When had the boy in the coffee shop become so significant, that gentle dreamer fulfilling the role of a barista in the reality which hides - or endeavours to do so in any case - the identity of a White Rabbit?

Maybe the moment eyes first met those akin to a doe's in the colour of basalt above an adorable round nose, sniffling due to the last cold breaths of winter not being able to remain outside, on a day that everything went short of awful. A bus missed by a hair's breadth, tripping over two clumsy feet in the crowded station in plain sight of the public because the melted snow created a slip-n-slide out of the dull grey tiles, a second cup of bitter cheap coffee due to the need to stay awake after being annihilated with too much academic literary information in the early morn.

That careful smile, slightly revealing two front teeth resembling a bunny's, accompanying a kind voice contrasting with the haunted anxious look in the stare that clearly forced itself to stay put despite the absolutely ticked off and knackered person on the other end of the counter. Nevertheless, composure softened at seeing the apparent scariness of the situation at the thought that whatever happened, it was all nothing Jungkook - so the quickly glanced at name-card attached to the crisp white work shirt remarked - could possibly have done something about. Henceforth, to the best ability allowed, the tiredness caused by too many mishaps at once was repressed and an order placed for a cappuccino, the sole beverage which somehow always brings comfort to the Soul when it feels lost in tyrannous Truth.

Maybe it was the split second all fear melted away, the hint of delight mixed with relief overtaking attitude and lighting up the lad's nervous expression, when the hot drink was served and the dreamer basically rushed back to the tanned colleague standing behind the coffee machine preparing an order for another customer. A good friend who merely gave a look that held the middle between incomprehension and indifference with a flair of I-do-not-know-either-he-is-simply-like-this in return when silent questions flew in their direction.

Whenever the moment wherein the deeper meaning to the barista originated truly was, the ache of longing in loneliness at two in the morning has never gotten easier. Quite to the contrary, the atmosphere has only grown more perverse during nights like these, gazing outside through the crack of pale grey curtains to the vague bright light illuminating the regardlessly shrouded in the dusk street to measure the time in the empty two-person bed. On every occasion it happens, there are multiple attempts at trying not to give into futile sensual fancies but fall into slumber as Common Sense would have it.

To not entertain one of the phantoms of touches which will never be felt since there likely is already another fortunate girl in the rabbit hole.

To simply not think of him.

Jungkook.

But whereas the Conscious pulls every thought away from alternative flames reflecting another universe on its walls, the Body desperately deprived of the affection it craves, adds fuel to the fire by falling for the temptation of the existence that is conjured over and over.

Fingers are always the first to fall for the initial imaginary version of the bunny boy, reaching out to it. Sometimes it is because of the softness quite like the gentle way in which the cappuccino is prepared every time, the darling raven-haired boy paying close attention to make certain every detail is perfect and emanating the aura of having an odd though special bond with the beverage.

With a wee Cheshire Cat, a cowardly girl hiding behind a grey and turquoise feline mask that gives the confidence to converse in a society loathing social outcasts and is friends with the marvellous author named The White Rabbit.

With him, as a clumsy unrepairable slip of the tongue betrayed to great joy in a fluttering heart.

Yet it still means nothing since there is likely nothing beyond friendship even if the other party someday comes to realize what they essentially mean, probably maintaining the bond despite unanswered sentiments out of genuine goodness.

So although there is tenderness in the lad, tonight it is the other end of the spectrum, the sweetness showed to one specific coffee - as Fantasy would undeniably have it - actually devoted to the lass who orders it each time because it is part of an indescribable safe haven.

Notwithstanding, even security has rough edges.

Yet only one pair of eyes see them.

From the shadows of the snow white front door of the studio called "home" steps the slender tall figure of a boy turned into a man, not needing to be made feeling special nor protected for that is the duty of the confident phantom towards his lover. Similar to the passions which surface both in Spirit and Reality at seeing the image of the gentler version, even the arrogant menace radiating from the non-existent ghost does not give off a sign of losing affection to any degree.

However, contradictory to the real Jungkook, this persona has come to reclaim it from a cat who exchanged a look with Taehyung, the tanned - and, in all honesty, pretty handsome - barista was also met during the first visit to The Bookworm and who introduced himself today when the raven-haired colleague had to retrieve new coffee beans from the pantry. What followed was small talk eventually ending up on the topic of the ignorant dreamer's behaviour that cannot be comprehended whatsoever. Neither party had a straight answer though the hazelnut latte-haired man's cheeky grin before the innocent devil of whom had been spoken returned hinted at hidden knowledge.

Basalt doe eyes gleam with jealousy, stirring up a whirlpool of delighted awe within for it shows genuine care for an individual who can solely be claimed by one man. The kind voice broken up with adorable stuttering is anything but sweet, words distorted by gritted teeth. 'I saw you exchanging glances with Taehyung today, heard how he jerked off to you, thinking he can make you his.' In a few strides, the hidden author stands by the side of the bed, palms deceivingly calmly resting on knees raised in anticipation before forcing them apart and crawling between them. The aroma of coffee with a faint whiff of grapefruit and echo of jazz fills the tension of faces drawn incredibly close, pale rosy lips near enough to kiss and show it is still a rabbit this cat belongs to.

Wants to be owned by.

A slim finger pushes harshly against barely clothed wanton intention, already betraying how much this obvious display of covetousness is enjoyed. 'Have you forgotten who's you are, kitten? Who your tight pussy belongs to?'

A fast assuring shake of the head confirms the fact that this is, indeed, not forgotten though it does nothing in the way of exposing the truth. Not that the furious yet composed handsome dark dreamer cares about it at the moment, mayhaps never will since every thought clearly goes to a goal which sends pleasant sparking shivers down the spine of the glad victim. 'Where's your tail, kitten?'

'In there, D- Daddy.' One curled index finger hiding soft-spoken lilting lips set beneath blushing rosy cheeks, its left counterpart shyly points to the straw basket beside the bed hiding extremely private with a sexual flair affairs from sight.

'Show it to Daddy.' Commanding sternness tolerating no resistance distorts the raven-haired lad's once friendly voice, completely settled in the other persona often associated - although on ungrounded reasons other than wild Fancy - with the timid barista behind the closed doors of a girl who is not really cared about outside the grounds of compliments for online stories. However, the spectre shows the emotions the real individual does not and thus, for as long as possible, the feigned affection is enjoyed to the maximum.

Slightly leaning on the elbow, the basket is reached out toward but rough impatient hands force a position entirely on the stomach. Teeth worry a roseate lower lip at seeing big palms roaming the behind, mapping out every detail on the skin in a paradoxical loving manner in pure concentration while humming appreciatively. A short tender moment before harshly removing the white elegant lace knickers bought on a whim at the local lingerie store in the hopes of it being noticed despite being hidden, of luring Jungkook into a conversation leading to more.

Silly.

Stupid.

Futile.

Regardless of Sensible Thought returning for a split second of reflection, Imagination rapidly takes over again to rush back into sinful sweetness. The wavering ghost solidifies again, resuming the all but chaste touch with two hard spanks, one on each cheek that both rapidly see crimson as the burn of the hits spreads a warm perverse glow throughout, after watching in fascination as the warming gel kept alongside the stone-shaded fluffy tail with an alabaster tip eases the transformation.

Changes The Cheshire Cat into a meek submissive kitten.

Into Daddy's girl.

'Am I pretty now?' Suggestively, hips sway in the firm hold allowing a bit of movement yet are rapidly halted at two impactful hits which are harsher than the first and turn up the temperature further in more than one spot as delirium slowly creeps into demeanour.

A similar ruthless sentiment obviously permeates in the manner of the digit intruding upon the source of wanton desire, too quick for the opportunity to make connections as comfortable with a little bit of liquid help to be taken. Immediately it is enclosed though not tolerated by the Body in spite of the craving for the controlling one which is so close yet so far removed from here, displaying this by producing natural aid already even though it is not enough. 'I- It hurts. Please, le- let me use lube.'

'No, you upset me and this is how it feels.' Although the soreness prohibits most movement for any slight change might result in anything unpleasant to a new degree, the behind raises further to give better access in desperate hopes of finding at least a sliver of sensual delight. Instead, the action leads to nothing but biting down on the pillow which has found its way into a tight embrace and distressed whimpers. 'Not very nice, is it?'

The echo of a loosened belt along a with zipper coming undone and the rustle of pants being removed form a prelude to a more painful prospect after finding some relief by the broken off link, frame immediately going slack against the comfy mattress.

The brief repose filled with too little time to gain any sense of coherence nor recover in the slightest is cut off abruptly with a snarl, being weighed down by a warm well-formed chest still clad in the work shirt stained with coffee in the meanwhile. 'We're not done, Y/N.' A nudge against the bare assaulted private area causes a paradoxical smile, holding the middle between satisfaction at being wanted and fear of not being able to handle what is to come. 'I still have to remind you who's little slut you truly are, who owns you. Especially when you're so fucking wet. Now, spread your legs and take Daddy's cock.'

'Please, Jungkook, please, we- we need- oh, shit!' The renewed meek plead for using the helpful gel is completely disregarded, a strong hand brutally pressing down on the back of the neck to muffle the words and the outcry in the velvet folds of the pillow.

The gesture is so discombobulating Sense nor the Body knows how to deal with the sudden intrusion, painful intoxication making eyes roll back in the head as a moan easily mistaken for pleasure - which it might very well be as the discomfort is quickly fading to the background - spills from uncomprehending lips. The memory of the rare occasion of having heard the characteristic adorable chuckle surfaces in as dark a form as this show of affection has taken, curses uttered in a misplaced bubbly fashion sounding from a distance as the oppressing weight of Jungkook's figure is lifted off the back to surveillance the sight on the bed with great delight. 'Shit, it really is cock in, brains out with you, isn't it? At least you're being a good kitten now.'

A bruising grip on the left hip emphasizes the far fall into drunken controlling power, the sweet dreaming boy wearing the mask of The White Rabbit nowhere near this alternate version of the Self. The building pace of hard advances coaxes out another string of weak surrendering mewls, not opposing being used like this whatsoever but rather having the treatment add to the boggling of thoughts and thus driving Consciousness out. 'And still such a whore, creaming all over me, so glad to be handled like one. Be my fucktoy.'

It is not about showing affection towards a loved one, but strengthening the claim over a person as one's own after an apparent unconscious breakage of rules and having to put a reminder in place. However, whereas it might appear loveless on the surface, bestial even, there is genuine care in the fingers entangling in hair and pulling it in a manner that brings pleasure instead of torture. An unbidden fear of actual damage in the passionate way hips continuously rock against ashy fluff, savagely establishing a physical connection over and over yet focused on mutual ignorant white bliss.

Nonetheless, all that remains far from tender are the tone of the demands and sadistic amusement of the punishment plus its vocal mixed reactions. 'Say you're sorry, bitch. That you'll never be Taehyung's, only mine. Apologize and I just might go easier on you.'

Though hazy thanks to the pleasant effects of the union, words manage to arrange themselves in simple albeit logical outcries begging for mercy. 'I- I'm sorry, Daddy! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm yours! Only yours!'

'Yeah, are you sorry for being such a little slut? Sorry for breaking my heart?' A particularly hard thrust forces out a pathetic sob instead of one last clear declaration of regret, the high-pitched noise substituting a proper excuse.

The unforeseen breaking of the physical spell triggers an insatiable craving for it once more, tearful eyes immediately looking backwards at the haphazard barely composed figure, taking in the loose shirt and ruffled raven locks matted by sweat before wandering to the part of the body coated in a filmy unclear white substance. The soft needy whine and quick getting up on the elbows makes The White Rabbit laugh, perversely amused by the obvious show of wishing for a second joining. 'You're such a whore, directly whining for my cock when it no longer fills your pussy up. So desperate to be stuffed to the brim again.'

The beautiful full cat tail is draped over an assaulted lap, hoping to thus gain sympathy which will lead to a listening ear. To a second time with him. 'Please, I'm- I'm so close to cumming. Pu- Put your dick into my creamy cunt. Please, I'll be good from now on.'

Digits entangle themselves into ashen locks, pulling them back after binding them together with a tug bordering on painful yet gentle enough to be hypnotizing, the agony nevertheless resulting in a firm hold over the inhuman part of the body.

The warm breath smelling of cappuccino heats the tingling skin of the jaw further when whispering in the ear. 'Beg for it.'

The commanding growl unleashes a waterfall of corrupted pleads, solely focused on pleasure in as inappropriate a manner as possible. 'P- Pound me into the mattress. Use me. I- I'm your fucktoy. Fu- Fuck me open and make me leak with your seed, Daddy.'

'That's what I like to hear, kitten.' With a firm push against the shoulder, the spine greets the cushiony surface of the mattress and Jungkook's shadow looms overhead soon after the landing. One hand gently places a leg over a shoulder shaped by hours of power training in the mutual gym. The blazing fierceness in onyx doe eyes noticeably calms down before long lashes brush over the surface of beautiful cheekbones to conceal the astounding impact of the physical reunion, lips parting in a shared gasp at the sheer force of it. 'Oh my God, you feel good.'

Hips begin a snapping relentless pace, meeting with an eager second pair in a bruising manner continuously. Gazes become unfocused as the edge comes closer and closer, tempting one who wants to remain a little longer on the secure ground to jump and end the anticipation that has been building beyond comprehension.

A protective arm frames the head when the appreciating glances cast by lidded dark irises - going from the fluffy grey tail with the white tuft upwards - at last end in nature after a silently praising journey over the body, keeping the feline secured by a rabbit a bit longer in the realms of coherency. Albeit with very discombobulated thoughts and barely conscious hands resting on the skin of the biceps, desperately holding on to the trusted lifeline as muscles ripple underneath the surface.

And though it be but little, regarding the hypnotized mesmerization dims the volume of the short whimpers at the harsh ministrations below in order to fully enjoy the sweet complimenting voice laced with the characteristic cute stuttering which manages to resound in the heated room regardless of the mind-boggling sensual action. 'Taehyung cou- could never fuck- shit, you're so easy - fu- fuck you like this. You- You're mine, my whore.'

The next advance leads to new unexplored depths, feeding the frenzy to an uncontrollable degree as the siren call from white pleasure is given into. Bunny teeth worry a plush roseate bottom lip, muffling satisfied chuckles at seeing the effects of the novel experience. 'I- I'm so deep inside you, princess. Pounding yo- your slick pussy, filling you up. Yeah, that's it, clench around me. He can- can't make you feel this ama- amazing.' The speed accelerates as the faded fierceness returns, the corrupted persona within newly arisen. 'Wanna cum? Yeah, want to lose yourself on my cock?'

Aggressive nodding forms the grandest part of the reply for the single word coming out does so in a distorted sobbing fashion, barely logical at all. 'Y- Yes.'

'Cream all over it?' The ability of speech has completely vanished, the only thing left to do being whining for release.

Foreheads come to rest against one another, the grip on the knee becoming firmer than it had been before, digits still entangled in short wet dark locks mirroring its strength to the great delight of the man above, as Jungkook lowers his voice to a begging yet demanding growl. 'Cum for me. Scream out my name, let your neighbours know who's fucking you like the slut you are. Who you belong to.'

A whisper repeating the initial command and a last harsh thrust provide the final push, letting go of reality with a shout of the truly shy dreamer's name.

Only to wake up another.

Because, when lashes flutter open to empty dusk, the ghost of The White Rabbit has faded and all that remains is a hand stained with a lewd sticky unclear fluid forming strings between the tips of fingers. As if reflecting on a grand question about life, thinking to find the answer in the visible aftermath of the action inherently undertaken in private solitude, it is regarded while seeing the liquid stretch and shrink as a reaction to the slight casual ministrations of enhancing and decreasing the distance between digits.

An ironic smirk shapes itself on the mouth, entertained by pondering the question that continues to haunt the gradually regathering thoughts.

Yes, when had he become so significant?