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#mystic messenger fic
password-door-lock · 2 months
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Be (anything but) my valentine
Suit Saeran x Reader; 10.2k words, fluff and angst Content warnings: implied/referenced drug use, disordered eating behaviors, death mention, religious cults Rating: Mature
Honestly, if you hadn’t been so annoying to begin with, and if you weren’t so opposed to all of the tenets of the Mint Eye, you probably would have been a great asset to Magenta. You still could be, if only Saeran would feed you elixir— but, no. Never. He wouldn’t want to waste it on you, he assures himself belatedly, regardless of what his conscience might say.  “No. Be quiet and listen so I can show you what I brought.” He needs you to shut up unless you’re going to be angry at him, to stop acting like you like him when there’s no way you really do. He needs you to behave erratically and violently, to prove everything the Savior ever told him about you entirely correct. Otherwise, Saeran doesn’t know how he’s going to justify continuing to treat you as he does. Not that he’d ever say those words to you.
“Okay, sure,” you shrug. “I've never gotten this many gifts in one Valentine's day before. You're really spoiling me.”
“I'm not spoiling you, airhead,” Saeran protests, “I'm tormenting you.”
OR:
Saeran will do everything in his power to ruin your Valentine's day. You, however, seem to be having the time of your life.
Read it on Ao3!
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gxnic · 1 year
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past, present, future
—saeyoung choi x reader
fandom: mystic messenger
cw: none! gn reader, fluff :)
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Saeyoung grew from a lonely child into a lonely man. He’s smart enough to acknowledge how his childhood forced him to mature faster, forced him to become the kind of person that withholds information from people. The kind of person that keeps secrets. A lying, scheming, self loathing con artist. He’s not, however, strong enough to pull himself out of the nightmarish isolation he feels deep within his soul.
At least, that’s what he used to tell himself. As much as he values the RFA and the rest of its members, Saeyoung felt as though he was living his life on autopilot until you came along. He can still remember how exhilarating it felt when you first joined the chat room, how his heart skipped a beat the first time you matched his energy, how his face was painted with a deep crimson blush hidden behind his phone screen every time you teased him by calling him a cute nickname such as “lovely seven, sweetie” and so on. He often reminisces on how he used to call you up just to hear your voice before you officially met in person, and the first time you called him just to hear his voice is still as clear as day in his mind.
It took quite some time for Saeyoung to accept that he wanted to let you into his heart. He was extremely closed off and emotionally unavailable, but despite his anxieties he knew with his head and heart that you were somebody he could rely on. He saw the love you wanted to give to him, and he had plenty to give in return. He decided that, no matter how it ends up, you’re worth every risk.
Now he sits observing you with a smile as you sleep in his bed curled up into him. He thinks to himself that, for the first time in his entire life, he’s looking forward to the future. He knows he can take anything on and it’ll be okay, as long as you’re there by his side.
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unwiltingblossom · 8 months
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Queen’s Favor (Mysme Jumin/MC AU 12/?)
Summary: Being a maid would be much easier if the cat would just let her do her job. AU - Instead of joining the RFA via random text, MC is hired on as one of the maids assigned to Jumin Han’s penthouse. Nothing else about the setting has changed, the messenger and the RFA still exist, only the MC’s position has been altered. The entire situation changed if her employer was present, however, because the face of Mr. Han awoke Elizabeth's inner demonic nature.
There's just no other answer.
See, normally she doesn't need to worry about little things like where her vacuum cords are, because Elizabeth tends to spook and flee from the room as soon as it turns on and doesn't return until it's off. She can generally do all of her work with loud machines without any concern about where the cat is, and fortunately her employer has been very understanding so long as she doesn't intentionally or excessively spook the cat, and she doesn't chase it around or corner it with the machine. Which she would never do. Because she likes getting paid.
The entire situation changed if her employer was present, however, because the face of Mr. Han awoke Elizabeth's inner demonic nature.
She fell many times.
Every time she thought she could drop her guard, Elizabeth dropped her instead.
It was a small miracle that she didn't sprain or break anything - and in the latter case it was doubly so that she didn't break anything in the penthouse either.
Her employer mostly kept to himself as usual, but as stoic as he was, he startled and looked up from Elizabeth - the villainous queen - every time she crashed to the ground. Though he looked initially alarmed, by the ...oh, fourth time that she slammed into a wall or tripped over her own feet dodging a furry white bullet, she was pretty sure his expression morphed to exasperated.
She collapsed - not violently this time - on the ground in the spare bedroom when it was finally time for her break. Normally she'd spend her break on the soft rug in the living room, but she didn't even want to see Mr. Han at that moment - she might die of embarrassment if he made a comment about her day. Like a finishing move that destroyed her ruined mess of dignity and apparent competence.
And even if she'd successfully never tripped directly over Elizabeth the whole time and the cat seemed not to be shedding excessively, she couldn't help but worry about being fired or reprimanded over those inane original rules she'd been taught long ago now.
That beautiful man is going to absolutely gloat about my cat betrayal...
Maybe it was best not to tell that actor about it at all. It felt a little like slandering Elizabeth to do so. And as today had demonstrated, the cat was actually a secret demon, so she'd probably exact revenge for it.
Soft padded footsteps met her ears moments before the queen of shed hair hopped onto her chest and stared down at her. Blinking, waiting for a response.
She thought about pushing the cat off, but ultimately didn't. That just seemed spiteful.
A sigh of defeat escaped her lips instead. "You win."
Elizabeth meowed smugly and sprawled over her as if she owned the woman, tail twitching with utter unconcern.
She scowled. "I bet you've planned this from the beginning, haven't you? Why you little demon."
Another meow, and she had no choice but to scratch her behind the ears, despite the claws of impending unemployment. Still, it didn't feel like a judgment, just a battle, somehow. Elizabeth purred in her throat, closing her eyes and settling in. Apparently she was about to have the best nap of her life after all that running around.
She huffed and let her head lull back, peering up at the ceiling.
She's gonna get fired because the cat fell asleep on her chest during her break. She can feel it.
Right on cue, she found herself staring at the upside down visage of Jumin Han, who must have come looking for Elizabeth. He stood in the doorway, looking down at her. Well. Probably at the cat. But also her.
Probably in the metaphorical sense as well as the literal.
Honestly?
She didn't even have anything to say.
Not an apology, not a laugh or even a crack about it.
She was just completely humiliated and...defeated.
The only thing she could think to do was look up at him and mutely whisper, "One minute left on my break."
She wondered if she looked as pitiful as that sounded.
His gaze lingered, expression utterly inscrutable. Honestly, though she'd never say it to his face, he was a master of holding unnervingly stoic and unreadable expressions. It was a true skill, to not express any emotions and still be expressive. He turned and went back into the hallway.
...Honestly if he was going to come in and gawk at her like that, he could have at least freed her from her cat prison.
Maybe she should just be happy he had the supreme self control necessary not to shatter the remnants of her dignity with a well placed quip. Or just a raised eyebrow.
She judged herself enough. Trying to explain to her employer that 'no, I don't normally fall every five minutes, I'm not disaster prone, it's just my proximity to you, I swear it's an ancient Mayan curse placed on you' while he looked at her like that...
She'd call that handsome man up and curse him out for stopping the truck from taking her out, if it came to that. She'd do it.
Extracting herself from beneath the cat felt very much like she was in a spy movie or an...art theft movie...why were art thieves so similar to spies? Why did art museums have comparable security to nuclear silos and government bases?
If her employer could hear her thought process, he'd probably assume she had another concussion. She wouldn't blame him for it.
Regardless. It was a delicate, careful operation to extract herself from underneath Elizabeth without spooking the cat, but she wouldn't lose to the Demon of Seoul so easily as to wait for her termination while trapped beneath a sleeping, purring cat the singular day she had to do her job with her boss' supervision.
Unfortunately, as much as she'd like to, she couldn't just hide in the bedroom all day. She had the rest of the penthouse to clean.
Maybe, just maybe, if Elizabeth deigned to sleep the rest of the morning, she could at least pretend to look competent in front of her boss for half of her shift.
And if she couldn't even with Elizabeth asleep, then maybe Jumin really was the source of the curse.
The man himself sat on the couch with his laptop open when she finally exited her cave of slightly-less shame. She did her best to pretend he didn't exist, with the reasoning that if she didn't look at him she couldn't see disappointment - or worse, amusement - in his eyes when he looked at her. And from a practical sense, she was a little behind on her schedule on account of all the falling and wincing of the day, so she needed to focus now that her break was done.
Still, she couldn't help but glance at him as she made her way over to her duster, which leaned against the counter closest to the entrance. He didn't even glance up from his computer, so she refocused on her task and picked it up.
Which immediately resulted in her stubbing her foot on a table nearby and dropping her duster on the ground.
Okay. That one was on her. This clearly wasn't as bad as she thought.
However, her boss did actually look up from his computer at her this time, and his brow knit almost imperceptibly.
Perhaps she was overselling her own competence. Honestly. That's where she's ended up. This is where the day has driven her. Questioning whether her months of successful cleaning had been some kind of long hallucination and she'd done nothing but trip over everything since starting the job.
She knew nerves could impact performance, but this was ridiculous.
Taking a deep breath, she leaned down and grabbed her fallen duster. Deep breaths. Even if her employer were cursed, or the cat secretly a demon, or her nerves determined to make her look a fool, none of that was an excuse to lose her best job in years. She was capable of focusing, and with the cat sleeping, things could go smoothly. She'd clean faster than usual, and finish her tasks with plenty of time to spare, perhaps even leave a little early.
Yes.
And she'd do that cleaning...not in the living room. Mhm. Conveniently in a room where her boss wasn't, until she could control her nervous energy and stop imagining his smooth voice saying some innocent yet cutting quip or another.
She opened the door to her employer's bedroom - making sure to listen carefully for any sounds that Elizabeth might have woken up and followed her - and pushed through, heading straight for the bed to attack its collection of cat hair and fluff. From inside a drawer beneath the surface, she pulled out the small vacuum cleaner she kept in there for emergencies. Emergency cat hair.
Bless that man for being so fastidious, with his preference for bare floors. It made maintaining the bedroom much easier.
She plugged in the vacuum, switched it on, and began attacking the bed with a vengeance. This was only slightly influenced by her need to destress, compared to her need to catch up. Yes. It had absolutely nothing to do with her competitive spirit or determination to prove her fears and frustrations incorrect.
...Except that it did.
She finished vacuuming the bed just as she heard the door open, and immediately spun to face the inevitable horror show.
Oh no-
Elizabeth trotted right past her, not even a glance up, to go settle onto the unmade bed and curl up on top of it.
She sighed in frustration, as she watched all of her efforts at eliminating shed cat hair immediately unravel. "Elizabeth...!"
The only response she got was a taunting stretch from the fluffy white ball.
"Did you really need a nap on the bed that badly? You couldn't wait until I went home?"
Meow.
She wasn't sure how exactly a cat could sound so smug, but Elizabeth did.
"You absolute menace." She made sure to hiss that one quietly. Just in case the cat-dad was within earshot. He had a penchant for moving silently and appearing wherever Elizabeth was, so biting remarks were a real danger.
With a sigh, she once again turned off her vacuum and swapped it for her duster.
She and the cat are friends. She likes Elizabeth. Elizabeth is a spoiled brat, but usually not demonic. She must remind herself of this.
She'd have to abandon the unmade bed for now, rather than disturb The White Queen over there, and focus on cleaning the master bathroom instead. Of all the areas of the penthouse, it was the second cleanest, and the one with the least cat hair. For whatever reason she didn't care to speculate at, it seemed Elizabeth rarely entered this room except to give maids grief. Perhaps she considered the tile floor unpleasant. Just in case, she wouldn't mention this thought to her employer. She had a feeling she'd show up to a carpeted bathroom some day if she did. Bless his cat-loving heart.
She sprayed down the shower and collected a tiny assortment of random toiletries that had strayed away from their original spot, and then turned to the faucet to rinse and dry her hands. She still had a couple of rooms to clean and the bed to double back and conquer as soon as Elizabeth abandoned it. Once she finished that, she'd put up her equipment and head out for the night.
As she dried her hands, she glanced up and saw her own reflection in the mirror. Frowning, she brushed her bangs back with her wet fingers, and scrutinized herself. She wouldn't admit it, but she couldn't really help herself.
Her nose scrunched up just slightly. Did she really have the nerves of an amateur? It wasn't as if this was her first day on the job, or that she'd never worked with Jumin present before. Sure, she'd never done the whole day with her employer overseeing her, but he'd arrived near the end of her day multiple times in the past. She hadn't transformed into a walking disaster on those days.
Admittedly, every day in the past he'd arrived after vacuum-time. So that was different. But if that was the case...she just...needed to find her zen. Keep calm. Do her job. Be a professional.
Just like she always was.
She closed her eyes and nodded to herself. She'd gotten herself all worked up over nothing. No longer would she berate herself for a simple stumble. The evidence suggested it really was a coincidence. At least, that's what she would tell herself until the evidence suggested otherwise.
...And, well, it wasn't exactly a hard sell. Today was an aberration and she wouldn't let it continue any longer. With the sink thoroughly sanitized and her expression as determined as she could get it, she turned off the light and exited the bathroom.
She passed the cat in the bedroom, and emerged into the hallway, immediately meeting the sight of a wandering Jumin Han.
Whoa.
He was like a roaming beast who could appear at any moment she turned around.
"Ah-" She stopped, unsure of how to respond to his sudden appearance, or what exactly she should say.
After a brief moment, she gave him a nod. "Good afternoon, Mr. Han."
"You look to be in a better mood."
"Ah, I-yes." She blinked. It wasn't the most positive comment, but it wasn't a jab at her performance either. She just...thought she'd find him making a veiled insult or maybe-
He smiled, a rare, genuine, soft expression that took over his entire face and seemed to light up the room. Not that she stared. It was just a close encounter with his sudden, swift, and completely confusing shift from reserved to expressive and-
So that was how he looked when he expressed himself.
Her mouth moved, opening and closing, as her thoughts flashed between several different remarks that all amounted to nothing. He didn't elaborate, though, and just gave her that gentle expression for a second more, and then turned to head back into the living room.
Leaving her speechless and still slightly traumatized by his expressiveness.
Well. Okay. Now she's just being dramatic again. 'Traumatized' isn't the right word. 'Surprised' might be a more accurate one. It wasn't bad, or anything. Just. Distracting. She'd never experienced his expressiveness so openly or so close before. Now she had an expression to match to that laugh of his she'd heard in the past.
The cat didn't distract her for the rest of the day, despite frequent encounters. She even braved the main living area again, and cleaned around her boss' presence on the couch - that smile still fresh in her mind - but it was smooth sailing the rest of the day.
In the end, she even completed her tasks earlier than usual, a sense of accomplishment thrumming through her. She'd risen to the challenge of something new and had come out on top. And as usual, when he was present at the end of her work day, her employer politely handed her a drink.
"You have improved tremendously over the course of this afternoon." The faint thread of approval in his tone encouraged her to brush off any remaining embarrassment from the start of the day and just appreciate the compliment.
"Thank you." She cleared her throat. "I-I've never slipped or fallen while cleaning when you weren't home."
Okay. So that blurted out even despite her plans to not to let it.
His brow arched. "Is that so."
Oh wow. look how fascinating her drink is. Is this lemonade? Wow...
"I imagine then today was a fluke. Or," his lips quirked. "It seems I failed to keep out of the way for even one day."
She sputtered. She couldn't exactly argue with him. It had been his presence that had turned the beginning of the day into a walking disaster.
Somehow, he seemed to pick up on that, and his gaze was surprisingly sympathetic. "Either way, it appears I may be the direct cause of your setback. Therefore," he paused for effect. "The next time I have a full day off and am in the house, I will request for you to have a day off as well. I wouldn't want you to find yourself thrown off-track by my presence once again."
"I-" She coughed, quickly shaking her head, "That isn't-"
He nodded firmly. "It is no trouble at all. You have served me admirably and deserve a day to relax. It would be cruel of me to knowingly disrupt your routine."
"Er...I can't just not come in on your day off..."
The way his brow twitched just slightly, she got the distinct impression he was humoring her. "You're extremely determined to work even when offered days off. While admirable, it is also unnecessary. If it's a matter of payment, I can assure you will be paid your normal rate even on the days I am home and you are off."
"I'd feel horrible!"
He tilted his head, patiently. He was an inscrutable man, most of the time, but she liked to think that shine in his eyes was a kind of approval.
She coughed lightly, before he could press the matter. "I...it is possible that I may have been off my groove today," yes, very professional wording, that, "but if I was, it was only because of unfamiliarity. I-I'm used to cleaning alone, but I'm capable of doing it this way too! So there's no need to change anything. I'll do better next time."
Whenever next time is.
His stare lingered, but slowly softened to that same gentle, faint smile from earlier. "Alright. Since you insist, I won't change anything for now. Perhaps next time I will make it a point to sit out of view until you finish your tasks for the day."
He was offering a compromise. It was still quite embarrassing, but she found it hard to protest when he had that expression again. "Yes. That sounds like a good idea."
Finally, he nodded, and the moment was over. With one last bit of polite goodbye, she stepped out of the penthouse and left, satisfied that she had conquered her demons.
Next time she'd definitely not make herself a dual clown-maid. After today, there's no way the penthouse had any other tricks up its sleeves to shock and frazzle her.
And now she knew what he looked like when he smiled.
It wasn't like she'd think about it all night, or anything.
Really.
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juni-writesx · 2 years
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once, i tried writing juminv's first time.
i never finished it. but i'll post what i have written so far here
for fun.
absolutely 🔞. minors do not interact.
this isn't beta'd or anything because i don't have anyone to go through my bad writing for me,... and i would rather not proofread shit or i'll be here for hours soooo 🤷‍♂️ oh well.
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“Jihyun. . .” the heir purrs; desire evident in the smooth, deep tone of his voice. Grey eyes slightly darkened by arousal as he takes in the sight of his boyfriend pinned down to the mattress underneath him, and the way the photographer’s cheeks are flushed a deep pink, the rhythm of the rise and fall of his chest, and the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips… along with the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“Christ. You’re beautiful.” He continues. One of his calloused hands skim across Jihyun’s clothed chest; the soft fabric gentle and soothing, much like the man who was wearing it.
The fact that his boyfriend still remains dressed -  and how disappointing it is - remains hidden from Jumin’s face, for he knows that, in due time, he’ll have the chance to undress his love all meticulous and slow-like.
At the moment, Jumin prefers to become acquainted with Jihyun in this intimate way.
Though they had been friends for over twenty years, never once had the heir ever thought that a scenario such as this would ever become a reality, despite the various times he’d imagined it. A dream he had buried deep within him - tangling his thoughts, his heart, for as long as he could remember. . .
It felt like a dream. 
He was Jumin Han, after all. He thought himself a mutant for the way he’d occasionally find himself thinking about his best friend in such a way. . .
the night beginning with his boyfriend pinned down by holding his wrists above his head on their queen-sized bed. The heir between the photographer’s legs as he hovered over him. So close to touching in such intimate ways but actually not because he wouldn’t want the encounter to end so soon.
And the noises - oh the noises - that he imagined that would come from Jihyun’s lips would always send Jumin tumbling over the edge.
A tiny, soft whimper comes from Jihyun, and Jumin is pulled from his thoughts.
The heir can’t help but smirk. “Are you enjoying this?”
He watches as his boyfriend nods his head yes, and relishes the way it’s accompanied by a soft, low moan.
How interesting it is to see Jihyun begin to come undone with just a simple touch to clothed skin. Jumin was well-aware that his lover was a sensitive soul, but he hadn’t the slightest clue that he’d be so sensitive to touch, too.
His roaming hand continues its travel along Jihyun’s chest; his thumb accidentally grazing across one of his love’s nipples, and he’s rewarded with an arch of the back into his touch and a moan that’s quite audible.
The reaction sends a shiver down Jumin’s spine - arousal beginning to pool in his lower abdomen from the sound.
“Hm.” He hums before repeating the action, and being rewarded with a hitched breath and another arch of Jihyun’s back off of the bed. “You’re sensitive here.”
“Uh huh. . .” is the photographer’s reply as he licks his lips. His cloudy, mint-colored eyes are closed at the moment, as the heir had requested. Not that it bothers him - oh no. He’d have trouble seeing Jumin regardless, given that his eyes were still deteriorating after Rika’s assault on him.
But Jumin had advised him to close his eyes and just listen to the heir’s voice. And that when one sense is blocked off, all the others become more heightened - a fact that Jihyun knew all too well. Truly.
If things become too much, please tell me, Jihyun. I want you to enjoy this as much as I will.
“Is this all right?” The heir inquires as his thumb brushes against Jihyun’s nipple for a third time.
Yet before the photographer can reply, he can feel Jumin’s index finger and thumb take hold of his nipple through the fabric of his shirt and give it a slight pinch
and the gasp the tumbles from Jihyun's now slackened jaw is one of the prizes of the night.
Jumin hopes there will be many more to come.
A deep chuckle before the heir says, “I take that as a yes.”
Jihyun’s hands fumble for the sheet on the bed, and he balls his hands into fists as he holds on to the fabric tightly. The pleasure coursing through his body as Jumin teases him in such a slow manner makes him whine softly. Yet he doesn’t want Jumin to pick up the pace
nor does it seem like he will any time soon.
I want to take my time with you, Jihyun. I want to learn you as I have since we’ve met. Slowly. With time and patience. So we have a mutual understanding and agreement.
Little did Jihyun know, however, was just how quick he’d be to arouse while under Jumin’s touch. There were still layers of clothes to be discarded 
and yet the tautness of his pants was obvious - to the photographer, anyway.
Jumin had yet to press closer to him in such a way that would make him feel his love’s growing need.
Another - louder - whimper makes Jumin’s lips curve into another smirk, and he releases the pressure of his thumb and forefinger. His hand eventually smoothing down Jihyun's chest.
“. . .Jumin.” 
A gentle cry of his name - it’s like music to the heir’s ears. “What is it, my love?” 
“Need you. Please.”
And the please is accentuated by a slight roll of his hips and another whimper as he’s left without the friction he’s so desperately seeking.
Jumin can’t say he’s all that surprised by Jihyun’s arousal, as it had been a long time coming to get to this point between them -
with their flirtations months after they began living together
and the line of friendship shifted and blurred to something much more than that. . .
If Jumin hadn’t pulled back - hadn’t hesitated and thought that it was just him that was falling deeper, feeling deeper
they would have reached this point many moons ago.
Perhaps to the point where Jihyun wouldn’t have lost his sight. And Jumin wouldn’t have felt as though he was drifting apart from his best friend. . .
. . .the heir pushes those thoughts from his mind. There’s no use thinking about the what-ifs or what-could-have-beens.
What matters the most is that they made it here. Together.
He swallows. “Not yet.” And dips his head down, close to his lover’s neck and breathes him in. Oh, how he loves the floral, yet earthy tone that is solely Jihyun.
Though he does not care much for the tobacco scent that sometimes overpowers the softer smells, he’s gotten used to it after being in such close proximity, and he knows it’s just yet another scent of Jihyun’s that he’s come to find comfort in since they’ve been living together.
Jumin exhales a hot breath against the other's neck and delights in the way his love shivers slightly.
As if he could read the heir’s mind, Jihyun tilts his head ever so slightly to the opposite side, effectively exposing as much skin as he possibly can to Jumin.
And Jumin chuckles. “Impatient, are we?” His nose brushes the flesh along Jihyun’s neck which, in turn, causes the photographer’s breath to hitch once more.
“Yes.”
The response is immediate, and can only be described as whiny.
“Mmm.” The heir responds; a moan under his breath. “And here I always thought you had the patience of a saint. You are a photographer, after all. Do you not have to wait for the perfect moment to capture the best shot…?”
Jumin takes another breath in through his nose before brushing his lips against Jihyun’s neck, and his reward is a gasped moan from the man underneath him.
The photographer can feel the heat of his love’s lips spread through him like a wildfire. He’s never been so aroused in his life. “I - I. . .”
cannot think straight. need you now. have been waiting so long for this.
“You what, Jihyun?” The words are spoken between multiple soft, gentle, closed-mouth kisses up and down his neck.
“. . .Please-!”
It’s all he can manage to say at the moment, for he’s so caught up in all that he’s feeling that he can do nothing but beg and plead for something more than touches above clothing. More than just gentle kisses along his neck.
But Jumin isn’t having it.
“Please, what?” And he kisses his way up along the photographer’s neck, until his nose brushes against his ear, and he whispers, “Tell me what you need, Jihyun.”
“-You. I need you.” His words come out as a ragged gasp. Jumin’s voice so low in his ear has him trembling and releasing his grip of the sheets and fumbling to seek out the heir - any part of him at this point. He needs to feel Jumin in more ways than one.
A hum of approval escapes the heir as Jihyun’s fingers manage to thread through his hair and give it a slight tug. Whether the photographer meant the action or not was a question Jumin would ask later. For now, however, all he knows is that he doesn’t mind it, and he wants his lover to do it again.
Yet he won’t verbalize his desire right now. No - this was Jihyun’s time. After all he’d gone through in his twenty-seven years of living, and all the times he had put others first. . . Jumin wanted this moment to be about Jihyun’s pleasure.
Of course, his boyfriend’s pleasure was much his own. Knowing that he was the one making Jihyun feel aroused and make those noises unabashed for him was pleasurable in itself, and aroused him so. And if he were to focus on himself, the heir would realize just how uncomfortable his boxer-briefs and form-fitting dress pants were becoming as his length hardened within them.
Opening his mouth slightly, he lets out a breath of air as his mouth begins to descend along his love’s neck - open-mouthed kisses this time as he makes a trail to the top of Jihyun’s t-shirt, where his collarbone was visible. He presses his mouth around the flesh and bone then proceeds to suck gently.
“Ju - min!” The photographer cries out in pleasure. His hardened length throbs and he knows the tip is leaking precum against his boxers. His fingers curl even more into Jumin’s hair and he tugs a bit harder, earning a low growl that’s stifled due to the heir’s mouth being occupied at the moment. “I can't - I can’t take much more. . .”
Certainly not if Jumin is capable of making noises such as that. Holy hell, Jihyun thinks to himself. Who knew the heir had such an animalistic side of him and could produce such a noise? Who knew it would go straight through him and down to his aching hardness?
Jumin reluctantly releases his hold on the photographer’s skin and collarbone, pulling back with an audible sigh. However, he is pleased to see the pink tint to where he was sucking on -what he would give to make sure that it would deepen in color; a visible mark where he had claimed his love - a proof of his own love and feeling for the turquoise-haired man beneath him.
“Are you close to coming?”
Leave it to Jumin to be as blunt and straightforward as possible, even at a time like this.
“Yes-!” Jihyun gasps out. “Please touch me. Anywhere. Fuck me. I need to feel you, my love.”
He’s begging at this point, which makes Jumin all the more aroused. It is then that he feels the arousal coursing through his veins; the throb of his fully hardened length pressing uncomfortably against his dress pants.
And the thought of fucking his boyfriend - rough, with wrists tied to the bedposts - has Jumin groaning. “I won’t fuck you, Jihyun,” he whispers huskily as he moves his head from the other’s neck. He shifts himself so he’s able to press the lower half of his body against Jihyun’s, causing the photographer to moan loudly at the friction it caused. “I’d much prefer to continue to take my time. I want you to cum for me, over and over. . .”
and a moan escapes his own lips as he feels his love roll his hips against him. “If you’re not careful. . .you’ll cum too soon and make more of a mess than I intend to make.”
With that, he moves once more - this time up and back away from Jihyun, and the turquoise-haired man lets out a loud noise of complaint at the loss. 
“I never pegged you as the impatient type,” he says, moving his hands to the hem of the photographer’s shirt so he can lift it up and over his love’s head. “How long have you wanted this?”
“Too long.” Jihyun blurts out as he sits up and eases out of his shirt. Goosebumps spread across the exposed flesh of his chest, torso, and arms as the temperature difference between the warmth of arousal and the air to the room are quite different. “. . .Much too long,” he whispers as he lies back down on the plush bed.
A rare, tender smile curls Jumin’s lips before he leans down in order to capture his boyfriend’s lips in a kiss that is slow, meaningful, and they both cannot help but to moan within it - each of them swallowing the other's sound.
The heir ends the kiss with soft pecks to his lover’s lips before pulling back and maneuvering himself into a position that would make it easiest for him to strip Jihyun from his pants.
As for Jihyun - his hands fall onto the bed and he inhales a sharp breath at the feeling of Jumin’s own hands oh so close to where he desperately needs to be touched and he whimpers over the fact that he’s not getting the touch that he desires most. “I’m sorry,” he says gently. “We’ll build up to this. . .”
And Jumin finds himself chuckling; his motions stalling for a moment. “It is quite all right, my love. As long as you’re enjoying yourself and enjoying this.” And with that, he begins to work the other out of his pants.
Jumin had always thought Jihyun was a very attractive man. But now. . . with the photographer stripped down to his boxers, the heir had to take the time to appreciate just how beautiful, angelic even, the other was.
From the top of his disheveled hair to the tips of his toes - Jihyun was breathtaking. 
“Beautiful.” He murmurs as he crawls back between the man’s thighs, resting his hands upon each of the other's hips. 
A silence rests over them for a moment before the turquoise-haired man softly inquires, “Even the scars? . . .The tattoo?”
“Yes.” The answer is immediate. “Every inch of you is beautiful to me. . .”
I may not be able to undo the past, but you are my present, Jihyun.
“. . .We can do something about the tattoo, if you’d like. After a visit with Dr. Lee about your eyes.”
Jihyun nods, and says quietly, “All right.”
“Look at me, Jihyun.” It’s a hushed request that is obliged, and grey eyes focus on the cloudy mint-colored hues of his boyfriend’s - remembering that once, long ago, when asked, the heir would proclaim that that same color, though more vibrant at the time, were his favorite color.
And he swallows, knowing full well that Jihyun had trouble seeing him, despite them being so close in proximity. He reaches one hand up so he can cup Jihyun’s cheek, and he smiles gently as he feels his love press into his touch.
“I love you,” Jihyun’s voice is soft, gentle, as he speaks. He turns his head in the heir’s hand so he can place a gently kiss to his lover’s palm. An act that has Jumin’s breath hitching, while the turquoise-haired man hums softly. “So much.”
“And I, you,” the heir replies, regaining his composure quickly. He hadn’t the slightest idea that such a simple action could have such an effect on him, and he's grateful that his boyfriend doesn’t explore it further.
There will be plenty of time for Jihyun to learn all of Jumin another time. For this moment was all about the photographer and his pleasure. . .
The heir moves his hand and places it on Jihyun’s hip once more, thumbs hooking around the top of the other's boxers. “May I?” 
“Please do.”
And he does, almost agonizingly slow. Feeling the warmth of Jihyun’s skin on his own as he frees him from the confines of his boxers, and allows it to join the rest of the photographer’s clothes in a neat pile on the floor beside the bed.
The turquoise-haired man shivers from the contrast of the warmth of his body and the temperature of the room. “This is truly what you want, Jumin?”
He raises an eyebrow at the question, and his head tilts slightly to the side. “Shouldn’t I be the one inquiring? You’re currently stripped completely bare. . .”
The photographer’s cheeks flush red at that. “. . .You should be, too.”
“Soon.” Jumin states firmly. “Right now, this is all about you. Allow me to be greedy - like this.” One of his hands slides across Jihyun’s sides, causing the man to shiver again, and he lets out a soft sigh.
When his other hand grips the photographer’s hip, however, he’s rewarded with a hitched breath. “Good. Let me hear you, Jihyun. I want to know how you feel. Vocalize your pleasure as best you can, or inform me that an adjustment is needed.”
“O - Okay. . .” is his breathy reply to Jumin’s wants, and the heir is pleased - as evident by the upward curve of his lips.
Jumin’s hand that's roaming across Jihyun’s side begins to descend lower: down the side, across his hip bone, and along the flesh of his thigh, and the heir is delighted to hear his boyfriend’s breath come in soft pants as he allows a soft breathy whines tumble from his lips.
“That’s it. . .” Jumin encourages; allowing a low moan to escape from his own slightly parted lips, and his tongue quickly darts out to wet it. “Moan for me.”
And Jihyun does just that.
“I love the sounds you’re making.” Though Jumin would never admit it aloud, they were much better than any his mind had conjured up when he imagined Jihyun coming undone for him. 
And he had never imagined the turquoise-haired man would react so positively to his praises, for out of the corner of his eye, the heir notices his boyfriend’s hardened length twitch at the praise; precum leaking from the tip and coating it a bit. “God, Jihyun,” he praises; voice thick. He wets his lips once again and swallows thickly.
He ghosts his roaming hand over the other’s length, and he’s rewarded by a roll of the hips - a desperate attempt for the touch. . .for the release that Jihyun needs. “J -Ju...min.” 
“What is it, love? Tell me.”
As grateful as the heir is whenever Jihyun voiced his wants, needs, or desires - because he knew the photographer had trouble doing so -
he’d always imagined him unable to form coherent words because he was too worked up. It was one (of many) desires that the heir thought of whenever he needed release. He hopes to have that same effect on Jihyun at some point during this intimate exchange between them.
“I need to come.” The photographer whined. Hips still slowly rolling, pressing up against Jumin’s hand that was now stilled and hovering over his throbbing, aching length.
At that admission, Jumin presses himself against Jihyun once again; allowing the photographer to feel just how much he needed him, too. He maneuvers himself in such a way where he’s able to slip his hand around Jihyun’s aching length with ease and stroke firmly, and he relishes the sounds that tumble from the other's mouth - whines and sighs and moans and panted breathing; a melodic symphony to Jumin’s ears - all for him, and because of him.
He cannot help but feel proud. Greedy. Yet as much as he wants more, he knows that Jihyun is near his peak.
At least the first, Jumin hopes. He isn't sure how many climaxes Jihyun would be able to reach, but he's more than willing to find out. 
“Come for me.” It's certainly more of a command than a request; a low growl that seems as though it was made wholly for Jihyun’s ears.
And oh, does the photographer do just as he is told. Back arching slightly off the mattress as his climax takes hold - a high-pitched moan of relief escapes him as he comes in spurts across his lower abdomen, and a bit on Jumin’s hand. Lingering whimpers as Jumin continues to stroke him even while his length becomes flaccid.
“Good.” The heir says simply, then ceases his ministrations. A smirk curves his lips as his eyes take in all of the photographer now… the way his chest and face are flushed pink. The hair matted to his forehead from sweat. The heavy breathing and the way his chest rises and falls with each breath. 
And he can't help but to moan - low and deep - at the sight. If things were to end here, Jumin would be more than satisfied. The smirk on his lips shift to a soft, tender smile that he reserves just for his boyfriend. “Are you alright, my love?”
Jihyun licks his lips as he nods sleepily. “. . .Yes.” And he takes a moment to swallow. “Yes, I’m fine.” 
The heir knows that the other is being honest and sincere, and not just saying he is in order to make Jumin more comfortable with their coupling. “I love you.”
The photographer relaxes against the bed. “I love you, too. . .”
And the photographer feels the heir release his length, which falls to rest against his lower abdomen - while his mint eyes watch as Jumin pulls back and kneels between his legs before bringing the hand that was wrapped around his once hardened length up to his lips
and begin lick the essence that was left behind.
Jihyun gasps just as Jumin moans. He wasn't prepared for such a sight, nor would he have ever imagined such a thing would occur or how erotic it would be to see it.
Jumin, on the other hand, had imagined doing such a thing before. Tasting Jihyun was just one of many fantasies he’s had over time, though he never could imagine just how the photographer tasted. . .
better than the finest of red wines.
The turquoise-haired man swallowed thickly; arousal beginning to flow through his veins once more. Is this normal? he finds himself wondering, though he keeps it to himself for the time being. He watches, still, as Jumin pulls his hand away from his lips and tongue - a sure sign that he's cleaned his hands and fingers of the photographer’s essence. 
Silently, Jumin brings that hand, along with his other one, to the first button of his work jacket and oh so slowly begins to undo them - one
by 
one. 
And he hears Jihyun’s breath hitch, which causes his fingers to immediately stop. “We don't have to do this --” the heir says.
“--No.” His boyfriend's response is immediate, and the room falls silent. “I want this. Seeing you taste me on your fingers and then watching you undress so slow. . .” 
He cannot seem to find the words to finish his sentence, for he lets out a whimper instead. His length twitching against his abdomen as it begins to harden once more. A moment passes before he says, “Please let me help you.”
His hands reach up and come to rest over Jumin’s - slender fingers finding the button that the heir was just about to undo. A comfortable silence falls over the room as Jihyun undoes the button, allowing the jacket to fall open.
Jumin wastes no time at all; shrugging out of the jacket and allowing it to fall onto the bed behind him. All the while Jihyun’s hands slide up Jumin's chest in order to seek out the first button of Jumin's dress shirt.
“Your impatience is showing again, Jihyun.” There’s amusement in the heir’s tone. “You've completely skipped over my tie.”
Not that he minds, really. It's something he’s able to get undone easily enough. He loosens it and slips it off with ease, and allows it to join his jacket.
“Sorry,” the turquoise-haired man replies softly as he continues to undo the buttons of Jumin’s dress shirt; his fingers slightly trembling as he anticipates what's to come. 
"Relax…" the heir says, soothingly. "I'm just teasing…" and his fingers come to rest on Jihyun's to steady them and help in undoing the buttons, then discards it to the floor after he's pushed out of it and he's quickly folded it up. Next comes the tank top he wears underneath it, and he shivers as Jihyun's fingertips roam across his chest and abdomen.
"I want to feel you…." the photographer whispers. "All of you."
Jumin swallows a groan that threatens to escape through his now parted lips, and his breath catches in his throat. His eyes become half-lidded, and though Jihyun may not be able to properly see the other's come hither, I want to be inside of you look … the heir surely hopes he can, at the very least, sense it in the air between them. "As do I, to you." He can only reply through panted breaths.
"Are you becoming impatient, my love?" Jihyun inquires as his hands roam to the top of Jumin's dress slacks. What a shame it was that Jumin wore such tight fitting dress pants, along with a belt. He'd love nothing more than to surprise his boyfriend by reaching down past his slacks and boxer-briefs and grab ahold of his length and stroke him slow.
"Perhaps."
"Please do…" and he moans a little as his fingers meet in the middle of the Heir's belt buckle, fumbling with it a little.
Jumin's silent as he assists Jihyun in unbuckling his pants — shedding the belt off in a swift motion and dropping it to the floor with his pile of clothes so the buckle doesn't clang against the ground and make Jihyun startled. And it isn't long until they both shed Jumin of the clothes that Jihyun wished were gone a long while ago.
The photographer's hand reaches for the Heir's hardened length and he takes it into his hand gently; slowly giving him experimental strokes. He can't help but smile hearing the other curse under his breath and feel the pre-come leak from the tip.
"You're ready."
"God, yes," he says through gritted teeth as he gently places his own fingers under Jihyun's chin to brush his lips against the other's. "Are you?"
Jihyun breathes out, "yes….." as he strokes himself; not truly surprised that he's hard once again for his love.
And Jumin kisses him passionately and deeply as he lays Jihyun back down onto the bed, a groan slipping through the kiss as Jihyun's hand moves away from his aching hardness.
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If You Can’t Be Unafraid, Be Afraid and Happy.
~ short but sweet little fic about Saeran having trouble sleeping, but his friends are there in the chatroom to make him smile again ~ based on some of my favourite posts from this account hehehe ~ 1k 
✧⋆*✴✰✦*⋆✢✧⋆*✴✰✦*⋆✢✧⋆*✴✰✦*⋆✢✧⋆*✴✰✦*⋆✢✧⋆*✴✰✦*
The paralysing fear of waking up from a nightmare wasn’t anything new. Saeran had spent his entire life getting used to the sensation of his heart stopping completely as his mind exploded back into consciousness. The sweat pouring down his ice cold skin was almost a comfort at this point, a sign that it was over, that he was now awake. Safe. In recent months, his therapist had recommended he pretend the sweat was a waterfall, and that he was merely a rock sitting behind the cascade - thoughtless and fearless.
But that wasn’t true. Saeran was full of fear. Even now. His life had changed completely for the better, he awoke each morning to his own smile outshining the sun beaming through his very own window in an apartment he could call his own, where all choices made were his alone. He would pick up his phone to countless messages from his friends, and his brother, asking him how he is, and inviting him to hang out with them. His life was, for the very first time in 21 years, entirely his own, and he was living it in a way that made him happy! But happiness didn’t obliterate fear.
And now, in a life where there was no longer any real danger for him to be afraid of, all of the fear was saved up to be spent in the early hours of the morning. When he should be letting himself fall asleep, all tucked up and warm in his bed that was as soft as a cloud, excited to live again tomorrow, that’s when he was afraid.
Afraid of the horrors that would torment him the second his eyes were closed, and his consciousness was snatched from his desperate grasp. The twists and turns of the demonic presences that made their home in the voids where his dreams should be, the poison thorns that wrapped themselves around every vein in his body until he was choking, choking, choking
drowning
falling 
endlessly into a cavern of nothing 
nothing
nothing
nothing
except for her.
No. No, not tonight. He wouldn’t let his nightmares win tonight.
He couldn’t if he wanted to. The fear had subjected him to tossing and turning for the past two hours. He’d done well to not let it build into a panic attack, and he was proud of himself for that! And he knew his friends would be proud of him, too! And that feeling, that truth, was enough to bring the hint of a smile to the corners of his mouth.
And although that smile wasn’t enough to quell his pounding heart into a soothing lullaby, he had a feeling he knew what would.
Saeran reached for the phone resting under his pillow, and instinctively opened the messenger app.
Saeran: Guys
Saeran: Guys
Saeran: Guys please I know it’s late but this is really important
ZEN: What’s up buddy?
MC: Saeran sweetie :( Are you doing okay? Do you want me to call?
Yoosung★: i’m going to be up playing LOLOL for a few hours if you want to join!! :D
A tear formed in the corner of Saeran’s left eye. Not in a sad way, but in a disbelief and overwhelming joy at the fact his friends are this kind and understanding and patient. Something he never believed he would get to experience, something he never believed he deserved to experience. Their genuine care and concern almost made him feel a little guilty for what he was about to do.
Almost.
Saeran: I’m okay don’t worry!
Saeran: I just
Saeran: I have to tell you something
MC: You can always tell us anything, buttercup! We’re always here to listen :]
ZEN: yeah! go ahead! ZEN THE KNIGHT is here to banish any troubles
Saeran: So
Saeran: I learnt something.. 
Saeran: if you pour water into a hole of dirt and put grass in it and mix it around it makes something.
Saeran: it’s called pottion.
The chat was silent for a few moments, and the bubbles of laughter were erupting from his throat and popping in the air around him, each one sparking the same joy as a gentle kiss on his forehead. He knew objectively the interaction wasn’t particularly funny, but to his exhausted, fearful mind, it was the most magical lifeline.
MC: Saeran.. … .
MC: I’m not disagreeing but
MC: You know potion is spelled with only one t, right
Saeran: if i ever misspell something no i didn’t that’s a secret letter i put there just for you and you found it.
Saeran: my gift.
 - Saeyoung has entered the chatroom. - 
Saeyoung: I just got kicked out of a tarot reading.
Saeyoung: oh hi ho brother of mine 
Saeyoung: potion. .. … … . .. . .are you sure you should be giving away this secret knowledge …. .. . are you sure it’s safe .. .. .. . .what if they .. .. they make their own potions .. ..
ZEN: What kind of potions would we make? MC: ones that include water dirt and grass obviously were you even listening
Yoosung★: You know I’m actually a potion master on LOLOL :D I made a potion that gave 460XP yesterday :DD
Saeran: Nevermind the potions, how the hell did you get kicked out of a tarot reading?
Saeyoung: *le dramatic sigh* Saeyoung: I put a draw 4 down on the 2 of cups
MC: Tell me you’re joking. Tell me you’re joking right now. 
Saeyoung: *le dramatic sigh x2*
MC: I am going to smack you with a broom you fool how could you disrespect the cards like this MC: I’m never giving you a tarot reading ever again the cards are going to hate you now
MC: hang on
MC: WHO THE HELL DID YOU GO TO FOR A TAROT READING??? I AM RIGHT HERE??? DO ME AND MY CARDS MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?????
Saeyoung: …….
Saeyoung: .. . . … .. . .. 
Saeyoung: *le dramatic sigh x3*
ZEN: maybe if you’d made a potion like Saeran suggested this wouldn’t have happened
Saeran: hey don’t bring me into this
Saeran: i-*morphs into cryptid and scuttles away into the night* - Saeran has left the chatroom. -
And with his throat full of laughter, his heart full of love, his smile full of giddiness, and his thoughts full of a friendship powerful enough to calm his every worry, Saeran puts down his phone, and comfortably allows sleep to take over.
Saeran once read, “If you can’t be unafraid, be afraid and happy,” in a book. And if fear demands to still be present in his life, then he will demand that happiness is the most prominent feeling inside himself every day for the rest of time.
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nok006 · 2 years
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Rare! Mystic Messenger G/T!!
Crossposted on Ao3
Characters: Yoosung Kim, Saeran Choi/Unknown (very minor role), Rika Kim (mentioned), V (mentioned),
Warnings: Cult mentioned, Minor Gore, Mutilation, Blood, Background Minor Character Death
——
Yoosung scrambled through the walls of the Magenta base that he had followed Jihyun to. He knew that the mint-haired man was up to something suspicious, and this just confirmed it. He knew that there was no way that someone his size was going to find any real dirt or blackmail on V on his own. And so, the gamer had jumped into the photographer’s bag the last time he’d come over to check on him.
The leap of faith had been worth it, now finding out that the photographer had been a cult member on top of being an awful untrustworthy person who had taken his cousin and never brought her back. He couldn’t decide which was worse.
Yoosung knew that he was bound to get caught if he continued to ride on the back of the blue haired man, so once he’d entered he’d found a vent to squeeze through. It hadn’t been too hard for him to find his way through the walls— most of the building had been surprisingly ventilated, though that was to be expected with how many members he’d seen out and about the mysterious building’s walls.
All seemed to be going well until the gamer stopped suddenly, hearing a scratching nearby behind him in the vents. Yoosung had been so caught up in the chase that he’d completely forgotten about what could have been inside the vents with him.
He stopped and slowly turned around, only to be greeted by a spider, so much bigger than the tiny had been, feeling around the vents. The man froze in place, staring directly into the large beady eyes of the monster that stood a little too close to him. If he didn’t move maybe the creature would leave– if he was lucky. Yoosung took a slight step back as he kept his gaze glued to the spider, backing up more and more until he slammed his back against the wall of the vent– drawing the arachnid’s attention towards him.
“Oh no.” His heart dropped as the creature began to speed up, getting closer and closer to him. The blonde began to scramble over his own feet, running as fast as his little legs would carry him only as the creature began to hurry along after him. Yoosung thought he was home free the moment he happened upon another vent exit, quickly pushing himself through the vent walls without a second thought. Though, that carelessness wasn’t giving him all too much of an advantage today.
The boy didn’t look before he leaped and ended up falling face first into a terrarium of sorts, a mouthful of artificial sand greeting him upon his landing. Yoosung groaned as he slowly pushed himself up, running his hands down his already wrinkled clothes as he looked about his surroundings. His eyes trailed back upwards, noting that the spider must have lost him if it hadn’t come down after him. He let himself relax for a second, thanking whatever God had been above that he hadn’t been eaten by the spider in the walls where he’d never be found. He knew that if he got hurt or somehow trapped within the vents or walls of this building he’d be stuck there for the rest of his days. He missed his giant companions, the RFA and everyone involved with it.
He missed being able to be safe.
The man’s eyes brimmed with tears as he turned around to try to find a way out. Only then did he realize his situation had only gotten worse. There was something within the walls of the cage with him. Something horrifying.
The creature smelled of rotten egg, undoubtedly due to the corpses it wore on its back. Most humans knew not of borrowers, but even some who did saw them as nothing but pests. So it was no surprise, but terrifying nonetheless, when he’d seen a hand dangling out the stack on the creature’s back. It hissed and clicked silently as it traveled around what Yoosung had assumed to be his cage. The bug then came to a sudden stop– its antennae moving around before they also came to a stop.
Yoosung felt his heart beating out of his chest, he was suddenly aware of his heart pumping, the blood moving through his body, and how loudly he’d been breathing. This was the end as he knew it. He wouldn’t be able to come back from this.
It was all over.
The bug came even closer, a bit too quickly. Then suddenly, It jumped onto the tiny RFA member– biting into him. Yoosung cried out in agony, the feeling of his flesh being torn from his body was almost immediate. He wouldn’t be able to tear off the creature if he tried, and if he did it would just latch on to another piece of his body. The blood that had been spilling left far too quickly for Yoosung’s tiny body to handle. The world around him was spinning as his heart beat within his own head. With a last burst of energy, he tried to call out for help– the words getting lost on his tongue as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
It would have been the end for Yoosung right then and there. However, a certain believer member happened to return to his room at this time.
“What’ve you got there Peri?” The darkly dressed man asked as he approached the tank, his eyes widening upon seeing what– or rather who it was.
“It’s that RFA brat,” He nearly jumped as he reached into the cage and pulled his dear pet off of him. “This is stupidly perfect.” The man who called himself Unknown said to himself as he held the bleeding tiny in his hands. Just wait until he told Savior of his discovery.
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mochiimiiki · 1 year
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the lovely was acc meant to be lively, but it would just be so cute to be called lovely by vandy
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starlightsaeran · 2 years
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Hey hey lovelies! I hope everyone’s doing well!
I wanna get back into writing, and I really want to write some more Mystic Messenger fics  🥺 🥺 If anyone has any fic ideas/requests they’d like to see then send them over! I’m most comfortable with writing Saeran, but I’ll happily write for any of them!
My published Mystic Messenger works can be found here:  🌛  🌸
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azulashengrottospiano · 4 months
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Hey Кролик!!!! I saw you changed your bio, so I think I can still request? Maybe? Idk, tell me if I can't.
I read and reread the rules, so here is what I thought of: absolutely obliterating 707 with snowballs, the poor unsuspecting fool gets hit with way too many snowballs (that's what he gets for being mean to me >:] ) and falls to the ground getting buried for his sins >:))))
Then, he gets a little kiss as an apology because he's my little pookie bear <3
(Make sure to take your time! And eat and drink! I love you! Muah ❤️)
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SUMMARY: you take saeyoung completely off guard with a snowball to the back of the head!
WARNINGS: spoilers for seven's route, contemplation of death. ITS FLUFF I PROMISE.
COMMENTS: ignore the fact that i picked the most summer cg ever for him ok HE LOOKED HAPPY. the seven kissers hiveminded you guys are so weird /aff (also abel!!! i love you too!!!!! RAHHHH)
TAGLIST: @haruhar-u since this was also your request <3
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It almost seems like the rolling of the snowball in your hands is an absentminded movement, but it's very much intentional. Your eyes are training on the back of your boyfriend’s head—his bright red hair is a beacon in the bright white world around you. It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop (or, alternatively, Saeyoung’s giggles as he sculpts the little snow Elizabeth the Third next to the snow-you and snow-him.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed at how quickly he whipped up snowpeople of everyone. Impressed, but not surprised. You think you even see Vanderwood a little ways back, isolated from everyone else, and you feel a stab of pity for the poor guy.
Working with Saeyoung can’t be easy, but he’s always been nice to you. Even up until the two of you ran away, you know deep down Vanderwood cared for Seven.
You shake yourself out of your thoughts, not wanting to get too caught up in the nitty-gritty of the situation when Saeyoung had it handled. You trusted him to protect the two of you, You know he can. You’re incredibly lucky for each and every day you get to spend at his side, even though you’re nearly always aware that each day could be your last.
But you chose this life when you chose him, and you would have it no other way.
And so, you show your love by winding up and throwing your perfectly crafted snowball as hard as you can at Saeyoung.
It hits him square in the back of the head, wetting his vibrant hair and sliding down until it hits the inside of his hood.
“Yikes!” he yelps, flailing his arms around his back as he springs away from snow-Elizabeth, “Enemy attack! God Seven is down!”
You laugh, already scooping up more snow and pelting him with your (much more sloppy) snowballs. Saeyoung makes a big show of gasping for air and pleading for mercy, occasionally playing dead and waiting for you to come over and poke him before smacking you with snow as well.
It doesn’t take long till the two of you are out of breath, your fingers ice cold but intertwined through your gloves.
“Want to head inside?” you murmur, kissing his snowflake-sprinkled brow, “We can have some of your very special hot chocolate.”
Saeyoung’s eyes light up and he gives you that big goofy grin you fell in love with.
“One thing first.” he whispers, the quiet of his voice exaggerated and theatrical.
And for a moment, you expect a snowball to the face, but he kisses you instead. It’s soft and sweet and tastes like an unholy combination of energy drink powder (which...now that you think about it, likely explains how quickly he crafted everyone out of snow.)
“Now we can go inside.” he laughs softly against your lips, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you inside, where you can be warm and comfortable with the one person you love most.
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whats-it-mean · 5 months
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Period cramps? Never fear, the great 707 is here ☆
i just got my period and i am n o t having it and yknow what i want. i want someone to give me blankets and hot chocolate and tea and hsdksjdl. Also the mysmes brainrot is real so why not combine the two !! its a bit short today but im tired so whatcha gonna do
C/W - Reader is suggested to be AFAB (it's a period comfort fic, what did you expect) but no pronouns or specific gender
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ─── 
Although he ultimately struggled to express it sometimes, Seeing you all bundled up on the couch, face scrunched up in discomfort, he could feel his own mood souring. You had your nose buried in whatever manga you’d wrapped yourself up in this time, but your focus was all over the place with how much your abdomen hurt. There was no way to think straight through the pain, no matter how much you tried to ignore it, and it bothered him almost as much as it bothered you. It had been a bit since he had slipped out through the entryway with a promise to return soon, with the grin on his face that only meant he was up to something, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to pay too much mind to it.
After about a half hour of you sitting on the couch, stomach aching and barely even reading your book anymore, the jingle from the doorway ensuring your boyfriends return had you directing your gaze to the hallway that led to the door, where said red-haired boy poked his head around the corner, watching you for a reaction.
“Seven…?” You asked, confusion evident on your face as you stared at him, manga now forgotten as it lay abandoned at your side.
He smiled at you, eyes closed while he beamed. “I got you a couple things~” He said, reaching out a hand to showcase the full shopping bag that dangled from his arm.
“Eh--? Why did you--”
He strode over to you, sitting down on the floor next to the couch you sat on as he shushed you, before turning to open the bag. He seemed rather proud of himself as he pulled it open, reaching in and handing you a freshly bought, fluffy blanket in your favorite color, offering it to you with the cutest grin on his face.
“I got you a better blanket, some extra supplies, some hot chocolate…” As he spoke, he laid each item out in a pile, eyeing you from time to time to make sure you were watching him and his little performance. “I got you a heating pad too, Jaehee mentioned once that those are useful. Do you want me to make you the hot chocolate now, or wait a bit?”
You stared at him, completely still as you watched him stare right back, puppy dog eyes on full display. “W- What is… Why……?”
He grinned at you as if it was obvious. Leave it to Seven to make you feel stupid even on your period. “You looked uncomfy, so I wanted to help~ Is that okay?”
Well, how are you meant to say no to that?
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───  End
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sleepingdeath-light · 7 months
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red and the wolf ; 18+
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requested by ; anonymous (kinktober entry)
word count ; 974
content ; sexually explicit content, dirty talk, slight praise kink, penetrative sex
fandom ; mystic messenger
pairing ; hyun ryu / zen x gender neutral reader
read also on ; ao3
minors and ageless blogs will be blocked
When your boyfriend had called himself 'a wolf' in the bedroom you'd just brushed it off as a joke about him having a high libido (which your perpetually aching thighs and few dozen pairs of ruined underwear could attest to). But now, with him looming over you in with those sparkling, perfectly white teeth, and glimmering red eyes, and that deep voice that sounded like something between a growl and a whisper, you couldn't help but think he was being far more literal than you'd initially given him credit for.
Not that you were complaining, of course, it was nice to be manhandled every once in a while — even if all of the filth falling from those beautiful lips of his was starting to drive you mad.
Zen urged you to be loud, to make as much noise as you want and more — leaning down to brush his lips against the shell of your ear and whispering in that heavy evening voice of his to ask if you can be 'louder' for him. Practically begging you to keep making all of those 'pretty noises' you know he loves. And every whimper and moan and gasp earned you a cuss, or a grunt, or a perfectly angled thrust of his cock straight into that spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars. A reward for your obedience punctuated by wet, messy kisses to your lips that were more tongue and teeth than anything else (oh how swollen your lips would be tomorrow, marred with the indents of his teeth and your own, bitten so deeply that you could already taste your own coppery blood on your tongue despite how young the night still was).
He downright worshipped your body between thrusts: groping at every ridge, and swell, and dip, and scar — complimenting each part of you with an earnestness that you knew better than to dispute. Calling you 'hot', 'sexy', and 'all mine' as he sucked, bit, and marked his way along your throat and jaw. Tenderly lapping at your pulse point and chuckling when he felt it jump after a particularly playful slap to your backside. He playfully calls you his 'little pet'; the 'red' to his 'wolf' — and he mouths wet promises against your throat of not stopping until the mattress is hanging off of the bed and you're both too tired to go on (and with his stamina, well… you'll surely have a long night ahead of you).
He then effortlessly lifted your trembling thigh with one hand to wrap it around his waist, feeling the muscles of his abdomen pressing into your skin as he pressed his muscular chest down against yours. And in that same husky voice, Zen praised you for taking him 'so well' tonight, words that barely reach you as you’re far too close to climax to notice much beyond how good it feels to have him touching you and the waves of pleasant heat washing over your body as you start to mount your peak.
Clearly he’s not too far behind as you can just about see him gritting his teeth through your hazy vision as he tried his best to last out for you. Pace quickening and deepening as he eagerly chased your high and chased your lips with his own with the same amount of ferocity you’d come to expect from him, calling you 'perfect', and 'made for me', and telling you how you feel 'so fucking good, babe,'. Each broken phrase an island of coherence amongst the endless stream of growls, and moans, and grunts that slip from his lips as he pounds his hips into yours and fills your hole with his dick in that way you love (and how could you not?).
Long strands of white hair fall over his shoulders and out of his up-do, tickling your nose and sticking to the sweat covering your body and face as you started to rapidly approach your climax. But by now you're too distracted by the way it felt to be stretched out on that pretty cock of his, and the distant sensation of him slipping one of those large, soft hands into yours and holding it tightly — grounding you in the same way that he was kept grounded by the sharp stinging pain of your fingernails digging into the toned, pale expanse of his shoulders and back — to care about anything like that. Even the fuzzy sound of his voice praising you, and cussing, and grunting and moaning against your lips (and jaw and cheeks and throat, always moving and marking and loving you) was too distant to your muddy mind for you to truly notice or understand beyond your short responses in the shape of moans and whimpers.
Then something snaps and the world around you comes crashing down, washed away with what remained of your coherent thoughts by the torrent of burning pleasure that wracked through your body. Kept in that blissful, whited-out place by his soft lips, and endless flirting, and expert thrusting as you lost yourself in the pounding of your heart, and the aching of your lungs, and the intense sensations that left your whole body limp and trembling, and your entrance pulsing and fluttering around your Zen. No longer able to do anything but moan, and gasp, and whimper until your throat was too hoarse to do even that.
And Zen (your Zen, your wolf) followed soon after with a loud cry (howl, even) of your name as he filled you completely with his seed. Pressing his sweat slicked forehead against yours as you both try and catch your breath. Completely messy and blissed out and in love; red and their wolf, basking in the musky afterglow before going straight back into the fray the moment you had both come back down to earth.
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password-door-lock · 23 days
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Bleach
Unknown x Reader; 6k words; fluff and angst Rating: Teen and up audiences
“Are you bleaching your hair?” You materialize in the bathroom doorway, apparently unable to leave him alone for any meaningful amount of time. You're like a little lost puppy, trailing behind him as he goes about his day with no regard for the minutiae of any given situation. When you're lucky, Unknown finds this desperate behavior vaguely cute. When you're unlucky, he's overwhelmed by it, not to mention annoyed. Right now… you’ve caught him when he’s too busy to formulate any specific set of feelings about your behavior. Maybe that means you’re lucky, then, after all. “What does it look like?” He demands, stirring the solution vigorously with the brush provided in the package. OR: You help Unknown bleach his hair.
Read it on AO3!
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kaizdreamz · 7 months
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You'll be okay.
for anyone who struggles with those late night sad feelings. (Coughs. Me Coughs.), this one for you <3
Romantic || touch starved reader x your favs. || mentions of heartbeat, established relationship, cuddling, just really big comfort drabble ngl.
If you guys like this I'll do more of them! (W/ or w/o specific characters, it doesn't matter ^^)
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" I've got you, sweetheart. "
" Stressful day? "
" Don't worry, I'm here. "
--
They'd pull you to their chest, brushing your hair aside, pressing a gentle kiss on top of your head.
"just rest for now..." they'd whisper, ever so softly in your ear. Twirling and stroking your soft hair with their fingers, gently hugging you to their chest. "It's okay."
You shift and turn to be comfortable, yawning softly as you rest your ear against their chest, the soft white noise of the fan in your room drowns out any silence there would've been. You close your eyes sighing gently as you attempt to fall asleep.
You hear the gentle thud and pulse of their heartbeat, your face flushes as you press your ear against their chest more. Your tired eyes open to meet their closed eyes, presumably they fell asleep holding you close.
Your eyes weld with tears, sometimes life just left... absent. But right now? Right now, your lover is holding you close, their gentle pulse, beating calmly and relaxed muscles holding you against them underneath the comfort of your blankets. You don't feel dull, you don't feel disassociated from the world, you feel real, they feel real against your body. You feel Safe.
You close your eyes, the warmth of your tears roll down your cheeks as you listen to the calming rhythm. Their hands held you from your back, you felt every inhale and exhale they made as they slept peacefully. It made you feel comfortable, safe, Real.
your heart calmed to a slow, soft rhythm, your breathing evened out as you slowly relaxed again, letting sleep wash over you. Limbs intertwined with your lover and a soft smile on your face.
--
I know this is short, and probably unexpected lol. I was listening to ASMR and I normally don't like it bc it makes me have anxiety but this specific one helped my heart rate calm down so yeah—
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kirbyskisses · 1 year
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kirby’s kinktober (twenty-eight)
camera//saeran choi
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sometimes 707 thinks you forget that he can see and hear everything in your house at all times with his constant security measures.
silly little scenes of you sneaking a bag of his honey buddha chips right after chastising him for eating too many. you singing a guilty pleasure song while walking to the bathroom.
this is not one of those times. this time he is absolutely sure you know he’s watching. because your soft eyes are directly on the camera. and your fingers directly in your pussy.
you give a choked moan of his name. his real name. he almost chokes as well, breath caught in his throat.
“saeyoung.~”
you shivered as his golden eyes inspect the screen. you’re kneeling on the bed for him and god your skin looks so soft - there’s a deep urge in him to walk down the hall to you.
but another part of him doesn’t want to ruin the show you seem so desperate to, and calculated in, giving him.
besides, never been one to match though sexual confidence or somebody like zen or even jumin, he’s about 89% sure he would be a blushing, shaking mess, with his face as red as his hair by the time he’d even open your door.
he wouldn’t want you to laugh at him so he grips his knees and looks closer, not prying his eyes away from the monitor.
you pull your panties aside, and he can’t quite tell if it’s just camera grain but - no, that is most definitely a wet spot over your clit.
he feels dizzy, like his head is going to explode.
positioning the head of a vibrator against your clit you bite you lower lip, eyes never leaving the lens through which he stares down at you.
the little toy shakes on low speed, and slowly teases the tip over your clit causing soft moans slip from you mouth.
“saeyoung. oppa, it feels” you gasp again, “so good”.
so wet already. so turned on, that you slip the tip of the toy down to your entrance almost immediately, moaning deeper as it pressed inward.
just the tip.
his hand almost reaches into his pants before he makes as conscious decision to make a fist. he knows any second now you’re going to beg for him and he has to save it all for you, no matter how uncomfortably sticky and hard he gets.
you wanted him to enjoy the tease, pushing the vibrator with gentle and shallow strokes in and out to start with. just those little, teasing thrusts, the slow rumbling vibrations adding to the sensation as you briefly slip the tip back up over your clit.
clear strands of precum still connect it to your opening, and it shines with his favorite shade of red.
"oppa…” you whisper.
“sae, you feel so good. please, seven. i can't hold back any more...i need to cum for you - please come here and let me cum for you!”
that purr goes straight to his cock. and your next whine forces him out of his seat and to the door, his embarrassed flush be damned.
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juni-writesx · 2 years
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partners. jihyun/mc. pg.
written for the @/mysmecircuszine (under a different pen name. this one far less creative than that. hehe. my first time being featured in a zine!... and probably my last lol.)
mc uses they/them pronouns!
it is my hope that you enjoy photographer V and circus mime MC (who are also performance artists in an act together~) ♡
————————————————————
When they’re all dressed up like this — a black and white horizontal-striped shirt, black dress pants and black shoes,their faces painted snow-white while there are thick lines of black in a diamond shape around the eyes, their lips painted black as well —they’re supposed to be in character, strict orders courtesy of Ringmaster Han. Be silent. Look and play the part. Make the audience laugh at their antics of being stuck in an invisible box. Play tug-of-war with an invisible rope and invisible co-star.
“You can do that act alone, MC. The audience will need laughter for this. Besides, V and yourself will have the opportunity to elicit other emotions from the attendees during your partnered acrobalance act.”
“Of course, Ringmaster Han."
And they remain silent as they stand on the stage inside of the Big Top; the hot lights that shine above cause them to sweat a little. It’s not a new sensation, really… it occurs each time they practice their performance.
But right now, there’s no one to test their act for, as the seats are empty. They’d never really taken notice of just how many seats and how many rows there were. It was like a never ending sea.
“MC?”
There is, however, one other person on the stage with them.
 “Sorry…” they say softly, though their voice seems to echo in the emptiness of the tent. Quite unused to speaking while dressed like this. “What did you say, V?”
There is a camera in his hands that he lowers from his line of sight, and he gives MC a smile. “You don’t have to apologize,” and he lets out a soft chuckle. “And it’s alright to talk, you know. There’s no one here but us.”
They return his soft smile and exhale. “I wish I was dressed for our act. I’d feel more comfortable.”
“Ah. In time, we’ll be able to take our promotional pictures together. I’m even thinking of bringing Rui in for them so we’re able to be mid-performance.”
“That sounds like fun~.” MC’s smile grows as they turn just a bit to face him more.
“Wait… hold that.” He says, quickly bringing his camera back up to take a photograph. “Perfect. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” They reply, their facial expression becoming neutral again. “Though that won’t work for the promotional flyer. I know I was smiling, and Ringmaster Han would immediately shred it.”
V hums a little to himself. “I suppose you’re right. We’ll keep going, if you want.”
“I think we have to. Won’t the show be opening to the public soon?”
It takes his all not to blush to the tip of his ears. He should have been more careful with his words; he is the co-creator of the Cirque du Mystique, after all. How could he have forgotten that these photos were due sooner rather than later?
It's been more than a year since the plotting and planning of the Circus opening. Finding the right crew to assist in their big day had taken some time, and yet it was quicker than truly anticipated. With Jumin running the auditions for those who were outside of the RFA, he was strict and ruthless when finding just the right people to be part of the show and crew.
V was in attendance of the auditions and interviews the day MC arrived. His seat was next to Jumin and yet when MC took the stage, it was like they were the only person around. Their personality that had shown through in such a simple yet so complex act of tumbling across the stage, some contortions, contemporary dance, and theatrical antics, had captivated him from the start.
“I like them.” V had whispered to Jumin afterwards. 
“So do I.”
V just hadn’t realized to what extent he would come to like them, not just as a friend. Nor as just a member of the Circus. Or an eventual co-star of their act.
“...V?”
He shakes his head imperceptibly to collect himself. “Now,” he speaks as if he wasn’t just lost in thought, “are you ready?”
With a nod, MC pivots themselves so their body language isn’t so much towards V but more toward the camera itself, doing their best to be sort of like a model, despite not knowing a thing about modeling whatsoever. It's just a guess.
“Relax.” His voice is just as soft as theirs was when they’d first spoken, though less nervous. It was comforting, just as much as he is to them. “It’s just us.”
They try not to smile again and instead pose in a way where they are shrugging slightly and their arms are in the I don’t know position.
“You can talk while wearing that. In fact, I… would like it if you do.” He swallows back I like your voice, and I’m glad to hear it when I have the chance to.
“Are you sure Ringmaster Han won’t come in to check on us?”
“I promise, MC. Please, try not to be so nervous.”
One deep breath in and out, then another. “Alright.”
Although Jumin entering the Big Top while they are talking dressed as a mime isone of the top concerns MC has at the moment, there is another worry they had -- being there alone with V.
A good majority of the time whenever the two of them crossed paths, there were others around, and they were able to admire and watch him as he fluttered about and mingled with the fellow members of the RFA, as well as the rest of the cast and crew members of the circus.
And when they practiced their act, there would always be someone sitting in the seats — whether it was Rika and Zen, who’d be recovering from their own practices. Even Jumin, on occasion, to make sure everything was perfect for opening day.
Yet their act was so close and so intimate that even Yoosung had asked if V and MC had become smitten with one another at some point. To which the others replied with a laugh and needed to explain that it is their show, and half of the point of their performance.
“Are you sure you want to do something so personal, V?” Jumin inquired when the idea was proposed to him.
“Not everything has to be so serious. I think the audience will be interested in the tale of two people — one develops feelings from afar, while the other remains unaware. An unrequited yearning to be with one another.”
MC wasn’t sure if their co-star could read minds or if they were just that obvious when they moved with him during their performance  — when their hand began to linger within movements for just a little bit longer as time grew on, or the way he held them so close it made their heart race and eyes flutter shut even though they were supposed to lock eyes with him.
A few clicks of the camera’s shutter is heard as MC tries out various poses in regard to their act. “Do you think they’re coming out good?”
“Oh, yes.” Even if they weren’t, he truly didn’t mind. He’d purchased a special memory card for this. “I’m certain a lot of them are phenomenal. You’re a great model, MC.”
They’re grateful their face is painted with professional makeup or else he’d be able to see the blush that colors their cheeks. “You’re such a charmer.” They say with a laugh; knowing just how well with words he was. He has an air and way about him that could draw people in. 
They’ve seen the way everyone seems to follow his every word, including Jumin. And even their own.
When they hear the camera go off mid-laugh, they turn to glance at V. “Hey! Now that one definitely won’t work!” They take a step forward. “Why do you keep taking such casual photos of me?” A slight tilt of their head after they finish their inquiry to show their confusion.
“I’m making a photo album of behind the scenes of everyone’s photos,” he lies — quick thinking —  and swallows a little. “Just for the crew and RFA. They’ll be shown at the celebration of our opening day.”
“That sounds so cool~! I can’t wait to see all the photos!” Their voice is louder now, and very enthusiastic. The idea of seeing all the behind-the-scenes photographs interests MC, and they couldn’t wait to hear all the stories behind the photos he would put together.
They are certain there would be some clowning around by Seven and Saeran, where surely Saeran would be chasing after his brother after being sprayed by a flower that was attached to his outfit. Some photos of Yoosung juggling; where his tongue is sticking out because he is so focused on not dropping the bowling pins he had chosen to open his act with. They’d hoped that Jaehee would be smiling as she takes a break from taming and working with Elizabeth the 3rd. Rika could possibly be sitting in her hoop, taking breaths between the aerobatics she would be showing off, perhaps even chatting with Zen, who’d be standing around the same area that MC is at currently, draping a towel across his shoulders — having finished his shoot from the aerial silks that had been set up in the Big Top.
Perhaps even behind the scenes selfies of the Ringmaster and the photographer himself.
V feels guilty for lying to MC about why he is taking as many photos of them as possible, but he still isn’t entirely sure if he has the courage to come out and let them know the truth.
“We’ll take a few more photos.” He watches as MC does their best to wipe their brow of a bead of sweat without messing up their face paint. “And get you some water.”
“Water sounds fantastic right about now!”
Another click of the camera as V — no, Jihyun — catches the merriment in MC's expression and body language; the mirth in their eyes. He feels honored, blessed even, to have the opportunity to catch MC like this, especially dressed as they were.
MC, on the other hand, is highly confused as to why he keeps snapping pictures of them. "You'll be looking through photos of me forever, finding one to use, if you keep taking random pictures of me~!"
Oh, he truly doesn't mind, since he knows that it would possibly be a rare occasion for them to be present in each other’s company like this, he thoroughly enjoys having the chance to watch MC as they smile and laugh. It is simple, pleasant, and nice.
It makes his heart flutter, his cheeks flush as though they are practicing their act, he would blame the spotlight shining down on them if he would be asked why his cheeks were so red.
"You have wonderful artistic vision; I have seen some of your work before," — plastered around the fairgrounds are photographs that he had taken of various landscapes, of Elizabeth the Third. "Maybe you should help me pose for a good photo to use for the flyer!"
Jihyun smiles softly; the idea sounding like the best way he can be close to MC before they part ways for the day. Slowly, he lowers his camera so it dangles by the strap around his neck. "Of course. I'm sure we'll be able to come up with something…."
His steps echo throughout the Big Top as he approaches them; a smile curving his lips. “Hmm.” His voice is low  as he stops right behind them.
And he presses as close behind them as he could manage without the camera pressing into their back.
He dips his head down to their ear. “How about this…?” 
The softness and tenderness of his voice causes them to shiver as they feel his hands glide down their arms; fingers curling around their wrists as he maneuvers them gently. He truly has no idea how he wants them to look for a photograph, as he is sure all the ones he'd taken are truly ideal for him.
It's long past the point of him needing to get a photograph for a flyer, but his own selfish need of seeing MC smile, and being near them for more than just their performance and in passing moments of Circus meetings to prepare for opening day.
MC hopes that he couldn’t hear their heart race as they stand there, silent, for moments. “...This is fine.” they whisper as they turn their head to the side in order to see him. “As long as you’re alright with helping me pose.”
And he chuckles softly, so close to their ear and it thrills them. The familiar sensation of butterflies in their stomach
Just as he feels within his.
"....MC." their name is spoken before he has a chance to leave it on the tip of his tongue.
"Yes, V?"
One of his hands reaches for theirs and he gently curls his fingers in-between theirs, and their fingers fall together, intertwined, with ease. It's a silent request from him that they know all too well from their performance. He would like them to turn around —
and they oblige. Spinning around as though they are practicing their act, and his free hand swiftly, yet oh so gently, lands on their hip without any hesitation on his part.
Their eyes lock, chests rising and falling with their breaths, almost in sync, as if they'd finished a rehearsal. "I…." he begins to say,but he's cut off by MC's lips pressing against his.
He cannot help but sigh into the kiss before his lips curve into a slight smile. The fluttering sensation increases as he feels MC return his smile.
They both hate to part from this, but they know that they must. And when they do, he breathes out softly, "...I want you to call me Jihyun..." 
“Hey…!” Yoosung’s voice rings out before MC has a chance to respond, and it causes the two on the Big Top stage to jump — startled... yet they still stand so close to one another. “...Does this mean you two are finally aware of each other's feelings?”
Jihyun glances down at them inquisitively, to which the smile he felt against his lips reemerges on their face. “...Well, MC?” he asks softly. 
“Hmm~” they hum teasingly. “I dunno~ kissing isn’t part of our act. And it's certainly not part of my act!” They stand on tip-toes and use the sleeve of their shirt to clean off the trace of black lipstick from Jihyun's lips.
It only takes him a moment to reach for that hand, take it gently in his, and to kiss their sleeve. “Yes, Yoosung. I believe we are aware now."
“It’s about time.” Jumin chimes in. “...I hope you have some workable photos, V. I didn’t request these promotional flyers for you to go to MC with a love confession.”
A squeak comes from MC and they can feel the tips of their ears and the apples of their cheeks burn as they try so desperately to hide behind Jihyun. “I thought you said he wouldn’t come in!!!”
And Jihyun laughs before saying, “We’re fine, MC. C’mon. Let’s go get that water… and grab something to eat while we’re at it; I’m sure you could use it. Besides…. I’d like to spend some more time with you, if that’s alright.”
“Of course,” they reply as they give his hand a squeeze. “Let me freshen up first. I’ll see you in the food tent.” Once again, they go on their tip-toes but this time it's to place a gentle kiss upon his cheek.
Now Jihyun blushes — happily. Relieved. And outwardly just as smitten as their act portrays. In much the same way as MC is right now.
“I’ll see you there.”
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wildelydawn · 7 months
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“I’m telling you, Chay! You gotta download this dating sim! It’s so fucking cute!” Ohm scrolls a bit and shoves his phone in Chay’s face. “Look at him!” An angry, but very hot man in a full suit and pony tail is on Ohm’s screen.
Chay bats Ohm’s phone away. “Why do you even play those games?”
“Oh, please. You would eat this shit up. Between that nasty stuff you’re writing instead of taking notes and the spank bank you have on your wall- OW!”
Chay nudges Ohm again. “Keep your voice down!” Chay leans in, whispering furiously. “Writing about WIK is private. This is a stupid social media game.”
“You used to play dating sims all the time!”
“Yeah! And then I realized real dating is nothing like a video game!”
Ohm sends him a referral code. “Come on, give it a shot. It’s fun. And it’s not like you’ve got any dates lined up.”
“Ugh, Ooohhhhm.”
“Just click on the link and make an account! So I can get the coins! Then you can delete it.”
“Fine, but not now. I’m busy.”
-
Later that same night, Chay receives a text from Ohm, reminding him yet again to make an account for A Ravishing Romance!, the newest and hottest dating sim on the market. 
According to the lore, the player is the protagonist who is visited by Nya, a “cat tamer” who whisks the player away to a secret island, The Meowland Marshes, where cat boys are running rampant. The protagonist has to romance each catboy, cat girl, or cat-person (depending on the settings the player chooses) and prepare them for the Adoption Party that’s happening in a week. If the protagonist fails to romance all the catboys in time, the Adoption Party doesn’t happen, and the Meowland Marshes are lost to the antagonists, the Kittjinn, evil spirits trying to take the catboys and make them their personal minions. If the player successfully dates all the catboys, brings them to the Adoption Party, gets all of them “adopted,” then the player successfully wins the game, and they get to choose the catboy they want to adopt.
The game sounds so bad that it could be good. 
There’s a free version and a very adult version for some money.
Chay is not going to spend 400 baht on a dating sim. But the coins are important to Ohm, so he downloads the free version, starts up the app, makes his gender neutral character named WIK, and begins the prologue to the game.
The game…. Is really something.
Nya, the catboy who’s going to narrate the game, is a blue-haired, pale skinned, lean looking man with a black crop top, choker, tight leather pants, and blue jewelry and accents. Anndddd he’s sporting the whole cat ears and tail and teeth thing. After explaining the prologue (Nya picked you, the protagonist, out of the other 8 billion people on earth because you wrote the most Kudos!’d catboy fanfic on Database of Our Own), Nya whisks you away to Meowland Marshes.
There, Nya basically traps Chay’s character in an apartment and tells him he has a week to romance all five catboys on the Marsh. Nya gives you a weird looking whistle that attaches to your phone; blow on it, and you can call Nya for help, access the catboys you’ve already romanced, or take yourself to the Pawwwn Shoppe, where you can buy treats, outfits, catnip, leashes, and other weird cat (and kinky) stuff to lure the boys. 
Chay clicks on one of the grasslands first because allegedly, one of the catboys is there.
Whisked away to the grassland, Chay encounters his first cat boy. He’s dark haired, wearing a white button up that is definitely not anywhere close to being buttoned up, with some maroon pants. He has his maroon blazer hanging on his shoulder, and his tail is up and ears relaxed.
“Hey there. Did you happen to find a watch here?” the cat boy asks. 
The game gives Chay two options:
“Uh, no. Sorry dude.”
“No, but I can definitely help you look for it!”
Chay sighs. He needs to find at least three catboys to reveal the rest of the map and to get Ohm his bonus coins. He clicks on the second option.
“Oh, thank you! I was being chased by some rabid dogs, but I think I dropped it somewhere. I can’t leave it behind. It’s like a collar.”
*You and the catboy look around the tall grass. He captures three mice, scratches behind his ear, meows in a pained voice before you find the watch.*
The catboy goes from sad to elated. Now Chay can see his thick forearms as he punches the air. Pink hearts erupt on the screen. “Thank you! You’re a really nice person! This watch means a lot to me. But since you were so kind, I’ll let you have it.” 
The game gives Chay two options:
“No thank you! I have a phone that tells time already. I’d love your number though! ;) ”
“Aw, that’s so sweet of you. I’ll cherish it forever, Mr…?”
Chay rolls his eyes and clicks the first option.
The catboy goes from elated to coy, his thick eyebrows raised. “Wow, you work fast. My name is Kinn, but I’m not that easy. Come back tomorrow and I’ll think about answering when you call.”
The screen lights up and Chay’s character’s phone rings. Chay clicks it, and now Kinn’s number is there. There are three options: CALL, TEXT, ASK ON DATE, and all three of them won’t be available until tomorrow.
Chay sighs. He opens the map and finds another location: a spa. Why would cats go to a spa? No idea, but this game makes so little sense to Chay, that he just clicks on it anyways. The sooner he finishes these first quests, the sooner he can delete the game.
A high pitched musical note signals that Chay’s character has landed in the spa. There, he finds another cat, but this one has a mischievous grin on his face. His ears are twisted back, like he’s ready to pounce on Chay’s little character. The only weird thing is that his legs are in the water… his fully clothed legs.
“Aren’t cats supposed to be afraid of water?” Chay muses. He clicks on the catboy.
“Ah, did you bring me my red wine?”
The game gives Chay two options:
“No, but I have these extra large condoms and some harnesses if you really wanna relax.”
“No, but you shouldn’t drink. It’s only 1PM.”
Chay clicks the second option. The catboy goes from passive to annoyed, a little vein popping out. 
“Who cares what time it is? I’m at the spa! Go find me a glass of wine and put it under my tab: Vegas.”
A sad face pops up on the screen. Apparently, Chay has met Vegas the Catboy, but hasn’t secured his number. So Chay must try again tomorrow.
“That’s irritating,” Chay sighs.
The final place that’s open to explore on the Meowland Marshes is the park. Chay clicks there and the same high pitched sound transports him there.
On a bench, surrounded by flowers and bushes, another catboy sits, with a guitar.
Chay’s jaw drops.
This catboy looks suspiciously like WIK. As in, real life singer WIK who’s currently promoting his second album on a sold out tour. The catboy is wearing a gray t-shirt and light-washed jeans, and lots of silver jewelry. His hair is longer towards the back, and his ears and tail are slightly droopy. He has a notebook next to him on the bench. 
Clearly, the game developer is keeping up with the times.
Chay clicks on the catboy.
“Oh. Hello. Am I making too much noise?”
The game gives Chay two options:
“No, you sound great!”
“No, but you sound stuck. Want some help?”
Imagine helping WIK with writing a song? Chay thinks. Only in his dreams. He clicks on the second option.
The cat boy’s tail perks up immediately. “You write music too? That’s great. Can you tell me how this sounds?”
Suddenly, a really slow guitar starts to play. The tune is melancholy and sweet at the same time.
Sort of like WIK’s music.
When the tune plays, the catboy says: “What do you think?”
The game gives Chay two options:
“It’s perfect! Don’t change anything!”
“It’s really good, but maybe change…” *give basic music advice.*
Chay laughs. He clicks the second option.
The catboy’s face changes to a soft smile. Pink hearts fill up the screen, which didn’t happen for the other two catboys.  “Wow, that’s good advice. I should get lessons from you. Do you come to the park often?”
The game gives Chay two options:
“Yeah, I love smelling the flowers. How about you?”
“Yeah, I love birdwatching. How about you?”
Chay clicks the first option.
More pink hearts fill the screen. The catboy’s smile gets even bigger and the guitar goes from his lap onto the bench. “Me too. I hate being at home, so I stroll through the park a lot. And flowers feel good when I touch the petals. I wish I could rub my face in them.” The cat boy goes from smiling to shy. “My name is Kim, by the way. What’s your favorite kind of flower?”
The game gives Chay two options:
“Uh, I don’t know the names, but the pink ones?”
*take a pink flower from the bush and put it in Kim’s hair.* “You.”
For shits and giggles, Chay hits the second option.
Red hearts appear on the screen while Kim the Cat boy blushes and touches the pink flower in his hair. “That…” There’s nothing else on the screen before the game gives Chay another two options:
“You look pretty like this.”
“I want to spend my life with you.”
Chay clicks the second option.
Suddenly, Chay’s phone becomes warm. Then hot. The app goes black and his phone shuts down, but now it’s burning in his hands. With a yelp, Chay drops his phone, and a silvery white beam erupts from it, blinding him. A strange breeze sweeps up the papers off his desk, and it picks up speed as Chay covers his eyes and feels his shirt billow against the gusts of wind. 
There’s a loud thud, a soft groan.
Chay uncovers his eyes as the light dims.
A man in a gray shirt and light wash jeans is heaped onto the floor. With a flower in his hair.
Not a man.
A cat boy.
Chay feels faint as the man-cat-boy hybrid stands up and dusts off his pants. “Your life… with me?” as if Kim is continuing the same conversation from the game. 
Chay can hardly breathe. “What the fuck is going on?” he whispers.
Still looking shy, Kim the man-cat-boy hybrid repositions the flower carefully. “I think it’s too soon to move in with each other. Maybe we can…” He looks up towards Chay. “I’m hungry. Do you… do you want to go get some noodles?”
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