Mochi

“Caleb, I-I'm sorry, please, just don't-"

Without warning, Caleb smashed his lips against yours, catching you off guard in a matter of seconds. He didn't listen. He didn't fucking listen.

You tried to wriggle away from him, your palms pushing at his chest with all the might you had. But Caleb grabbed your wrists securely, and he shuffled around to lay you on the bed. You fell with a thud, hands above your head as you heard him taunt you.

"You've been such a bad girl. What makes you think I'll listen to you?"

Once his hands were shuffling underneath your dress, panic flooded your veins, the tears in your eyes enveloping your vision. You shouldn't let this happen, but every time you tried, Caleb would threaten you, holding a gun to your head. 

This time, his gun wasn’t on him, and before you could even try to protest again, an invisible weighted blanket descended upon your arms and hips, holding you against the mattress. His evol.

He slowly dragged down your cotton panties, an arrogant smirk planted on his face as he cooed at you, wiping your tears with his thumb.

"Don't cry, you know what happens if I catch you doing something wrong," his lips suck on your collarbones and his hand finds your bare pussy, "don't you remember what happened before, hm? Fucked your brains out when you tried to attack me with my gun.”

His fingers rubbed your clit in a soothing motion, and you shut your eyes for a moment. The heat that grew inside you was supposed to be forbidden, yet your body let it happen. You shuddered as his words turned more erotic by the second, and his fingers soon collected your slick that made your pussy glisten with bliss.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're getting turned on pretty quickly."

Caleb groaned at the thought of having you all over again, and his lips connected to yours. This time, it’s messy. His tongue licks at your open mouth, teeth clashing against each other, and you whimper into the kiss. His hands are rubbing you at a faster pace before he slips a finger inside and you moan.

He pushes his finger in and out, curling at your walls, the perfect touch setting you ablaze as you cry out. He begins to add another finger, pumping them slowly as he feels you clench around him. The pleasure starts to grow on you immensely—breaths getting heavier, sweat clinging onto your neck as you bite your tongue to stifle out another moan. Caleb notices; he always notices everything. 

He scoffs at you, pulling the straps of your dress down, and his eyes lock onto your perky tits. 

“Poor baby.” 

He tilts his head at you before his lips attach to one of them, hungrily sucking on them. His wet tongue rolls around your nipple, teeth clamping onto it harshly, causing you to involuntarily arch your back. The mix of pleasure and pain increases your arousal, heat now dancing on your skin as your heart pounds in your chest. You were practically immobilised by his evol, unable to do anything to get him off of you. Yet, that feeling in your stomach tightened, and your legs twitched for a split second, and you knew what was coming. 

“Gonna cum pipsqueak?”

His words vibrate on your chest as his mouth moves onto the other one. You catch the mess decorated on your breasts, spit glistening from Caleb’s act, and when he catches you staring at him, he emits a low growl, fingers pressing deeper into that spot that has you gasping. Fuck, just seeing Caleb like this made you clench harder on his fingers. Your consciousness of getting out of this situation was withering away, and your mind slowed with your thoughts, and bile rose in your throat. 

Shit.

This wasn’t right. 

You watch as Caleb continues to litter your body with marks, hot-wet kisses peppered from your neck to your thighs. His fingers continued to hit that spot, palm grazing your aching clit. The knot in your stomach was tightening, and anxiety was washing over you—the words leave your mouth before you could stop them. 

“Caleb, just fucking stop, please.” 

Your voice wavers at the end, your lip trembling as the tears begin to stream out. His fingers slow down, and his eyes soften at the sight of you. He leans his face close to you, and you admire his features: the messy brown hair and those alluring violet eyes. The very features that drew you to him, the Caleb you thought you had always known. Though when his facade began to crack, and his real persona shone through, you had no chance of getting away from him. Not when he wanted you all to himself. 

He doesn’t wipe your tears, though. 

No.

He’s admiring you. Admiring how scared you are of him, and he grins menacingly. Your heart sinks at his next words.

“Aww, pip’s we’re doing this again? You just don’t wanna cum do you?” 

You have no time to respond when he grabs your thighs, spreading your legs wider as he brings them close to your head and his fingers piston in and out of you. The new angle has you squirming, a whine emitting from you. You feel his evol wrap around your legs, entrapping you in this position. His eyes are giving you a mocking look, and he lets out a dark chuckle, whispering right on your lips. 

“Have you forgotten why you’re here, hm? Is my darling slut forgetting the rules I have placed? Why don’t you tell me what you did today?” 

His fingers hit that spot deliciously with the new angle, and it has you trembling, mumbling a soft ‘fuck’ as you feel your orgasm approach closer. It’s getting harder to fight off the pleasure, your mind screaming at you to do something. It doesn’t help when he purposely pinches your clit with his other hand, and you cry out.

He grabs your face, eyes darkening as he glares at you.

“Aw, going dumb already? Tch, I asked you a question—what did you do today?” 

The look on his face with his condescending words made you realise you didn’t have a choice. 

A sob broke out of your lips, “I-ah- tried to leave.” 

Caleb nods his head slowly, a mocking gesture as he watches your breath get shakier, feeling your needy cunt clench tighter. 

“What a smart girl, yet you weren’t smart today, were you?” His tone is flat, disappointing and irritated, while fingers rub at your clit now, your orgasm approaching quicker. 

“Smart girls don’t break rules; they follow them. And when I tell you that you can’t leave the house at all, then you can’t leave. Understand pips?”

You meekly nod your head, and Caleb leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“Because of that… you’re going to come on my fingers, and I’m going to fill you up as many times as I want.” 

Your heart stutters at his words, and you can barely register what happens next as your orgasm crashes, a silent moan leaving you, and you soak up the sheets as well as Caleb’s fingers. You don’t have time to catch a breath when you hear the sound of a zipper that catches your attention, and you protest immediately. 

“Caleb, please don’t do this. Don’t come in me, please.”

When his cock springs free, your eyes lock onto the angry red tip, his girthy size and length twitching, aching to be inside you. He ignores your pleas, aligning his cock right at your entrance. 

Instead, he grins wickedly. 

“This will give you a reason not to leave again.”

He slides in one single push, groaning as he throws his head back, teeth biting his bottom lip harshly as he slowly starts to set a pace. 

“Shit, you’re tighhtt.” You hear the roughness behind his lustful tone. 

Feeling his big cock inside your needy pussy instead of his fingers had you in a chokehold. Your face contorts in pleasure once he gets faster, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix at every thrust. His hand latches onto your throat, his balls slapping against your ass, and he lets out a deep moan. 

“Look at you,” he coos and taunts when your eyes roll back, “smart girl goin’ dumb on her gege’s cock.” 

You clench at his words, whining when you feel his fingers on your clit again.

“Fuckkk, aren’t you such a filthy girl? I know you wanna come so bad, pips. Come all over this big cock that’s turning you into a brainless slut?”

His degrading words have the knot in your stomach tighten further while he groans.

“Shit, I’m close pips.”

“I’m gonna come in you, okay? Gonna—fuck— come in this fucking needy cunt, and fill you up. Gonna make you have my babies. Fuck, don’t you want that pips? Be pregnant with my kids?” 

Caleb rubs your clit in fast circles, hiking one of your legs over his shoulder as he thrusts even deeper into you. You arch your back, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as he spits onto your pussy, watching the way his cock slides in and out of you, wet and sticky with your arousal, and the sight alone has him nearly coming. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna get you pregnant. That way, you’re always tied to me even if you—shit— try to leave me again.” 

His words fall on deaf ears, and you struggle to form a coherent sentence as you clench tightly around him. The pressure builds, toes curling as a high-pitched moan escapes you when you come on his cock, some of it spraying on his bare chest and thighs. He moans, his cock coming to a halt, twitching as thick, hot ropes of cum spill inside you.

“Fuck…”

His cock slips out of your hole, and he awes at the sight of your cum-filled pussy. His fingers gather up the mess, watching it drip out, and he pushes some of it back inside while biting back a groan. You feel so drained, so betrayed because he never came in you before. You don’t have the energy to fight him further, not when he flips you onto your stomach, feeling him behind you as his arm flexes around your neck, bicep pressing right at your pulse point. 

He kisses behind your ear, and you don’t notice the dark look on his face when he whispers to you. 

“You’re never going to leave me ever, not when you’re mine.”

Don't Leave ©Copyright -2026- themochiverse - All Rights Reserved

when the mask drops and the armour clatters to the floor after it — zuko can be himself, let the tension roll off of him like the ocean’s steady drum beat against its sandy substrate counterpart. he can be free. like he is with his friends and the people who truly love him.

so it comes as no surprise when fire lord zuko becomes just zuko and chooses to spend his twenty-four hour release with you. 

duties have decided to be kind to you both. falling away and granting you a day where the stars align as though they’ve been perfectly hung next to each other in the sky — and the two of you have time to spare, time to spend by one another’s side. the princess no longer adorning her crown and the fire lord abandoning his armour. 

“what will you do?” zuko averts his eyes, amber finding cold slabs of stone beneath his feet more entertaining than the natural grace of the western water tribe’s very own princess. it’s amusing how shy he turns in the presence of someone who’s known him so long. even still, you treat him with the same amount of care as one would a beloved keepsake, as though he is the very book you reach for when new material runs dry. whose pages greet you with familiar scents of ash mixed with lost love. “w-with your time away?” he adds quickly.

the final council meeting of the week has long since ended. he finds himself at your side and a tower too high above your head as you walk with nowhere particular in mind. away from duty. away from honour. free. like a bird making use of its wings after hibernation. 

the grin you give zuko slips onto your face as though it’d been hiding somewhere away from the world, buried in the kinetic sand. “home.” where the water warms you and the sand is smooth and white and soft between your toes. a tropical solace away from the claws of advisors and military clerks. you stop in your tracks, the sea that you wear on your clothes fluttering around you — light, like sakura petals drifting in the breeze. then you pause, as though you’ve been struck by a poised tip of lightning — and if you lean into him any closer, the shock might wind between you both and zap right through him. “would you like to join me? you could use the sun on your skin and some warmth to your face, fire lord.” 

accepting your invite is as easy as turning a page, following the kind of naturalness that accompanies the desire to read past the final chapter before bed. zuko finds himself wanting to investigate between the lines of what he already knows from reading about you. you’ve been scorched by him before, as children, teenagers who moved with the type of attitude that feels like the world has dubbed them a mistake. he couldn’t tell you how he felt about you then, when he hadn’t learned the words or known how to protect you from himself. but he can now, now that you’re older and perhaps willing to forgive him. 

zuko follows you home for the day, with the hope of understanding the involuted web of his feelings. spider’s silk interwoven into a future he can't see, a mess he can’t make sense of.

those emotions that linger between every breath of saltine air — inhaled in his nostrils fresh, crisp like the snap of an apple. biting against his cheeks. different to that of the fire nation. his feelings sit there, ones he can’t explain away with battle plans and politics. things that make sense to him. not blurred or jumbled. you are confusing, complex, a puzzle piece he has trouble finding the right place for or an equation that has taken several centuries for even the best mathematicians to solve. yet, he’d follow you away from his home just for a taste of yours.

the western water tribe welcomes zuko with wide spread arms, as though he has finally come home. he’s visited before, on state business and for missions lead by aang… but not just for you. not with just you. at first the fire lord thinks that those of the tribe turn towards him just as if he were a source of godly light or heat — much like the spirited wildlife that weaves its way through the walls and arenaceous streets of your equatorial kingdom — because, like you, he is royalty. he is respected.

instead, zuko’s heart beams and yours shies away ( like the running tide, back home to its mother, the moon ) once he learns that is really because of  how fondly you spread word of him around the kingdom — the cabbalistic message is passed onto him from the people of your tribe. tales told to children born of salt water depicting him as a hero, your hero, in battle. secrets and gossip shared with elders who are loose-lipped confirming his beauty, his kindness. harsh critique and comparison to the fire nation passed onto the guards in the most leery parts of your kingdom — that compliment his battle strategy rather than disparage it like his elders.

in his absence, you speak of zuko with a certain air of fondness; the type that goes hand in hand with missing someone. someone more than a friend, but not quite a lover. someone who passes you like you are two ships passing by on different routes. different waters. longing lingering in the sea spray, heartache from the stars and the moon directing their crew.

perhaps, zuko observes, it is time to stop sailing on by. 

your laughter is light and kind and submerges him like the roots of a lily pad making a host out of spring stream — polite behind your hand — when the handmaids in your palace make an attempt to convince the fire lord that blue looks best draped against the pearlescent notes of his skin, rather than red. there’s a look of dread that washes over zuko’s features like a spill of oil on the surface of the sea. slick on his lips as they downturn at the corners, forming an amusing pout, whilst he turns in the mirrors. fabrics twirl loose and foreign on his body. free. where the lord’s usual armour sits tight and restricting like a militant regime. 

but then you melt when you look at him, as though you’re made of mercury or tungsten touched by a torch burning at the highest torrid degrees. palpable affection generously bubbling over, as though you’re admiring the most beautiful piece of art you’ve ever seen, almost as if he belongs where you do and where that is…is here.

he decides then that casting his anchor here would not be so bad. 

“do not worry,” you are honest when you reassure the fire lord. the beginnings of your heart, which he had once splintered unwittingly in his youth out of fear he could not love the way he had never been taught to, staring to peer out from its glass cage in your chest and behind the rise and fall of your ribs. “the colours match your eyes perfectly.” 

blue and yellow. amber and indigo. the sun and the sky. the tropical fish and the marine sea.

the colours of your home and your kingdom. the same colours that have and will stream through your life from start to finish, only dulling to grey when you inevitably  come to pass and fade from this world. the very colours of the people who have taken their time to help shape you into the formidable woman you are today. 

as soon as you say it, heat floods your face and broils beneath the surface of your sun-drenched skin. as soon as he hears it, zuko averts his gaze — feigning interest in the smooth silk that kisses his fingertips as though an angel had been there. his smile is tiny, breaching his visage. in the same manner that a blue whale would surface for air — gradual, slow, with the need to bring life into itself and the eyes of others. 

“thank you,” he unveils the compliment with carefully crafted earnestness — like protecting a sandcastle from the torrid temper of the sea on a bad day — overcoming the lodge in his throat to force his quiet fondness for you into the salty air. “yours too.”

this time, you look away — but he does not miss the spread of your lips into your cheeks. radiant, yet shy. something precious, a delicate secret. for him and for you. 

zuko thinks that he could stay here, set carefully adrift to become one with the landscape. spilling into the picturesque view of your kingdom as if someone had knocked over a palette of watercolour. 

that afternoon, zuko walks by your side with a little more confidence. the tropic’s coastal zephyr moves through your hair with the same force as unbridled joy — let loose, carrying no weight from the world and its own problems. 

it whips through the airy material of your clothes — shades of sapphire and ruby glimmering in the summer shine to your kingdom. you match each other, parallels of the elements that somehow go together. water and fire turn into fingers in gloves, two sides of the same coin, or two halves of a whole. faultlessly fashioned keys for long lost locks that open things never meant to be closed.

you are harmonious in a way zuko wished he believed in when he was younger. perhaps then there wouldn’t be this awkward distance between you — a push and pull of magnets that comes with the orbiting of one another. if he had realised back then, that loving you was nothing to fear in the first place, he wouldn’t have to wait for a pause in his duties to spend more than a morsel of time with you. searching for scraps in between schedules and missions just to breathe the scent of salt in your hair and sweet hibiscus on your skin — it's a desperation that wouldn’t even exist. 

because you would be his and he would be yours and nothing, not even a whisper, could keep zuko from you.

now, he is six hours into a day by your side that seems to be slipping through his coarse fingers like sand in an hourglass. except the day cannot be endlessly flipped to start again.

“i want to show you around,” you say with the cadence of someone who is proud of the roots their existence is founded on. there’s love in your heart, not just for your nation but it’s mothers and the mothers before them. zuko isn’t sure he knows what that’s like — the pride of being fire nation doesn’t come with tenderness. killing. lying. treachery. love comes from only a few close people in his life,  fleeting presences like a small spark between rocks. his mother. uncle iroh. his friends. you.

“but we don’t have much time left. there’s so much to see.” you add, your wistfulness curling into a pleasant gust of sea breeze as though your tone is reaching for a hand of comfort. these days, memories of your home grow faint despite the manners in which water holds it shape — between royal duties, adventures with aang along with the others and travelling in the hopes of keeping peace — replace what you knew as a child, 

palm trees wave to zuko as though they are friends he seems to have forgotten. something tells him that they know you too, calling to their queen as if to offer some kind of reassurance. the sand is still the same; even when the water dries; the parts of you that die still leave memories that remain. he doesn’t want you to be sad, to think that the kingdom you lead with such grace has forgotten about the lopsided grin from your youth and the funny way that you laugh to fill the silence, when the sound of turning tides is missed. he wants you to know that every flower of every tropical taint wishes to mimic your sweetness and your scent, that the people walking this path pause with awe when you smile at them as though they are family. 

your home loves you in the way that a mother loves her growing child. no matter the time apart, there are hands there to mend the holes in your heart with a stitch bearing threads of affection. 

the fire lord’s thoughts skip back to the present, your swaying fingertips brush. a sign. a vote of confidence for zuko.

breathing clean air into his lungs before he takes a leap, the firelord he claps at your hand in a silent promise of forever — one as vast as the stretching blue, deep as it is wide. zuko stands before you, willing to run wherever with you by the guidance of the beach’s breath — something firm about his grip, tender like he’s been blessed with something more precious than pearls and oil where he is but the foolish man that would dare to waste them. the carefree gentle lines of his face that creep into the edges of his scar read as though he knows which direction to head. as if he’s lived here within the western water tribe all his life and the song of the seashore knows his name, writing it in seashells right next to yours. destined in handwriting forged from the fingertips of the forces of nature. 

“then show me the parts you love the most,” zuko heaves with admission — heart open, flame free. “on our next day off, show me the rest. i want to see it all by your side.” he crafts his response with the same heedfulness as an artist close to completing a portrait — each brushstroke perfectly poised to ensure every colour conveys proper meaning.

the cognac and honey hue to his eyes have always signified safety and virtue.

you can trust when zuko says he wants to see it all. 

see it all. 

with you.

a wave crests against the sea wall that you walk together. thick and bold concrete that once would protect against the fire nation — but today, you think, you might let the defence fall. just enough to let him in.

“what about the day after that?” you whisper.

acting on an impulse of bravery, he squeezes the palm of your hand. 

“i’ll show you my home. more than just the council room.” he murmurs back. 

the implication is flirtatious, yet entirely too honest, see through like a sheet of paper held up to subtropical. perhaps there’s slightly more to zuko that you understand now that he’s older — you see his attempts to try. to fix what he broke as a boy with nothing but his honour at stake. at first your girlish heart feels scared to lean into it and trust the words to catch you like a friend who stands with open arms when you fall. 

but then you remember that you know him, like the salt only knows a home swirling at sea and the fishes know their reef, and the tide knows its tune. 

“okay,” you grin with the easy focus of someone taking the lead. ready to show zuko the world whilst intertwining your fingers like the stronghold rope your ancestors have used to fish and to survive for centuries before your birth. tied and knotted together with purpose. maybe, there is some kind of purpose in sharing this time with zuko — two souls bound to meet under the same sky with their fortune written in the cosmic stars. maybe. you lean into the feeling. you take him where your heart thrives most. 

you take zuko to the places where time stands still. the fish market that bustles with life by the docks, where he haggles with the monger to bring down the price and somehow leaves with three red snappers — that he has no idea how to prepare —  and a lobster he’d grown fond of due to its rich blue shell. (“will you eat it?” “i don’t think i can, it’s too cute.”). then, you spend two hours  rock pooling with the children darting from the school house down to the cove — because apparently they find it mind blowing that the fire lord has never touched a star fish before. 

unfortunately for them, you scold them all. including zuko, reducing the lord to an apologetic mess — because he almost finds himself poisoned by a brightly coloured sea slug lodged between bleached coral and barnacles. whilst bushy tailed and vibrant in personality, the children eagerly show zuko how to crack a muscle with nothing but a rock and the type of strength only a determined child would possess. their laughter meets the sea’s cooling breath at zuko’s many failed attempts.

his temper flares like that of bursting firework, a blush on his cheeks that rivals the red of his scar, because you’re watching and although it’s childish — he feels a need to prove himself to you. the failure, temporary, is worth it. for your hands gritty with sand and yet as soft as the briny ocean air against his cheeks, you teach him how to crack it open. cold water fingers on fiery warm skin. two opposites that make a whole. 

zuko he finds a pearl within a clam, one he gifts to you because it had reminded him of the gleam in your eyes. something about his boyish charm and the way he nearly slips on seaweed slick rocks just to give it to you as you tend to the children, melts your heart into a fond stupor. where the walls of your palace are adorned with the kind offerings and riches of the sea, a simple onyx pearl from the fire lord himself means more than anything in the world to you. 

someone who has everything, including the burdens of her own crown.

around lunch, an auntie at her market stall goads the young fire lord into trying a saltfish fritter — forgetting to mention the notes of scotch bonnet tucked into the batter and you swear on all things avatar that steam rolls from his ears and nose at the level of spice on his tongue. 

“you can’t handle a little heat? you’re the fire lord!”

 “i — hah — don’t see you trying one!” he fans his tongue with the same fierce determination that aang, the air bender, often displays. 

with silver coin you buy him a coconut flavoured ice-drink from another merchant, hoping it’ll cool the fever in his mouth. it melts too quickly between the warmth of zuko’s palms because you’re so close it makes him nervous enough to sweat. 

“ah, here!” you coo without realising. smaller palms gliding over zuko’s like water running over polished glass. “don’t let that melt.”

ice crystallises over the outside of his cup, freezing the condensation in place — it’s not as though you’ve frozen time but to the fire lord, the moment lasts forever. the instinctivity of your touch, the ease in which you tend to him, his stomach turns over itself like the switch of a current when the weather swaps its mood. 

he gulps, swallows — studies you with wonder like you’ve turned wine to water. “thanks… thank you, princess.” 

your own gaze follows the trail of his whispered words upwards, and your eyes meet. his laden with the kind of longing you’ve seen only exist between those destined to love in the stars. yours with surprise, hidden yearning lost in the colours of your eyes that reflect the light of sun on sea.

princess.

the pet name makes you turn away with embarrassment. zuko coughs to conceal his own. 

any onlookers must think their princess and the lord are utterly, tragically hopeless.

eventually, zuko finds himself entertaining the littler water benders, whilst you nurse the village back to order. too kind to say no to the people of your home when they seek your help — even on your day off. he doesn’t mind it too much, a spark of idolatry sitting within his sternum as he kindles flames for them to easily put out using splashes. as they grow bored, zuko sits still and patient as the young water bender girls take to weaving tropical flowers into his ink black hair — three  clambered into his lap and clinging to the broadness of his frame as they work with the better determination than his handmaids back home. you pretend that the jealousy in your gut isn’t there when you catch the sweet little girls  ask him to marry him and if they’ll become princesses when they do. 

zuko laughs them off, polite and patiently, gentle as the wisp of clouds streaking through the sky. “you should want to marry someone because they love you. not because they’re a prince.” 

“do you love someone, fire lord zuko?” one of the girls ask, nuzzling into his arm — eyes wide and glimmering like the surface of the sea catching on the sun. 

like second nature, amber eyes find your figure flowing through your tribe’s village as if you’d never left — carving out your path like water does when forming a new river channel. you move so naturally, playing with children one moment before you’re helping the elders wash their fruit and prep their fish in the next — rinsing it all off with your delicately practised water bending and his heart skips a beat as if it were missing from his chest for just a moment. 

“very much,” he hums around the words that feel like a weight off his chest to say, warm in the sense that they roll through his blood stream in search of replacing any cortisol there. of course, with a sprinkle of dopamine. “i think i always have.”

the fire lord — no — zuko, realises with frightening devastation that he loves you and never wants to leave you. here. home. he wants to be the wind beneath your soaring wings if you were to ever become a bird of the sea. he wants to wake up next to you with the view of crystallised aquamarine waters every morning and sometimes the burnt orange skies of his own nation. he wants to explore the chambers of your heart like a hidden cove off the coast and claim it as his own personal, secret treasure. 

later that night when the cries of gulls have quietened to the simple beat of their wings and the tropical sun tiptoes down the horizon to rest — zuko stands before you on the sea shore, heart on his sleeve so unlike him. so rare. feelings were never something that existed when he was younger, they were to be had and never to be spoken. the only emotions he knew how to express were rage. bitterness. souring anger. 

you’ve found your way to the beach once more; you know that his boat will dock here in the early hours — but you feel it would be better to say goodbye away from prying eyes of palace officials and diplomats that only wish him well for the sake of appearances and peace. quietly, you tip toe along the line of frothing white peaks of water and golden sand — arms out as if the wind will catch you if you fall from the unsteady drum to your heart. zuko follows you, not too close and not too far, as though he needs the space to think.

to speak what’s brewing in his mind, taking on the shape of a storm front. 

now, with the sky tinged pink, like his cheeks with the fresh heat in his face — zuko tells you of the warmth that burdens his heart as best he can. awkward, but still trying. 

“i think i might be in love with you.”

your body is still, then, but your garments — blue robes traded for something looser, teal ocean turned into silk — moves with the sea breeze that whips behind you. takes the ends of your braids and twirls it through windy fingertips. 

“might?” you ask, pure and curious.

“i know it.” zuko swears in return, quickly, like he’s been asked to recite an oath in exchange for his life.

crossing your arms over your chest, as though you’re shielding your vital organs from a cruel jab, you frown. “it doesn’t take a day to fall in love, my lord.” 

formalities come up quickly like a sea defence. you shield yourself from the angry wrath of your sea of memories. rejection from the past spilling over into the present day.

“yes princess,” he is even more hasty in his reply during this turn of conversation, in the sense that it almost feels like he is running out of time. your day off has dissolved like ice on hot rock, trickling away from you into a distant memory. soon, a boat will arrive to whisk him home and then there will be nothing but space between you once again. “but it has been years. since i—” zuko swallows. “since i first knew.”

“zuko.” you’re warning him, as one does before finding themselves eye to eye with an equatorial storm, because you’re not sure if you can go back to the way you felt before. humiliated and foolish. you’re no longer a little girl, a princess waiting for her crown and zuko isn’t the prince who left everything he knew behind anymore  — yet somehow he manages to wave it all away. the duty, the honour, the pressure put on young shoulders and the standards to uphold. 

you’re both children again, ones who feel like the world will end if they don’t do it right — hardly any room between their hearts and their lungs to take in love behind every breath and shout it out from roof tops where words stay trapped behind their teeth. was it love back then? when you had confessed your brewing feelings to zuko like it was as natural as bending and shaping the water to your will. how can it be love now? when you exist as different versions of yourselves. carved like a coast, adapting to circumstances like water takes to the vessel it is contained by. 

he whispers your name. “it doesn’t take a day to fall in love… but it has taken just one… for me to be brave,” zuko’s feelings spill from his lips like the blood of ocean prey drawn into water by a predator —  crimson against cerulean. you didn’t ask for an answer, but his comes as though it is a kiss pressed to your lips, unable to conceal a lie that’s lasted a decade. a falsehood where he doesn’t return your affections. “i’m not… i don’t lead with my heart. i walk into fights with my mind, not my emotions, because if i do, then the people i care so deeply about get hurt. but…  the greatest battle i’ve ever been in, is the one where my heart fought with my head and i failed to tell you what’s really been in my heart this entire time.” 

“i love you,” salt sits in the cracks of his lips as he licks them, anxiety sitting like a rock made of dense peridotite in his chest — weighing down his heart. if there was any inkling of you feeling the same, it would lift him.  “you… you don’t have to return any feelings for now. o-or at all! you may have even lost those feelings for me but…” zuko stumbles through his words, ones that take the shape of bended metal bullets — now that they sit bare between you both like a stretch of sand between shore and sea — he cannot take them back. “but just know it’s always been there, lingering in my mind, and i know now. that i have always loved you.”

the fire lord lays out his confession as though he is stood at the gallows begging for mercy on his life. 

and the realisation does not strike you all at once. instead, it is slow like the slip of the sun beneath the horizon as the world turns on and day fades into night. the whole day, you’ve been walking the edge, the thin and fine line that marks the divide between nostalgic comfort as friends and something a little more than lovers. like offering a shell that shines in the palms of zuko’s hands, he lets the decision land in your court. you decide what comes from this, where the winds take your spirits next.

for zuko, it has always been you. never a doubt. a single fact that rings true for as long as the heavens and sky above remain blue underneath pure white cotton cloud cover. 

what is it for you? was he always it for you? 

the version of the world from your eyes begins to blur with the tears that well in them. everything becomes a mess of water coloured skies and visions of zuko’s sunset silhouette as they fall fast while meaning well, a lifting relief washing away any dark in your heart like the way the waves rinse written word from sand. “you are so stupid, it’s nearly insulting,” you blubber, akin to your childish self from the past — stumbling into the fire lord’s arms before he can even think to hold them open for you. “the audacity for you to even believe, that for a second, that i stopped—” 

you nuzzle into his chest, his arms wrap around you like the sea that welcomes you home every time. familiar. warm against your skin. “that i ever stopped loving you,” you birth the words against his chest, covered in your colours and your fabrics and your life story. you feel his heart beat against your lips, your damp cupid’s bow, wild like the wind and somehow — calming. “the fire nation is ruled by an idiot.”

“i-i’m sorry?” zuko barks out a half laugh, one that whirls between the butterflies ablaze in his stomach. 

“don’t make it worse.” 

“i won’t anymore,” he quips, toes curling in the sand as if to hold himself steady. perhaps he feels faint, because in truth, you want him too. “it’ll be better. i will be.”

“i love you, zuko,” with your chin rooted against your chest, you peer up at the prince now grown into your first and only love — clinging onto his embers that catch in sea breeze as if to keep him in this moment with you forever. your confession vibrates through his bones and settles in their weariness, soothing their ache, letting his limbs rest after swimming against his true current for so long. “like the moon loves the sea. i miss you when you’re not with me, like the moon misses the sun when it sleeps.”

“i know. i’ve always known and i’m sorry that it took me so long to meet you here,” he commits, meeting you the rest of the way. under the same sky, a solar eclipse of two hearts. opposites. “i’m also sorry for being a teenage boy,” zuko chimes, unlocking a memory and distant conversation. “katara tells me that we are all the same.”

“you mean stupid? i’ve come to like you that way.” 

you beam with the same kind of mirth that zuko has always known to make his heart stop. from the moment he met you when the world needed saving up to now — where every person and every nation is coming to terms with the concept of peace. building a new future of harmony has not been easy and every day you do your parts to ensure the world never sees what it was one hundred years ago, ever again. right now, zuko thinks, he could be at peace, adrift with you like this. all the time. forever more, if you’d have him.

“love, don’t you mean?” the fire lord retorts after some silence lost to the roll of waves along the beach. answering your question with another question. his tone playful, voice lowered to a breathy whisper that coasts along the shell of your ear until you shudder wholly against him.

seeking warmth in him amidst the cooling tropical eve.

“shut up.” you say, not cruel. just careful and shy. you don’t pull away — even when the temperature drops to an icy evening chill and the moon breaks through the clouds to take the hand of the tide, luring it back to sleep and signifying the birth of night.

zuko shrouds you, crowds you into a hug — the type you give when you’re trying not to forget the way happiness feels. he refuses to let you slip through his fingers, not now, not ever again. “never,” he murmurs, like a quiet release of breath that runs along the coast of your hairline. “you’ve got me.” 

his final words fall like the precise stroke of a sword and land exactly where you need them. you can’t doubt him now, when they’re as good as a promise. zuko loves you and that is fact, written in scripture for generations to come and read and know like your love is to be treated as a piece of crucial history.

a boat will come in the morning to bring zuko back to the fire nation where he will resume his throne, bare the burdens and lace up his armour once more. except when he leaves, it won’t be dread that courses through his body and his soul — rather, it’ll be a sense of calm, the memories of your heart in his hand as he’s set adrift with you occupying his mind.

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vacancy and blankness become common themes in your mind whenever the avatar dares to be near. he leans down to your height, an easy going smile slanted onto his lips with the type of carelessness that comes with throwing caution into the wind too many times to count. “hm?” he’ll often say, as though the added height makes it harder to hear and aang is always so keen to listen, clinging onto your every word as though it’s ancient scripture. you’ve never had this problem before, not growing up glued to his side and watching him become the world’s hero — at least you think. 

perhaps your heart has always fluttered for him like petals in a breeze.

it’s just worse. now that you know each other intimately. 

aang takes up space.

the tent you’ve set up for the night feels cramped, fit for a bird who doesn’t dare fly free. what one might call a prison, another would call a dwelling for something precious. the width of his shoulders, down to the angular taper of his torso are somehow large enough to shield the bare bones of your body from any one who may happen to pass by. you feel sheltered underneath him, daunted by his mountainous shape that seems to cast a shadow over you — one where you can hide the quiver in your bottom lip, not from fear but from anticipation. a root in your lungs that intermingled with the bronchial trees that help you breathe. the root then florets and flutters, bringing a pleasant tingle south of where your mind grows misty as though a cool fog has broken over a calm body of water. 

it’s all because of how…thickset and strapping he’s become. 

your dainty fingers traverse the mountainous man like an explorer trying to reach the top, you feel the way the jus les in aang’s back ripple and interlock underneath his clothes that strain to keep him contained. he peers down at you with a kind of … alluring patience. the fact that he’s willing to wait, won’t use his strength against you, worsens the lurch of lust in your lower stomach and between your thighs which part to make room for his waistline. through the smog that clouds your sensibilities, you manage to take a peek at the avatar, let your gaze fall over the edge to admire the sights of his plush heaving chest and the sky blue arrowhead markings that he wears proudly on his sleeves — you can’t believe how beautiful he is. that he’s yours. that he puts his shoes next to your own when he steps into your home, that he’s got a favourite pillow on his side of the bed that you share, that he—!

“are you sure you want to do this?” his voice breaks through the clouds like a striking ray of sunshine ready to ghost its warmth over your skin. when you blink, aang is already looking, already analysing you the way one would read over their favourite passage in a book to make sure they hadn’t missed anything. he drinks in the details of your visage, the breathless part of your lips and the dilation to your sparkling eyes — there’s hunger within them, an appetite only aang has the ability to appease. he knows the answer to his question before he’s even asked it, unspoken as the words hang his perfect pearly white teeth. hooked there like they’re the keys to your heart.  

“aang,” your heart, that organ of yours — the one that keeps you alive and present and in the moment. it skips a beat, enough to make you notice but not enough to make you worry. it won’t beat out of your chest, you won’t die of a heartache if the way he looks at you doesn’t kill you first. something out of history, something timeless to be admired for generations to come. you wait for your heartbeat to settle under the nightly ambience outside of your tent, though you’re sure aang might have picked up on it already. “i said yes.” 

he leans away from you to shrug off a flurry of orange and yellow fabrics — revealing a battle scarred and well-carved body. there’s so many colours within aang, the sun, the sky at golden hour, the brilliant blue of the morning, the stormy grey whirling in his eyes. he could be a painting, a work of art they’d speak of for millennia to come… but he’s yours. taking up space in your mind as though he hasn’t a dime of rent to pay.

there were times where you’d hesitate to reach out and touch the avatar, to smooth over the sketching of his scars in the middle of his chest. now you’re sure, certain, pressing your fingers into it because it has to mean something. you have to affect him as much as he affects you. 

“aang.” you repeat all the letters of his name, seriousness stirred between them — blending like honey in milk.

an infallible, perhaps teetering on the edge of omniscient, beam breaks out on the smooth canvas of the avatar’s face. no longer youthful like you remember, but older, handsomely aged like a brew perfected over time. “if you’re positive.” he says, cheerful — so maybe a little childlike, tongue darting out to playfully nip your fingers that now cup his chin. wagging his clean shaven head from side to side.

so handsome, there’s barely enough room in your head to think anything else in the world could be this pretty.

you almost forget that you’re bare. naked as the day you were born. you shudder when aang’s bare hand presses firm against your sternum — warm because, of course, he’s the avatar who can bend the elements at his skilled will. it’s heated a touch, but still goosebumps rise on your skin in a tidal wave, and your nipples harden into whipped peaks. aang ignores them in search of something more, not that he doesn’t want to take his time with you. you’re just undeniable, you’ve been waiting all day for more than intimately placed touches and soft lips against your forehead. there’s more he intends to give to you. 

the avatar finds your slick entrance with the kind of practised ease only a man in love would possess. there’s no need for guidance when he can effortlessly find the points and spots that have you dulcetly drawling his name as though it’s one of your prized possessions. a best kept secret. a hidden treasure. two digits, thick and calloused, slide in with little to no resistance and curl almost instantly in search for your sweet spot — pressing down hard on the gooey nub nestled further along your walls. for the whole duration, aang waits for your silent please, consent for more, with baited breath. his lungs full of enough anticipatory air to give birth to a thunderstorm.

that’s all the sign he needs to navigate further south, follow the pulse of your blood flow to the aching buzz hardening in your clit. cheekily, the avatar tacks the pad of his thumb to the pleasure button, brushing it from side to side, round and round in tight circles — launching you into the stratosphere with what feels like a gust of blistering hot wind. meanwhile, his deft fingers between pudgy thighs get to work — the pace aang begins with reflects exactly who he is, unyielding and unpredictable. the intensity doesn’t build slow, it’s rapid akin to that of a dangerous river sectional. though his movements are not rushed, the flex of his wrist aids the two digits scissoring you open for the stretch that’s yet to come.

your entrance grows sappy and filthy around what manages to fit inside — filling you and dragging along your molten ichorous walls, so hot you’d put a fire bender to shame. the little squeaks  that escape you, airy and feather light layer messily over lewd squelching sounds echoing from between your shaky legs that tremble as though the earth has decided to split in two. grey eyes start to glimmer, mimicking the moonshine through nightly cloud cover, and a wry grin splinters on the avatar’s soft lips — a result of your precious cunt, making a spectacle around aang’s fingers. rippling and drooling down arrow shaped tattoos that twist around the length of his muscled arm and wrist. 

aang maps you out, travelling your gooey walls as though he’s trying to rediscover a place he once called home. familiar. welcoming. like discovering a new island, he pinions against pleasure spots lining your walls that you’d never be able to reach without him . although your tightness presents as resistance, the manner in which you paw at his wrist in a quiet plea for more and anything further to placate the twist in your gut, tells aang that you want this. need this. soaring high, aang flies you to new heights of ecstasy — sets your body adrift, floating above cloud nine.

he’s mesmerised, watching his favourite view, the squeeze of your cunt around him to prevent escape. each time his digits pump in and out of you, you cutely clench at the knuckle, as if to stop him from going too far. under the candle light, the avatar can’t help but flux into the giddy feeling like a slow drip of pale candle wax pooling at the base of its holder. simply knowing that he is the one making your pussy gush, translucent essence sliding down the length of your swollen slit and into the rustling fabrics below, licks his ego. stokes it like coals on a flame. 

“so wet here, so soft.” aang makes a sort of chuffing noise against your hairline, swooping down to level flat against the flooring of your tent. chest to chest, hearts beating in sync as though they’re drums following a similar tune. though aang’s voice dips low, the baritone register winding ropes within your lower stomach,  his intonation is cheery — bright like the sun at noon. “pretty baby, just look at you chasin’ it.” 

your hips twitch upwards at the avid taunting, called upon by his convincing siren’s song. you wonder if he’s bending your body in the same way he does with the four elements because you arch your back into the centre of him, magnetised by the lull of his heart beating for you. 

“someone’s impatient, easy baby.” neither mean nor gentle, aang divulges objective fact — sweat settling into the smile lines that bracket his subtle smirk. his teasing is as relentless as the press of his digits against the one special spot that clears your mind completely. he gives, gifting you another slab of arcadia until it stacks high to come tumbling down because aang has always been so, so kind. your quivering hole stretches wide over the broad stroke of his fingers, clear and sticky essence a glimmering glaze over them, wetter and wetter by the second beside you can’t stop bucking against their force. 

you point him in the right direction as he navigates your ecstasy, helping him erratically assault your pussy even though the avatar is more than capable of crumbling you like precious stone. but you burn everywhere, in your pelvis and your muscles pulled tight with the tension of holding back — flames burn at the oxygen nurturing your lungs and if aang weren’t the center star that boils to a billion degrees, the heat in your face would be enough to rival him. 

a dopey, delirious smile creates a habitat amongst your sweat-slicked features — carved against them like ancient scripture on stone only a man such as aang has the skill to decipher. “been waiting all day...” waiting for more than just hands under clothes. more than just yearning gazes swapped between the motions of your friends. “please, please, please. need you more…” the plea tastes like desperation against the tip of your tongue, the kind you only feel when your whole world is about to cave in, the sort that brings a tear to your eyes with the same sharp rapidness of a tidal boar. 

aang grounds you, soothes you, becomes the very force that brings you back to land out of fear the waters may wash you away. he takes up that space around your heart that knocks the beat down to a level that’s sustainable. with sweltering kisses marked against your hairline, chaste balmy from his own layer of perspiration, appearing almost like a second skin.  in response, a heatwave crashes through your body like a desert breeze — particles of unadulterated lust and hunger catching on the high points of your body. 

the back of the avatar’s head is clammy where you reach to it for leverage, crossing your arms at the back of his head. you bring the hardline of aang’s body against you, his stomach meeting yours with a wet slap because so much arousal has pooled there. his cock, leaky, hard and monstrous, rocks against soft flesh — jumping between you both like a glaring warning sign because he is just so big. 

“i don’t want to hurt you, might not be ready yet.” he says with the same restraint as a child being told to wait until after dinner for a sweet treat. aang is good, he regards you gently as though you’re something that might fracture with too much pressure — yet he knows what you can take, how much you can endure for the sake of losing yourself to him for a little while. just like his body on top of yours, aang’s large palm slots perfectly against your pussy — the seat of his palm grinding against your puffy clit alongside the rhythm of his thrusting fingers. nirvana begins to flash behind your eyes, blurting your vision as you blink up at him meekly. 

you like the burn. the stretch. the pain that comes with taking aang and he reads it in your darkening eyes, open like a book.

“it won’t hurt,” you argue back, though your words carry no weight. they taper into a cottony sigh, whisked away from the night’s breeze — icy against your temperate skin. sweat drops from his shoulders to your chest, glueing him to you. he’s a solid mass on top of you, contrary to the silky webbing of your mound, ruined beneath his fingers that work you unrelentingly. pleasure breaks through you like the sun rising above the horizon, highlighting the glow of your body as an orgasm nears. “please don’t make me wait, aang…”

aang chuckles, the weight of it carried by whirling winds and his fingers leave you for just a moment, an empty hole waiting to be filled – trembling without him. seamlessly, his delicate caress glides over your throbbing mound, growing cold and slick as time passes by. strings of clear, tarry elixir pruriently prevents his touch from straying too far from where you need him most. “you’re so pretty when you say please.” he exhales through his nose in a serene gust, spreading his fingers to watch your arousal web amidst them.

“aang–!”

“how about i make you cum?” he volunteers, and you despite the steamroll of fog starting to cloud your mind, you fail to miss the playful lilt that clings to his every word. it’s more of a statement than a suggestion, with aang riding the clouds between your thoughts, there’s no room to argue either. he acts first, on the same kind of brave impulse you’ve seen from him in battle many times before, delivering a few sappy love taps to your unattended sex. toying with you through a guise of a half-lidded smile that lures you into feeling safe.

he discerns your swollen clit from equally swollen folds once more, a muddlement of sin to be solved by one of the most powerful beings on earth, and draws his name across the hood of the sensitive little nub — drawing back the extra skin just to press your own slick into it. your back peels away from the tent’s flooring from where sweat had gathered to cleave the skin to it, trembling and twitching as you bow into aang, invade his space, crawl into it for sanctuary. though, in this safety net – you find yourself pincered, caught between his lips that descend upon yours and the lengthy, agile pointers that act with the alacrity of the sky’s breath. aang licks into your mouth briskier than your brain can keep up, stealing every soft breath and shackly snuffle that lays underneath your tongue. he tastes you like he’s losing a memory he wants to keep, tracking your flavour in your breezy breath before you have the sense to plead for more.

in due time, he’ll give it to you.

he’ll instimulate the careful crease between your brows and the petulant little pout that drags down the corners of your mouth even as you meet his with the same balance of the elements. harmonious and restorative all at once. he kisses you like it’ll heal him, the dulling phantom ache in his scars, the mass of loss in his past and the burdens of the future. you take it all to your lungs, inhale it into the space within your vital organs because pain like his should never be borne alone.

even still, the avatar hisses with a mix of awed ail when your nails break carmine crescent moons against the blue sails of his arrowhead tattoos. you grasp at his sinewy forearms for stability, something grounding like a plant taking root in new soils, and clench around dexterous digits that once more reclaim the claggy path of your ruined insides. whilst you howl like a storm’s winds and chase the seed of pleasure flourishing within your bubbling tummy – aang has a vision, like one of those who have walked the same path before him, casting imagery of hurricanes pulled from skies and storm clouds torn to little tufts in the name of you. 

because he loves you. 

your struggling, shuddering thighs and aerated gasps. the way you hold onto him like a lifeline as your orgasm brings you right to the edge of balance – the pendulum threatening to knock you off. aang’s fingers twist and brush amongst your sensitivity and it’s not long before all the pleasure that had been building crumbles under the tidal wave of arousal that crashes through you. “let go for me, baby,” he whispers earnestly against your cupid’s bow, hoping that it coaxes you along and unties the tightness lingering there. “there you go, good girl…” 

his words undo you like your binding holding you together never existed, weakened by time and attention. the care aang takes to bring you to heaven pushes you into release, one that has your juices splashing down the length of aang’s burly arms as though he’s squeezed a ripened fruit. all at once, you seize beneath him and gush into his palm seat, quaking through aftershocks where your cunt is the epicentre. he finds your mouth, fallen open in a whiney mewl, and wheedles you into a soothing wet kiss where tongue’s tangle and breathing draws ragged like the sharp edge of an earth-bended mountain.

once you’re calm, reduced to the gentle rock of a boat on the very water aang controls, your needy screams retreat too. everything melting  into soft pants and a dreamy gaze through your droopy eyelids. 

your appetite remains unruly, however.

“wan’ more.” you mumble in a quiet wisp – demanding, nearing playful. a challenge laying in the candle light like a trap for the avatar, plans barely concealed by the mirth swirling in your clearing, glassy eyes.

in their reflection, aang sees himself. body worn but spirit never tired of the games you play with one another. he heedily lowers you back to the flooring of the tent, arranges you neatly amongst fur pelts and blankets that soften like his leer on you.a picturesque view, skin shining like the surface of silk, thighs sticky with your body’s syrup, bare chest heaving like you’ve got oxygen to spare. you’re so beautiful it's easy to give into you. if there were any weakness the avatar were to possess, it would be you.

silence, bearable and conservant, is born between your bodies. it steals space, not unkindly, because you know aang’s quiet  gives way to his next actions, the plan he’ll take to bring you to bliss once more. his large palms, coarse from weathering the elements, span down your being again – through the valley of your breasts, down your sternum and into the soft fleshiness of your tummy.

“you’re sure?” he laughs, holding breath under his tongue. even as he questions you, aang shuffles onto his haunches to shred the last of his dignity – the fabric of his pants whirring across the tent.

your vision stoops low, following the arrows that point to the one thing you’ve been craving all evening. to say the avatar is … gifted… would be an under estimation – his shaft is ample in both size and weight, dripping from the dull tip and seedy slit, slightly curved with balls that are pink and plump. ripe with seed. you feel your stomach twitch underneath his touch and he does too – as though its preparing to take his size fully. grey eyes darken with a storm of lust once you find aang’s face again – merriment dawning on his features.

“you’ve asked me that a million times already,” you huff, cadence carrying petulance. “you don’t think i can handle you, avatar?’

he shakes his head. “i know what you can handle, i pay attention to your limits.” he says it like he knows something you don’t, a trick up his metaphorical sleeve to be unveiled the further this game advances. your move. it reads.

crawling over you once more, broad upper body blocking out the world and a slender waist shuffles between your thighs. aang is at your neck this time, gently nipping at your neck to leave his mark in the same manner that you’ve left one on his heart. saliva soothes the crease of his teeth indented into your skin, warm and distracting while the hands once at your stomach press into the lissome fat at your hips – manhandling you in the position he desires most. 

there’s no space between you know, not even a millimetre, ardent flesh bonding and soon to become one. the beat of your heart links like the next note of a song, nipples brushing sensitively as they harden under the night air. aang throws your legs over his wide-set shoulders, spreading you open and parting the webs of slick glueing together your swollen folds. a warm, gooey pressure burns against your entrance, his hips jutting forward to run his cock through the length of your slit – the sensation is not unwelcome, the slight sting of pain feels just like returning home after a long journey. where everything aches and nothing seems to settle.

his tip dully breaks through the translucent netting gathering at your entrance, gradually filling you inch by inch until you physically feel swole just from the tip. you flutter around him weakly, once for every throb of his girth against your nociceptive ridges.

only half of what he has makes it in, and even then, you experience the kind of fullness that comes with that of a full moon. hard to ignore, a sight to behold. you lift your lower half, circling your hips down to swallow what he offers, because too much is never enough and you have always been greedy when it comes to aang.

he’s a hero to the world, barely something you get to keep sacred and to yourself.

it’s hard to miss, impossible not to notice and aang bucks forward ever so slightly, rewarding you with more stretch, more burn, more of his cock. you suction around the rippling pang and clasp the back of his damp neck while your body accommodates for his size. “aang…m-more!’ your voice is raw, throat bobbing from the delighted tears you’ve been holding back and the avatar’s strong hands lift your lips higher, hoping it’ll alleviate the ache for more.

“baby, you’re being so greedy tonight, what’s with that?” the question slips into the sudden torrid atmosphere, though it’s amused – sitting behind a smile you can’t see ( it blurs as you sniffle ), aang groans. fractured, lust living between the cracks. “just take this much for now,” he doesn’t bottom out, only thrusts shallowly, letting the sweltersome head of his cock nudge your ribbed walls. “can’t give you all of my cock… have to be somewhere you can get help if it goes wrong,” 

that should be enough to destroy you.

aang fucks you half way down his length all whilst caging you in, his sweet mouse caught in a trap, pushing and pulling from your adorably selfish hole – beginning a sensual, swing to his own hips. you feel the wiry muscle of his thighs crook against your ass as the avatar practically puts you through the bedding. in your mind, aang makes up the middle of the universe, yet to him, your pleasure becomes the heart of his – he uses the strength bursting from his biceps to jerk you back and forth on what plugs you full. 

he is not rough, but focused, relishing in the juices you baste him in – smearing your juices along his hard stomach, where it pools against his tattoos and his belly button. the force he uses to roll into you lulls a symphony of whiney bleats from between your wet and kiss swollen lips, a sweet song that mingles with the soft slap of skin on skin filling your tent.

your body threatens to break once more, your arms like a loose neck tie around his thick throat and your shaky  hands finding purchase on his clean shaken head. all you can do is sink into him, let him overrule your body, taking it over— mind, body and soul. in return, he frees a hand to angles in your roots like the winds rushing through your hair, hugging you close so that you never fade away. even then he kisses you as though the world has taken you from him, too much all at once, overwhelming you with the curve of his tongue breaching realms beyond your pearly white teeth. aang tastes you, and tastes you, lips balmy  moving against yours with such vigor it nearly distracts you from the intensity of his thrusts.

where aang usually carries the scent of freshly cut grass and freedom – the fragrance twists into something more profane, the husk from your cunt and the sweat evaporating on your skin from how frequently it all meets. the atmosphere tingles with his devotion to you. 

your calves start to tingle where they violently shake on aang’s shoulders, every part of you spasms even down to your cunt that wraps around him like a vice. you feel ravaged, fractured, pathetically split open on his thickness even though it’s still only half. 

it doesn’t matter how you thrash and whine in a desperate effort to swallow another inch, aang remains sturdy above you. immovable. where the blankets and pelts begin to slip from the motion of your bodies working together, the avatar allows his mouth to cover you – silken spit drying against your breasts that bounce from passionate motion. he acts with the motion of a starved man who cannot go a second without another meal, tongue circling your areolas at a speed that matches the feverish punch of his weighty girth against your g-spot.

you cannot imagine a world without aang in it, without aang’s presence filling every corner like the sunrise in an empty room. kisses golden and glowing. the way he looks down at you like you’re worth a war and regards you with cool toned eyes that feel free of burden when you’re in view – draws you closer to a peak. there are so many feelings in aang’s eyes, slithering between your bodies, he fills you with more with each rut of his hips into yours, a creamy and lewd ring frothing around what doesn’t fit inside. 

“y-you’re so good,” you babble him earnestly, losing breath to his intensity, pussy pulsating over the prominent veins and ridges twirling around aang’s chubby girth. his thrusts pull and push at your spongy insides – bumping against pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had. “c-can you please just…give me more…?”

“you’re so needy, baby,” aang circles an arm around your waist and leans back on his haunches. his knees resting pelts whilst he manoeuvres himself  in a kneeling position. this time, he is able to bottom out fully, unexpectedly. he hits the hilt with a low, rumbling sound against the crown of your head – as if finally being sheathed inside of you has pulled him to pieces before you.“how’s this? d-deeper? fuller?”

in this new position, you’re sure you’ve crossed over to the spirit world. the new pressure is blinding, the assault on your g-spot is constant and mimics the ever-turning of the planet you live on. if you could, you’d cry out for the aid of a spirit but instead, through the lasciviousness lodged in your throat, his name is born like a prayer on your lips. “a-aang!”

“yeah, i know,” he mutters, overcome with emotion, eyes on you everywhere. the angelic contortions of your face, the drip of nectar from your hypersensitive cunt to his balls. everywhere.  “gods i know, you’re practically choking me out down there. that’s nice… so nice.”

your eyes become misty and aang’s voice becomes a murky strain, breaths of exertion coasting over your heated face as he strikes up an almost bullying, breezy pace to his slender hips as they pummel into your sex. now, he is able to hit deep — twist and turn your gummy organs up and drag over the sensitive ridges you can’t reach normally.

clawing at aang’s neck, you use the last of your vigour to grind against him. futile but sweet. your second release borders on pain since you’re spread over him, dull head of his cock near kissing the entrance to your womb. you asked for this, now you’re slumped and weak in his lap. a pathetic ragdoll that’s loved more than it’s toyed with. neither of you mind the fade in your endurance, after all the support and care you’ve given to aang through his hardest moments – he adores being able to return the favour like this. watch himself bulge in your tummy whilst your mind slips away from you. watch the faint part of your lips as you cry his praises and flit of your lashes whilst you attempt to hold his gaze.

“you like it better like this, i know.” aang coos, tone not too far off from wonder. lilt a little more than condescending. without disparaging his strength, he hauls you back and forth on his soiled shaft, a crude mix of precum and the sweet nectar your cunt drools helping him glide through your tightness.   “when i…. move you up and down up and down… there we go,” for the millionth time that night, he laughs. pure and bright, sparking your nerve endings. that’s when you gush, when the chord of tension snaps and you begin to violently convulse with your second orgasm.

he leans an arm past your back to steady himself with balls of air at his finger tips, other hand jumping up to span into the curve of your spine whilst you keen into him. wailing high like whistling winds. “you’re so cute when you’re cumming.” he purrs, boyishly devoted to your pleasure  just as you reach the summit on the mountain, your peak, squirting all the way down aang’s thickness. 

the world around you blurs as though water has mixed with wet paint used to capture darling memories,. a scream rips through you and burns at the fraying edges of your voice. clear streams of arousal shoot from your sluice sex and dampen the pelts, soak aang to the bone – nearly forcing his drowning dick out of you.

his rhythm barely wavers; not even when he is chasing both of your releases, running with the wind as his tip nudges against your pleasure spot over and over. moans rising in octave with every step he takes closer to orgasm.

for a moment, you think, your presence fills aang with as much light and life as he does with you. 

a thumb winds down to your clit with a brand new purpose, noting the aftershocks running through you that bring him his own sense of euphoria. he’s careful with you now, gently jerking you in his lap while his thoughts turn blank, mind crowded with thoughts of only you.  “so small… compared to me. it’s adorable, god, you really are —!” when aang cums, his forehead falls to yours, grey eyes brimming with a glowing blue that extends to the tattoos painted permanently into his body. he glows bright, a beacon of love in the night. then he hiccups, airy and low, succumbing to your shuddering warmth – ecstasy twisting through him like a tornado that’s grown over time. “perfect.”

opaque white shoots into you in viscous ropes, clinging to your wet walls – gathering in a frothy ring at your entrance. none of it is wasted, the avatar insistent on plugging you full. he finds sanctuary in the curve of your neck, breathy curses tattooed into your skin which tickle pleasantly. aang keeps you in his arms before exhaustion settles into your bones and his body threatens to cop out completely—  he just about manages to land on his side before his weight crushes you.

a pregnant silence takes up space in the tenant. tender as your weary eyes meet and heart rates slow to a standstill. aang’s face creases with adoring attachment, triumphant and adoring and childish. you don’t need words to know that he loves you, that he would give up anything to stay right here with you.

i love you.

it comes easy, reciprocating – you find his fingers in your heap of lips and brush a kiss against them so briskly one might mistake your light affection for a breeze.

i love you always.

aang takes up space, in your room next to your things. in your mind where all your best memories lie. and most importantly, in your heart.

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

it wasn’t the first time you and sylus tried to have sex, you’ve been at this for weeks and frustration seeped into your limbs with each poorly failed attempt. you knew sylus wanted nothing more than to claim every piece of flesh of your body, but every time he’d try to push his cock past your warm folds, the pain became unbearable and the idea of pleasure would fade away like dust into thin air.

sylus could sense your irritation—feel it simmering beneath your skin. therefore, he decided to take matters into his own hands. he made it his mission to prepare you properly, determined to ensure you could take him without any trouble. not that he hadn’t taken his time before—but now? now you were going to grow dizzy from the sheer amount of foreplay he intended to put you through.

an hour of foreplay had gone by—he’d taken his time with you. his fingers had worked you open, his mouth had eaten you out like he needed it to live, and he’d even slipped a vibrator inside you to ease you up more. he’d gone as far as using a special lube meant to make the stretch feel smoother, more satisfying.

you’d already come three times. your thighs were quivering and your seemingly unsatisfied insides spammed as though they craved more and more. numb limbs and blissed-out eyes. exactly the kind of state sylus enjoyed reducing you to.

finally, after what felt like forever, you felt his mushroom head pressing against your entrance, walls already clenching in anticipation.

sylus chuckled as his fingers traced lazy, soothing patterns along your leg, which was draped over your shoulder. “eager, aren’t we?” he tapped his tip against your clit twice as he spoke. “don’t think i love your excitement, kitten, but you need to relax just a little more.”

you obeyed, loosening your insides as requested. you exhaled sharply before mewling. “sy, please just put it in. you’ve prepped me enough.”

his knuckles brushed against the fat of your cheeks, his touch carrying more than mere affection. “there’s no need to beg, yes? i’ll give you what you want, you know it, sweetie.” he pressed a cute peck against your swollen lips. “you just need to be more patient.”

you huffed, a mix of frustration and anxiousness mingling in your breath. “ugh, sylus! i’ve been waiting and cumming like crazy for an hour already and you haven’t even fucked me yet!“

sylus didn’t meet your eye while you were rambling on; his attention was fixated on your fluttering walls and his reddened girth. though you continued spluttering words. “c’mon just fuck me and quit messing aroun—angh!”

his tip eased into you, his crimson irises drawn in the way his cock disappeared inside you as he pushed more and more. he huffed before his famous smirk curved his lips. “you’re in such a rush. thought you liked it when i took my time.”

your breath grew more elaborated, chest rising and falling as you stuttered intelligible words. with furrowed brows and shaky thighs, you tried to keep as relaxed as you could whilst sylus’ girth made its way up your hole. slowly, torturing you.

your vocabulary was replaced by sweet, high-pitched whines. your eyes drifted to where your bodies met before you murmured lowly. “i-is it all in yet?”

“i’m not even half way in, my love.” his low baritone rumbled in your ear whilst he provided soothing, lingering traces of love along your outer thighs. “are you alright? does it hurt?”

you tried to make your words sound clear through your fuzzy, hazy mind. “‘m fine just—ngh, take it s-slow, please.”

“of course, sweetie.”

sylus’ big cock penetrated your insides little by little, burying himself deeper and deeper with each passing second. still, he took it slow just as you had asked. sylus was aware of his girthy length and wanted nothing but to bring you satisfaction, pleasure—and if that meant not rushing things, then that was what he was going to do.

the unrushed pace of the whole affair allowed sylus to savor everything: the way your walls constricted around him, having trouble taking him whole; the way your eyes welled up and rolled to the back of your skull with each inch he pushed in—the mix of pain and pleasure was arousing for him.

after what felt like the longest—both for you and him—, sylus bottomed out, his hips meeting your asscheeks, heavy balls colliding with your rim. he heaved out a lustful grunt as he felt the entirety of his dick being squeezed by your warmth. he had craved this closeness to you for far too long and the fact that it was now you and him united as one body, one soul, drove him mad.

but to be honest, what drove him madder was the sight of his cockhead poking out your belly.

“syyy—mghh! please move, feel like i’m burning inside.”

the aforementioned man smirked, the low vibration of a chuckle sending chills through your body. “as you wish, kitten.”

sylus rammed himself into your enveloping heat, with each thrust your breasts bounced in a hypnotizing motion—one that he could not resist as he directed his mouth toward your perked nipples, alternating between licking and teasing with his fingers.

every single one of his ministrations reduced your brain to mush and your body to a panting, whiny mess.

you begged with half-lidded eyes. “f-fuck sy, ‘s too much—gah!”

sylus faintly grazed your g-spot and your walls fluttered around him, your mouth fell agape as a string of moans echoed through the room.

sylus smiled to himself. “that’s the spot, isn’t it?”

you nodded incessantly, completely lost in the hot, sinful aura that wrapped your bodies. “yesyesyes! keep fucking me, please!“

as much as sylus loved seeing this destroyed-by-pleasure state of yours, he could not help but be a dick about it. “mhm, suddenly i’m feeling a little tired, kitten.”

he uttered before slowing down the pace. though you could feel every inch of him sliding in and out of you, it wasn’t what you needed at the moment.

what you needed was for him to ruthlessly slam his big cock against that sweet spot over and over again.

your ankles, which were draped over his shoulders, locked around his neck, pushing him down forcefully—your forehead almost colliding with his. “i told you to keep fucking me.”

his rich laugh fanned over your face, amusement written all over his. “i am fucking you, kitten. i don’t know what you’re talking about, you’ll have to be more-“

you cut out his insufferable asshole act as you purposefully clenched around his tip, the only part of his dick that was still inside of you, earning a deep and velvety grunt from the man.

“sylus. qin.”

you deadpanned with a clearly unamused expression on your face, belying your rosy, tear-streaked cheeks. and god, wasn’t sylus turned on by your stunt?

his right eye glinted dangerously, bright redness shining in the dark room. he slid a hand down your leg, gently parting your ankles as he placed a wet, lingering kiss on your skin, holding your gaze the entire time, a devilish fire hiding behind those rubies.

“yes, ma’am.”

☰ masterlist !

A part of you wanted to question how your friend even found this to begin with, but a bigger concern was how the fuck didn’t you know that your long-term friend with benefits was secretly a porn star. Actually, it clearly wasn’t much of a secret; the shit had millions of views. When you clicked on the account that posted the video, you quickly saw an entire portfolio of work. The tags on some of them were sick, really—master and slave, slapping, sadism, even fucking watersports. Just as you were about to let your curiosity consume you to open another video, you heard the sound of a key jingling in your front door. You didn’t even have time to turn your phone off; you just threw it to the other side of the couch.

“Ohhh, you’re gonna wanna fuck me so bad when you see what I’ve got behind my back.” The familiar voice rang out across the room, the same tattooed fingers revealing a brown paper bag with grease spots staining the bottom as Rafayel stepped through the door.

“Stopped by your favorite food truck. No need to pay me back or anything— I think I’d rather take my reimbursement in the form of head.” He laughed at his own words, as if it were a joke. You tried to get the image out of your head, but it seemed nearly impossible as he walked closer to your seat on the couch, placing the bag on the coffee table between you.

“You good? You look like you’re gonna be sick.” He wasn’t wrong. He could see the little beads of sweat forming on your neck, your eyes wide as if you’d seen a ghost. You cleared your throat, desperately trying to redirect your thoughts.

“Didn’t I tell you that key was for emergencies, Rafayel?” He hummed in agreement.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his phone, and unlocked it. “When someone texts you, ‘I need to see you so bad. I’m so pent up I’m dying, literally.’ It kinda seems like an urgent situation.” You turned your head, opting to grab the food instead of making eye contact with him. He sucked his teeth at your lack of rebuttal.

“Okay, damn, I’m sorry. Did I scare you? Is that what’s got you so tense? In my defense, I did say I was on the way. Next time, though, I’ll knock, yeah?” You nodded absentmindedly. Sensing the unusual tension in the room, he stepped around the coffee table, sitting down on the couch beside you. He placed a tattooed hand on your bare thigh.

“Seriously, tell me what’s up. It obviously isn’t just about the key.” His other hand reached across you, grabbing the sides of your face to turn your gaze onto his completely.

“Look—I get that lately we’ve only seen each other to hookup. But don’t forget about the friends part of friends with benefits, yeah? If you wanna talk, I’ve got time. You can tell me anything,” he said, voice completely softened now. Just as you were about to reply, your lips inching to form a sentence, you heard it. Those same lewd sounds from earlier, only this time they were slightly muffled. There was no fucking way.

Rafayel’s face contorted, and he shuffled around in his seat to see where the noise was coming from. He’d started to reach for his phone, but then he saw an illuminated screen tightly tucked between the cushions. You reached for it at the same time, desperately trying to dig for your phone to silence those fucking sounds, but it was no use. Before you could even try to wrestle it out of his hands, he saw it. There he was on your phone screen, the tip of his cock inching towards the back of some girl’s throat. All you could do was cover your face in horror.

“No fucking way!” He was dying laughing, the filthy sound of someone gagging on his cock filling the space.

“You’re watching porn of me? How’d you even find this? I thought you said you didn’t like that kinda stuff?” he asked between gasps of laughter.

“I don’t.” You reached back for your phone, snatching it away this time as he was too busy cackling at you to fight back. You clicked the power button this time, the filthy sounds now dissipating.

“Clearly you do, or at least you do if I’m in it.” He was so fucking smug about it, too, amused at your humiliation as he reached out for the bag of food, fishing out a taco for himself.

“I wasn’t fucking watching it. Someone sent it to me.”

“That’s actually weirder. What the fuck were they even doing to find that? It’s not like it’s Twitter porn, you’ve gotta dig to find that kinda shit,” he retorted before taking a bite.

“I don’t feel like you’re in any position to talk about what’s weird when you’re recording yourself fucking whoever. Some of those videos are disgusting.” He shrugged it off.

“No shame in my game. Fucking is an art, and I am an artist. Forgive me for sharing my talent with the world.” He could barely get the line out before laughing again, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

“Well, how come you never told me you were into that kinda stuff? Huh, what happened to ‘friends can tell each other anything’ or whatever the fuck?” you asked, halfway offended.

“Uhhh, because you act so vanilla,” he said with no hesitation. Well, now you were fully offended.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You reached out to smack his shoulder, which he barely felt through the layer of muscle.

“I didn’t say you were vanilla. I said you act vanilla. It’s not a bad thing. You like what you like, and I like what I like. Doesn’t bother me, but it’s the truth.” He said it like he was simply stating that the sky was blue, so fucking matter-of-factly.

“Why would you even say that, though? What about me is so vanilla?” He could tell you weren’t gonna let this go anytime soon, so he shoved the rest of the taco in his mouth, taking far too long to chew and swallow for your liking before he replied.

“Okay, first, you never make any noise.” Your eyebrows furrowed at the comment.

“That’s not true!”

“It most certainly is. It’s like sometimes I can hear you about to moan, but then you cover your mouth or bite your lip or something to stop it. Uhhh, let’s see, what else? Oh yeah, you never let me go down on you.”

“Letting you eat me out wouldn’t be freaky if that’s what you’re implying.” He noticed how you conveniently didn’t respond to the former accusation about being too quiet.

“Exactly my point! If you won’t even let me eat you out, which is like basic shit, then of course I wouldn’t try to do anything else. I damn sure wouldn’t ask you to film.” You fell silent at the annoyingly logical point, but then something even more troubling fell over you.

“Be honest...Am I not hot enough to fuck on camera?” Rafayel tried his best to stifle another fit of laughter, now aware that you were actually being serious.

“That’s not it at all. You are so—so fucking sexy. Of course, I think people would want to see you naked—hell, I want to see you naked. In fact, I wish you were naked right now instead of wasting time with this ridiculous conversation.” You rolled your eyes, now more irritated than anything else by his evasive answers. You weren’t sure why it bothered you that he never offered. Maybe it was the fact that he had hundreds of videos posted, and each one seemed to have a different girl—he had no problem asking every single one of them, so why not you? You were about to get up from the couch, suddenly needing some space from the man, but he reached out for your wrist, guiding you back down to your seat.

“Okay, okay, wait. Look at me for a second, yeah?” You did so, reluctantly.

“You are one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen, really, and we have good sex. I mean it, really, I always have a good time with you,” he said, as if it were no big deal.

“Good? It’s just good to you?”

“I mean, yeah. I cum. You cum. What’s not to like?"

"The problem is, though—” He took a second, wondering whether brutal honesty would hurt or help in this situation. In the end, he decided to continue anyway. “I never asked you to film because you perform too much. It’s inauthentic.” For a second, you thought he was going to say something genuine or romantic, like that he thought you were too good to do something like that. Instead, though, it seemed like this was a worse insult than before. Before you could object, he spoke again.

“What I mean by that is— okay, I make a lot of money off of those videos, y’know. Like some of the most popular ones have been worth almost a grand.” Okay, so what you heard was that you wouldn’t make him enough money because you’re not that good at fucking.

“Let me finish—” he pleaded, anticipating an interruption. “You know what most of those videos have in common?”

“Every woman in them has clearly had a boob job.” He smiled at your remark.

“Not every, but sure. What I was going to say is that those videos are all super degrading. I’m saying mean shit and being rough. Begging on camera for someone to spank you or choke you or whatever the fuck—that’s not something someone can half-ass, and in a way, it only works if you’re willing to be real. You’re always so caught up in trying to perform, super concerned about what other people are gonna think.” You didn’t even allow his monologue any time to sit in the air.

“That is not true!”

“No? Okay, then tell me why you don’t moan when we fuck, huh?” There was a hint of a challenge in his eyes, a provocation to see if you would tell the truth.

“Maybe it’s because you’re just not that good at fucking. Did you ever consider that?” He hummed in acknowledgment.

“We both know that’s not it. You’re performing. You think that if you get too loud or if you let me go down on you, that I’ll see you differently. You’re scared of looking like a slut, even though it’s obvious that you are one.” You gasped at the allegation.

“Oh, and don’t say you’re not because if you weren’t, you wouldn’t have slipped up that one night and called me daddy when we were drunk, or I wouldn’t have been able to hear you fucking yourself in bed every night through the walls when we were roommates. Actually, if you weren’t a slut, you wouldn’t be so hung up on the fact that I didn’t try to recruit you to make a porn video.” You were actually speechless now. His delivery implied that this wasn’t an impromptu speech.

“Better yet—” He reached down to grab one of your ankles, pulling you closer to him before wrapping your leg around his waist. You were basically in his lap now, and you could feel his length painfully hard beneath you. “Let me show you why you couldn’t get fucked on camera.” He wasted no time slipping his hand between your bodies, reaching beneath the hem of your t-shirt to find the waistband of your panties. You hadn’t bothered with pants due to the previously scheduled booty call, which was quickly taking a turn for the worse.

“Well, see. Look at that—you’re certainly wet like a slut.” He had no trouble finding your clit beneath the fabric, his middle finger rolling over the button unbearably slowly. You lied earlier; he actually was that good at fucking. He noticed the way your eyes had started to flutter closed with each little movement of his finger against you.

“Does that feel good, hm?” he whispered, leaning into you, your chests pressed against one another as his lips brushed the shell of your ear. You stayed quiet, focusing on calming your breathing and holding the moan that had been building up in the back of your throat from escaping. Rafayel had always been a bit theatrical in bed, clearly loving the sound of his own voice. He was never shy about moaning or telling you what he wanted. This was different, though; now, he was going to make you participate.

“Speak up, or I’ll stop.” His words seemed like a command, but the way he pressed a soft kiss onto your neck gave a different impression.

“You’re not serious,” you said, and not even a full second later, he slid his hand from underneath your panties, the absence of his finger’s warmth quickly showing that he was indeed serious.

“Rafayel—“

“Nu-uh, you said you could fuck on camera, right? Well, this is your audition, angel, and if I’m honest, you’re failing miserably.” He readjusted your hips on his lap, pushing you off of him in the process.

“I’m not asking you to act. If it doesn’t feel good, say that, but if it does, then you have to show me because right now, I’m not convinced. I'm not gonna touch someone who’s not enjoying it,” he said it so nonchalantly, like it was basic math before shrugging it off and turning to reach for the food again.

“It did.” He raised an eyebrow at your commentary, intrigued, but still not satisfied.

“It did—what? What is it and what did it do, exactly?” he questioned, a devious grin slowly growing on his face.

“You—your fingers did feel good.” He hummed in approval.

“Ahh, see? Now I’m following. So do you want me to keep touching you then?” You nodded, eyes growing wide at the offer.

“No, no no—you were just starting to do good for me, don’t get shy now,” he said, voice sickly sweet as he turned back toward you, his body leaning closer and closer to yours, forcing you to lie on your back, your legs wrapped around him once again.

“I’ll help you out, yeah?” he whispered, his large hands rubbing up and down the smooth skin of your thighs, getting so close to where you wanted him before dancing away again.

“When I’m filming with someone new, and they get a little camera shy, sometimes it helps if I feed them lines. It keeps them from worrying about saying the right thing—loosens them up a little. Let’s try that, hm?” You nodded, once again, at a loss for words as his hand, still wet from your juices, pressed flat against your pussy, rubbing you through the fabric of your panties.

“You’re so wet, baby. I can feel you getting your panties all messy. You want me to keep touching you like this?” His fingers danced between your slit at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Yes.” It was soft, a shameful confession whispered into his ear, but he’d heard you, and that was a victory he was happy to accept.

“Yeah? I can tell it feels good. You’re getting my hand all sloppy, pretty girl.” His lips hovered against the skin of your neck, his warm breath making your eyes flutter into the back of your head as he tried not to chuckle at how cute you looked when you were frustrated.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered. “No one else is here. It’s just me…tell me what you need, baby.” He could feel the way you tensed up at the request, pressure building in your chest as all of the dirty words you wanted to say got stuck in your throat.

“I’ll help you again, okay?” You could barely even focus on the lesson as his thumb slowly circled your clit, his lips pressing a kiss onto your skin between words.

“Repeat after me—say, please put your finger inside of me.” It was so straightforward, no flowery wording or beating around the bush. He’d told you to say exactly what you wanted, leaving no room for interpretation. You almost couldn’t focus on how humiliating the request was because the heat building between your thighs was becoming unbearable.

The feeling of Rafayel slowing his fingers down slightly served as a warning—he was not afraid to stop touching you again. You had no choice but to repeat the script, every word, verbatim. You could feel him smile against you in success.

“Aw, you did such a good job. Of course, I can do that for you, angel. Relax for me, yeah?” As he felt your heartbeat even out against his chest, he slowly slid the tip of his middle finger past your entrance.

You waited a beat, expecting to feel him reach deeper inside, but he didn’t move, leaving you clenching around the tip of his finger. He could feel you shifting around beneath him.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He was playing so fucking coy. You were so frustrated that a little whine left your mouth just before you could bite your bottom lip to silence yourself.

“Ooh, that was a pretty sound. I must’ve spoiled you too much, hm? Otherwise, I would’ve gotten to hear the cute little noises you make when you don’t get your way. Is that it? Have I been too nice to you?” Only more noises left your lips as you tried to push yourself further onto his finger.

“So fucking greedy,” he said, taunting you, as his free hand moved to pin your hips down against the couch cushions, forcing you to whine again, tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

“You gonna whine some more, or you wanna tell me what’s wrong? Can you use your big girl words for me?” He never moved to look you in your eyes, knowing that the eye contact would only make you crawl back into your shell again, but you knew that he was doing everything in his power not to use his hand to force your gaze onto his.

“Just…tell me what to say, Rafayel.” You were indeed whining some more, but at least you’d said something.

“Hmm, I want to hear you say please again. I liked it earlier.” You didn’t even bother to quip back, realizing that this was all about stroking his ego.

“Please, tell me what to say, Rafayel.” He knew you’d rolled your eyes, but he let it slide.

“I think I wanna hear you beg. Say please, play with my pussy. Ask me to make you cum, nicely.” At this point, you were so frustrated that you just agreed to whatever he asked, each word falling from your lips, much to his enjoyment.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? You’re making me so proud, angel. You want a treat?” he said. He’d always praise you in bed, loving the way it made you tighten up around him, and this time was no exception.

“Yes, please.” As the words fell from your lips, he forced the remaining length of his finger inside of you, effortlessly brushing the tip of his finger against your G-spot. His thumb found your clit again, slowly teasing it as his finger slid in and out.

“My good girl, using her manners. I loved the way that sounded, so desperate. Doesn’t it feel so much better to get what you want when you had to work for it?” Just as you opened your mouth to deliver a slick remark, he slid a second finger inside, forcing a loud moan from your chest. You rushed to slap your hand across your mouth, as if you were trying to stuff the noise back inside, but it was too late.

For the first time, he’d moved his head, his face only inches away from yours, a look in his eyes that you’d never seen before, pupils darkening his irises, like a vampire that hadn’t fed in weeks. He’d released your hips from his grip, opting to grab your wrist instead, gently freeing your lips.

“It’s okay if it feels good, you know? No one can hear you but me, and I like hearing you. Don’t you trust me?” He allowed you to just nod this time, not trying to ruin the moment by forcing you to a script when he finally had you right where he wanted you—out of control.

“Don’t hold back anymore, okay? You're allowed to feel good. I want you to feel good. I won’t think differently of you. You’re still so smart and sweet and funny—those parts of you are still there when we’re like this. I like every part of you, so just be you with me.”  You nodded in agreement, eyes watering again from the intimate moment, as you felt his hand loosen on your face just a little, before his fingers started playing with you again.

“You can close your eyes if you want. Just think about how it feels, okay, baby?” You did, which heightened every act of stimulation as he moved his lips back to that spot that made you shiver beneath him. He knew it wouldn’t take much more for you to cum, but he was tempted to edge you a bit, desperate to see you like this just a little longer. He was so eager to hear that noise again, he swore it was the prettiest sound he’d ever heard—the song of an angel. You could tell by the way he wasted no time curling his fingers again, pressing against that spot rhythmically in time with his thumb on your clit. You were trying to ignore that filthy sound that flooded your ears each time he pushed his fingers in your cunt. You physically couldn’t hold your moans back any longer if you tried, and Rafayel could not have been more in awe of you in that moment.

“You’re dripping down my fucking wrist, angel. Am I making you feel that good, hm?” All you could say was yes over and over again, each one more broken and pleading than the last.

“Yeah? You look so fucking pretty for me, sound so fucking good. I need you to cum for me—want to hear it so fucking bad.” All you could do was whine as he quickened his pace again while he felt you tighten up around him, the familiar sensation telling him that you were unbearably close.

“Fuck—I think I’m gonna—” The word kept getting stuck in your throat, the sound of him breathing so heavily in your ear was fogging up your brain.

“Aw, what is it, baby? You’re gonna what, hm? Tell me what’s gonna happen if I keep pressing against this spot right here?” he mocked. You were actually crying now, the stimulation close to making you cum harder than you ever had before.

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, angel? You think you can be good and do one last thing for me?” You were nodding so quickly, like an excited puppy, mouth open, desperately trying to catch your breath. His grip on your cheeks tightened once again.

“Look at me, please.” You hesitated, just for a second, but it didn’t last long, the need to cum outweighing any shame at this point.

“No script—you wanna cum? Beg me.” So, you begged, a series of pleas and moans leaving your lips. He tried his best not to change his expression, scared that any reaction might make you self-conscious. All he did was press light kisses against your cheeks. He could taste the salt from your tears as you whined against him.

“It’s okay, baby. You can cum for me. You earned it, pretty girl, cum for me, please. All over my hand—that’s it. Yeah? Oh my god—fuck, yes. Good job, angel, sound so fucking sexy like this.” Your thighs were clamping down around his wrist, forcing him still as you shook and writhed against him. He closed his eyes while he listened to you moan and beg, for what, you weren't exactly sure, but he was addicted to the sound.

“Damn you really were pent up, huh? I’m so proud of you, baby. Cumming so good on my fingers, making all those pretty noises for me. Just like thattt—fuck, keep cumming. Let it all out for me.” Ever so slightly, he kept rubbing his thumb on your clit. It was as if he were in some sort of trance, studying the way your breath would catch in your throat and how you whined like such a little crybaby. It was so overstimulating that your moans had turned into screams before you begged him to stop.

“Sorry, I just—got carried away, I guess. You were just so…” he hesitated.

“Loud?” you asked, still out of breath and doing your best not to cover your face, embarrassment heating your cheeks as the nasty sounds you had made rang in your ears.

“No, no—so beautiful. It was like getting to look at a masterpiece. That was art.”

“Yeah? Good enough to record?”

You gulped, and your foot impatiently tapped the wooden floorboards and it immediately stopped once you heard his footsteps. Your gaze was fixated on the corner of the table— you didn't want to look up.

You wanted to ignore him, wanted to ignore that bile feeling in your stomach that made you nauseous. His boots stomped across the room, getting closer to you and your fingers intensified the scratching.

Jungkook dipped his head towards your neck, his warm breath gently brushing over your skin, as it sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were tangled in the locks of your hair, and he pulled it gently. He kissed the side of your neck and rested his chin on your head.

"Food's cold."

Your eyes darted to the plate of food he had given you not long ago, and you hadn't touched it since he left for some errands. Normally you would eat the meals he made for you but your mind was eating you up, the constant thought of him possibly knowing you tried to escape last night.

But how would he know? Even if you had slipped a pill into his meal, which knocked him out for about thirty minutes, how would you escape? When you opened the front door the chilly air that hit you caused you to blink several times.

You were free. You finally get to leave.

But as you took the first step outside, your eyes scanned the tall trees that decorated the entire area. Your heart sank. You couldn't get out of this place because you don't know how to.

Where would you go even if you had run deep into the woods? Would you even find a road? A path that could lead you to a sane person? You tried to reason with yourself as you looked back inside. This was your chance to get away from a monster like him, you could report him to the police and go back to your family and friends...

But what if he found you? What if you were lost, and by the time he woke up and figured out you were gone, what would he do? He'd go berserk, and he will find you. You don't know why but you're certain of it. You don't know the woods very well unlike him.

Jungkook knows his way around this deserted place, he's lived in this small cabin for years now, and he held you captive for months now. Of course, he would know, he prepared it just for you. What if you died while trying to escape? What if—

You closed the door as your back rested against it. You were so pathetic, so hopeless.

You stood up and walked up the creaky stairs, entering the bedroom where Jungkook was sleeping on. The effect of the pill even had such good timing that it hit him when he was getting ready for bed with you anyway.

Yet, you wasted it.

A scream was lodged in your throat, and your lips trembled. You hated to cry, but you couldn't help it. The warm tears trailed down your face as you crawled onto the bed.

Kill him.

Your own mind spoke to you, and your breaths shook as you heard your next words.

Go on. Wrap your hands around his neck, and kill him.

Decorate him like a bow on a present, and kiss his lips until you can't breathe anymore.

Your eyes widened when your hands were on his neck. They squeezed the fragile base, and you could feel his pulse. Slow and rhythmic, and it matched the quiet breaths he let out.

You inspected his face, and his hair fell on the top of his eyebrows, his eyelids were shut and his lips were parted open.

He was demented, a cruel person. You won't ever forget the things he did to you, how you felt so humiliated because of him. He took you away from your loved ones just so he could selfishly keep you and show his immense love curated just for you.

But you still couldn't do it.

You pulled your hands away quickly and Jungkook's fingers twitched. There wasn't much time left till he woke up. If you killed him, you would have won and lost at the same time.

You had no idea where you were, and there was no cell reception for you to call anyone. How would you prepare food, and fend for yourself? You don't even know a pathway that could help you to leave this damn forest. What would you do without him? But at least he would be gone.

You sighed and wiped your tears away, and you curled up next to him. You don't know why but your hands automatically reached out to play with his hair until you fell asleep. You don't know why but there was a part of you that didn't want to leave him.

You snapped back into reality once you felt Jungkook slither his arms down your shoulders as he murmured softly.

"Come to the bedroom with me, baby."

You didn't hesitate to follow behind him, and even if you didn't want to come he'd force you to anyway. Jungkook shut the door once you stepped inside the bedroom, and he took off his leather jacket before he put it back on again.

He sat on the edge of the bed and checked out the dress you wore for him. A white mini dress adorned with white laced straps, and the soft, flimsy part stopped on your thighs midway. The embodiment of the outfit hugged your structure beautifully like a doll, and Jungkook couldn't control his growing desire for you.

He patted his lap, and his words came out in a command.

"Sit."

You took a step forward, and Jungkook grabbed your waist, making you sit down on his lap. One arm was wrapped around your waist tightly, and his other hand gripped your chin. Your faces were inches away from each other as Jungkook stared at you intently.

"You wanna tell me something, beautiful?"

Dear god no..

You shook your head at him, watching his lips form into a frown.

"Don't lie to me sweetheart, you know I don't like lying."

His tone had turned serious, and your stomach churned uncomfortably. Jungkook shuffled his arm to get something from his pocket, and he retrieved the item, showing it to you.

"What were these doing under the bed, baby?"

He shook the container filled with sleeping pills, (blue and white) and your fingers dug into his shoulders firmly. Your eyes were filled with terror, and panic flooded in your veins.

Jungkook chuckled at your reaction, and he brought your chin closer to his face. You were forced to stare at him, to look into the eyes that frightened you almost every day, no matter how loving he tried to be.

They were crazed...a look you never wanted to see. His tongue peeked out from his lips, and it traced the silver piercing that was on the flesh of his lips.

"You really think you knocked me out last night?"

Your heart banged against your ribcage, and your breathing increased. He can't know, he can't, he can't, he can't-

"Did you think I wouldn't notice the little act of you wanting to cook for me all of a sudden? Huh?"

Jungkook squeezed your cheeks harshly, and his lips moved against your cheek.

"I wanted to play along. Give you that feeling of being triumphant over something ridiculous. You really are a fool, aren't you?"

Your eyes darted away from his, and your hands were off his shoulders. You yelped softly when you felt him push you even further into him, your chests touching each other as he made sure he held you more securely.

His hand flew to your neck, and he grabbed it roughly, and his nails dug into your skin.

"Eyes on me when I'm fucking talking to you. And don't even think about fighting back." Jungkook's eyes narrowed and darkened as he spoke right against your quivering lips.

Your heart was beating rapidly, and you felt suffocated as if the smoke from a wildfire was in the room. He found out...Jungkook found out.

"When you tried to choke me- honestly...I was surprised. But I knew you didn't have it in you. You wanna know why? It's because you're a fucking pussy, baby. You don't have the guts to kill someone."

A laugh vibrated wholeheartedly from his chest and you felt his cold hand drawing circles on your thigh. He put his lips towards your neck, taking a long inhale before he spoke again.

"You were such a good girl a couple of days ago, what happened to that good little girl who listened to me? Hm?"

You wanted to get out of his grip so bad. Your palms, slick with fear adhered to his shirt like trembling moths ensnared in the silky strands of a spider's web. Your delicate touch betrayed the intensity of your uneasiness with each shuddering breath you took.

Jungkook pulled away from you, a sudden thought coming to his mind. He stops drawing circles on your thighs, and he tilts his head slightly.

"I'm going to give you a chance to run away, okay?"

No.

"Gonna count till...thirty, and you're going to run into those woods as fast as you can."

Stop.

"If I find you..." his hands slide up on the side of your body, arms encircling around your back, "I'm gonna shove these down your pretty little throat, got it?"

Jungkook motioned to the sleeping pill container, sending a wave of goosebumps flying over you, and the hairs on your neck stood as you took a solid gulp. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours before he pulled away. His arms loosened around your back, brushing your hair away from your face. He lowered his forehead against yours, murmuring softly.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

For a moment, you were in a daze, lost in his eyes, captured in them. You didn't want to leave since he was probably messing around with you. You couldn't help but continue to stare at his doe eyes as your reflection glowed inside those dark eyes.

How were you so lost in them? Lost in the eyes of a man who kidnapped you, claiming he loved you. You were lost in your life, alone with no proper companion. Your life was already ruined, and you ached to be loved by someone. That's why he took you because he had a reason, and you didn't have a reason to deny it. You needed someone, and Jungkook claimed that he was the one.

He's observed you before, and you caught his eyes like a hawk once you bumped into him on your way to work. That's why he was able to snatch you on a cold Winter night, and he caught you, his prey, so easily. Why? You were lost, just lost in reality, lost in your depressive thoughts, and lost in love. You were just a poor girl lost in her delusions and wondering if your life would have been different if you had chosen the right decisions. You didn't notice him walking behind you, advancing on you before you could even utter a single scream.

It was an impulse and before you knew it your lips attached to Jungkook's moving ones. You grabbed onto his shirt, kissing him with soft movements.

Kissing him till you couldn't breathe anymore.

His hand was tangled in your hair and he pulled you closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. It was like Jungkook got the message, you wanted some hope, false hope to be exact. His tongue prodded at your lips before it slipped inside, and your body was growing hot as you both made out.

You almost let out a whine when he sucked and nipped on your bottom lip before he pulled away. You watched the way his chest rose and fell before a breathy laugh escaped his lips. His eyes scanned your face, and Jungkook grinned. He brought his hand to your face, wiping fresh tears off your face.

You were crying? Of course, just lost again but lost with him in an intimate moment.

He cupped your face, and his head beckoned to the door.

"Still haven't finished yet, baby, I'm close to twenty, you sure you don't wanna run now?"

You let out a quiet sniffle, getting off of him and once you left the room you sprinted down the stairs. You didn't bother to put your shoes on as you ran into the woods, your white socks already muddied. You ran and ran, and this time you noticed yourself crying. Why has your life turned into this? Why did you kiss him?

Your body shook with each step you took and each shuddering breath made you want to give up. It was completely dark, and the tall trees engulfed the entire area. There was barely any light, how were you even going to get away from him? The wind blew harshly over your face as you slowed down, stopping at a trail that seemed endless.

You wanted to laugh, but why did you even attempt to escape yesterday? Why did you even think about escaping in the first place? You know what happens, Jungkook has taught you several times but you just don't stop. Your life was shitty, your family disowned you because you were a disappointment to them. Your friends were toxic and fake, and you were alone. And you hated that.

Is that why you kissed him?

You kissed him because he was the only person who knew what your life was like, you kissed him because you were scared or maybe you kissed him because you were lost in the emotions you felt about him, and about yourself. There were moments when you were sad, and the next when you felt angry, rebellious, hopeless, irritated and lost.

Just run.

Just fucking run and stop thinking.

You're getting lost in your thoughts again, and he was going to catch you if you didn't stop now.

So you ran, and your heart was throbbing in your ears. Twigs snapped, birds cawed and for a second you thought you heard Jungkook.

You could hear another set of footsteps behind you, and the realisation dawned upon you. He's right behind you. You forced yourself to run even faster, ignoring the cuts that were plastered on your skin. You were running out of breath and your legs wobbled, they began to ache. You can't give up when you've come this far.

You can hear him getting closer to you. When you looked up straight ahead, there was a faint light that glowed uphill. A light! It could be a car, a home, or somebody. You bit your lip as you tried to go uphill, the pain in your feet grew as you stepped on sharp twigs and debris, desperately trying to climb up. You squinted your eyes to see a road, and your hope grew instantly.

You could leave, you could find someone and call for help, you could finally get away from him—

Jungkook's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. A scream erupted from your throat, and you thrashed in his hold.

No— you were right there, you were about to escape.

A sob broke from your lips as you kicked your legs, doing anything to get out of his hold. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, his hold on you tightening.

"Shh," his voice didn't soothe whatever you felt right now, "if you fight me back, I swear I'll make it worse for you."

The threat hung in the air, and it immediately made you stop your movements. Jungkook pushed you down to the forest floor, the wet soil coated your white dress, and this time the scratches stung even more.

"I was going to take you back, but look how far you made it. Almost made it out of here." A smirk formed on his lips as he took out the sleeping pill container.

"How does three sound?"

His words were a blur to your ears as you stared into the far distance. The light was still glowing brightly and soon a car drove by. You sobbed and your nails dug into the ground. Just a bit more time and you would've been free.

You felt the back of your head yanked up, and Jungkook's hand tugged your hair as you glared at him with furious eyes.

Jungkook whistled, smiling as he popped open the container.

"Don't look at me like that, you should have left the moment I started to count."

Your eyes fell to the water bottle next to him and that's when it hit you. Jungkook giggled at your reaction as he unscrewed the lid on the bottle.

"Came prepared because I knew my girl would get lost in these woods pretty fast, and far."

One hand gripped your jaw, and Jungkook pushed the pills inside your mouth. And he gave the bottle to you.

He wanted you to do it because he knew that you knew you lost. Your hands squeezed the bottle, and you brought it to your lips before chugging a good amount to swallow the pills.

"Did you say three?"

You asked him with a hopeless look.

"I lied," he said, watching you with a gleam on his face, "and gave you two instead because I don't want to kill you."

You wanted to laugh at that, maybe you should have just taken three. The effects soon hit you, and your eyes became sluggish, and your eyes blurred with tears. You lost your grip on the floor, and Jungkook swooped you into his arms effortlessly. His face was blurred as he was taking you back to the cabin. Just before your body shut down, right before your tears escaped and your eyes closed, Jungkook murmured to himself quietly, and a mixed feeling of hope and happiness washed over him.

“Think this one’ll last?” One of the guards who were hauling you asks his fellow guard with a snarky grin. The other responds with a sneer aimed down at you, “Mm, don’t know. They never really do. She might last a few weeks longer though, impressive enough she managed to sway the Timekeeper.”

You grunt as they tug you along like some ragdoll, speaking about you demeaningly with such condescension. You absolutely despised this, your feet were beginning to ache from all this shoving and walking, it felt as though it had been ages. Peering up at the sky, the sun was in the same place just before sunset. It was upsetting, you couldn’t even tell if time had passed or not because, well, time was dead.

A shiver passes through you as you finally spot the palace from which you’d seen as minuscule now loom over all of you. The diamond checker print path, comically large golden gates with red heart details and perilously sharp spikes.

Not to mention the palace itself, a colour palette of red, gold and white. Large spires and absurdly intricate architectural details gracing its features. Towers and domes, glass and walls, it truly was an architectural marvel that stood proud amongst the whimsical surroundings.

Certainly, it was a sight to behold. However, instead of wonder and amazement, it filled you with utter dread and anxiety instead. For you would have to meet the Red King of Hearts, the ruler of Wonderland. Someone, who Soobin had made very clear, was to be feared, cruel and selfish.

Your heart pangs with pain and misery. You really hoped Soobin was okay. Perhaps, he’d find a way out of being executed? How could Wonderland possibly lose its one and only Timekeeper? Your heart couldn’t take the thought of him bearing such capital punishment. They couldn’t possibly execute him immediately, right?

“Move the fuck along, stop dragging your feet,” the guard to your right snaps and you glare back at him as he shoves you forward. Pieces of shit, the whole lot of them! You mutter, “Fine, fine!”

Finally, you’re brought within the confines of the luxurious palace. The scale of everything intimidates you immensely. You peer around at this red, black and white lavish interior.

A shudder vibrates through you - maybe you were better off with Soobin. Everything happened so quickly. One moment he grasped your hand tightly and the next, you saw him getting dragged away!

“Keep it movin’ hun, not long to go before your demise,” the other guard snickers and your heart jumps to your throat, feeling a dreadful amount of nausea. What was the terribly rumoured Red King of Hearts like in person? Oh fuck, you probably weren’t going to even last a second!

All of you halt at a ginormous set of golden doors with intricate designs and ruby doorknobs. Oh, this must be it… The guards shove you through the set of grand heart engraved doors and you stumble to your knees due to the force.

Peering up timidly, you see the man himself, one leg atop the other, a bored expression on his face, his eyes glimmering in intrigue at your abrupt entry. The two doors shut behind you with a resounding clank, trapping you within the lion’s den.

The male’s lips quirk into a coy smile as he tilts head which was resting boredly on the palm of his hand. Uncrossing his legs, he stands with great poise and flourish, his blood velvet cape flapping behind him. Goodness…his intricate attire, he really did love the colour red…and well hearts. Rather fitting, actually.

This was the most consistent thing you’d seen in this place in all honesty; a jarring contrast to the clashing colours and whimsical nonsense outside. Oddly enough, this makes you feel even worse.

With caution, your gaze scans over his (criminally) handsome features, most remarkably his sharp eyes with a piercing gaze, his sleek jaw and lush rosy lips all complemented by raven black hair in which a few select strands hung over his forehead. The coy smile had your stomach doing flips and you releasing shaky breaths.

The clatter of his black boots echo on the checkered floor as he menacingly walks towards you as though he were a predator and you were nothing but prey. Your heart palpitates with great velocity and you can’t help but not move your gaze away from him. Your gazes lock, his gaze filled with a sly glimmer and yours filled with trepidation.

As he finally stands towering over your kneeling form, he smirks, a little too sweetly in fact as he says, “Ah, my darling guest, have you already fallen for me? Surely, you must have plans to keep me more entertained than that.” With a flick of his frilled wrist, he hums nonchalantly, “After all, you’ll find out very quickly, what happens to those I get bored with.”

You remain silent glaring up at the dramatic man. A boisterous laugh emits from his frame and he peers down at your pitiful form with a manic look in his eyes, “Oh? Cheshire Cat got your tongue?”

Your brows furrow in confusion. “Oh! You are just so adorable, look at your confused little expression, my darling. I could just devour you up,” he coos.

With a grimace, you murmur, “Where’s Soobin?” He crouches down abruptly startling you and he grins, “Soobin? I didn’t know you were so close to the White Rabbit?”

Your heart thuds against your ribcage as his piercing gaze impales you. “I really did wonder, you know, how you managed to sway that manic rabbit. The timekeeper is not easily swayed; he's always so, so, so, dedicated to being on time! To complete the tasks I set him. Yet,” he pauses with a laugh, “yet, you somehow captured his pathetic little heart and caused him to deviate off the set path and my important order of bringing any and all guests who wander into Wonderland to me!”

Another cruel cackle escapes him, “Oh? And now look! Now, he’s on death row because of who?” He questions you as if it is the funniest possible notion to ever exist. “Because of you, my darling!” You? Your eyes glaze over, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Ah, where are my manners making you about to cry on our first meeting? Do forgive me, my pretty little guest, it’s been so, so long since we’ve had a guest in Wonderland and well, I can’t contain my excitement around you. Oh, yes, yes! Introductions!”

“Darling, introduce yourself to your king.” Your king? How fucking vain! This man was infuriating! Your shakily glare in the tiniest hint of defiance. The King tilts his head observing your reaction and his gaze darkens as does his tone when his slender fingers grab your jaw tugging your face towards his, as he threatens lowly, “Don’t make me repeat myself, understood? I don’t like repeating myself. I like obedient little guests, who play their role as they should,” his fingers press into your skin, “So?”

You wince as you pry his hand off your jaw with a quiver. His personality was like night and day. This side of him was a stark contrast from mere moments ago, it scared you much more than the man with dramatic flair. Timidly, you mumble, “My name is Y/n.”

He hums in pleasant delight, “See? Was that so hard, darling? Now, I’m sure you know who I am, everyone does, but since you’re my guest, for courtesy and my own selfish desire, allow me to introduce myself,” he stands and with a flourish of his cape, he bellows, head held high with pride, “I am, the Red King of Hearts, the Ruler of Wonderland, the Apex of all here, or just for you my darling,” he abruptly crouches back down with a smirk, “Yeonjun.”

You mumble, “…Yeonjun.” How peculiar. Yeonjun grins, “How your sweet lips sound when you say my name, I do wonder what other sweet sounds I can get you to make.” A burst of warmth floods your cheeks at his crude insinuation.

Yeonjun’s gaze trails down your facial features, down your neck and your body, “Mm, I see the attire of your world continues to amuse me, ever rapidly changing I see. Though I won’t say it’s not displeasing, quite the opposite in fact.” His fingers once again cup your jaw, gentler this time, “You’re a pretty little darling aren’t you? I believe we will get along splendidly.” He leans forward, lips inches from yours, eyes darkening in a sadistic gaze, “Even if we don’t, I can fix that.”

He rises outstretching his hand with a long, exaggerated drawl, “Mm, now up, up, I don’t need you kneeling like a dog waiting for their master’s command.” His switch in tone from threat to lighthearted almost gives your whiplash. Yeonjun’s peers down at you with a grin, “Although, the view of you kneeling down like this isn’t too bad either.” With great haste you take his hand and pull yourself up with a huff.

A loud chuckle reverberates from him, “Oh you do make me laugh, that’s at least a good start,” he tugs you along with him, “Have I mentioned I don’t like being bored? I do hope you plan to entertain me as long as you’re here,” he peers back over his shoulder at you with a twinkle in his crazed eyes, “After all, your life depends on it.” A ruthless little laugh escapes his lips making your shoulders sag. Oh dear, you never really called yourself an interesting person, let alone entertaining. You were doomed!

“First, I’m going to provide the finest feast my loveliest new guest has ever laid eyes on, after all I need you on a full stomach to keep your energy up, hm?” Yeonjun delightfully utters and you feel your stomach churn, not in hunger but in fear. Now that you think about it, you weren’t that hungry. How much time passed in the outside world then?

“Hurry your step, I have worked the chefs extra hard today to make sure you have a feast upon your arrival,” he takes your arm, hooking it under his as he speedily walks along. Your feet stumble trying to keep up with him; you sigh, this was awful.

Within a few minutes, you’re presented with the finest feast you have indeed ever laid eyes on. Illustrious varieties of foods of different kinds, sizes, some whacky and some you recognise - either way they all looked delectable, making your mouth salivate at the thought of being able to eat some of this.

“Now, now, sit darling, the food will get cold otherwise and we can’t have that now, can we?” He coos ushering you along to a tufted chair at the head of the table, which was elaborately decorated. “For today, you can sit on my seat, since it’s been so, so, long since I’ve had a guest. Can you tell I’m just brimming with utter excitement? I can barely contain myself.”

With a firm but gentle nudge on your shoulders he pushes you to sit down and the servants place a napkin on your lap and you’re immediately presented with a white, gold and red rimmed plate with gold cutlery to boot. Yeonjun sits down in the seat to your right with a smirk lining his lips and muses, “Oh, you do look lovely sitting there so obediently.”

Hesitantly, you peer at the food not knowing what to pick with so much choice. You see his hand fly out, placing a plate of what seems to be steak in front of your plate and his other hand taking another plate filled with some sliced chicken surrounded by various vegetables. “Take your pick darling,” he hums.

Your eyes flicker unsurely between the two. You briefly peer back at Yeonjun who seems to have his hands clasped together under his chin whilst his elbows rest on the table and your heart sinks. He was regarding you with such interest as if every single one of your mannerisms was pure entertainment. Yeonjun’s gaze becomes coy and his lips quirk into a lopsided smirk, “Oh? Darling looking at me like that… I’m not on the menu tonight.”

Huffing, you respond, “That’s not- you-“ A chuckle escapes his lips, “Hm? Why? Am I not to your tastes? I’ve made a lot of people happy you know,” his voice takes a sultry edge as his head tilts slightly.

Your cheeks become warm and you turn your gaze back to the food. You point to one of them and he ever so kindly presents it on your plate with a sly smile, unnerving you incredibly.

“Eat up, darling. I’m sure you’ll love it.” With a clink of your knife and fork against the plate, you timidly begin eating and you notice he’s not touched a single morsel of food.

“Why aren’t you eating?” You question suspiciously. He pouts, “Oh? You care whether I eat? I can’t believe you’re getting so attached to me already. I’m so touched, such a kind heart you have.” Refraining from the urge to roll your eyes, you mutter, “It’s not that- just- it’s your feast..”

Swallowing another bite, you can’t help but relish in the divine taste. What the hell did they put in here to make something so regular taste so good? Then again, with a ruler like him, he probably expected nothing less than perfection or off with their heads!

He leans forward slightly, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and his gaze is alluring as he muses, his tone of voice changing drastically, “Does it taste good?”

You stiffen, “…Why?” He smiles just a tad too sweetly, “Don’t make me repeat myself, darling.” Looking down at the food on your plate, your breath becomes uneven. He muses with a twisted smile, “It doesn’t taste off, does it? I’d hate to punish my dear chefs, you know?”

Stammering, you drop your cutlery overwhelmed with a sense of anxiety, “N-No?” What was that supposed to mean? Taste off? Yeonjun smirks, “Oh it doesn’t? Are you just resistant to poison? That would make you even more of a remarkable guest than you already are.”

Poison? What the fuck? Nausea hits you instantly as you shove away the plate with noisy clatter and stand abruptly, cutlery scattered on the floor and you hyperventilate. What the fuck did you just eat?

Yeonjun lets out a boisterous guffaw, running his hand through his hair, giving it a tousle and adjusting his crown, “Oh did you not find my joke funny?” Joke? Was he joking?

You snap shakily, “What? Is it poisoned? Or not?” Yeonjun coos, “Darling, why would I kill off my newest toy, sorry, guest, so quickly? Where’s the fun in that? I just wanted to see your endearing reaction.”

Infuriated, you yell, “You-You sadist! I…I thought I consumed…” He gives you a smile, an uncomfortably serene one contrasting your outburst, “Oh hush now. This dish doesn’t have poison in it.”

Your eyes narrow, “What? This…dish?” He muses, “Half of these dishes do, and half of these don’t. Isn’t that fun?” He sighs dramatically leaning back in his chair, “Most guests don’t even make it past the first round, it’s so unfair, how stupid they are. You’re lucky, you chose the dish you did over the other.”

Your heart races; you were still alive this second, out of sheer luck. How fucking stupid could you be? No way in hell were you going to eat anything from this table!

“I’m not hungry- I’m not eating anything off this table!” You snap, hands trembling. Yeonjun’s eyes pierce into yours, “Now, now no need to throw a tantrum, darling. I suggest you sit yourself back down and play the game I’ve set up for you, less you face any unfavorable consequences.”

The threat lacing his voice is clear and you feel compelled to sit back down. He awaits, his gaze menacing and lips held in a twisted yet refined smile. The red heart shape painted around his left eye taunting you.

He pours you some water into the cup beside your plate and you peer at it with caution. Yeonjun snickers, “Allow me to be clear, the only thing that isn’t poisoned is the water. Everything else is merely a gamble. I want you to see this game through, and finish all the courses. I’ve skipped the starter just because I actually want you to have a chance to win. I can’t have my guest dying after waiting for so long!”

You eye the water with a grimace; you couldn’t take his words at face value anymore. Yeonjun muses with a shrug, as you don’t touch the cup of water, “Oh? Suit yourself then. I’m feeling rather parched.” He takes the cup downing it and your jaw clenches. It was indeed not poisoned.

You peer at the food across the table; this explains the sheer variety. Every single dish was a danger; you had no way of finding out which was poisoned. No wonder people didn’t make it past even a few days! With sadistic games like this? Who would? There had to be a few who managed to pass by sheer luck only to displease the king and be executed anyway.

Yeonjun places his hand atop yours, rubbing circles across the back of your hand with his thumb and you stiffen under his touch. “Hm…you look pale, are you that scared, darling? You’re almost making me feel bad for you, you know?”

“Is…Is there nothing else we can play?” You timidly question and it seems to surprise him. No one has dared to ask to play another game. All he’s heard are pitiful cries, pathetic begging and whimpering, some even boldly try to run away or some foolish guests even have tried to stab him. Yet you…you were different. Perhaps, the Timekeeper was indeed right to attempt to steal you away all to himself.

A manically delighted expression crosses his face making you feel even more unsettled. “Oh you continue to surprise me, darling. Another game? Oh I’d be happy to indulge your lovely request.” He relishes the spark of hope glimmering in your beautiful eyes, the slight flutter of your lashes.

His lips form a dark smile, how he’d love to douse that flame of hope. Very, very few had ever made it out past the Red King of Hearts’s palace. Mostly because they died! Yeonjun regards your face, your frame and he can’t help but feel strongly for you. Maybe because it’s been awhile, but he doesn’t want to let you go. Perhaps, he could keep you like a little bird in a golden cage that he could visit whenever he desired. Why must all the guests here die? If only they weren’t so incompetent.

Perhaps he could keep you until he grew utterly bored. You were oh so pretty after all, it would be such a waste. Yeonjun hums, “Darling, since I’m growing ever so fond of you, I’ll be incredibly generous just this once. I want to be entertained so, just chatting can only go so far. Why don’t you suggest a game to play?”

“…A game to play? Me?” You question shakily. He was giving you a choice. You peer around seeing the servants bewildered by his words and wide-eyed. He had abandoned this game of dangerous dining, just because you offered to play another game. Was he truly that fond of you? Gaging the servants’ reactions, you could tell this was something that had never happened before.

Perhaps, this was your chance at escape. You had to take advantage of this once in a blue moon chance! Think, think, think!

Yeonjun’s sly gaze runs over your features and he hums, “Oh I know it’s a big decision, so take your time. But that also doesn’t mean I’m the most patient man, darling.” So…did he want you to be quick or take your time?

As you grind the gears of your brain, Yeonjun observes your mannerisms, finding them rather endearing. He knew you wanted to escape. That dastardly rabbit must have spewed all sorts of nasty things to you about him! His lips quirk up into a smirk, it was very cute how hard your little brain must be whirring. There was no escaping him, no escaping the Red King of Hearts in Wonderland.

In this world, he ruled. No one goes unchecked, no one leaves and enters without him knowing. Every single thing, every single person, being, whatever it was that resided here belonged to him and him alone, without question. He leans forward resting his chin once more against his palm, especially you. His newest guest, he didn’t want you to die so quickly like the others.

Though with how you manage to seduce the White Rabbit, he wonders if you were just putting on a meek and timid facade. Whatever game you were playing, Yeonjun relished in it, so much so, he was giving you the oh so rare opportunity to decide. For once, the guest asked to play a different game, how bold indeed. If anyone else in the past had said such a thing, he’d have gauged their eyes out with the very cutlery on the table!

Such pretty lashes, glimmering eyes and kissable lips you had. All of you, just a sight for sore eyes. He hums in approval. Oh, he could just imagine you dolled up, caged in his chambers, like a pretty little bird, all for himself. He didn’t want to let you go, kill you like the others, well unless you were abhorrently boring of course, but who knows when the next guest would arrive in Wonderland!

“Your majesty,” a voice interrupts his reverie and he snaps, “What?” A colourfully absurd invitation is placed in front of him by one of the servants and Yeonjun groans exasperated. “Oh how many times more must I incinerate these disgusting little invitations he sends me?”

You eye the invite; ‘The March Hare and Hatter cordially invite his majesty for our terrific tea party!’ The Mad Hatter..the killer of time? March Hare? What in wonderland were these titles? A tea party?

‘Follow the pastel bunting or jump down the timekeeper’s burrows and see where they lead, maybe you’ll just bump into one of us and see!’

What the fuck type of invite was this? Burrows? There wasn’t even a time or place! Then again it was all because of a stupid ass invite that you were stuck here in the first place!

Burrows…Soobin. You frown. Huh, that means Soobin must have burrows everywhere across Wonderland. Your mind ticks faster as more connections form. So…he must have one to get to the palace since he does work directly under the Red King of Hearts, running Wonderland. So he must have dozens more within the palace and grounds to get to other places!

Before you and Soobin got caught by Yeonjun’s guards, you were about to go down one of them anyway! It’s bound to be a quick way to different places! You just had to find one of his burrows in the palace!

“Burn it,” Yeonjun snaps, repulsed by the invite. The servant bows retreating hastily and you meet his gaze. His angered expression immediately morphs into one of coddle and awe, “Well, my darling?”

Clearing your throat, you reply, “Hide and Seek.” He raises a brow before replying, “Hide and Seek, a rather childish game, no? Why? Are you that good at hide and seek?”

You murmur, “Well, no, but it’s entertaining, isn't that what you want? Plus…I don’t get to…die?” Your voice raises unsurely at the end.

The hall goes silent as he processes your words; his face is serious as he stands abruptly startling you. Did he see through your plan? You wanted to scour the palace, the courtyards and gardens for at least one of Soobin’s burrows. The most inconspicuous way was to indulge in a dangerous game with Yeonjun.

He hums, his fingers tapping the table, “Hm, and what do I get if I win? After finding you of course?”

You quip, “What if I want to seek first? Must I always be the one to hide?” His eyes widen slightly and the servants freeze at your words. A large cackle escapes his lips as his pupils dilate, excitation brimming within him, “Oh, oh I like you. I like you a lot. I guess that pretty mouth of yours can do more than just whimper.”

Yeonjun’s words make you flush as his intense gaze runs over you as you stand. Play along for now. That’s all you have to do.

He walks up to you with a wry smile as he cups your jaw, “You don’t think I know what you’re trying to do?” Your blood runs cold. Fuck. Yeonjun leans down, his breath against your ear, “You don’t think I know how much you want to leave my grasp?”

You glare up at him shakily. Your faces are inches apart and he muses quietly, “You’re lucky that I’m willing to even indulge in your silly games. Every single corner of this palace is lined with my guards. Don’t think I’m stupid, darling.” The way his demeanor switches like day and night has you reeling.

You murmur resolutely, “Neither am I.” He smirks, “I hope, indeed. So,” he steps back taking one of your hands in his rubbing his thumb on the back of it delicately, “Hide and Seek. I want to up the stakes. The game you want to play is a little boring. We’ll have two rounds where we swap roles as the seeker and hider.”

Reluctantly, you nod. Yeonjun resumes, “First round, you’ll be the seeker. You find me. Within the time limit of course. If you do, I’ll grant any wish you like, give you all the riches you desire,” he hums deviously, “Pleasures that you would have never experienced before, and so on and so forth.” Yeonjun’s lips form a dark smile, “If you don’t, well, that just means, I get a point.”

That’s it? Something was awfully wrong. “Next round, I’m the hider? You’re the seeker. Is it the same rules?” You question nervously. He nods, “Yes darling, if you manage to hide for long enough, then you get a point! If you don’t, well…” he releases a dark chuckle, “Well, we’ll get to that.”

You glare, “No, I want to know. What do I get if I win? Other than whatever riches and such. What if I want f-“

“If you’re thinking freedom, darling,” he begins with a dark glare as he leans down, “Forget it,” he seethes. His tone sends shivers down your spine and the deranged look in his eyes is enough to make your knees buckle.

“If…I win,” he laughs as if the thought is utterly delicious, “Then, you’re mine. You already are, but in a more true sense of the word. You’ll be mine, you’ll get the rare privilege of being kept alive. For my entertainment! See, I can’t bring myself to kill you, well, not so easily I mean. Think of yourself like a bird in a golden cage, sitting prettily waiting for me, no responsibilities, nothing, just existing for me alone. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

You peer at his unhinged demeanor and you almost feel sick. Was that his idea of fun? It almost seems like his other ‘guests’ had the easy way out through death! A shaky breath escapes you and it doesn’t go unnoticed and he smiles, “Oh? You don’t like that idea? I could just display your pretty little head on my mantle in my office instead, but I thought it’d be a shame.” You pale instantly.

You grunt, “I’d rather you not.” He hums, “Glad we agree, darling. Now close those pretty eyes of yours and start counting to a hundred. You have a generous twenty minutes to find me.” Hundred!? Yeonjun grins with a flirtatious wink as he brushes past you, “No skipping numbers,” he mutters menacingly, “I despise cheaters.”

Glaring, you begrudgingly turn around and cover your face with your hands and hear his echoing footsteps. Indeed this seemed childish. You’d let him hide wherever the fuck he wanted. You’d be under the pretense of trying to find him when in actuality you were looking for burrows.

“…98, 99, 100.” Your eyes open and you see the knights standing guard keeping a sharp eye on you. Well, presumably so, that you didn’t skip any numbers. How pathetic.

With exasperation, you begin walking around the winding and twisting hallways of the grand palace. Everything reeked of Yeonjun from the decor to the winding hallways and architecture, the colour palette and furniture. The mirror panels lining the walls, how vain was he? You see your reflection walking alongside you everywhere and it creeped you out. What a weird place.

You knew you had twenty minutes, so you had to cover as much ground of this hellhole as you could before the time was up. You were in no way trying to actually look for that maniac! As you walk around; the guards and various servants all eye you and you feel a constant sense of unease. Always being watched. Whether it be them or Yeonjun himself.

Ten minutes had passed according to the knight who informed you midway (with what godforsaken clock they had, you didn’t know). You had managed to find your way around, use pieces of furniture and decor to make sure you didn’t repeat your route in this massive place. There was still much to explore, you seemed to have covered the entire West Wing of the palace.

Not a single peep out of Yeonjun. He was not stupid that was for damn sure. You knew he was watching you. You knew he was making sure you wouldn’t try anything funny, such as escape. You were sure though, he didn’t know about your out of the box plan of using the White Rabbit’s burrows.

“Five minutes, Miss Y/n.” A knight suddenly barks and you clutch your chest startled by the sudden shout. Muttering, you speed your pace, “Fucking hell,” you didn’t know if Soobin had a direct way into the palace. Perhaps you had to think simpler. What if it was genuinely outside? The gardens.

Yes, if you skipped the East Wing and went straight for the gardens. But…you had no time. You still had the next round but, you would be the hider. Your mind whirrs trying to plan everything out; your arms crossed over your chest in deep thought.

“Oh, you’re terribly bad at this game, darling, now there’s only two minutes left,” a voice reaches your ear and you scream, stumbling back. Your eyes widen seeing Yeonjun with a dangerously sharp gaze peering down at your startled form.

“Come now, do I scare you that badly? I’m not scary.” Yeonjun smirks crouching down to your level, “What a pitiful attempt at both escape and seeking. I like your bravery, well, I should say more so stupidity. But it’s entertaining, very much so, so keep doing it,” he stands back up towering over your trembling form as he darkly hums, “I’ll have so much fun with you afterwards.”

“I was hiding in the gardens by the way, what a pity you didn’t set foot outside.” Fuck. Perhaps you should have started there. You didn’t want to be so fucking obvious though!

“At least you’re dedicated to the game, in one way, I suppose,” he dryly muses, “I was bored waiting for you darling so I came to you instead, but that does mean you unfortunately, or fortunately for me, lose.”

Rolling your eyes, you get up, “Yeah, yeah.” Yeonjun still towers over your frame despite standing and he places a hand atop your head, “How cute. You still have some attitude. A sore loser are we?” You gaze up at him and you stiffen at the manic gleam in his eyes and he releases a laugh, “I like that expression on your face.”

He leans down, “It suits you. Fear. Anxiety. Makes your face, oh so, adorable.” His voice is utterly condescending. It enrages you and causes you to shiver. The depth and tone of his voice, scratches your brain as he alluringly regards you.

Yeonjun’s fingers grasp your jaw tilting your head up more, “Keep entertaining me like this, pretty thing and you’ll have me obsessed with you. Not many have the gall that you do.” You pry his hand off making him smile amused.

“The next round.” You state with a shaken glare and racing heart. Yeonjun sighs dramatically, “Ah, yes, yes. Why the rush? Eager to leave? Not like you can, when my guards are everywhere.”

You mutter, “Isn’t that cheating? What if they just tell you where I’m hiding?” He arches a brow with a smirk, “Oh? You think I’d stoop so low.” Oh he totally would - anything to win. You know it.

With a challenging expression, you hum confidently, “Do this round without your guards. They cannot tell you where I am. Just you,” you step forward, inches away from each other, “and me.”

You can tell he’s taken slightly aback, by your sudden surge of confidence and your demand. You spot the workings of his mind as his eyes peer back into yours. You hum, “Unless…you can’t? Because you’re afraid I’d really escape? Then what threat are you? Catch me with your own two hands and…” you shakily grit and force out the words like they’re acid on your tongue, “…and I’m all yours.”

Your proposition, your intentional wording, the tilt of your head, proximity, the ever so subtle flutter of your lashes, you had to use his hubris, his own arrogance against him. “All mine? That’s rather hard to believe.”

You murmur, “Well, I’d rather be here than the Hatter or lost out there. You took the one guide I had.” This makes Yeonjun smirk and he hums, “Aren’t you a sneaky little thing?” He trails his hand up your arm resting his hand on your shoulder before pulling you against him and whispering, “I might have almost believed you, with that siren gaze and silky words of yours.”

Fuck him! “But, I’ll entertain you nonetheless. Either way, you’ll be mine whatever the outcome is,” he hums presumptuously, taking a step back and he outstretches his hand. “Without the guards it is. Allow me to inform the General. Oh, don’t try the gates, they’re locked. Don’t scale the garden fences, they have spikes, unless you like being impaled. Do you?”

Grimacing, you respond, “I don’t.” He muses, “Figured.” Yeonjun alerts his guards and the General and you feel your heart palpitate with unease in your chest. This was it. Make your way to the gardens. Scour the entire place for burrows. Prolong the game, without him finding you. Sounds easy enough, right? The gardens themselves must be huge.

“So darling,” Yeonjun begins with a wry grin, an excited twinkle in his eyes, “Let the game begin. I’ll count to a hundred, I promise I won’t skip any numbers.” Liar.

With all your might, you start sprinting. Where the fuck were the doors to the garden, you didn’t know. Okay, okay, just use the windows as a guide. Peering around you see a stretch of plants and trees, fencing and a path, this area seems to be facing the front of the palace, where you could spot the grand gates through which you were hauled through. Twisting around, you peer to your left, that had to go back to the West Wing which you had already explored. With the way the path from the gate twisted, it would be quicker to get to the garden through the West wing.

Luckily, you weren’t too terrible at directions only doubling back one or two times before using the windows and looking outside to roughly ascertain your position and remain on the outskirting hallways of the palace. Your eyes widen seeing the bustling servants and trays of buckets of fresh vegetables being carried; yes! The gardens must be nearby.

What if you asked the servants? “Excuse me?” You call out stopping one and the vibrant red and white coloured woman peers at you absurdly, “Yes?”

“Where are the gardens?” You ask with glimmering hope. She hums, “Ah, you must be the new guest. I’m sorry I cannot tell you.” You plead, “Please, please. It’s not to escape I swear, I just need to hide.”

“He’ll have my head,” she responds with a dull expression and you sigh in frustration. She peers over her shoulder down a particular hallway. You spot many other servants coming through a set of wooden doors. You smile at her; “Oh, oh now I know.” She may have unintentionally let you know. But oh well!

Making your way through the bustling servants, you shove past them through the wooden doors and get smacked by the familiar eery sunset of Wonderland. The gardens truly looked magnificent, trimmed bushes, neat soil patches, flowers of every size, shape and colour, both elegant and wacky. Your eyes widen seeing one egregiously large flower looming over the others.

The checker-print adorned gardeners peer at you with disgust but you ignore it as you swiftly make your way through the gardens following the paths and trying not to become distracted with the oddly shaped bushes- mostly hearts.

Yeonjun had probably finished counting ages ago. Yet here you were with no progress out in the open sticking out in your modern attire like a green thumb. Perhaps you had to check the outskirts, burrows to other places would be easier from there right? Well, whatever weird logic you came up with, you had no choice but to try it.

You stiffen as a voice bellows out, “Oh, my, my, I think I spot a precious little bird fluttering out in the open unsure where to hide.” Fuck, fuck, fuck! How did he know to come out to the gardens? Of course he did, he’s not fucking stupid! He probably asked around, he obviously broke his own rules? Piece of shit!

Enraged and terrified, you bolt off, hearing his deranged cackle echo throughout the garden. Oh, he was insane. He definitely enjoyed chasing you around as though you were prey and he a hunter, a little too much for your liking.

Yeonjun walks confidently in his step, how lovely you were. Making this so easy for him. So what if he cheated and asked where you went? His servants could never disobey his orders. A delightfully twisted laugh escapes his lips, or he’d have their heads on a platter.

He did say he didn’t like cheaters, but he never said he couldn’t be one himself. He only didn’t like them if it meant he couldn’t win. What king would he be, if he followed the rules like the vermin below? No, he was above the rules. And well, he wanted you. At any cost.

No matter where you were in Wonderland, he’d always get you. Every guest that lands in this decrepit place was his to do with as he pleased. His gaze follows your minute figure as you sprint off making him smile. Oh he could imagine it now, dressed in the finest gowns hands strung up with the softest silk ribbon, at his mercy.

With a giddy step, he begins walking faster. Hm, perhaps your suggestion of hide and seek was a good one after all. He always did have a little sadistic streak in him.

Panting for breath you peer around desperately. The gardens were kept in immaculate condition. Not a single burrow in sight. Had they covered them up or something? Did you become over ambitious or were you just stupid?

The crunch of stones and soil resound and you feel fear grip your lungs like a vice. Yeonjun could be anywhere, he knew this damn place better than you did that for sure. Did he catch onto your plan?

Running more, you keenly look around and you turn another corner seeing nothing to your utter disappointment. Fuck. It was only a matter of time. Even if you manage to keep Yeonjun from finding you within the time, it was a win-win for him. Freedom wasn’t on the table for you.

You freeze suddenly hearing the crunch of footsteps and immediately duck behind some hedges, covering your mouth. A twisted tune is hummed by Yeonjun who walks narrowly by, making you shiver. He was truly enjoying this.

“Oh I swear you were here, I saw that lovely face of yours just moments ago. Hm, perhaps you’re that skittish, like a little rabbit on the run from a fox?” Yeonjun utters aloud.

His voice was brimming with twisted pleasure. You ease as he walks away and you release your held breath. Fuck, that was close. Giving it a few more seconds, you slowly make your way behind the topiaries trying to remain hidden as you scour the ground. At this point, you believe you‘ve barely even made a dent into the garden. You were purely trying your luck with the edges. That just made the most sense right?

As you turn the corner to the next side, you see this side is a little more unkempt, overgrown, yet there’s still many topiaries and the path in the distance. Your eyes catch light of a few degraded streamers and a paper plate disintegrating. Huh. Perhaps you were getting close after all.

You continue making your way around, sneaking with trepidation. It was a little too quiet. You catch more glimpses of papers, broken cups and worn and torn down invites, with illegible writing and smudges. Your eyes see a worn sign; ‘Beware Timekeeper Burrow ahead, proceed with caution and watch your step. Unstable ground.’

Yes, yes, yes! You could have never been happier in your life to see a warning sign!

“Mm? Oh, I see now. It all makes sense seeing you stick to the edge of the garden,” you spin around mortified to see him approaching you with a sickening smile. “Oh darling, you’re quite the smart thing aren’t you.”

A laugh, an unhinged one emits from him, “Too bad, I’m smarter. Now, come here,” he snarls. With a piercing scream, you run almost stumbling over your own feet from fear. Oh, he was terrifying.

You hear his ragged breathing and delirious laugh getting closer, your lungs burn and vision blurs with tears. Wind whips past your face and you have to try your hardest to keep an eye out for the unassuming burrow. The soil cracks and flakes at your harsh steps, truly the ground was unstable here. Fuck!

With a curious glance over your shoulder, you scream horrendously loud seeing his hand inches from your shoulder and his manic gaze, “Got you!”

Roughly, you’re pushed down onto the ground; twigs and stones or whatever else painfully prick your back and soil stains your skin as you struggle against him. Yeonjun pins your arms down with a laugh, “Goodness, it’s been so long since I’ve been this entertained. You might become my most favourite guest I’ve ever had.”

You huff and writhe trying to escape his grasp. No, no, no! You could feel it, instinctually, you were so close! “W-What about the time-“ He chuckles his breath brushing over your face, his raven locks hanging over his eyes, “Oh, that ended ages ago. You’re good at keeping away from me you know-“

“That means I get a point-“ you scramble, your thoughts an utter mess. “So? Either way, you’re mine. It’s a tie then. What should we do about that? Hm?” Yeonjun’s lips stretch into a smile, “You’re so pretty when you try to outsmart me, you might even surpass the rage I feel right now for such a stupid move.”

Breathless, you feel your limbs ache from exhaustion, the pump of blood and adrenaline echoing in your eardrums. Not like this. His devilishly handsome face hovers over yours relishing in your defeat. No, you still had a chance. You needed to get him off you, but he had strength.

Your gaze drops to his lips, parted, panting, he was also out of breath. Were you out of your mind? Perhaps. Your gaze flicks back up to his eyes as he observes your quiet demeanor.

“Mm? What’s that lovely head of yours thinking about now?” He hums amused. You say nothing peering back down at his lips and he seems to take notice, his brows furrowing. That’s it. Confusion.

Pushing aside all rationale and morals, you tilt yourself upwards meeting your lips with his in a clumsy kiss. His eyes widen taken wildly aback. His grip loosens around your arms and you shove them away; he momentarily panics before you wrap your arms around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss. Yeonjun freezes.

Wonderland, what a place. Perhaps you really had become insane already. Resorting to this. No matter how sinfully good his luscious lips felt against yours, no matter how lust crept into the crevices of your body. At the end of the day, your sense of self-preservation came first.

You feel him part from you breathless, desire and glee flickering in his dark gaze as he releases a breathy laugh cupping your cheek, “You’re…insane.” How ironic, his words were. You muse, “Am I?” “You dare to kiss the king?” He murmurs against your lips.

“Is that so bad?” You murmur slowly, removing his hand from your cheek. You hear the clatter of armour and he momentarily peers towards the sound. Now!

With a harsh elbow into his temple, you shoot out from under him with a brief stumble and run. For a moment, he’s dazed as his men yell bewildered, “Sire- she-!”

Yeonjun snarls with a breathless laugh, “Huh. Go get her. That sly-.” Yeonjun watches as his knights rattle after her. Though, he doesn’t seem too worried. A smirk lining his lips, his mind thinking back to your lips on his. Oh, how bold you were.

Even if you didn’t admit it, you were perhaps just as insane as he was, for attempting such a stunt. In fact, he was enraged further, because now, he really wanted you. You were no longer ever disposable. He just had to have you.

Still running, you slip here and there as the soil crumbles and gives out. Your eyes widen seeing a pile of rocks and a crevice leading to the ground. That had to be it. Without looking back, you start rolling off the rocks, sheer adrenaline pushing you through, you begin to see the cobwebbed and dark hole leading into the ground. It seemed it hadn’t been used in awhile. You didn’t even know where the fuck this headed.

You hear the knights approach. Fuck it, you couldn’t risk being trapped here for eternity. Closing your eyes and inhaling, you jump down, hissing in pain feeling the jagged stones and soil against your skin, it burned; as you slid down. Keeping your eyes shut, to avoid the claustrophobic surroundings. Dreadfully you hear the soil and ground behind you, crack and crumble and any semblance of light goes out. Oh right, the ground was unstable!

Prying your eyes open, you break out into a sprint once more seeing the passage behind you collapsing in on itself. How fucking horrifying. Tears run down your face.

Meanwhile, the knights peer from the ground mortified at the closed in burrow. Surely, you’d die? Yeonjun walks up to the sight and his gaze darkens.

“Huh, you all are more useless than expected,” his voice is eerily calm, sending utter fear through all the knights as they pale. Yeonjun crosses his arms and he hums, “It’s alright.” He gazes past the hedges through the bars of the extravagantly tall fence. Hm, this was the older burrow that Soobin used, yes? If I recall, this should go through Hatter and Hare’s territory.”

The knights peer solemnly at the crumbling burrow. Oh dear, that was a place in Wonderland everyone wanted to avoid. For that place is where one would experience death. Not that of the body, but of the mind, but of sanity.

Yeonjun hums with a flick of his wrist nonchalantly to the seething rage boiling underneath his calm exterior. His lips quirk into a sadistic smile, “It’s fine. Once she stumbles into the Hatter or that pathetic Hare, she’ll regret everything. In fact,” a chuckle leaves his lips, “She’ll be begging to come back here.”

Silence emits from the knights. Well, that’s if you didn’t suffocate to death of course.

Yeonjun snaps his head over his shoulder sending a dark gaze at the small troop of knights and he smiles a little too sweetly. “Oh, and for your incompetence to catch my guest. I’m afraid, I’m not too happy.” Yeonjun turns to face them fully and hums ruthlessly, “What good are cards that I have no use for in my deck?”

They stiffen, horror painting their faces and limbs trembling. “Savour your necks, whilst you have them, that is.” He walks past them with a dark glare and malevolent smile.

Perhaps, he’d have to take up the Hare on his repulsive invite after all. Either way, you’d find out very quickly, what a mistake it was to leave him.

Taglist: [open]

You gulped, and your foot impatiently tapped the wooden floorboards and it immediately stopped once you heard his footsteps. Your gaze was fixated on the corner of the table— you didn't want to look up.

You wanted to ignore him, wanted to ignore that bile feeling in your stomach that made you nauseous. His boots stomped across the room, getting closer to you and your fingers intensified the scratching.

Jungkook dipped his head towards your neck, his warm breath gently brushing over your skin, as it sent a shiver down your spine. His hands were tangled in the locks of your hair, and he pulled it gently. He kissed the side of your neck and rested his chin on your head.

"Food's cold."

Your eyes darted to the plate of food he had given you not long ago, and you hadn't touched it since he left for some errands. Normally you would eat the meals he made for you but your mind was eating you up, the constant thought of him possibly knowing you tried to escape last night.

But how would he know? Even if you had slipped a pill into his meal, which knocked him out for about thirty minutes, how would you escape? When you opened the front door the chilly air that hit you caused you to blink several times.

You were free. You finally get to leave.

But as you took the first step outside, your eyes scanned the tall trees that decorated the entire area. Your heart sank. You couldn't get out of this place because you don't know how to.

Where would you go even if you had run deep into the woods? Would you even find a road? A path that could lead you to a sane person? You tried to reason with yourself as you looked back inside. This was your chance to get away from a monster like him, you could report him to the police and go back to your family and friends...

But what if he found you? What if you were lost, and by the time he woke up and figured out you were gone, what would he do? He'd go berserk, and he will find you. You don't know why but you're certain of it. You don't know the woods very well unlike him.

Jungkook knows his way around this deserted place, he's lived in this small cabin for years now, and he held you captive for months now. Of course, he would know, he prepared it just for you. What if you died while trying to escape? What if—

You closed the door as your back rested against it. You were so pathetic, so hopeless.

You stood up and walked up the creaky stairs, entering the bedroom where Jungkook was sleeping on. The effect of the pill even had such good timing that it hit him when he was getting ready for bed with you anyway.

Yet, you wasted it.

A scream was lodged in your throat, and your lips trembled. You hated to cry, but you couldn't help it. The warm tears trailed down your face as you crawled onto the bed.

Kill him.

Your own mind spoke to you, and your breaths shook as you heard your next words.

Go on. Wrap your hands around his neck, and kill him.

Decorate him like a bow on a present, and kiss his lips until you can't breathe anymore.

Your eyes widened when your hands were on his neck. They squeezed the fragile base, and you could feel his pulse. Slow and rhythmic, and it matched the quiet breaths he let out.

You inspected his face, and his hair fell on the top of his eyebrows, his eyelids were shut and his lips were parted open.

He was demented, a cruel person. You won't ever forget the things he did to you, how you felt so humiliated because of him. He took you away from your loved ones just so he could selfishly keep you and show his immense love curated just for you.

But you still couldn't do it.

You pulled your hands away quickly and Jungkook's fingers twitched. There wasn't much time left till he woke up. If you killed him, you would have won and lost at the same time.

You had no idea where you were, and there was no cell reception for you to call anyone. How would you prepare food, and fend for yourself? You don't even know a pathway that could help you to leave this damn forest. What would you do without him? But at least he would be gone.

You sighed and wiped your tears away, and you curled up next to him. You don't know why but your hands automatically reached out to play with his hair until you fell asleep. You don't know why but there was a part of you that didn't want to leave him.

You snapped back into reality once you felt Jungkook slither his arms down your shoulders as he murmured softly.

"Come to the bedroom with me, baby."

You didn't hesitate to follow behind him, and even if you didn't want to come he'd force you to anyway. Jungkook shut the door once you stepped inside the bedroom, and he took off his leather jacket before he put it back on again.

He sat on the edge of the bed and checked out the dress you wore for him. A white mini dress adorned with white laced straps, and the soft, flimsy part stopped on your thighs midway. The embodiment of the outfit hugged your structure beautifully like a doll, and Jungkook couldn't control his growing desire for you.

He patted his lap, and his words came out in a command.

"Sit."

You took a step forward, and Jungkook grabbed your waist, making you sit down on his lap. One arm was wrapped around your waist tightly, and his other hand gripped your chin. Your faces were inches away from each other as Jungkook stared at you intently.

"You wanna tell me something, beautiful?"

Dear god no..

You shook your head at him, watching his lips form into a frown.

"Don't lie to me sweetheart, you know I don't like lying."

His tone had turned serious, and your stomach churned uncomfortably. Jungkook shuffled his arm to get something from his pocket, and he retrieved the item, showing it to you.

"What were these doing under the bed, baby?"

He shook the container filled with sleeping pills, (blue and white) and your fingers dug into his shoulders firmly. Your eyes were filled with terror, and panic flooded in your veins.

Jungkook chuckled at your reaction, and he brought your chin closer to his face. You were forced to stare at him, to look into the eyes that frightened you almost every day, no matter how loving he tried to be.

They were crazed...a look you never wanted to see. His tongue peeked out from his lips, and it traced the silver piercing that was on the flesh of his lips.

"You really think you knocked me out last night?"

Your heart banged against your ribcage, and your breathing increased. He can't know, he can't, he can't, he can't-

"Did you think I wouldn't notice the little act of you wanting to cook for me all of a sudden? Huh?"

Jungkook squeezed your cheeks harshly, and his lips moved against your cheek.

"I wanted to play along. Give you that feeling of being triumphant over something ridiculous. You really are a fool, aren't you?"

Your eyes darted away from his, and your hands were off his shoulders. You yelped softly when you felt him push you even further into him, your chests touching each other as he made sure he held you more securely.

His hand flew to your neck, and he grabbed it roughly, and his nails dug into your skin.

"Eyes on me when I'm fucking talking to you. And don't even think about fighting back." Jungkook's eyes narrowed and darkened as he spoke right against your quivering lips.

Your heart was beating rapidly, and you felt suffocated as if the smoke from a wildfire was in the room. He found out...Jungkook found out.

"When you tried to choke me- honestly...I was surprised. But I knew you didn't have it in you. You wanna know why? It's because you're a fucking pussy, baby. You don't have the guts to kill someone."

A laugh vibrated wholeheartedly from his chest and you felt his cold hand drawing circles on your thigh. He put his lips towards your neck, taking a long inhale before he spoke again.

"You were such a good girl a couple of days ago, what happened to that good little girl who listened to me? Hm?"

You wanted to get out of his grip so bad. Your palms, slick with fear adhered to his shirt like trembling moths ensnared in the silky strands of a spider's web. Your delicate touch betrayed the intensity of your uneasiness with each shuddering breath you took.

Jungkook pulled away from you, a sudden thought coming to his mind. He stops drawing circles on your thighs, and he tilts his head slightly.

"I'm going to give you a chance to run away, okay?"

No.

"Gonna count till...thirty, and you're going to run into those woods as fast as you can."

Stop.

"If I find you..." his hands slide up on the side of your body, arms encircling around your back, "I'm gonna shove these down your pretty little throat, got it?"

Jungkook motioned to the sleeping pill container, sending a wave of goosebumps flying over you, and the hairs on your neck stood as you took a solid gulp. He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours before he pulled away. His arms loosened around your back, brushing your hair away from your face. He lowered his forehead against yours, murmuring softly.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

For a moment, you were in a daze, lost in his eyes, captured in them. You didn't want to leave since he was probably messing around with you. You couldn't help but continue to stare at his doe eyes as your reflection glowed inside those dark eyes.

How were you so lost in them? Lost in the eyes of a man who kidnapped you, claiming he loved you. You were lost in your life, alone with no proper companion. Your life was already ruined, and you ached to be loved by someone. That's why he took you because he had a reason, and you didn't have a reason to deny it. You needed someone, and Jungkook claimed that he was the one.

He's observed you before, and you caught his eyes like a hawk once you bumped into him on your way to work. That's why he was able to snatch you on a cold Winter night, and he caught you, his prey, so easily. Why? You were lost, just lost in reality, lost in your depressive thoughts, and lost in love. You were just a poor girl lost in her delusions and wondering if your life would have been different if you had chosen the right decisions. You didn't notice him walking behind you, advancing on you before you could even utter a single scream.

It was an impulse and before you knew it your lips attached to Jungkook's moving ones. You grabbed onto his shirt, kissing him with soft movements.

Kissing him till you couldn't breathe anymore.

His hand was tangled in your hair and he pulled you closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. It was like Jungkook got the message, you wanted some hope, false hope to be exact. His tongue prodded at your lips before it slipped inside, and your body was growing hot as you both made out.

You almost let out a whine when he sucked and nipped on your bottom lip before he pulled away. You watched the way his chest rose and fell before a breathy laugh escaped his lips. His eyes scanned your face, and Jungkook grinned. He brought his hand to your face, wiping fresh tears off your face.

You were crying? Of course, just lost again but lost with him in an intimate moment.

He cupped your face, and his head beckoned to the door.

"Still haven't finished yet, baby, I'm close to twenty, you sure you don't wanna run now?"

You let out a quiet sniffle, getting off of him and once you left the room you sprinted down the stairs. You didn't bother to put your shoes on as you ran into the woods, your white socks already muddied. You ran and ran, and this time you noticed yourself crying. Why has your life turned into this? Why did you kiss him?

Your body shook with each step you took and each shuddering breath made you want to give up. It was completely dark, and the tall trees engulfed the entire area. There was barely any light, how were you even going to get away from him? The wind blew harshly over your face as you slowed down, stopping at a trail that seemed endless.

You wanted to laugh, but why did you even attempt to escape yesterday? Why did you even think about escaping in the first place? You know what happens, Jungkook has taught you several times but you just don't stop. Your life was shitty, your family disowned you because you were a disappointment to them. Your friends were toxic and fake, and you were alone. And you hated that.

Is that why you kissed him?

You kissed him because he was the only person who knew what your life was like, you kissed him because you were scared or maybe you kissed him because you were lost in the emotions you felt about him, and about yourself. There were moments when you were sad, and the next when you felt angry, rebellious, hopeless, irritated and lost.

Just run.

Just fucking run and stop thinking.

You're getting lost in your thoughts again, and he was going to catch you if you didn't stop now.

So you ran, and your heart was throbbing in your ears. Twigs snapped, birds cawed and for a second you thought you heard Jungkook.

You could hear another set of footsteps behind you, and the realisation dawned upon you. He's right behind you. You forced yourself to run even faster, ignoring the cuts that were plastered on your skin. You were running out of breath and your legs wobbled, they began to ache. You can't give up when you've come this far.

You can hear him getting closer to you. When you looked up straight ahead, there was a faint light that glowed uphill. A light! It could be a car, a home, or somebody. You bit your lip as you tried to go uphill, the pain in your feet grew as you stepped on sharp twigs and debris, desperately trying to climb up. You squinted your eyes to see a road, and your hope grew instantly.

You could leave, you could find someone and call for help, you could finally get away from him—

Jungkook's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. A scream erupted from your throat, and you thrashed in his hold.

No— you were right there, you were about to escape.

A sob broke from your lips as you kicked your legs, doing anything to get out of his hold. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, his hold on you tightening.

"Shh," his voice didn't soothe whatever you felt right now, "if you fight me back, I swear I'll make it worse for you."

The threat hung in the air, and it immediately made you stop your movements. Jungkook pushed you down to the forest floor, the wet soil coated your white dress, and this time the scratches stung even more.

"I was going to take you back, but look how far you made it. Almost made it out of here." A smirk formed on his lips as he took out the sleeping pill container.

"How does three sound?"

His words were a blur to your ears as you stared into the far distance. The light was still glowing brightly and soon a car drove by. You sobbed and your nails dug into the ground. Just a bit more time and you would've been free.

You felt the back of your head yanked up, and Jungkook's hand tugged your hair as you glared at him with furious eyes.

Jungkook whistled, smiling as he popped open the container.

"Don't look at me like that, you should have left the moment I started to count."

Your eyes fell to the water bottle next to him and that's when it hit you. Jungkook giggled at your reaction as he unscrewed the lid on the bottle.

"Came prepared because I knew my girl would get lost in these woods pretty fast, and far."

One hand gripped your jaw, and Jungkook pushed the pills inside your mouth. And he gave the bottle to you.

He wanted you to do it because he knew that you knew you lost. Your hands squeezed the bottle, and you brought it to your lips before chugging a good amount to swallow the pills.

"Did you say three?"

You asked him with a hopeless look.

"I lied," he said, watching you with a gleam on his face, "and gave you two instead because I don't want to kill you."

You wanted to laugh at that, maybe you should have just taken three. The effects soon hit you, and your eyes became sluggish, and your eyes blurred with tears. You lost your grip on the floor, and Jungkook swooped you into his arms effortlessly. His face was blurred as he was taking you back to the cabin. Just before your body shut down, right before your tears escaped and your eyes closed, Jungkook murmured to himself quietly, and a mixed feeling of hope and happiness washed over him.