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☂˚.⋆｡ 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙥𝙞𝙚𝙨

navi | taglist | part of svthub's fall-ing collab

pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader

w.c.: 5.0k

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, apple picking and pie baking and some sweet lovemaking <3

a lovers’ retreat—golden rays cast shadows over high, blushing cheekbones, flour-kissed noses and eye smiles as warm as the oven’s embrace, secrets and tender kisses shared with the starry night, and in a wooden cabin fragrant with the aroma of cinnamon and caramel, the love shared was sweeter than the finest apple pie.

☂ warnings: food/eating mentioned, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, praise, edging, some begging, some cockwarming, overstimulation (m), multiple orgasms (f), nicknames (min; baby, babe, love), some aftercare, seokmin is so fucking whipped (so is reader), there's so much love talk in this, I hate myself.

☂ A/N: nobody come for my inconsistent pie recipe, I didn't use one (also idc if you don't knead the dough, i needed it to describe seokmin's bulging muscles tyvm). other than that, this fic means a lot to me and despite struggling for the most part, I really enjoyed writing it. happy reading! :]

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Slender fingers rounded the hanging fruit, examining for imperfections with eager eyes and the tip of a tongue held between pearly whites. The crisp air contrasted the solacing warmth of the morning sun under which you basked, strolling between green leaves and bright reds with a near-empty basket dangling at your side. You wanted him to work faster, to disregard whatever negligible bumps lay on the apples’ exterior, but you opted to remain silent, simply watching him from the sidelines while he carried on with his meticulous inspections.

Seokmin was spring. Smiles that could bring a barren land to life, vivid flora and singing birds fluttering around within the glimmers decorating his irises. But spring had long since ended, now treading deeper into the cooling weather of autumn, and yet, Seokmin still offered verve to everything he touched. Even as green turned to yellow then amber, and tanned skin rested beneath thick layers of cashmere and fleece, he still wore his spring smile—a reminder that the season of life will come again. He carried warmth wherever he went, and the biting chill attempting to penetrate thick layers of clothing stood no chance while his towering figure remained by your side.

You watched him throw the fallen end of his scarf over his shoulder, a woven cream he’d worn on your first date. Hoary yarn ends peeked out along its length, and you reminisced the store tag he’d forgotten to remove while he fiddled with his fingers and laughed anxiously before you all those years ago, so young and eager to impress. You’d mused over the giggles shaking his tense shoulders, the pretty pink painting his face and ears when you failed to rip it off in a discreet manner, and though the embarrassment was debilitating in the moment, the worry weighing down on Seokmin’s shoulders faded away as you laughed. It was well into winter when you’d walked alongside the river, steaming cups of hot chocolate resting between your palms—going cold before you had the chance to sip on them, only there to fight off the bleak midwinter breeze numbing your appendages. Young and dumb, you both were, walking by the river on a chilly day, but young and dumb brought upon you years of easy smiles and hearty laughs, unconditional love and unending happiness, all sprouting from sharing arbitrary details about yourselves with that same cream scarf draped around you both.

Dark locks now dyed the colour of changing leaves, the morning rays casting their golden hue over the wavy strands and reflecting off the specs perched over his nose bridge. Seokmin was a few inches taller now, and his shoulders broader, but the smile he wore, the sparkle in his eyes as he laid them on you were no different than those from that day by the river.

Chatter at your side dragged your attention off Seokmin’s profile and onto the family walking past you—two curious children and their parents inspecting the ripe fruit hanging before them. Scripts of late-night conversations you’d had with Seokmin flooded your mind, your face flushing and butterflies swarming your lower belly at the thought of starting a family with the man. Seokmin's fascination with learning how to braid your hair, his whispered comment—’for the future’—did not go unnoticed as he brushed gentle fingers through the stands he’d tangled in his attempts, a hint of a promise in his tone. He also promised to never leave them alone with Hoshi, which you appreciated. For obvious reasons. You were still young, and had much to experience together before taking a step that significant, but part of you was ready to offer Seokmin the world. A man who’d brought nothing bliss and warmth into your life, how could you not?

Turning your head back to the man in question, your eyebrows raised as you watched him eying the passing family alongside you, and you wondered whether the same thoughts were running through his head as well. But then his attention shifted back to you, and the amiable smile while he took you in told you everything you needed to know.

The curve of his lips persisted as he reached a hand to push the stray strands blown by the chilling breeze off your face, pinching the fat of your cheeks between his pointer and thumb before dropping them back to his side. A gentle gesture, but it lit your insides on fire, blinking quickly as you processed an action so natural to him, yet one that set you ablaze. Swallowing nervously, you redirected your gaze to the three apples resting over Seokmin’s palms as he presented the flawless, shiny Honeycrisps with a proud grin.

You giggled, “those look great, Min.”

“Only the best for you,” he leaned forward to plant a kiss onto the cheek he’d just pinched.

Flustered, you watched him throw the apples into the basket you held, his fingers brushing against yours as he swiftly pulled it out of your hand and carried on walking through the orchard. You might have missed a few additions to the small pile while you pondered about a lifetime by Seokmin’s side, and yes, the basket was significantly more weighed down now that he did. But it wasn’t that heavy.

You skipped a few steps to catch up with him, your bottom lip jutting out in protest. “Min. I can carry it myself.”

“Mm, I know,” he hummed, eyes trained on the novel batch of apples swinging gently at his eye level. “Don’t want you to, though.”

You pushed away the fondness warming your chest, capturing his coat’s sleeve between two fingers as you sulked at his side, his attention still set on those damn apples. He moved the basket to his other hand absentmindedly, allowing you more space to come closer to his side, his free arm wrapping around your waist, and head twisting to look over your moping features with tender adoration gracing his own. Leaning down, he pressed soft lips to your forehead, their warmth seeping into your skin and fluttering your eyelids shut.

Placing another one at your temple, playfulness mingled in his tone as he spoke, “Stop complaining, you’re not getting it back.”

And this time, all you could do was laugh.

The hours hurried by while Seokmin’s endless chatter kept you company, and perhaps you wish it hadn’t, wanting to treasure each passing second you shared in the presence of the man with the unwavering smile. You walked between the endless trees with leisure steps, the fingers entangled with yours occasionally dragging you with them to inspect the gradient of red and green. Some apples made the cut, thrown into the pile of spotless fruit he’d gathered over the past few hours, while others remained swaying with the gentle breeze, bruised exterior reflecting the golden rays.

A particular shade of green caught Seokmin’s eye, leaving your hand behind at your side to wrap slender fingers around the glossy circumference, rotating it gently to inspect it, going as far as leaning forward to get a closer look. Nodding to himself, he snapped its stem off and placed the weighted basket down, wrapping the apple in his cream scarf to give it a good wipe. You felt yourself salivate at the satisfying crunch sounding as Seokmin’s teeth breached the unblemished skin, and you watched the pucker of his lips as he chewed with wide, expecting eyes. A breathy chuckle contained within tightly pursed lips echoed in the back of his throat upon viewing the anticipation etched into your expression, and he moved the unbitten side towards your already-parted lips. Too focused on the apple nearing your waiting mouth, you’d missed the sly smile, the giggle he’d nearly failed at suppressing, and bit into the polished green.

A stream of its juice slipped past to flow down your chin, bitterness overwhelming your tastebuds and forcing your eyes firmly shut. A shiver ran down your spine as you struggled to chew on the unripe fruit, tears prickling in your eyes as you willed them open to glare at the man before you, hints of guilt mixed in with amusement on his face. Underneath all the kind smiles and caring gestures, Seokmin loved being an asshole.

He’d watched you persist and push through finishing the bite, too many people around now to spit it out. He even leaned forward to kiss away the tangy juice cooling over your skin, scrunching his nose at the sourness he’d willingly stolen another taste of. At least he was aware enough to take a step back once you’d swallowed the unpleasant bite down, what you thought was fear flashing across his features.

“Hey,” he put his hand up in defence before you could speak, “we share everything, right?” He took another step backward while giggling anxiously, and he nearly tripped over the apple-full basket he had resting over the soft grass. “Why should I make an exception for fruit?”

“Bad fruit,” you corrected, an eyebrow raised.

“Babe,” he started, but didn’t know how to continue, perhaps hoping the sparkling brown of his irises would do the trick.

And it almost did, you admit. But the bitterness lingered over your tongue, and Seokmin found himself scurrying away and out of the fire zone of the incoming apples you’d launched at him, laughing while you entertained the couples and children harvesting their own fruit with your lively act of revenge.

--

You smoothed your hands down the fresh set of clothes you’d thrown on, the fleece warm against your skin. The ligneous scent of your rented cabin added to its coziness, gentle winds blowing against closed windows and floorboards creaking with every socked footstep guiding you to the small kitchen.

Said footsteps quickened upon spotting bright green reflecting off the sharp metal of the very large knife in Seokmin’s hand, eyebrows furrowed as he focused on dividing the apple into even crescents. The hurried shuffling drew his attention, twisting his head just as you reached for the sharp tool, gently untangling his fingers off its handle to set it down over the cutting board alongside the botched fruit.

“Baby?” Tilting his head to the side, he stared at you in confusion.

You held both his hands in yours, flat over your palms as you inspected the tanned skin. Running your thumbs over polished nailbeds, you followed the protruding veins lining his slender fingers, all the way down each knuckle until you’d made sure he was unharmed. You enclosed his fingers within your palm, bringing them up to press your lips against, finding his pointer to plant an especially tender kiss over the scar stretching across its side.

“I was being careful,” he spoke through a melodramatic pout.

You smiled. “I know you were, Min. But let me handle the chopping this time, okay?”

Averting his eyes to the side, pretending to focus on the yellowing trees past the windowpane, Seokmin nodded, his hands limp in your hold. You lowered them to his side to cradle his jaw, tilting his head down to meet your eyes once again and staring him down in hopes of breaking his composure, but Seokmin’s pout persisted. And so the kisses began, soft and delicate over his cheekbones, forcing his eyes shut as you trailed your lips over the trembling skin. Leaning your head back, you watched his evident struggle against a betraying smile, finally curling the corners of his mouth when you’d dragged his head down with a forceful kiss to his cheek, the skin stretching under your lips while you kept them pressed there for a few more seconds. You moved away with an audible smack, Seokmin’s pout nowhere to be seen as he stared down at you with an uncontainable smile.

“Why don’t you make the dough instead?”

You picked up where Seokmin left off—half an apple chopped sloppily, which you ended up munching on while you worked—going through the washed apples to pick out the greenest, cutting them into even pieces and throwing them in a bowl of cinnamon and sugar. You remembered the nutmeg later on, after the frustrated noise at your side caught your attention, confusion raising your eyebrow when you’d noticed the powdery dough Seokmin was working with. He’d forgotten the eggs.  The embarrassment on his face was adorable, rose-tinted cheeks and restrained smile while watching you crack an egg into the crumbly mess he’d been working on for a shameful amount of time. A quick kiss to his jaw and a whispered ‘it’s okay, Min’ seemed to do the trick, though.

Tossing the last of the apples into the seasoning bowl, you sprinkled nutmeg over the shimmering crescents before grabbing a clean spoon from the dishrack, the spices’ aroma wafting in the air around you as you mixed them in with the fruit. Glancing over at Seokmin, you realised he’d begun kneading the dough, flour dusted over the marble counter as he rolled the raw crust in on itself, and as you took in the hard muscle bulging against the sleeve of his t-shirt, your fingers unconsciously loosened around the spoon you held. Your eyes wandered over flexing biceps and defined, broad shoulders, veins protruding from tan skin as he worked the dough under his palm. Bottom lip tucked between a set of pearly whites, his eyebrows furrowed occasionally while the ball gradually smoothened in his hands, growing less crumbly and eventually forming a near-perfect sphere.

Absentmindedly tumbling the apples with a limp grip around the spoon, you followed Seokmin’s movements, lower belly fluttering with every faint, airy grunt sounding in the back of his throat as he worked the dough.  Your thoughts strayed as you eyed the distracting flex of his muscles—the smile he wore, so sweet and tender, contrasted broad shoulders and the strength to manhandle you without much thought. You were almost certain Seokmin had no awareness of the fact, going about what he was doing without much regard to the blushing mess he’d left behind, the butterflies violently thrashing around within your stomach. The sparkling orbs with which he gazed at you, with charming innocence, oblivious to the effect he had on you. Perhaps that was for the best; you weren’t sure you’d want to find out what would become of him should he learn of the hidden power he’d been holding this entire time.

Sudden eye contact dragged you out of your daydreams when the man before you turned in your direction, the smooth doughball resting over his palm, and a proud smile on his lips. You held back the one threatening to break out on yours when you’d spotted the white dusting the pointy tip of his nose, some lightly powdering his cheeks as well. Instead, your chest warmed at his wordless flaunting as he slowly moved the undented dough towards you, sparkling eyes fishing for praise. And sure, you basically made the dough for him, and yes, all he did was mix the ingredients together with firm, hard-earned muscle, but the slight falter in his smile the longer you remained silent was enough to sway you.

“It looks great, Min!” You stepped closer, inspecting the roundness with wide eyes for a few seconds before straightening up to meet his eyes, “I’m proud of you, my love.”

Though a simple gesture, Seokmin’s face lit up, all but hurling the dough onto the counter to pull you into his arms, grinning into your shoulder while he squeezed your laughing frame closer to his chest. His arms still around you, he pulled away slightly, stars dancing in his eyes as he gazed at you gleefully, smiling against your lips as you got onto your tiptoes to kiss him lightly. But that didn’t satisfy Seokmin, his arm wrapping across your back to pull you back into him, locking his lips with yours once again, this time with hunger and hints of desire laced into the action. He kissed you once, twice, until he’d had a taste and realized he’d never have enough, needing sweetness and plush lips to forever bless his senses. While you held on to his biceps for balance, Seokmin was everywhere—hands up your back, over your arms and waist, and suddenly he was kissing you harder, deeper, tongue swiping across your bottom lip and teeth digging into it with a fervent want that sent waves of heat soaring through your body.

Pulling away for air, your chests heaved in unison, flush against one another as Seokmin peered down at you with hooded eyes, a spark of lust igniting the dark irises. And suddenly you were back in the present, the forgotten apples browning in their bowl, and the dough witnessing the heated exchange from its place on the counter.

“T-the pie!” you quickly diverted, pushing Seokmin away to shift your focus back to the task at hand, but you could feel his eyes boring into the back of your skull. “Can you preheat the oven please?”

An amused laugh sounded behind you at the shakiness of your voice, “yes, boss.” Just as you were about to sigh in relief, you heard him take a step towards you, his chest bumping into your shoulder and a gentle whisper blowing against the shell of your ear. “You have flour all over your face, by the way.”

And your pants, you thought, as his palm landed a playful slap onto your ass before he made his way to the other side of the kitchen.

The heat coursing through you dwindled as you fixated on the unfinished pie, save for those resulting from the not-so-hidden glances you’d stolen of Seokmin’s defined biceps as he moved the rolling pin over the dough. It was smooth sailing after that, though, missing the heart eyes directed at you as you spooned the filling into the rolled-out crust, perfectly fitted into the baking mould. You attempted to control your expressions as Seokmin tried and failed to cut straight lines out of the leftover dough, begrudgingly allowing him to place the uneven lattice in a questionable pattern, the chipper smile stretching his lips while he worked more than enough to excuse an ugly pie.

Carrying the raw pie over his head like Simba, Seokmin made his way to the oven. You held the door open for him, eyes following the baking mould as he transferred it onto the rack, gasping when his finger met the scorching metal. He placed the pie down and pretended nothing happened, ignoring the forming mark on his knuckle as he swung the oven door shut. And despite the whining and attempts of reassurance, you dragged Seokmin to the sink and ran cold water over his hand, once again kissing his pout away while you stood with barely any space separating your bodies.

His free hand slid across the small of your back, his other leaving its place under the running water to shut it off, wiping the droplets over his sweats before holding onto your hip. Leaning down, he met your lips once more, then again, until short pecks deepened, and a sharp nose nuzzled into the side of yours as he pulled you further into his body.

You pulled away with a gasp, startling Seokmin away from your lips, “the sweet potatoes!”

The initial shock replaced by softening eyes and a breathy laugh, Seokmin squeezed your waist once before releasing you. He stood to the side while you wrapped foil around the sangria exterior, offering to put them in the oven for you, but backing down at the disapproving glare you threw at him. Perhaps Seokmin had unintentionally caused a case of Pavlovian conditioning, one you remained unaware of, because the very second his bottom lip jutted out, yours were pressing consoling kisses over its plushness. Sometimes it took a few tries, but that’s only because you enjoyed watching the man—broad shoulders and all—sulk and whine when he didn’t get his way, only to lighten up and grin once your lips met his. It’s unclear who the winner was in this game, both parties working with a motive and ending with a satisfying result. Peculiar, really.

You settled down on the creaky floorboards across from the oven, your back to Seokmin’s chest and his thighs on either side of yours. His arms rested comfortably around your waist, hands limp at your hips, occasionally squeezing at the clothed flesh. Watching the pie crust brown through the glass, you basked in the cosy aroma circulating the cabin, the heat emanating from Seokmin’s body gentler and more comforting than that caramelising the sugar drizzled over the wonky lattice. Delicate fingers smoothed down your hair, and a silky voice lulled you to a tranquil state of comfort, strong arms holding you within the aura of warmth until a sharp click sounded, with the nostalgic scent of cinnamon and caramel to guide you out of slumber’s enticing grip, and back to toothy smiles and a cordial embrace.

--

The night’s breeze was crisp against slick skin, the warmth encased within the confines of the thick blankets now infiltrated through a window forgotten open. Seokmin noticed the raised goosebumps over your arms, and lowered his body until your chests laid flush, his forearms on either side of your head keeping his weight off your form.

“Cold?” he asked, lips pressing against your jaw and up to your cheekbone, over the frosty tip of your nose.

You shook your head, “not anymore,” and wrapped your arms around the soft skin of his waist.

Seokmin smiled, gentle features illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the cracked-open blinds—a cool-toned hue casting shadows over his face, moving as he pressed his pelvis closer to yours with an exhaled moan. Moving his weight over to one arm, he slid the other down to your core, splaying his palm out over your lower belly to thumb at your clit.

He’d been teasing you for so long—his cock filling you up the way you wanted, but only barely teasing your g-spot, refusing to move despite your repetitive whines; instead, he occasionally reached two slender fingers between your legs to relieve some of the arousal burning underneath your skin. This time, though, you’d reached your limit, clenching around him as a sudden high rushed through you, shaking your body within his hold.

Despite a day’s worth of lingering touches and heated kisses, a hand placed a little too low on your back, and eyes lit with unconcealed glints of want, the patience Seokmin exhibited as he guided you through your orgasm was not surprising. He’d always enjoyed giving—curling his fingers just right to take in the elegant arch of your back, your sweet taste on his tongue while he nuzzled his nose into your soaked pussy. But most of all, Seokmin savoured the tight squeeze around his cock as he fucked you through an orgasm, his breath heavy and eyes lidded with the pleasure your walls lavished upon him.

Slowly fading back into the present, you peered up at the man atop you, the column of his throat stretched as he took in the violent fluttering of your walls. But you wanted more, pent up and restless with his scent, his warm touch, occupying your every sense. And he still won’t move.

You rolled your hips experimentally, a startled hand rushing to stop you, fingers digging into the flesh to stifle the motion. “Please,” you whined, “Min, please move.”

Groaning at your tone, cock throbbing between your walls, “oh baby,” he breathed out, bumping his forehead with yours and allowing his eyelids to fall shut. “I’ve been thinking about having you like this all day. I wanna last for you, my love, ‘wanna make you feel so good.”

Arousal boiled in your lower belly, eyelashes fluttering and a shaky breath escaping your parted lips at the words whispered in the air between you. “Min-”

“Let me be good for you.”

A kiss to your temple and a few inhales were all it took Seokmin to regain his composure, his forehead still pressed to yours as he tugged you closer by the hips, languidly rolling his own into your heat. The leisure glide wasn’t much, but it sent a shiver through your body. It was as though Seokmin could read the wordless pleads sparkling in your eyes, pulling his face away just enough to adjust the angle before settling back down onto your body. Fingers tangled in your hair to keep your eyes on his, blinking in unison while you breathed the same air, gentle waves of pleasure drawing breathy moans out of the both of you, his cockhead brushing against your sweet spot every time he drove it inside your cunt.

Sliding a hand over his sweat-coated nape, you dragged Seokmin down to your lips, the sweetness of a pie forgotten outside enriching your tastebuds, the single remaining piece left over the picnic blanket alongside crumbled foil—the unintentionally discarded dessert serving as breakfast for the blackbirds to nip at when the morning came.

The hand lost in your hair found its way to your jaw, cradling your face while he devoured you, the kiss growing deeper the farther Seokmin sunk down the blazing pit of lust growing within him. His cock twitched erratically within you, pace picking up until the echo of skin-on-skin danced between the four walls, hips slamming against yours with fervour as his eagerness finally won over him. Unable to focus on anything but the mind-numbing heaviness of his cock pounding into you, your lips parted to release a staccato of ah’s, his own relentless as they peppered wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your face.

“God, you’re perfect,” he grabbed your cheeks with the hand previously on your jaw, squishing them together to lay his lips onto the forced pout on yours, “all mine.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the repetitive abuse to your cunt, squelching obscenely every time Seokmin fucked his entire length inside. “All—hngh—all yours,” you repeated, exhaling a breath you’d been holding when sudden warmth spread through your abdomen.

“I—hah—‘m sorry,” he stuttered as his rhythm turned sloppy, shuddering when he finally came. Sheathing himself deep withing your heat, he fed ropes of translucent white into your womb while attempting to keep his eyes on you, long eyelashes fluttering while ecstasy flowed through his body.  “Felt so good, I couldn’t…” he paused to lower his head, interrupted by a string of airy moans as the last, weak spurts of cum emptied out of his twitching cock. “I couldn’t help it,” he muttered.

The reassurance died on your tongue when the sensitive cock drew out halfway, only to slam back into you as though the arms bracketing your head didn’t continue to tremble with the continuing effects of his orgasm. Lifting his head back up to meet your gaze, he lowered his hand back down to play with your cunt, dipping down to feel around your stretched hole and back up to circle your clit with the slick he’d collected, a silent promise of “I’ll be good” glimmering in his lidded eyes while he watched you fall apart under his touch.

And he was, so good.

You tumbled over the edge unexpectedly, cockhead pounding into your cunt while he rolled your clit underneath his fingertips until your features contorted gracefully, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids as you shut them and tilted your head back to welcome a stupefying orgasm. You tensed for a moment, then began spasming uncontrollably in his arms, hips simultaneously jerking towards and away from his touch as he guided you through your high, languidly gliding his cock along your dripping, clenching walls, both hands now gripping the soft flesh of your hips.

And when the stimulation sent pangs of pain up your body, a whispered repetition of his name paired with limp tugs at his wrist finally broke Seokmin away from you and the bewitching melody he drew out of the perfect circle shaping your mouth. He slid his softening cock out of your heat to allow thick dollops of pearly cum to stream out of your pussy, watching as your hole clenched uselessly until your abashed whine dragged him out of his thoughts.

You found yourself tucked in under layers of thick blankets while running water sounded in the bathroom, bare feet padding over the floorboards until Seokmin—with his boxers on backwards—reached under the covers to blindly drag a warm washcloth over your skin, hoping it would catch all the sweat and cum without having to expose you to the chill air. You drew your lips into a straight line to avoid laughing at the concentration furrowing his eyebrows, cheeks flushing as he washed your middle. Any other day, Seokmin would make a big deal of cleaning you up properly, but you could see the hair on his arms raising, the autumn night’s chill piercing through his skin.

He didn’t even bother with returning the rag to its place, tossing it over his shoulder to dive under the cosy blankets with you, limbs tangling as soon as he made it there—arms circling your tired frame and legs pushing between and over yours. The momentary frigidity dissipating, his body heat seeped into your very being, and you inhaled the fresh scent of laundry mixed in with remaining hints of his cologne. Nuzzling the pointy tip of his nose into your hair, he planted a kiss onto your crown, the gesture faint as his steady heartbeat lulled you to much-needed slumber, the serene trip to dreamland occupied with solacing thoughts about a forever home within Seokmin’s tender embrace.

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Maybe I’m a little Dangerous (Maybe Love is Too)

(MafiaBoss! Yoongi x Reader)(Soulmate Au)

Summary: Rare soulmate marks don’t guarantee that you find your soulmate easily, and when your soulmate is the head of a mafia, being together will never be easy either…

Tags: Torture, Gore, Mafia! Yoongi, killer! Yoongi hurt/comfort, fluff, insecure! reader, self-hate, soulmate AU, fluff, coffee shop au! happy ending, 

Wordcount: 4.3k

Authors note: god this took me way too long to write, and I have a feeling that people will like this one less as well because its so long D: but I didn’t want to sit on this for any longer! hope you like it!

People have soulmate tattoo’s for different reasons

Some have flowers that bloom according to their other halves emotions

 Some have abstract maps or their soul mates favorite things (like piano keys or artists splashes of color.

Some soulmarks change and others don’t, some get colored when the other person starts to love you or get larger the closer you get to your soulmate.

There are rare types of soulmate marks though.

You don’t have your mark yet, and you wonder if you’ll have flowers or maybe moon phases on your legs like some other people do.

You’re so excited- but then you get yours…

You wake up one morning and raise your hands to brush the sleep out of your eyes to find your hands black and pattered with crisscrossing geometric lines and harsh diamonds of black over your knuckles.

 Every inch of your hands from your wrists onwards is patterned in harsh black lines almost like a pair of gloves.

And it never changes. Never gets an ounce of color. Never shifts to a different pattern.

And so you go to forums to try and figure out what your soulmate mark means because you’ve never met anyone with a mark like yours. 

And that’s when you learn that there is a very rare type of soulmark, usually only one color, where one half gets a mark on their body in the location that the others hates the most on their own body.

So from what you gather- your soulmate hates their hands.

And your heart sinks because you will never be able to explain it to them when you meet them.

Because you hate every inch of yourself.

Keep reading

my guardian demon sucks at his job (not clickbait)

❝ look, i accidentally summoned jeonghan from my statistics textbook the day before you met him at the olive garden. ❞

PAIRING ▸ demon!yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, angst, supernatural, demon au

WARNINGS ▸ not so biblically accurate, profanity, slowburn, found family, inspirations from mythology and h. p. lovecraft, lots of banter, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, oral (fem. receiving), fingering, palming, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), mc is painfully horny, ft. demon!shua and demon!wonwoo 

SUMMARY ▸ just when you thought your luck couldn’t get any worse, you accidentally manage to summon an ancient demon prince named jeonghan out of a scrap of paper from your statistics textbook. now, you’re tasked with figuring out how to return your so-called “guardian demon” back to where he came from before he can stir up more trouble.

PLAYLIST ▸ our dawn is hotter than day by seventeen • cruel summer by taylor swift

WORD COUNT ▸ 23,610 words

TAG LIST ▸ @byunfirstlady​ @90s-belladonna​ @knucklesdeepmingi​ @xlovette​ @variety-is-the-joy-of-life​ @hatesbutlovespeople7734​ @goquokka​

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i had so much fun writing this so i hope you guys enjoy this one!! thank you so much for supporting my works ♡ lmk what u think!

TO BE FAIR, YOU REALLY DIDN’T EXPECT THE SPELL TO WORK.

You initially thought the scrap of paper you found in your statistics textbook was someone’s torn-up Latin homework. You borrowed the copy from the library earlier in the day, realizing that the only way you would pass your midterm would be if you actually studied. Wedged between the pages of Chapter Three - Linear Regression was the dubious piece of paper.  

You thought nothing of it at first. You turned a blind eye to how it was yellowed due to age, thinking it was just left behind by accident. It didn’t even cross your mind about how strange it was that someone left their Latin homework in a statistics textbook.

There was no real reason why you read the words aloud. You thought it could act as some sort of good luck charm—something that could manifest good grades on your exams—but you ended up with the exact opposite.

The paper started glowing, but it wasn’t bright light; a void of pitch darkness emitted from the scrap instead. Mind you, it was nearly the middle of the night. It was already dark, but your room was starting to look like you had opened up a schism in space.

You dropped the paper in the middle of the room instinctively, hissing lightly at how it nearly froze your fingers off. Your room’s temperature dropped by several degrees, and if you weren’t internally freaking out about the random black hole in the middle of your room, you would have curled up in your blankets.

This was one hell of a karmic retribution for slacking on your work for half the semester.

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checkmates

synopsis : cold. apathetic. indifferent. arrogant. self-satisfied. those were the words the court used to employ when they were referring to you. l/n y/n, duchess of the hasting estate. you were well known in the whole kingdom for your cleverness at chess, not to mention your dancing skills and precision at archery. you also had a strong reputation because of your lack of conversation or interest in anyone or anything apart from books. and if it seemed like the ton got used to your attitude, yoon jeonghan didn’t look fazed in the slightest.

genre : regency!au, viscount!jeonghan x duchess!reader, your family name is hasling and joshua is your cousin but none physical description, fluff, angst (slightly), childhood friends to strangers to lovers, just jeonghan being a menace

word count : 1,8 k

mini-series masterlist

a/n : if this fic seems familiar to you, it’s normal i actually posted it a while ago but decided to rewrite it. i hope you will enjoy!

cold. apathetic. indifferent. arrogant. self-satisfied.

those were the words the court used to employ when they were referring to you. l/n y/n, duchess of the hasting estate. you were well known in the whole kingdom for your cleverness at chess, not to mention your dancing skills and precision at archery. you also had a strong reputation because of your lack of conversation or interest in anyone or anything apart from books. but, because you were a duchess and the heir of a huge fortune, your parents still received ton of marriage proposals which you all declined with a sweep of the hand. you didn’t care about the opinion the court could have about you or about all the gossips whispered mentioning you and, since you still had the queen’s grace, you never bothered to try changing your name by acting friendlier.

with time, the ton became used to you behaviour and gossips slowly faded, outrage moving on to custom and the rare people who’d still get upset at you cold manner were new people around the court. well, at least almost everyone was used to it. there was still one exception who wasn’t fazed in the slightest by your notorious nickname by now as the duchess of the ice’s estate : jeonghan, viscount of the yoon’s estate. he was a close friend to your cousin, hong jisoo, and, during your early years, a close friend of yours too. the three of you used to hang out a lot during your childhood and, you had to admit it, were almost inseparable.

things abruptly took a u-turn when you were kingly told that girls couldn’t become knights and had, instead, to drink tea and gossip all day. even you couldn’t convince your father to skip your classes during which you learnt how to fake smile and that you needed to find a rich and high ranked husband because, as a woman, your title as a duchess wasn’t fully yours and you’ll have to share it with your carefully chosen husband.

if you had managed to keep good relationships with your cousin, you couldn’t say the same for jeonghan. the young man became, for lack of better words, the cause of all your irritation. always planning on making pranks on you during dinners, trying to show how great he was during chess games or how better of a dancer he was. you started to hate his deceitful smile, which used to be the source of your laugh, and his insufferable habit of cheating at each and every game. nevertheless, you couldn’t ignore his cleverness and sharpness which were far above from the gentlemen’s ones among the court. but also, you couldn’t help but wonder how thing would have been if you had stayed by each other’s side.

today was your twenty-fifth birthday, which meant, to the court and its members, that it was your last year as a marriage material and, as an only child, your parents couldn’t afford themselves to lose the title their ancestors worked so hardly to gain. that’s how you found yourself in the hall of the earl lee’s ballroom, all eyes on you. for the first ball of the season, you were supposed to open the reception with a solo with your pianoforte and share all the dances with a different gentleman. hopefully, you asked your cousin to minimise your pain by reserving your first dance and planned to flee to the impressive library the earl owned. this last consideration made you think that if you really didn’t have any other emergency exit from marriage, proposing lee seokmin was a great idea.

well, this was your original plan.

everything went as you planned, as always, until you closed the oak doors. when you did a u-turn, already going to the history section, you heard a mischievous voice asking:

"well well well, who do we have here? isn’t it the lovely duchess y/n?"

after unintentionally starting, you sighted deeply, recognising your interlocutor by his voice before seeing his face: the viscount yoon jeonghan in person. when your eyes met, you couldn’t prevent yourself from holding your breath. even you couldn’t deny that he was unquestionably the prettiest man out of all the gentlemen gathered tonight. his hair was prettily styled and his doe eyes where a spark of craziness was shining were watching you intensely. he was wearing a beautiful brown suit and, at his chest was hooked a brooch made in pure gold representing the wings of an angel and a lyre at its centre.

were you still able to recognise the boy you used to play with during your childhood, with whom you always came up with new plans to tease jisoo? you weren’t so sure anymore.

"nobody told you it was rude to stare?" he asked maliciously.

you rolled you eyes in annoyance but couldn’t stop your cheeks from burning with shame after being caught so easily. pointing nonchalantly at the chess board neatly placed on the marble table, he suggested:

"would you like to play with me? you’re the only opponent that i hold in high esteem here."

sweeping his compliment -which brought you more joy than you wished- away with a wave of your hand, you retorted coldly :

"i will pass, i hate playing with people who go against the rules."

raising his hands to his heart, he replied falsely affected:

"your grace, are you, by any chance, implying that i am a cheater?"

"i’m not implying anything because this is who you are, you countered irritated, you cheat all the time but since you’re so lovely, people always turn a blind eye to your behaviour."

"you think i’m lovely?"

you held yourself back from screaming out of frustration and started to leave. you won’t stay in the library tonight, fine, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t escape yourself from the ball at all. you hated modifications in your plans but you were able to adapt quickly. the gardens were as beautiful as this room, you could probably flee to the observatory if you asked a maid. you were already holding the handle when you felt jeonghan’s hand on your wrist. you turned your head toward his, your eyes filled with surprise and embarrassment, like a deer caught by hunters. two young peoples who weren’t engaged couldn’t do things like this. besides, if anybody entered here, you knew that neither your high position in the queen’s court nor your parents’ influence would save you from any scandal. you removed your hand abruptly, visibly distressed, and were even more startled when jeonghan bowed and murmured:

"i’m sorry if my manners disturbed you in any way, your grace, i should have been more thoughtful."

the ton of his voice, sincerely sorry, left you speechless. you never saw anyone showing you its vulnerability since a very long time, it was something people liked to hide in order to avoid being the centre of future gossips. yet, jeonghan did it without any hesitation.

it reminded you of the only time you had allowed yourself to cry in front of jeonghan. you had been seven at that time and had been used to get scold if you showed any sign of weakness. but the moment your knees had been skinned after a fall, you hadn’t been able to hold your tears.

"it’s okay y/n, jisoo is looking for a maid, we will heal you," jeonghan had told you softly.

with a single nod, you had pleaded :

"please jeonghan don’t tell my mother that i cried, please."

"why would i? the young boy had asked, plus it’s not like crying is a bad thing, is it? my mom says it can be really relaxing to do so when you bottle up too much pressure."

"are you sure?" you had asked dubiously.

"of course i am. so don’t worry anymore and cry as much as you need."

a wave of nostalgia overwhelmed you and, after getting your composure back, you answered with a pensive tone :

"well, i don’t think prison would be sufficient for your prejudicial act. however, a simple chess game should be enough, what do you think?"

a smile lighted his face up as he agreed, his smirk matching yours. moving back one of the two chairs surrounding the board, he indicated it to you and invited you gallantly:

"after you, your grace."

you couldn’t suppress a smile and complied graciously. the young man imitated you across the table and declared dramatically:

"for your information, this game holds a decisive influence on my future."

"really? how so?" you teased.

"well… it will determined if i am able to propose to you."

"if you are able to what?" you choked on your breath.

"what? my grace, are you, by any chance, feeling intimidated? he playfully asked, raising his eyebrow, don’t frown so much, why are you so concerned? remember, you’re the greatest chess player in the whole country, hence you deserve someone on top of your game. i swear i won’t cheat."

after an hour and a half and sixty moves, you sighed deeply as jeonghan announced proudly:

"and this, is a checkmate."

you buried your head between your hands at his words, groaning with annoyance. you had to admit your complete defeat: each and every strategy you had carefully put in place had been all swept away by jeonghan and his tactics. and yes, he didn’t cheat.

you both stood up and you had almost forgot the stake of your game when jeonghan kneeled before you, a jewellery box in his hands.

"well, i guess it means i can ask to become your love-mate."

rolling your eyes mischievously at his play on word, you sighed while suppressing a smile on your lips :

"i guess it would be a shame if i acted like a poor loser, wouldn’t it?"

while putting the ring in your fingers, jeonghan confessed:

"i loved you since the first day we met twenty years ago, i fell in love with the girl who entered into my heart like a storm. i fell in love with the girl i met twenty years ago who wasn’t afraid of showing how she truly felt. i fell in love with the girl i had the chance to admire in the queen’s throne room when you entered into the court. i fell in love with the girl who beat all the gentlemen at chess during viscount choi’s ball ten years ago after she had been introduced to the court. y/n, you truly are the cleverest and most breathtaking girl i ever met."

"i- i never knew you were such a poet," you murmured slightly taken aback.

"i can be so many thing, duchess, a poet, a viscount and, sometimes i must confess, a cheater," he retorted with a wink.

you wanted to protest at his final comment but was cut off by his lips softly pressed against yours.

it seemed after all that you may have another interest in your life apart from books from now on. but losing your title as the duchess of the ice’s estate didn’t sound like such a hassle.

taglist : @junhour @lixiel0ver @belladaises @ahuiahoe

@/som1ig 2023 | all rights reserved | do not plagiarise

worst neighbor ever (or is he?) !

synopsis ; you’re convinced yoon jeonghan is the worst neighbor you’ve ever had…until a couple drinks help you realize he isn’t.

pairing ; yoon jeonghan + fem!reader featuring yunjin from lesserafim

notes ; non idol au, frenemies to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff, harmless and cute arguing, sort of very suggestive towards the end, reader is in denial, reader gets really drunk, jeonghan makes like two sex jokes because he’s a little shit, small mentions of eating. idk if this is a weird concept but whatever. anyways this is my first svt fic lets goo (and first fic of 2023 yay happy new years guys)

word count ; 2.6k

You have never seen Yoon Jeonghan’s face, yet you know him well enough to consider him the worst neighbor you’ve ever had.

Does seeing his face really matter to you, though? He’s the worst, and that’s all you need to know.

“You’re not listening to me, Yoon Jeonghan!”

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enchanted

P R O L O G U E 

“I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you.”

summary: The realm under King Min’s rule had been under war for over. thirty years, a war within the inhuman species with origins no one knows. Your presence was brought into awareness when found by the king under the rubble of your home. You are plunged into a world you had only ever seen from the outside, and don’t know how long you can last.

genre: soulmate au, fantasy au, dragon au, 

pairing: Dragon King Yoongi x Human MC

status: ?

warnings: starts in the middle of war, violence, angst, death, supernatural creatures, more to come.

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The river was freezing when you got up that morning, basket of cloths in hand to wash. It had been your chore for a couple of weeks now, ever since Mela’s body was found at the bottom of the hill. She had been working with you at the manor for a couple of years now, another “stray” taken in by Lord Ahn and his family. She also wasn’t the first to be found, others found at the same dip in the bottom of the hill.

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