth in the darkness. His necklaces glow, spread across his chest, and your own pendant is a green flicker of flame, leading him to you.
You pick up the pace, grinding against his cock as if fucking him. Seonghwa groans quietly, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment before opening, squeezing your hands. You marvel at how good he looks, how much you care for him. To like him this much is dangerous, to grow attached after being on your own for so long leaves butterflies and venom in your stomach. You went to Chaos for a binding, for safety, for protection because it is only just you and you alone that came to the city, carving out a small spot for yourself. To want Seonghwa in this way, with such intensity, after such a short time, goes against everything you told yourself, all the promises you made when things grew hard or you were lonely.
Seonghwa moans, head pressing back against the pillows. You don’t stop, knowing your own orgasm is approaching. If pawing at each other like a couple of horny teenagers is what makes you feel this good, you aren’t sure how fucking him would be, how having him inside you and being skin to skin would take you to pleasure you didn’t think was possible. A whimper escapes from your lips, which only makes Seonghwa arch his hips, pressing his cock against you as you grind down on him.
He lets go of one of your hands, bringing his own upwards to gently cup your chin. His thumb grazes your lips, and you open your mouth. Seonghwa slips his thumb inside, watching entranced as you wrap your lips around it, biting down on it a little. Are you imagining it or does he smirk a slightly? It is gone in a second if he does. Your pace has picked up, urgently trying to bring both of you to climax. Seonghwa’s hand slides down to your neck, wrapping his hand around it gently, not squeezing, as if he just wants to look at the sight of you grinding against him with his hand curled around your neck. It must do something to him because his breathing is ragged, his other hand flying to your hip to pull you down against his cock.
“Hwa,” You whisper, “I’m gonna cum.”
His voice is strained as he goes, “I want to watch you finish.”
That is all the permission you need. With one final grind down on his cock, you whimper as your climax begins. You are panting, moaning, your hands going to his around your neck, holding it there just because you know it will be enough to make him cum as well. And it does, because the next second, Seonghwa groans out your name – not little witch but your name – and is finishing as well. Together, the two of you cum, making enough noise that it is as if you have been fucking him for hours.
Breathless, you come down from your orgasm. Seonghwa’s hands slip down around your waist, tugging you forward so that you are laying flat against him.
You laugh, “Your necklaces are digging into me,” You protest, rolling off him.
Seonghwa props himself up, letting out a small sigh. “I’m not gonna have any clean underwear if you keep ruining them like this.”
“That would be truly horrible.” You deadpan before laughing.
Seonghwa glowers, sliding off the bed with a small shake of his head. You watch him, hating and loving the way you feel as you soak him up in your head to revisit in the future.
It is the middle of the night when Seonghwa and you begin to set up for the ritual. This involves clearing ample space in his disorganized living room, pulling out a vast array of crystals, salt, and books Seonghwa wants nearby, and helping him create a thick salt circle to hopefully contain Chaos when summoned – although neither of you know if such a thing would be able to contain a deity of extreme power. Seonghwa slips a bracelet around your wrist, his fingers lingering on the tender skin there for a moment as he does so.
“What’s this?” You inquire curiously.
“Just for protection.” is all he says and you get the sense he won’t explain further even if you press the subject – which you don’t.
He has you both drink an entire mug of moon water and is getting ready to start when you randomly think of the Bowie’s Eye in the other room.
“Hang on.” You say quickly and Seonghwa opens his mouth to protest but you dart off.
You come back a couple seconds later holding it in your hands. As always, it is dead to your touch. Seonghwa eyes you curiously.
“Why are you bringing that?”
“I don’t know,” You chew on your bottom lip, “Just wanted it around.”
“Had a feeling?”
“Put it over there and sit down next to me, little witch. Bring the potion too.”
You do so, sitting cross legged next to Seonghwa, who shifts uncomfortably as he tries to fold his long legs. “I hate sitting like this for a ritual,” He grumbles, “But I can’t stretch out because I need to be as close to the salt circle as possible.”
“Finally, my short legs work in my favor.”
Seonghwa shoots you a small glare before holding out his hand, “Alright. Ready? Take my hand. When I tell you to drink the potion, do so immediately. Chaos should be summoned into the circle. You ask it to break the magick blockage. We have to centre and ground first –”
“I know how to do that,” You snap, your nerves getting the best of you.
Seonghwa grins brightly as if finding your annoyance amusing. You reach for his hand, feeling his rapid pulse betray his calm demeanor. The spell book is propped up against a large geode, and Seonghwa has lit all the summoning candles. They drip red and black wax onto the floor, casting shadows across the room. Outside his place, the city is a quiet, slumbering beast. Is anyone else in the city attempting such a ritual tonight? Somehow, you doubt it.
Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, focusing on your own energy, bringing it to the centre of your chest. Exhaling slowly, you picture your connection to the planet, to every living being, to things beyond your understanding. And finally, you imagine your connection with Seonghwa, of your hands forming the link between the two of you, all the shifting and ever changing parts of himself meshing with your own.
Seonghwa begins to speak in a quiet voice, in a language you don’t understand. It is a dead language, one that probably would take ages to study, forget being able to speak. Not for the first time, you are grateful for Seonghwa and his abilities as a witch; the depth of his knowledge and his affinity for languages is the reason you have come this far in trying to fix things.
You listen to the rise and fall of his voice. Even though your magick is blocked, and you cannot feel the connection to the planet, to him, to the city as much as you would like, you still focus on it, keep it in your mind and heart. After ten minutes, Seonghwa switches languages.
“Drink it now.” He says sternly.
With your free hand, you pop the top off the vial and drink it, not hesitating. It burns on the way down, as if your entire body is swallowing flames. Seonghwa is back to the other language, his voice rising in volume. The burning sensation grows, sweat breaking out across your forehead, a pained gasp tumbling from your lips. Seonghwa squeezes your hand but doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. He cannot ask if you are okay. Any misstep and the ritual will go to shit.
The pain is shifting and is now condensed along your arm. You gasp, pitching forward slightly as it feels as if the mark is being forcibly burned off you. It is overwhelming, all encompassing. You no longer hear Seonghwa, no longer feel his hand in yours. The pain is a furious monster just under your skin, taking it out on your body. You think distantly you might be screaming but aren’t sure.
The temperature is dropping rapidly. One second, it is almost warm from the candles. The next, your teeth are chattering. Forcing your eyes open through the pain, you realize the shadows are shifting, changing shape, twisting and curling in an unnatural way. The ritual is working. With a pained gasp, you look down at your arm. The mark is gone. But the skin on your arm is raw and bleeding, the bright red rolling down your arm in neon smears.
The salt that forms the circle crackles and sizzles as if thrown into a fire. Smoke fills the small space. It is a heavy thick scent that brings to mind the night your village was burned. Seonghwa’s voice is no longer quiet. He is practically shouting, his voice hoarse from the smoke and his concern for you.
The smoke grows thicker. You cough and when you rub your lips with your free hand, it comes back covered in red. Is the ritual killing me? You wonder dimly.
I was going to be killed if I didn’t leave the city. And I still didn’t go. I didn’t want to give up what I fought so hard for. It was mine and no one was going to take it from me, Seonghwa had told you and you understood what he meant. You just hoped, for your sake, that he knew that this is something you needed to fight for too, even if it looked like it was going to kill you.
Seonghwa is holding onto your hand so tightly that your bones might shatter. You risk a glance at him. He is leaning forward, blood dripping from his nose, across his lips, rolling down his neck. His eyes are dilated, the choker tight against his neck. Every necklace is glowing so brightly that you wonder if they are going to shatter. You tear your eyes away from him, looking back at the circle. It feels as if your organs are being rearranged, your blood is boiling, the pressure in your head is going to crack in half like an egg being thrown against pavement –
And as suddenly as it began, it ends. With an explosion of force that almost knocks Seonghwa and you backwards, every light in the apartment goes out with a soft pop and the large window blows outward, across the street. A wind so cold that you swear your fingertips are turning blue kicks up. Still, you hold onto Seonghwa’s hand, even though it feels as if he is turning brittle underneath your grip.
In the centre of the circle is a writhing mass of strange shapes and colours. It hurts to look directly at it – no, you actually cannot look directly at it. Your eyes burn and sting, and you lower them. Next to you, Seonghwa lets out a small grunt that lets you know he also cannot bring himself to look at the mass directly. The apartment smells strange – burnt flowers mixed with something much more sinister…the scent of old blood, decaying flesh or something worse.
Noise fills your head. It is so intense that you gasp, curling forward, the mark on your arm scalding hot like lava. Seonghwa’s hand is glued to yours. If Chaos can’t break the grip, you aren’t sure anything could. There are words forming in your skull but they don’t make sense. Too old, too strange sounding. If Seonghwa understands them, he doesn’t say anything.
The noise comes to a crescendo and goes mercifully silent. You open your eyes, gasping for breath, staring at fixed point in the floor. The next time the noise comes, it is in your head and sounds like flowers in bloom, stars dying, the tide rolling in, cities crumbling to dust.
I have to admit, I didn’t think this would work. I watched with detached amusement as you misunderstood what the gift I gave you was. Scampering around like ants to bring me forth. And now I speak this ugly tongue just so you can grasp my words.
There is a pressure on your body that you dislike. It is as if there is a heavy hand pressing down on your entire body, and each second that passes the force grows, leaving it harder to move or talk.
“A-are you Chaos?” Seonghwa manages to gasp out next to you, although his head is also bowed, a droplet of blood rolling off the tip of his nose onto the floor.
Why did you summon me? If a deity could sound annoyed, Chaos sounds it. I gave you what you wanted.
“What?” You squeak out, confused, “I want – I want my magick back. You blocked it. For the failed spell.” The request sounds so paltry, so utterly pathetic that you want to sink in a hole and cover yourself in dirt.
I gave you what you wanted, the deity repeats in a voice that conjures up images of distant planets dying, stars blinking out like soft candles, I gave you the binding. It led you to him, did it not? And to the coven? What more did you want? I didn’t block your magick, Chaos sounds impatient as if it finds you very, very foolish, I binded it to him.
“What?” You ask, dumbfounded, at the same time as Seonghwa goes, “The binding spell worked?”
You wanted protection, you wanted to be stronger. I gave you that. I gave you a tiny sliver of myself. But even a sliver of myself is too powerful to be held in one person. It must be shared. I can see everything and everyone. So, I led you to Seonghwa, who matched perfectly with you. In leading you to him, I led you to a coven to offer safety in numbers. All you had to do was finish what I started with a simple binding spell and your magick would return tenfold. The sliver of myself would be shared between the two of you. In the ensuing confused silence, Chaos adds, You misunderstood due to your human stupidity.
Great, the deity is complimenting us now, you think dryly as your brain tries to digest what is being told to you. With each passing second, the pressure weighs down on your body and you swear it feels as if your bones are being grinded to dust.
“I don’t understand,” Seonghwa speaks up, his voice strained but clear, “You’re saying her spell worked? She binded you to her?”
That’s right. And in return, I bound her to you. I cannot be properly bound to someone. Traditional binding spells do not work on me. I can only give you a sliver of myself hence the mark. I assumed you would understand that I was granting you what you requested by planting the need to track down Seonghwa and his coven. Your magick is not blocked. It was merely muted so you would understand the next step would be to finish a binding spell with Seonghwa. When neither of you speak, Chaos adds, but instead you believed yourself cursed. This entire time, you have been trying to erase my binding. You believed you found Seonghwa on your own accord, but it was my binding that lead you to seek him out. Two parts alone are better whole.
You feel as if plunged in cold water. The spell had worked. This entire time you thought you were a failed witch, someone who deserved what you got for your ambition – but you had actually bound Chaos to you, gotten its powers. You just hadn’t understood how or why. Of course I didn’t, you think embarrassed, the deities never work in ways we understand.
Somehow, you pulled off the impossible. All the times my pendant responded to Seonghwa and magick, I didn’t once think it was because my own magick was just muted. All the times Seonghwa remarked on the fact I felt things and somehow could sense things and neither of us stopped to think that it could be that my magick was still there. Seonghwa even said he could feel my magick being blocked and I didn’t question why he could sense it at all. You should feel elated at pulling off such a ritual but –
“The potion. The ritual. If I bypassed the binding, what did I – what did that do –” Each word is harder to speak than the last. Deities aren’t meant for the mortal realm and each moment with Chaos draws you and Seonghwa closer to death.
You broke the binding on Seonghwa. The binding ritual with Seonghwa was never completed. I suppose death happens now since he is no longer under my protection. He can’t survive a ritual like this without a piece of me inside him. Chaos does not sound bothered by this – but why would it?
Your head snaps to look at Seonghwa. At some point, glass had sliced his cheeks, and blood trickles down one. He turns his wide purple eyes to look at you in alarm. You are terrified of the fact his skin is losing colour rapidly, as if he is dying on the spot.
“Wait. You said the binding ritual just needs to be finished. So, I’ll finish it right now.” You say with a confidence you do not feel.
You force your body to turn to look at Seonghwa, who is deathly pale. With your free hand, you pull the pendant off your neck. The clasp breaks and it hums violently in your hand. Your magick surges and rolls through you, so powerful that it is making your head throb. You twirl the necklace around Seonghwa’s wrist, tying it over yours so that they are pressing together. Seonghwa is beginning to slouch, and panic is creeping in at the corners of your brain.
“You gonna help or just watch?” You ask Chaos, irritation in your chest.
It is no business of mine that you misunderstood what I gave you. If you just completed the binding ritual and not this one, Seonghwa would not be dying right now.
“Fucking deities,” You mumble under your breath, “Hwa,” You try shaking him and his eyes roll into the back of his head, “Fuck it.” You scooch forward, your hand going to his back to try to stop him from falling over, knowing you only have seconds left.
Seonghwa falls forward, his face buried in your neck. He is cold, much too cold for your liking. You shut your eyes tightly, hoping that the magick already surrounding you will help power the binding ritual. The words fall off your tongue urgently, your wrist pressed against Seonghwa’s. You imagine the binding being shared between the two of you, picture Chaos leading you towards Seonghwa, the moment you walked into the bar and saw him, that connection you had with him immediately, how all the rules in the universe that Seonghwa created were a flicker in darkness compared to the power of a deity leading you towards each other on a red string.
You feel a surge of power roll through your body and into Seonghwa’s. The mark on your arm returns, scorched flesh signaling a binding, misunderstood as a curse. As your energy pours into Seonghwa and the binding ritual completes itself, you realize it won’t be enough power. Seonghwa is still too cold, although a bit of colour has returned to his cheeks.
Think fast, witch. Chaos says and are you imagining the tone or does it sound entertained by watching two mere mortals try to fix something they fucked up so badly?
Repeating the word fuck over and over aloud, trying to think of a way to get more power into Seonghwa, you look around the room. Your gaze lands on the Bowie’s Eye.
“Why does your family have a Bowie’s Eye as an heirloom?” He asks suspiciously, “You know how rare these are?”
“They say the Bowie’s Eye has power we can’t fully understand. That it can be in tune with a lot of different magick, and can amplify things we didn’t even know were around us.”
You randomly think of the Bowie’s Eye in the other room.
“Hang on.” You say quickly.
“Why are you bringing that?”
“I don’t know,” You chew on your bottom lip, “Just wanted it around.”
“Had a feeling?”
The images flicker through your head so quickly that before you can think about what you are doing, you snatch the Bowie’s Eye off the floor. For the first time, it pulses when you hold it, a swirling mass of colours, vibrating a low frequency in your hand. You shove Seonghwa off you, close your eyes and picture the power from the Eye filling up Seonghwa, working with the binding to bring him back the way he was meant to be. Holding this image in your mind, you slam the Bowie’s Eye against his chest.
It explodes as if made from sugar glass, spilling across Seonghwa and sinking into his skin. The sheer power of it shatters your pendant into small pieces of green, cascading down your hand and onto the floor. The floor shudders violently underneath you. Seonghwa’s eyes roll forward and he lets out a heaving gasp, his other hand clawing at his chest as if it burns. But the colour floods back into him immediately and his chest is rising and falling. A mark appears on his arm, bright against his skin – the same as yours.
Confused, he looks down at your bound wrists, and then to your face – which must look like hell judging by the horrified expression on his. Somewhere deep in your brain, you swear that you hear almost an amused chuckle from Chaos –
And then everything is dark and you pitch forward, tumbling into it. At least Seonghwa is okay, is your last thought before the universe dies, snuffed out like the purple lanterns of his eyes.
a/n: I have absolutely no idea how schools work in Korea except for the knowledge I've gained by watching Kdrama. Please feel free to correct me or my grammar as English is not my first language. it isn't even the second. Enjoy?
"Your beauty is distracting everyone. stop it."
This was the note kept inside your locker when you opened to get your binders. This was the third one. Never signed by anyone nor did you have any knowledge of anyone having a crush on you.
Thinking that it was one of your friends simply pranking you, you thought nothing of it and went on with your day. Until he interrupted you.
"What do you need help with now?" Groaning a bit from the tiredness of the day, you glanced at the tall boy. He ignored your little sign of protest towards his arrival and took you by arm to a corner of the bustling corridor.
"One of the boys have a crush on you. Do something about it. I can't take it anymore." Murmring a few more addition of curses to the content, Seonghwa left you all alone.
The recess that followed the short conversation was filled with chattering from the nearby tables and the loud shouts from you inner self.
"Who could it even be?" You never like people who muttered but doing that to yourself made you all the more furious. Seonghwa was nowhere to be found and neither was his possy. And that was weird.
"Y/N!" A voice called out your name from the other end of the long corridor. Turning around immediately, you saw Yunho running upto you.
Gasping for air while trying to speak, he gave you an envelope. You patted his back while he was inhaling large amount of breaths, grasping his knees.
"Please tell me this is for me. I don't have the time to pass it around." The tiredness from before was nothing compared to what you were feeling right now.
"No...No..." He inhaled a large amount of breath before thumping a hand on your shoulder.
"It's for you. Just read and comply." Gasping for the last time, Yunho ran back to where he came from.
'How many is 12-3? Go there.'
This was the question on the crumpled paper handed to you. An odd question for a tiring day.
Should you go to the 9th grade? Groaning for what felt like the nth time, you marched on towards the destination.
Like a watchguard, Mingi was standing tall next to one of the classes of the 9th grade.
"Here." Another card was handed and another class was mentioned, but this time, a rose accompanied the paper.
After 6 notes, the whole tour of the school and a bunch of roses, you found Yeosang standing beside your homeroom.
"I will kill all of you." Gritting through your teeth, you sighed and put out your hand for the note. The boy just shook his head and opened the door to a dark room.
Upon entering, you found Wooyoung in the midst of a dimly sunlit room. All this walking for this.
"Firstly, I'm sorry for making you run around the whole school. Guess I'm a coward." A sheepish smile and red-tipped ears and you forgot you were angry with the boy.
"I think you were going for something." You smirked at his blushing figure and he cleared his throat for a rock-melting confession.
"like you?" you finished for him and revelled in the pure frustration crossing his face.
"I thought this was my confession." A small protest laced his voice and you giggled. It was fun making him irritate.
"sure, go on."
Taking a breath, he started again.
"Y/N, I fell in love with you when-"
"- you saw me in the basket ball court, cheering for you? or when I smiled at you when I passed on the results?" You couldn't fight the teasing smile spreading on your face for interrupting again.
"Y/N. Will you please let me complete? I worked hard for this, baby." Whining a bit, he looked at you with desperation in his eyes and you decided to cut him some slack.
Crossing the short distance between you, you stood right in front of him. His breathing escalated quickly, seeing you approach him.
"I won't interrupt this time. I promise." Words were whispered and his nodded a bit quickly.
"Y/N, I like you a lot and would like you to be my girlfriend." Whispering words he wanted to say since he realised his feelings for you, Wooyoung closed his eyes, not wanting to see your reaction. Rejection was his worst fear, be it love or life.
"Could have spared me the running, Woo." You smiled wholeheartedly at the blushing boy, who by the way had his eyes closed.
Surprising him by cupping his cheeks, Wooyoung opened his eyes to find yours really close for his poor heart.
"Y/N?" It was almost inaudible, but your ears caught it. Smiling widely, you answered.
"Not Y/N. It's baby for you."
And just was you were about to kiss him, the door tore open.
"What are you kids doing here?!"
thank you for taking your time and reading this <3