#exo fics

☆ — junmyeon

is he nervous? of course. his heart is thundering, but he has all prepared after dinner. he takes the lead with a steady grace. there’s no rush; he’s the one who initiates the first tentative brush of lips, the one who deepens it into something breathless, and the one who pulls back just enough to look you and ask: “are you sure, love?”

when junmyeon hears your confirmation, the restraint snaps. he doesn’t need a second invitation. he begins to touch you like you’re his most valuable possession, his hands steady as he peels away your clothes, his mouth marking every newly exposed inch of skin with a lingering, possessive kiss.

“i can’t believe you’re finally mine,” he rasps. he sets an agonizingly deliberate pace, making you ache for his next move. he’s normally patient, but here... it feels like his body and mind are shutting down at once. 

junmyeon prioritizes you completely, but don’t get me wrong, he loves it—start kissing your breast, your lower belly, and then bury his face between your legs. he doesn’t miss out a moment to make out with your cunt, starving, uneven, his tongue and fingers working in a desperate, skillful rhythm. he’s crazy about the way you arch and curve under his touch, his fingers stretching you open as he laps you up until you reach the first orgasm, of course, not missing the chance to drink you up.

when he finally moves to fill you, he makes you his pillow princess—making love to you slowly, deeply, and with a rhythmic intensity that forces you to cling to him, pulling him closer and closer until you both shatter.

afterward, he craves you even more in the quiet skin-to-skin contact. he won’t let you rest until you both are breathless, incapable of moving aside. he cleans you up, kissing your skin softly, murmuring praises he wants to tattoo on your skin, his body tangled with yours as if he’s trying to stay under your skin.

☆ — minseok

his eagerness is written in his eyes, darkening until they’re nearly all pupils. there’s a shimmering, predatory heat in his gaze that makes you feel more beautiful—more seen—than you even have before. it’s a look that demands a response, and you find yourself matching his hunger, your hands pulling him closer, your mouth searching for his lips with a desperate, shared heat.

minseok’s fighting a war with himself. you can feel the tension in his muscles, the way his fingers dig into your waist as he tries to filter his primal instincts into something slow and sensual. he doesn’t want to rush; he wants to savor the friction.

“you have no idea what you doing to me,” he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly vibration against your ear. his praises are like holy secrets, whispered confessions that only you’re allowed to hear. “so beautiful, so perfect for me.”

when the clothes are finally gone, minseok pulls you onto his lap, his large hands guiding your hips as you straddle him. he loves that you’re the one to lead, his eyes never leaving yours as you slowly lower yourself, burying him deep inside of you.

the sound he makes is a broken, airy groan—the sound of a man finally finding what he craves. he anchors you there, his palms molding to your hips and the small of your back, grounding you as you begin to move. he encourages you with those soft, threatless murmurs near your ear, his thumbs tracing the line of your spine while you ride him.

he lives for the way your eyes flutter shut and the way you find the exact rhythm he’s been dreaming of. to minseok, there’s nothing more sensual than watching you take exactly what you want from him.

later, he doesn’t let you go. he’ll keep you tucked against his chest, his legs still tangled with yours, his hands resting possessively on your hip after cleaning you. he’s quiet again, but the way he kisses your temple tells you that he’ll never let you go.

☆ — yixing

he has secretly been paying attention to all the things you really desire, secretly cataloging every hitch in your breath and every flush of your skin. he wants you to remember your first time as much as he will. of course he will act extra clingy, his lips constantly finding the sensitive curve of your neck, his voice a low hum of praise that leaves your cheeks burning. yes, he loves it. 

“i wanna show you exactly what’s been living in my head, babe,” he mumbles between possessive kisses. “every thought, every dream i’ve had of you… shit—” 

but the moment your hands turn bold, and your touch turns demanding, yixing loses it. fuck his soft side; he’s suddenly a storm of lust and unraveled fantasies. you lose track of where his mouth begins and ends as he claims every inch of you with a desperate heat.

his mouth finds your breast, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp, before he moves downward. he eats you out like he’s trying to prove a point—or perhaps just to confirm that you’re his. he won’t stop, his tongue working in a relentless siege until you’re arching off the sheets, craving him inside you.

yixing becomes obsessed with the way you want him—the little whimpers, the way you beg for more while your skin is flushed. he finally gives you exactly what you’re screaming for. he enters you slowly, a deep slide that makes your eyes roll back. he immediately captures your lips with his, swallowing your moans to keep the sound of your pleasure trapped between you.

as he settles on top of you, his pace shifting from a slow grind to a heavy, rhythmic drive that feels like it’s reaching your soul. “don’t hide from me, gorgeous.” he’s reclaiming every part of you he’s ever dreamed of, his movements becoming more frantic as he nears his own limit. when you two reach it, he collapses against you for a few seconds before his lips bury in the crook of your neck, wanting even more, just like you.

☆ — baekhyun

he’s a man unraveled—someone eager, hungry, and entirely focused on making you feel a great time. he’s been a student of your reactions for weeks, and now that he finally has you where he wants, but keep it in mind... baekhyun isn’t in a rush. 

making out session is a must. his tongue tangles with yours until you’re breathless and whiny. he loves to notice that you want him just as much as he wants you. and oh... he surely will tease you just to make you feel frustrated, just to make you want him even more, secretly trying to hide he’s nervous too. 

“love, are you impatient?” he chuckles against your lips, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and heat. “or are you just desperate for me?” his mouth migrates, leaving a trail of deep, wet kisses from the sensitive cord of your neck down to the swell of your breasts, leaving your clothes behind, slowly, tortuously. 

baekhyun cups your tits firmly, his hands massaging the soft skin with a possessive rhythm. he’s not really gentle; he bites your nipples—he sucks them too—his teeth grazing just enough to pull a sharp moan from your throat, before he soothes the sting with his tongue. but he doesn’t stop just there—his fingers slide down to find your cunt, stretching you out slowly, yet his mouth is working on your boobs. 

“i know you like that, gorgeous,” he murmurs with a cocky smirk, pulling his fingers out to suck them dry right in front of you. “sweet.” before he dives between your thighs like a starving man. he eats you out… and again, and again, and again, until his own lips ache.

he wants to give you everything at once, but your pleasure is his only priority. even when your first orgasm ripples through you, he doesn’t let you rest.

baekhyun keeps pushing your limits, fucking you with his fingers to keep the friction high until he finally replaces them with his cock. he slides into you with a deep, heave thrust that makes you gasp his name. he holds you so close you can feel the thud of his heart against your bear chest, every muscle in his body corded and tense as he claims you. and after he reaches his own peak, he keeps moving, his pace frantic and wet, driving you toward another climax before he finally follows you with his second one.

aftermath? baekhyun hauls you into a warm, steaming bath, but it’s full of sloppy, water-slicked kisses and lazy, uncoordinated strokes all over your body. he’s all silly smiles and whispered jokes, his hands never leaving your skin. there’s no shame left between you—just the comfortable heat.

“i told you,” he whispers, pulling you back against his chest in the tub. “i won’t let you forget tonight. not a single second… or i have to make you remember, mmh? you want that, gorgeous?”

☆ — jongdae

he’s the most attentive of them all. of course jongdae’s been extra romantic all evening, leaning into that cheesy, endearing charm that always makes your heart melt. he’s been dropping his lame jokes just to hear you laugh, using it as an excuse to steal quick, soft kisses against your cheek or the corner of your mouth.

you’ve noticed him trying to get closer all night—the way his thigh brushes yours under the table, or how his hands accidentally linger on the small of your back. you let him, leaning into his space and responding with boldness, as soon as he realizes you’re just as eager as he is, he becomes flirtier.

jongdae captures your lips in a kiss—deep, demanding, leaving you completely breathless. he pulls you onto his lap, warm hands immediately finding their way under the hem of your blouse. he explores your skin with a reverent touch, his thumbs tracing the line of your ribs while his lips capture yours.

he peels away your clothes as if he’s unwrapping a gift he’s waited so long for. and when you both are completely naked, he doesn’t hide anything. he lets you feel exactly how much power you have over him.

“see what you do to me?” his hands slide down to cup your ass and pull you even closer, grounding you against him. “just you.”

he lets you move over him, riding him at your own rhythm, loving the way your body bounces on him. he cups your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples until they’re tight and aching, before he leans down to draw one into his mouth. watch out... he takes his time.

jongdae loves your messy sounds—the whines, the gasps, the way you call his name. he catches your moan with his mouth, kissing you deeply, groaning in between, anchoring your hips, and driving into you with a heavy pace. oh, and surely he will praise you a lot while he pushes you toward your limits.

when your orgasm reaches you, he follows you instantly, burying his face in the crook of your neck, holding you so tightly your own body couldn’t be closer to his.

some minutes later, he’ll clean you, pulling the duvet over both of you, cocooning you in his arms. promising he will take you breakfast in bed the next morning. yes, he won’t hide his happiness from finally having you all by himself.

☆ — chanyeol

from the moment the door shuts, chanyeol is a bundle of nervous energy. he’s been waiting for this—for you—for so long that he’s actually a little bit intimidated by the reality of it. when he leans in for that first kiss, he’s almost a bit too eager, clumsy. but the second you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back in, the tension breaks. he melts against you, leaving a massive, shaky sigh of relief through his broad chest.

“sorry,” he chuckles breathlessly, embarrassed. “i’ve just... i’ve played this out in my head a thousand times, and i don’t wanna mess it up.”

chanyeol scoops you up into his arms as if you weigh nothing at all, carrying you to the bed with a sudden, determined stride. he kisses you so deeply, so thoroughly, that you barely have a second to catch your breath between the heat of his mouth and the weight of his body pinning you into the mattress.

clothes disappear in a frantic, tangled haze. soon, his large fingers are finding their way between your thighs, trapping you beneath him. he stretches you out with a focused, rhythmic patience. your hips buck against his hand, instinctively seeking more of him, and he smirks—that deep, rumbling dimpled grin—knowing he’s preparing you perfectly.

when he finally replaces his fingers with his cock, it’s a slow slide, but you have to wrap your legs around his waist to pull him even closer, needing to feel the full scale of him. chanyeol freezes for a second, his arms corded with tension as he peppers your face with tiny, frantic kisses. “you okay? you’re alright, baby?” he rasps, his voice a low, gravelly frequency that makes your toes curl. “i’ve got you.”

chanyeol starts at a slow, agonizingly sweet pace, but as he feels you relax and start to chase his rhythm, the fire grows. the weight of his body is a comfort—you feel every inch of him because his hands are everywhere. one second, they’re anchored on your waist, his thumbs digging in to claim you; the next, they’re sliding under your thighs to hike them higher, or cupping your breasts to feel the frantic thud of your heart.

“god, you feel so good.” he drives into you with a relentless pace, his large hands molding your skin as if he’s trying to memorize your shape. he urges to cum with you—a total, thundering surrender, his entire body going heavy and lax against yours.

afterward, he’ll wrap his entire body around you like a human shield, his chin resting on top of your head as he breathes you in. chanyeol whispers soft promises, while his hands stay possessively cupped around your waist, making sure you know you aren’t going anywhere.

☆ — kyungsoo

he doesn’t ask with direct words; he simply begins, his movements possessed by a calm, unwavering certainty. kyungsoo initiates the make-out session with a slow pull, one hand cupping your cheek with a possessive thumb stroking your jaw, while the other anchors firmly at your waist. when he hears that first, soft moan break from your throat, he won’t pull back—deepening the kiss into something wet and demanding.

kyungsoo undresses you with a torturous, methodical slowness. each button, each layer is treated with a reverent focus, his eyes never leaving yours as he exposes your skin. he watches your chest heave, enjoying the way your hands fumble with his own shirt in your eagerness, letting out a short chuckle at your impatience.

“patience.” he catches your frustrated huff with another deep, open-mouthed kiss. “we have all night, my love.”

kyungsoo settles onto his back and pulls you on top of him, letting you straddle his lap. for a moment, he lets you think you’re the one in control. but the second his hands find your hips, you realize that he’s the one grounding you, his fingers digging in just enough to guide your movements to his own steady, relentless pace.

and then… kyungsoo makes love to you with a terrifyingly calm rhythm, his eyes dark and dilated as they track every flicker of pleasure on your face. suddenly, he will stop. he just stops, holding you still while you’re flushed and panting, just to watch you unravel.

he just smirks at your frustration, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs grazing your nipples. “i like the way you look when you want more,” he rasps, his voice thick with a hunger he’s finally letting you see. “ask me again. tell me exactly what you want me to do, angel.”

kyungsoo only moves again when he can no longer resist the pleading look in your eyes and the sound in your voice. and yes, he won’t stop in just one round; there might be a second one—messy, heavier, and more desperate.

he kisses you hardly, his mouth searching for yours as if he’s trying to memorize the taste of you. of course, he’s exhausted, his muscles trembling with the effort of holding his own weight, but he doesn’t want to stop. he keeps driving into you with a slow, friction-filled grind that makes your head swim.

“don’t close your eyes,” he commands softly, his breath hot against your neck. “hold it a little longer. i’m not letting you go yet.”

later, he doesn’t say much, but he acts more... clingy. kyungsoo pulls you flush against his side, his arm a heavy, warm weight that holds you impossible closer. the way his lips brush your skin, and his nose keeps buried in the crook of your neck, tells you that even now, he’s still completely consumed by you. “thank you for this, love.”

☆ — jongin

he thinks he has everything planned. the movie playing as background noise, and a script in his head that he’s rehearsed a dozen times. but as you sit together, his nerves turn his movements into something hesitant and sweet. jongin tries to catch your attention with soft strokes along your forearm, his fingers lingering just a second too long against yours, stealing small, tentative kisses, but the smooth moves he practiced seem to fail him, so… he gives up.

he leans in, his nose brushing against your ear, murmuring softly: “can we… can we turn it off? i can’t focus on anything but you.” his honesty makes you melt. you’re flushed when you turn your head to him, him kissing you when you nod, and he gently guides your back against the plush cushions of the sofa. 

jongin moves with a cautious, breathtaking tenderness, treating you as if you were made of glass. between deep kisses, he behinds to peel away your clothes, his hands trembling just enough for you to notice. he lets out a soft, nervous chuckle when his fingers fumble with a button. “sorry. you’re just… so beautiful. i want this to be perfect for you.”

jongin puts you first in every sense of the word. his praises are hushed and reverent, whispered against your skin as he maps out your body with his palms. when he finally makes love to you, his hips move are slow and incredibly tender, filled with a reverence you’ve never seen before. he’s memorizing you—the curve of your waist, the heat of your breath, the way your fingers lock behind his neck when you’re close to your orgasm.

“stay with me,” he pleads, his voice breaking as he nears his limits. “right now, baby.”

but once that first peak passes, something shifts. he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom to claim you again. this time, the energy is different. jongin’s more secure, more confident—more him. he moves with a free, fluid intensity, his hands are possessive as they slide under your thighs to pull you closer, his lips claiming your neck. there’s no more hesitation when jongin drives into you with a purposeful heat, his mouth never leaving yours, making sure you feel him completely.

after your second orgasm, and by the time you finally collapse into the pillows, you two are a tangled mess of limbs and damp sheets. what he planned doesn’t matter anymore because what he has with you now is better. jongin peppers your face with sloppy, exhausted kisses, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over your heart.

“i love you so much,” he murmurs with a tired smile, pulling the duvet over both of you. “i’d never let you go, angel. never, never, never,” he repeats while his nose buries in your hair, squeezing your body with so much love that every part of you melts.

☆ — sehun

he starts the night with a restless, cocky energy. sehun’s a bit clumsy at first, knocking over a glass or fumbling with his phone, but he covers it with a smirk that says he’s doing it on purpose just to keep you off balance. he simply slides in, his long limbs tangling with yours until there’s no air left between you.

“you’re staring,” he murmurs, his voice a low, melodic tease. “do you like me?” oh, he loves to see you flush, so before you could say anything, he’s kissing you—deep, possessive. his hands are restless, playing with the hem of your blouse, his fingers grazing the skin of your stomach just enough to make you shiver. he waits until he sees that specific look in your gaze that gives him the green light to keep going.

sehun loves the power shift. he pulls back just long enough to shrug off his shirt, his broad shoulders and lean muscle catching the dim light, before he starts on yours. in a few seconds, the make-out session turns messy and frantic, a collision of lips and teeth that neither of you can—or want to—control. 

when you reach the bed, and his cock is incredibly hard, he holds you closer, spreading your legs to finally slide into you. the last of his composure shatters; sehun loses it completely, a ragged, heavy breath escaping him as he anchors himself inside you. he holds you so close it feels like he’s trying to pull you under his skin, his mouth finding yours again in a feverish exchange of tongues and breathless whimpers.

“god, you’re so… so fucking tight,” he wheezes, his forehead dropping against yours. he moves slowly at first, making sure you’re adjusted to him, but the second he feels your hips bucking to accelerate the pace, he matches your energy with a sharp, cocky grin.

sehun immediately takes the lead, his rhythm becoming rapid and relentless as your bodies find a pace made only for the two of you. you’re reaching for him, your fingers digging into his back, and just as the tension reaches a breaking point, he catches you off guard. with a sudden, powerful surge of strength, he rolls you over in the middle of the bed so you’re on top now.

he groans as you settle over him, his large hands immediately coming up to cup your ass and mold to your curves, pulling you down for another deep, soul-searing kiss. he wants to see the look on your face when you break, his thumbs tracing your lips while he watches you reach your orgasm. but he isn’t any better—his whole body tense, burying his fingers on your skin, trembling in desperation.

after you both shatter, neither of you wants to move; the exhaustion is a warm, weighted blanket. he stays there for a long moment, inside, simply breathing you in, before he finally finds the energy to move.

of course, he loves to tease you a bit. and he loves even more that you feel too comfortable by his side, he doesn’t have to act like anyone else to finally claim you.

sehun cleans you up with a surprising, quiet tenderness as he pulls you back into his arms to warm you. he can’t help but whisper one last flirtatious comment into your ear. “don’t get too comfortable,” he murmurs with a cocky smile. “i have a feeling i’m gonna want a rematch in about a minute.”

Isn't it too lively at this late hour? Many tents were still set up firmly, decorated with vivid hanging lamps on each booth. There are still a lot of visitors coming in and out. Feels so different on the first time you set foot here, especially seeing the unusual views. Yeah you admit that you’re not such an update student when it’s come to campus events. Seems like what your best friend said is true, you need to have a little fun at least during your college year.

‘Ding’ a notification sound lit up your phone screen under your grasp. A simple text message showed up the second you are tapping on it.

(Bestie) bae don't call me, my phone is nearly dying. Oh I’m in the blue one! Cya xoxoxo

Ah, seriously? You thought while typing a quick reply.

(You) mkayy

Whether you’re tired or something, the first thing you do is looking for a blue tent just like what 'you assume' she said. As far as the eye could see, there’s no sign of a blue tent around. You let out a deep sigh before decided to left the festival area. Thinking that it will be easier to find those place outside rather than in there.

Once taking a few steps out of the entrance gate, you see a beam of blue light radiating in the corner of the groups of tents. You approach where the light initially came from in confidence. Hoping to find your best friend then drag her home right away. But after you are getting closer, seems like it came through from a different place, which turned out to be separated from the festival booths. However, you still give it a go. Who knows she might be there, right?

The vibe is obviously too contrast, a faint upbeat music began to be heard clearly as you slowly enter the tent. Lot of unfamiliar faces are busy talking to each other. At the time like this, you regret not to be friends with another major students long before.

Beyond your expectation, the tent is connected to a building you've never been to. The deeper you go, the blue light becomes denser. You look around, groups of supposed to be female students surrounded each of male students, having an exhilarating convo that you still unsure about. But It’s giving a party to celebrate something. A slight hint of alcohol odor is also filled the room made you so sure of it. Your curiosity is answered once you saw a pile of football helmet proudly placed at the corner along with a big trophy next to it.

Well, it looks like you got lost here. Automatically shook your head after thinking of how this party coincides with the festival outside. You intended to get out as soon as possible. Alas, the group of girls you saw earlier simultaneously ran after one of the football players, till you pushed to the side.

Hand grabbed the door handle in reflex as you tried to stand still, “crazy, how famous are these guys here?” You said irritably.

Little did you know there’s someone next to you, chuckling at your words. His long fingers covered the thin lips of his, trying to muffle the laughter. Those voice was so satisfactionaly crisp that it tickled your ears. He stopped doing so after both of your eyes met.

Breathtaking. is the first word that comes to your mind. The way those eye smile formed when he is laughing despite a few strands of damp hair subtly covered it. His tall and quite slender figures caught your eyes the most. You can’t believe with those delicate look, he is literally one of them as the game jersey still wrapped around his torso perfectly fit. You stare at him in awe, wondering how pretty his pair of orbs can be if there’s a chance to looking at it up-close.

“Are you okay?” He asked after realizing you were lost in thought for a moment.

“Y-Yeah I’m totally fine.”

Leaning closer to you, he raised his voice a little bit right next to your ear. “But you don’t seem so. Perhaps, do you need something to drink?”

You're the one who's gone crazy, the music has been this loud ever since. How can you mesmerized at this man to the point you could caught his laughter so clearly before. You tried to collect your own sanity before lean over to him,

“No thanks, there’s only booze that I see around.”

His mouth form an “A” shape for a couple of seconds, before fully suggested you something, “I have some water. If you don’t mind, c’mere.”

You nodded as following his back behind, opening the door that you held for your dear life a few minutes ago, which is the football team’s locker room. Even this room decorated with much darker blue light just to match the party vibes. At least your hearing is saved as only less loud music can be heard outside.

He handed you a black metallic water bottle, “I never see you before.”

“Uhm well, actually my faculty is 5 buildings away from here. So.. Yeah” You gulped down the water that he offer to you. “Thanks by the way.”

“Sure no problems.”

After that only silence remained, the mood’s shifting undeniably fast. Looking at how awkward both of you right now. You pay close attention to what is printed on his back. ‘Baekhyun’ and number ‘04’ are visibly written on it. Sometimes he took a glance at you only to catch you red-handed staring at him so intent. Feeling like a blood rushed up to his head, he's too shy to say anything. He decided to brush it aside by ruffling his still damped hair.

Your fingertips itching to reach his front bangs while blurting out few words under your sense, “you’ll catch a cold if you don’t dry your hair properly.”

As your hand nearly touch his hair, he grab it swift motion. “Just.. don’t touch it.”

“Ah sorry I didn’t mea-”

Before you succeed pulling your hand back, he brought it to his cheek while keeping the eye contact with you. Slowly, his lips putting a soft kisses by the end of your palm. “Can you dry it off for me?”

Without a single thought, you reach an unclaimed towel that’s neatly folded on the bench. Then stretching out your hands to dry his hair off as you positioned yourself face to face along to him. At first you actually did that heartily. But after you realized he didn't let go of his gaze towards you as if you would disappear at any moment, your rationality poofs away.

Too dangerous. Your heart beats goes up in rapid speed. If it’s not under the dim light the flushed cheeks of yours would definitely be seen by him,

“why.. you keep staring at me like that?”

“Because I want to.”

“What If.. I want you?” Fingers squeezing through the hem of slightly wet cloth that cling on top his head as you expected perhaps a rejection.

“Well, If that’s the case,” he tucked your hair behind your ear, “I will let you have me.”

His index finger lifted your chin, demanding an eye contact meanwhile his other hand busy untangled your clenched digits to be interlocked with his. Bodies lean forward, the tip of lips are nearly touching, the scent of soft linen and a hint of floral mixed into one only to tease your sense of smell. His warm breath sparked the overflowing desire,

“Please.. don’t tease me..”

He chuckled with head hanging low for a mere seconds before his deep brown orbs seeking through into yours for once again, “first I need to know your name, young lady.” While planting a quick kiss on the back of your hand.

Your lips trembled, stumbling upon the word by word of your own government name which ended up make him burst in laughter. He find you too cute to be true. “Your name is beautiful, just like you.”

He pulled you into deep yet passionate kisses. A slight of naughty smile formed on his lips, the way he felt your body shudder as soon as his fingers running from the nape of your neck down to the lower back. Moving in painfully slow motion.

Head’s going blank, eyelids are too heavy to open, you murmured between the making out session under your control. “But.. I’m not as beautiful as you Baekhyun..”

Out of everyone’s encounter him in romantic ways, you’re the one and only who’s flatter him using the word ‘beautiful’ at such timing. He couldn’t help, hiding an ear to ear smile against your shoulder. Till his soft whisper blown into your sensitive ear.

“Just wait, I will prove you wrong after this.” following by a michievous wink in the end.

The air around him filled with the scent of beeswax and dried lavender, sweet and haunting, the way perfume lingers long after its wearer has vanished. The same her perfume used to cling to him long after his sheets had gotten cold.

It had been two hundred and thirty-seven days since he held her, though Baekhyun no longer trusted time to tell the truth. Time betrayed him. Time trapped his mind and devoid it of purpose, with days bleeding into nights and nights into silence, the kind of silence that grows like roots around the soul, quiet and unrelenting.

Each morning, he woke to the same ritual: melt the wax, stir in the oil, shape the longing. Candle after candle, wick after wick. Some slender and tall, others stout and misshapen, moulded by the trembling of hands too tired to hope.

He had lit them all on the windowsill, where she used to display golden quince for the winter, on the table where they once shared tea and stories; and at the foot of the bed, where once their love knew no boundaries, now a cradle for his nightmares and his writhling cold body.

Nothing came. Nothing changed. She remained hidden as the maddening meaning of his torment.

His fingers moved absently over the smooth curve of the holder, tracing the ridges left behind by decades' touch. He remembered when it had been placed in his palm, still warm from her hand, and the soft murmur of her voice that trembled with a promise: “Light it when you miss me, and I will find my way back."

He couldn't make peace with her mission. He hated that he couldn't find resolution and his heart had been ripped apart when she chose her coven in his stead. He swallowed his bitter tears and dragged his chair closer to the stove, absentmindedly stirring his overcooked oats.

Baekhyun had memorized those words, said them back to himself again and again, as if repetition could make them real, needing to understand her, looking behind their meaning, searching for clues when there weren't none. But the truth was quieter than promises. It crept in like smoke, curling under doors, threading through cracks in the walls, whispering things he dared not say aloud:

"What if the way back no longer exists? What if she isn't coming?” He shook his head, denying himself another second filled with hopelessness.

The room around him pulsed with shadow, the only light, a flickering candle held between his fingers, its wax now dressing his pale skin, encasing him as if for eternity. Outside, the wind stirred the bare branches of the trees, a ghostly chorus against the glass panes. The world around him had begun to feel hollow, as though he was the last echo in a house long abandoned.

And still, he lit a candle once more.

Perhaps it was madness. Or faith. Or perhaps those two things were not so different anymore.

He whispered her name again, softly this time, barely out of thought, like a prayer never forgotten and the flame quivered, as if it heard him, making the shadows along the far wall shift, first subtly, then bolder and bolder…until…

The door creaked, opening wide and bringing in the bitter cold that stripped bare those lands. The candle flame died, darkness taking over.

His senses withered into shadow, yet within his heart, a fragile hope stirred, ghostlike and trembling, growing with each beat into a terrible crescendo, until it wrapped around him like a poison ivy, suffocating him with its haunting truth.

She...was...there.

The creature is surprisingly cat-like. The body shape is approximately the same, although sometimes it seems to be obeying laws of a different nature than animals you’re used to. Sometimes it moves in a way that’s not quite right. Sometimes it looks different than it did the previous day but you can never put a finger on why or how. Its tongue is cool and the saliva leaves a stinging sensation that feels more ticklish than painful. 

It’s watching you with its three unblinking eyes, round and dark with speckles of light, as if always mirroring the empty universe surrounding you. Unnerving perhaps isn’t quite the word you’d use. The creature’s stare is comforting in the same way a deja vu might be, the way a dark and lonely street might be if you could be sure you’re the only one walking it. Still, the doubt remains. The comfort is never certain. The cat might not be your friend. It doesn’t help that it doesn’t feel like a cat under your fingers.

If anything, it feels like the creature is trying to produce fur without knowing what exactly fur is. Sometimes it feels like running your fingers through thinly sliced seaweed, sometimes like silk. Sometimes it’s like the fibers covering its skin are trying to pull your fingers closer. Today, however, it’s doing a pretty good job. 

Its nose is as cold as the rest of its body. It’s smooth and when the cat nudges your jaw with it, it feels like metal. You can’t help the wobbly smile that appears in the presence of the creature. It might not be a friend, who knows if it’s not simply obeying some orders of its master, but at least it feels like it’s trying to comfort you.

You’ve seen it often. It often lounges around while you’re chased, it rests in their laps or their shoulders sometimes and they treat it gently. If you held less fear and more desire towards your captors, perhaps you would be jealous of it.

You wrap your arms around the creature, hug it to your chest and even if you do panic at the purr-like noise it makes, you can’t be upset with it. It rubs its head against yours, it behaves just like an affectionate cat would. If you close your eyes, you can almost imagine you’re back home. 

“What do you think you’re doing here?”

You jump and bang your head on the top of the desk, wincing. His voice sounds unamused. Angry even. You know you’re not supposed to be hiding. Not from Baëkhyun. He prefers the chase. The cat in your arms makes a chirping noise and you relax your hold on it, giving it an option to run away. To run to its master. To run away. To be smarter than you. It doesn’t, however. It curls itself comfortably on your chest, rubbing its head against you in contentment.

You want to look at him. You want to know if you're in trouble. But you don't dare. Your head hurts. You want to move further into the corner but your body is frozen and not even the creature curled up on your chest helps.

“Interesting,” you hear him mutter in a tone you've never heard before. Alarms blast in your head. New never means good around here. You hear movement. You brace yourself for impact, you brace yourself for any manner of pain. There's none.

“Aren't you careful today?” he hums, “Look at me.” 

You do. Slowly, cautiously, and find a smile on his face. It doesn't seem malicious, but it seldom does. Baëkhyun is very good at deceiving you, illusions are his specialty. His hand hovers just an inch from your face. When it makes contact, it's cold but soft. It doesn't hurt. When he strokes your cheek with his thumb, there's no claw cutting into your skin.

“Are you getting along well?” the alien nods towards the cat. He reaches for it, stroking its back as it lays in your arms. “My two cute pets together.”

You look down to the cat and shiver. Its… not fur anymore but tendrils reach out towards his fingers and wrap around them. You have an uncomfortable feeling they're communicating with each other. His face remains unchanged, however, so you can't guess anything. His affection is gentle, but that can shift any second. Towards you at least, you don't think he'd hurt the creature. Despite treating you both about the same at the moment. 

“Are you not afraid of it?” Baëkhyun asks, and he sounds genuinely curious, which immediately makes you suspicious.

“No,” you shake your head. He hums. The corner of his lips twitches.

“That's a little… mean,” he tastes the word on his tongue “Don’t you think?” 

His touch remains gentle. You don’t get a second of his attention. He seems oblivious to the seeds of terror sprouting in your bones, weaving into your soft tissues.

Then he drops his hand and you curl further into a ball, expecting a blow, but it doesn't come. Instead, he wraps his arm around your waist. He sits down next to you, his side pressed against yours and he pulls you even closer. His other hand is still messing with the cat's lapping tendrils, playful and carefree. The cat's watching you with a curious gaze. The eyes hidden in the skin of its cheeks blink open as well. You can't swallow. You can't breathe. 

You didn’t know about those, and now five eyes are staring at you, two more joining them when Baëkhyun turns towards you too. It’s too much. Their words start ringing in your mind. You should be grateful. They could get rid of you as easily as they abducted you. You don’t deserve anything. A being as useless as you doesn’t deserve attention. You don’t want any either… not under these uncertain circumstances.

“Why aren’t you afraid of it?” his voice is low when he asks his question, leaning closer until his lips brush against your cheek. The touch is light, if you weren’t so scared you might say it was enjoyable, but currently it only makes your tears overflow. 

Still, you know better than to let him wait, so with a shaky voice you respond: “It never hurt me.” It’s familiar. It makes me feel safe.

He makes a noise that’s a cross between mockery and sympathy. You feel something grab your jaw. It’s his fingers, smooth, warm. His other hand is still petting the cat. What’s holding you then? “I never hurt you with mine either, did I?”

Oh.

“Shhh,” he soothes you, the appendages around your waist gently massaging the small of your back. Your vision is out of focus. The world is spinning. You barely feel the weight of the creature on your chest.  “Little one, shhh.”

He’s right. He never hurt you with his tentacles, but that doesn’t mean he never will. And you made him mad. He had to scold you. He’s angry with you. That never goes without punishment. You dared to prefer a pet above him. That deserves more than a punishment. What that would be, you have no idea but you’re sure he does. He’s always so creative. Your lungs are burning but you don’t dare to breathe. You’re not deserving. You insulted him. You’re useless. You-

“Hey,” he says, his voice domineering and stern. It’s a reflex that you immediately snap to attention, your eyes lowered but face tilted towards him. “Don’t go anywhere. Stay with me. Breathe.”

So you do. Slowly you inhale and exhale. You keep your breathing stable even when the tentacles wrap fully around your waist. Your mind fills with images of him squeezing the life out of you, of him severing your torso from the rest of your body. You breathe anyway. Would your eyes pop out of their sockets if he put enough force into his hold? Would you feel it - and how much would it hurt? Would it make him laugh? 

That’s what you should care about.

If only you could get it through your thick skull that it doesn’t matter if you live or die - what matters is that he’s not bored. Or rather that all of them are not bored. You should remain pliant and rest assured that they are satisfied with you. Never go around upsetting them, just a toy at their disposal. How much easier it would be if you could be happy seeing them happy. 

And well… It’s not like you’re not. They can be pleasant when they’re happy. Easier to deal with. Not as cruel, more prone to taking care of your basic needs. Maybe they’re getting used to what you need just like you are getting used to them and what their uses for you are. It could be worse. They… they seem to be fond of you. In their own way. There’s some reassurance in that.

The cat is weighing down on your chest. You can feel it again with each rise and fall of your chest. It brings you back into your own body. It’s heavier than it should be - than it would be if it was a creature of Earth - but it doesn’t feel bad. 

“Just like that,” he encourages. His voice is friendly. You don’t trust it. The tentacles still pulse around your body. They don’t feel like a threat. The only thing stopping your body from melting into him is your fear. Even if he could ignore how well you treat his pet compared to him, he won’t tolerate insults. It’s only a matter of time before he strikes.

You should’ve been more careful. You shouldn’t have let yourself be found in the first place.

“Tell me, hm? Did I ever use these,” he punctuates the word by squeezing your waist with the appendages, “To cause you pain?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“See? That’s so easy then. Why would you be afraid?” he chuckles, his hand patting your knee. Before your thoughts can turn properly bitter thinking about the answer you won’t voice aloud, he continues. “Did anyone allow you to be afraid?”

The words feel like a bucket of icy cold water poured over your head. Your body locks itself up completely with tension so tight it’s even hard to breathe. All over again you get stuck inside your own mind. Were you doomed from the start then? From all the way before the chase even began? The alien just laughs. Only his voice is able to override your panic and get through to you, lest you make your situation worse by unwittingly ignoring him.

“What fun would the hunt be with a prey that’s not scared?” he leans his head against yours, well aware that your own body won’t allow you to move an inch, “Did you enjoy hiding with my pet, my pet?” 

You… Did you? Meeting eyes with the animal, all you see in the five dark orbs is your own reflection. He has yet to pull away from you. It almost seems like he’s resting. Like he doesn’t mean to harm you. In the cat’s eyes, it’s just a peaceful scene. Like a family. A couple. You’re the one who seems off. You’re the alien one in the picture you see. Unnaturally tense, your posture uncomfortable and unlike what you should be in a similar situation. You don’t fit there. You’re ruining it.

“I told you to stay with me,” you hear his voice right next to your ear. You realize you’ve stopped breathing again but when you try to take a breath - you can’t. Something’s wound so tightly around your waist and all the way up to your chest that you can’t breathe. You feel the tentacles pulsing and it’s a soothing sensation, but their hold is too strong. Confused and panicked, you look at Baëkhyun, who holds your gaze for a couple seconds before he eases the grip just enough so you can breathe. You don’t look away as you take in the air calmly, the limbs around you too tight to breathe in deeply. He watches you intently, his tentacles following each rise and fall of your chest. Eventually, you calm down and your eyes fall closed. 

You feel exhaustion that you cannot ignore. Living with them is almost constant fear and stress. It’s been taking a toll on your body for far too long. There are always bruises and little wounds your body needs to heal. The constant state of exhaustion and desire to sleep likely doesn’t help your already cracked and fragile psyche at all. Despite yourself you feel giving in, tension dissipating from your muscles involuntarily. He hums, satisfied it seems. He holds you securely with his tentacles, one hand still stroking your knee. The cat…?

You open your eyes to find it gone. You frown, turning to face him again but instead something soft and moist bumps into your head. It feels like seaweed. The creature makes a rumbling noise that’s followed by a chuckle.

“It really likes you,” Baëkhyun notes and not a second later there’s the now familiar and comfortable weight curled on your stomach. The cat’s now back to sleepily blinking up at you with three eyes. “You’re lucky.”

You want to ask why, want to ask what would happen if the creature didn’t like you - but you don’t necessarily want to know. Maybe that’s your problem - asking too many questions that ultimately don’t matter. What matters is them and what they desire. You should already know that by now. You move your arm, surprised to find it hasn’t been bound to your body, and stroke the cat’s kelp-like fur.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper softly. What if the “lucky” part wasn’t necessarily connected with the cat at all? 

“Ah, so you know you’ve done something bad,” he hums, crossing his arms over his chest. The tentacles rest wrapped around your body. They don’t move. You don’t like the uncertainty, but you don’t have enough strength left to anticipate his reaction. Your body has run out of adrenaline a long time ago. “Did you do it on purpose?”

That’s a tricky one. It’s not like you wanted to disobey him, but you couldn’t take it anymore. You didn’t have a choice. Your body made the choice for you, really. You’d lose your mind if you kept running, knowing it’s pointless because he’s always gonna catch up. Or you’d run into another one of them and you’d be twice as fucked. 

“N-no,” you swallow heavily, “I… I couldn’t go on.”

“That’s not what I asked, is it?” he clicks his tongue but he still looks more entertained than anything in the cat’s eyes, “I asked if you hid here on purpose, knowing it’s not what I want you to do.”

There isn’t such a thing as black and white in this world. It’s truly not like you purposefully hid here to disobey him. You’re still learning to go against instinct, to stop listening to your own body. Ultimately, though, it’s all just an excuse. 

“Yes,” you admit quietly. What else is there to do? “I did.”

You hear him sigh. 

“What to do with you, hm?” he wonders aloud. You feel his eyes on you, scanning over your body. His tentacles squeeze you tighter, but you can still breathe at least. You can’t move much more than that. Whatever his thought process was, however, it gets interrupted. A gurgling sound comes from the creature on your tummy. It startles you - it is no sound that you’d wish to hear a cat on Earth make - but Baëkhyun simply turns his attention towards the creature, lips slightly parted as though in shock. 

You don’t like it. Your body won’t react to the panic you feel and it makes the situation worse. This is no time to let yourself be a ragdoll but you have no strength left. It’s just like when all the aliens are speaking amongst themselves, their language incomprehensible to you, resonating in your mind so strongly that it makes your head hurt. This staring contest he has with his cat doesn’t hurt you at least, but somehow it feels more sinister. Did you wrong the animal in any way? It is just a charade he’s playing, merely pretending, like humans often do, to communicate with the cat?

The creature hisses and you jerk, legs kicking as if you could move away when it made bed on your stomach. It immediately makes a softer sound, an inquisitive meow. Almost a meow anyway. Its eyes are round and curious looking at you. They turn into harsh slits when the alien next to you moves and the cat turns its attention towards him. It makes your chest fill with a sense of warmth, a feeling you were prepared to never feel again. It doesn’t last long. You’re sure there will also be hell to pay later. If by some miracle the cat’s affection will gain you mercy now, his anger will catch up with you when it’s gone.

“Interesting,” he mutters under his breath, and his tone is not exactly as carefree as it usually is. You will lose your mind soon if something doesn’t change. 

You hear the cat meow again before you realize you started crying. The soft creature climbs over his tentacles and bumps its head on yours, rubbing against you like it means to comfort you. You sniffle, touched again by the rare moment of gentleness. All the same, the distraction doesn’t last long. 

As soon as Baëkhyun shifts, presumably turning his body towards yours, the cat hisses again, swatting a paw towards his extended hand. Its claws are larger than what should be possible, like the entirety of the tissue changed to extend and become the claws. It terrifies you. Not the cat - but its future.

“Mean,” the man scolds the creature with a frown, “Stop it.”

And that’s it. 

You watch in shock, mind whirling from the twists and turns of their interactions. He moves closer to you, one arm now resting over your waist after the tentacles adjust for him to hold you, and the other behind your head. You have no strength to resist. You wouldn’t anyway, even if you’re terrified because this is what he wants and therefore what needs to happen. The cat snuggles between your bodies, purring lightly, and you try to consider that a good sign. It must be, right?

“I think it’s gonna claw my eyes out if you don’t calm down,” he… whines…? You’ve never heard him like this and it makes you inhale sharply. New never means good. As a result, you hear a threatening mewl. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Baëkhyun holds you closer. The tentacles hold you too, and you’re a little grateful because you’re not sure you could hold yourself up like this without them. Still, the situation is new, unexpected. Not necessarily uncomfortable, but alas…

“Isn’t this what humans do? Why are you still like this?” he continues to complain as he pulls away slightly to look at you. For once, he seems genuinely confused. There is no mocking undertone to his voice or expression. It doesn’t feel good. A heavy sense of foreshadowing settles over you. He’s going to throw this in your face as soon as the cat’s whims change and it leaves.

How are you supposed to confess it all to him?

“I’m scared,” you say in the end. That’s what it all boils down to. Your body might be too weak to show it, but your heart is heavy with it; your soul and mind are tormented by the fear and anxiety of what is to come. The finer details don’t matter all that much, not to him anyway. And if they did, what’s he gonna do? He can’t erase what they’ve put you through so far. 

“Why are you scared?” he huffs, “I’m holding you.”

You wish it was as simple as that. You wish there was any sort of security to be felt in his arms, or at least a promise of it if nothing else. But it’s not always the case that when you’re held, you’re safe. If at least you had anything like that to rely on, this whole situation could be so much better.

“You hurt me when you hold me,” you remind him quietly. You didn’t think you could ever do something like that - to be bold and honest like that. Maybe it’s because you’re so tired, or maybe because you’re already in so much trouble that basically nothing even matters anymore. Still, you’re too afraid to look at him, so instead you look at the animal curled on your chest that’s watching you right back and stretches its neck to touch your nose with its own. 

“Not always,” he clicks his tongue, and his voice betrays his frustration. You flinch when he raises his hand to run it through his hair. Another sharp glare follows, the cat blinking the eyes that usually remain hidden open. It’s loveable, you decide. You like the animal. You will protect it. Not that you’ve seen it abused in any way, but your heart wouldn’t be able to take it if anything happened to it. Baëkhyun soothes it with a couple pats that seem a little too cautious.

You want to protect it. But that’s all supposing you have any power to protect another living being while you’re powerless to protect even yourself.

“I’m not hurting you now,” he adds after a while, “And it wasn’t my plan anyway.”

“Plans change,” especially yours - you want to accuse, but it comes out as a meek complaint. Not even that, just words whispered to prevent silence from occurring. 

He studies your face for a while. You don’t know how to read the face he’s making, so all you can rely on is the cat once again happily curled under your chin. 

The punishment that will come will be terrible. It makes you nauseous already. The alien’s calm doesn’t help at all. It seems like he’s genuinely unbothered by the whole situation, but that’s not possible.

Is it?

He sighs, turning away from you. You hope you can trust the animal’s judgment. Hope it hasn’t changed its mind about protecting you - or whatever truly was the nature of its behavior. There remains the chance he’s just messing with you. It doesn’t feel like any of them would appreciate it if you felt safe here to any extent. Although it’s probably just a one time whim of the cat to want to be with you. Then there’s also the possibility that Baëkhyun can indeed communicate with the cat and it’s all an elaborate scheme to get you to relax before once again crushing your hopes. From what you’ve seen, the creature is much like an Earth cat, but nothing’s ever certain here. 

While you get lost in your thoughts, or maybe even drift off - your body is so weak, after all - you barely notice the shifting tentacles. They slide easily and gently around your body. It’s nothing new. It freaks you out, usually, when you have enough energy for such intense emotions. You only notice the movement when you feel your head rest against something. The cat stirs enough to brush its nose on your jaw before yawning and stretching out on Baëkhyun’s chest. The same chest your head is resting on. His arm is wrapped around you again, holding you close to his side same as his tentacles. More of them are draped across his chest to reach you, and they hold you too but honestly they feel more like a weighted blanket. If only they felt just as safe and reassuring.

You struggle a little but he shushes you immediately. 

“You could’ve had this in a more comfortable spot,” he chides softly, “It’s your fault you chose to hide here.”

You know it’s a lie. If you didn’t hide, if you kept running… No, with this one there’s too many options. Maybe it’s also possible he’s telling the truth. You want to believe it. You’re so tired. You just want to believe in safety. The cat is cute. It seems to be protecting you.

It’s pointless to struggle anyway. He’s stronger. If you make too much fuss, the others might come too. It’s not worth it. You want to sleep. You feel your body shutting down with each second. Better sleep now under the cat’s watchful eye than risk it leaving without getting a second of peace. You need to rest. You can’t remember when was the last time you slept, so you suppose your body is simply jumping on the tiny bit of comfort you feel now.

“Why aren’t you sleeping yet?” Baëkhyun asks, and his voice is soft enough that the cat nuzzles into his chest before snuggling closer to you. The tentacles shift, maneuvering you more comfortably to his side. To his credit, everything he does is uncharacteristically careful and mindful of your broken body. You wonder if it’s hard for him. You hope it is. You hope he’s not simply choosing violence in all his interactions with you, you hope it’s only embedded in his nature. “Why fight it?”

Truth is - you want to sleep. You want to succumb to exhaustion, you really do. It’s almost an out-of-body experience to be awake now. You’re not sure you can feel your body right. It’s as if it already fell asleep but your consciousness struggles to catch up.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” he coos at you. As if that would allow you to relax. You wonder if he means it as a reassurance. Or a promise - a threat? “You don’t need to worry about anything now. Leave it all to me.”

…yeah. Yeah. That’s what you should do. It’s what they always tell you. If you do, everything they do feels more merciful. More intimate. You know he’s going to take care of you. In his own way, that is, which isn’t always the same way as you’d like to be taken care of. But it doesn’t matter. You can’t move anyway. Your tongue and your eyelids are too heavy. What else is there but him? 

Eventually, you do lose to sleep. He holds you for quite a while, watching as your chest rises and falls. He feels the movement pushing against his tentacles. It’s so peaceful, he thinks, the way humans sleep. Holding you feels like holding a beating heart. It’s rare, he realizes too, to see you sleep. Usually you just pass out. There doesn’t seem to be much difference from what he can tell. But somehow it feels different. You feel softer. He could pretend you trust him.

The cat stretches and it’s his turn to glare. He doesn’t want you to wake up now that you’ve finally fallen asleep. The creature doesn’t seem to mind him, much happier to cuddle closer to you. It’s a scene he never thought he’d see, mostly because he didn’t think the animal would be interested in you. Clearly he was very wrong. It’s adorable how protective it is over you. His two little pets. He looks forward to telling the others.

But that can wait, for now he’s content like this. There doesn’t seem to be much difference between you and the cat.