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seungkwansphd · 10 months

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tell me

pairing: changkyun x fem!reader word count: 4.2K synopsis: you and changkyun have been hooking up for a while now. both of you want more, but neither is willing to say it without some reassurance from the other end. themes: fwb, repressed feelings, pining, poor communication, shy-ish reader, probably not the most responsible driving practices on changkyun's end, slight angst, they work through it in the end.

warnings: SMUT, phone sex, a LOT of dirty talk, power dynamics, lots of possessive names, slight degradation???, jealousy, changkyun is a demon. lmk what i missed!

a/n: happy (early) birthday to @the-boy-meets-evil i hope you have a wonderful weekend 🫶

“Hnnmm!” you whined, eyes squeezed shut as Changkyun watched you from between your legs. He hummed loudly against your clit and your thighs were pressing against his ears, nearly drowning out your sounds for him.

Nearly. And he was glad for it because he absolutely lived for the noises he was able to get you to make.

One of his favorite memories was of the time he had overstimulated you until you’d unleashed your deepest, most desperate, and lewdest thoughts. The way you’d gasped, moaned, and begged for him to use you until you’d gotten everything you’d wanted. It lived rent free in his mind still.

Hooking his arms around your thighs, he pulled your legs apart, tongue dragging perilously through your folds. You squeezed when his lips latched onto your clit, applying a firm and steady pressure. Your legs reflexed shut, but his arms held you open for him.

“Please,” you whined, clutching at his shoulders, pulling him up towards you. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him inside of you. Your walls clenched desperately around nothing and you needed something.

“What is it?” he asked, face almost blank. “What do you want?”

“Changkyun,” you implored shyly. “You know.”

“I know,” a small smile spread across his lips.

It was so cute how you got shy even after months of doing this. He wished you would let go like that again. He hoped to hear your lewd confessions again, but he could tell it made you flustered so he never pushed too hard.

“You need my cock, huh? Pussy feels so empty without me?”

You nodded furiously, fingertips stroking across his bare chest. You loved when he talked dirty to you. He said all the things you wanted to hear. Things that you wanted to say, in fact, but the one time you’d let loose and begged so desperately and told him all the things he could do to you, he’d given you a look of such shock that you’d been too embarrassed to do it again since.

“You love when I press into you, feel you spread for me, take me deep inside,” he pressed his forehead against you, speaking feverishly as he lined himself up. You didn’t realize it, but he was trying to coax you into talking dirty to him again. You’d done it one time and while yes, it had surprised him, it had also made him think you might have needs and compatibilities that you hadn’t shared with him fully.

You nodded, eyes shining up at him until he thrust into you, deep and slow. The growly purr you let out had him running laps, mentally, and he struggled to keep himself under control. His hands sought out your breasts, fingertips tugging at your nipples as he pressed into you over and over.

“I-, I-,” you gasped, melting into the bed as your orgasm built. His hands grazed over your sensitive areas, sending chills across your skin. Close.

“You feel incredible,” he nuzzled you gently as you threaded your finger into his. Your thumb rubbed across the back of his hand. Your tell. “My pretty toy wants to cum?”

“Yes,” you managed to squeak out a reply. You wanted to sink into the bed and reiterate that you loved being his pretty toy, his needy holes, his eager slut. But you reigned yourself in, instead biting down on your lips and letting out an anguished whine of desperation. Just saying the words to yourself in your head were enough to drive you to the edge.

“Go ahead, cum for me,” he murmured into your neck. He wouldn’t be far after you.

“Mmmpf!” you bit down on your knuckles as you came around him. Your chest heaved with ragged breaths and he clutched at you as he found his own release. He collapsed on you after, head fuzzy with dopamine.

“It’s late,” he looked at you after he’d recovered.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“I should go,” you spoke again just as Changkyun was about to ask you to stay.

Instead he said nothing so you stood up, eyes searching the room for your clothes. Both quiet, you saw yourself out and your chest twisted when the door swung shut.

…

You chewed your lip as you contemplated texting Changkyun. It’d only been three days since you’d seen him, but you were feeling incredibly needy. As you rode the elevator up to your apartment, you texted your friends to let them know you’d made it.

[yn]: ‘so nice to see you, let’s get a meal together soon!’

Changkyun’s eyebrows had raised with anticipation when your message came in and then quickly furrowed when he read it. He’d already deduced that it wasn’t for him, but when the ‘sorry, wrong person. please ignore!’ had followed it shortly, his temper rose in a way that surprised him. It was impossible to tell anything from the tone of the message, but he couldn’t help but be jealous. For sure jealous if it was something like a date, but even jealous at the simple fact that he hadn’t been the one to spend time with you tonight.

You were disappointed when he didn’t reply. You’d thought, for a moment, it could open the door for you to ask whether he was free. Since that hadn’t presented itself as an option, you resigned yourself to masturbating instead. By the time you finished your skincare routine and settled in bed, you’d become antsy with anticipation.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath when you realized your vibrator was dead. You plugged it in, but it would take some time. That was fine, your hands and your overactive imagination had certainly never let you down before!

Closing your eyes, you let yourself settle into a thought. Your fingertips lightly skimmed across the sensitive skin of your torso, your hips, and your inner thighs. You sighed contently as your left hand came to tease at the underside of your breast and your right hand stroked up your inner thighs. You let out a small, surprised puff of air when you realized how wet you’d become. Gathering it up, your fingertips moved to circle your clit lazily and pinch every so often.

Inevitably, your mind wandered to your last sexual encounter with Changkyun. You recalled the way his eyes looked at you intently as his tongue dragged torturous circles around your clit. You let out a soft whine as your fingers dipped into your entrance and you recalled the way he had called you ‘his pretty toy’.

Toy. Doll. Kitten. You whimpered as you imagined his deep, sultry voice rasping in your ear. You’d never told him, but you adored when he used these pet names for you. Best of all when preceded by the word ‘my’. You’d recently learned that you had quite the taste for power dynamics in the bedroom and were still grappling with it yourself. It seemed like Changkyun might be able to give you what you wanted, but you felt too shy to ask yet.

You chewed at your lip and whined with frustration as you tried, repeatedly, to bring yourself to orgasm. It surprised you as you’d never struggled before, but this time you couldn’t seem to bring yourself over the crest. Exhaling sharply, your eyes flitted to your phone again. You wondered if he was up.

[yn]: ‘...please ignore if you’re busy, but…are you up?’

[ck]: ‘yes. everything okay?’

[yn]: ‘can i call you?’

You threw your phone away with embarrassment. Were you really going to call him just to hear his voice? You had to push that thought aside when your phone started buzzing. Changkyun was calling you!

“H-hi,” you greeted him with some surprise, “How-, um, thanks for calling.”

“Sure,” he smiled, “Everything okay?” He repeated the question that you hadn’t answered.

“Mhm, yes,” you nodded, squirming under the sheets. You knew what you wanted to ask, but couldn’t seem to vocalize the words.

“...was there something you wanted to talk about?” Changkyun asked after you didn’t speak again. He could hear shifting and rustling on your side of the call and he wondered if you were in bed.

“Um,” you inhaled, “Kind of? If you’re not busy.”

“I wouldn’t have called otherwise,” he chuckled. The sound of his voice curled into your ear and you held back a sigh. “It’s late. Are you in bed?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “Are you? It is late.”

“No,” Changkyun shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “I’m at my desk. Doing some work on the computer.”

“Ah! Should I let you go?” you asked. You wanted to smack your own forehead. Why were you so nervous?

“Please don’t. I called you, remember?”

“That’s true,” you chuckled.

“Tell me about your day,” Changkyun prompted. You seemed nervous and he had a feeling he knew why. He hoped he could get you to relax enough to tell him why you’d wanted to call.

“Ah,” you relaxed. This you could do.

“And you saw a friend?” he asked after you had told him about work. The tinge of jealousy in his voice triggered a throb in your core.

“The text you accidentally sent me,” he elaborated when you didn’t answer.

“Ah, that,” you nodded, “I ran into an old friend from school. When I was on my way home.”

“I see,” he blinked. Not nearly enough information to sate his curiosity, but he also felt he didn’t have the right to ask for more. “And then what has my kitten been up to since they got home?”

You swallowed loudly. It could’ve been an innocent question, but you could tell that he was finally calling your bluff. You pressed your thighs together and let out a defeated exhale.

“How did you know?” you pouted.

“It’s past midnight,” he laughed at your indignant tone. “And I can hear the neediness in your voice.”

“Changkyun,” you sighed, the gates open now. “Please help.”

“Help how?” his voice lilted teasingly. “I’m all the way over here.”

“Tell…talk to me,” you begged, fingers stroking through your drenched folds again.

“Hmm,” he chuckled smugly, “Is my kitten so needy that even just my voice will get you off?”

“I think so,” you moaned, sinking into the pillows as you ground your hips against your hand.

“Fuck,” he cursed, palming himself through his pants as he listened to your little gasps and moans. “Sound so pretty gasping for my cock,” he smirked into the phone.

“Hnn,” you nodded in agreement.

You wanted to tell him how you loved being wrapped around him like a cocksleeve. How you throbbed for him, ached for him. You wished you were brave enough to ask him to claim you, but the worry at the back of your mind caused the words to dry up in your throat. After all, you’d established terms at the beginning and you most definitely weren’t his.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” he rasped into your ear as he thrust himself into his own fist.

“You,” you answered simply.

“Hmm,” he purred, a shit eating grin on his face. “Wish you were here. Sitting on my cock for me like a good girl.”

You whined, fingers reaching a fever pitch. You were almost there.

“Tell me,” he panted into the phone, “Tell me who you’re thinking of. I want to hear it when you cum.”

His name echoed in your head as the orgasm finally ripped through you. Your hand clapped over your mouth out of subconscious reflex and all he heard was a muffled cry. It was still enough to bring him over the edge, but when his presence of mind returned, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

…

You frowned as you scrolled through your phone. Things had been uncharacteristically quiet since your last call with Changkyun. You’d sent him a few texts here and there and received monosyllabic replies. At first, this hadn’t seemed too unusual, but after two weeks you were starting to feel certain that you were being ghosted.

Changkyun frowned. He was starting to regret his decision to go out. When his friends had asked, he’d been feeling petty about you and said ‘yes’ out of spite. He’d been approached by a few folks and despite them being attractive and fun, he didn’t feel anything more than a passing acknowledgement.

Despite what his short replies may have suggested to you, you’d been on his mind a lot. While true that at the onset of this friends with benefits arrangement, he hadn’t been looking for anything other than casual, that seemed to have changed. More than a few times had he hoped you would stay through a weekend, but you were too good at following the rules.

“What’s up with you?” his friend appeared at his side, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “You are in a funk!”

“Yeah, I kind of am,” Changkyun shrugged. There was no sense in denying it. Maybe if he left now, he would be able to catch you before you fell asleep. “I’m going to head out. Thanks for inviting me.”

He was grateful that his friends didn’t put up much of a fight and before long he was in his car, driving home. He thought about calling you, but his stubbornness hadn’t receded yet. He wanted some sort of tell from you that you were interested in more too.

[yn]: ‘are you ghosting me?’

Changkyun’s eyebrow raised sharply at the text message. He was dialing you before he even realized it.

“Hello? Give me one second?” you sounded far away when you picked up his call.

Changkyun let go of the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Hey, can you hear me?” you said a moment later, voice much clearer now.

“Yes, I can,” he replied, relief spreading through him that you had picked up.

“Do you need something?” you asked. There was an annoyed edge in your voice and he couldn't blame you. He’d been quite distant lately.

“Yes,” he answers. His Adam's apple bobbed a few times before he spoke again. “How are you?”

“Oh-kay,” you drew the word out. “What do you need?”

Changkyun’s tongue pressed into his cheek. If you hadn’t had a legitimate reason to be upset at him, he would’ve thought you were bratting. He would have liked it.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he finally spoke. It didn’t really answer your question, but it was what he could manage without sounding like a complete idiot.

“Oh really?” you hoped you sounded nonchalant, but your body reacted to his statement.

“Yes.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, even though he wasn’t there to see. He had only said one syllable and yet it made you feel on fire as if he had said something graphic and filthy. It was truly unfair.

“Have you thought of me? Since our last call?”

“Yes,” you sighed, trying to hold onto your indignance. It was tiring to keep your walls up when you still wanted him so badly.

“Have you…cum to the thought of me since our last call?” he asked. His voice sounded ragged.

“...no,” you exhaled sharply with frustration. This was true, but not for lack of trying. “I-, I can’t seem to without you.”

Changkyun’s eyes widened at your confession. It shot through him like electricity.

“It’s been frustrating,” you continued, voice thin and breathy. Your resolve was breaking.

“Do you want-,” he offered. “I can help.”

“...please,” you nodded vehemently.

Changkyun turned the car around as he listened to you lay down. Your soft gasps and moans as you listened so well to his instructions made him consider breaking the speed limit more than once. Instead he got a hold of himself while you rubbed your clit for him and his cock throbbed eagerly as he drove.

“Are you hard?” Your question took him by surprise.

“Of course,” he laughed. He was straining against his pants.

“Are you playing with yourself?” you asked shyly.

“No, not right now.”

“Oh? That’s too bad. I wish I could. Let you use me like your pretty little cocksleeve.”

Changkyun’s eyes bugged out of his head. Fucking hell.

“Oh? You wanna play with me?” He managed to recover.

“Mhm,” you cooed, “I want you to use me like your pretty little doll so bad. My fingers aren't enough.”

“Hnn, my baby needs me so bad? Can't even cum without my help? Need me to talk you through it,” he smirked, his ego inflating. The desperate whine you let out made him grip the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white.

“Please Changkyun, please. Need you until I can’t take any more. Fuck me until I cry,” you begged and begged. Your hips had risen off of the bed and despite your best efforts you were right at the edge but unable to crest it.

Changkyun was running up the stairs to your apartment as he listened to you struggle. He could clearly picture you, brow screwed up with concentration, sweat beading on your nose as you tried to let go.

“Stop,” he instructed as he ascended the last flight of steps. “Listen to me, kitten, stop touching yourself for a second.”

You frowned, pulling your hand away. It wasn't like it was doing any good anyways. You were down so bad that you seemed to need him in the flesh.

“You want to cum?”

“I want to,” you exhaled sharply. You were frustrated at yourself more than anything else.

“Let me in,” he cooed. “Let me in and I'll give you what you need.”

Your eyes shot open and once you processed his words, you bolted to the door. Nearly ripping the door off its hinges, you jumped into his arms, kissing him voraciously. You felt him chuckle before he licked into your mouth with an intensity that made you shiver. He was here.

“Had me aching for you the whole way over,” he snarled, nipping at your neck. “My cock is throbbing for you.”

“Changkyun,” you pawed at his shirt frantically.

“So needy,” he laughed as he carried you to the bedroom.

“Please,” you didn’t care that you seemed desperate. You would’ve taken him on the floor if he’d let you.

His lips quirked up into a smirk as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“You'll take what I give you,” he raised an eyebrow at you when you let out an impatient whine.

You pressed your lips shut. You really weren't in a position to be making demands. Instead you squeezed your knees together impatiently as you watched him undress at a speed that you knew was just to make you crazy.

“Don’t you want to be inside of me?” you asked him, feigning innocence. “I thought you said you wanted me to sit on your cock like a good girl, but you’re taking really long!”

Changkyun let out a derisive snort, his eyebrow jerking upwards again, and gestured you towards him. You stood from the bed and brought yourself toe to toe with him and he looked down his nose at you, eyes intense.

“Have you always been this noisy?” he asked.

Your jaw dropped slightly. His words zipped through you like electricity. Your pupils dilated as you looked up at him in wonder.

“I asked you a question,” he cupped your cheek in a deceptively tender gesture.

“No, I don’t think I’m noisy,” you found your voice.

“Hm, well then I wonder what inspired the change,” he laughed.

Before you could answer, Changkyun’s thumb had slipped through your lips and was pressing down on your tongue. Your mouth closed around his digit reflexively and your tongue reached forward to caress him softly.

“So pretty,” he smiled at you, eyes glued to your lips.

You hummed happily at this scrap of praise. You nursed his thumb in your mouth until he pulled his hand back minutes later. He wiped the saliva off on your cheek before he finished unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off. As you watched him intently, you let out little noises of appreciation that were going straight to his head, but he did his best not to show it.

“Changkyun,” your hands reached out towards him, unable to wait any more.

“What is it?” he held you at arms length, making you squirm under his intense gaze. “I want you to use your words.”

Normally this would've made you shy beyond being able to speak, but he had teased you for so long that your typical inhibitions were gone.

“I want you to ruin me,” you answered him solemnly. “I want you to use me. I want you to be rough, I really need it.”

“Hm,” his lips drew into a line as he considered your words. “Are you mine for the night?”

“Yours period,” you nodded breathlessly. You'd thought it many times but it knocked the wind out of your sails to say it out loud.

Changkyun felt the knot in his chest unfurl. The feeling of stuckness he'd been experiencing over you started to undo itself.

“Mine. Period.” he pulled you towards him by the back of your neck.

You melted.

“Yours,” you reinforced, fingertips tracing along his waistband. “Changkyun, please.”

“Yes,” he answered, pushing you to your knees. You smiled up at him before slipping your fingers into his waistband and pulling down.

Changkyun was surprised at the speed with which you took him into your mouth. Your tongue lapped firmly up his length before you reversed direction, nursing his tip between your lips. He hissed at the sensitive pressure and the way that your eyes lit up at the sound made his knees nearly buckle.

“Enough,” he withdrew from your, pulling you up to your feet. He guided you onto the bed and pressed you onto your back with his hand splayed across your chest. Slotting himself between your legs, he gave you a look that conveyed his hot, heavy attraction. You squirmed.

“Changkyun,” you whined, “Baby, please!”

“Baby?” his eyebrow raised, fixing you with a bemused look.

Your face got hot.

“Oh-I, um…,” you floundered under his gaze.

Changkyun smiled as he watched you stutter. He didn’t mind the moniker, of course, but he had been surprised to hear you use a pet name for him.

“It’s okay, I like it,” he finally reassured you after watching you squirm for a while. “You want me to fuck you, baby?”

“Yes!” you cried, rocking your hips anxiously, desperate for more.

Changkyun settled back and watched as you ground yourself desperately against him. He found himself hypnotized by the way your lips caressed his swollen, red tip, coating it with your juices. His hand on your chest held you in place, but you were trying your best to press forward and take more of his length. Cute.

“Please, please, please,” you’d been mumbling endlessly for a while now. Your brows were pinched together. What did you have to do to get him to fuck you?!

Changkyun’s eyes raked over you and he smirked. You were starting to unravel and he couldn’t wait for you to be completely undone.

“Baby, please!” your eyes snapped open as your patience finally snapped. “I can feel the tip but I need more! Need to feel you inside of me, Changkyun please!”

That did it. His eyes widened just a fraction before his hands found purchase in your hips and he pulled you down on his swollen cock slowly. When he had fully sheathed himself in you, he leaned forward, grabbing the sides of your face for a kiss. You returned it voraciously as you bucked desperately against his cock buried deep inside of you.

“So desperate,” he chuckled against your lips. “Just a little hole for me to bury myself in.”

Largely unintelligible cries left your mouth. A string of babbles as he started driving into you deep and hard.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he groaned appreciatively as your walls clenched around him, squeezing him tight. God damn it, he was close.

“I’m, I’m, I-,” your brows pinched together as you looked up at him. Your thumb rubbed against the back of his hand. Your tell.

“Be a good girl and cum for me,” he coaxed you, fingers tweaking your nipple, sending you over the edge.

“Changkyun!!” you cried, back arching up off of the bed towards him as you came completely undone.

Hearing you scream his name as you came pushed him over the edge and he quickly followed you. Falling onto his forearms, he shuddered before deflating slightly onto you. You wrapped your arms around his broad chest and you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. You were so satisfied.

“We can talk more about this tomorrow, but I do want you to be mine,” he murmured in your ear.

Your eyes snapped open at this confession and a sigh of relief left your lips.

“I-, I’d like that,” you admitted shyly.

Changkyun smiled and pressed soft kisses against your neck. He’d stay the night and you’d work out the details tomorrow.

#changkyun x reader #changkyun smut #changkyun fanfic #monsta x smut #monsta x x reader #monsta x fanfic #seungkwansphd:writes

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astroyongie · 2 months

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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Numb

Read with the song: https://open.spotify.com/intl-pt/track/2xCucTP5OkXJ7ISUk4xlBB?si=fb723270ee6a406a

Warnings: Smut

Parings: Changkyun x Reader

“What do you want from me?” Changkyun asked, a frown covering his face as he watched you from the corner of his eye.

You mumbled to yourself, looking around at his studio, before flopping into the red couch, sighing when your body was surrounded by the expensive leather. The night was ringing outside, the city lights and the buzy cars roaming in Seoul. But here, in the intimacy of Changkyun’s studio everything was quiet, gloomy, the purple lights from the neon being the only thing that allowed you to see past darkness. There was a scent of strawberry and incense in the air.

“Nothing” you said, not bothering to look at him, as you reached for your phone in your pocket, scrolling away for something interesting. “I am just here for the company”

Changkyun ignored you with a huff, turning back to his computer as he arranged a few new accords. Probably for a new release, you figured. As an artist, music had always been his priority, and it often came even before pleasurable release.

He was always like this. You have been sleeping with him for the past 3 months. The moment Changkyun had terminated his relationship with a fellow idol, that you didn't bother to recall the name of, he had grown closer to you. Naturally, your friendship quickly became something more. There were boundaries that none of you dared to reach and despite your feelings for the black haired man, Changkyun had always made clear that this would be purely physical.

Changkyun was someone cold, quiet but he was a good lover and an even greater company. The only one that wouldn't interrupt you when you complained about your day, the one that would give you actual advice and be able to satisfy you physically. It was a win-win situation. You wanted a sneaky link, and Changkyun well... you never figured exactly what he wanted from you. Sex was the main topic but often he would invite you out for dinner or just to chill while constantly reminding you of his boundaries. You were okay with whatever you guys had.

For now.

You sighed, tossing your phone away. There wasn't anything interesting on your social media, and Changkyun didn't seem to give you any of his attention either. You knew the rules. He would call you, you came and waited until he finished his work, before you could get into his pants. Yet, this was taking way too long. He was playing the exact same melodies over and over, groaning to himself each time.

What a perfectionist, you thought. Sighing again, louder this time, you looked at him. Still nothing. You proceed to repeat. Nothing. Maybe if you coughed he would look at you–

“y/n” he called and you smirked that your cough had caught his attention. “Shut up”

“Kyun, I am bored” you said, swinging your legs as you sat down on the couch. You didn’t want to be a whining brat, but you needed stimulation or some kind of attention before it drove you mad.

“Not my problem. I have got to finish this first.”

“You are inconsiderate”

“And you are acting up.” he said, turning his chair to look at you. You couldn't help but bit your bottom lip at the intensity of his gaze “Fix that attitude of yours''

“Don't want to fix it yourself?”

Changkyun rolled his eyes, turning his chair back to his computer and you groaned out in annoyance. Fine, if he didn't want to give you attention, you would force it out of him. Standing up, you made your way to Changkyun in silence. You knew this was dangerous but you just couldn’t help it. Not now at least. Reaching forward you closed the screen of his laptop. Before he could say anything in protest, you pushed yourself between him and that damned electronic device. Making room between the chair and his desk, you dropped on your knees in front of him, a grin on your lips.

“I came here to fuck” you reminded him, loving the way he was giving you that glare. “Will you do your job or do I have to do it myself?”

“If you want it that bad, do it yourself.”

There was so much defiance in your eyes as you heard his challenge. You were quick to work on his belt, tossing the accessory away. Your hands went for his pants, your eyes glued to your price, as you pulled his pants down enough to relieve his black boxers. You touched him a first, feeling his groin against the palm of your hands, grinning wider when you felt it twist, ever so slightly. Releasing his shaft from its confinements, you wrapped your hand around it. Even without being hard, he was already delicious. You opted to give it a few light strokes, working Changyun up, slowly. As he started to get harder against your palm, your mouth went in, leaving behind sloppy kisses and kitten licks until you could hear his body shift and his breathing changing.

“If you open that computer again while I am sucking you off, I will use my teeth” you threatened, reminding yourself of the last time you had given him head in his studio. Changkyun laughed, his ringed fingers rubbing his own face before he went to caress your cheek. It was affectionate, almost too much. You hated to admit it, but the way his bony fingers touched your skin, made your heart skip.

“You wouldn't dare.”

“Oh I would,” you said with a grin, before finally taking the tip into your mouth, circling your tongue around the head. Changkyun groned, allowing his body to rest against his chair. His hand went to your hair, grabbing it skillfully out of your face so he could get a better view. Obviously, he couldn’t help himself but guide you with it, not enough to be rough, yet enough to be demanding.

Your hands went to the base of his shaft, stroking him lazily as you allowed yourself to suck and lick him, until he was moisturized enough for your taste. When you heard the click of his tongue, you smirked, finally taking him fully into your mouth as you bobbed your head up and down, using your hands to touch what your mouth couldn't reach. Soon, the studio was echoing with soft groans and occasionally little moans from him. Yet, each time you would look at him, Changkyun still had the same expression that haunted his eyes.

Numbness. His whole face expression was deprived, the only faint tint of pink blushing his cheeks, giving away his enthusiasm along with the angelic sounds living his lips.

Closing your eyes, you breathed heavily through your nose, trying to focus on the pleasure you were giving him. Now wasn’t the moment to care about feelings.

“Darlin’, put more into it” he instructed as he looked down at you.

You opened your eyes, looking up at him with half lidded eyes, your cheeks hollow to accommodate his shaft inside your mouth. Changkyun’s eyes held no feeling towards you. You could tell. He looked at you as if you were a remedy, a pill that he needed to consume to erase negative thoughts out of his mind. You didn't care, he was free to use you as much as he wanted.

You pushed his member further into your mouth, your hands resting on his thighs this time. You felt the tears swelling in your eyes, as you forced yourself to breathe through your nose. Changkyun was hitting the back of your throat, his own hips moving according to his own wishes. It was his moans however that were sending you astray. Pushing yourself further, you hollow your cheeks, tongue pressed firmly against his veins. Your jaw was killing you from the angle. As long as he was feeling pleasure, you could push through it.

You looked up at him again, the sight sending shocks of pleasure waves through your core. He was watching you so intensely, that your cheeks blushed without your accord. You could only wish that the dim neon purple light was hiding in it. You could almost feel it. The hint of him adoring you, perhaps meddled feelings playing on his heart. If you could just suck these feelings out of him, you knew you could reach his heart, you just needed to work on it more, you just–

“Don’t put faith in us” as if he had read your mind, he confessed, his breathing steady again. You frowned, removing your mouth from him. You used your hand to wipe your lips, the saliva coating both his dick and your jaw. The lack of contact made him hiss, but you were quick to use your hands up and down his member to keep him occupied.

“It’s not like I am asking to be your girl, Changkyun”

“And you better not do it. Ever”

“Would that be so bad?” You asked, forcing a chuckle out of you to light the mood. You needed to pretend you weren't so serious, or else you could lose whatever thing you both had.

“You know I just need to revive, love” he hummed, his free hand intertwined on his black hair, removing it from his forehead. Changkyun was gorgeous, and you couldn’t help but look at him in all his glory. You hated that you wanted him so bad.

“Don’t you feel alive when you are with me?”

“I do”

Lies. His eyes didn't shone, the numb feeling plastered on his iris. You knew pretty well the only person on his mind was his ex, You just didn't want to admit it to yourself, it was too painful. you wanted to believe that your body, your company was enough for him. You could only thank Changkyun’s ego that would never allow him to go back to his ex. The same ego that was unfortunately also not allowing you to break his walls.

You removed your eyes from him, taking him on your mouth again, sucking at his dick more eagerly this time. You couldn't help but feel your core tingle each time he groaned out in pleasure. You would go through this, you thought. No matter how many times you would have to be on your knees, you would break him.

“fuck..”

He swore, his eyes closed shut as he focused on the pleasure. You bobbed your head faster, sucking his dick like the damn lollipop that he was. Maybe, if you were good enough, he would reconsider it. Gradually, his moans become louder and his breathing heavier. You hummed around him, whimpering when you felt his hand tugging at your hair again. A few more movements of his own hips snapping against your face and he was done. Changkyun released hot seed through a low groan, moving his hips lazily until he was finished.

You felt his hand losing its grip around your hair, his body relaxing against his chair as he caught his breathing. You released him from your mouth, swallowing what you could.

“You are my weakness, y/n”

You didn’t believe him. This was just him and his post nut self talking. Standing up, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, tasting the reminds of him on your tongue once more, before you climbed into his lap, his half lidded eyes, looking at you as if you were half of a nuisance, half an object of lust.

“What are you doing y/n?”

“I will fuck the numb out of you, Im Changkyun.”

#Changkyun #Changkyun smut #Changkyun scenarios #Changkyun reactions #Changkyun headcanons #Changkyun imagines #Changkyun x reader #monsta x #monsta x smut #monsta x changkyun #monsta x headcanons #monsta x scenarios #monsta x reactioms #monsta x imagines

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miabebe · 5 months

Text

I Am What I Am (V)

A man of the shadows and a woman who belonged in the skies - fate could not have brought two more different people together.

But was this fate or was this a choice?

Pairing - Im Changkyun x OC, Kim Mingyu × OC

Word Count - 7.3K

Warnings - guns, slight mentions of violence blood, death. This is a necessary, filler chapter so its not as intense, but boy oh boy, brace yourselves for the next one my friends :) also, I tried a new writing style, so the pov in this chapter is a little different!

Previous chapter

Much to her surprise, when Na bi woke up the next day, it was already past noon.

She had passed out from all that exhaustion quite early last night - the muscles of her legs were still sore but the warmth of the bed and the weight of the duvet were comforting. She had forgotten to close the curtains before dozing off and now the yellow of the sun was all over the room. The trees outside were standing still as ever, birds chirped all around - The forest looked so alive, yet still felt so daunting.

Dragging herself off the bed, she closed the curtains, submerging the room into darkness before flipping the switches of the lights.

Something had changed.

Na bi walked up to the small study in the corner, eyes falling on the new contents on the table. It was her belongings - her unnecessarily thick medical textbooks, study guides, lecture notes - all her personal material from home, neatly stacked. On the shelf were her novels, magazines she liked to flip through, journals she had filled over the years. How did he manage to get these?

Even her toiletries were arranged for, neatly laid out by the sink - new bottles of her soap, shampoo, creams and serums of her night routine. In the ten minutes she took to wash up, a fresh set of clothes which, albeit she didn't change into, were laid out for her and outside, on the table was a piping a hot coffee and biscuits. Her bed had been made, the curtains were pulled back again, and the fire of the night had been put out. It was as though Changkyun had a bunch of elves working around here for him - efficient, meticulous and invisible.

Na bi sipped on her coffee as she looked through the books and papers on her table again. When Changkyun said whatever she needed would be arranged for, he kept his word - every small thing, down to drawing pencils and her favourite set of highlighters was here.

Everything except her laptop.

Na bi looked around, eyes searching for it as another realisation slowly dawned upon her. She hadn't seen her phone in very long either. Panicking slightly, she left her coffee and rummaged through the sheets of the freshly made bed - it was not there. She opened the drawers of her bedside table hurriedly, scoured the shelves and cupboards of the room, checked the bathroom, checked the closet but it was nowhere to be found. She tried to recall when she last saw it. A very faint memory told her it dropped out of her hand when she was shoved into Wonho's van.

Fuck.

She needed that phone, how was anything going to work out without it?

Na bi sank onto an ottoman, massaging her temples, her mind behind it racing. She wasn't prepared for this. She hadn't expected things to be in motion so soon; screw Mingyu for not so much as warning her before putting their plan to action. But now it was too late to curse him - she was already in the middle of it all and she had to figure it out on her own, there was no other way.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed her hair back, pulling it into a tight ponytail, something she rarely ever did. Leaving her half empty coffee cup on the table, she stuffed two biscuits in her mouth for some sugar and slowly opened the door of her bedroom. If she was going to crack Changkyun's empire, his house would be the first place to begin.

When Na bi stepped into the familiar corridor, she found herself alone again, a chill running down her spine. It wasn't eerie or haunting in anyway, but the thought of just what she might discover in this inhabitation was terrifying her already. Cautiously, she began walking further down the corridor, doors of two rooms coming into her view - one she assumed was the second guest bedroom Changkyun mentioned and the other was perhaps his own. Surely if there was any place in this house that could give her a clue, it had to be his room.

Opening the first door on her way, Na bi immediately concluded it to be a guest room for the layout was unmistakably, exactly the same as hers - the colour of the walls, the sheets, the furniture, all of it. Except the view from the window. From the left most corner, Na bi caught sight of a sliver of the beach she saw yesterday. So it wasn't a mirage conjured by her exhaustion or a figment of her imagination.....

Gulping at the possibilities, she slowly left, proceeding to the next room, only to find it locked shut. She tried the handle a few times, with both force and technique but neither could open it. Stepping back she glanced at the walls that spanned on either sides of it. It had to be a huge room, which meant it most definitely was Changkyun’s but clearly, neither was he home, nor was anything about him accessible to her.

Na bi though, wasn't one to accept defeat. Besides, how hard could it be to break into a room? One bobbypin and she could have easily found her way in. And perhaps she would have too if she didn't hear the strange sounds of clanking metal from a distance. Frowning, she turned, walking towards the source, trying to locate it. Softly she whispered Changkyun's name, guessing it was him and instantly, the noise stopped. And so did Na bi.

After a long silence and a long period of immobility, Na bi finally took another daring step ahead, the living space downstairs slowly coming into view. It was just as empty as yesterday, only more harshly lit by the afternoon sun. It looked just as beautiful though, she observed as she walked down the stairs, looking around. Changkyun was definitely a man of strange taste but she didn't expect to find herself in approval of it. Except those ceiling high windows. Those still made her stomach churn with discomfort.

When Na bi managed to make it all the way down to the last step, she stumbled, noticing a door she hadn't really seen before. The walls felt warm and she could hear the sound of firewood crackling from the other side. Wondering if that was the source of the noise, she knocked softly before grabbing the handle and pushing the door, only to feel a hand rest on her shoulder.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

Na bi bit back a scream, turning to meet the eyes of a woman almost a whole head smaller than her, looking at her fiercely. Her salt and pepper hair was neatly pulled back into a bun, and with her cute little pink apron and half moon glasses, one would think she was a sweet old lady, but the sharpness of her tone told Na bi otherwise.

"I'm...I'm looking for Changkyun." Na bi watched the woman physically wince at the mention of his name. "Where is he?"

"Master's not home." Master? She wiped her hands on her apron before walking past her and closed the door loudly. The point had been made. "If you there's something you need, you can ask me."

"Is this Changkyun's room?"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it is."

Na bi's eyes flickered between her and the room. What was in there? And if this was his room, who did the room upstairs belong to? And why was it locked?

"Wait, wait." She rushed as the older woman began walking away, following her footsteps. "Where's Changkyun?"

"Master is a busy man." She huffed. "He comes and goes as he pleases-"

"Goes where?"

"He doesn't inform me about his whereabouts."

"When does he usually come back?"

"Whenever he decides to."

"When is that usually-"

"Ms. Baek," Na bi's lips parted in surprise at the mention of her name. And at the faint but apparent annoyance in the woman's voice. "I do not concern myself with master's business and frankly, neither should you. But if your curiosity cannot handle the ignorance then I suggest you ask him yourself, whenever he's back."

And with that, she walked off into the kitchen across, a lot faster than before. Na bi stood in the middle of the hall, staring at a loss.

There's a lot you need to learn about this place Ms. Baek.

Indeed there was. The rooms of this house were just the beginning of things. If she was to be successful in her mission, she needed to know all that was there to know. She had to unravel Changkyun’s world down to the core and she had to do it without letting him get even the faintest idea as to why she was here - that would ruin everything. So right now, what Na bi most desperately needed..... was a friend.

She turned to look at the only other person she had seen here, standing behind the kitchen island, mixing soup in a pot, cutting up some greens and putting something into an oven, all simultaneously. She was perfectly efficient, timing her moves just right, smoothly executing her tasks. She looked not too old, perhaps in her mid fifties, crowsfeet aligned by her eyes which were somewhat soft under all that snappy exterior. If Na bi made the right moves, she knew she could break through that hard perosona of hers and make a potential ally. Only problem was, Na bi had no idea how to make friends.

Silently going back to her room, she threw herself on the bed and stared at the grey ceiling. Her whole life, much to the contrary of what most people believed, Na bi was quite the loner. She rarely went to team dinners, never joined them on karaoke nights and barely ever participated in birthdays or other celebrations. She wasn't hostile to people or unfriendly, no; she just didn't have the time and energy to engage in social niceties. She had cordial relationships with her colleagues and neighbours but that was about it. Seokmin was the only exception in her rather isolated life.

Two years ago, when she first joined the hospital, he too was just like everyone else, a mere acquitance. Somehow, over time, he warmed up to her and honestly, rather insistently inserted himself into her life. Thank god for him though. Na bi didn't know what she would do without that crazy guy who somehow always there when she needed him (which wasn't very often), who always tolerated her rather unbothered attitude (which was very often) and who would always look out for her, no questions asked.

Even though Mingyu had asked her not to inform a soul about her mission, she regretted not telling Seokmin about everything. He was probably worried by her lack of response, but hopefully, he just assumed her radio silence to be just one of her usual unsociable moods - she often ignored him over the weekends and holiday season, knowing he would attempt to set her up with one of his many, many friends.

But Na bi wasn't the kind to date either. Dating apps were completely out of question - they demanded way too much time and commitment. Over time, she disliked meeting the people Seokmin or her other colleagues set her up with too; it was just hours and hours of talking leading to nowhere. Can a person really be understood over a meal and a conversation held specifically in order to impress? It didn't make any sense to her.

Rather, she preferred her not-so-regular-but-quite-frequent rendezvous - Flirting with men at the bar, hooking up at the convenience of their cars or homes, and leaving, first thing in the morning, never to see them again. Atleast those encounters were honest in intention and brief with expectations. Seokmin often ate her ear off about how now that she was getting older, maybe it was time to settle down with one person and though she heard him (and partly agreed), she as usual feigned ignorance.

That's why when Mingyu walked into her life, she decided to take the chance. Things with him flowed so smoothly and were so easy going, she thought perhaps finally, she had managed to find someone more permanent. She found herself willingly going on dates, happily having hours of conversation and was pleasantly surprised that they were on the same wavelength about most things. He seemed to understand her; he was willing to go the extra mile whenever she pulled herself back, he was ok with taking a step back when she wasn't ready - it was as though he knew exactly what she needed.

Except he really did know exactly what she needed. He was nothing but a facade, a man tailor made for her after days of observing and studying her, presented in a way they knew she would be interested enough to meet again and again. It worked. Oh it worked wonderfully well for them, because honestly, Na bi did not ever see herself dressing up for a man but..... it wasn't their triumph.

Deep down Na bi knew what was the exact and the real reason she met Mingyu time and again. It was because he was a cop. It was for Changkyun. It was because should anything happen to Changkyun, Mingyu would be one of the more reliable sources to find out from.

Na bi sat up, crossing her legs, just the thought of it making her nauseous. Sure she was attracted to Changkyun, sure she knew he was dangerous but she did not think he would be the one responsible for Ana.... of course, since she found out, she no longer had the same kind of interest in him.

But the moment he appeared before her yesterday, the moment he met her eye, something in her stomach dropped and she knew - the effect he had on her was far from gone. Na bi though, wasn't insensible or unreasonable. She knew what she was here to do and no matter what happened, she was not willing to end up as the prey in this hunt.

So, to begin with, there were 2 things she had to focus on - 1. breaking the ice with that older woman and 2. figuring out this strange place she was holed up in. And with that clarity, Na bi began her mission, scribbling down the details of her discoveries in her new journal every night.

Day 1

I got together a bunch of papers and started drawing out the layout of the house. Whatever I've seen of it at least. I need to map the whole place out, and whatever is around here too - the forest, the beach, find other landmarks, any and all clues that can help identity this location. I shall do it, one step at a time. But I need to be careful. That older woman, who I think is the housekeeper here, tends to walk into my room anytime. Thank god I managed to hide the papers when she came to give me lunch. (Kimchi pasta and orange juice, absolutely delicious). There's a loose floorboard I found by the fireplace. These drawings should be secure there as of now.

But I don't know what to do about the her. When I smile at her, she simply nods and walks away. She's going to be a tough nut to crack. I watched her all afternoon, sitting in the living room with my books. She left from the backdoor at 3 and came back only at 5. I ate dinner with her at the breakfast bar, tteokbokki and orange juice again, not that I'm complaining. I told her to not refer to me as Ms. Baek and to call me Na bi. She said I could call her Mrs. Lee. She didn't speak much after that, just cleaned up everything and disappeared. Its almost 11 at night now, and I don't think I was really successful with anything today but I'm trying. One step at a time.

Oh and Changkyun didn't come home the whole day today.

Day 2

Changkyun did come home today.

I made it a point to wake up earlier than usual and as I got out of the room, I saw him, sitting at the breakfast bar, eating an omelette. But by the time I got down the stairs to approach him, he left. I don't know if he saw me or if he was ignoring me but I keep missing out on opportunities to talk to him.

I think I made a little more progress with Mrs. Lee though. If my eyes didn't betray me, she might have given a small smile when I thanked for coffee and my favourite breakfast, avocado toast and milk. I watched her again today - she has the exact same routine. She served me kimchi rice and orange juice at 12 and then by 3, she disappeared out of the back door. I followed her this time. There's this small garden at the back of the house with all sorts of vegetables and herbs but there was also a path, leading to a cottage. When I looked through the window, it seemed like Mrs. Lee was getting ready to nap. I think she lives there. It makes sense because there was no other room in the house that could belong to her. Which meant that locked room upstairs belonged to someone I don't know about.

Obviously I broke in. Somehow. I couldn't find a hairpin but I managed to grab a few old pens and do the trick. It was nothing like I expected though - it was a plain old bedroom, albeit bigger, brighter and disappointing. I was hoping to find something concrete here, anything at all, not just antique furniture and vintage dresses which oddly looked very similar to the ones I was dressed in when I first got here. I searched every inch of that place, there was truly nothing of value or even a clue hinting who it belonged to. Only Mrs. Lee could answer that question for me.

I wasn't really sure how to bring it up to her, so I just tried to make casual conversation about it using the dresses. I brought them down before dinner, showed it to her and-

Na bi looked up from her diary, the conversation replaying in her head.

"These clothes." She placed them on the kitchen counter. "I never got the chance to thank you for them."

"You don't have to thank me." Mrs. Lee glanced at them, mumbling. "I thought the red one would look nice on you."

"It is beautiful." Na bi sat down, softly running her fingers over the material. "I'm so sorry, it tore....are they yours?"

"Imagine a hag like me in dresses like that." Mrs. Lee scoffed. "It belonged to my mistress."

Na bi felt something sink in the pits of her stomach. "Mistress?"

"She loved dresses, had a huge collection in fact. A perfect one for every occasion." The use of past tense did not slip past Na bi. "A beautiful woman who only made the dresses she wore more beautiful."

"I should probably apologise to her then. Where is she...." Na bi trailed off looking at the woman's eyes become slightly wet.

"She was the sweetest thing alive. I don't think she would have minded. Master on the other hand, I'm afraid he was a little... displeased."

Na bi tugged the edges of the dress nonchalantly. "He must really love her."

"More than anything in the world." She sighed, slowing down her stirring. "That's why he's always hurting...."

Her voice softened as she looked at Na bi, eyes shaking like she spoke more than she should have. This was what Na bi wanted anyways - carefully guarded information being let slip. But she had to take it slow, to not raise any suspicions. And Mrs. Lee didn't seem like she was willing to let anything else slip as silence took over between them again.

-she said it belonged to her Mistress. Whoever she is, or was, either she doesn't live here anymore or she's dead, I don't know which. But it's proved Mingyu wrong. Changkyun cannot possibly be interested in me. Not when he had someone else in his life. Someone he cared enough about to still hold on to her personal belongings. Then why was he looking out for me? What do I mean to him?

Who knows? He could answer my questions, he's the only one who can but yet again, he didn't come home.

Day 3

Today I drew more of the map. I left the house before sunrise, followed the same route I took the time I first ran out of here and yet again, it took me to the beach. I passed almost 58 large trees, ran almost 3km west of the house to reach it. I still don't understand how I can possibly be near the sea. Where on Earth is this place?

I made sure to return in time for breakfast though, but Changkyun was not there today. I had toast and milk again and Mrs. Lee seemed more guarded than usual, perhaps after yesterday's slip up. But she didn't seem as unfriendly, maybe because I squeezed the orange juice for lunch by myself. When she was gone by 3, I knew what I wanted to do today - search through Changkyun's room. So I did just that, except today..... he was inside.

Na bi felt her hands shake as she recalled the encounter.

"Ms. Baek."

Na bi froze, hand on the handle as the voice boomed behind her.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She turned around slowly, eyes falling on the not so large room with a really large table in the centre, Changkyun seated behind.

"I uh...thought I heard you in here." She slowly walked in.

"Really?" He looked at her amused. "I'm known to be quiet as a cat."

Na bi gulped, clearing her throat. "You.... haven't been home in a while."

"Neither have you." He titled his head at her. "I stopped by your room this morning."

Na bi felt her heart hammering away in her chest.

"I....must've been in the shower."

"I didn't hear the water running."

"Oh then," Na bi looked away, at the fireplace, thinking quick. "You probably came when I was in the garden."

"You left the house?"

She stared at the flames harder, hoping not to give herself away. "Why? Am I not allowed to?"

"No." Na bi turned to him surprised as he continued. "There are no restrictions on you here Ms. Baek, you are free to do or go wherever you wish."

"Really? There's a room upstairs though....that you keep locked." She looked at him, trying not to seem too inquisitive, probably horribly failing at it. "Am I not allowed in there?"

"Can locked doors possibly keep you away?"

Na bi blinked at him. Did he know that she...

"That door has been like that for years." He clarified. "Simply locks every time it's closed."

"Oh." Na bi licked her lips, walking closer up to him, the contents of his table getting clearer with each step. "Then what about this room? Mrs. Lee stopped me from entering it a few days back."

He smiled. "Perhaps because entering someone's personal room in their absence is a sign of poor etiquette."

"Of course." Na bi glanced at the papers on his table, holding her breath as she did.

Maps. Hundreds of them. Much like the one stashed safely in her room, the one she was drawing out.

She looked up meeting his eye. "So you're not....hiding anything here?"

Changkyun leaned back, expression unreadable but he shook his head. "Not from you, no."

Why not though?

"What are all these then?" She pointed, stuffing her hands in the back pockets of her jeans so he couldn't see them shake.

"Maps of different areas in Seoul." He spread them out further, allowing her to take a closer look. "This is how I keep my business organised."

"Huh." She nodded, noticing red crosses and black circles scattered all over the papers. "What kind of um business do you-"

She jumped a little, at the sound of a strange static noise, unable to recognise its source.

"What's that sound?"

"My cue. I have to go, there's a meeting..." He got up and Na bi immediately took a few unnecessary steps back as he walked up to her. "Meanwhile, the reason I was looking for you..."

He handed her a familiar, shiny black device that felt cold in her palm.

"Wonho said you dropped it when he picked you up."

Her phone.

Na bi inwardly sighed in relief as she wrapped her fingers around the cold metal. Changkyun walked up to the door, donning a blazer over his trademark black shirt. Na bi followed him out, her mind still focused on the contents on the table. She knew she was far from done with this room.

He returned my phone to me but its as good as not having one. There's a crack, right across the camera lens, rendering any picture I take absolutely unfathomable. And I don't get any signal here, not one bar. I can't contact Mingyu or Seokmin, that phone is as good as a brick.

When Mrs. Lee came back, I helped her with making dinner. I know I'm no cook but I can follow instructions and I think I did a good job of it? She was afterall talking to me sweetly and even gave me an extra helping of her special homemade kimchi. Maybe I'm not far from making a friend here but Chankgyun.... I still can't figure him out.

I still don't get him.

Day 4

I covered the North side today.

It's.... its the same. Almost 5km of trees, trees and more trees and the end of it all, a beach. I'm getting a faint inkling as to where I actually am but..... I don't want to think about it. If what I'm assuming is true, I couldn't be more trapped.

Yet again I didn't see Changkyun for breakfast but I didn't see Mrs. Lee either. She was back in the garden, trying to deal with some weeds and dying tomatoes.

Fate, if its real, must be trying to help me because who knew better about gardening than I did. I think that hour we spent, fixing up those shrubs probably broke the last of the ice between us. Mrs. Lee was smiling more than usual, talking about the plants and all her recipes, and just seemed to have warmed up to me now. So I thought it wouldn't be too wrong to ask her the question.

"Mrs. Lee, I was trying to call a friend yesterday. You see I didn't get the chance to tell anyone I was going to be away, but I wasn't getting any signal? Is there.... is there any place where I can get better cell service or something?"

"Around here? No dear, there's no cell towers for miles." She tugged the weeds. "We don’t need them anyways, no one around here uses phones."

Na bi felt a wave of apprehension wash over her.

"Then... how do you contact people? Like your family?"

"Master is all the family I have." She smiled. "And need."

I think don't know if Mrs.Lee was telling the truth about the phones. But her statement did confirm something else I've been wondering - we're not the only ones, there are others. Others who lived around here and perhaps, they can help me understand more about this place. I just need to find them.

After lunch today, I wasn't able to explore anymore - Mrs. Lee needed help with the garden again. I wasn't able to extract any more information from her either, she was too focused on the task at hand. But over dinner, she did say something that surprised me.

"You really seem to like my kimchi."

Na bi took a break from shoving a huge bite into her mouth and looked up, nodding.

"I like everything you make. I don't get to eat much fresh food at home. I pretty much survive on kimbaps and instant noodles."

Mrs. Lee frowned at her, shaking her head. "You poor thing. Must be tough, having to eat those miserable packaged food."

"I don't really mind it." Na bi confessed. "I actually really like it-"

"Well you're not going to find any of that poison in this house." She crossed her arms. "I don't allow it. It's unhealthy and atrocious. Master is already picky with eating vegetables, imagine adding those preservatives to his system."

Na bi raised an eyebrow. "He doesn't eat vegetables? What a five year old."

"Indeed." Mrs. Lee broke into a fond smile. "You should've seen him when he was actually five. He wouldn't even take a bite of the kimbaps I used to make. Always spat it right out."

The image of his full cheeks as he munched on the kimbap in her home flashed in Na bi's head. I'm not picky.

"Thanks to you, I've been able to get him to eat at least a few vegetables a day. Even though he still insists on having some meat every meal-"

Na bi tried to swallow her bite quickly. "Because of me?"

"Yes you. I've been cooking more vegetarian dishes recently since, well, Master told me you're a vegetarian. And so I can..."

Na bi didn't hear anymore. Not with her mind full of thoughts.

He knows what I eat. He knows what I wear. He knows what I smell like. He knows everything yet I don't know why. Why did he bother to know so much? If like Mingyu said, he is interested in me, why hasn't he made any move, or even conversation?

I can't figure him out. I can't figure him out at all.

Day 5

Today morning I managed to cover the South side. It took considerably longer cause it was much larger, 10km at least, but to no one's surprise, ending at a beach. 3 directions, all ending at a beach, I think what I fear is true..... perhaps tomorrow I will be able to prove it.

But there was something I didn't see elsewhere - a helipad. At least that's what I'm guessing it is. It was just a large clearing in the woods, and by the way the impressions looked in the grass, that seemed like the most probable explanation. Yet another factor supporting my theory....

Also, I found out how they do it. Live without cell towers and phones that is.

Walkie talkies.

I saw Mrs. Lee talk into one over breakfast today. I don't know how I've never noticed it before, this black box like machine sitting in the corner of the kitchen counter. She said we were running out of rice and by the evening, there was a huge sack of it, sitting by the back door. I don't know much about walkie talkies and how they work, but I am aware that both parties need to be in a certain range. That's only further proof that there are others here, people who might be able to help me but also people I've never managed to catch sight of over the many days I've roamed around here. I need to explore the east side tomorrow. That might be the last piece to finish the puzzle of this place.

While Mrs. Lee took up most of my day, trying to teach me some simple recipes, I did manage to slip into Changkyun's room once again after lunch. There were no papers on the table this time, in fact it was completely empty. I tried looking through the drawers, the shelves - they were all empty.

The only other things in the room were a bed, a couch and a wardrobe. I looked through the wardrobe too - it was just a bunch of suits and hoodies that looked a whole lot more comfortable than the clothes kept in my room. Maybe that's why at that moment I decided to strip out of the really uncomfortable blouse I was wearing, into one of the hoodies....

"You really have a mind of your own don't you?"

Na bi knew before turning that Changkyun had just walked out of the bathroom; she had heard the water running. What she didn't expect was that he would be clad in nothing but his towel, hanging low on his waist, little rivets of water streaming down his torso. Na bi could not hide the way her eyes roamed over his body.

She cleared her throat, turning back to the wardrobe. "As should everyone."

As he began walking up to her, she grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt and threw it to him over her shoulder. The muffled sounds told her he had caught them and was slipping them on and it was only when she felt his breath on her neck that she knew he was done.

"You keep forgetting to breathe when you're around me Ms. Baek."

His voice was a soft whisper, making Na bi realise that she had indeed held her breath all this while and allowed herself to exhale. When she turned, she found herself trapped between him and the wardrobe behind her, her eyes flickering to between his lips and eyes. Changkyun raised his eyebrow as he looked pointedly at his grey hoodie which she had donned.

"You really oversold yourself with whole 'whatever you need will be arranged for' statement." She crossed her arms. "The clothes you filled my wardrobe with look like the personal collection of someone who cannot decide between being a victorian widow or a rebelious milkmaid from the alps."

Changkyun laughed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. "I knew Wonho didn't know a thing about women's fashion."

Na bi blinked at him. "Wonho bought the clothes?" Changkyun nodded.

"How... how did he know about the... blue?"

"I told him."

"Did you also tell him the scent I use?"

Changkyun nodded but scoffed looking at her expression. "It's a colour and a smell Ms. Baek. I have good memory. You need not feel grateful for the bare minimum."

"Okay then, How did you know I was vegetarian?"

"I guessed? Based on the your eating habits."

"But you were barely with me for a day. How could you know?"

Changkyun grew silent for a minute, looking rather amused.

"Your questions are rather different from what I expected you to ask me Ms. Baek." He leaned closer, as though he was searching her face for something. "You're rather unpredictable."

Na bi wanted to laugh at that. Maybe she would have if Mrs. Lee didn't knock to call them for dinner. As Changkyun left, Na bi winced at the loss of his warmth and his scent around her. No, no, no. She had to snap out of it.

He had dinner with me for the first time today. Mrs. Lee was right, he was indeed picky with his food and his vegetables - he refused to even touch the kimbap. He really had enjoyed the one I made him though. I don't know if he liked my food or dare I say, if he likes me....

I don't think I'll ever know.

Day 6

I was supposed to explore the east side today but I couldn't - Changkyun was home all day.

He was there eating breakfast with me. He was there, playing the piano as I pretended to read through my books. He was there for lunch, and there when Mrs. Lee took her usual siesta. We played chess all afternoon, which he, not surprisingly, ended up winning. I let him win - it was our first game afterall. I wanted to crack his gameplay more than I wanted to defeat him, see how his brain works, figure out how he thinks. He's..... straightforward. He wasn't hiding behind any moves, or playing any mind games. He was simple and upfront. I don't understand him any more than before.

After that I caught him leaving the house so this time I asked him where he was going. He said for a swim and asked if I wanted to join. I probably shouldn't have but....

Na bi followed Changkyun out of the back door of the house, walking the opposite direction of Mrs. Lee's cottage. She hadn't had the chance to explore the east side yet so she took each step behind him carefully, looking around as she moved. When the trees cleared before her and Changkyun moved out of her view, her eyes fell on a water spring, pouring out from behind stacked rocks into a small pool reflecting the blue of the skies and white of the clouds.

Na bi stared at it wordlessly, missing the moment Changkyun stripped out of his shirt and pants and jumped into the water, disappearing under it. Coming back to her senses with the splash of droplets all over her, she looked around in the dead emptiness of the woods.

Changkyun’s head appeared above the water, hand pushing back the dark hair sticking to his face as did the familiar sight of his drenched, sculpted abs. He looked at her, head tilted, eyes questioning.

"I... don't know how to swim." Na bi confessed. The pool didn't look too deep, one definitely didn't need to know how to swim to get in there but Changkyun didn't point that out as she pulled her pants up to her knees and sat on a rock, legs dangling in the waters.

Instead, he smirked. "Did you offer to come along just to watch me Ms. Baek?"

"Maybe." Na bi answered truthfully, trying not to let her eyes wander anywhere below his neck. Changkyun chuckled, disappearing under the water again, as Na bi relished the feeling of the cool waters around her legs.

He swam around for a while, submerging himself for long periods of time like a child trying to see how long he could hold his breath under water. Sometimes Na bi panicked when she didn't see him come up soon enough, but he always came up - the man could clearly hold his breath for a ridiculously long time.

As the sun began to set, the cool waters started feeling a lot colder, making Na bi pull her feet out, shivering. Watching her Changkyun got out, shaking the water off like a wet dog, making her cover herself, looking away. Grinning like a child, he walked away and to her surprise, began collecting a bunch of sticks and twigs from here and there. In five minutes, he stacked them all and pulled out his lighter from the pocket of the discarded pant and started a fire.

Na bi scooted closer to the flames as he dried himself off beside it and sadly, dressed himself up again. When he sat down across her, poking the sticks, she slowly began questioning him.

"So this is what you do around here?" She rubbed her hands warm. "Play the piano, swim out here, all alone?"

"When I have the time yeah." He replied, nodding. "Which is not often. I'm usually far too busy with my business to find time for such things."

What kind of business?

Strangely, Na bi felt bad for him. He didn't look like he was much older than her which meant he was in his late twenties too. She wondered how it was, living a life so isolated, so alone, so far away, in the shadows. She liked being alone too but his life seemed so.... lonely.

"I can't imagine. I've been here barely a week and I feel like I'm already losing my mind."

"Go out then." He stated like it was the obvious solution. "Some city air should help."

"Wait I..." Na bi tried not to look too shocked. "I can leave this place?"

"Of course Ms. Baek." He glanced at her amused. "You're not my prisoner."

"No I just.... thought it was too dangerous for me out there?"

"It is, but Wonho and my men can accompany you, make sure you're safe when you're out."

Of course, she would still have company, of course she'll still be watched. But she had to get out, she had to meet Mingyu somehow, tell him everything she found out so far.

"And when will I be able to go back home?" She added. "My home."

Changkyun took a deep breath. "Soon. I admit we haven't made much, actually, any progress on finding those who are after you but hopefully....soon."

"Well I can't stay here forever. My suspension ends in less than 2 weeks, I need to be back at work, back at home."

"You may return whenever you wish Ms. Baek. Today, tomorrow or in 2 weeks. I can arrange for your protection wherever you choose to be." His gaze pierced her. "I meant it when I said I'll look out for you."

Why why why Changkyun?

Na bi wanted to ask him, she wanted to ask him so much more but there was something about the silence that fell between them that didn't allow her to talk. She...liked it. She had often craved for a silence this comfortable and warm and to find it here was.....terrifying.

It persisted till the fire finally burnt out, submerging them in the darkness of the evening, dimly lit by the swarms of fireflies. Changkyun finally got up, brushing off the dried twigs and leaves off his pants, as Na bi struggled to do the same with her foot fast asleep. Laughing at her stumbling movements, he walked up and pulled her onto her feet, her hands flying to find their place against his chest, face inches away from his.

You could put her at gunpoint but it was moments like this that Na bi dreaded more. Moments where she was so physically close to him that her defences, her inhibitions, everything crumbled down, overwhelmed by the desire to just feel him against her, just once.

But then Ana's image flashed in her head. Her lying sprawled on a forest floor much like this, all that blood.... this was sick. This man was a murderer, this man killed her friend, yet she... she couldn't do this. She shouldn't do this.

Before she could separate herself from him, it was Changkyun who pulled away, not meeting her eye.

"The temperature tends to drop fast around here after sunset. We should head back." And with that he walked away, leaving her to follow him, perplexed by his behaviour as always.

My clothes are all here. All that blue miserableness in the closet is gone, Changkyun arranged for my own clothes to be brought from home. I showered for longer than usual today. I don't know, I just felt strangely dirty.

Then I had dinner with him again. Mrs. Lee was the only one who spoke the whole time though. I couldn't find any words to say to him, he didn't seem to have any either. After dinner he informed me that Wonho will take me wherever I want to go tomorrow.... I need to figure out how to meet Mingyu. The map isn't fully done but I need to tell him whatever I know and to give him...

Na bi looked up from her diary at the gun on the table.

She found it, in the pile of clothes Changkyun had discarded before he jumped into the waters. She'd recognise it anywhere - it was the same one he had on him the night he came to her house. The same one who's bullets implicated her in this mission with the NIH. Perhaps the same one that committed many crimes.

She just needed to get it to Mingyu somehow. She would've given it to him too. If only he didn't let slip the truth. If only Na bi didn't find out what was really going on....

#changkyun series #changkyun smut #changkyun angst #mingyu series #mingyu smut #mingyu angst #monsta x series #monsta x smut #monsta x angst #changkyun #im chankgyun #monsta x changkyun #monsta x #kim mingyu #seventeen Mingyu #mingyu #seventeen series

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biffhofosho · 7 months

Text

Le Cirque du Fantasme | Part One

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Smut, natch

Word Count: 12.2k

Pairing: Jooheon/Changkyun/Minhyuk x OC

Synopsis: Step right up! Step right up! Come one, come all to a celebration of the macabre, the daring, the enticing, and the beautiful. Inside this tent is another world—one that will challenge your senses as much as your soul. Nowhere else on Earth can you experience such an awakening. Just take caution—once you are awake, you’ll find it hard to ever go back to sleep.

The Vibe: Third person (as always), fall fog, small town, lost and found, night circus, inhumans, the seen and the unseen (heh), everything fantastical and provoking, wonderstruck OC, questioning reality, copious amounts of worldbuilding leads to copious amounts of smut, foursome, suspension, light bondage/shibari-adjacent, temperature play like woah, sexual oneupsmanship lol, acrobatic sex yw

A/N: Literally the second the opening bars hit on “Daydream,” I knew I was going to write an October fic to it. Not only that, I knew exactly what it called for.

I had originally intended to publish multiple October fics, same as last year, but since I boned myself over with my earlier writing hiatus, the least I can do is give you a twoshot. This is my love song to my readers who love worldbuilding as much as I do. I didn’t try to rein in the muse this time, so hopefully you disappear into another reality entirely with me. Also—

Since it’s October, when we do get to the smut, I, um, went slightly more deviant than usual ahahaha. .-.

Cvr | 01 | 02 | 03

“Oh, no.”

Mariam is aware that, all things considered, she is under-reacting.

She is lost when there is no reason for her to be lost.

Only minutes ago, she was walking home from her late shift at the diner, and now she is wandering through fog as thick as stuffing and woods where there should be sidewalk. It’s nighttime, but it’s doubtful that even in daylight things would change. Even with the pale moon, she can neither see where she has come from nor where she is headed.

The fog has muffled every sound like a pair of noise-canceling headphones. She can hear only the crunch of dry leaves under her boots. And, yeah, it’s late, but where’s the traffic? She always passes a few cars on the road. She realizes that is exceptionally weird, but there’s nothing to do but move forward. Carmel isn’t very big; she’s bound to wander into one of the old cemeteries any moment, and then she’ll know she’s close to her apartment.

Still, the woods are a little concerning. Town might be tiny, but if she’s somehow wandered into the woods around Ninham Mountain, Mariam could be lost for hours. The state forest is huge and full of lakes, and she is definitely not on any sort of trail at the moment.

Slowly, her usual cavalier attitude wears thin. It’s getting cold. The chill of autumn bites at her through her flannel, and she withdraws her fingers into her sleeves before they can chap. The further she walks into the fog without a guidepost, the more nervous she gets.

“Idiot!” she curses at herself.

Suddenly, it dawns on Mariam to check her phone. She fishes it out of her bag to find she’s been walking for ten minutes, which is her usual walk home, but she can’t see a single building let alone a sidewalk. Foolish as it is, she decides to map her route, but something much more alarming happens.

No signal.

She cannot call. She cannot text. She cannot even access her GPS.

The little marker on the map has her floating in a blob of gray, which is ironic considering she is unmoored in a cottony swab of nothingness.

“Oh, no.”

This time, at least, Mariam is painfully aware that her reaction is right on point.

She keeps her phone in hand now in the hope of catching a wisp of signal. She doesn’t feel like she’s walking up hill—she doesn’t feel like she’s moving at all—but in the hopes that she is, maybe she’ll pick up the cell tower. Realistically, she can’t have gotten that lost in ten minutes.

Her ears perk. She hears something other than her own feet, and she stops to make sure she isn’t hallucinating it.

Nope, that’s music all right. It’s just really, really weird music. Like someone’s playing organ music, but it’s definitely not from the Baptist church. It’s too… whimsical?

Mariam cocks her head. It reminds her of something. She can’t remember what, but something from her childhood, she’s sure.

With no other options, she walks toward it. At least she’ll find one other human out here who can give her some directions.

She turns on her flashlight, but it just rebounds off the fog and blinds her. Mariam stumbles against a tree and waits for the flood of brilliance to wash from behind her eyes. When she opens them again, the fog has miraculously thinned.

She’s definitely in the woods, not one of the little town parks or someone’s backyard but somewhere wild and unmanicured. The trees are spindly but thick, almost claustrophobic. There’s still no sign of a trail, and yet it seems like she’s on one. In fact, she can see it laid out before her, free of brambles and thickets and fallen trees. The fog is thinner there, too, though all along the sides of her, it’s as dense as cinder block.

The only thing that makes sense is following it, so Mariam does, and as she walks, the music gets louder. It also becomes more familiar. Maybe it’s because she’s lost, but something about it is so inviting. If notes can be colorful, these are positively flamboyant. She finds herself smiling in the fog.

The trail-not-trail bends and when she rounds a big boulder, she sees it.

There, in a glade cloistered by a lush canopy of fiery red maples, squats an enormous circus tent replete with a black flag snapping in a breeze that she can’t feel. The tent is striped white and black, high contrast even in the dark. There’s a long entrance tunnel, and at its maw is a ticket window lined with warm white lights. It glows like a lighthouse, and Mariam finds herself drawn into its harbors.

There’s a man in the window. He’s the most intense blend of handsome and cute she has ever seen. If she looks at him from one side, his eyes are thin and sharp, and they cut through her like razors, but if she looks at him from the other, his dimples cup his playful mouth as though they can barely contain his inner vibrance. His hair is darker than the night itself, making his skin look white as starlight by comparison, but the booth lighting frames his head like a halo. He’s an impossible mix of everything all at once, and she has never seen his equal.

Mariam steps to the window with an overwhelming sense of intimidation.

“Welcome, fair lady,” he says. His voice is potent. He says each word with a confidence that she has never felt in her whole life even at her best, and she finds herself captivated in the span of five syllables. His eyes dance as he studies her. “You’re just in time.”

“For what?” she asks.

“Showtime, of course. I was just about to close the ticket window, but lucky for us, I didn’t.”

It’s kind of a weird thing to say, Mariam thinks, but his unswerving confidence makes her reconsider.

“Actually, I was just looking for directions?” she says with more of a question than she intended.

“It seems to me you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

Again, his conviction makes her question hers.

“I wasn’t planning on going to a show tonight.” She fishes through her bag and finds the small roll of ones and fives from her shift. Tuesday shifts were notoriously poor payouts, but a traveling outfit this elaborate has to cost a pretty penny considering how exclusive it must be out here in the middle of nowhere. “How much? I don't have much cash on me. You take cards?”

“Those little plastic rectangles?” he replies with a flippant smile. “Pointless.”

Mariam frowns. “Then I don’t think I can afford it.”

He leans across the counter, almost through the window itself, into her personal space. Her hands fly to her chocolate locks and gather them to one side, twisting and twisting it as tightly as she feels her stomach twisting.

“Oh, admission is very reasonable,” he assures. This time when he smiles, it feels like he’s keeping a secret. He presents a golden ticket, the glossy paper winking as it turns between his well-manicured fingers. “Admission is only a dream.”

“A dream?” Mariam says skeptically.

“Just that, miss. In exchange for the best dream you’ve ever had, we will provide you with a new one. Seems like a fair trade, yes?”

“It would be if I knew what you were talking about.”

“I promise you’ll never experience anything else like this.”

Her brow furrows as she glances up at the big top. “I don’t even know what this is.”

The ticket-taker pouts, and his lush lips fatten to sumptuous thickness. “I’m afraid the show must start, miss. Do we have a deal?”

Mariam considers. This isn’t why she came—no, wait, she didn’t intend to come here at all—but she is here now, and this charming ticket monger is next to impossible to resist. What’s the harm in telling him one single dream? He doesn’t need to know about that particular dream.

And, anyway, it’s not like he’s conning her out of any money. In essence, it’s some free, entertaining shelter from a foggy night. She weighs her options and makes her decision.

“Am I supposed to, like, write it down or something?” she asks.

“Just lean in,” he instructs.

Hesitantly, Mariam tips forward over the counter, and for a brief second, his plump lips ghost along hers.

She should jerk back. She should slap him. But she does nothing but let him kiss her like the night mist. She is frozen as a current of muddy feelings spill like water from her lips. The back of her brain tickles a bit, but it’s overruled by the more pleasant tickle of his lips dusting over hers.

When he’s done, he licks his lips, which have curled into a tiger’s grin. His eyes are lively, and he’s panting lightly. He clears his throat and adjusts his hips in his pants somewhere behind the counter.

“How delicious,” he practically purrs. “I may have to keep that one for myself. I almost feel bad for taking it from you, but I promise the replacement will exceed it.”

He presents the golden ticket, and Mariam takes it. She expects it to feel like paper or maybe metal, but instead, it feels gauzy, and she can't stop rubbing her thumb over it.

“Straight through there, fair lady,” he says. “The show is about to start, and a whole new dream awaits you.”

The ticket monger holds open the black curtain, and she enters the tunnel. The moment the curtain shuts behind her, it is blacker than an abyss. The only thing she can see is a thin, shimmering line of light at the far end.

Outside, she hears the snap of the ticket booth closing, and she knows she is alone. The music is louder now, drawing her forward more powerfully than ever, and she realizes why she recognized it in the first place. It rises and falls and scampers and twirls, almost as though she can see the notes surrounding her, teasing and laughing at her. It is the song of childhood, of delight and fantasy.

It is the song of the circus.

There are smells here, too, familiar and unfamiliar. There is the buttery warmth of popcorn and, beneath it, something much more unctuous, a bit like when the cooks at the diner render the lard for the pie crusts. There's a hint of something acrid too, and it reminds her of the smell of her father's rifles.

Mariam follows the tunnel to its end, where she parts the drape only to be assaulted by the brilliant spotlights surrounding a huge red ring. There are seats seven layers high around three sides terminating at a ring entrance shuttered by another heavy curtain, but this one is three times as tall and wide as the entrance she just came through. Just surrounding the ring are four enormous tent poles soaring to the canvas above, where wires zig and zag across the arena and café lights accent each black and white stripe, softening the harsh spotlights.

The ticket-taker is there to greet her as though he has never seen her before. He beams at her, those dimples creasing his plump cheeks. Mariam approaches with her ethereal ticket in hand and starlight in her eyes.

“What’s this? A golden ticket?” says the man with a sharp eyebrow raised. “We have ourselves a VIP tonight it seems. You’re in for a truly mesmerizing experience, miss. Follow me. I will show you to your seat.”

He does not take the ticket from her after all but, instead, leads her across the ring itself toward a pair of empty seats in a box on the floor.

“VIP?” she says as she struggles to keep up with his commanding steps. His thick black boots thunk across the floor and resound under the big top. “But I didn't pay you anything for it!”

“But you did,” he insists. “The most tantalizing dream gets the VIP treatment. After all, we have to work harder to replace what we have taken.”

Mariam tries to remember the dream she’d thought about before she entered, but where her brain searches for the memory, it finds only the lingering taste of his lips, which she savors like berries ripened by the moon until they’re ready to burst. It’s a bit of a silly thought, yet dark, sweet juice coats her mouth and whets her appetite for something even darker.

They stop outside the box seats, and the dimpled man holds open the door with a question on his face. “You want VIP, don’t you?”

“I do,” she finds herself answering.

This broadens the man’s shoulders, and now he smiles so widely that those thin eyes shut under the powerful force of his bright cheeks. “Your private seats then, my fair lady.”

Mariam sits on one of the velvet-padded seats as he closes the door and offers her a sweeping bow like the showman he is. The ticket-monger-turned-usher disappears now behind the backstage curtain, and she has little doubt she will see him in the show, most likely as a clown judging from his over-the-top antics.

As she tries to relax into her seat, Mariam spares some time to look beyond the open stage and see what other lost souls have stumbled into this weird circus. She wonders if she’ll see any of her friends or coworkers in the stands.

She does not. What she finds is far more unnerving.

There are only a dozen or so other spectators in the stands. None of them sit anywhere near each other. They are spread throughout the whole tent, high and low, mostly in shadow because the spotlights are fixed downward in the ring. At first, she thinks they are strays like her, but as they wait for the show to start, Mariam begins to doubt they are even human. If she looks at any one of them head on, they look like normal people, mostly men but a few women, too, but from her periphery, she swears she sees the jaws of a wolf or the skin of a lizard or even a pair of antlers when she turns her head. Most have eyes of glinting gold exactly like those she’s seen along the road when her high beams catch just so.

And there are fangs. Fangs everywhere, some long and thin, some fat or even serrated.

One of them, a thin, hunched man with mottled scales in patches all over his body, is eating from a black and white striped carton which might usually house popcorn, but it definitely isn’t, and he isn’t eating whatever it is with his hand but with quick snaps of a lightning-fast tongue.

Mariam is growing uncomfortable again. She had thought this place might get her back home, but it has taken her somewhere far more foreign, and she’s feeling more alone than ever. She has felt different a lot in her life but never like an actual alien.

She should probably be more scared than anything, but none of these people—creatures—are looking at her. They are all looking toward the ring. Nobody speaks although she swears she hears a snort from one side of the arena that someone echoes on the other side with a series of strange clicks.

She wishes the berry-lipped man would come back and take the seat beside her. She can’t be sure he’s human now either, but she trusts his smile and his dimples, even if she shouldn’t.

Just when Mariam is ready to dart to the exit, music swells anew. It is far more powerful than the spirited diddy that lured her here. Under the big top, the organ booms and the drums thunder, and everything feels like it’s spinning like a carousel.

“Strangers! Friends! Denizens of the dark and light dwellers alike!” comes a voice of unquestionable power from somewhere backstage. As far as Mariam can tell, there is no sound system. It's just the voice of a true entertainer filling the canvas wall-to-wall. “The time has come to revel in the greatest spectacle the night has ever seen. Pretense, common sense, even the very laws of nature itself, have no place under this canopy. What you will experience tonight will challenge your very perception of reality. Nothing you have seen before tonight can prepare you for what you are about to see. At times, you may think you have wandered into a dream, but I assure you, what you are about to witness is so much more. Welcome—”

The backstage curtains sail wide with a snap and a flutter, and a man bursts through, his arms wide and his dimples shining in the spotlights.

“—to Le Cirque du Fantasme!”

The audience applauds, rather lackluster Mariam thinks for the passion of such a lofty introduction, so she tries to clap just a little louder than everyone else. After all, she is getting the VIP treatment, so she should return the favor.

The man rises from a bow that completely folds him in half, and she shakes her head in awe. She had expected—hoped—to see him again, but she is not prepared for the striking figure the former usher cuts in his crimson crushed velvet coat. The tails swish at the back of his knees as he laps the ring. Diamond buttons splinter in the light as does the sweat already beading at his brow.

“I am Jooheon, your ringmaster, but I am also your guide. For every wonder you experience tonight, I will be by your side to remind you that what you are witnessing is indeed real. Together, we will discover there is magic left in the world if you know just where to look.”

He stops in front of the VIP box and tips his head with a smile just for Mariam, and then he is gone.

Back in the center of the ring, Jooheon enumerates the many wonders on their horizon, impossible, tantalizing things that cannot be real, yet the more he promises, the more she believes him. Thanks to this man’s unprecedented versatility, she is also starting to believe this is a one-man circus. Maybe he will perform all of the spectacular acts he’s teasing.

But Jooheon confounds her again. With a dramatic swoop of his hand, he draws the audience’s eyes to the massive curtains at the rear of the tent, and slowly, the heavy fabric parts by unseen hands.

Mariam’s seat trembles. At first, she thinks she’s imagining it, caught up in the ringmaster’s passion, but then it trembles again and again, and she realizes they’re tremors.

No. Footfalls.

The arena is dead silent.

Thwomp. Thwomp. Thwomp.

The face appears first in shadow—a great black snout snuffling so strongly that the curtains puff. Even through the veil of backstage, the eyes are clear and bright, an otherworldly metallic green that flash the same sort of gold that some of the audience members possess.

Another footfall, and the muzzle appears, ornamented with thick black lips fringed by snow white and overhung by two bone-shattering fangs as long as her hand.

Since Mariam sits off to the side, the eyes do not seem to perceive her, yet she tucks her legs up against herself and ducks her head to peer from behind her knees as the rest of the creature emerges to fill the ring.

It’s a wolf—if one can call it that. It’s nearly twice the height of a horse and just as broad. Its fur is white all over save for the silver tips to each hair that make it sparkle in the spotlight. Its chunky claws click on the ring floor as it shuffles into position.

Mariam relaxes now. Maybe it’s because Jooheon is standing there unbothered by its haunches or maybe it’s because its face is rather doglike despite its other ferocious features or maybe it’s the fact that its tail is wagging, but most likely, it’s because a man sits astride its great shoulders, scratching its fluffy ears.

“Friends, behold!” trumpets Jooheon. “Our Amorak and our beastmaster, Shownu! Together, they will take us on a journey through the world of creatures long considered too elusive or vicious to be tamed. Many have been laughed at for believing the campfire tales or legends of our ancestors, but for Shownu, these legends are not legends at all but friends and allies, and now, they will be yours, too.”

The Amorak sits down, and Shownu releases its mane to slide down its back like a child on a playground. The beastmaster lands easily and pats the great wolf’s backside. With a snap of the man’s fingers, the Amorak stands and side-steps as delicately as a pony so that even a man as imposing and broad-chested as the beastmaster stands beneath the animal, the man’s head at its elbow.

From the shadows beneath, Shownu whistles, and the wolf spins so its back legs face the audience. Another whistle, this one like a see-saw, and the creature wags its tail in huge, careful strokes that send its long fur sweeping the faces of the audience members brave enough to sit in the first couple rows. Laughter rings out. Mariam finds she is laughing, too, and perhaps even a little envious.

As if he knows this, Jooheon saunters over to the VIP box and says, “Fair lady, would you please stand?”

“What?” she whispers hoarsely.

“Now is better,” he teases with his dimples.

The Amorak shifts, and now there is no doubt it perceives her. The beastmaster steps out from the belly of the beast and walks toward her. Mariam shoots up from her seat, less out of fear of the creature than out of respect for its master.

Shownu stands opposite Jooheon at the box and centers his attention on the VIP. There is a gentleness in his face that she could never have anticipated considering his ominous moniker, but Shownu smiles at her very differently than Jooheon ever has. His lips do not part but, instead, sit neatly atop each other in a way that raises his cheeks like two little fresh-baked rolls.

“Hold out your hand, palm up,” the beastmaster instructs in a gruff but inviting voice.

Mariam does so hesitantly, and when her arm is fully extended, the Amorak raises its paw, too, and places it light as a feather in hers. It’s so huge that only a portion of a single blazing paw pad fills her palm. Its long feathery fur tickles her skin, and she finds herself giggling. The two men exchange smiles, and the Amorak lowers its head. It snorts once, and her long hair sails behind her. She laughs harder now, and the beast and the beastmaster withdraw to the heart of the ring again, her body vibrating both from the experience and the tremors of footfalls.

Mariam sits back down, cradling her hand to her chest with a slack-jawed smile on her face.

The duo performs a few other stunts—the Amorak stands on his back legs and wobbles in the circle, as does Shownu, which has the audience cackling, and then it howls, nearly blowing the roof off the circus tent, which sends the audience cowering—before the wolf takes a seat and Shownu takes a post at the curtain.

Another man, this one even broader and more muscular than Shownu, comes out just long enough to shepherd in two sweet-faced animals before he disappears into the back. At first, Mariam thinks they are fawns, but then she sees the tawny wings folded at their backs.

Jooheon introduces these as perytons, not that that means anything to her, but the antlered person she’d caught sight of earlier in the stands cheers and stamps so enthusiastically that the ringmaster practically glows with the praise.

Shownu gets the energetic little critters to perform a choregraphed dance, which would be cute enough, but then they take to the sky, and whimsy becomes awe. The perytons glide and weave just like birds though they snort and snuffle like deer. Mariam is so lost in the spectacle that she barely catches Jooheon’s note that their sweet faces conceal true power, and no sooner does he say this then one of the little deer-birds divebombs the spectator with the popcorn container and, with taloned back legs instead of its hooved front ones, grabs a hunk of what looks like entrails and lobs it back like a baseball to its friend. The other peryton snaps it out of mid-air to devour it, and the sight of a sweet little fawn face gobbling intestines is not something Mariam imagines she will ever forget. The Amorak growls, and the two mischievous babies promptly land, bleating like kids laughing at their father.

After that, Shownu spreads his arms out wide and lifts his powerful chest, and the perytons follow suit, their hawk-like wings fanned out, every feather articulated. There’s no denying the stir in Mariam’s belly as she studies the beastmaster commanding his beasts, for they follow his every command unquestioningly.

The perytons perform a few more aerial tricks of agility with a ball and a ribbon, and when they are done, the buff shepherd from earlier fetches them to the back and then returns, this time dropping a trail of meat into the ring.

From the back inches a gigantic pink blob. The front end is nothing but a gaping maw lined with hundreds of wicked teeth, and… that’s it—it’s nothing but pinkness and horrifying teeth. Again, Mariam finds herself tucking her feet up onto her chair as though she’s afraid it will break into the box and mow her clean off at the knees.

Jooheon explains this is a Mongolian Death Worm, eyeless and earless but hardly helpless. The crowd is instructed to keep quiet since it hunts by vibration, but Mariam quickly sees that is only partly true when the worm reaches Shownu, and the beastmaster stoops down to pat the top of its head while two big nostrils open for a long sniff.

The creature is longer than her father's car and the color of exposed muscle. Its segments undulate when it moves as well as when it eats, which is an awful lot like Taz from the Looney Tunes, she thinks. It should be grotesque, but Mariam can't help but find it adorable as the monster looks up at its master and seems to smile even without eyes and lips.

Through a series of stamps and claps of his hands against the floor, Shownu communicates with the beast. It rolls up and lunges on command, jawless mouth snapping. It roars with the power and ferocity of a sandstorm, and her blood curdles. Then, as if to rub its stubby pink nose in the face of its moniker, the worm curls into a ball that Shownu scoops up in his sturdy hands and lobs straight into the air for his Amorak to catch in its mouth. Finally, the big wolf drops it to the ground, and the giant wad of chewed bubble gum unspools and jiggles itself dry to the squeal of the few audience members who sat too close to the action and got sprayed with giant dog saliva.

As the laughter dies down, however, the ringmaster reminds everyone not so subtly that this is a death worm. To prove that point, Shownu brings out a giant rod with a metal ball on the end and taps the top of the worm's head. It growls—a sound that trembles in the bones more than in the ears, a bit like a building earthquake or an oncoming train—and rears up, and when it does, it puffs out almost twice its width. Fantastic crackles of lightning discharge from its head and arc into the ball at the end of the rod. They snap and pop and sizzle in yellow so brilliant, Mariam has to close her eyes most of the way so she doesn’t go blind.

When at last the worm deflates, panting in the ring, the beastmaster touches the tip of the rod to the metal pole supporting the tent, and a sonic boom shivers the canvas on its rails. The residual electricity stands up every hair on Mariam's arms and, unfortunately, most of her head, too, which she is quick to smooth down. Shownu pats the worm on the head again, and the chubby blob slinks off behind the buff shepherd, rather satisfied for a death worm, she thinks.

After a hearty round of applause, the beastmaster and the Amorak both bow to the audience, and Shownu takes the opportunity to leap between the giant wolf’s shoulder blades. When it rises again, the man sits astride with a nod for the crowd and one specifically for Mariam, and he looks as much like a cowboy on a horse as he does a man on a mythological creature.

Jooheon takes center stage again, and she is struck by just how much the man seems to belong in the spotlight. With a toothy grin, he says, “Shownu, everyone! Please let him hear how much you loved his menagerie of talented friends.”

Applause and cheers ring out, and Mariam joins in extra loudly since she’s still feeling electrified by the death worm.

“For our next act, I invite you to feast your eyes on a man with the strength of a beast, the body of a god, and the face of an angel. But it isn’t just strength he brings to the table, no, no, no, but agility. Straight from the realm of the Fair Folk, prepare to delight in the beautiful brute force and precision artistry of our resident fae, Wonho!”

The ringmaster steps to the edge of the ring as the former shepherd returns to center stage, padding out in bare feet unaccompanied. He is massive, with enormous shoulders corded with muscle protruding from his tank top. Mariam wonders how it doesn’t burst at the seams considering how the rest of his chest bulges against the fabric, but maybe that’s just another part of the circus magic or it’s simply painted on. It's not much different with his pants. The way the fabric stretches around his tree trunk thighs is perhaps even more magical, and she knows she should probably look away, but how can she when it seems as though the man was made specifically to ogle.

His white hair has the faintest hint of lilac, and like the Amorak fur, there’s a metallic glint to it, but it’s nothing to the glint in his emerald eyes. Even from ringside, they are piercing, so green that they seem lit by some internal flame, and when they fall to her, Mariam exhales so sharply that she realizes she’s been holding her breath since he strolled in.

He is carrying something in his enormous hands. It looks like a giant crystal cube, and it warps and shatters the light like a disco ball.

Wonho smiles. It’s as dazzling as Jooheon’s, all teeth but no dimples, and it accentuates just how delicate he is despite his big body. His ears stick out like little butterfly wings, but just before she can be spirited away by such cuteness, he shucks the tank top over his head, and it’s not just the intimidating display of muscle that catches her off-guard—it’s the actual set of wings at his back.

They unfurl, thin and translucent as stained glass, framed in by silver rims as fragile as the mint green panes inside. She thinks there's no way that something so ethereal could possibly be functional, but, as if to prove her wrong, Wonho alights before her eyes toward a crow's nest just above the ring. The wings make a rustling sound, like a stack of papers blown apart at an open window. They beat nearly as fast as a bumblebee’s, and when he pivots in the air, the breeze they make ruffles Mariam’s hair.

He lands on the platform there and puts down the block in his hand. He wipes his hands on his pants and then rubs them together before waving at each group of the audience. To Mariam, he adds a bow.

When he's ready, he takes several deep breaths, that gargantuan chest ballooning with every one. He picks up the block and splays his hands on either side of it, and then she hears the cracking. It sounds like ice when she pours soda over it at the diner, pops and crackles and pings.

His biceps strain and his forearms flex, and the cracking gets louder and louder and louder. Huge fissures zigzag across the cube until there's an explosion. The cube is powder now, piles in his hands and at his feet. Before anyone even has a chance to applaud, the strongman pivots and flaps his wings, and now, it's snowing under the tent. Like an oscillating fan, he swivels from side to side, and Mariam feels the kiss of snowflakes on her cheeks and lashes. It melts instantly, but its dewy memory sends a smile of pure marvel to her face.

Instead of flying down from his perch, Wonho leaps and lands on his feet with a thud so fast that the snow is still falling like glitter on his fair skin. He doesn't bother to brush it off but lets it melt to a sparkly finish that turns him into living art.

He spends a few minutes lifting impossibly heavy objects and then taking to the air with them as though they are beach balls and not anvils and boulders and other ridiculous things. With his hands, he twists pipes into shapes like balloon animals and ties a knot—out of rebar—with his feet.

Another man emerges from the back then, this one long and thin like taffy freshly pulled, but when he steps into the ruthless lighting, she sees his fair skin is covered in delicate iridescent scales. He brings a stool, a mirror, a bow and arrow, and a bullseye. The tall man configures everything carefully while Wonho makes faces at his coworker in the mirror, and Mariam realizes the strongman is just as much a clown as anything.

When everything is ready, the tall man steps back. Wonho does a handstand on the stool, his back to the bullseye and his eyes on the mirror opposite it.

There’s something about the way his muscles lengthen as he contorts that has Mariam licking her lips. The twitches in his forearms as he adjusts, the flare of his ribs under that dewy skin, that illicit bulge urging against the constraints of his lycra pants—Wonho is truly an astonishing sight, and there’s a pang in her heart when she realizes how much of the world will never know his beauty and grace.

When he’s balanced just so, muscles trembling and abdominals squeezing with breath and stability, the other man situates the bow with the arrow already nocked between Wonho’s nimble feet.

The strongman shuffles his hands on the stool seat and achingly slowly bends his legs, arching his chest as a counterbalance. When the bow and arrow are lined up with the bullseye, Wonho grips the bowstring and pulls it taut.

Mariam holds her breath.

Wonho holds his.

The arrow flies.

Straight into the red bullseye.

The small crowd breaks out into uproarious applause, and she finds herself standing as she claps. Wonho bows to them all as the tall man clears out the equipment, and just as the strongman finishes his rounds, the Amorak comes bounding back in.

The audience recoils at the sudden thunderous intrusion, especially since the great beast is growling, but Wonho is unbothered, and only then does Mariam realize there’s a humongous rope lodged in its great teeth. The strongman pats the wolf’s head before he snatches the free end of the rope and shakes the Amorak back and forth. The growling turns to snarls.

Wonho takes to the air, yanking and pulling, those fragile wings beating more ferociously than the snarls sound. The Amorak digs in its claws and tries to pull back, but with a cheeky wave to the crowd, the white-haired fae drags the wolf back through the curtain as though the creature ten times his size is nothing but a tiny terrier.

The room is speechless, which Jooheon is only too happy to discover.

The ringmaster slides right back into the spotlight and trumpets, “Don’t forget to let Wonho hear it if you were impressed.”

Of course, the small crowd erupts, Mariam chief among them. She can’t escape the image of those pretty wings contrasting rock-hard muscle, the kiss of ice crystals melting on ivory skin.

It’s impossible. It’s unbelievable. She is shaken to her very core.

“We’re not done yet, folks,” Jooheon promises as he cuts through her existential crisis. “Our next performer is just as sure to wow you as much with his incredible dexterity as his unparalleled visuals. I personally guarantee you have never before seen anything like his act let alone the performer himself. He has come up from the darkest depths of the sea to dazzle and delight you with wonderous abilities only a one-of-a-kind hybrid like himself can conjure.

“During portions of the show, you may feel tempted to enter the ring. For your safety as well as the safety of our performer, I ask that you please use the seatbelts provided at your seat before we begin.”

Mariam looks down and finds that there is indeed a belt dangling from her chair, which seems utterly ridiculous at first, but as she recalls the incredible things she’s just witnessed, she secures it around her waist. Only a moment later, as the click of buckles ding around the tent, Jooheon walks by with a gentle smile, though his eyes are on her secured seatbelt.

He does the same throughout the rest of the crowd while two new men, one with red hair and one with blue, emerge with Wonho from the back and lift a large wooden cover from the center of the ring to reveal a shallow pool of water. They roll the cover off to the side into a metal corral and then linger at the lip of the ring along with Shownu and the man with the scales, who takes up his station closest to Mariam’s booth. Each man turns his back to the stage to watch the crowd instead, and when the man with the scales catches her gaze, the iridescence shimmers to the sweetest pink before it goes white as a sheet.

She has only a moment to reflect on the tall man’s otherworldly elegance before Jooheon clears his throat.

“Introducing: the one, the only, the luminescent Kihyun!”

The lights dim and the gentle circus music that always swells between acts dies entirely. Each of the last two performances had music, but now, it is so quiet, all she can hear is the lapping of the pool.

It is almost pitch black, though there is just enough light to see a figure emerge from behind the curtain.

He is compact and wiry. His bare feet pad across the ring and dip into the pool with the gentlest of splashes. He wades into the center, the water rising no higher than mid-shin, and then he opens his eyes.

Mariam had assumed it was just too dark to see his eyes, but now that they are open, she understands. He’s special.

They shimmer with the same eerie softness of a glow-in-the-dark toy. They don’t have the sharpness of oncoming headlights which force the eyes away, but instead, they draw her in. They beckon. She imagines seeing them looking down at her in the dark of a bedchamber, but she shakes the thoughts away.

He stoops and rifles beneath the water and soon comes up with a handful of rings. One by one, he squeezes them, and suddenly, they glow, too. He drops four chartreuse rings back below the water to glow at his feet but holds on to five others, though each of those are different colors.

Slowly, Mariam realizes it’s not just Kihyun’s eyes or the rings that glow. Pinpricks of light stud his body like a runway, and she can see now that, though he has arms and legs like a man, he is different—he is more. His skin is also unique. Though she can’t be sure of the exact colors, his front is definitely lighter than his back.

He wears a skintight outfit, something streamlined like a full-body swimsuit though its hard to be sure in the wan light, but now, she can clearly see the outline of sharp, articulated fins both on his forearms and his back.

Kihyun divides the rings in his hands and begins to toss them in the air until a rainbow of light streaks through the darkness. He builds speed until it seems that he’s not just juggling rings but bending light all together.

Once he’s captivated the crowd, he begins to sing. It’s not like anything Mariam has ever heard. Her heart slows. Her mind muddles. She forgets things beyond the show of light and the swirl of the melody around her. Kihyun bend a series of “oohs” and “ahs” of varying textures and power and lengths just as he bends the light—masterfully.

He spins. He pivots. He catches behind his back. Through it all, he sings.

Mariam realizes vaguely that her hips hurt where something presses unfairly against her. It’s keeping her from the ring. It’s keeping her from Kihyun. If she could tear her eyes from him, she could figure it out, but she can’t risk a second away from his incandescent frame.

The music stops, and Mariam stops, too, waiting for the next dulcet note. Abruptly, the juggler gathers all but one the rainbow rings in one hand and crouches down to the water.

He rubs the pink ring along the surface in a figure eight, and when he lifts it, it is dripping loudly in the stone silent room. He brings it up to his face, and Mariam can finally see his features clearly—his angular jaw, his strong cheekbones, his sharp eyebrows. Even the bow on his elegant lips is pointed.

He puckers those dangerous lips and blows into the center of the ring. Just like a kid’s wand, a bubble appears, but Kihyun does not easily run out of breath and the bubble stays flexible. By the time he is done, the bubble is almost as tall as he is. With a swift motion, he flicks the ring inside the bubble, and it seals behind it. The surface warbles with the pink light within, and with another gust from his lips, it sails to the ceiling above Jooheon and hangs obediently like a balloon tied off. He repeats the process with the remaining four rings until there is a watery chandelier illuminating the whole room. Mariam catches a glimpse of shimmering aqua on her own skin, hears the burble of the impossibly churning water sphere overhead, but she can't bring herself to look up—only ahead.

Kihyun stoops and scoops a cupful of water, which he then pours into his mouth. At first, she assumes it’s just a necessary part of being whatever it is he is, but then he spits a thin jet of the water into the air, only when he does, it’s colored with the same eerie blue-white light that dots his body. The stream wanes, but he replenishes it with another long draft from the cup, this time arcing the glowing water like a hula hoop as he spins. On the last drink, he blows a trio of bubbles, these ones as small as his fist but infused with the otherworldly luster. He does not pop them but casts them gingerly just above his head where they hang like a halo.

Finally, he fishes back through the water again, and this time, he brings up five already-glowing balls. These, like the rings, are clearly a prop, though half of Mariam wonders if they’re actually shimmering deep sea pearls.

Kihyun starts juggling these the same way he did the rings, establishing a familiar rhythm before picking up speed until he adds a new layer. He closes those firefly eyes and trusts in whatever senses he has left to keep the balls aloft.

Above him, the little bubble crown illuminates his wet black hair, which undulates back from his face as though caught in an unseen current. It is as mesmerizing as the blender-like rhythm the balls seem to be caught in between his dexterous hands.

Sing.

Please sing.

Please.

Mariam thinks she’s said that in her head, but the whispers hit her ear, and she realizes she hasn’t.

The man with the scales encroaches at the edge of her vision, and it’s a crude reminder that there are others in the room beside the luminescent Kihyun.

As though he’s heard her, the juggler opens that exceptional mouth, and more notes pour out, and though there’s no eerie blue light to accompany them, they’re brilliant all the same. Kihyun has a way of singing that sounds as though they’re all underwater.

None of the balls waver even for a second. His unswerving confidence that he will never let them drop is almost as mesmerizing as his unearthly voice.

Again, Mariam feels that pressure across her hips, and it’s becoming more insistent by the second.

She should be in the ring by now. She needs to be. She might go insane if she’s not.

A whistle pierces the air, and Kihyun stops singing. The balls fall together in a discordant splash, and quick as the death worm’s lightning, the juggler raises his arm, forearms out and fins in a full mast. From the tips of those articulations, he shoots something too small to see in the dim light though Mariam hears the little pew-pew-pew-pew-pew as he spins in the pool.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Each massive glowing bubble explodes overhead while the rings inside fall into the hands of his fellow performers and the water rains in a much-needed cold shower over the audience. Mariam lets out a squeal as she is drenched and gulping for air against the wet chill. Goosebumps dimple her from head to toe, and she folds her arms over her chest to generate fresh heat.

The crowd is too stunned to applaud, but Kihyun doesn’t wait for it either. He exits the pool, bows to the stands, and then pads off to the back while the other performers begin the cleanup. Meanwhile, Wonho takes to the sky to buzz over the handful of audience members one by one, spinning around so his wings beat like a fan over them. He reaches Mariam last, and when he blasts her with air, she yelps and shivers, but in short order, she is dry and happy again in her flannel. He tips his impish head to her and buzzes back to help the others with the last of the preparation, and soon the ring is back as it was.

Now dry and sober, the audience remembers itself, and together, they erupt into riotous applause. Mariam tries to stand for an ovation, but then she remembers the seatbelt, and as soon as she unbuckles it, it’s like a weight is off her lap, and suddenly, it doesn’t seem so silly.

“Let him know, let him know!” cheers Jooheon as he takes center stage again. “You’ll never see another one like Kihyun, folks.”

Of that, Mariam is certain. She claps fiercer than ever even as her cheeks color at the memory of his voice.

“I’m sorry to tell you we have but two acts to go,” Jooheon laments, and Mariam laments with him. She feels the dread even before he says it. But he brightens immediately and surges forth in a sweeping circle around the room. “But the good news is they will both delight, confound, and astound you.

“First up, from far across the seas, on an untamed mountain, comes a beautiful and elusive man who both defies your notice but also demands it. Don’t let the sweet face fool you, he is wild and unpredictable and harbors a true hunger for adventure. Prepare to thrill as he risks life and limb to take you to the edge like never before! I present to you… Hyungwon!”

The spotlight centers in the ring, but no one is there and no one emerges from the back either.

“Hyungwon!” Jooheon repeats just as dramatically, but no one appears. Eyes start darting around the room, so, too, do whispers break out. The man in the crimson coat looks back to the entrance. “Hyungwon?”

The ringmaster looks a little nervous, those robust lips pulled tight as he paces the ring edge. He clears his throat.

“My apologies, esteemed guests. Hyungwon is supposed to be nocturnal, but sometimes he drifts off. Just a minute, and we'll get on with the show.”

Mariam sees Wonho darting back behind the curtains while, in the deep shadows at the edge of the ring, she spies the mysterious Kihyun with his arms stacked over his chest as he shakes his head. It's just starting to get uncomfortable, and they're all at the edge of their seats.

“Where is he?” Mariam whispers.

“Boo,” comes a totally different whisper along with a puff of hot breath beside her ear.

Mariam yells and instantly clamps her hand over her mouth as she jukes to the side in time to catch the luminous round face of the man with the scales.

All eyes as well as a spotlight turn to the VIP box to find Hyungwon with this face beside hers, flaunting a toothy grin and cheeks like doorbells begging to be pressed. His laugh is airy and infectious, childlike even, and though he has startled a year of her life from her, Mariam is laughing, too, even as her hand clutches her heart in hopes of slowing it.

How long had he been there without her knowing?

As her pulse slows, she closes her eyes, and when she opens them, he is nowhere to be seen.

Mariam swivels around like a dope, but the new performer has vanished. A few other crowd members laugh, but the patchy lizard man with the long tongue is outright cackling and applauding louder than anyone as though he understands the joke better than the rest of them can.

Jooheon, Wonho, and Kihyun are all laughing, too, so Mariam has to assume this is all part of the man's grand entrance.

And grand it is! Now when the spotlight centers in the ring, Hyungwon strolls into it. He is sporting a pair of leather pants but nothing else, not even shoes, and she can see it's not just his hands and neck and face covered in those scales but his whole body. Like the rest of his features, they are delicate and captivating, almost like glitter sewn directly onto his skin. He throws his arms wide, and she is dazzled by more than just his unique features. He is lean and sinewy with a tiny waist and shoulders as broad as a door.

Colors and shapes dance across his scales in seemingly impossible patterns; even his hair shifts like fiber optics. She recognizes many of the patterns: the tent stripes or the ring floor or the Amorak’s fur; for a moment, he even glows like Kihyun’s strange luminescence. His visual display morphs into a splash of crimson in the exact shape and design of the ringmaster’s coat, which makes Jooheon beam and clap enthusiastically. Hyungwon concludes with the most shocking display of all—he nearly disappears from plain sight by copying the patterns of the backgrounds on all sides.

But then something occurs to Mariam. Hyungwon is almost totally invisible thanks to his camouflage, but the leather cannot follow suit so it looks like a pair of pants floating in the middle of the ring. When he’d been right beside her though, there’d been nothing—not even pants. Shock and more than a little embarrassment grip her body, and she swears the performer knows because he turns to her right then with a very troublesome smile.

Mariam has been so busy being awestruck by their performances that it hasn’t occurred to her to consider how much of them is human when so many parts of them clearly are not. But now the rabbit is out of the hat and she's chasing helplessly after it, wondering what kind of lovers such spectacular beings would be. That's not a thing she should be thinking about looking at a chameleon man, especially because she is a conservative person—she has been her whole life. But sometimes she has thoughts… fantasies. Sometimes she has unusual dreams. There was one in particular she’s often thought of since, in her moments of weakness, but what was it again?

She's so far gone in the illicit thoughts that she nearly falls out of her seat when a motorcycle above her roars. She looks up, and there is Hyungwon at the peak of tent on a platform much higher than the one Wonho had risked. She doesn’t remember the motorcycle there, but it must have been. It sits anchored at the edge of the platform. It has no tires, just rims resting on top of a wire, and though there is a ring securing the machine to the wire, it won’t keep it upright. Beneath it is a perch as a counterbalance, and, of all things, one of the perytons sits on it. Its clawed back feet cling like a bird on a wire.

Hyungwon sits astride the motorcycle, now clad in a black leather vest and a pair of boots. As a whimsical note, some of the scales across his face have blackened into a sunglasses shape. He isn’t tethered to anything, and Mariam can see between his slight twitches and the peryton’s, they are working together to keep themselves upright on the wire.

The engine revs again, and Jooheon raises his hands to incite the crowd. Everyone whoops and cheers, including Mariam, and then Hyungwon zooms ahead.

The bike zips up the slight incline to the other end, where he lets off the gas, and the unlikely pair drifts backwards smooth as a sled riding down a snowy hill. Once they’re back at the bottom, Hyungwon surges ahead again, but he slows when they reach the middle of the line. He cuts the engine, and instead, the room fills with the ping-ping of the wire bobbing under the weight.

Below, the peryton wobbles and tips backwards, clinging to the rail with its claws as it hangs upside down and spreads its wings. Once it’s at full breadth, Hyungwon stands on the footpegs and slowly—tremulously, steps both feet onto the seat before propping one on the handlebars. He, too, spreads his muscled arms, and as the motorcycle glides backward down the slope, little bursts of yellow, like tiny supernovas, fire across his skin. Feathers whisper in the breeze before the crowd roars with the showcase.

Mariam’s heart is in her throat, so big she practically chokes on it. Her skin pebbles with fresh goosebumps because the pair isn’t slowing. In fact, the motorcycle is picking up speed as it glides.

Before they can crash back into the platform, Hyungwon slides back onto the seat and revs the engine again. The peryton swings back upright, and the rider tosses down some dark and messy treat to his passenger.

Mariam assumes it’s over, but then the bike sails even faster up to the peak, and this time when they brake at the top, the peryton rocks side-to-side, and just like that, the motorcycle loops like a propeller around and around the wire.

She screams. So does someone else. Both rider and passenger are completely unbothered.

They whirl backwards down the wire, and it almost makes Mariam sick to watch the spinning. Even worse, as has been happening all night, she thinks again on things she shouldn’t. She thinks on how strong his thighs have to be to hold onto that bike, and she finds herself clenching hers just as hard.

Just as they get to the platform, the peryton startles and takes flight, which immediately flips the motorcycle. Hyungwon plunges from his seat several stories above the floor. Screams ring out all around the canopy.

But not Mariam. She can’t scream. This time, she’s too paralyzed with terror.

This is it. This is going to be the show where something goes horribly, terribly wrong, and as much as she had already been changed by tonight’s performances, this will ruin her.

She feels sick.

Hyungwon’s halfway to his surefire death when the winged creature swoops down casual as can be and grabs his outstretched wrist with its back claw. He drifts like Alice falling down the rabbit hole to Wonderland onto yet another motorcycle that Mariam never even saw waiting for him in the ring.

Relief washes through her, and she realizes that over the course of however long she’s been sitting here, she has formed some kind of unnatural bond with the performers. She thinks of them not just as acrobats or athletes but as friends—or, maybe, more disturbingly, something more. Just the notion of them getting hurt tightens every muscle in her body like a winch.

But no one else seems nearly as bothered by the daring risks they’ve just witnessed. As the crowd leaps to its feet, Hyungwon waves and circles the ring on the bike a few times. With a rev of his engine and one final wheelie, he speeds to the back with the peryton in tow.

Jooheon makes his way to ring center as usual, and he’s cheering just as much as the audience. That infectious smile of his stirs the crowd as much as it stirs Mariam’s heart with gratitude.

“How about that, dear guests? I think I can boast with total confidence that that was yet another act such as you have never seen! Another round of applause for Hyungwon and Dyani. Let them hear you.”

The audience doesn’t disappoint. With each act, they’ve gotten more and more comfortable and more and more awestruck. It’s beginning to feel like an impossible ask to ever leave this big top. Yet, Jooheon’s next words send a chill through Mariam’s bones.

“As always, we close our show with the most dynamic performance of all. As you have learned by now, nothing about Le Cirque du Fantasme is traditional, so it must hold true that neither are our clowns. Not only will they take to the skies tonight, but they will take you to new heights with them. Be dazzled as fire and ice harmonize in ways you never thought possible, and, above all, expect the unexpected. Presenting The Flying Fools, Minhyuk and Changkyun!”

The ringmaster steps to the side as the final two performers enter the room.

They move in perfect unison, but that’s where the similarities end. The taller one, with hair like candle flames, presents in vivid detail. His face is shaped like a flame, too, with all the same flickering dimension and undulating contours. His skin is bright and brilliant like his smile only with a sheen to it, and when he spins in the lights, Mariam realizes it’s like a cast of gold dust upon him. She’s not sure if that’s stage makeup or if that’s just part of who he is, but considering his counterpart, it seems like the latter.

The shorter one has hair like snowflake filaments, each strand almost crystalline yet without being actually frozen. Even the cool way he strolls feels like a breeze across damp skin. Though his lines are sharp, borderline cutting, when he steps in the light, Mariam swears she can see through him. He’s sleek when he moves; every line and twitch has a purpose. It’s as though he is untethered and untouchable by everything. It’s almost as though his feet aren’t even touching the floor. She might think he’s a ghost if everyone else weren’t seeing the same thing.

With a pair of synchronized bows, the performers greet their audience silently just as the others did, saving all the talking for their ringmaster. Instead, they start their act with a series of incredible one-upsmanship. The redhead conjures fire in his palm, which the blue-haired man snuffs with a flick of his wrist. In retaliation, he then creates three snowballs of varying sizes into a very sweet but very humble snowman, and the redhead returns the favor by lobbing a fireball under his knee with the unforgiving precision of a meteor. The poor snowman explodes and melts into a puddle while the crowd chuckles.

They make faces at one another as they hurry to build their next assault. One constructs a basketball-sized snowball to the other’s fireball, and with a war cry like two brothers squaring up, they throw at each other. If either is off-target, Mariam will be buried in snow and the other side of the ring will be engulfed in flame, but their aim is true, and the two balls collide with a hiss like punching a hill of sand.

As they mock-squabble, a bar lowers from the ceiling, one side featuring a ring dangling from a chain and the other side featuring willowy baby blue ribbons fluttering as they descend. The two performers continue silently bickering as the redhead climbs into his ring and takes a seat and the blue-haired man winds his foot intricately through one ribbon while he scales the silks.

Once their eyelines are even, the bar raises, and now, the two men soar over center stage a few stories up. Closer to the spotlights, the redhead glitters like a disco ball while, at precisely the right moment, the light pierces the blue-haired man, like sun through a blanket of clouds, and shines down on the ringmaster’s grin.

As the pair reach their pinnacle, they play—not just off of the instruments but each other. It’s organized chaos. The man in the ring rocks like a monkey on a swing, his feet kicking and lifting. At first, it’s art, but then it’s clear his true intent is to toy with his friend. He drops. He swings. He pushes off of his friend’s back like a swimmer off the pool wall.

While the man in the ring flips and threads through his hoop, the man in the straps flies beside him. Thanks to the push, physics draws them back together until they’re rebounding off each other like a Newton’s cradle. Both of them are light and slender, but their sinew flexes with each choreographed move.

Watching them somehow makes Mariam feel strangely feminine, which isn’t something she usually thinks much about. Between work and TV and sleep, she doesn’t spend much time on herself. Carmel is a hamlet, too far removed from the City for the Big Apple to tempt her and too insular to attract outsiders except for the accidental stranger passing through. She doesn’t have to doll herself up because there’s no one in town left to impress, but as the dexterous duo wheels above to a chorus of ruffling silk and clanking chains, she feels soft, pliable even. She wishes she’d had time to change out of her shift clothes or apply some lip gloss. Watching them perform makes her yearn to impress them the way they’ve all impressed her.

Her eyelids droop.

They’re so beautiful. They sail as though the ribbons and chains are merely there for decoration, as though the sky would be their playground with or without them. They might be aiming to make everyone laugh, but Mariam sees beyond that. It’s their artistry she’s swept up in—the way they flick not just their wrists but echo the motion straight through to their fingertips, the way they use every part of their body to sell a complete experience, the way their no doubt countless hours of rehearsal ensures their whimsy looks as effortless as it does unstudied.

The blue-haired man chokes up on one silk as he releases the other and wraps his foot in the chiffon. He spins. He twirls. He sails by his wrist. The ribbon fans like a cape beneath him.

But when he swings too close to his fellow performer, the redhead shoves him playfully out into space to send the blue-haired man arcing over the audience to a chorus of “oohs” and “ahs”. Seeking his revenge, the aerialist slips down the fabric to angle himself like a bullet with an aim for his fellow performer.

At the last moment, the man in the ring latches on to his friend’s wrist, and together, ring and ribbon twine through the air. They circle together before they push apart and rotate like two bodies caught in each other’s orbit. It’s beautiful. It’s hypnotic.

Mariam can’t get them out of her head. Of all the things she’s seen tonight, they ensorcel her every sense. They’re two fools bickering like brothers, but without the bounds of gravity, their playfulness becomes aerial ballet. She wants to be part of the fun.

The redhead climbs on top of his hoop, legs splayed around the supporting chain, and reaches for the chiffon. While he goes high, the blue-haired man goes low, grasping the ring. He looks up at his brother-in-air and pokes his tongue wickedly at the corner of his mouth.

The next thing Mariam knows, the hoop is white with frost, and with a yank, the blue-haired aerialist shatters the ring beneath the redhead’s legs. Frozen metal tinkles to the floor. The redhead grips his chain tighter now, but there’s vengeance in those calculating eyes, and he spins so fast, he looks like a tornado of fire.

His hand lashes out.

He grabs the ribbon supporting his friend’s foot.

Flame marches up and down the chiffon, and the blue-haired man barely has time to unwind his foot and leap to the second silk before the other ribbon is engulfed. It untethers at the loop above and drifts to the floor like a snake made of fire to coil messily beside the shattered hoop.

Both men hang by one hand. The set piece begins to lower, but their rivalry does not slow. Their feet bicycle as they kick each other like toddler brothers, and the room reverberates with laughter. They collide only to push off each other’s thighs, and when they swing back, their arms are outstretched—not for each other but for their opponent’s supports.

The pair stills in the air.

The redhead grips the silk above his friend’s hand, who also has hold of the chain now.

They look each other in the eyes, each confident they have the upper hand.

Chain crackles like a sheet of ice. Fire ignites like a burner.

Their eyes widen. Their cocky grins falter.

They fall.

The pair thunders to the floor, each landing on his own feet thanks to their cleverly choreographed descent. And then they descend into a playground slap fight like the fools they’re promoted to be, which sends Jooheon skittering to center ring to break it up.

The tent is shaking with the crowd’s laughter and applause. Mariam is already on her feet and whooping at the top of her lungs like she’s never done before.

Jooheon raises the redhead’s arm by the wrist and champions, “Minhyuk!”

He does the same to the blue-haired man next as he yells, “Changkyun!”

The crowd somehow gets louder.

“One more time, my friends, for all our distinguished performers!”

Out of the back comes the rest of the circus, including the Amorak and the perytons but thankfully no death worm. Together, everyone fills the ring, the ringmaster front and center. They bow in unison, even the animals, and when they rise, Mariam thinks it’s simultaneously the most ridiculous and most wonderful family she’s ever seen.

The crowd doesn’t seem to take a breath in its cheers. The stands might not be anywhere near packed, but no one would be able to tell because the heartfelt screams—and a couple of animalistic roars, she notes—fill the canvas to the brim.

Jooheon couldn’t look prouder. His dimples have never been deeper. His eyes are little arches. His pearly teeth glimmer. He glows not from the spotlights but from the praise.

“Thank you all for coming! From all of us at Le Cirque du Fantasme, you’ve been a terrific audience, and should our paths chance to meet again someday, we hope you’ll return for another round of unparalleled fantasies. Get home safely, everyone!”

The cheering continues even as the performers head backstage, and once they’re all gone, the guests begin to filter out, each murmuring to the other strangers. It’s clearer now that the lights have come up that the denizens of the big top couldn’t be more different. As far as Mariam can tell, she’s the only obvious human.

She lingers in the VIP box. She’s probably supposed to leave—it’s clear from Jooheon’s well-wishes that they’re all supposed to—and while she’s not afraid of the strange folk after such a show, she just doesn’t want to go.

She’s changed.

She’s not the same Mariam she was when she walked through those striped flaps. How can she go back to her boring, conservative, empty life knowing all that truly surrounds her? It’s like discovering that the world she always thought was flat has a third dimension.

The big top is empty now except for spilled cartons and other litter. Humongous paw prints dapple the dusty ring floor. Motes of dust drift through the beams of light, past the gently swaying extra cache of rings, ropes, and ribbons above.

With a deep, shaking sigh, Mariam resigns herself to her fate. Just as her hand lands on the swinging door to the box seats, the backstage curtains fling open, and the redhead, Minhyuk, and his blue-haired partner, Changkyun, enter.

“Finally!” exclaims Minhyuk in an exuberant voice. “Showtime is always the hardest when you can't open your mouth.”

“I think you’re the only one who suffers on that point,” Changkyun retorts in a much gravellier tone.

The pair take to sweeping up their torched and shattered mess as though they don't even realize they still have an audience, the redhead gabbing away to make up for lost time.

Mariam doesn’t say anything. She’s sure she’s not supposed to be here, and she worries they’ll ban her from ever coming back—not that she’s sure exactly where she is or how she got here. She ducks down a little before she catches herself in her own stupidity. There’s nowhere to hide.

Should she apologize? Hurry out? She could just tell them that their rhythmic aerial battling has stirred things in her that she never thought she’d feel, but that’s probably stupider than trying to hide.

The last act is still emblazoned in her mind when the ringmaster abruptly appears from the back. While the other two men work around the tent, he heads directly toward Mariam as though he never expected her to leave in the first place.

“Well, my dear, what did you think of the show?”

His lips look even fuller and juicier somehow. She’s drunk just on the way they purse and pucker.

“Unbelievable,” she breathes. “I don’t even know what to say about it.”

“And how has VIP been so far?”

Mariam cocks her head to the side. “So far?”

“Did you think your experience ended with the show?”

“Well, yeah.”

Jooheon chuckles. “For the pretty maid in the front row, I offer a truly once-in-a-lifetime upgrade free of charge.”

“What kind of upgrade?”

“Only the most exclusive kind. We’re going to custom build you a dream, my dear.”

Mariam squints. “I thought the circus was the new dream?”

“Well, thank you, but you forget that we took your best dream ever.”

“Oh, yeah,” she says with a blush and a scuff of her boot on the floor. She's getting a strange feeling from his burrowing gaze that she's missing something more important than she’s realized. “But since I don't remember what it is, how do I know you haven't already exceeded it? Tonight was amazing.”

“Trust me, we haven't traded in fair yet. We can do better because… it’s important to me that you remember tonight—and me—forever.” Jooheon smiles at her then, but it’s different than those other flamboyant smiles. This one is gentle and sincere.

“There’s no way I could forget,” she admits shyly.

He looks dubious, but he nods and offers his hand as he opens the VIP box door, too. “Let me see to it then.”

The moment Mariam’s hand slips into his, the ringmaster’s demeanor changes. He’s been the consummate showman all night, but he’s narrowed that influence of his tremendous power to her and her alone. The big top hasn’t changed, but as he leads her to the center of the ring, it’s all much more intimate now.

Jooheon squares up to her and smiles, this time with the faintest hint of a lip bite. His thumbs rub reassuringly over the back of her hands as he takes one step closer.

“We're going to make you the star of our show.”

#monsta x smut #le cirque du fantasme #october vibes #jooheon smut #minhyuk smut #changkyun smut #third person #trilogy

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sundropdaevon · 1 year

Text

IM CHANGKYUN - CONFESSION

he's just chill

was probably enjoying being single until he got a glance at you in a hotel he was staying at for vacation

boi was hooked

he tried to follow you in the midst of the hotel bar's crowd

then, he caught up to you

grabbing your wrist and twirling you around as the music was matching the atmosphere between you two

that's when he truly fell for you

yeah, cliche but its the romantic side of kyunnie, c'mon!

so from there, he tried to ask you out

you didn't have anything tying you down to say no to him, so you said yes (i swear if you'd say no to him grrr)

starting from that night, you two always went out on dates

he was trying to get to know you and you the same

and everytime, he falls for you even harder

he'd become clingy and would start to joke and tease you

you could say that from all those dates you had with him, he had built up his confidence to really ask you out to court you until you agree to become his

hed probably realize that when he's on a date with you tho

then hed suddenly say, "oh y/n, i have somewhere else i need to be"

you'd be shocked because of the speed when he ran out the doors

youd be there dumbfounded and just paid for the bill and went home

After a few weeks, hed be out of reach most of the time

Yeah, another cliche romantic stupidity, but how else can Changkyun prepare if you're going to keep buzzing his phone

So, he has no choice but to turn it off frequently within the whole week

Also, for sure he's going to choose to talk to you rather than achieving his main goal to surprise you

And then, he called

You were surprised to see his name with the ringing on your phone

You answered it and he told you to come to the hotel where you first met, but this time, the event hall

You knew it was an event, so you went there all dressed up, right for the occassion that awaited you

When you got to the doors of the event hall, you looked around the room

Flowers were scattered, lights were dimmed, only the fairy lights remained on

And in front of you was a carpet leading to the man behind all this

IM CHANGKYUN

you started walking towards him and he did too

You both met in the middle of the isle-like way, now staring intensely at each others eyes

You could feel the love that Kyunnie has for you, that luring stare, the agaped lips, and his whole outfit just matching everything

As you observed him, breaking the staring contest you two had, eyes wandering to his hands

From observation, you could tell that he's nervous

You took his hands out of initiative and carressed them

He couldn't talk, so you tried to guide him

"So, what were you going to say to me?"

"Uhm, uhhh...i- i"

"You?...what?"

"Damn it! I like you y/n!"

"Yeah, seems like it"

"Do you not like me too?" Boi would start to have tears in his eyes, so far from the character that he wants to embed in your mind

"Is this why you were not answering my calls and messages?" You tried to avoid the question, somehow teasing IM because you were seizing the moment on him

"You're avoiding the question, you must not like me back...that's okay I can just pack up and you can bring home the food i prepared and maybe can we just go back to being fri-"

You cut him off, making his eyes widen and body frozen

"Screw it, stop talking! I like you too!" You shouted and kissed him intensely like you were so pissed from his babbling

Within the kiss, you could feel his hands go through your hair then on your neck and another to your waist, pulling you closer

You both then broke off with the kiss and gave each other reassuring smiles that this wasn't a dream, this was real

#fluff #kpop fluff #kpop #monsta x #monsta x fluff #monsta x x y/n #im chang kyun #im changkyun #changkyun #imagines #monsta x im changkyun #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #scenarios #monsta x x reader #changkyun x reader #changkyun x you #changkyun x y/n #kpop scenarios

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breezybangtanbebe · 5 months

Text

Love U ❤️‍🔥 :Jooheon

A/n: readerxJooheon, teasing, bratty foreplay, fingering, rough and sneaky quickie.

3.3k words

You hated football.

Well...no.

Hate was a strong word and on any other occasion, you might have enjoyed watching a game or two. It wasn't the sport itself you appreciated but the bonding opportunity it presented for you and your man.

Cozying up against his chest.

Stealing his snacks.

Commentating on the game and giggling when he'd suddenly sit up from the couch, holding you to his body as he yelled at the TV.

Jooheon was always sexy when gets riled up like that and moments like that would always morph into something unsportsmanlike.

Sometimes when his eyes were glued to the screen, lips slightly parted from his focus, you got a kick out of trying to distract him.

Feeling on his chest.

Tickling his ribs gently.

Sneaking your hand beneath his shirt to fondle his nipples, making him squirm and tell you to simmer down. That usually led to you laying your head back down on his chest with a pout, masking your disappointment so you can ease your hand down into his shorts.

He always goes stiff when you would grope him casually over his underwear, getting a small kick at how he'd act indifferent to you wrapping your hand around his dick.

This brings us to the present, where you were currently doing just that.

"RUN THE FUCKING BALL, JONES!! Babe...chill.." Jooheon shouts suddenly, whispering the last bit to you for the fourth time, sounding more agitated than usual. The hushed volume of his voice was necessary, to not attract the attention of the company now sprawled out in your living room.

Hyunwoo and Changkyun are both seated on love seats placed on either side of the main sofa. Hyunwoo's girlfriend is perched on his lap, barely showing interest in the game as she texted. You weren't even sure why she was here if that's all she planned to do.

Kihyun stands in the kitchen debating over something food-related with Minhyuk, their exaggerated tones in competition with the TV. Which left you sandwiched between Hyungwon, who was dozing off due to the number of beers he drank, and your boyfriend Jooheon.

He has dressed aptly in his team's apparel, with a corresponding ball cap turned to the back over his dark hair. His red cotton hoodie smelled of his cologne, an addictive scent that you would happily inhale for as long as he'd sit still. You were leaned more into his side with his arm settled comfortably over your shoulders, both of you covered by a throw blanket. Conveniently, of course, concealing the way your hand was also comfortably tucked beneath his boxer briefs, stroking his clothed dick teasingly.

At first, he acted as if he didn't notice your touch, periodically sitting up in his seat at attention when something interesting happened on the screen. His eyes were glued and focused on the men in tights running up and down the field along with his friends. Less so aware of your exploring hand, subtly resting on his lap. Nothing out of the norm.

It wasn't until that same hand was creeping under the waistband of his sweats that you felt Jooheon stiffen and pay you a questioning look from the corner of his eye. You remained casual beside him, barely smirking as your hand traveled deeper to cup the healthy bulge beneath your fingers. You give him a gentle squeeze, making Jooheon flinch and clench his jaw.

"Chillchillchillchill.." he mutters under his breath, knowing only you would hear him. Now you couldn't mask your smirk if you wanted to.

A whistle is blown, and all three of the men paying attention sigh and hiss through their teeth in disappointment.

"Aw Come on! What are they doing?" Hyunwoo huffs. His girlfriend squirms against his lap when he scooted forward in his seat, holding her at her waist tighter as he moved. Neither of them was anywhere near paying attention to you or Jooheon, so you continued to fondle the softness of your boyfriend's balls.

"PENALTY?! The fuck? Is the ref blind??" Changkyun suddenly yells, making Hyungwon jump in his seat. Jooheon tenses for more than one reason and glanced at the younger of his friends before looking over at you with narrow eyes.

"Chill...out.." he mouths silently at you.

You gazed back with an innocent smile, and Jooheon's eyes drop to your mouth briefly before tearing them away to look back at the TV. That was the last time he acknowledged you or your horny shenanigans. It was rather bold of you to think he would be down for any of what you were doing considering all of his friends were around.

You're forced to remove your hand from Jooheon's pants when he stands abruptly with the two other conscious men in attendance. All of them yelling in excitement as the quarterback from their team dives into the in-zone.

"LETS FUCKING GOOOO!!" Jooheon exclaims and you watch bitterly from below on the couch, glancing around the others with mild contempt.

They weren't even supposed to be over here. One moment you're preparing for a chill evening at home with your significant other. Next thing you know, Jooheon is asking if it was cool for 'Shownu Hyung' to stop by with his girl.

Suddenly your house is full of 6 rowdy men, eating your food and drinking your alcohol.

"Ugh..." you sigh when reminded of the fact that just as a time out is called and everyone settled back into their seats, Jooheon included. He tries to resume the cozied-up position you were in with his arm draped over your shoulder distractedly, but you move out of his reach. He looks over at you and frowns slightly as you stand, tossing the blanket aside to fall over Hyungwon's lap.

"I gotta pee.." you grumbled with an attitude that's most obvious to him. Before he can ask you what was wrong, he's left stupefied and watching you step over Hyungwons legs and squeeze between couches in route of the hallway.

When you were alone, you could hear the sounds of cheering and cursing from inside the bathroom. It had been a few minutes since you left the living room and a part of you felt disheartened at the fact that Jooheon hadn't come looking for you yet.

You sighed in annoyance.

Mostly at yourself.

It wasn't a crime for Jooheon to have his friends over. He lived here too. And hell, you liked his friends.

Friday night footballs had kind of become a sacred thing between you and Jooheon, mainly because it was sometimes the only time you had your hardworking man to yourself.

Plus, you were horny as hell. The crotch of your leggings was sticking to you from watching Jooheon stroll around in those damn grey sweats. Looking and smelling good as hell. Teasing his semi-stiffness underneath the blanket. His dick was just so fun to hold. Thick and warm and veiny...

Getting lost in the memory of it, you found yourself staring at the drain of the sink as the water ran. Then you looked up at your sad reflection in the mirror, scoffing at yourself.

This was stupid. You lived with the man for fucks sake. You two could have sex later. This wasn't the first impromptu gathering, surely wouldn't be the last, and Jooheon was a gracious host until he was ready for the peace to return. Then he would politely kick everyone out and you'd have him to yourself again.

"Just get through the game and be patient..." you mumbled to yourself as you turned the faucet, switching the water off.

Just then, your heart skips a beat at the sound of the door handle turning and your eyes shoot up to find Jooheon entering the bathroom. Sounds of enthused chatter and the blaring TV fall dim behind the door as he closed it. When your eyes met in the mirror, he smirks before turning quickly to lock it. Then he looks back at you, letting his gaze travel down the shape of your body from behind.

As was mentioned before, you were wearing dark leggings and a flowy t-shirt. Your hair was pulled up and out of your face, which was bare and free of makeup. Your standard at-home apparel. Jooheon's favorite.

He takes his bottom lip between his teeth and cocks a brow.

"You've been in here for a while..." he remarks and you shrug.

"Surprised you noticed." You mumble as you turned to dry your hands that weren't even wet. It wasn't lost on you that Jooheon was eye fucking you from the door, which meant you knew exactly what was about to happen. But you couldn't let him know that.

Your response and indifference make him scoff and he glances away briefly.

"So now you wanna act like that? Like you weren't just holding my dick through the 1st half of the game.." he gestures over his shoulder and you shrug yours again.

"What does it matter now?... You ignored me the entire first half too." You quip. Jooheon chuckles softly at that, leaning against the door and stuffing his hands in his pants pockets.

"Ignoring you..." he deadpans and you regard him silently through the mirror.

"Seriously? You're the one who said you didn't mind if the guys came over...What the hell can we do with all of them around?"

There's a laugh in his tone that you didn't appreciate but he had you at a loss because he was right. What could he have done? The horny brat in you could have named at least three things you could have done but the rational you was beginning to feel like an ass.

A sudden roar of excited voices from the living room cuts through the conversation and Jooheon clenches his fists. You could tell he wanted to crack the door and poke his head out to see. Something happened and he was missing it because he was in here with you.

"Go back to your friends, Jooheon." you sigh, rolling your eyes.

"And leave you unattended? You think I don't know what you've been on about all night..." he furrows his brow, smirking humorously.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You shrug obliviously as if Jooheon couldn't see you fighting the smirk on your face in the mirror. He nods slowly as he stepped forward, scanning the medium-sized bathroom decor with mild interest as he joined you at the sink.

His front presses firmly against your back and he snakes his arms around your waist.

"I bet you don't.." he murmurs before dipping his head to kiss your neck. His lips immediately send a jolt of sensation directly to your clit and you feel yourself clench in wanting as Jooheon sucked at your skin.

You leaned your head away to give him more access, reaching up to caress his head. His team hat blocks you from what you wanted, so you lift it from his head and toss it aside carelessly. Jooheon chuckles softly against your skin as you run your fingers through his onyx-toned hair, tugging at the nape slightly when he sucked harder.

As he distracted you with his mouth, hands snake below the waistband of your leggings and head straight for your heat, where his experienced touch was already finding its way to your swollen clit. You knew you were soaking wet. You felt the heat pooling from your center for the past few hours of just watching Jooheon interact casually with his friends. So you knew even with him focusing on your clit that his fingers were coated with your nectar.

As if he knew your thoughts...

"You've been wet like this the whole time?" He asks, semi rhetorically. You respond anyway, your eyes wide and your lip slightly pouted as you nod to the mirror. Jooheon's fingers part just enough to allow your bud to slip between them and he pressed them together to give your clit a slight squeeze.

You gasp at the unexpected pressure and Jooheon clicks his tongue.

"Poor baby...So this was your plan? Get me to come looking for you....so you could get me alone..." his voice deepens as it trailed off and it was as if he was completely taken by how wet and warm you felt against his hand. You ground your ass against him needingly and Jooheon chuckles lightly at your little tease. He begins rubbing your clit with just enough pressure to make your eyes roll, strumming against you at a steady pace that catches you off guard.

"This what you wanted?"Jooheon whispered to you sinfully, his tongue barely skimming over the shell of your ear.

"Mmmhmm" you nod again, this time with your eyes watching the way his deft hand moved under the fabric of your leggings. He rubs you in soft circles, occasionally focusing on one side with more pressure and friction with each pass. Only making you weaker and wetter for him in the process.

Jooheon hums his approval of how warm and wet you were, whispering nasty praises softly against the back of your ear. He knew exactly what you needed, mentally and physically. So well, that you have to bite down hard on your lip to keep from moaning too loud.

He teases your bud for a few more swirls then glides the same two fingers down and inside of you suddenly, coating himself from the source. With his lips at your neck and his other hand beneath your shirt to cup your breast, Jooheon fingered you at a constant pace that has you shuddering.

They reach just deep enough for you to feel full and your walls clenched around him greedily as he upped the pace, curling upward slightly to rub at the rigid sensitivity inside of you.

You could feel that tingle already forming, the telltale signal to your orgasm approaching fast. Jooheon holds you tighter to his body when your back arches slightly and glances up to see your pleasured expression in the mirror.

"That's it...there you go..let it go, baby.." he coos. You nod wordlessly with your jaw slack, your breath quickening as his hand does until the wave crashes into you hard.

His dick throbbed in his sweats at the sight of you coming apart for him and he can't hold off any longer.

He had to fuck you now.

Your eyes are still closed but you felt his hand pulling away from your heat to yank at your leggings until they're pulled down just enough to expose your ass to him.

Jooheon nudges you forward, pressing at the small of your back to make you arch and lean against the cold counter. You watched him admire one of his favorite parts of your body for a moment, his hands running over your skin and squeezing your soft rounded cheeks with appreciation.

Soon after, he pushes his pants down mid-thigh and frees himself over his underwear quickly, using the hand that still glistened from finger fucking to stroke himself to relieve the tension built up. You were so eager to have him inside of you again, that you whimpered from the anticipation. Jooheon senses your urgency from the way you deepened your arch and spread your legs in waiting, your eyes filled to the brim with lust as you watched him stroke himself behind you.

He chuckles as he leaned forward. Without a word he pushes you flush against the edge of the counter, reaching down to lift one of your legs to rest against the its edge. This opens you up even more for him and allows the trapped wetness between your folds to drip down your inner thigh.

The scent of your arousal is thick and sweet, instantly activating Jooheon more than he already was as he gripped you at your hip. His other hand holds his thick length steady. He slaps his shaft against your puffy lips a few times teasingly, allowing your juices to coat his dick even more.

Even that felt amazing to you.

After teasing you a few more times, his dick glides inside of you slowly, taking the air from your lungs as you exhaled a moan that fills the bathroom.

Flinching at the sound, Jooheon quickly reaches around to cover your mouth with his hand. His large palm clamps down firmly over your parted lips, his arm slotted between your breast to hold you in place.

"Hush.." is all he says, not scolding you for being loud or even shooting you a warning look in the mirror. He only begins to move inside of you, stroking you slow and deep with a handful of your asscheek gathered in his other large hand.

You couldn't help the sounds coming from you at this point, though you did your best to control the volume despite him fucking you harder. The leg he had lifted and resting against the counter was starting to ache from being in such an awkward position but you were already close again and Jooheon could feel his own nut about to break through.

So he fucked into you faster. Closing his eyes and giving in to his primal self as he groaned from deep in his throat. It was almost as if he grew harder as the seconds passed and every time the tip of his dick hit the deepest part of you, a combination of pain and pleasure rippled out and all over your body.

Your drawn-out moans taper out into staccato mewls that heated the palm of your boyfriend's hand in time with his strokes. Jooheon wasn't far behind and knew full and well what your body was telling him.

"ooh, shit...." he whispers, fucking you faster and harder and harder until he pulls his hand away from your mouth to reach down between your legs to rub at your clit with just enough pressure to push you over the edge.

"Joo..honey...baby...I'm...I'm.." you whisper breathlessly. Just as you felt your chord about to snap, Jooheon slams into you so hard and deep that you're forced forward against the counter.

The sound he makes is so sexy and unbridled and you can feel the heat of his seed pumping into you while the thick tip of his dick presses hard against your cervix. That last bit of pressure combined with the friction of his fingers tips you over the edge and your tearful eyes roll back in surrender.

Thank God for the noise going on in the living room, or else returning to the living room would have been much more awkward than it felt. No one acted as if the two of you disappearing in the middle of the game was unusual and all eyes were on the TV.

Except for Hyungwon's, who was still seated on his corner of the couch, seeming uninterested in the game and as aloof as ever. The moment you returned to your spot on the middle couch cushion, he glances over as Jooheon pulls you back into him with the blanket over your laps. He kisses your temple and looks ahead to make himself familiar with what he'd missed. Changkyun fills him in quickly and you prepare to get cozy against him again, as you were before.

But something tells you to look over and you find Hyungwon's shade-infused eyes on you.

"What? "You frown.

Hyungwon mirrors your expression for a moment but it melts into an amused smile. He shakes his head and looked ahead as he responded below his breath.

"Yall nasty..."

#monsta x smut #jooheon #jooheon smut #joohoney #monsta x #Spotify

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