#goryeo au

[hexonthepeach]

a gentle tongue breaketh the bone | 18: care

pairing: fem hybrid fox omega!reader/hybrid Alpha!nct 127

tags: reverse harem, non-traditional omegaverse hybrid! cyberpunk au, pack dynamics, polyamory, slowburn/slowbuild, angst & hurt/comfort, heavy content warnings inc. torture, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, explicit sexual content

summary: the year is 2127. decades of eugenics and warfare have led to the rise of designated populations: the ruler Alphas and their rare, prized omegas sequestered from the Beta population. in the aftermath of the War of the Two Tigers, New Goryeo ushers in an Imperial dynasty determined not by birthright but by the alliance of the Syndicate’s clancorps to choose the best pack of your generation. you are destined to take your place within the Imperial harem as a queen, and–perhaps–Imperatrix herself

but you have a secret, written into your skin and bones–one that could easily kill you, depending on who finds it out

ten years ago you chose your Alpha and their pack in a fateful meeting

now, you must make them choose you

[masterlist & glossary] [read on AO3] [17: chivalry]

wc: 5k

chapter warnings:  smut with a little angst - oral (fem receiving), use of pet names (kit) - aka life-altering head from a man you can't stand the sight of

recommended listening: hmm stream fact check but maybe add back 2 u (AM 01:27) - nct 127 because that's about the time this takes place and the sentiment is the same (in the words of mark lee "damn, they're really not going back"

You're on fire when you wake up, burning hot, unable to think straight for how your vision swims with fever. 

It's excruciating to be alone in this wide bed, empty, whimpering as your fingers reach for the bedside table and the glass of now-oxidized water on it, fumbling enough you hear the shatter as it hits the floor.

You cringe back into the bed, too tired to get up and take care of it, or even to roll out the other side to get a drink, lines of radiating cold keep you bed bound. 

Something heavy sinks the mattress beside you.

"___," someone says, distantly, pulling your clenched fist from your face to place a cold metal cup against it. When you can't lift your head you're gently lifted up by a hard set of arms, your head tipped back just so to accept the drink pressed to your lips. 

You drink, and taste him. Your eyes fly open, brow knitted. 

You'd fight it if you could, would wrestle free of his hold so you couldn't have to accept it, but there's no battle left in you. 

Johnny keeps you upright until you're finished, laying you down on the bed as softly as if you were made of gossamer when he moves to clean up the mess, leaving you with your heart racing in your chest as you watch his sloped back bend over his work.

"What are you doing here?" you mumble, finally, after he's returned with a towel to finish mopping up the puddle from the floor. 

You can see the muscles in his shoulders tense, hair brushing against them as he shakes his head. 

"You're not meant to be alone," he says, softly. "Don't get mad. I gave my word to Doyoung I'd just take care of you while you were sleeping. I'll go get him–."

Take care of you. How ridiculous, you think, turning over to twitch and shiver. You hear him move to leave, cursing yourself for the jolt of fear that runs through you at the thought of being abandoned again.

"Stay," you say aloud.

Johnny doesn't leave but he doesn’t move towards you. You feel your hackles raising defensively as his gaze burns into you from across the room.

"I'm not going to try to mate you," you spit out. Not even if you were the last person on earth, you think, though it's as much a lie in your mind as it would be on your tongue. "Just stay, you don't need to disturb them this late."

"Alright," he says, moving to the door a little more lightly. When he comes back he falls back into his routine of dropping to the floor beside your bed. You knew cats had a stupid habit of establishing or conceding dominance through relative height but it's absurd having him sit on the floor when the bed is big enough for you both.

You roll over to glare at his wide shoulders.

"What are you doing, exactly?"

"I know you don’t feel safe," Johnny answers, resigned. "I haven't . . . I can stay like that, if you want me to."

Your heat-dazed mind still knows what he means, having seen his ears just as black as before–tail curling around his feet. He'd spent more time in his shift than out of it the past 24 hours, and you'd done nothing to stop him.

"If that’s what gets you to shut up, by all means," you say.

Strange how the beast was so much easier to be around than the man, how you can't stomach the sight of the face you'd longed for since you'd first learned to put a name to your desire.

But it's undeniable that having him at your side is already diminishing some of the worst aches and chills, feeling like when your mother used to rub a remedy of menthol on your chest when you were sick as a child. 

"And get off the floor," you add, turning so you can't fixate on how beautiful he looks to you, how much you want to wrap your arms around that neck and hold him tight. The sound of him undressing makes your body incandescent with shameful arousal, at least saved from embarrassment by the fact that it can't be helped, and you aren't doing anything about it.

You don't even sneak a look. The air goes frigid as he changes, the scent of juniper stinging your nostrils.

Within a few seconds the bed dips deep beside you, paws the size of your head sinking into the mattress. And then a whuff as he settles, knobby spine beneath the fur and muscle digging into your own. 

The minutes drag out as your fox settles, body heat melding with the cool brush of a flicked tail across your thighs twisting in the sheets. His Felid pheromones are laced with a sharp citral, but he's also velvet draped over soft, black leather and warm tea. 

You breathe more deeply, body responding to your Alpha like clockwork. The fever making you uncomfortable is also making you feel gooey and pliant with arousal, your hands flexing beside you to keep from reaching for him in the dark.

Minutes pass, an eternity by your own estimation.

Any innocent thoughts of sleeping beside him while he’s in his hybrid form are torn asunder by how far into need you have fallen. Snippets of fantasies play out on loop, intrusively, as the minutes count down.

You try to concentrate on the deep well of hurt inside you but your fox isn't wont to look down into it. She tosses and turns in the sheets, uncomfortable for the fact that she cannot burrow into the side of the thing behind you. 

There's a spark of fear inside at what you'll do when you're asleep. Even if you trust him to recognize your boundaries you don't think you can live with the embarrassment of letting the heat overwrite your will to keep him at arm's length.

"I don't think I can do this." You sound so pathetic in your own mind, asking the peaceful night for courage. "Please go.” 

A rumble, and then you feel the sweep of his tongue against your neck, the side of your jaw. It's meant to be comforting, a farewell of sorts as the jaguar lifts up off the bed, but you respond without thinking, clinging to his broad neck until he remains.

"Could you . . . Could you do that again?" you ask. You turn away again, convincing yourself there's nothing wrong with this–you need it, can use him while you can. 

If Johnny minds, it's not apparent. He licks you in another broad swath, this time across your sensitive neck. You bite back a moan, going limp under his careful grooming.

Your blood should run cold at the memory of the last time an Alpha cleaned you but instead you're dissolving into the healing of it, being rewritten. Salty tears roll from the corners of your eyes as you reach back to twist your claws in his ruff.

It's clearly not an indication for him to stop. You pull his great head forward, raking nails across his thick skin until you hear the distant rattle of his breath and then, finally, what sounds like a purr.

You know his genus can't make the sound–they lack the hyoid bone of smaller cats–but the fact that he's trying makes you only sob harder, curling into him.

You can feel him beneath the form, quiescent and equally as comfortable with you as you are with him this way. Such a sudden change of heart has your own feeling sick; you don't know what it means, don't want to think too deeply into something you still feel like will be snatched away.

Your fingers drift over the back of his massive toes, then curl under them to test the sandpaper pads with your smaller thumb for the prick of claws. You marvel at how he keeps them contained.

"Do you still think of me as a threat?" you ask, as he grooms you. Speaking to him is the only way you think you can stay tethered to reality and the emotions inside you.

There's a careful lick down the back of your neck, dragging your shirt collar.

"Am I still nothing to you?" 

You can feel a layer of salt removed along with a few layers of skin by his tongue clearing your wet cheek. 

Not nothing, it seems to say.

"Why did you have to be so cruel?" You look at him now, seeing only the slow blink of a relaxed feline. He offers you a place to rest, collapsing onto his side and exposing his belly slightly. You shuffle to lay where his leg meets his broad chest, burying your face into his rich fur.

"I feel like an idiot for letting myself believe, even for an instant, what you said to me." It's a relief to speak without fear of him arguing or shutting you down. "But you wanted me to, didn't you?"

He pauses, pushing into your skull in what feels like reassurance, resting his head above yours with an animal’s sigh. 

"And now you want to take responsibility? Only after you feel bad about it? How can I ever trust you again? Why shouldn't I find someone else who appreciated me from the beginning?"

Now you feel the flex of claws from their sheaths, hear the tear in the duvet as a spark of jealousy burns your blank mind.

"You don't want to share me? You should have thought of that before leaving me."

Like dropping a choice cut of meat in front of a starving animal's cage and telling it to wait to consume it. But of course you had also offered yourself willingly.

"I'm yours," you say. "I can't not be yours. If you want me now you have to wait for me. The way I waited for you."

You reach beside you, palm brushing against his slow-breathing side. The power hidden under miles of dark-patched fur is its own kind of aphrodisiac–knowing he could consume you or kill you in an instant, if he wasn't himself. 

But he'll never not be himself with you. Though the bond you share is mostly quiet, that connection tells you everything you need to know about his control, and most especially the comfort he has having his omega at his side.

You don't even realize your hand has drifted lower until your knuckles brush against his less-furred belly, startling you both. 

You've reached down between your legs to where you're just as saturated with slick as you had been the last time you'd let him touch you. You wait for him to break away or respond cruelly but he only nudges you again with his broad nose, whiskers tickling your eyelashes as you close your eyes.

"Don't stop, please," you murmur, dragging your fingers through your swollen sex. "Keep grooming me, Alpha."

At first you think he won't do it, his chin resting against your head lightly. Then you feel his teeth catch on your hair, as his tongue folds against your ear. 

You moan, lightness rolling through your scalp down to your belly with each soft lick. He's being more careful now, probably unsure of how to proceed.

Again, you reach up across the foreign yet familiar shape of him, as you touch yourself to the thought of him going lower. You want that roughness to follow the course of what he's transmitting to you through his care, for him to taste you with that same tongue–

The bed goes hot, as if hell had snapped into existence beside you, and suddenly a male body is pressed dangerously into yours. Within a moment your hand is pinned over your head, his hold loose.

"Look at me, ____."

You look up, whimpering softly, into his stare–dark as honey left to crystallize, darting with concern. 

"I'm not trying to mate you," Johnny says, voice rough. He swallows, eyes wandering to your tongue wetting your lips, his own curving in a pained smile. "But I can help you."

You don't want his help. More importantly, you don't want to need it.

"You know you can stop me. Whenever you want, okay?"

It's a statement of fact, not a question. He's ceding control to you, but also you understand the wild orange blossom radiating from him isn't just arousal. He's as terrified as you are of crossing a line–perhaps even erasing it completely with the tension between you.

You can only nod, your tail breaking free of your weight to curl against his bare thigh in invitation. The knowledge that he's naked over you isn't as humbling as the way he looks at you now, eyes half-lidded and gentle. It's as if you're the only thing in the world. 

"You can say whatever you want, be as mean to me as you want," He closes his eyes in that same slow blink of a relaxing Felid. "I won't fight you or hurt you. Just please let me take care of you."

As frightened as you feel, you nod, hand under his tightening to let him know you understand.

"You can go back to hating me when the sun rises," he whispers. Then he wrests your hand free of your sex, lifting your glistening fingers to his mouth to gently suck them clean, watching your reaction.

The bed should be on fire for how quickly you've broken out in a tingling sweat, heartbeat stuttering at the feeling of his teeth against your knuckles, nails catching on his full bottom lip.

He leans in to brush against your chin, threading down to your bared throat. He's deliberately running his tongue–much softer now–over the uninjured right side of your neck. 

His side.

It makes your fox want to roll over and raise her hips for him immediately but you hold on to the memory of his claws in your throat. Does he still hate you? Is he just using you at your weakest for his own base desires?

"I've never hated you," you say, gasping as he settles into pulling his tongue over your pulse, until the throb matches the one between your legs. "I just . . . I hate what you make me feel."

"Good." He's cleaning you again, hair tickling your jaw as he makes broad swaths on your collarbone. "You should."

You really should, you know. You will, when you can actually form a coherent thought. He's taking advantage of you, exploiting your weakness. Shame should be spiraling you down to a darker place, where you're forced to face what you are.

But he's not touching you or kissing you in a way that implies his need, just grooming you, as you'd asked. The only betrayal here is the fact that it's not your beast but a man–softer and more intimate than you could have ever imagined. 

"You taste so good," he murmurs, lifting your loose shirt to access the skin beneath. 

"Quiet," you warn. You're already undone by the sight of him lowering his tongue to your breast, lapping the dots of sweat that have collected over your heart. 

For a moment your barriers slip and you can taste yourself as he experiences it through the bond. 

He won't show you any other affection but the thrum of pleasure inside of him is enough. He's so very pleased to have what little he can of you, each breath chasing his licks marred by the purr he can give you in this form. 

You lose yourself in hypersensitivity, legs locked to keep from accidentally brushing against his body. You know even just a taste of contact would have your heat-addled brain demanding he fill you immediately.

His tongue accidentally flicks across your nipple and you seize his skull in your claws so tight he gasps into your skin. You can't tell if it's because of the pain until his tongue wraps around it again, pulling it into hardness as your nails scratch deeper. 

"Stop that," you warn. 

Johnny murmurs his assent, laving at your underbreast in a manner that is just as maddening. You arch your back, forgetting your grip on his head until he pushes back into it, demanding you pet him. 

You have a mind to deny him but it feels so good to have your fingers buried in those soft, thick locks. They've curled under your handling, draped over his jaw and ghosting you every time he dips in to taste you. 

The passes of your sharp nails are your way of speaking, of consenting as he drifts lower over the softness of your belly, mouth and breath lighting up your clammy skin. He takes his time in lapping at the salt on your hip bone, earning a smack in the face from your flicking tail. 

"Lower," you command, not letting any reason guide you. He glances up, too slow to hide the smug look on his face. 

"Clean me, only." You move to remove your loose sleepwear and are unsurprised when he uses brutish force to tear them free of your tail and legs, following them down.

You freeze in anticipation as he pants over your exposed sex, taking you in. His face is hidden but you can feel his smile, hear it in his voice when he speaks.

"Is this your first time?" he asks. 

You sigh, staring at the ceiling, hands tightening into fists. You don't have to tell him about Jungwoo burying his face between your legs on his desk, or anything else, really. But you can feel his hesitation and the question is more for your sake than his.

"Yes," you say, unable to make eye contact.

"Good." He settles down over your hips, breathing hot, "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else." 

You kick him a bit in retaliation but he pushes your thighs open and apart, tongue drawing through the dripping folds just as tenderly as he had your neck, your breasts. 

You knew this would be different. You don't expect the fox's shriek that rips from your throat, muffled beneath your hand, as his head dips with each long swipe, collecting your slick with curls of his tongue. 

His jaw works as he drinks you in, the pleasure from that hot, tender press so unlike anything you've ever experienced. 

When he presses his tongue to your hole, sliding into the fluttering heat, you seize him by his ears to pull him back.

You don't remember them being so soft and on his head, but it's not the only thing that's changed by the new scrape against your inner labia, the texture adding a layer of animal need that has your hips moving on their own against his face, wanting him closer.

Lick after lick has you rising from the mattress. When he swirls his tongue into your hidden bud you know it won't be long before that bright wave inside of you begins its descent. 

"Please, Alpha, please," you keen, scratching his skull in a way you're sure leaves blood beneath your nails. He's so patient with you, not stopping the steady stimulation you need to build towards bursting, nose pressed to your skin as he takes every drop of slick you can give him, drool mingling to slide hot down to your tail.

It doesn't matter if it's messy, the opposite of grooming, he's taking care of you–bringing you perfect pleasure and humming in reassurance when you press hard against him. The tighter that winding in your belly the more lazy he is, prolonging it until you're whining, your begging inarticulate. 

"Come for me, ____." He doesn't need to order, not with that Felid tone and the thunder you feel in it, electric zings beginning where his tongue meets you and spreading down in radiating pulses as far as your curled toes. 

You're breaking with nothing inside you this time, and somehow it's more relieving, prolonged by the constant but unpredictable movements of his mouth and tongue. 

He finally eases once your legs constrict around him and you squirm away from the overstimulation, flush rolling through you along with the tiny aftershocks of the first orgasm you've received from your Alpha.

Your first real gift. 

If you're glowing, he's incandescently self-satisfied. You watch his silhouette lift against the backdrop of the bluish, clouded city behind him, wiping his face clean just to lick the remnants from his fingertips.

"That won't be enough." He laughs a little, lowering his face back to your mess. "Should I clean you again?"

"Alpha," you try to warn him but it sounds more like a plea, legs trembling awaiting the next attack.

"Yes, kit?" The vibration of his voice against your sex is too much already; the endearment makes your fox fully prostrate.

"I want . . ." you admit.

You'd forgotten what you want to say, whining in the back of your throat. The sound is desperate for other reasons, and he seems to recognize it immediately. He lets go of your thighs, hunching over you far enough away in the dark his body isn't pressed to yours–just your foreheads. 

You keep your eyes clenched shut to keep from weeping again, scared of how little control you have left within you. It's too soon, too much, and not enough at the same time. And the worst part is how far away you feel from him, as if just relaxing into this new joy would damn you to be written the way he'd already estimated you. 

It's just her nature. That thing.

A violent wave of despair and anger courses through you, unearthed by the comedown. 

"Shh," he says. "You're safe. I know I haven't been there for you when you needed it. But you've always been safe with me. Everything I've ever done–"

He pauses, biting his own words, pressing closer. 

"I just want to take care of you while I can." 

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down until your noses bump against each other. 

"I'm still mad at you," you say, searching for his eyes. "I may forgive you, but I can't forget."

"I know," he says, shifting in your grasp. 

"If I beg, even if I order you . . . please don't mate me yet. Please. Listen to me, if you can."

He nods his head. You feel your own body quaking transferred to him–or maybe he's feeling it just as intensely. Sometimes you think that it's impossible to tell where you end and he begins.

"I want you to earn me, first," you say. "I want you to know me."

You feel he wants to reply but you don't give him the opportunity, pulling yourself up by his shoulders to kiss him for the first time.

His mouth is softer than his fur, or his hair threaded in your fingers, or even him as he holds, not melting into it the way you wish he could.

He's still unsure.

Johnny doesn't push you any further, letting you be the one to explore his swollen lips, finding them parted and still soaked with you. Instead he opens up for you to better taste yourself on him–tart and so much sweeter with his impression. 

When his lips move with yours, finally, it's tentatively hopeful, like his exploration of your body. For all his bravado and confidence you never would have imagined him to be just as shy as you stroke his hairline and he trembles deeper at being touched. 

It's what makes you want him more than anything you've ever wanted in your entire life. Not for the first time, or the last.

A part of you wants to be bred until you're dripping his hot release for days, making him stay locked in you for hours as you tear the mattress to shreds beneath you coming on his knot. You want him to lose himself in your body, to finally mark you again now that you're both willing and ready to have each other.

But Doyoung was right. You had to know it was your choice. Even if you never had his love, even if you would always question your own heart with the bond unbroken between you, you had to know if he was worthy.

It's only fair. For both of you.

"Get out of my bed," you say, firmly.

That easy smile again, eyes narrowed with confidence. "Don't you want–"

You shut him up with a claw against the dip beneath his nose, shaking your head a little too hard.

"I know what I want," you say. "Be grateful that you got a taste of it."

He's shocked by your response, but there's a flash of thrill. You think maybe he likes being talked down to, his Alpha so ready to be challenged.

"Fine," he says, appropriately dismayed but also a little more himself in the way he stands over you, once he's managed to pull his pants back on. "I'm staying here tonight, though. I'll get you more water and something to clean up with." 

You grunt a little, turning away from him so he can’t see how mortified you are at what you’ve just done, as well as how much you wish you could continue.

"If you need anything else, anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Don’t forget I can feel it, too.” He pauses, letting it sink in that of course, he knows you’re still simmering with lust. “I don't mind being used–"

You throw a pillow in his direction to silence him.

[previous] [next] [check the masterlist before you proceed]

#agtbtb #nct x reader #nct smut #nct 127 fic #nct fic #nct imagines #nct 127 cyberpunk au #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 smut #nct johnny smut #johnny suh smut #nct scenarios #nct 127 omegaverse #nct fanfic #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios

[peppermintdraws]

Some art for @martuzzio ’s fanfic “The Shield and the Shadow” on AO3. One of the best fics I’ve read in a while, ESPECIALLY since I’m a sucker for historical AUs and knights/outlaw stories. For real, keep up the amazing work and I can’t wait for the next update!

Anyways, I was inspired to make my own König and Horangi designs. They aren’t in the story as of now, but this got me out of a VERY long art block ;-;

History nerd info dump below the image if people are interested :)

(I didn’t know the period of the fic, so I ballparked it at about 1000 AD, the high middle ages in Europe) 

König has elements from knights/warriors of the Holy Roman Empire, which controlled the territory that would become Austria until about 1806. Though, the Holy Roman Empire didn’t exactly have a standing army during the high middle ages. A subdivision of the empire was the kingdom of Germany, formed in 846 CE. 

His armor most closely resembles the Free Imperial Knights of the Holy Roman Empire, through they wouldn’t be prevalent until about 15th century CE. And of course, an executioner hood and axe. If that was his occupation, he would have been shunned by his community as a social outcast, defined by the special clothing in public.

Horangi was based on the army under Korea’s Goryeo Dynasty, which lasted from about 918-1392 CE. Similar to how the High Middle Ages were time of more prosperity (before the black death of the late middle ages), it was a period of growth and investment into the arts. 

Part of his design is a Siberian/Amur Tiger skin. Now extinct in the region, tigers used to populate Korea and are an extremely important part of their folklore, especially creation myths. Now, due to poaching and territory loss, the tigers are only in the wild in Eastern Russia and China’s border.

His armor features a Durumagi (a long cloth coat) and Lamellar armor (body armor made by sewing rectangular plates of metal in rows on the coat), as well as a wide-brimmed feathered helmet with wings protecting the ears/neck. Masks weren’t depicted in any reference photos but I’m sure he would have some cloth lying around to use

#COD #Call of duty Modern Warfare 2 #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanart #medieval 141 #medieval 141 au #cod fanart #konig fanart #horangi fanart #historical facts that I spent way too long looking up #and so many reference images omg #Also had to throw in some tiger facts

[itstokkii]

35,46 and 50 <3

35: Post a Hetalia sketch or draft you want an excuse to share

this was for a soojin-based playlist! I'm still working on it...so many songs I wanna cram here. for now, accept it as a march 1st movement art piece!

also this! it's part of an au idea i was cooking up of turkey being a streamer and desperately trying his best to break through vampire uzb's mansion to explore it. she shooes him every time.

46: Who gives the warmest hugs?

surprisingly, north korea? when either of the korea twins needed emotional support due to working and living in the courts of goryeo and joseon, the other would be happy to give it. but one thing still remained and it's that north korea's hugs are soft and warm and comforting. to this day, when soojin/yongsoo's experiencing breakdowns, the one thing they miss is suho's hugs. warm tea or a nap works less and less each time.

50: Repost your favorite work (that you created) and say why

my favorite work...omg...do I have one??? I don't know! but it seems like everyone loves my vday yongsoo art so I'll repost that one!

#hetalia #aph south korea #hws south korea #aph korea #hws korea #im soo jin #aph north korea #hws north korea #im suho #aph uzbekistan #hws uzbekistan #aph turkey #hws turkey #turkuzbek #tokki answers #ask game #im yong soo

[rec-review8890]

RM | Werewolf!au RECs

(💦) ~ Smut , (🐑) ~ Fluff , (👊) ~ Angst , 

(📝) ~ Series , (🗒) ~ One-Shot/Drabble , 

(💜) ~ Personal Favorite 

Request Guidelines | Fic Rec ML

NONE of these works are mine. Give all your love to the authors and their works. The links will either bring you to the Tumblr page or a Ao3 page of the work. 

-

Title: Born For This 💦👊📝💜

Author: @catheriiineeee​

Summary: Alpha!Namjoon x Omega!Reader. Also Yander!au. 

↳ “It’s the Goryeo era. And you happened to be a rare type of omega. Other Omegas like you were either dead or hunted till almost extinction. You luckily escaped and were living a normal life until you were chosen as an offering to the walking God of the land; Alpha Namjoon.”

-

Title: Against The Moon 💦🗒

Author: @littleshygirlfics​ 

Summary: Alpha!Namjoon x Omega!Reader. 

↳ “Alpha Namjoon catches the scent of an omega on his lands, on the run from human slavers, and decides to protect her. His alpha, however, decides to mate her. Please read the tags very carefully before clicking on this fic! Honestly though, it’s not as dark as it sounds - he’s quite sweet really!”

-

Title: How You Get Them To Relax 🐑👊🗒

Author: @thedarkwinterrose​ 

Summary: Werewolf!Namjoon x Vampire!Reader. All that fluffy goodness!

↳ “Being Pack Alpha isn't easy and nobody knows that better than Namjoon.Always having to be the perfect leader than everyone expects him to be but even Namjoon needs to have a day where he can simply be Namjoon. Who can make that happen other than you?”

-

Title: Under The Full Moon 🐑👊🗒💜

Author: @yumeyooa​ 

Summary: Werewolf!Namjoon x GN!Reader. Also enemies to lovers and forbidden love!au. I’m such a sucker for forbidden love!au’s!

↳ “—in which only the moon is a witness to the forbidden love you and namjoon share”

-

Title: Bitten 💦🐑👊📝💜

Author: @shadowpercy (Ao3)

Summary: Werewolf!RM x Witch!Reader. The forbidden love!au is through the roof with this one!!!!!

↳ “Rule number 1 of the holy book of witches: witches may never have intercourse with a werewolf. Every violation will be punished.You were a witch, he was a werewolf and it was forbidden.”

#wolf!namjoon #wolf!rm #rm #namjoon #bts #namjoon bts #rm bts #namjoon x reader #werewolf!au #werewolf!namjoon x reader #fic recs #bts recs #halloween #werewolf!namjoon x werewolf!reader #werewolf!namjoon x human!reader #love is love

[kaisooficrec]

The Legendary Warrior

Author: sashiadoh

Genre: Omegaverse, ABO AU, Mulan AU, Smut, Knotting, Angst, Soulmates, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Historical AU, Wars, Korean History

Warning: Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceMajor Character Death, Psychological Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Drugs, War, Blood and Violence, Killing, Torture, Depression, Anxiety, sex under the influence

Rating: NC-17

Length: Chaptered

Summary: All his life, Jongin has come to like and engage in activities only an alpha was allowed to do despite being an omega himself. Coming from a family of pure-bred alphas, his parents pretended that Jongin himself was an alpha so that he will be accepted by his entire family. One day, when Goryeo calls for the mandatory enlistment of all alphas from the kingdom, sending one soldier per household, Jongin decides to disguise himself as an alpha in the Goryeo army to stop his sickly father from enlisting. Jongin then meets a mix of different soldiers from all walks of life, including Kyungsoo, who he develops a strong bond with that he does not understand at first. Together, Jongin and Kyungsoo engage in valiant warfare to defend their country from foreign invaders, with Jongin coming to terms with who he is and being proud of his own identity.

Admin J's Note: a historical fic based on mulan au intended to be posted in the latest round of top!soo fic fest. The mods are now on hiatus so the authors have decided to post their fics on their own. The plot is losely inspired by Mulan but the first chapter will definitely hook you in!

Read

#kaisoo #jongin #kyungsoo #rec #genre:historical #genre:wolf au #genre:smut #rating:nc17

[exiaax]

Kim Dokja, Humanity's Last Master

FGO AU: In Chaldea, running around everywhere with this seemingly normal Korean guy, are the following world-renowned Servants:

Lancer Sun Wukong, Saber Archangel Uriel, Caster Black Flame Abyssal Dragon, Alter Ego Secretive Plotter, Caster Dionysus, Ruler Hades, Caster Persephone, Saber Goryeo’s First Sword, Pretender Loki, Foreigner Outer Gods, Rider Mass Production Maker, Shielder The Tin Man of Oz, Rider Surya the Sun God and etc.

#orv kdj #orv #fgo au #orv au #kim dokja

[cooltrainererika]

Alt-talia: Student of China

Hello! This is for @hwsasiaweek ! Also for @historical-hetalia-week .

I guess this could be tangentially related to Day 6 “The sun shines for us all”, but I guess it applies more to Day 5: OCs, because the central character here is an OC. Though this fic focuses on the relationship between this OC and China, so maybe one could file this under Day 3: China, Vietnam too. But it covers too many prompts so I ultimately decided to submit under Day 10: Free day! For HHW, this is also Day 7: Free Day.

First of all, I’d like to introduce my OC; Father Korea, as I like to call him. He basically represents Korea before the split, specifically from Goryeo to the Korean Empire. I thought he’d represent Silla too, but after doing a bit more research I thought it would be best if Father Korea started as Goryeo. His human name is still being debated though, because it’s an artifact from when he was still Silla. My idea is that basically, North and South Korea, Hyun and Yong-Soo respectively, were raised by him as Egg Realms, realms in waiting.

Also, Alt-talia is still nationverse, but a bit AU. Characterizations are very different. This particularly stands out with China here.

CW: Drugs, mention of death at the end

#hwsasiaweek #hws korea #hws China #tw drugs #historical hetalia #alt talia #alttalia #historicalhetaliaweek #drugs cw

[siamesephoenixrandomideatank]

Gravity Falls: Zodiac Swears over Lives AU

This AU is inspired from concept of reincarnations (Like in Nickelodeon's Avatar Franchises and CN's Adventure Time), as well as some aspects from Buddhism (especially Soul Bonds). The member of zodiacs are all connected spiritually since around 1180s, as a group of siblinghood swearing to protect the world from Eldritch threats together, until there is no more humankind. In the oath, even death won't stop them from succeeding their mission.

Those ten people were people around late Heian Period japan. They were The Ronin, The 'Hidden Service' Geisha, The Wildling Archer, Goryeo Merchant escaped from Sambyeolcho Rebellion, The Abbot, The Outlaw Alchemist from kingdom of Lavo(Central Thailand today), The noble from Song Chinese Empire, Sworn Siblings who were thieves for living, and Ryukyuan who was enslaved. There were no exact names confirmed archaeologically, mostly called them by nicknames of everyday plants, animals, objects, or abstract symbols.

These ten people united against the evil daimyo whose name was known as "The Ciphering Warlord". He and his troops worshipped 'a form of Bhodthisatha'(or what they claim the entity to be) known "King of Three corners" or "One eye who sees all truth". The legends about them have common ending; they were all burnt in a blazing castle. The nameless ten were left none of their bodies but ashes, yet, there were a cyclical symbol with unknown symbolism. It was resemble to the zodiac in Gravity Falls, like it was coincident.

Those ten souls had been scattered across the planes of Samsara(or cosmic) for almost a thousand years. However, there was something rebonded them to Earth, and those ten souls were those meant to be the Zodiac.

Let's say, which one would you like to see as fic in A03?

#reincarnation au #gravity falls #gf au #gf zodiac #gravity falls zodiac #pines twins #dipper pines #mabel pines #ford pines #stanley pines #stanford pines #stan pines #soos ramirez #wendy corduroy #pacifica northwest #gideon gleeful #old man mcgucket #fiddleford mcgucket #robbie valentino #reincarnation #reincarnated au

[mactuna]

skz fic recs <3

m.list favs:

@/changbeanie

OT8

Hickey ~~ kim-seung-mo

Bang Chan

Love Dream ~~ @/changbeanie

From Grace ~~ @/changbeanie

The Eclipse ~~ @/changbeanie

Late Office Nights ~~ @/changbeanie, ceo au

Free Fall (1) (2) (3) ~~ @/changbeanie, mafia au

Chan's Room, ep. 128 ~~ @/straykidsftw, dad au

Star Family ~~ @/thevampywolf, dad au

Lee Minho

Youngblood ~~ @/changbeanie

Ready or Not ~~ @/changbeanie, ceo au

Who Are You ~~ @/changbeanie, detective au

And They were Roommates ~~ @/huenjin, enemies to lovers au🔥

Seo Changbin

Runaway ~~ @/changbeanie, mafia au

Bad at Love ~~ @/changbeanie, makeover au

Set on You ~~ @/changbeanie, enemies to lovers au

Hwang Hyunjin

Party Cup ~~ @/changbeanie

Apricity ~ @/changbeanie

Ataraxia ~~ @/changbeanie

Coffee Boy ~~ @/changbeanie, barista au

Forward in Time ~~ @/changbeanie, goryeo prince au

It’s Knot You ~~ @/changbeanie, soulmate au

Just Peachy ~~ @/changbeanie

Han Jisung

Wonderland ~~ @/changbeanie, mafia au

Kalopsia ~~ @/changbeanie, boydguard au

Lucid Dream ~~ @/changbeanie, vampire au

Resurrected ~~ @/changbeanie, zombie au

Last Chances ~~ @/hey-hey-chan, coming of age

🔥 One Time Thing ~~ @/straymusings

🔥 Public Display of Affection ~~ @/bugeater101

bloom.mp3 ~~ @/changbeanie

Prankster ~~ @/kpoppiethottie

#90 request ~~ pixieminutes, dad au

Lee Felix

Beautiful Strangers ~~ @/changbeanie

Silver Lining ~~ @/changbeanie

Roommates ~~ @/changbeanie

Beauty Within ~~ @/changbeanie

Kim Seungmin

Stay with Me ~~ @/changbeanie

Treat You Better ~~ @/changbeanie, school au

Yang Jeongin

Fractures ~~ @/changbeanie, demon au

Apartment 19 ~~ @/changbeanie

Third Wheel ~ @/changbeanie, breakup/makeup au

#stray kids #chan #leeknow #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #in #stray kids imagines #oneshots

[hexonthepeach]

a gentle tongue breaketh the bone | 23: regrets

pairing: fem hybrid fox omega!reader/hybrid Alpha!nct 127

tags: reverse harem, non-traditional omegaverse hybrid! cyberpunk au, pack dynamics, polyamory, slowburn/slowbuild, angst & hurt/comfort, heavy content warnings inc. torture, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, explicit sexual content

summary: the year is 2127. decades of eugenics and warfare have led to the rise of designated populations: the ruler Alphas and their rare, prized omegas sequestered from the Beta population. in the aftermath of the War of the Two Tigers, New Goryeo ushers in an Imperial dynasty determined not by birthright but by the alliance of the Syndicate’s clancorps to choose the best pack of your generation. you are destined to take your place within the Imperial harem as a queen, and–perhaps–Imperatrix herself

but you have a secret, written into your skin and bones–one that could easily kill you, depending on who finds it out

ten years ago you chose your Alpha and their pack in a fateful meeting

now, you must make them choose you

[masterlist & glossary] [read on AO3] [22: sated]

wc: 7k

warnings: explicit smut, foursome, mmmf (including minor m/m), D/s (A/o dynamics), kinks: master/pet, minor humiliation/degradation, cuckoldry, bulge, breeding, heat sex with omega lock, oral (m receiving), double penetration one hole (ck/fingers), pet names (princess, pet, precious, kit/baby kit)

recommended listening: clockwork - taemin

"Don't laugh."

In a long, long list of mortifying experiences this might be one of the worst, if only because of how exposed you feel, propped up on the bed, your mate asleep beneath you as you cycle through another round of excruciating pain and dulled pleasure. 

You'd managed to maneuver so you're no longer on your aching knees but seated, hiding the joining of your bodies with your legs locked together. It's little relief as Doyoung passes a washcloth over your heaving chest, clearing drips of sweat and blood.

This was not supposed to happen. Certainly not while the other two Alphas in the room try not to break down laughing at the sight of you. 

They’re failing, miserably–or perhaps not even trying to hide it, in Johnny’s case. 

Doyoung unbuttons his ruined dress shirt, lips working to hide his amusement, distracted by the sight of his own blood.  

You feel horribly that you'd gotten him, in the heat of the moment so to speak, affected by Taeyong's descent into his fox and your increasing distress. But you’d also sucked the sweetness from your fingernails when he'd left to get a fresh towel to clean you, Johnny watching you intently from his post near the door. 

Whatever you'd proven of your self-control earlier was not worth maintaining right now. You check your agent repeatedly, feeling the countdown in your head as the room goes dark, neon-stained snow drifts casting the whole scene in a gloomy iridescence. 

"We could just bring them to the meeting ground like this," Johnny says. He’s still half-naked but wearing that stupid grin that's been on his face since they'd had to negotiate heaving you together out of the nest.

"It would not help our case," Doyoung says from the bathroom. He returns with water and a street-legal painkiller for you, smoothing down your hair as you drink while you maintain deadly eye contact with the Felid.

"Cold shower? Suppressants?" Johnny offers. "Knock her out?"

You sputter your mouthful, resisting the urge to throw the glass at his head to stop his fatuous commentary. 

"It should go away on its own," Doyoung says. "Taeil says it’s common with non-traditional pair bonding. And it being her first time . . . Well. Longest recorded of your lineage was around six hours."

"Absolutely not," you say, gripping your aching head in your hands. "We don't have that time."

"Should have thought of that earlier," Johnny says. "You had all last night to start your little marathon, didn't you?"

He'd expected you to mate Taeyong as soon as possible, of course. You'd seen the impression at the end of the bed where he'd slept in his true form, curled, waiting for you to need him–his continuous offer of assistance left ignored.

No, you were still more than cross with him. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he was what you needed, or allow your hollowed-out heart the opportunity to turn away from your duty.

"Surely you have something better to do than making this worse?" you bite back. 

"Right." Johnny checks his fingernails, flexing his hand. "Are you ready to accept my help?"

"Absolutely not." You're self-conscious again, clutching your robe tighter around you.

"It's worth considering," Doyoung sighs. "If it's a matter of biology, there's something inhibiting your body from recognizing this as a completed mating cycle. Taeyong didn't claim you, did he?"

You know why he's asking, having easily seen the bruises and teeth marks indenting your body. To your credit, you think you'd given the other fox more. Doyoung cleans his mate as well, a little more expediently with him still passed out. Taeyong's reprieve looks peaceful by comparison to yours.

You shake your head. "We agreed to wait."

"There's several factors here. A deficiency of viable sperm for fertilization, and a proper knotting. Both of which can be resolved through being bred by your pairbond."

You wince, sniffing a bit. "I don't want him to mate me."

Johnny sighs.

"Then you really are in a bind, aren't you." Doyoung murmurs as he sits on the bed beside you, reaching around your middle to bring you into his shoulder and chest. You could sleep like this if you had the luxury, nestled into the soft embrace of the other Alpha with his sea-salt and herbal aura.

"Tick-tock," Johnny remarks.

You shudder, visibly. "I don't want that pig to even touch me."

Johnny’s fist thumps against the wall in his irritation. "That's a new one."

"What about Jaehyun?" you ask, glancing up at Doyoung. 

His head swings away just as another thud shakes the room, hung art pieces sliding out of place with the percussion.

"Absolutely not." 

There's a visible indentation in the wall from Johnny's fist–Doyoung sucks his breath through his teeth at the damage. 

"You want to force him in front of me, again?" Johnny asks, quietly. "Make him do what you want against his will?"

Red hazes your vision, a little more your own than the anger you feel radiating off of him. You’re sure he doesn’t really see you like that, is just using any means to narrow your selection to him, but you still feel the cruelty in that statement.

It’s just her nature.  

"Pig," you repeat. 

It would be too embarrassing to explain, anyway, you think, rubbing frustrated tears from your eyes. No, best to make sure the only people that ever knew about this were already in the room. 

"Fine, you can help me," you say. "But under one condition."

Johnny perks. 

"You knot me." You punctuate your words with a tap of your claws on your target.

Doyoung looks down at you like you've just spoken another language, eyes wide. "Me?"

"If he gets to make decisions on my behalf and against my will I would like to make him regret them," you say, rubbing your face against his shoulder while watching your mate for his reaction.

You see Doyoung breathe in through his nose, braced as if ready to bolt. He holds, turning on the bed to face you instead of Johnny.

“I thought I smelled nice to you,” you say, demurely. From his reaction he’s unimpressed by this tack.

“____, you’re playing a dangerous game right now,” he says. “Do you understand what you’re asking?”

You angle your head, displaying your neck.

"Was all that talk about Alpha duty hot air to you?" you ask, pouting. "Or maybe you don’t want to. You're not afraid of the big bad pussycat, are you?" 

Doyoung looks between you and Johnny as if he expects either one of you to suddenly explode from how intensely the Felid is staring you down. You expect it too, until you see a bright smile crack in the shadows.

"You think I'm going to regret it? Want to bet?" Johnny asks.

You maintain eye contact as well as you can as you curl into Doyoung’s hold, licking at the healed stripes of flesh beneath his collarbone. The Lepid tastes just as beautiful as he looks, a surprisingly marble-statue-like physique revealed under his clothing. 

"I'm sorry for hurting you, Alpha," you say in-between tonguing his lavender and cream skin, enjoying the little gasp he makes as you kiss his breast, moving to his slender throat as you rub your scent all over him, all the time meeting those green-glared eyes in the dark.

"Are you, though?" Doyoung asks, voice breathy.

Suddenly you're gripped by the back of your neck again, paralyzed as he pulls away to face you. There's unexpected danger in his soft features, the prey Alpha expressing disapproval with lowered brows and a sharp menthol spike in his scent. 

“No, I don't think you are,” he says. “All I see is a trapped animal that will turn on me the moment it has the chance.”

All that kindness and uncertainty is gone, Doyoung's throat bobbing as he scents you, nose wrinkling at something immeasurably lacking. He hooks your upper lip to check your fangs–an intelligent thing to do considering the saliva filling your mouth at the fresh taste of his blood. 

"You and Taeyong are two of a kind," he sighs. "But at least he's trained. You're not, are you?"

You wrestle in his grasp, submitting involuntarily.

“I thought you were supposed to be nice,” you hiss. 

"Did I give my consent for you to taste me?" Doyoung asks. 

He's trying to make you meet his eyes, fingertips embedded in your neck muscles as his thumb strokes your hairline. The movements keep the rage in your belly from boiling over. You shake your head, now more upset for having been caught overstepping. 

“Look at me, ____.”

The hare’s eyes are brighter, their darkness hazel-touched. He should be afraid of you, bowing to your mercy. You’d expected him to speak sweet lies into your ear to make you compliant, but you're met with the gaze of a wolf instead. 

A Kim, indeed. 

Doyoung doesn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest by your personality change, lashes falling as he scans your face and your fisted hands.

"Given enough time we could break you in properly but I'm afraid we'll just have to operate under the assumption that you'll behave if you know what's good for you, won’t you, gongjunim?"

You nod, dumbfounded. 

"Say it," he says, no less a command for how willingly you comply. 

"Yes, Alpha."

"Are you going to do exactly what I tell you to do?"

You hesitate long enough he squeezes a little harder to subdue you, making your ears fold down autonomically.

"Yes, Alpha," you repeat. 

"Do you think it's acceptable to use your teeth and claws without permission?" 

"No, Alpha."

"You want to bite me like you did him?" He forces your head down towards your unconscious mate with the barest gesture. No, his mate. Of course he would be upset you’d hurt him again–what had he said? 

The next time you lay a claw on him, you’ll get like for like.

You whimper a bit remembering the threat, tail twitching, trying to escape even as your cunt twitches around the cock inside you with agonizing need.

“No, no. Never,” you add. You look at Johnny to see if he's going to continue to allow this handling, head yanked back so quickly you let out a yelp. From the corner of your eye you can see the big man rocking with suppressed laughter, entirely unfazed.

"You follow my orders, not his," Doyoung tsks, pushing you down into a crouch.

“An Alpha only provides care to an omega who is willing to submit and please him in turn, not try to devour him, or overpower him.” His hand moves down your back, fingertips tracing the scratches Taeyong had given you, beneath the ruined silk. 

“Are you truly a princess? Or are you just a feral stray who bites the hand that feeds her?” 

It should be humiliating to hear yourself referred to so lowly but there's almost something comforting about playing your designated role right now. Gods knew you needed someone to take charge and release you from this bind. However furious you are at the indignity you’re also desperate to be free.

“I’ll be good, Alpha,” you whisper into your knees. 

"Prove it. Earn what you've requested.” You feel Doyoung bend down to ghost your neck with a kiss, a promise written in the press of his lips that has you trembling again, for entirely different reasons.

"Yes, master." You venture, peering up. You catch him smoothing away an unconscious smile as he stands, brushing his pants clean of the white guard hairs from your tail.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Johnny asks. 

"We just need to get your cum inside her somehow," he says, catching your surprised expression and shaking his head firmly. “Indirectly, of course. We could get Taeil to bring us a needleless syringe–”

“No!” You sit up, dizzy from the context switch, no longer relaxed but terrified.

“Anything but that, please,” you beg the two men standing over you. “I’ll shove it in myself if I need to.”

Doyoung sighs. "Taeyong needs to be awake, then, I don't want to risk injuring him." 

"I can keep him controlled," you say, forgetting yourself. Both of the Alphas look at you measurably, Johnny turning to watch his partner's reaction with an amused smile.

"Did I ask you to?" Doyoung asks, deadly quiet after. 

"I didn’t mean–" you begin. 

"Do you truly want to integrate into this pack?" 

"Yes, Alpha," you say, bitterly. “I just meant–”

"Then hold your tongue or we’ll find something to fill that pretty mouth of yours."  

You close your lips, bowing your head automatically to hide the look you know is on your face–aghast but intensely aroused at the thought of being given what you want as a punishment. It's excruciating feeling your body continue to tighten at the anticipation, oozing slick. Taeyong jerks beneath you, letting out a small noise in his sleep.

“You take care of her, I'll take care of him," Johnny says. You meet his eyes, registering how confident he looks as he approaches. "Wouldn't want to waste the opportunity to show her what she's missing." 

You may be the architect of your current defeat but you promise him with a look you’ll find a way for him to go down with you. 

“Don’t goad her–” Doyoung says, but Johnny ignores him, sliding on to the bed beside Taeyong, purposefully avoiding skin contact with you. A firebrand of jealousy pierces you at the sight, igniting further in your chest as he pulls the smaller man into his side, enthroning himself at the head of the bed.

"Sure you don’t want to switch places?" Johnny asks, softly, face dipping into Taeyong's wild hair. The foxes' ears tic in his sleep, moreso when he brushes his mouth across them.

“Stop,” Doyoung warns. 

You feel the Lepid’s slender arms tighten around you, soft cheek pressed to yours as he helps you adjust. Johnny’s only a few feet away, but still too close, especially as he hoists Taeyong’s body–and by extension yours–onto him.

Doyoung grips your thighs in turn to keep you upright, similar to how they'd carried you earlier, tail pressed into an arc against the Lepid’s cool skin. 

“Are you shy, pet?” He whispers, trying to gently prise your closed legs apart. “Ignore him or he'll keep toying with you.”

You try, you do, but a whine erupts out of you the moment Johnny's lips brush against Taeyong's exposed throat, tongue drawn across the yellow and purple bruising from your marks.

You can barely hear the order Johnny gives him over your own pathetic whinging, watching Taeyong blink awake. He's not as wild-eyed as before, the opposite actually–relaxed and languid, ears up and eyes closed as he accepts the grooming. 

Johnny looks at you as he licks against the corner of Taeyong's mouth, bent head hiding a deeper display of affection. You hiss when the other fox's hips rut beneath you, your vision blurring.

“I can’t, I can’t–” you murmur.  

You brace for Doyoung to punish you but he consoles you instead.

"Shh," Doyoung says, rubbing your head and your spine as you close your eyes against the sight of your mate caring for someone who is not you. "Relax for me." 

"It hurts," you keen, not referring to the pain inside you as much as your fox crying out to be treated the same, loved the same. How pathetic, you think, but it can’t be helped. You’d spent a lifetime longing for that affection. Tears escape from your clenched eyelids, trying to turn to bury your face in the Lepid's chest like it's your only escape. 

"I can't stand him," you whisper.

"I know," Doyoung says, much more softly. “But you need to let him take care of you.”

“I’m afraid,” you admit. 

“He won’t hurt you–”

“No.” You interrupt him, exhaling shakily. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to say no.”

“Oh.” Doyoung looks up, shaking his head. “Do you think it would be easier if you didn’t have to see him?”

You nod, tears wiped away by his sleeve. You feel Doyoung slide the loose sash hanging from your waist, wrapping it over your already-closed eyes. You begin to nervously shake again when the light behind your eyelids is blotted out completely.

"Hey, it's alright," Taeyong urges you, drowsily nudging your cheek with his nose. You accept his gentle kisses, sharing the taste of your mate on his bruised lips. “I’m here. Well, mostly. I think if I come again I'll dissolve into dust.”

You laugh a little against his mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

You can feel his amusement, not expecting the caress of his rougher hands sliding your clothing off, followed by his soft kisses and the roll of his face on your shoulder to mark you with his scent. 

“I'm not. If I ever get a chance to be this close to you again,” Taeyong breathes, “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

You sigh in relief, holding him as he comforts you. He's still exhausted, but at least you think he isn't in pain the way you are, just sore and satisfied. 

“She’s a gift, isn’t she?” Doyoung says. You hear rustling as he removes his shirt, expecting more until your tail is seized and drawn around your middle, out of the way. “Someday we won’t have to share you. But I think you like it, don’t you, pet?”

His voice is fricative in your ear, removing your robe fully so he can bring your back against his warm, lean chest. Even smooth it feels like the softest fur beneath you, Taeyong's ears tickling your jaw as he whines into your neck. From the movements against you he's receiving his own handling, thighs flexing as Johnny adjusts him.

"Yes, Alpha," you say, arching back. Doyoung follows your lead, kissing you chastely until you plead for more. 

“We'll do this properly when we have the time. Right now you're going to give your Alphas what they need, won’t you?”

You’ll never think of him as weak again, you think, not with how he opens your legs and pushes his fingertips experimentally against the constriction where you’re tied together, Taeyong holding onto you as you both cry out.

“Too tight,” Taeyong mumbles for the both of you. Doyoung squeezes him around his root, palm digging into your folds.

“You’re knotted, too,” he says with an edge of disapproval. “Just a greedy little dog rutting into your bitch even if you can’t properly breed her.”

By the answering spurt of release inside you and his groan, Taeyong enjoys that kind of talk. The sensation is translated to you, hips wriggling until Doyoung pinches at the bundle of nerves in your swollen sex, making you jerk.

“You’re going to take it, too, even if it hurts,” he says. “We’ll loosen you up for a real knot, so I can fuck your Alpha’s cum into you.”

“Please, master,” you say, losing yourself. “Please, give it to me.”   

“It’s not my choice, pet.” You feel your hand seized, your fingers splayed on a firm, wide chest that isn’t Taeyong’s, sunbaked pine sharp in your nose. “Use him. Make him give you what you need.”

"No, no, I can't," you murmur, pushed towards the inevitable. 

"You're better than your animal," Doyoung says. "Do what you’re told and we'll show you what it means to be treasured."

You feel him pull away, extricating Taeyong from your breast in a way that upends you both, forced into your Alpha’s lap. Even if you can’t see it you can feel and hear the man trapped inside you held down to the bed, the soft pleas as he’s cared for in the way you need more than anything.

Johnny’s hand cups the side of your face. Only he can touch you that way–like he's cradling the most fragile thing he’s ever held.

"Don't worry, little kit," Johnny says, so close now his breath warms your ears. "I remember my promise.”

He takes you by the neck more gently just to angle you up, dipping down to kiss you as softly and shyly as before. He’s exactly what you need while also the worst thing possible, the longing and heartache amplified. 

“I can wait. Just use me. Pretend I’m giving you what you need.”

The thought of him breeding you sends you down a spiral of desire, restraining yourself by blindly tracing the white and gold and green painted under your fingertips. You’ve tried not to look too much at the design but it’s already tattooed in your heart and mind, as it is over his.

“Would you like to see what’s yours?”

You pull your hand back but he catches it with that Felid swiftness, dragging it lightly down the center point of his breast bone and the contours of his abdominal muscles, defined and damp with sweat. He lets you feel everything you'd disallowed yourself before, breath going ragged when you finally cup him through his trousers.

"Stop being so smug," you whisper, unable to sound serious with how heavy you're breathing, too. His shape and scent is all you need to find yourself just as feral as you'd been in the nest, fumbling to unzip him, his hand wrapping around yours to guide you as you free his cock.

He’s erect but weighed down so much it hangs towards the bed. You're not afraid or disgusted as much as fascinated when your hand traces down the burning-hot, velvety shaft, finding the expected roughness beneath his glans.

“I’m allowed to be pleased. I know–feel how much you want it.” He sounds almost embarrassed; you realize he's stuttering with each pass of your hand down his length. “Is it too much for you?”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” 

"No," he gasps when you squeeze him, testing him. “Fuck, yes.”

He's bigger than you imagined, thick enough his knot is less pronounced than a Canid's at his base, gently ridged at the end of his shaft. You expect his barbs but beneath your searching touch you find them less pronounced, more textured like his cat's tongue without the same density of spines. 

“I want to taste you,” you say.

You can’t see his expression but you know his sense of control has been obliterated by the request. You don't wait for him to argue, bending down to find him with your mouth, lapping up gamey salt from his skin. His tense hand in your hair is all the encouragement you require.

You will use him, you think. You'll break him as much as he's broken you. But you won't be slow, you won't seduce him the way he has tried with you. 

You dip your head and find the heavy tip, suckling to taste the dribble of hot liquid already leaking from it. He’s so perfectly bittersweet that you can’t help but wrap your lips around it, trying to draw out the rest. Johnny's hold on your head spreads and clings, not wanting to push you forward despite the rut of his hips into your mouth. 

You treat him the way he had you the night he tasted you, smiling to yourself as drool seeps from the corners of your mouth, taking as much of him into your willing throat as you can handle. Within seconds you’re coughing at the sandpaper scratch, pulled free before you can mutilate him with your canines.

“No teeth,” Doyoung warns, startling you for how much you’ve forgotten he’s beside you. “Gently now. Relax your jaw. Don’t worry about making a mess.”

Simple enough instructions, difficult for how suffocated you are when you impale yourself on that length again, fighting the choke. Doyoung murmurs praise where your Alpha is inarticulate. Johnny’s presence glows in your mind as you feel him completely, all his attempts to keep the spend contained within him lost as you fuck him this way.

You sense when his abdomen and testicles tighten, reaching out to understand it with a careful slide of your hand down his shaft, hair and texture and scent incredible under your delicate fingers. You hold him as you take him, as you consume him the way he’s consumed you.

You listen for his grunts and groans of pleasure, the intake of breath, alternating between sucking and drawing your tongue around him as his lean belly flexes beneath the gentle flex of your nails. When you feel that wave crest inside him, so close to breaking, you pull off.

Again, and again.

You’d learned your new lessons well, you think, when the last tease of his heavy weight on your tongue coats it in a hot citrusy, mouthful of him–the rest trapped so painfully inside him you feel his thighs quake under your breasts.

The makeshift blindfold is tugged from your eyes, There’s murder in your gaze lest Johnny’s the one who took it off, but you find Doyoung’s hand against your hair and ears, his face flushed with arousal. Watching that must have done something to him, because he’s no longer attending Taeyong, his hand working himself out of view. The other fox appears to be semi-conscious, only a crack of his eyes showing.

“You have to see what you’ve done to him,” Doyoung says.

You peer up past all that honey, glistening skin to your Alpha’s face. Johnny’s breath is held where he’s fallen back against the headboard, expression completely and utterly shattered. For the first time since he’d held you in the dark–not this bedroom but a tiled room far below it–you see him as he really is.

There’s nothing calculating or cutting in that half-lidded gaze, no raging animal. Just a man who needs you more than he could ever tell you. 

Your Alpha. 

Completely at your mercy. 

“Nothing clever to say, now?” you ask, tongue catching another spurt of white hanging from his thick cockhead, teasing the soft slit to gather every drop. “Did I ruin you for everyone else?”

"I’m not coming in your mouth, precious,” he says with the last reason left in him. He gives Doyoung a look that has your head pulled back, gently but firmly, even as your tongue curls towards your mate’s cock. You know why he hasn’t grabbed you, his own claws ripping the duvet into shreds once more.

“Why not?" you ask, tail thumping against Taeyong’s limp legs. "I can just spit it out."

Doyoung barks a laugh, falling further onto his side. “You’re so fucked.”

You know it isn't for you as Johnny struggles to sit up, pulling his cock away from your greedy hands and mouth. His sweat-thick, curled hair hangs over his face and jaw, making him look wild.

“The only place I’m coming is all over that pretty pussy,” he warns. “Present yourself." 

Part of you resists the order but you know it's not made with anything but the desire to please you. You melt under the attention, arching your back and curling your tail for him when he takes his place behind you.

"Outside, of course," he assures you, and you have a moment to freeze up in fear before he's slipped his cock between your thighs, shaft so long that even from behind and forced to the side he curves up between your folds. He lets you adjust to the feeling, wrapping around you until you're caged by his long torso and limbs.

"You feel that?" He rocks his hips into your behind, your tail trapped erect between you. 

You bite your lip, nodding. 

"That's yours. Yours to use as you want, whenever you want."

He licks the soft fur of your ear, making your pussy clench again around Taeyong, your legs closing around him.

"I’m going to show you what it will be like when I take what's mine, once and for all."

His words scald you, make you whimper and grind against him until he takes the lead, moving with shallow and careful strokes against your slipperiness. Soon he's so coated with your slick the glide between your soft thighs is dangerously easy, the small nudges and bumps against your clit maddening. The worst is that tongue-like texture, catching against your most sensitive places to remind you what he really is.

"Is my little kit so needy for her Alpha's cock inside her she'd ride it raw? You want me to fuck you unsleeved and scrape out all that wasted cum you let the others stuff inside you?" 

Ancestors, you think. He's such a contradiction in the way he can hold you and stroke you so sweetly but pour filth into your ear.

“I don’t think I have enough inside me, yet,” you whimper. “Need more.” 

His jealousy is just as pervasive through the bond. That anger and pride under any other circumstances would make your own flare but in this moment it's the perfect accompaniment to the desire he has for you. 

You belong to him, torturing him at how soft and good and warm he knows you are inside, how impossible it would be to deny himself that if he wasn’t moderated by your promise or the other Alphas watching him unravel so easily. You know he’s fucked them, feels comfortable with them, but they’re not what he wants. 

He wants you, just you. If you gave it to him he wouldn’t let anyone else touch you, he would mark his territory so fully he’d fight every Alpha on the peninsula to stake his claim. You know it as well as he does, he would die for you. You wouldn’t even have to ask. 

"They can't breed you like I can, can they?" he says between higher-pitched groans. You're not meant to answer but you do anyway, wanting to brush his cat's fur backwards to see how he responds.

"You'll find out soon enough," you murmur, lost as he brings his hand down to hold himself against the drive into your folds, increasing the pressure of his tip against your bud. 

He nips at your ear. "What did you say, little kit?" 

Your little cries are growing louder as your body seizes, the beginning of another climax burning brushfire through you.

"I said, 'I'm not letting you fuck me until I've had every one of your pack inside me.'"

He jerks a bit, pushing into the tight grip of your thighs. You’ve closed around him, trapping him like Taeyong, hands tearing into the bed where he’s ruined it. 

"You can try,” he says, dangerously.

"You think they won't?” you pant. "I'll let you watch, of course." 

His movements are growing more staccato as he chases his own release, tense hand holding his thrusts against you. The more near his climax the more his hold on his emotions begins to slip, the barriers you'd both enacted temporarily flooded with something other than resentment and animal desire. 

You have an epiphany of sorts, mercilessly pushed into Taeyong's chest as he chases a fantasy in his mind of fucking you like this in front of them all to prove his claim, to show how broken you are for anyone else. 

"I'm going to make you prove you're my Alpha," you whisper to him. "No combat. No bloodsport. No convenient opportunity. You'll earn it." 

He bucks, hard, a wash of hot spend coating you as he starts to orgasm, snarling your name into something monstrous. 

"You're going to suffer, Suh Youngho," you say, grinding back into the mess he's holding to you, edged to the point of fierceness. "You're going to know what it’s like to have your mate reject you and seek another in your stead."

His movements still but you realize he's laughing quietly, knot swelling between your thighs. He doesn't believe you, of course. How could you, with you still rubbing against him, unsatisfied.

"Oh baby fox, were you jealous?" With his cock no longer pressed to you he begins to circle your clit, his other hand massaging his hot spend into you from behind, still more oozing out of him he collects to press against your stuffed hole. At the first brush of the rough pads of his fingers, you're pushing back, trying to make him fit.

"You think I would rather fuck anyone else than the first to claim me? My omega? My mate?" 

He broaches your lock with two digits, shoving his cum deep into you as Taeyong cries out faintly against the intrusion.  

“Let him go,” Johnny says. “Let him go or you won't be able to fit me.” 

Powerful contractions begin to roll through you immediately, no longer painfully tight but a rolling release that spreads through every part of your legs and hips and belly, nerves and hormones synchronized to take your mate as deeply as you can, into your womb. It feels incredible, electricity running down every path through your limbs to the top of your scalp and the claws on your toes.

“You're squeezing us so good, kit, want to feel it on me.”

Slick and thick spend gush down your legs as Taeyong is finally freed, an audible noise when he’s pulled from your snare. Doyoung is there to help him escape because Johnny shows no intention of stopping and neither do you, fucking yourself on your mate's fingers until he adds a third and fourth digit.

Your body is being prepared for him, you think, your orgasm extended by how much you want him to fuck you even knowing what that would entail.

"Don't stop, don't stop," you beg, rocking back to fuck yourself deeper on his hand.

"You're going to suffer every day you're not getting all of me." His words are punctuated by stroking into the sucking heat of your body, his bruising touch on your clit turning you into a live wire once more. 

"It will hurt me to see you so desperate. I'll have to turn you down even when you beg me. But if that's what my little omega wants, that's what I'll give her," he promises.

"I hate you," you snarl, overstimulated, winding into another build too quickly to make sense. He makes you relax by nipping at your shoulder, keeping you still as he sets a punishing pace. 

"Imagine. You could be coming on my cock right now, milking me of every last drop to fill you up," he says. "Don't you want your Alpha's cum inside you?"

"Yes, please, fuck it into me, please Alpha," you sob, jerking as he pulls his fingers away to press his tip against your fluttering hole and pull another wash of sticky heat inside you. That hint of the stretch of him has you demanding more, your hips canting back just as your mouth is clamped shut with slender fingers.

“That's enough,” Doyoung says. Out of the haze of the moment you can feel his hand wrapped around your Alpha’s cock, stopping you–or maybe him–from moving any further. You turn to watch Johnny thrust into the other man’s hold, taunting him to try and stop either of you. 

The Lepid only has eyes for you, letting you go but not your mate. He’s calm, measured, as he strokes Johnny into releasing more onto his chest when his cock is lifted away from you. You turn to observe it, leaning down to take what you can in your mouth.

Doyoung warns you off by clearing his throat.

“No,” he says. “Ride his knot.”

You shake your head, legs already collapsed beneath you. “I can’t.”

“Show her still you’re in control. Thank her for the gift she’s given you.” 

Johnny understands even if you don’t. You’re swept up in his hold, pulled down onto him, spread for him. But where he should be filling you he’s trapped between your bodies, your legs limp over his.

“What . . .?” Your vision blackens on the edges, nose buried in Johnny’s chest. “I can’t.”

“You will,” Johnny says.

“You will,” Doyoung repeats, holding your lower back to fuck into you with one clean push into your loose heat, no fight whatsoever with the amount of cum inside you. You cry out, held tight against your Alpha as a much longer, thicker cock than the one that’s been inside you for the past few hours is shoved mercilessly into your hole–knot slipping in without friction while another one grinds into your middle.

“Fuck,” Doyoung rasps when he pulls out, burying himself over and over again. If you weren’t held in Johnny’s arms you think you’d be fucked right off the end of the bed, instead forced into his arms, too boneless and weightless to struggle. 

“You asked for it,” he says, the rumble of his voice vibrating through you against the sharpness of your half-hearted yelps. “Regret it now?”

You toss your head, regaining your strength to reach for him, burying your fingers in his hair. He’s so big you find yourself perched across his sternum, hips rolled into it and the coarse end of his cock as he curls up and kisses you like he’s the one inside you, like he’s the one coming undone. 

From what you can tell you all are, Doyoung holding back nothing as he ruts into you so hard you can feel and hear the slick-stuck slap of him against you, or Johnny, it doesn’t matter with your bonded clutching at you like he might lose you. His hand threads through your wild hair to cup your jaw again, guiding you gently against his lips and tongue.

You moan into his mouth, protesting this new intimacy. You want to focus on the other Alpha and please him in turn so you can prove your resolve. You know he’d already come the moment he was in you as Lepids were wont to do but that he had more to give you–much more, if the knot stretching you is any indication.

You reach back to find Doyoung's damp nape to pull him to your neck. He understands, implicitly, fisting your hair to scrape you with his teeth as Johnny angles into your other shoulder to prove he's first, hesitating with his tongue on your scars when the other Alpha lets out a low growl. 

You can feel Johnny rumble beneath you as he returns to kissing you, passion conferred in each brush of his lips against your own, holding you steady in his gaze. Another Alpha's teeth may be indented in your neck, but you're still at his mercy.

“You take my knot so well,” he praises, sinking his fingers into your hips. Doyoung, no longer able to guide you, chooses instead to circle up against your behind and your slick-coated tail like you’re a wall he can break through.

“Do you want to take all of me, little kit?” Johnny whispers.  

Your body responds as if it were his threatening to lock you again, making you mewl. You know what he's saying, implicitly. He doesn't understand how it affects you. How could he, when he thinks this is just a game?

Johnny’s thumb spreads beneath your belly, indenting it to feel the cock dragging deep within you, bulging there under his touch. Doyoung inhales against your neck at the sensation, feeling it too in whatever way you respond deep inside.

“Yes,” you breathe, building tension making you seize. "Please."

Johnny looks deep into your eyes, pinning you with an emotion you want to look away from, but can't. You're forced to see all that's there, to bloom within it, like the flowers under your palm. Your shape etched into him: Nelumbo lutea, reaching for the sun.

"Accept me," he urges.

You can't.

"I'm yours," he says.

Not your mine, no. Yours.

You collapse as you begin to throb, pulse-like. It’s not the same horrible tightening as before but something different, a twinge and tremor in your womb that seems to signal completion.

You know your scent will change, your body will adjust. Your heat will break. But you’ll never be the same.  

Doyoung says something you can't hear as you chase the fleeting ecstacy of this new release, different in so many ways but most of all for the ease in your chest as you rest on top of the man you love.

Love?

No. It's not possible.

“You’re so full of me already but I know you want more.” Johnny continues, not realizing you're gone. He should sound confident but his voice is raw with vulnerability. His head pushes against yours, pleading. “You can’t leave me. You won’t leave me. Not when you’re swollen with my–”

You scream soundlessly into him, enough of a high-pitched keen in your throat he can’t help but be startled, Doyoung stilling inside you as you break completely around him–all that pleasure tempered with unadulterated despair.

It should be peace, a relief, but instead it’s an instability in the levee holding everything else inside you at bay.

There’s no peak to climb down from in the aftermath of what’s moved through you, your only comfort is how much of a blessing it is to be held while you spiral–how afraid you are of losing something you didn't even knew you had.

"____?"

You feel the panic around you at your reaction, hear Taeyong’s growl as he sits up behind you. Doyoung is already at his side, as if he must protect him from whatever is inside you threatening to break out.

“I told you." Your fist clenches against Johnny’s chest as you roll off of him. “I told you I couldn’t.”

“What’s wrong?! What happened.”

You curl into a ball, defending yourself with your tail wrapped around you. "It's over."

You’d had your moment, your fill, but it would never be enough. Not now, not ever.

"Your heat?"

You don't answer.

"They're early," Taeyong explains.

Johnny finally turns to witness what’s been roaring in your ears for what feels like minutes now.

You watch as the snow swirling outside the window vanishes, pushed down by quiet blades to evaporate on an even warmer wind. Blue lights pierce the gloom, angled downward, blinding you through the dark, one-way glass.

The building begins to tremble, smaller vibrations translated upwards as AVs circle round below. They give a wide berth to an airship, blacker than a starless night and larger than a city block as it descends in a creep past the window, thankfully unable to pierce through the building's surface to see you so exposed. 

It doesn't matter. Nothing can escape the surveillance of the people inside. It's only the second time they'd sent this means to bring you home, a symbolic gesture but also a threat.

There's no escaping your return to Old Seoul.

“The Imperial aerostat,” Doyoung sighs, checking his agent as he flees the bed.

“It’s time,” Taeyong says, looking at you with a deep sympathy and resolve.

You turn to Johnny, seeing a wetness on his cheek that can only be an acknowledgment of whatever you’ve let slip through the cracks of your bond.

You try to capture that image in your mind of him more worried for you than the threat of the fleet surrounding their headquarters, for the people inside. It's the last time you ever want to see it.

“I’m ready,” you say.

Inside, you know you never will be.

[previous] [next] [check the masterlist before you proceed]

#agtbtb #nct 127 fic #nct fic #nct fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 smut #nct johnny smut #johnny suh smut #doyoung smut #kim doyoung smut #nct omegaverse au #nct cyberpunk au #nct smut #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader

[gidaryeong]

Six Flying Dragons episode 7 and 8

I’m sure teacher-nim will be happy to find that you’ve snuck into his secret lair and made a complete mess of it, Bang-won-ah

Fake monk and gibang headmistress have 100% fucked sometime in the past and you won’t convince me otherwise

SCREAMED at this scene!!! NINJA GIRLS!!!!

My GooMin rotted brain: “height difference”

My GooMin rotted brain: “Goryeo AU”

Fuck but the boy can act. Yoo Ah-in you deserved that Baeksang for this scene alone.

(I also love that Bang-won essentially said “Boon-yi should be king” in this episode because same.)

#six flying dragons #my sfd tag

[whencyclopedfr]

Royaume de Goryeo

Le royaume de Goryeo (ou Koryo) régna sur la Corée de 918 à 1392. Le royaume connut un essor culturel et artistique sans précédent, avec des développements dans les domaines de l'architecture, de la céramique, de l'imprimerie et de la papeterie. Le royaume fut envahi à plusieurs reprises par les Mongols au 13e siècle et devint par la suite moins indépendant et plus influencé culturellement par ses voisins du nord. Koryo est à l'origine du nom moderne de la Corée .

Lire la suite...

#Histoire #TaejoDeGoryeo #SamgukYusa #SamgukSagi

[liashinigami]

........so....I had another unplanned 4h deepdive for my AU research....I am nowhere near finished but at least now I know way more than before about Big Dipper worship in Joseon?? that has to count for something right??

No but seriously there is like shockingly little info on big dipper worship in Joseon considering that it was like one of the most popular Daoist, Shamanist AND Buddhist deities for the entirety of the dynasty....like?? If I want infos from a Daoist perspective do I really have to go look up that one book from 1998 that talks about it in one chapter to get better info than the one I now got from some barebones buddhist sources? Like....I cannot believe that about half of my notes on this are from a journal article about Daoist influences on Goryeo celadon designs...

#why can't I ever commit to things more half-assed #like....I am not even trying to build a joseon era based story here #all of this is just for cultural padding of a modern cultivation au #bc my brain was like 'I can't just make up shit if I wanna include big dipper worship for this daoist sect' #personal shit

[skzsauce01]

Written in the Stars

Synopsis: Tonight you find out the reason for your recurring dreams and the mysterious man who keeps who appearing in them. College AU and Goryeo Dynasty AU in a Reincarnation AU trench coat. Historical accuracy not guaranteed.

Warning: none

Word Count: 5.8k

Pairing: fem!reader x Seo Changbin; friends!TWICE

You don’t think you have seen this many stars at night before. The great fabric of the sky has dozens of needle pricks of light, some woven with thread to create constellations, others shining unabashedly alone. They are all so bright. Perhaps too bright for your liking. Out of fear that you will be seen, you hide your face with your sleeve, running and ducking through the palace grounds. The hanging lanterns outside the buildings glow steadily as they watch you sneak to the bath.

The guards don’t know about the secret exit behind the bathing pool. You wouldn’t have known about it yourself until that fateful day when you followed a baby squirrel through the small tunnel and found yourself on the other side of the high stone walls. Now you squeeze through the same tunnel, nearly tripping on a loose rock when you hear a wolf howl. There was a hunt today; why is there still one around?

You step into the small patch of forest. Weaving through the trees and making your way to the vast field bordering the neighboring kingdom is simple. After all, you have done it countless times and during moonless nights as well. The difficult part is finding your beloved hiding among the tall grasses. He likes to lie on the ground like a snake, attacking your ankles with an outstretched hand and pulling you to him. It is a game you don’t typically don’t mind playing, but tonight is different.

Yet it is not. After only twenty paces, you feel yourself falling and then being caught by a pair of strong arms. You land on his chest. You toss your hair back like a horse to its mane, making him laugh, and stare down at him.

He smiles at you, the curve of his mouth reminiscent of the crescent moon. “I win.”

“I let you win.”

“Princesses shouldn’t lie.”

“And princes should be courteous and let the princesses win.” You thumb his cheekbone. The stars shimmer in his eyes, or perhaps those are tears. You were fools to think that something like this would last. Young, dumb, and too deeply in love to see the truth. “You’re a scoundrel.”

“If I were, things would have been different.” His words hang over you, clouding your head with the thoughts of what it could have been. He wouldn’t have to marry for politics. You wouldn’t have to marry for politics. It is only just so that he is to be wedded first, to the daughter of a noble family with plentiful rice fields. A favorite of the court, you heard. It is only just so that you are the daughter of an enemy kingdom. A marriage alliance wouldn’t be enough to erase the decades of history and bloodshed.

“The astronomer promised me an undying love,” you whisper. “He said that my star was always moving toward another one and that other star was moving towards mine.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Only if it’s about you.”

He smiles again before laying his head on the ground, looking to the sky above. “My kingdom’s astronomer said that I would be the greatest king alive and end the war. He also said that my star was rising higher and higher, shining brighter and brighter.”

You ask him the same question he asked.

“I hope my star is going to you,” he whispers. He holds you tighter, his fingers grasping the linen tie around your waist. “I don’t care about being the greatest king. I only want you. Why were we fated like this?”

“Only the heavens know.”

“Promise me you’ll wait for me.” He brings his hand to your face, brushing the unruly tendrils from your forehead. His fingers are rough from years of holding reins and swords, but his touch is gentle. “Even if it takes a thousand years, I will find you again.”

“I promise.”

Then he kisses you like the stars are going to go out.

You wake up gasping like you have just been thoroughly kissed, your lips throbbing with a pulsing heat. This is the seventh time you’ve had this particular dream but the first time that he has kissed you. The previous six times you have woken up before. You still don’t know his name or remember his face, but there is something about this dream man that you conjured up that is so deeply familiar.

For the past month, you’ve been having the same sequence of dreams so tightly woven, you would almost believe that they were actual events of your life. You are there, dressed in lavish silk robes and silver hairpins, walking across stone courtyards surrounded by wooden structures, being served tea by a quiet servant. There are rituals for rain and parties for birthdays. There is a king and a queen, and a prince that you cannot have. Even the minute details are not easily forgotten — the grainy texture of the parchment you used to copy poems, the smell of the moonlit river, the intricate embroidered fish on ceremonial robes. Never have your dreams been so vivid, so painted with the life of imaginary strangers.

A series of knocks — Mina always does seven, whether she knows it or not — snaps you out of your haze. “Are you up yet? We’re leaving in an hour.”

“I’m up,” you say, pulling your covers off but still lying in bed.

“One hour, okay? If we get stuck in traffic and show up late, Nayeon’s going to be mad.”

“Got it.”

You hear Mina leave. When you peek behind your window curtains, the sun is setting, streaking yellow and orange across the sky. It was early afternoon when you decided to take a nap. You sigh and stumble to your closet. The mirror on the sliding door reveals that your dark circles are still present and that your lips are a little swollen, probably from your recovering sunburn. Not necessarily a bad thing, the swollen lips, but mildly confusing after your dream.

You take the pink dress off its hanger and absentmindedly undress and dress yourself. Nayeon’s birthday dinner is at some new restaurant that you know is going to be expensive just because of its pretentious name. Well, she’s paying for everything, so you don’t mind that part, but you know that you will be perching on the fancy chairs and contemplating whether you should text your astronomy lab partner to pick you up early.

That’s the fun thing about tonight: you have a friend’s birthday party to attend and a presentation at the local observatory to go to if you want extra credit. With midterms around the corner, you are pretty much obligated to go. Thank goodness Changbin is willing to drive you from the restaurant to the observatory. Nayeon, who knows about your packed schedule tonight and fancies herself a matchmaker, thinks that Changbin has a crush on you. Mina, who has observed you coming home from your lab with a smile too happy for 11 PM, thinks that it’s the other way around. And you are the only one who thinks that a relationship with your lab partner is a conflict of interest when the semester is not even halfway finished.

You finish your hair and makeup in the bathroom, listening to the city pop songs Mina is playing from her room. You hear her hum along, pausing when she forgets the melody. Changbin prefers rap. He likes to show off sometimes too, turning up the radio volume and rapping along for his audience of one. When you offhandedly mentioned this to your friends, you had to explain how you ended up in Changbin’s car in the first place.

(Pizza, the answer is pizza. You were hungry, he was hungry, and the good pizza place was still open. Sorry to disappoint you, conniving friends.)

The hour is finally up, and you throw in all of your necessities in a purse that vaguely complements your dress. Nayeon’s birthday present, a dainty silver necklace with butterfly charm, is tucked safely away inside as well. Mina is driving, so she leaves her heels with you in the passenger seat and pulls out of the parking space with practiced skill. You’re initially in charge of navigation, but Mina takes that job away from you when you begin to doze off.

“Are you feeling okay? You’ve been really sleepy lately.”

“It’s my lab.” And those weird dreams. They’re exhausting to have, like your brain spent all of its energy forging that perfect world instead of resting.

“You can take a twenty minute nap. I’ll wake you up when we’re almost there.”

You’re asleep before she can even finish her sentence.

You hear the news of an enemy kingdom’s marriage during a meal with your father, the king. It is a delicious meal of pork and fresh vegetables, but the food tastes like stone, no matter how many new pieces you try. Your father discusses the details of the wedding ceremony in a controlled rage, scoffing at the prince’s blue robes and the bride’s crimson one. Not a single butterfly on the bride’s wedding overcoat, he laughed.

“They say that they uphold tradition, but they forget one of the most common symbols of longevity. For a royal marriage too! They are doomed.”

You only nod as the rest of his words become cicada chirps to your ears. With the most placid face you can muster, you wave over a servant for a drink. You watch as she pours chrysanthemum tea, her hands shaking as she holds the cup out to you. She must be one of the new girls; you don’t remember seeing her face around.

You reach for the cup, your fingers curling around the middle. Her hands tremble when you lift the cup, and yours do as well.

“Princess, it is time for you to get married as well.”

The cup shatters onto the stone ground, tea splattering onto your yellow skirt.

As promised, Mina wakes you up, though she likely didn’t need to when you jolt awake from the sound of breaking ceramic. You breathe heavily, holding onto your heart with shaking hands as you check to ensure that the floor of Mina’s car isn’t stained with tea. Her shoes are still immaculate, and your own heels are clean too. Mina is too busy trying to find a parking spot to notice how distraught you are.

This is the third time you have had this dream. It always ends with the cup being dropped, but the sound of it is so clear this time. It echoes, it rings, it ricochets. The initial impact is the loudest, earth against earth, and then comes the deafening silence as everyone takes in the accident.

You whisper a swear and lean back into your seat. The sky is getting darker now, the moon glowing brighter against the sky. Only a smattering of stars are present, but you don’t doubt that there will be more.

After Mina parks the car and switches her shoes, the two of you walk into the restaurant, up a flight of stairs to the private room on the second floor. Full-length windows cover the walls, and you watch your reflection follow Mina down the scarlet carpet. The restaurant is on a hill, so you can see the city below, street lights and illuminated windows shining like little beacons, like faraway stars. Your throat suddenly goes dry.

“Happy birthday!” Mina says, and you realize that you’ve arrived at Nayeon’s party. Nayeon, with a pale blue sash and a silver tiara, is at the head of the table, a row of matching silver balloons floating above her. The also-matching silverware on the white tablecloth glints underneath the lights, and the sparkling glasses look like they might break with a single touch. You might text Changbin to pick you up a little earlier.

“Happy birthday!” you repeat. Nayeon pats the two seats near her, and you sit at her left while Mina sits at her right. You and Mina are the first ones to arrive, so you get the privilege of sitting next to the queen of the night. You take out her present and leave it at her elbow. “Happy, happy birthday.”

She smiles and gives you a one-armed hug. “Thanks. You’re the sweetest, like cotton candy.”

“Mina’s right next to you,” you point out, smoothing out the cotton candy pink pleats of your dress.

“You’re the mintiest,” Nayeon says to her, which makes her laugh. “Just like your dress. You two look so pretty tonight! I’m going to make you guys take so many pictures and…”

The rest of the guests start arriving, and the real party begins. By the time your salmon entreé has come, you’re drunk on laughter and high on the apple-and-brie appetizer pies. Jihyo brings up the time Nayeon got splashed by a passing car, and Jeongyeon talks about her getting sick after eating four slices of pizza.

“While we’re talking about pizza,” Nayeon says as she flashes you a smirk, which makes you grimace, “are you sure there’s nothing between you and Changbin? He’s picking you up tonight out of the goodness of his heart and not because he likes you?”

You sip on your ice water, the chill suddenly reminding you of the first frost and a festival. The sweet tang of honey fills your mouth. You take another sip, and the taste is gone. “He’s my lab partner, so yes.”

“Can’t you just admit you like him? You guys learn about stars under the stars. That’s, like, the most romantic thing ever.”

“If you think that’s the most romantic thing ever, you need to start dating more,” Momo laughs, and you are saved from Nayeon’s teasing until your phone buzzes with a text.

She leans over, nearly knocking over your needlessly fancy champagne glass. “Is that Changbin?”

It is. He’s waiting outside in the parking lot, and he sends you his location so you know exactly where he is. You didn’t realize that it was time for you to leave already. The cake, all three of its decadent chocolate tiers, hasn’t even been cut yet.

“I gotta go,” you apologetically tell Nayeon. “Eat a slice of cake for me.”

A hug from Nayeon and a chorus of goodbyes later, you’re walking down the hallway with the giant windows. It’s nighttime now, and your reflection is now solid instead of a ghostly outline. You walk on top of the buildings, your heel puncturing the lit-up windows, your hair tangled with the stars. The university you attend and the town it’s situated in is located in a more secluded part of the country, meaning that the stars are visible at night. The memory of the dream kiss comes back to you. Your lip throbs, and you’re unsure if it’s from your sunburn anymore.

Why did you taste honey earlier? You tongue the inside of your cheek and your molars, looking for a crystal of honey or some other thing even though you know there is nothing.

Your phone buzzes with a text again. Changbin, this time with a photo of him lying on the hood of his car, the stars reflected on the windshield. LOOK STARS, reads the accompanying message. You smile at the juxtaposition of his serene expression and his excited text. Your traitorous heart skips a beat.

Sorry, almost there, you reply back before flying down the stairs to the parking lot.

You see Changbin still lying on his car, one lazy leg draped over the side. Your heels clatter loudly against the asphalt. Changbin doesn’t hear you, or if he does, he doesn’t turn his head to you.

“Hi,” you shyly greet. “Sorry for making you wait.”

Changbin lolls his head to you. You don’t miss the way he scans you up and down, and you hold your purse in front of you like a shield. The off-the-shoulder dress with its cotton candy floral appliques is right for Nayeon’s extravagant birthday but not for a presentation on the autumn equinox. A smile spreads across his face, but you only see the beginnings of it since he hops up from the hood.

“Hey. You look really… nice,” he says. He leans against his car and crosses his arm, flexing the muscles he has hidden beneath his leather jacket. He looks at you like he’s never seen you before.

An arrow whistles past your ear. In the next moment, you feel someone lunging at you. A man dressed in all black, a sword sheathed at his back, has his arms around your waist and pulls you to the ground. Too shocked to scream, you only stare at him. He stares back at you, drinking you in like he has been dehydrated all of his life.

“Sh-should we get going?” you stammer out, stepping to the passenger side. Your head throbs, and you clutch the door handle for stability.

He snaps out of his stupor and pushes himself off of the hood. “Right, sorry.”

You settle into the leather seat as Changbin starts the car. The engine purrs, and the steel frame vibrates underneath your feet as he backs up out of his spot with a few jerky movements. He’s not an awful driver, but he’s not Mina. You rest your head against the window, hoping that the cool glass will temper your sudden headache.

“You okay?” Changbin asks.

“Just tired,” you lie. “The late night labs are really messing up my already bad sleep schedule.”

He chuckles. “Tell me about it. I've been getting a bunch of weird stress dreams too. Take a nap if you want. I'll wake you up when we're there.”

“I'll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

Your headache slowly fades as Changbin drives down the hill, an R&B song playing softly on the radio, but you are still uneasy. That was more like a flashback than a dream. Despite the intensity of it, the man’s face is an unidentifiable blur, an unfinished puzzle. You can feel the fire of his eyes and the awe in the way he reverently holds you, but he is a still mystery.

You shut your eyes, hoping that the darkness will be enough to conjure him back. Instead, the radio and the steady rocking of the car lulls you to sleep.

Soap suds slide down from your hair into the sunken bathing pool where they collect around your naked arms, forming little clouds of foam. You idly push them around the surface of the water as the maids scrub your hair and add more tea leaves to the bath. You escaped the grassy field with only a bruise at your hip. Your disheveled appearance and your dirty robes were easily explained by a fall during your afternoon walk, so your mother saw no reason to chide you as severely as she should have had if she had discovered that you entered enemy territory.

The man — no, prince. Years ago, when a marriage alliance was considered possible but still improbable, his picture was shown to you. He looks the same now, though you don’t remember his eyes being so intense. He scoured your face up and down, breath caught by the wind. Surely he was shown a portrait of you as well. Did he recognize you?

“You’re—”

“Your Highness,” you cut in before he could say your name or your title or anything else that would give you away as an enemy. The handle of his sword glistened in the sun. You meekly bowed your head.

“You’re the princess, aren’t you? What are you doing out here, and in commoner robes?” Sensing your fear, he quickly added, “I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

While he shouted to his army to cease fire, you darted out of his grasp and ducked into the tall grasses. You half expected him to hear his footsteps thundering behind you, but he didn’t give chase fortunately.

A maid pours more water for your soaped hair, and the cascade drowns out your thoughts. The rose-scented bath suspends you in a state of serenity while a maid gently kneads your scalp. Distant birds sing an afternoon ditty. Behind your closed eyelids, the prince appears, his wondrous gaze unwavering. Then his mouth opens in surprise, perhaps in recognition, and you mirror it as a cold downpour comes down over your head.

You wake up gasping, pawing at your exposed collar bones for any dripping water. You can feel it splashing over your skin and misting your cheeks. Several droplets bounce up, and you pat your jaw too. Your fingers remain dry, but in the midst of your distress, you choke on your saliva and cough, which sends Changbin into a panic.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to pull over?” His turn signal is already on.

You shake your head, still winded from your coughing fit and dream. That was the fourth time you had that particular scene about bathing. If you remember correctly, the maid grabbed the wrong bowl of water and apologized profusely once she realized what occurred. You don’t think she got fired, but it’s difficult to remember when the names and faces of everyone in your dreams fade so quickly.

“Sorry,” you tell Changbin. He chose to pull over, but now that you’ve recovered, he tentatively merges back into the road. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Bad ending to a dream. I got a bunch of water poured onto me.”

“I’ve gotten those too!” he exclaims. He mindlessly drums the top of the steering wheel as he drives. The radio is playing a different song now, and you just know he’s itching to rap along. “The worst one I had, I willingly jumped down a waterfall. I thought I died when I woke up. Was yours like that too?”

“Taking a bath actually. A lot less scary.”

“I don’t know. It sounds like you almost drowned.”

You laugh a little to ease him. He glances over at you, and you wish the taillights lighting your face were a more flattering color than red. “At least you don’t have to wake me up now. How was your night?” you say to change the subject.

“Good, I guess. I caught up on some sleep and went out for sushi for lunch. Or dinner, I guess. How was the party?”

You relay all of the details of the fancy restaurant, suppressing a giggle at his shocked expression when you tell him about the smoked salmon roses. You hardly believed that they were real yourself; Momo had to handfeed you one since you were too busy staring at the coral pink petals of fish to eat. Changbin bemoans about his relatively boring spicy tuna roll, and then his shrimp nigiri when you mention the apple-and-brie pies. By the time the observatory is in view, Changbin looks like he’s ready to drive back to the restaurant and crash Nayeon’s party.

“How am I going to watch the presentation now that I know about all that food?” he says. He takes his keys out of the ignition and looks over at you. “If it’s not too late, do you wanna get something to eat after?”

“Yeah! No pizza though,” you quickly add. “We always get pizza.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The two of you get out of his car and begin walking to the observatory. There are more people than you anticipated, but maybe it’s because there’s not much else to do in a secluded university town. You recognize a few people from lecture and lab, but surely the elderly couple in matching plaid outfits aren’t students. You walk across the parking lot beside Changbin, your stupid high heels announcing your presence with each step. Why didn’t you bring a change of clothes? Not only are you the most overdressed person in the vicinity, it’s freezing. All those stars in the sky are too far away to provide any real light or warmth to you.

At the entrance of the observatory, with its tasteful blue and white banners advertising tonight’s presentation, Changbin stops you. “Take my jacket. It matches your dress too.”

“Hm?” Then you see the pink and white cherry blossoms on the back. The flowers surround a pair of swimming koi fish, embroidered on with white thread. You reach out to take it but pause. “You’re not going to be cold?”

“I’m strong,” he says as he mockingly flexes his arms. Flustered, you busy yourself with putting on his leather jacket. His lingering body heat envelops you, smoothing all of the goosebumps on your skin. His cologne tickles your nose, and you breathe in the fragrance as you adjust your purse. You shyly clasp your hands in front of you. Before you suggest that the two of you start heading in, he says, “Don’t worry, you look pretty,” rendering you speechless.

You mutely follow him inside where for some inconceivable reason, it is actually colder than the night air. The central room features a large star map painted onto the inside of the dome, the history of astronomy inscribed along the walls, and a model of the Milky Way underneath the glass floor. Students flock underneath the dome, pointing at the constellations they learned in class. Changbin points out to you his star sign, and you find yours and show him as well. While he marvels at it, you study the map. Which star did the astronomer say was yours, or rather your dream self’s?

“We need proof that we actually came,” Changbin reminds you. Since admission into the observatory is free, your proof of attendance, as decreed by your professor, is to take a selfie with the presentation slides in the shot. You expected a quiz, but you suppose everyone would get the extra credit since the autumn equinox has been covered in class. “Should we do it now or later?”

“Now,” you say. “We need to find good seats too.”

Arrows point to Exhibit Hall A where the presentation is being held. You lead the way this time, keeping an outstretched arm behind you for Changbin to follow as you weave through the crowd. The crowd grows denser as you near the exhibit hall. At some point, Changbin grabs your — his? — jacket sleeve to hold onto.

“Where are you going?” His hand circles your wrist like a rabbit snare before you can pull away. “I still have to kiss you goodbye.”

Your wrist burns, and you yank it back, holding it to your chest. You stand in the middle of the hallway, heart beating too fast and skin prickling with flames. The headache from earlier returns in full force and then dulls into a muffled throb as you try to keep your breathing steady. It’s not the pain that bothers you; why don’t you know his face?

“Is everything okay?” Changbin gently asks as he escorts you into a less crowded area. “I can take you home if you want.”

“No!” you practically shout. In a more calm tone, you repeat, “No. We’re not passing up on extra credit. I’m fine, just sleep-deprived.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You plaster on a smile and take a step forward. “Let’s get our seats.”

Like before, Changbin follows you to the exhibit hall and up a set of stairs to the topmost row of benches. The presentation is projected on an enormous screen, and the keynote speaker is greeting her colleagues or just chatting with audience members. You face your back to the screen, making sure that “The Autumn Equinox” is visible in your photo. You snap a picture and sit primly in your seat, waiting for Changbin to finish fiddling with his angles and faces. He makes a few particularly goofy ones that make you laugh. You cross your eyes and scrunch up your lips, and he almost does a spit take.

While Changbin submits his photo for the extra credit assignment, you thumb your wrist. The burning sensation has dissipated, but you still feel the ghost of someone’s fingers wrapped around it. Whether it is your dream lover’s or Changbin’s — you don’t know.

“Do you wanna leave?” he conspiratorially whispers. He’s already sitting close to you, but the distance now is almost nonexistent. “We’ve got our proof, and it’s not like this stuff is new information.”

“Do you want to?”

While he pauses to think, the lights in the room begin to dim. The speaker is now waiting patiently by the podium, rubbing the laser pointer in her hand. More people flood in.

“When I grabbed your wrist earlier—”

“No, you’re good!” you hurriedly reassure. “It wasn’t your fault. Something just happened and…”

Do you tell him about your eerily vivid dreams? Not even Mina knows about this and she lives with you. On the rare occasion she has seen you wake up in a panic, you told her it was a nightmare.

You fold and unfold the corrugated cuffs of Changbin’s jacket. He said he’s been having weird dreams too; maybe he’ll understand. However, before you can tell him about it, the exhibit hall goes dark and the microphone screeches as the speaker begins her talk. The presentation slides glimmer with special effects, and the crowd oohs and ahhs as the on-screen orange leaves morph into little white stars. It’s too late to leave now without drawing attention.

“I’ll tell you after,” you whisper.

Changbin relaxes and gives you a small smile. “We’re crashing your friend’s party, right?”

“If they haven’t left by then.”

To Changbin’s disappointment, you receive some photos in the group chat that show that Nayeon’s party has moved from the restaurant to an arcade. The speaker’s words fade into the background as you show Changbin the pictures. Jihyo is still a monster at DDR, and Chaeyoung is still the best at shooting hoops. Changbin declares that he’s the best at the basketball free-throwing game, so you rightfully defend Chaeyoung because she didn’t win ten games in a row to be second-best.

“She’s the queen,” you say.

Changbin goes stiff, and his hand curls into a fist, closing tighter and tighter until his fingernails dig into his palms. With panic crawling up your throat, you roughly shake him, and he blinks out of his haze, still dazed. He stares out at you like he’s lost.

“Changbin, are you okay?” you gently ask. “What happened?”

“Is it okay if we get some air right now? Both of us?”

You lead him outside, mumbling apologies to the people you pass by, and he holds onto your sleeve for security even though there’s no crowd to navigate through. Your footsteps loudly echo throughout the hallway.

“You’re too noisy,” you say as you settle among the grass. “I heard your loud, boorish clomping when I got here.”

“Well, I guess next time I’ll have to lie down next time. I’ll win—”

Changbin’s fingers slip down into your hand, dragging you out of your fog. You let him hold it, partially because he’s shaken and you don’t know what to do. He blanked out and returned back to reality like he had seen the future; you’re still having sleep-deprived illusions. At least this time you came out of it peacefully.

You stop underneath the veranda outside, and Changbin stands beside you, his hand still in yours.

“I need to tell you something,” he finally says, “but first, what did you want to tell me?”

“You can go first. Mine isn’t that important.” Your heart and head pound as he gathers his words.

“This is going to sound insane,” he says, more to the silence than you, “but I think we knew each other before this class. I keep having these dreams about a princess, and I think you’re the princess. Ever since I met you, I’ve been… living this weird dream life, and I started hallucinating things and they always seem to be about stuff from my dreams. Like, when you said ‘She’s the queen,’ there was suddenly a pond and a bridge and some ducks, and the princess — I really think it’s you now because she smiles like you — was feeding the ducks.” He looks over at you, and everything about him softens. “I know it sounds crazy, but it feels so real.”

Your headache upgrades into a migraine as you graft Changbin’s face onto the mystery man. His eyes, his cheeks, his nose, his chin — they all fit, but is it because you desperately want them to or because he is the prince? You swallow thickly. “In your dreams, do you ever meet the princess in an empty field at night? Because I have a lot of dreams where I’m having a secret rendezvous with a prince.”

“All the time. And the prince and princess have that game where they try to find each other first?”

Your whole body is shaking. Your brain feels like it’s trying to break out of your skull. “Yeah.”

“Can I try something?” His arm slips around your waist, and he gently pulls you in front of him. It feels too natural. The stars reflect in his eyes, his pretty, pretty eyes that look at you like you hold the key to the universe. He’s shaking too. “You can say no.”

You wrap your arms around his neck. Mina and Nayeon would kill to see this, and you push them out of your mind as your lips pulse with a familiar heat. “No, go ahead. Try whatever you want.”

Then he kisses you like the stars are going to go out.

It’s all Changbin. It’s always been Changbin, from the first time he saved you from being shot at to the other first time where he sat next to you in lecture and asked what lab you had.

Changbin.

Your astronomer was right after all.

You and Changbin break away, fighting for breath. He swears, and you would have done the same if you weren’t hyperventilating. The migraine has gone away, but every part of you is humming with electricity. You feel every remnant of your memories: the sharp pain at your hip from falling onto the ground, the slippery soap suds sliding down your jaw, and the glazed tea cup grazing your fingertips as you drop it. They were a literal lifetime ago, yet they feel more lucid than anything you have experienced.

“What do we do now?” Changbin says. He clutches like you’ll disappear into the air.

You play with the cuffs of his jacket, looking at the sky. You’re fated to be with him, but you liked him before you knew that. This newfound knowledge doesn’t change your feelings. “I don’t know.” And because you’re concerned with the future, more specifically, the semester, you ask, “Are we a thing now?”

“Do you want to be? Because we can.”

He looks at you with hope and then unrestrained joy when you say, “I do.”

The stars shimmer and shine, some of them by themselves, some of them in constellations. You wrap Changbin’s jacket tighter around you and study the sky. Though you don’t know where they are, you know there are two stars that have finally met and collided.

~ ad.gray

Fun fact: The autumn equinox is on September 22, which is also Nayeon’s birthday. 

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