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yoonia · 6 months ago

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Ever A Never After: Act 2 (1)

⟶ Chapter Summary | Some say fate can be a cruel thing. Yet you never knew how true it was until fate played a hand in your bad luck. Merely moments before your happily ever after, you are suddenly sent out to a weird place. A different world. You wonder if this is a test from fate to see if you are truly deserving of your happy ending, or if perhaps fate wants to show you something else. Something that fate wishes you to learn before you can finally move on to take the next step towards your happiness.

⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Rom-com ⟶ Word count | 15,410 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; slow burn, mentions of curses, black magic, theft, law terms. ⟶ Author’s note | Gosh, this took so long to update, and I’m so sorry for that. Act 2 has expanded way beyond planned, so I had to split this into two (shorter) chapters to make it easier to read and for me to edit. Still, this was roughly edited because I’m currently dealing with a lot of stuff (sick cat, health issues, mental block, etc), but I hope you’ll still enjoy reading this.

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𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 1. 𝔚𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔄𝔩𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡

Is this a dream?

Am I dreaming?

You have to be dreaming. You are sure of it. Because there could be no other way to explain what is happening now.

But what exactly happened?

Just moments ago, you were standing in front of the most exquisite fountain you have ever seen, marvelling at its beauty—the artistic carvings around the pool, the crystal-like water flowing in slow ripples, and the waterfall that seemed to have manifested from the palace’s walls. You had gotten completely enchanted by the sight of the fountain that you were already drowning in it even before you fell straight into it.

That’s right. I fell into the fountain. But how did I fall?

Your memory is a bit fuzzy, most likely due to shock. All you can remember is that at one moment, you were standing there, watching the cascading water that appeared like a crystal veil falling into a pool of clear, silvery water, and then the next, you felt like gravity became stilted and you started falling.

You remember the sound of the water splashing and crashing all around you. And then came the cold. The water felt like ice as it engulfed you, adding weight to your dress as it soaked all over the fabric which was dragging you deeper, bringing you down, and down, with not a sign of you reaching the end of this fall anytime soon.

Is there really no end to this pool? Where is the bottom?

It seems odd to think that the pool you have fallen into could be this deep. You are quite sure you could see the bright white marble stone at the bottom of the pool when you were marvelling at the fountain earlier, and it didn’t seem to be this deep.

But even weirder is the fact that your dress. Despite having been soaked with water earlier, the dress is no longer drenched. Neither is your hair. Your body is dry, even when you still feel cold. Real cold. As if you are being embraced entirely with ice.

All while you are continuously falling. Still falling. With nothing embracing your fall no matter how much time seems to have passed since.

Turning to look down below, you can only see nothingness. The sight of endless darkness surrounds you from all sides and corners. All except one. Darkness is not the only thing that you see as you fall, as the part of the waterfall you saw at the fountain is here with you; a veil made up of crystal-like water cascading right beside you, an extension of the falling water you saw right before your fall.

How odd, you wonder, as you try to reach out to it as you continue falling. The waterfall seems to magically continue into the darkness beyond. As if there is no end to it.

Just like how there seems to be no end to your descent.

This is it, isn’t it? This is the end. You cannot help but wonder, finding no other way except to give in to fate. Instead of panicking and feeling terrified, for some reason, you find calmness. Calm enough to choose to touch the endless waterfall, feeling its icy stream with the tips of your fingers, instead of looking into the dark to embrace your final moment.

“So beautiful,” you whisper as rainbow colours magically appear in the water at the touch of your fingers. Sparks seem to spread into your skin as the water sprinkles out of the waterfall, splashing gently around your hand. “How lovely, it—oh!”

All of a sudden, everything comes to a sudden halt. Pain spreads through the side of your body—from your shoulders and down to your hip—as you fall onto a hard surface. Groaning in pain, you make no effort to move. Not until the throbbing ache begins to ebb.

Pressing your palm down, you nearly flinch instead of finding steadiness. The ground beneath you feels as cold as ice. It feels beyond uncomfortable, yet you try to hold the displeasure and push yourself up to sit.

The first thing you notice as you look around is the way your skirt is splayed widely on the ground. A stark white that glows like moonlight against the dark void that forms the solid ground beneath you which seemed to have manifested out of the darkness.

The wall of incandescent water is now gone. Only the darkness remains, blending into the midnight-coloured ground going as far as your eyes can see.

Confusion plagues you. Instead of feeling any hint of fear, you feel somewhat serene. As if the shadow around you has not only swallowed down all the lights, but also your frazzled thoughts.

And yet your senses are clear. Enough to allow you to see it when the light suddenly appears amongst the endless layer of shadow around you.

Just like the wall of water which accompanies your fall, this light is filled with tiny sparks, floating in the air like little stars you see in the night sky. Slowly, you begin crawling towards it, worrying that your legs would fail you should you dare to try and rise on your feet.

From up close, you can see clearly that the sparkle of lights is, in fact, not actual stars. They are simply fractures of light filtering through small apertures formed between and around an iron plate that seems to have manifested on the center of the midnight-coloured ground.

Leaning down, you try to take a peek into where the lights are coming from. Except that the opening is too small for you to see anything clearly. Still, you can hear sounds—steady murmurs with sometimes a few indiscernible shouts echoing through the unseen space beneath you, rapid footsteps and rustles of hard materials crossing the opposite side of the ground, an irregular current of rumbling and wheels that sound larger and heavier than the wheels of horse carriages that you are most accustomed to hearing, and loud horns blaring from every corner.

Feeling hope clawing in your chest that you may find your exit beyond this iron plate, you sit back up and begin tracing the edges, looking for something to hold. A touch of a small gap on the outer rim of the plate tells you where to place a grip. With the tips of your fingers, you gently press and slip them into the gap, hoping that you can pry it open.

It takes some effort, but you finally manage to slide the heavy iron plate aside. A strong breeze immediately filters through the opening. A breeze that feels nothing like what you remember back home.

It feels warm, but with barely a hint of the fresh air filled with the scent of pine and clear water that you are accustomed to. Instead, the air feels dry, mixed in with smoke and dust and a tad smell of must which makes your throat grow tight and you find it hard to breathe. Coughing up, you suddenly feel as if the ground beneath you is tilting over, your body being pulled into the opening by invisible threads. The force is so strong that you cannot fight it, unable to stop your body from submerging into the hole.

Or, in this case, emerge.

Because the moment you open your eyes again, you are pulling yourself out of the opening. The world on the other side of the hole seems to be inverted, everything held upside down with gravity pulling you down in the wrong direction. What you had thought to be the bottom turns out to be a bright sky, the sunlight shining so brightly that it hurts your eyes.

Your legs are trembling when you step out of the hole, your heels almost slipping on the hard ground that is lighter than the ground where you had landed on from your fall, the surface uneven and rugged.

Your body feels stilted as it defies gravity, and it takes some time before you can finally regain your bearings. A struggle made by being instantly overwhelmed with a myriad of sensations coming over you—the air that feels too warm and the sunlight that seems too bright after being stuck in the dark for a long while, the loud noises reverberating in the space around you, and the rush that seems to be happening everywhere you look.

Where—where am I? What is this place?

Shaking your head, you wonder if you are simply imagining things or perhaps you are dreaming. Because this place looks nothing like Andalasia.

The road where you are standing isn’t made of cobblestones and gravel. Instead of trees, you see buildings in various shapes, sizes, and colours. Buildings that seem taller than Castle Andalasia and its towers or even the enigmatic witch tower you had once seen during your trip across the woodlands.

Some of these buildings are even sparkling under the sunlight, as if they are enchanted with spells and light magic in various colours. With crystals that are covering half of their bodies and lights illuminating even under the bright sun. Lights that appear like stars and rainbows glitter onto the streets below, flashing luminous colours onto the people passing by as if they are blessed with magic.

And there are so many people around you—walking up and down the road, across the street. Some are rushing in quick footsteps, while others are walking leisurely as they admire the buildings and the bright, colourful lights glimmering from around them. Many are dressed funnily, with only a few wearing dresses and suits like the townspeople of Andalasia who you often met when you were with your grandmother tending her shop downtown.

But most baffling is the sight of numerous carriages appearing in odd shapes and various flashy colours, all seeming to have been crafted with metal, driving up and down the main road without a single sight of horses pulling them. You watch as some of those metal carriages are stuck before turning to a different road, and the sound of the horns you heard earlier starts blaring all around you.

What are those things? What kind of magic exists here?

“Excuse me, Ma’am? You’re not allowed to be here.”

A deep voice startles you, drawing a squeal out of your lips. Turning around, you see four men coming towards you. Four large men, all of them wearing similar clothing. Chest coverings in the shade of tangerine and sunflowers which look like those vests that knights would wear under their armours, only thinner and frail, barely a protection against threats. And just like some knights you once saw patrolling across the rise around Castle Andalasia, the men are wearing helmets that reflect the sunlight. Except they don’t protect the men’s faces the way they should have, making you wonder if they might be a different type of knights which you had never met before.

“Ma’am?” One of the men calls out when you fail to answer. But it isn’t his voice that snaps you out of your stunned silence. It is how the man is leaning close to you, looking at you with an odd look on his face—as if you are some kind of a wild creature coming from the forest.

“I beg your pardon?” Your voice comes out thin. Nearly indiscernible among the loud noises coming from all around you.

This seems to surprise the strange man as his gaze softens. So does his voice when he points at what appears to be a line of makeshift fence bordering all around you from the busy road. “This spot is closed. See? We’re doing some work in here and you’re in our way.”

You frantically gaze around, scrutinizing the small things you have failed to take notice of before. Everything is still so confusing and you only end up feeling more lost than ever. Seems like you had emerged in the middle of the road. The metal carriages are driving around you, avoiding the area bordered by the fences circling the spot where you and these men are standing. And it seems that you have garnered some attention, as you watch some people passing by turning to look.

Another man steps closer while looking wary. “Is there a problem, Miss? Why are you in the middle of the road?”

“Oh, um—” Taking a deep breath, you muster calmness before looking back at the men again. “Forgive me, Sir. It appears that I have gotten myself lost. Can you please show me the way to return to Andalasia? I must go back before it’s too late. The ceremony should’ve already started by now but here I am, still—”

“Are you lost, Miss? Are you talking about the ceremony that’s happening today?” A different man takes over this time. Unlike the others, he seems to be more even-tempered, calmer as he speaks, and he isn’t treating you as if you a wild thing to be wary of.

A sigh of relief escapes you as you turn to the third man, finding solace in his presence. “Yes, there’s a ceremony that I must attend, and it’s—”

You suddenly find it hard to continue, unable to openly share your concerns.

How ridiculous does it sound? The bride, losing her way to her own wedding?

You clear your throat and force a smile. “You see, I wasn’t sure where to go with no one to guide me and I suppose I took too many turns to get to the venue that I lost my way.” The words come out of you rapidly in a rush before you can stop them, while the men start looking at each other.

“What ceremony are you talking about?” The first man whispers to the friendly one that you are talking to.

“There’s a party thing going on the block over. Saw guests coming in dressed up in designer dresses and suits earlier like one of those award things. Much fancier than what she’s wearing,” the third man answers as he points at your wedding dress.

Joy bursts through your chest at his words. Elegant dresses and suits fancier than your handmade dress can only mean one thing. Surely, he is talking about the nobbles who were invited by the Queen to attend your wedding with the Prince.

The nicer man of the three looks at you again with a rueful smile. “It isn’t far from here. Do you see those black vans over there? The ones heading down that street?” He points out across the street, where the congested road of metal carriages appears. “Just follow them and you’ll find the venue around the corner. You won’t miss it with all the crowd and paparazzi lining up at the front.”

You have no idea what some of the words he is telling you mean, yet you barely waste any time considering it when your gaze lands on a group of dark-coloured metal carriages driving past the blockage, drawing attention from the crowd surrounding them.

Clasping your hands together, you turn to the man and thank him with a bow. “Then I must not waste more time and make haste. Thank you for your help. It’s so kind of you.”

“Uh, yeah—anytime,” the kind man murmurs absently as he watches you gather your flowy skirt and gracefully turn away to start trudging across the street, following his guide. Barely acknowledging his response when you have your mind busy wondering about those dark carriages and the crowd of people who are watching them go.

Are those some sort of magic carriages coming for the guests?

You find this peculiar, yet pleasantly surprising, as the last time you spoke to the Prince, he spoke about not feeling sure about having many guests attending the wedding ceremony.

“Queen Mother might get anxious about the wedding being so rushed. You wouldn’t mind keeping it small, do you? Mother would be able to use magic to announce the wedding to our neighbouring kingdoms and send out invitations, yet who knows how many would be able to travel to Andalasia on such short notice.”

You still remember that moment—the gentle sway of the horse that the Prince led to walk slower towards your home, the strands of his hair that kept flickering with the breeze, and the flutter rising inside your chest.

You sighed into his embrace, still finding it hard to believe that it wasn’t a dream. That you were talking with the Prince about your wedding. “I don’t mind. As long as we’re together.”

Prince Jungkook laughed softly then. “You make me want to rush the wedding further, Princess.”

The warmth that you felt that day returns just as you remember his smile. So does the flutter in your chest as you think about returning to the Prince so you can marry him. Just as planned. You are lost in the depth of your thoughts as you turn away from the burly men, reminiscing the past that had just ended a day ago—more or less.

A day that feels like forever as you tread carefully down the road, avoiding the carriages that are speeding across and around you, horns and shouts blowing in the air as they drive past by.

Everything seems like a white noise, regardless of how foreign the sounds are to you. They all drown even the loud voices of the burly men that you are leaving behind as they are calling out to you from behind.

“Wait, is she walking? In that dress?” One of the construction workers who had first approached you at the site shouts behind you, baffled as he realises that you are going on foot towards the venue for the movie premier mentioned by his colleague. “Hey, you might want to get an Uber, Miss!”

“Let her be. She’ll probably get there faster than riding a car with all this traffic,” the only oldest one from the group who didn’t make an effort to speak to you comments from the side, already busy continuing the work that he left behind to grab a bit for lunch earlier.

The worker who felt sorry enough to help you ponders over his friend’s comment for a moment as he watches you disappearing among the crowd. “Yeah, you're probably right.” he finally says after pushing down the unease boiling inside him. “Did anyone see where she came from?”

“She was already standing there when I got here,” says the first worker who came back to the renovation site to find you first. He is just about to say something when he suddenly stumbles, barely catching himself from falling when one of his feet slips down into an opening that he failed to notice when he first came in.

“What the fuck—” he curses under his breath once he realises what had almost made him fall over. “Hey, who opened the goddamn sewer? I could’ve broken my neck!”

How long has it been?

How far have I been walking?

Speech has long left you. Your thoughts are barely coherent as time continues to pass by without fail, and you are still out here, stranded in the middle of a city that you cannot recognise as a part of your home.

Home feels so far away.

Especially now that you are starting to believe that you are no longer in Andalasia. Nowhere near enough, that is quite for sure, as there is nothing about this place that comes close to anything that you would normally find back home.

Hours must have passed since you’ve fallen through the fountain and then emerged in this strange place. Wherever this place is. Hours of walking and getting lost in a giant maze that was way more complex and bewildering than the maze of hedges back in the castle.

Hours have definitely passed since you looked up to the sky to see the bright sunlight. Warm as it was after having drowned in the cold shadow that brought you here.

Was it really hours ago when you spoke to those burly men on the road? You wonder to yourself as you look up at the sky, the colours are slowly changing, the white and stark blue in the sky turning warmer as the sun continues to glide lower into the horizon, under the tall buildings that look larger than guard towers.

The place that the kind man had informed you about hadn’t been a part of the castle. Not at all a part of a royal wedding. But your wishful thinking made you believe that you may have gotten through a different entrance gate leading back to the castle when you saw the glorious sight of noblewomen and noblemen walking down a red carpet into what seemed to be some sort of a ball.

The dresses you saw were captivating, more stunning than the dresses you saw worn by the ladies of Andalasia. The men wore breathtaking suits, with colours brighter than what you had ever seen before. Some were even adorned with rare jewels that glowed under the lights as the men walked down the same path covered in red carpet.

You were so enthralled by the sight of them that you didn’t realise being lured to follow them. Stepping closer only led you to be pulled in, drawn into the line of nobbles walking into the venue.

There were also the forces around you which kept pushing you to them—the crowd of people outside of the venue that seemed to be admiring the stunning nobles entering the venue, the flashing lights coming from every corner, blinding your eyes that you couldn’t see where you were being pulled into, and the guards in suits who kept yelling at you to “Keep moving!”

It wasn’t until you were at the door that it was finally made clear to you that you were at the wrong place.

“An—invitation?” You stood by one of the guards who eventually stopped you from going further, baffled when you were suddenly asked for an invitation.

An invitation, to your own wedding?

“Yes, you’re here for the premiere, aren’t you? We need to see your invitation.”

“I’m not—” you looked around, panicked. Your voice weakened when you murmured defeatedly, “I’m supposed to be at the wedding.”

There was something in the guard’s eyes that made your chest clench. A look of pity that you had only once seen from your grandmother when you came home late at night after playing out in the forest too long.

“This is an invitation-only event, so I’m afraid you’re at the wrong place, Miss.” The man turned to another guard then and said something about helping you find an exit without having to go back through the crowd. Yet you barely paid attention to any of it, too distraught about getting stuck at the wrong place when you were running out of time.��

“Excuse me, Sir. Can you please show me the direction to Castle Andalasia?”

You tried to ask the guard as he was pushing you out of the exit, who no longer had his attention on you as commotion suddenly started rising from where you first came in. “Keep moving, Miss. You shouldn’t be the way,” he only said before rushing away, leaving you lost and clueless at the exit.

Shaking your head, you try to shut down your thoughts, pushing away the uneasiness that is haunting you and start paying more attention to your surroundings.

You cannot remember half of the journey that took you here after leaving that place. Nothing but a blur of faces and movements, being pushed around amongst the crowd of people and getting too close to danger when you had to dodge the metal carriages rushing through the streets.

The only thing reminding you of how far you have travelled through the city to find your way home is the soreness growing on your legs, the blisters you feel forming on your skin from wearing your heels for too long, and there is no doubt your updo is falling apart, held up merely by the pins from the tiara on your head.

Thinking about your tiara makes you think about your forest friends. You lift your hand to brush against the jewels, reminiscing the sweet moment when your friends helped pin the tiara on top of your head before sending you off for the wedding.

“Oh, my precious angels. I hope you’re all safe,” you whisper, choking with a sob. You wonder where they are, and wonder if they ever got to the wedding spot safely and met the Prince. They must be worried, once they realised you weren’t at the venue when they got there.

Picturing their voices saddens you. You miss their cheerful chitters and squeaks, the little teases they often throw at you just to make you smile. You wrap your arms around yourself as you think about them, wishing that they were here with you instead. How different this would have been if you had them around. Their presence would have been wonderful. Even if they would be just as lot as you are now, at least they could have cheered you up so you wouldn’t lose hope.

Any sliver of hope you had to find your way home was fairly lost some time ago. Even so, you refuse to give up. You cannot give up. It would have been silly for you to simply give up and stop looking for your way home. You are merely lost. The only thing you need is to find the right road to take, and perhaps the right person who would be willing to help you.

Sighing, you feel your hope dwindling even more as you think about finding help.

The people here—they aren’t kind.

Apart from the burly men dressed in bright-coloured vests and oddly shaped knight helmets you met when you first arrived in this strange place, you have yet to find anyone else willing to help, much less to look your way.

Well, some did. Though not all were interested enough to help, quite a few seemed to make a mockery of your wedding dress or were curious about why you were wearing such a dress in the middle of the city. At least, there were a rare few that tried to help you. At least, you want to believe that they meant well, even when they seemed confused.

“Excuse me, could you please show me the direction to Castle Andalasia, please?”

“Excuse me—”

You remember asking, questioning the people you passed by until your voice nearly grew hoarse. And you remember how often you were met with suspicious glances, and wary gazes, before some of the worn doubts faded and they all tried to point you in various directions to go.

“A wedding? I heard wedding bells from the chapel across that garden. That must be where you’re heading?” said one lady with streaks of grey in her hair and a hint of caution in her eyes.

You nearly ran across the garden that she pointed towards, not even sparing a glance to admire its beauty until you reached a chapel. A place where an actual wedding was happening, only that it wasn’t yours, and you had only stayed for a minute to watch the bride and groom walking down the staircase after sharing their true love’s kiss.

And then there were those other people who seemed awfully confused with your question when you asked for directions that they spoke with words that had no meaning for you.

“Castle? What castle you said? This isn’t England, lady.”

“Is that a new ride in Universal Studio?”

“No, I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Is she talking about a movie set? Just point her to the studio. Seems to be wearing the wrong period dress, though.”

You have lost count of how many places you’ve been to in the day, none of which turned out to be anything close to the castle. How many times you were turned away from buildings and gated properties after following the directions that you were given? How it had only led you to become even more lost, not knowing which way to go?

And then when you were not being turned away from one direction to the next through those vain instructions, you kept finding yourself being thrust and propelled to a myriad of courses without having any control or sense way to go. It kept going on for a while, until you finally managed to escape, leaving the crowded streets and the busy part of the city behind.

The road you took to leave the bustling place you’ve been to still bears no sign of it leading towards Andalasia. But at least it is quieter here than the roads you travelled across before.

The bright and flashy buildings you saw earlier have grown less and less the more you go. Some still look as menacing as the towers of the evil witches of Andalasia, others are standing strong like fortresses with giant luminous paintings attached to their walls. But they grow more scarce as you continue walking, finding more gates and long, unending walls, and trees which stand like massive pillars pointing up to the sky.

The roads that you have seen so far are wider, longer, all filled with those carriages—most of them in similar sizes, some bigger than most, and there was one which appeared like a giant animal strolling down the road—without horses pulling them forward. The surface is smoother than the gravel-coloured roads winding down between the towns and villages of Andalasia, all painted in a darker shade of colour than the cobblestone roads you saw around the castle.

As you continue walking, you keep hoping that the roads will suddenly change. To grow smaller in size and change shapes so you can follow them to find your way back to Andalasia.

And yet, just like how fate hasn’t been on your side today, there is no such luck.

Your head is pounding. You cannot remember when was the last time you ate or drank anything. You had been so nervous about your wedding that you could barely swallow anything at breakfast.

Now it seems that the day is growing darker. Time seems to flow faster here than how you remember it back home. The temperature has also dropped. It happened so suddenly that it almost felt like you were once again transported to another place in time. Without having to fall into a fountain this time.

Hugging yourself isn’t doing much to eliminate the cold, and you begin to regret not listening to your grandmother about covering your dress with a coat when you left home this morning. And your dress is getting heavier the more exhausted you feel. The skirt is dragging by your feet and the hems have gotten soiled after walking so long.

Rounding the corner, you see a line of benches on the side of the road. Before you realise it, you quicken your pace, desperate to rest even for a moment.

“Oh, this is great,” you whisper with a sigh of relief once you are rested on the bench. Leaning back, you rest your sore back and shoulders, before stretching out your sore legs. You can feel your muscles growing lax. Even if you are still feeling down in the dumps, drowsiness easily sets in.

But right before you can allow sleep to take over, you blink your eyes open to the creaking sound of wheels and look up across the street. And then you see her. Covered from head to toe in a dark-coloured cloak, the familiar figure that you saw just hours ago is walking on the other side of the road. Hunched down, the hood of her cloak covers the top of her head but not enough to hide her from sight, and she is focusing more on pushing the metal cart that she has with her to notice you watching.

The old hag.

“You—! Wait a moment!” You push yourself up. Getting your legs to start working again is a struggle that you nearly slip on the pavement before you manage to run across the street, catching up to the cloaked figure right before she disappears around the corner. “Please, I have no idea what happened, but you need to bring me back to the castle before—”

Desperate, you reach out to grab her, to get her to listen, and the cloaked old had abruptly turns to snap at you. “Hey, don’t touch me! What’s your fucking problem?”

You step back, flinching at the hostility and the stench. “I—” Your words die down when her hood falls back, revealing her true features. Immediately, you can see that you have made a mistake.

The person before you has a tangled mass of darker hair in the colour of chestnut, with only a few strands of grey and silver appearing from the top of her head, unlike the elder woman you met at the royal garden with silver-moon hair framing her face. From up close, it clears that her cloak is tattered and stained in various places, unlike the old hag’s velvety cloak which appeared slightly fancier despite looking worn out and old. And while this person’s face seems to have been roughened with time, with lines and scars appearing around her eyes and lips, she still looks much younger than the person you have been seeking since you met her last.

Disappointed, you can feel the strains of hope you felt leaving your body. “I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

The person scowls, giving you a look that reminds you too much of the troll who attacked you the previous day that you wince back. “I should sue you,” she says, her voice lowering to a snarl.

“What—?”

The hooded woman sneers, showing you her stained, crooked teeth when she chuckles. “Yeah, I’m suing for harassment. I was just walking and minding my own business when you’re trying to mug me.”

You watch in horror as she points at the pile of things filling up her metal cart, accusing you of thievery. “No, I wasn’t! I told you that I’m sorry—”

The peculiar woman scoffs, yet her eyes still narrow with suspicions. “All right, fine. Then pay up and I ain’t calling the cops.”

“I’m—sorry?”

Once again, the woman snarls at you. She pushes her hand at you, palms facing up. “Pay up, hon. Give me some cash. I know you have some with you.”

The woman, looking awfully wicked as she smiles at you, scares you so much that you cannot stop yourself from stepping back to avoid her calloused and cracked hand. “But I don’t have any money. No coins. Anything,” you nearly beg her as you grab a hold of your flowy skirt, clenching it tightly to stop your hands from trembling.

The wicked smile on the woman’s face immediately turns to a frown. “What? You’re telling me you’re dressed all fancy and you got no cash with you?”

The sharpness in her voice terrifies you. So much so that your hands are no longer the only ones trembling in fear. Your whole body freezes, and your legs start to grow weak as you take another step away from her. Another move and the woman’s gaze moves upward, stopping at your tiara.

Her sneer returns. “Guess this will do.”

Her eyes, which appeared pale and dim blue when you first saw her, now begin to glint with a new light. Piercing blue eyes glow under the streetlights as if she is using some kind of magic, distracting you for a brief moment as she suddenly raises her hands to grab your tiara.

“Wait! No!” You flinch backwards, trying to escape. You let go of your grip on your dress to stop her, but it’s too late. Her grip strengthens on your tiara and she begins to pull. “Don’t do that! Stop!”

For someone who seems so weathered, the woman is strong. Much stronger compared to your weary self who can barely fight back. With a strong tug, she manages to pull your tiara off of your head, pulling a few strands of your hair with it, while the force she uses pushes you backwards until you fall into a heap of mess—your bottom hitting hard onto the pavement that you can feel your skin bruising underneath, your skirt spreading all around you, catching dirt and soil, while your frail legs are bent beneath your weight.

“Now this looks nice. I bet I can trade this for some cash,” the woman muses with a wicked chuckle as she turns the tiara back and forth in her hand, giving it a closer look. The glint in her eyes seems to glow brighter, drawing an eerie shudder through your body. She looks at you with the same sneer that she’s been wearing when she says, “Thanks, doll.”

You feel powerless. Too shocked and afraid to move, yet you make another effort to beg her as she turns to leave.

“No, please don’t take it away! That’s from my—”

Yet your plea falls on unhearing ears. Before you can muster any strength to push yourself up, she quickly disappears around the corner where it seems to be darker than the streets around you, moving too quickly for your muddled brain to process.

Your final resolve crumples, sending you back to the ground as you fall on your knees once again. Speechless, you can only look on towards the shadows where the wicked woman had disappeared to with your thoughts running wild.

A witch.

There is no doubt about it. That woman was an evil witch. Cold shivers run down your body as fear engulfs you. Wherever this place is, you need to get away as soon as possible. Get away from danger. A place where witches reside cannot be safe. Not for you.

With trembling hands, you reach up to touch your hair, now left as nothing more but a tangled mess after the witch pulled your tiara off of your head. Your eyes feel hot, and you wonder if it has something to do with a spell that the witch has left you with in her escape.

But you cannot even dwell on it or think too deeply about it. The heartbreak that you feel in your chest has become too much. Your heart breaks thinking about your forest friends, how disappointed they would be once they find out that you have lost the wedding gift that they had prepared for you.

But what breaks your heart the most is realising that you can no longer go to your dream wedding looking as pristine as you had initially intended. To be the perfect bride deserving to be standing on the Prince’s side as you finally share your true love’s kiss.

As your dream shatters to dust, everything you have inside you begins to wane into nothing. Not even your dwindling hope can spark your heart and spirit back alight without any sign of things going back to the way it was supposed to.

“Oh, dear me. What am I going to do now?”

The pitter-patter sound of raindrops falling on the moving car has never felt so soothing.

But perhaps this is something that Seokjin needs at the moment, even if it is only to help calm his mind.

Normally, he wouldn’t have any problem finding calmness once the day has ended. But the day hasn’t been going well for Seokjin.

The mediation meet-up which had kept him in a bind all afternoon is still stuck in his mind, still weighing him down even as hours have passed. He feels like he can still hear his clients’ voices echoing in his head whenever there is silence or when he closes his eyes, always arguing about the same old thing—over and over again.

Always going in circles without fail, with no solution made, and with no party involved ever willing to back down. And every time the memory comes, he can hear his boss’ voice—one of the partners leading the law firm where he works at—advising him to quickly solve the issue and move on to the next case.

He feels drained and spent just thinking about it again, and he is already dreading the thought of having to deal with them again tomorrow, their last meeting was left with some unfinished business that still needs to be resolved. But it wasn’t like he had any other choice about how he left things behind. He did have to cut the meeting short, lest he wanted to stay all night at the office, being confined in the same room with those same clients.

And he did have something more urgent to get to.

His daughter’s dance recital.

Looking up from his phone, Seokjin turns to his baby girl. A smile voluntarily makes its way to his face as he watches her humming to herself, replacing the scowl that he has been wearing almost all evening.

“You look scary, Daddy,” Ah-ri had said to him the first time he came to pick her up this late afternoon to help her get ready for her recital, wearing that same scowl on his face. Those simple words had worked like a charm, reminding him to leave all the stress and troubles behind whenever he was spending his time with his little girl.

“Sorry, Princess. Just a little tired from work, but I’m excited to see you dance,” Seokjin had said in return, showing a smile instead of a frown, drawing Ah-ri’s own smile and her excitement back on.

Seokjin is quite relieved that he made it to the event on time, and had even made it to stick with her before so he could calm her nerves before she got on stage. Being there for Ah-ri for her performance had become the perfect reprieve that Seokjin had needed the most. It was the perfect escape from the troubles that had been haunting him, and watching her shine on the stage had helped him forget about the noises and the dreadful thoughts over the case that he was dealing with all day.

And his daughter was magnificent. He might be biased, but Seokjin believes his little girl was the best dancer to perform tonight. He was so proud of her that he was beaming with pride by the time he walked out of the venue with Ah-ri by his side.

The only thing stopping him from carrying his little princess and parading him among the other parents there had come to the show was her fancy tutu dress. The girl had been so proud of her dancing costume that he knew she wouldn’t have allowed him to do anything to ruin the delicate ruffles that she spent hours making sure would flare prettily when she was dancing.

If only the night’s event hadn’t highlighted another problem that was lying in wait for Seokjin to take notice of.

Once again, his eyes return to the phone in his hand.

At the screen that has gone unchanging over the past few hours. The texts that were left unanswered, ignored, and most undeniably, unread.

‘Where are you?’

‘Why are you not picking up the phone?’

‘I thought you said you wanted to come to Ari’s recital? The show’s about to start in 10 minutes.’

‘I’m not going to wait for you. I’m going in. It’s starting and I have the ticket with me.’

Reading through the messages makes him cringe. He never thought that he would turn out to be that kind of person. The kind of partner that would bombard their other half with texts when there had been no news from them.

But this was Ah-ri’s big day. And when it comes to his daughter’s happiness and joy, Seokjin will always be willing to put aside his ego. Even at the risk of fracturing the fragile relationship that he has built with Kira for the past few years.

Seokjin exhales a deep, resigned sigh as he recalls seeing Ah-ri’s hollow gaze the moment she first realised that he had come alone. A part of him was convinced that she was just as disappointed as he was for his girlfriend’s absence, but there was a small voice in his head telling him that the little girl had never harboured any hope that Kira was ever going to come.

And that only makes him feel even worse.

“Are you still busy with work, Daddy?” Ah-ri asks him with a small voice. When Seokjin turns to look a this little girl and sees the pout forming on her lips, he knows he’s messing up the mood.

Forcing his frown away, he smiles at his baby girl and ruffles her hair teasingly. “No, honey. Daddy’s just reading some texts that came in while you were dancing. I was so happy to see you up on the stage and was so busy taking videos of you that there were some messages I missed.”

“Oh, okay,” she says, nodding, and Seokjin has to bite back a smile. Sometimes, she can look like she’s trying to act like a big girl when she does this. At least she’s no longer pouting. “But you’re not working again tonight, are you?”

He shakes his head. “No, of course, not. No more work tonight. Didn’t we promise to read some storybook tonight?”

Reminded of his promise, and perhaps already thinking about her Daddy sticking around to read her favourite stories before bedtime, her smile grows so wide that Seokjin’s chest expands with warmth. “That’s right. We did,” she says, a bit more cheerfully this time.

“Let Daddy read some of the missed texts while there’s a chance to, okay? You should rest until we’re home,” he says, to which the little girl nods her head again.

“Okay,” she muses, and her attention is quickly drawn towards the car window. “The rain is stopping.”

Seokjin looks up and nods. “Oh, you’re right. Good thing that we’re almost home so we don’t have to be wet,” he murmurs with a grim smile.

Funny weather today, he wonders, as he thinks about the rain.

The sudden drizzle that came right when they were leaving the venue only added today’s peculiarity. It was a relief that Seokjin—who was too exhausted after work to drive his own car—had the mind of ordering an Uber for them before they got all wet. And now there is nothing that he wants more than to get home, get warm and comfy, and rest for the night.

As Ah-ri begins singing the song that she was dancing to in her performance, Seokjin finds himself drawn back to his damn phone. For a brief moment, he starts debating whether he should send another message, before realising that he might sound desperate, or perhaps seen like an obsessed stalker.

I’m too tired to deal with this, he wonders with a sigh as he locks his phone and then puts the thing away as he leans back in the seat. He takes this moment to close his eyes and stop himself from overthinking so he can relax.

A moment passes, when the Uber turns into the usual route heading towards his home—one that he has gone through so many times he can recognise it even without looking—and Ah-ri’s soft humming suddenly fades. The car pulls to a halt at a stop sign, allowing another vehicle through, as Ah-ri starts nudging at her Dad.

“Daddy, there’s a princess on the billboard.”

Seokjin hums. “A what?”

“A princess!” Ah-ri excitedly cheers.

“There’s no princess, sweetheart. They make realistic advertisements nowadays that make pictures look more real. You know, like those 3D billboards I showed you once with the characters jumping out into the crowd, remember?”

“No, Daddy. It’s a real princess!” Ah-ri stubbornly starts shouting as the car shifts to move again, “No, mister! Stop! Don’t go!”

Seokjin opens his eyes when the car jerks, the driver hitting the brakes out of shock. He still has his eyes on the front of the car that he isn’t ready when Ah-ri suddenly unlocks her side of the door and jumps out.

“What the—”

“Sir, your daughter—”

“Yes, I know. I’m so sorry about this. Can you please wait for a minute?”

Seokjin already has one foot out the door when the driver swiftly responds, “Sure, I’ll park the car and get out of the road first.”

“Thank you!” Shutting the door behind him, Seokjin looks across the road, his heart nearly dropping when he sees Ah-ri already halfway there. Breathless and mind-filled with fear, he chases his daughter, calling her out and quickly grabbing her shoulders once he catches up with her. “Ari, what are you doing? Get back in the car!”

“No, Daddy. Look, there’s a princess up there!” she stubbornly fights against him while pointing up above.

“That’s not real, honey. Look, see? It’s nothing but—holy shit!”

Seokjin didn’t know what to expect when he looked up, following where Ah-ri was pointing at. Maybe a part of him did expect to see those modern types of billboards with the 3D effects where the characters were made to reach out of the screen—which was what he had in mind when he mentioned it to his daughter earlier—even though he has no clue why anyone would put such a modernised advertisement on a quiet road like this one, where there are only old, low-level apartments in the neighbourhood.

But the moment he looks up, all he sees is a billboard in the form of a 3D castle promoting a new live-action movie based on a children's fairytale story releasing on an online streaming channel this month. He has seen it a few times whenever he was driving down this road on his way to work, and he knows for sure that it never had any additional feature put up with it.

And somehow, he sees a woman wearing a white dress standing in front of the replica of the castle from the movie. Doing God knows what. With heels that cannot possibly steady enough to help her balance on the small ledge she is standing on.

Is she actually knocking at the castle’s door right now?

“See, Daddy? It’s a real princess!” Ah-ri starts shouting excitedly, pointing at the woman on the billboard before she realises, “Daddy, you said a bad word.”

Clearing his throat, Seokjin gently presses his hand on his daughter’s back to guide her back to the car. “Sweetheart, go back in the car. Let me deal with this and get back to you, okay?”

He can feel that Ah-ri is holding back, refusing to leave. The girl has always loved her princess stories and this situation isn’t helping. Seokjin takes one look over his shoulder, noticing that the Uber driver has moved the car to this side of the road, so his daughter wouldn’t have to run across.

The driver steps out of the car, gently calling out, “You want me to call the cops, sir?”

Ah-ri’s eyes immediately grow wide in panic, so Seokjin quickly waves his hand. “I don’t think that’s necessary for now. Please help my kid back to the car, will you?”

Seeing the driver stepping up to help watch his daughter, keeping her at a safe distance, Seokjin cautiously approaches the billboard to try and talk the odd woman—whom his daughter keeps calling ‘a princess’—down from that slippery ledge.

“Excuse me!” he calls out, though he is doing his best to keep calm, not wanting to startle or frighten her with his voice, when all he wants is to make sure that he can help before things get awry. “Hello? Miss? What are you doing? Is everything okay?”

Despite his effort, the woman—you—is still startled at the sound of his voice. Seokjin only realises that the white dress is a wedding dress when you turn—too sharply, which causes Seokjin to flinch—and start glancing around before finding him below. Your eyes widen with relief when you see him.

“Oh, oh! Thank goodness. I was wondering if you could—oh!”

Seokjin’s heart drops when he sees you inching forward on the ledge, your eyes looking straight at him instead of paying attention to where you are stepping on, not realising that you have reached the edge.

“Hey, watch it—”

Seokjin tries to warn you, only that he is too late. He doesn’t even think or realise what he is doing. As if on instinct, his body simply moves on its own, drawn towards you just as one of your feet slips over the edge and your body tilts forward before you fall from the staggering height.

Straight into the Seokjin’s waiting arms.

A deep, resounding grunt vibrates from around you. Yet your mind is spinning, still reeling over the series of events that have happened in the course of—a minute? Hour? No, not an hour. Oh, why does it matter?

You close your eyes when your head starts spinning even faster. Thinking hard does not seem to be advisable to do at the moment. Oddly enough, closing your eyes makes you feel slightly better. And it helps that you are surrounded by warmth. The kind of warmth that feels comforting, like a warm hug, accompanied by a delicate yet fresh scent of wood and musk and a hint of something sweet.

Wait. A hug?

Your eyes snap open when you realise that you are, in fact, engulfed by a strong pair of strong arms wrapping themselves around you to keep you from falling to the ground. Confused, you are lost to what is happening. And when you try to look up, your saviour’s face is shrouded by shadows. The light coming from above is too bright, and all you can see is the lines of his face. The short strands of hair falling from his face look like a curtain as he looks down, keeping his eyes on your face, yet it frames his face perfectly.

For a hazy moment, your mind makes you believe that you were once again saved by Prince Jungkook. That he had somehow found you and caught up to get you.

But then you blink, clearing your mind with it, just as your eyes start to adjust to the play of lights. The lines on his face becomes clearer, and then his eyes—the pair of beautiful eyes that are looking at you with fear, concern, and wonder—become visible to yours. And then you quickly realise that the person, your saviour, no matter how good-looking he is, is not the Prince.

The moment everything truly registers through your muddled mind, your eyes grow wide and your body grows rigid, before you start apologising.

“Oh, heavens! I am so sorry,” you gasp aloud, your cheeks burning with shame as you try to push away from the man and stand on your own two legs.

Yet the man’s hold around you is sturdy, and instead of releasing you and letting you fall, he gently lowers you back on your feet. His hands remain on your upper arms for a brief moment to keep you steady before he finally lets go and takes a step back.

“Are you all right? Is everything good?” the stranger begins questioning you, his eyes going down the skirt of your dress as he speaks and then lingers. A crease forms between his eyebrows when he notices the tattered hem of your skirt, and how badly soiled the fabric has gotten. His gaze rises back to your face again as he asks, “Are you hurt somewhere?”

Clutching at your skirt, feeling like you want to hide inside it, you try to recall what had happened. You had gotten quite lost in your confusion and exhaustion and were trying to find any sign that might show you the way home when suddenly, this small castle appeared before your eyes, perched atop some kind of a tower. Thinking that it might have been some piece of a totem, a magical item that might be able to take you home, you climbed on top of the tower to open the gate, only to find that it was locked. Desperate, you began banging on the door, hoping that someone on the other side would hear your call for help and open the door for you so you could come home.

Then you heard a voice. Your prayers were heard. Until you quickly realised that the voice had been coming from under the tower instead of from within the castle.

You were so surprised and so excited to finally see someone again after a long, quiet walk through this darker part of the city that you tried to get closer to him without realising it. When the man began to speak with you, you didn’t realise that you were beginning to inch forward as you responded to him, not noticing that you were stepping towards the end of the ledge until you began tilting and falling over.

You really need to stop falling.

“Are you lost, Miss?” the kind stranger asks you, full of concern, while helping to keep you steady on your feet with his gentle hold on your elbow before you start to fall back. Again.

And the help is completely welcome, as your legs keep failing you. Your exhaustion is giving you a hard time to hold the weight of your wedding dress that has grown soiled and torn in some places. But you cannot find it in you to focus on your tattered dress right now, as the stranger in front of you seems like the light shining bright in the darkness.

A beacon of hope, whose presence alone is enough to eliminate every angst and distress that you have been feeling all day long. And it is enough to bring back your faith in all goodness.

The kind of goodness which reminds you of home.

“Yes! Yes, I am,” you answer him kindly with a smile on your face. You breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, there is someone willing to listen and care enough to help you. “I need to find my way back to the castle.”

He stills. Glancing back and forth between you and the small-sized castle standing behind you, he carefully asks, “What castle? And what were you doing up there, endangering yourself? You could’ve hurt someone. You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“What do you mean ‘what castle’? Why, of course, I’m talking about Andalasia.” A bubbling laughter leaves your lips. “I tried to knock on the front gate, but nobody answered. Maybe because it’s late? But I also have no clue if the totem only answers to a certain spell.” You stop with a deep exhale of breath when you realise that you wouldn’t know of any spell cast on the castle since you are not a royal born.

Shaking your head, you turn to the man again. “Would you please kindly show me the way to get back to the castle, I’ll be more than grateful—”

“Huh, right,” he gently cuts you off with an odd expression on his face. "Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” His eyes flicker briefly to the top of your head, where your tiara used to be. “Do you have your phone? Is there someone you can call, maybe?"

"A phone? What is that?" you ask, and his eyes grow wide, as if you had just said something so staggering it leaves him nearly speechless. "And I don't think anyone will hear me from all the way here if I call them, don't you think?"

"Ookay—" The stranger reaches into his suit jacket as if trying to pull something out of it. “Where is the address? Why don’t I just call you an Uber?”

“Uber?” You tilt your head, confused. You have never heard of the name before. “Is that the name of your horse?” you ask with a soft gasp, recalling that the gentlemen that you have met back in Andalasia tend to name their horses with peculiar names and titles to differentiate them from one another.

Just like how Prince Jungkook named his white steed Onyx—which reminds you of the gemstone similar to the one your grandmother kept in her drawers back home.

A slight pinch of sadness arises inside your chest at the thought of home—of your grandmother, the Prince, and the quaint wooden cabin taking lone residence at the heart of Amaranth Forest. Oh, how wonderful it would have been to be on your comfortable bed, tucked beneath the fuzzy blanket that your grandmother had made for you, and wearing a simpler slip of a dress that would not be pulling down your weight each time you move around.

“But, Daddy—we have an Uber!” A small voice suddenly speaks. You turn to look over behind the stranger to see a little girl popping out of the shadow. Wearing a tutu dress in pink that matches her tiny shoes and feather headpiece, she looks like a little pixie with her cheeks blushing in the cold, almost to the same colours as her fluffy skirt.

“Ari, I told you not to leave the car,” the man gently scolds the little girl while pushing her back.

“Oh, hello sweetheart. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,” you greet her with a smile, which seems to make her happy. Because both her eyes and her smile light up almost as bright as the lights flashing from the castle behind you.

“Hello,” the girl shyly greets you back. Her voice is soft when she suddenly asks you, “Are—are you a princess?”

Laughing softly, you bend down a little to get to her height. “Oh, no. I’m not a princess. My name is _______,” you offer your hand as you introduce yourself. “What’s yours?”

The girl glances at the man briefly before taking your hand and gingerly shaking it. “I’m Ah-ri, but I also go by Ari so that my friends won’t have trouble saying my name.”

Smiling, your friends come to mind. You miss listening to them singing your name as they play around with you back home. “My friends also have a special name for me. It’s Blossom.” Your throat feels tight just thinking about them, but you try to push it down. “Which name do you feel comfortable the most with?”

The little girl’s smile widens. “I love it when my close friends, Daddy, and Grandma call me Ari,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear with a shy smile. “You look like a princess.”

Eyes growing wide, it takes you a moment to understand what she means. “Oh, it must be the dress. I mean, it would’ve been even better if I still had my tiara.”

Ah-ri gasps. “You have a tiara?”

Immediately, your heart is filled with sadness as you recall the unfortunate incident with the wicked witch. “Not anymore, I’m afraid. Someone took it from me while I was looking for my way home,” you answer with a sad sigh, your eyes tearing up for the loss of your precious tiara.

Hearing this, your kind saviour’s eyes grow wide. He seems startled and wary, and begins glancing around, pulling the little girl back so he can hold her safely by his side. “You were robbed? Here?” he asks, sounding alarmed.

“Well—” Frowning, you look around as you begin to explain that it had happened a while ago. And not exactly here, wherever here is.

“Fucking hell—” you hear him say with a low tone of voice before you can say anything. You have no idea what he means, but it sounds really bad, as Ah-ri immediately turns to chide him.

“Daddy, you said a bad word.”

At the sound of her voice, the man closes his eyes and murmurs a quick apology. “I’m so sorry. Listen, Honey, you need to get back to the car. I’m going to try and call an Uber for, uh—the nice lady,” he says, pointing at you, while the girl furrows her brows, looking confused.

“With your phone? But we ordered our Uber with that earlier,” she says to her father.

“Damn it, you’re right,” he says in return, quickly stopping to mutter, “Oh, fuck.” The little girl crosses her arms as she glares at her father, who later bends down to kiss her forehead. “I’m sorry, baby. Fine, let me just find a way to call for help.”

You watch as the man reaches into the inside of his suit—an odd looking suit which seems so simple but quite elegant, without any jewels or golden embroideries or intricately made lining, yet still nice to look at—and pulls out a small black box in his hand which lights up at the touch of his fingers.

“What is that?” You gasp, “Oh, is that a magic talisman?”

The man looks at you with a million questions in his eyes. “A magic—what?”

Seeing that the man carries with him a magic item, no matter how small and simple it seems, you begin to feel hopeful. Finally, you will be able to go home. His magic talisman will be able to lead you back to Andalasia, as long as he says the right spell.

But why does it seem like he doesn’t understand what you are saying, even when he is holding the magic talisman in his hand?

Do they call their magic items with a different names?

“A talisman,” you try to explain the best you can, “It’s a type of magic items that sorcerers and mages would use to conjure their spells. I must admit, I’ve rarely seen them my whole life. Almost never. But I’ve heard stories of witches who use mirrors to communicate with others or see visions from other places to help them predict the future.” You look up at him with hope blooming inside you. “Are you perhaps a mage, or a warlock?”

The man, who has been looking confused the entire time he was listening to you ramble, only seems even more confused. But then he looks down, following your gaze, before asking, “Are you talking about”—the man lifts his hand to show you the square item that he is holding—”this?”

You clap your hands together. “Yes, it’s just like that one. So is it a magic mirror? Did you create a small one to carry with you everywhere you go?”

Ah-ri suddenly gasps. “Oh, I know! Magic mirrors! Just like the evil Queen in Snow White!”

Pressing your palm over your heart, you are overcome with joy as you finally hear a familiar name being mentioned here in the strange land. “You know Snow White too?”

“Yes, I do!” Ah-ri says with a voice filled with joy. She turns to her father, looking as if she wants to share that joy when she says, “Daddy, she knows Snow White!”

The man grimly nods. “Everyone knows Snow White, honey. There are a ton of movies made for the story.”

You tilt your head. “What’s a movie?”

The man seems surprised when he hears you. As if he wasn’t prepared to hear such an odd question. “I’m sorry. Do you have somewhere to stay tonight? Are you staying anywhere nearby?”

Being reminded that you are still lost, the pain inside your chest grows back to its full size. “I, uh—”

Before you can even think of what to say, Ah-ri slips between the two of you and begins tugging and her father’s hand.

“Daddy, the princess needs our help, and the Uber is waiting,” she says, to which her father looks between you, his daughter, and a figure that you only now notice standing on the side of the road, where lights cannot fully reach him, with a black metal carriage parked right beside him.

“Please, Daddy?” Ah-ri asks again, while her father looks conflicted and stunned into a complete silence.

Seokjin closes his eyes and groans, wondering to himself how on earth he managed to get into this situation.

But there really is no escape from it now. The look that his daughter is giving him says so.

“Daddy?” Ah-ri calls out again, pouting, and Seokjin feels powerless against it.

“Okay, baby,” he sighs. “We’ll get the Princess some help. Let me see if we can find a way to get her home. Maybe if we—”

Seokjin looks down on his phone to find a way to get help, maybe call someone from his office, and curses under his breath when the blasted thing beeps, twice, before the screen shuts down. Having to rush from the office gave him no chance to charge his phone before going to Ah-ri’s event, and all the texting he did and checking where the hell his girlfriend was had probably drained its battery.

“Fuck—” he snaps, quickly reeling back when he realises and glancing at Ah-ri. “Sorry, baby.”

Pouting, the little girl crosses her arms over her chest and scolds him gently. “No more bad words, Daddy. It’s not polite to do it in front of the Princess.”

“I know, honey—”

While he is trying his best to keep himself together against the inner battle he is having, everything starts to fall apart at once. Right the moment his cell phone blips its last life, the rain suddenly starts again. No longer the simple drizzle wetting the road around him but a light shower that will no doubt start to pick up within seconds. Drenching them all if they stay here even a minute longer.

“Daddy…it’s raining again!”

Ah-ri’s panicked voice snaps his mind back into gear. Regaining his focus back allows Seokjin to see his daughter trying to cover her head from the rain, but the stubborn girl refuses to run back to the car. He has no doubt that it’s because she is worrying about this odd woman standing in front of them.

Glancing over his shoulder, he sees the Uber driver rushing into his car. Within seconds, the driver begins reversing the car to get closer, as if making sure that they won’t have to run through the rain—again—to get back in the car.

Seokjin looks at you again, still wary about your presence. In his eyes, you are a stranger lost in the big city, with a dress that has been completely ruined and tattered that he cannot imagine you going around on the streets like this when the sun is out. Especially not here in this part of the city.

He had first thought that you might have been drunk, which would explain why you seemed confused and were doing something so dumb. Like knocking at a miniature of a castle that is a part of a billboard ad promoting a movie. But then you kept looking confused and lost to everything that he said.

With no sign of being drunk or delusional, and a reaction that looked almost genuine each time you questioned him about the things you didn’t seem to understand, his heart feels heavy about leaving you be.

The rain picks up, and you seem to be wrapping your arms around yourself tighter. Your body shivers under your soaking dress, and yet your smile doesn’t seem to waver—something that Seokjin isn’t used to seeing from the people that he has ever met before. And he can clearly see how pale you have gotten. The way you are slightly swaying on your feet also worries him. As if you are about to collapse on the street any second now if he doesn’t do something to help.

“Why don’t you come with us,” he says under the rain, surprising both himself and Ah-ri with the offer.

He isn’t the kind of person who would easily offer this kind of help to a random stranger he meets on the street. And yet the moment the words slip out of his lips, he has a feeling that he is doing the right thing.

“It’ll take around ten to fifteen minutes to get to our house, but it will be a lot better than staying out in the rain like this,” he says, mustering a smile even when he still feels hesitant. The thought of taking you—a complete stranger with a situation that is lost on him—back to his home seems unnerving.

But what other choice does he have at the moment?

“Once we’re there, I can lend you some fresh clothes and get you warmed up, and then I’ll try to order another Uber for you. Maybe I can pay the Uber driver taking us home some extra cash to take you to where you want to go. What do you say?”

As it turns out, the driver refuses to accept any money from Seokjin to send you away once he is done with his previous order.

However, that doesn’t mean that the driver simply chooses to immediately leave and not get involved.

“This place isn’t safe for that poor girl when it’s nighttime. If you have enough sense and goodness in you, you best open up your door for the night, at least. I know bad people, and she doesn’t have the looks for it,” the driver says, right after he blatantly said no to Seokjin’s request even when he was offered double the payment he was charged with for his trip home.

“Though I can be wrong, so you keep your baby girl away from her until you’re sure she’s safe to be around,” the driver adds, as he glances over Seokjin’s shoulder. Seokjin turns to do the same, watching as your back disappears into the side patio, following his little girl who is still chattering about princesses and pretty dresses while guiding you towards the entrance door of your home.

When Seokjin turns back to the driver, he sees the man—who he only realises now to be somewhat older, with greying hair and a wise look in his eyes that helps calm Seokjin—rummaging through the dashboard compartment before handing him a card. “A friend of mine runs a shelter that houses people like her. You can call them up in the morning and get her to stay there if you still can’t find where she lives. They might be able to contact her family.”

Circumstances being as they are, Seokjin decides not to argue with the man and let him drive away, though not before he expresses his gratitude for the advice he was given and the business card in his hand. Seokjin stands at the driveway of his home for a moment longer instead of rushing in, watching the Uber drive away until the taillights fade at the end of the road. He embraces the silence, finding solitude in the lack of sound against the voices inside his head.

Nothing but the sound of the rushing waves hitting the beachside coming from a distance away.

He breathes in the cool night air, wishing that he is somewhere far from this place instead. A different place where the air isn’t so polluted and where he wouldn’t have to worry about stressful client meetings, missing girlfriends, and saving damsels.

Thinking about this makes him want to laugh. It was the same thought that he had years ago which made him decide to buy a property here in the first place; in a neighbourhood closer to the Venice beach instead of at the heart of downtown Los Angeles like many others working in his field would to get closer to work.

He wanted something different, away from the bustling city lifestyle and the traffic, and other things that would have made him feel miserable while still experiencing the best of things from the city. He expected that it would allow him to have some peaceful moments like this whenever he needed it. It was everything that he wished to have when he was cramped up in the studio loft back when he was still living in downtown LA while finishing law school.

And now, he is suddenly looking for something different. Something more. Something that might help silence the chaos happening inside his head.

“Daddy…! You need to open the door!” Ah-ri’s voice echoes from the side patio, and Seokjin quickly brushes his thoughts away.

With a deep inhale of breath, he regains calmness and turns. The business card for the shelter—said to be safe and open for the homeless and women in need of assistance—is now safely secured in his pocket as he walks into his home, joining his chatty girl and the unexpected guest he is welcoming home.

After connecting his phone to its charger in his home office and leaving his daughter in his bedroom, Seokjin makes his way back downstairs to the living room to find you.

He sees you sitting on the settee by the window, looking far out into the night. With your dress spread across the side of the seat and your hair falling loose from the twisted bun, you do look like someone who had just come out of one of his daughter’s storybooks.

Instead of letting you know that he is there, Seokjin stops on the final steps of the staircase, watching you. Mesmerised, he is lost for words.

Because right here, sitting with your eyes looking out the night sky and the lights sparkling across the canal, you seem—peaceful. Unlike before, when you were in complete distress and exhaustion was written all over your face. And for some reason, Seokjin wants to savour this moment. Not knowing the reason why.

But then a soft sound of a sigh, followed by the rise and fall of your chest, breaks the moment, snapping him out of his daze.

Clearing his throat, he makes the rest of his way down and slowly walks up to you. “Hey, there,” he gently says, trying his best not to startle you. A smile comes to his face when you look over with a small, tired smile. “I’m sorry for making you wait. Ari kept trying to talk to me before I could leave her.”

You nod. “It’s fine.” Once again, you glance out the window. From up close, your face seems to light up. The bright lights coming from outside are reflecting on your face. “The view here is lovely.”

“It is,” Seokjin muses, following your gaze, realising only now how rare it has been lately for him to enjoy a serene moment such as this one—the way you are able to find solitude in your darkest hours. “So, um,” he says, shaking his head. “______, was it? Or should I call you Blossom?”

You turn to smile at him again. “Just ______ will be just fine.”

“I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself earlier with all the frenzies,” he says while mustering a smile. To his relief, he can see your shoulders slumping, growing slightly more relaxed in his presence now compared to earlier, and it’s surprisingly making him feel calmer at the same time.

”My name is Seokjin, but feel free to call me Jin. And as my daughter has cleverly introduced herself earlier, her name is Ah-ri,” he adds, with a deeper smile on his face as he talks about his baby girl. “Or Ari. That’s the nickname that she uses since her mother always calls her that way. Perhaps you can ask her again next time which name she’ll be comfortable for you to call her with.”

“I’ll be sure to ask,” you answer with a warm smile, and it thaws his frozen heart a little bit more when your voice softens at the thought of his daughter.

“Listen. My phone is charging right now,” Seokjin begins to explain as he sits on the ottoman right across from you. Keeping both of his arms resting on his knees, he bends forward, putting on the same mask that he usually wears when he has to sit at the center of a mediation during the toughest cases that he ever had to deal with. “I tried to search on the internet about this place you mentioned earlier, Andalasia, but I can’t seem to find it anywhere. Are you sure you can’t remember where you came from, or how you got here?”

Your brows are furrowed deeply as you slowly shake your head. “Everything seems so fuzzy.”

Seokjin nods his head. “And you have no one to call.”

A wry smile appears on your face as you shrug a little at him. “I told you, it’ll be too far for anyone to hear me.”

Once again, he grimaces, knowing that this is going nowhere. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Seokjin counts to three before speaking again, hoping that he can swallow down his frustration so he can find a way to solve your problem.

Hopefully, before it becomes his.

“Look, my daughter is worried and you looked lost, so I’m not sure if I can let you go out like”—Seokjin releases a sigh—”this.”

He tries hard to hold back his grimace and fails. Yet the smile on your face remains, which only makes him feel more guilty as he watches you, looking like a lost little dove, engulfed in a fancy wedding dress that looks like the ones painted in his daughter’s storybooks.

“We need to work to find a way back to your home. Isn’t that what you want?” he asks, and you eagerly nod your head. “About tonight, do you really have nowhere to stay?”

“No, I—” you begin to answer, “I don’t even know where I am.” Swallowing hard, you look out the window again to look far in the distance. Across the walkway that lines up starting from Seokjin’s house towards the spread of white that is barely visible from this part of the neighbourhood. “That is a beach, right? And beyond is the ocean?”

Seokjin furrows his brows. “Yes, that’s right.”

Nodding, you give him a somber smile. “Our small house is far from the coastline. It would have taken days, maybe weeks to get to the ocean. Perhaps it would have been different if we owned a carriage,” you stop with a soft chuckle before adding, “Or a horse.”

Seokjin raises his brows, realising that you are sharing a little bit of details about your home and where you came from, answering his questions. Only hearing it doesn’t seem to solve anything. Even knowing that you are not from anywhere near the beach shows what a slim chance it would be for you to come from somewhere close to the neighbourhood.

He doubts that you are even from the same city.

“There’s a hotel nearby. It’s good and clean, and not too expensive,” he starts, hoping that he can avoid letting you stay here, regardless of how badly Ah-ri had wanted to let you stay just to make sure you would be safe for the night. But it only takes a moment for him to get a closer look at you and quickly notice that you have no other belongings with you aside from the clothes on your skin. “I don’t suppose you have any money with you?”

“Money?” You ask as your hands reach down, nervously clutching at the skirt of your dress, “Well, uh—” A grim smile comes to your face as you continue, “You see, I was supposed to get married today, and this dress doesn’t really have pockets in it. I also didn’t think about taking a purse with me since I was, you know—my hand would’ve had to hold a bouquet of flowers when I walked down the aisle.”

You suck a deep breath at the implication that your situation had involved a wedding, and Seokjin has no idea why the sound you make pierces straight deeply into his chest. Then you make it worse when you speak with an innocent, helpless voice of yours, “Anyway, you are right, Sir. I don’t have anything with me. I left all my gold coins back home, since I thought I wouldn’t be needing it today with the wedding ceremony and all.”

Again, dread fills his chest. “Gold coins,” he groans under his breath with a grimace. He closes his eyes, trying to find that sense of calmness deep inside him once again before it slips away. “All right. Breathe.”

Seokjin takes a deep breath as he begins thinking, trying to decide what would be the right thing for him to do. Right at that moment, the words given to him by the Uber driver return to him, removing any doubt that he still has about letting you stay. Looking at you, he realises that the man had been right about one thing.

Seokjin may not know or understand what kind of situation you are in, and all the things that you have been saying sound too ludicrous to be true. But each time, you seem genuine. Nothing that you said and done feels like an act to make a fool out of him or filled with nefarious intent.

And he genuinely doesn’t think he has it in his heart to let you go anywhere when you seem so helpless.

“I guess since it’s late anyway and, well—” He grins. “My daughter might get upset if I let you be on your own when you’re, um—confused.” Rising to his feet, he offers you a hand to help you up and says, “We don’t have a lot of guests, so we only have one guest bedroom. It’s small, but I hope it’ll be adequate for you to have some good rest for the night. What do you say?”

Smiling with relief, you nod and take his hand. “That would be lovely.”

Seokjin feels awkward holding your hand as he guides you upstairs to the guest bedroom. Yet he is glad that he even thought about offering because you keep swaying on your feet as you walk by his side, as if your body is ready to give up anytime soon. By the time he reaches the bedroom, he almost finds it hard to let go of your hand just to be able to open the door for you.

“Here it is. Ah-ri, my daughter, loves to hang out here when I’m not home since it has a good view, so we change the sheets regularly. It’s also clean, and you have easy access to the guest bathroom. It’s also small, but—” He gently explains as he is showing you the room, yet you are too distracted to listen.

Your eyes are no longer on him, but you are looking out the window across the room instead, distracted by the view of the ocean that is more visible from up here. In the night, there is nothing much to see. But the lights coming from the beachside and from the resorts and venues overlooking the ocean are helping you see the rushing waves, even if it is still too far away.

With your attention on the sight before you, you gingerly takes a seat on the small daybed placed by the window, once again getting lost in the view and forgetting Seokjin’s presence.

Shaking his head, Seokjin can only sigh. “Well then, I should, um—” He clears his throat, feeling even more awkward now when you barely pay attention to him, yet pleased that you are able to somehow find some peace here. “I’ll let you rest. Let me check if Ari has found something for you to change into.”

You still have your eyes looking out the window when Seokjin makes a move to leave the room, ready to close the door gently behind him. But before he can escape, you suddenly turn to look at him with a smile. “Thank you, kind Sir. For you and the little princess. This day has been—”

A resigned sigh escapes you. The sound once again pulls at Seokjin’s heartstring that he finds himself completely speechless. But whatever anguish that you have wanes as you lift your gaze at him and smile. “You were the first people to be kind to me. Everyone I met had been—rude, dismissive, and that was before I got my tiara taken away.”

Swallowing his guilt, Seokjin can only nod, feeling solemn. “Welcome to LA,” he says with a bitter chuckle, while you merely tilt your head, looking even more confused that Seokjin can only exhale a deep breath. “I’ll go check on your change of clothes. We can talk more in the morning, once you get some sleep.”

Seokjin’s heart and legs are heavy when he closes the door and walks away. He walks past Ah-ri’s bedroom and walks up another flight of stairs to get to his bedroom, where his daughter is waiting for him to return. Entering the main bedroom, he finds Ah-ri setting up his clean white T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the bed.

“Will this be okay for the Princess, Daddy?” she asks once she notices him entering the room.

Nodding, Seokjin reaches out to ruffle the girl’s hair. “Those will be fine. Thank you for getting them for me while I set our guest to her room.”

Beaming at the praise that she has earned from her dad, Ah-ri begins picking up the clothes. “Then let me take them to her—”

Seokjin quickly stops her. “No, sweetheart. You can see her in the morning. I’m sure the lady—I mean, the Princess is tired, and you’ll only ask her too many questions.”

“But, Dad—”

“Let me take it to her while you get ready for bed.”

Ah-ri pouts. “Fine. But be nice to the Princess. Okay, Daddy?”

“Okay, I promise. You sit tight. You’re sleeping here tonight. You said you wanted me to read you before bed, didn’t you?” Seokjin asks, and he feels guilty when Ah-ri beams at him, looking pleased with his promise without knowing that he only wants to keep her away from you. At least for the night.

You may not be suspicious in his eyes after having that last conversation, but that doesn’t mean he is willing to risk his daughter’s safety around a complete stranger that he is hosting in his own home.

It takes a while for Seokjin to help his daughter to get ready for bed. The girl will not stop talking, jumping from one topic to another so quickly that he can barely keep up—from complimenting your dress, regardless of how tattered it looked, and comparing it with her tutu dress, to how adorable her new pyjamas look.

She is in the middle of choosing which storybook she wants him to read by the time Seokjin finally gets the chance to slip away, carrying with him the change of clothes that he had promised you and a fresh towel for you to clean up. He makes a quick stop to the snack bar downstairs to grab a bottle of mineral water and some snacks for you.

But once he finally returns to the guest bedroom, you have already fallen asleep. Taken over by your exhaustion, no doubt, as he finds you lying asleep on the daybed where you were sitting on when he left you, watching the night view of the ocean and the beachside from afar.

Smiling to himself, he takes a moment to admire the way your dress glitter under the dim lighting before deciding that he would just let you be. With careful footsteps, he enters the room, leaving the clothes on the bed that you had taken no notice of and setting the drink and snacks on the bedside table for you to find when you wake up.

Picking up the blanket from the bed, he covers you with it and gently draws the curtains close, fearing that the sunlight will burn you in the morning. He steps away once he is done, closing the door behind him gently as he walks away, letting you drift off to wherever your dream may take you.

⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | Thank you for reading!

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shrewsburysworld · 22 days ago

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Summary - Dr. Seokjin was the town’s most admired man—renowned, handsome, and endlessly kind. But at home, he belonged to a wife who couldn't bear to share him with the world. Yn was possessive, her love fierce and unrelenting. If she caught him looking at another woman for even a second too long, she’d make sure he remembered who he belonged to.

The hospital staff pitied him. They whispered about how unfair it was, how he was trapped in a marriage with a woman who didn’t deserve him. They thought Seokjin was helpless, a man too kind to leave his cruel, obsessive wife.

But none of them knew what truly went on behind closed doors.

None of them knew that Seokjin wasn’t as innocent as they thought.

------

Are you ready for Yandere Seokjin?!!

#shrewsbury #shrewsasks #bts imagines #yan blog #yandere bts #bts fic #yandere #bts fanfic #bts ff #seokjin fanfic #yandere seokjin #yandere male #seokjin fluff #seokjin scenarios #seokjin smut #seokjin angst #seokjin fic

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dumpywrites · 20 days ago

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BTS Masterlist by dumpywrites :)

⊹ Kim Namjoon / RM

· So What if We? - Slight angst, friends to lovers, minor mentions of smut · Tears and Poetries - Fluff, comfort, idol Namjoon, non fan reader · Emulsion - Angst (happy ending), arranged marriage, slow burn

⊹ Min Yoongi / Suga

· Cat-astrophe - Fluff-ish, strangers to ???, minor mention of anxiety. · Cat-enaries (Cat-astrophe pt. 2) - Fluff, smut (protected sex, vanilla) · Adrift - Angst (happy ending), slight mentions of smut, friends to friends with benefits to lovers · Locked! - Slight angst, fluff, boyfriend Yoongi/established relationship · Wanna See My Cat? - Fluff, situationship-ish, clueless reader vs flirty Yoongi · Test Drive - Fluff, friends to lovers, friends with benefits? but they only kiss

⊹ Kim Seokjin / Jin

· Fish in Disguise - Fluff, enemies to lovers(?), university au, they are both dumb lol

⊹ Jung Hoseok / J-Hope

· Osculate - Fluff, friends to lovers, producer! Hobi, slight drama, slow burn(?), mentions of cheating ex

⊹ Kim Taehyung / V

· Nomenclature - Fluff, strangers to lovers, simp! Taehyung, christmas cliche, some mentions of Yeontan passing · Star Crossed - Fluff, feel-good sweet soft fluff, university au, strangers to lovers (?), drable-ish

⊹ Park Jimin

Nothing yet!

⊹ Jeon Jungkook

· Two Days - Fluff, friends to lovers, biker jungkook, jungkook is a goofball and a simp · Facade - Fluff, strangers (?) to lovers, idol Jungkook, fan/army reader · Knocked Out - Fluff, idol Jungkook, fan reader, drabble-ish, they have language barrier · Trophy Boy - Fluff, friends to lovers, model! Jungkook, soft! Jungkook, office worker reader · Ugh! - Pure fluff, tsundere Jungkook?, exes that are so not done with each other

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euphoricfilter · 1 year ago

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Idk if u write this but

Breeding kink for seokjin as a night shot?

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. night short #30

double horny thought for tonight!!!

it wouldn’t have been until one night, the both of you in his car with no condom on hand, would he find out just how much you loved the idea of him cumming inside of you just as much as he did

your pussy clenching around him, cock arousal-soaked and slippery. ring of creamy white cum clinging to the base of his cock

his eyes would stay trained on where your bodies meet, stomach tensing when he cums, utter filth falling past his lips as he tells you how much he wants to fill you up. how his seed would take, how pretty you’d be with his baby

wet squelch obscene as he fucks his cum back into you, smearing whatever had escaped over your clit to bring you to the edge of your second orgasm

he’d work his softening cock back into your cunt. keeping himself there tucked warm inside of you until you feel him stirring between your walls, hands wandering over your body as he starts to rock back into you, ready to release another load of warm cum, cock twitching as he cums, feeling enough for you to find your own orgasm

he’d make you ride him, lifting your hips up just enough for him to slip out of you, making you push his seed out of your cunt, watching it dribble onto his cock before he’s pressing it back into you

or making you finger his cum back into you as he watches, thumb pressing over your clit, helping you get off as he recovers, ready to fill you up, ready to make it take this time

night short masterlist

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parkitrighthere · 5 months ago

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MASTERLIST

• TITLE: Celeste (Tangled In Love And Destiny Series)

• PAIRING: Seokjin x Wife!Reader

• GENRE: Romance, Angst, Drama, Unrequited Love

• RATING: 18+

• WORD COUNT: ongoing

• TRIGGER WARNING: This story explores themes of arranged marriage, unrequited love, and emotional turmoil. It delves into the complexities of a relationship marked by resentment and the struggle for acceptance. The narrative includes mature content, including explicit scenes and sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

• SUMMARY: Seokjin orchestrated his own arranged marriage, but even after six years, his wife still loathes him… or does she? He’s perfect in every way, but she’s blind to what he offers. As the years go by, will she finally see the man behind the mask? Or will he always remain the one she’s forced to love?

• a/n: This story is entirely a work of fiction and is the sole property of @parkitrighthere. The characters, events, and scenarios depicted are products of the imagination and are not intended to represent or reflect real-life situations, nor do I wish for anything portrayed here to occur in reality. I kindly ask that my work not be copied, translated, or reposted as your own on this or any other platform, including YouTube. Please respect the effort and originality behind this piece. Thank you for your understanding and support.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

OTHER

Moodboard

a/n: Let me know what you think in any way you like—comments, messages, carrier pigeons, whatever! I'd love to hear! If you want to be tagged for future chapters, just holler.

#kookiewithluv #bts ff #bts ffs #bts fanfic #kim seokjin #bts seokjin #seokjin x reader #seokjin scenarios #seokjin bts #seokjin x you #seokjin x y/n #seokjin angst #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #bts smut

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7ndipity · 1 year ago

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Their Ideal Types

Ot7

Summary: What I believe the members ideal types would be.

Warnings: Swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Please bear in mind tho that these are just my personal opinions, based on what I’ve observed from their personalities and with some references to their astrology charts(if you’re not into that, just ignore those points on each list)

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

His Capricorn venus means that he’s a little old fashioned in his style of romance, which I think reflects in his statements in the past about being a classic hopeless romantic. He wants someone who he can sweep off their feet and eventually settle down with.

I don’t think he has a huge preference on age, I feel like he’d kinda want either a little older/younger rather than the same age tho.

He’s said once that he wanted someone a little on the chubby side(granted, this was years ago, so I don’t know if that’s still true), he also strikes me as someone who would be drawn more to the classic ‘girly’ vibe(pastel colors, flowy layers, fluffy sweaters, etc) but I think the main vibe he’d look for in a partner is comfort. I don’t quite know how else to describe it other than ‘Ghibli vibes’ if that makes sense?

He would want someone with a classy/graceful air, who’s confident in themselves and not afraid to take the lead sometimes and stand up for themselves.

Someone mature, but not too serious, with a good sense of humor and who’s not afraid to be silly sometimes. Someone affectionate, but not overly clingy.

Someone patient and understanding, who makes it easy for him to open up and be vulnerable.

Yoongi:

Pisces are already very deep feeling signs, but coupled with his Venus in Aries, Yoongi can sometimes come off rather intense in regards to relationships. He’s very matter of fact about his feelings sometimes, and I think he wants someone who can match his frankness. He doesn’t have patience for mind games, if you’re into him, fucking say it.

He’s said before that he doesn’t really have a type, at least when it comes to physical appearances or styles. Imo tho, I feel like he would be into someone with a casual, more tomboyish style(oversized hoodies/sweaters, layered shirts, sneakers, shorter hair)

Doesn’t really have a preference on age either.

He’s said before that he wanted someone similar to himself, with a deep passion for music and creating. Obviously, that doesn’t mean you have to be a professional artist/musician(I actually think he would prefer someone outside the industry, or at least outside the Idol/Kpop sphere), but he definitely needs someone who’s a fellow creative type who can understand that side of him.

Someone patient and warm, with an infectious energy that can help bring his mood up(kinda like Hobi), with a sharp sense of humor like his own.

I think he would like someone who’s somewhat independent, who knows what they want and isn’t willing to take shit from anyone.

Hobi:

His Pisces Venus means he’s very go with the flow when it comes to relationships, so he would want something very relaxed, without any chase or mind games, or anything too rushed either. He wants someone he can just ‘be’ with.

I think he’d prefer someone slightly younger, not significantly tho, just a couple years or so.

I think he’d be into someone ‘cute’, though maybe not necessarily in fashion sense, moreso just their general energy. Style-wise, I think he’d like someone who similar taste as him, more streetwear type clothes.

Someone bright and easygoing, who’s equally happy with going out or staying at home and doing nothing. Someone energetic, who not afraid to be silly at times.

Someone very sweet, kind and gracious(lowkey think he would be into the “mom friend” personality)

He’s said before he wanted to feel cherished in a relationship, so I think he would want someone he can take care of, big fan of skinship(bordering on a little clingy). Someone who makes him feel needed/wanted, who dotes on him over little things.

Namjoon:

Namjoon is like a textbook Virgo, very grounded and practical. However, his Venus in Scorpio means he’s quite intense emotionally and sexually, so he would want a partner that can balance or match his intensity.

I think he would prefer someone his age or slightly younger.

I remember Jk saying once that Joon was into the ‘cute but sexy’ vibe, and I think that’s still true to an extent, he finds people with range very attractive. I don’t know that he really has a preferred style, maybe something more simplistic like his?

He would definitely like someone confident and independent, who can hold their own in a conversation or argument, but still polite and open minded. Someone that can challenge him and his own perceptions.

Someone intelligent, career/goal driven, and creatively minded, someone who he can go to museums/art exhibits with.

I think he would also really like someone who’s into fitness and working out like he is(lowkey loves the idea of gym dates), but it’s not a necessity for him.

Jimin:

He’s a classic Libra to his core(which I love abt him but it also drives me crazy). As much as he loves to tease, he doesn’t have the patience for too much chase or playing hard to get. He wants someone who’ll be honest about their feelings.

I think he would want someone close to his age, a little older/younger doesn’t make much difference to him.

He said before that he tends to prefer cuter appearance/vibes, but with his Venus in Scorpio, I think he would be drawn to someone with a bit of a darker, sensual contrast in their personality or looks, kinda like him.

He’s a hopeless romantic,(his favorite movies are the Notebook and Like Crazy, he’s a major softie) wants someone he can fall with and yeah, be a bit melodramatic with.

Someone warm, but slightly introverted, maybe even a little shy. Someone kind, open minded, and patient, but willing to stand up and speak their mind when they need to.

Someone who makes him feel needed(another Libra trait) Someone who can keep up with, or even match, his flirty nature.

Taehyung:

As an Aquarius Venus, he tends to be drawn towards people with unique, unconventional beauty/style. He wants someone who’s not afraid to go against the norm to be themselves(tho he would love it if you have similar love for vintage aesthetic like him)

Idk why, but he gives me “When Harry met Sally” vibes. Like, despite his fascination with romanticism as an aesthetic, I think he really prefers to go the friends to lovers route. He wants someone he feels comfortable with first and foremost. He falls slowly and then all at once.

I don’t think he has much preference on age, but he’d probably like someone his age or maybe slightly older.

I think he’d kinda be into the “mom friend” personality. I’ve said it before, he really likes being taken care of, even if it’s just in little ways like fixing his hair or buttoning his coat before he leaves in the morning.

Someone slightly more extroverted, who makes friends easily, likes kids and animals.

Someone sensitive and mature, but who he can still be goofy and random with, who’ll play along with his skits and tangents(like jimin does)

Jungkook:

Although he seems more drawn towards classic feminine style, I think he’d actually find someone with a similar style to his really attractive, even if it’s just in color palette. I don’t think he really has a type stylistically tho.

Despite Libra Venus’ tendency to look for partners that they have an immediate connection with, they actually prefer the ‘friends to lovers’ route, and I think that’s very accurate for him.

He’s kinda into the chase(literally the entire Seven video like👀), so he likes a partner that plays a little hard to get and teases/challenges him sometimes, but only sometimes.

I think he’d prefer someone his age, or maybe even a little older(He has a noona/hyung kink, I will die on this hill)

Like Joon, I think he’d really appreciate who’s into fitness/working out/boxing(lowkey, if you can hold your own wrestling with him, he’s got heart eyes)

Someone confident, independant, and artistic with a good sense of humor. Someone well mannered and patient(rudeness is an instant turnoff for him). Someone who can challenge him, but in a gentle, non-critical manner.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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soft-pxachy · 10 months ago

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⤷ ❝oh, god❞ — ksj (s.m)

➤ Pareja: jin!sacerdote x lectora!fem

➤ Recuento de palabras: 7.9k

➤ Género: sexo en una iglesia! smut y obscenidad!

➤ Resumen: Tu imperturbable devoción a la iglesia nunca había sido algo que realmente te importara, y sabias que no debías estar haciendo esto, sabias que estaba mal, pero no podías hacer nada desde el momento en que el Padre Seokjin entró en tu mente, haciéndote fantasear con él todas las noches, arrastrándote a un estado en el que sabias que estabas condenada, por suerte, el Padre Seokjin estaba dispuesto a perdonar todos tus pecados.

♥︎ softpxachy's

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Era otro domingo de congregación como cualquier otro, T/n estaba sentada en una esquina del banco de la iglesia lo más cerca posible del atril que se elevaba imponente frente a todos, con los brazos cruzados y completamente desinteresada en lo que pasaba a su alrededor, toda su atención estaba cien por ciento enfocada en el Padre Seokjin.

Siempre se negaba a participar mientras el Padre Seokjin dirigía la congregación a través de oraciones y anuncios. Su suave voz reverberaba a través de toda la habitación, cautivando a los asistentes del domingo por la mañana con sus palabras de adoración, predicando sobre la divinidad del amor y de Dios.

Se podía ver fácilmente cuánto había tocado los corazones de los creyentes con sus palabras y actos bondadosos con solo mirar alrededor de la iglesia.

Sus ojos seguían cada movimiento del Padre Seokjin, suspirando cada vez que mostraba una sonrisa encantadora, riéndose cuando hacía una o dos bromas ligeras. Si no supiera nada mejor, pensaría y estaría completamente segura de que las personas que iban a la iglesia estaban allí solo para ver al Padre Seokjin. Prácticamente había hecho que todo el pueblo se enamorara de él. El sacerdote encantador y de buen corazón que era un símbolo de la devoción del pueblo y era una luz cálida y brillante para aquellos que buscaban su providencia.

El Padre Seokjin hablaba y todos escuchaban. Bueno, todos menos T/n.

Sus sermones parecían entrarle por un oído y salir por el otro, y en su lugar, optaba por soñar despierta. Sus ojos nunca deambulaban por el interior de la iglesia, siempre estaban enfocados en la mirada suave y persistente del padre Seokjin. Y esto no había pasado desapercibido para él, por supuesto.

T/n era la chica que asistía a sus misas todos los domingos pero que solo estaba allí; sentada entre la multitud, el mismo asiento todas las mañanas, interactuando con la menor cantidad de personas posible, siempre la primera en entrar y la última en salir. Y había llamado su atención por completo, cada vez más intrigado por ella y por la forma en que parecía querer arrancarle la sotana con los ojos, deseando poder saber que pasaba por su cabecita para ser tan persistente y dispuesta en cualquier cosa que tuviera que ver con la Iglesia, y ahora era él quien estaba completamente cautivado por ella,

La comunión era la parte favorita de la misa para T/n. Eso significaba que era casi la hora de irse y formó un pequeño puchero dándose cuenta de que ahora tendría que esperar hasta la próxima semana para volver a ver al Padre Seokjin, pero aun así se puso de pie y caminó hacia la fila para recibir la hostia, y mientras esperaba, no pudo evitar mirar el hermoso arte pintado en el techo de la iglesia y las estatuas de santos que la rodeaban a cada paso que seguía avanzando hasta que finalmente estuvo frente a frente con el Padre Seokjin.

Él le sonrió cálidamente y con ternura en sus ojos mientras la veía hincarse frente a él sobre el reclinatorio, esperando pacientemente a que ella lo mirara y sonriendo aún más al ver el destello de timidez que brilló en su rostro mientras parpadeaba a través de sus pestañas cuando finalmente elevó su mirada hacia él. Su imponente estatura fácilmente hacía sentir a T/n como si estuviera mirando a Dios mismo.

— El cuerpo de Cristo.— Anunció con su voz suave y amable mientras le ofrecía la hostia.

Los labios de T/n se cerraron alrededor del pan sin dejar de mirarlo a los ojos, sus labios rozaron de forma cálida y suave contra los dedos del Padre quien inclinó la cabeza levemente hacia un lado con diversión y una pequeña sonrisita tiró de la comisura de sus labios hacia arriba, había sido una acción pequeña e imperceptible que debió haber sido la primera bandera roja de que el Padre Seokjin no era en absoluto quien parecía ser, y tal vez T/n había sido demasiado ingenua por no darse cuenta.

— Amén.— T/n respondió por lo bajo mirándolo con pura adoración en sus ojos, odiando profundamente tener que alejarse de su presencia.

Pero simplemente obedeció cuando el clérigo hizo un pequeño asentimiento para que se levantara y regresara a su asiento, el Padre Seokjin aun podía sentir la sensación de sus suaves labios en la punta de sus dedos mientras le daba un rápido vistazo desde lejos, y tenía que admitir que sintió como si lo hubiera besado un ángel.

Y el pensamiento de T/n no abandonó su mente durante el resto de la misa, estando completamente seguro que tal vez ella era una especie de tentación divina puesta deliberadamente frente a él como si se tratara de una prueba de Dios o como si fuera un desafío en su camino. Una cosita curiosa e inocente que el Padre Seokjin amaría ver caer y derrumbarse frente a él solo para poder reclamarla como suya.

Para él, T/n era como un pequeño cordero tembloroso, completamente ajena al lobo que la acechaba. Quizás hoy era el momento perfecto para atacar. Tal vez la presa ya estaba lista para ser capturada.

"Todavía no." El Padre Seokjin pensó para sí mismo.

Había decidido que se tomaría su tiempo, continuaría observándola desde lejos como siempre lo había hecho y planear cuidadosamente su siguiente paso antes de finalmente morder la manzana del pecado que era esa jovencita de ojos de muñeca y labios rosados que atormentaban sus noches más solitarias y más pecaminosas.

Él jugaría con su desinterés en la iglesia justo como ella lo hacía con sus pensamientos lujuriosos, después de todo, tenía que haber una razón que la estaban atrayendo a la iglesia, a él, y para ser alguien supuestamente irreverente, T/n estaba mostrando una gran devoción hacia cualquier cosa que estuviera planeando, pero el Padre Seokjin lo solucionaría, solo era cuestión de…

—¿Padre? —T/n lo llamó suavemente y su voz interrumpió sus pensamientos por completo.

—Vaya, ¿Todavía estás aquí, paloma mía? — El Padre preguntó, mirando alrededor de la iglesia, notando que ahora estaba vacía y solo eran ellos dos quienes seguían ahí.

—Quería hacerle una pregunta, padre. —T/n pidió en voz baja, mientras se distanciaba levemente de él.

El Padre Seokjin le hizo un gesto para que se sentara en uno de los bancos a su lado y T/n lo hizo evitando su mirada, mordiéndose el labio inferior cuando el silencio se hizo presente entre los dos, sin saber cómo empezar exactamente.

— Bueno, por supuesto que puedes hacerme preguntas.— El Padre Seokjin aseguró dando un par de pasos cuidadosos hacia ella.— Ven, siéntate y cuéntame qué es lo que te preocupa.

—Temo que me estén corrompiendo, Padre…—T/n comenzó a hablar por lo bajo y de a poco, cuidando cada una de las palabras que le decía.— Me está comiendo por dentro, es como si se estuviera extendiendo como el fuego del infierno dentro de mi.

—Está bien.— La voz del Padre era tranquila y firme, transmitiendole un poco de seguridad con sus palabras.— Estás a salvo conmigo, puedes confiar en mí.

Y con eso el corazón del Padre Seokjin se llenó de preocupación.

—¿Corrompiendo? Oh, mi dulce paloma. ¿Es por eso que has estado tan distante recientemente? ¿Te has estado guardando todo esto para ti sola? —preguntó con voz suave acortando de a poco la distancia que los separaba sin llegar a ser muy invasivo, mucho menos cuando la vio ponerse rígida y asentir levemente con su cabeza.— Paloma mía, esta es una carga que no tienes que llevar sola. Estoy aquí para ti. No hay razón para que sientas que tienes que distanciarte cuando te sientas preocupada.

—Lo siento, padre. —T/n respondió por lo bajo, agachando su cabeza sintiéndose avergonzada.

—No hay necesidad de disculparse. —murmuró en medio de una sonrisa y elevando una de sus manos para frotar suavemente el dorso de la de T/n, viéndola suspirar y relajarse de a poco en su toque y se aclaró la garganta.— Entonces, cuéntame más sobre ésta... corrupción.

—Me condenaría, Padre… —T/n respondió con voz pequeña mordiendo su labio y sintiendo como su rostro comenzaba a arder de vergüenza.

— ¿Qué clase de sacerdote sería yo para condenar tal pureza? —Habló y su voz la tranquilizó más de lo que alguna vez hubiera pensado, era como miel para sus oídos.

El Padre Seokjin se levantó de su asiento y lentamente se dirigió hasta quedar de pie frente a ella, viéndola clavar sus ojos en el suelo, incapaz de siquiera mirarlo y él no podía entender del todo su actitud.

Había un silencio de muerte. La tensión en la iglesia de repente se hizo notar entre los dos y el Padre Seokjin se movió para pararse más cerca de ella y su sombra cayó sobre T/n como si fuera una manta con cada uno de sus pecados y, sin embargo, comenzó a sentirse más caliente que el calor del sol de ésta mañana.

—¿Has perdido el contacto con tu fe? —El Padre Seokjin habló con la voz más baja y suave que alguna vez hubiera escuchado.

T/n jugaba con sus manos en su regazo, retorciéndose bajo su profunda mirada y no respondió, estaba demasiado aturdida por la pregunta que le hizo para saber cómo responder correctamente.

—Dime, paloma. —El Padre volvió a hablar, usando dos de sus dedos para inclinar su barbilla hacia arriba y hacer que por una buena vez que lo mirara. —¿Buscas una nueva religión?

—¡N-no! No he perdido mi fe…—T/n habló finalmente en medio de un sollozo, sintiendo como todo su cuerpo comenzaba a temblar bajo su toque y su mirada. —Ésta corrupción es…diferente.

—¿Diferente? —El Padre preguntó aún más confundido, inclinándose sobre ella para mirarla a los ojos.— ¿Cómo?

—Yo… —T/n balbuceó sintiendo como su mirada la hacía sentir increíblemente pequeña frente a él.— Tengo estos deseos. Impulsos pecaminosos que vienen a mí tarde en la noche. Padre, quiero deshacerme de ellos.

Y con eso el Padre Seokjin pareció comprenderlo todo, pero trató de guardar las apariencias lo mejor que pudo, pero fue incapaz de luchar contra la sonrisa divertida que se formó en su rostro justo antes de relamerse los labios.— ¿Impulsos pecaminosos? ¿Deseos? Querida, no estás hablando de lo que creo que es... ¿verdad?

—Es vergonzoso, Padre, lo sé… —T/n murmuró por lo bajo mordiéndose el labio con fuerza y sintiendo como pequeñas lágrimas comenzaban a brotar de sus ojos.

— Shhh, no hay necesidad de avergonzarse. —El Padre Seokjin susurró de forma tranquilizadora al mismo tiempo que elevaban sus manos para acunar su rostro con cuidado; limpiando de a poco sus lágrimas.

Era como si su simple toque enviará olas de electricidad por todo su cuerpo, y T/n hizo todo lo posible para concentrarse en los tiernos ojos del Padre Seokjin mientras volvía a hablar.

—Las necesidades carnales son humanas, querida. Está en nuestra naturaleza querer ceder a esa tentación. —explicó suavemente, como si estuviera hablando con una niña pequeña mientras T/n se derretía por completo en su toque, mirándolo con ojos de cachorrito y presionando su mejilla más contra su palma. —Cuéntame más de cómo te consume esta corrupción.

—No podría, Padre… —T/n habló negando con su cabeza en medio de hipos y una que otra lágrima que aún goteaba de sus ojos antes de darle un rápido vistazo a todas las estatuas y pinturas de santos a su alrededor.— No aquí…

—Entiendo, ¿Quieres ir al confesionario? —preguntó tranquilamente colocando un mechón de su cabello detrás de su oreja justo antes de verla asentir con ilusión haciendo sonreír.— Está bien, vamos.

Y tan pronto como dijo el Padre Seokjin entrelazó su mano con la de ella guiandola por el pasillo que daba directo hacia el confesionario y que se escondía en una de las esquinas del gran salón de la Iglesia, lo suficientemente aislado del lugar para que nadie pudiera escuchar ninguna de las confesiones que los creyentes hicieran y se respetará el secreto de confesión del Padre Seokjin.

Era una especide de armario de dos espacios, hecho de la misma caoba lacada de los bancos y de tamaño solo un poco mas grande que para una persona en cada uno de ellos, una cortina de color rojo vino a lo largo de cada puerta que ayudaban a proteger la identidad de cada penitente, y tan pronto como llegaron el Padre Seokjin abrió la puerta del lado derecho, haciendole un leve movimiento para que entrara y ella lo hizo murmurando un pequeño ‘gracias’.

T/n sabía que no debería estar haciendo esto, sabía que estaba mal, incluso el mero pensamiento de confesar todos sus pensamientos pecaminosos eran suficiente para destrozar su conciencia, pero su conciencia ya estaba arruinada desde el primer momento en que hundió su mano entre sus piernas teniendo en su mente al Padre Seokjin, y sabía que eso era la mayor condena para sí misma.

Así que se obligó a quedarse quieta en el banco de madera en el que estaba sentada, tratando de asegurar sus crecientes nervios, podía escuchar los latidos de su corazón en ese pequeño espacio, al menos estaba oculta por la tenue oscuridad de la cabina, pero de alguna manera se sentía desnuda y expuesta, como si la oscuridad fuera aún más reveladora, y sabía que sus pensamientos no estaban a salvo en este silencio y oscuridad sobresalientes.

El sonido de la puerta de la otra cabina se escuchó tres veces más fuerte cuando el Padre Seokjin entrò, T/n notó su silueta oscura moverse del otro lado, sus zapatos resonaron en el piso de madera con cada paso que dio y el asiento crujió cuando se sentó, sus manos se movian nerviosamente en su regazo cuando la voz profunda del Padre se escuchó a su derecha.

—No te pongas nerviosa, paloma. Tómate tu tiempo para encontrar tus palabras. —El Padre Seokjin murmuró suavemente, intentando transmitirle toda la confianza que necesitará.

El corazón de T/n se estremeció en su pecho y se obligó a inhalar y exhalar pausadamente. Podía hacer esto. Sus labios se abrieron y las palabras cayeron familiarmente, como un hábito perpetuo.

—Bendígame Padre, porque he pecado. Esta es mi primera confesión. —comenzó a hablar apretando sus manos en puño en el borde de su falda, pensando que la verdad debería mantenerse bajo llave como lo había estado haciendo los últimos días, esa verdad con la que no debería haber jugado en primer lugar.

—Independientemente de que estés aquí solo para decir tu verdad o para desahogar su mente, estoy aquí para escuchar, paloma.— El Padre aseguró y el sonido de su voz retumbó bajo y cálida a través de la rejilla que los separaba.

Ya estaba aquí, ya no había vuelta atrás ahora.

—He tenido pensamientos impropios sobre éste… hombre, que está fuera de mi alcance. Sé que no debería tener pensamientos tan traicioneros sobre él. Pero no puedo parar. —T/n comenzó a hablar sintiendo como su voz salía temblorosa, manteniendo sus ojos enfocados en las tenues sombras de las estatuas que se reflejaban dentro de la cabina.— Yo… apenas puedo mirarlo, apenas puedo soportar estar cerca de él, porque lo deseo tanto y eso me vuelve codiciosa, ese es uno de los siete pecados capitales, ¿no? ¿Codicia? Eso es lo que soy, Padre. Lo quiero y quiero todo de él. Quiero su tiempo y sus pensamientos, y no quiero compartirlo con nadie.

Y tan pronto como su confesión salió de sus labios un silencio abrumador los inundó a ambos, un largo y agonizante silencio mientras esperaba la respuesta del Padre Seokjin quien parecía estar encontrando las palabras correctas que decir, imposible de ocultar la bruma de celos y posesividad que comenzó a crecer en su pecho después de escuchar a su pequeña paloma hablar de esa forma de otro hombre.

Detestaba el simple pensamiento de T/n tocandose pensando en otra persona y le ardía en sus entrañas, él quería ser el único hombre que estuviera en su mente, el único que la hiciera sentir bien, el único que la viera doblegarse y caer de rodillas pidiendo mas placer, quería que fuera suya, y de nadie más.

—¿Él está casado? —preguntó poco después, recordando sus palabras y con su voz más dura y áspera de lo que imagino, pero era algo que simplemente no pudo evitar.

—No, no lo está. Es... mucho peor. —T/n respondió pensando cual de las dos opciones era peor, ¿Fantasear con un hombre casado o con un hombre que comprometía su vida a Dios?

—Solo eres humano, y el humano comete errores. Ningún error es imperdonable cuando te arrepientes de tus pecados.— El Padre Seokjin instruyó con prudencia, y casi sonó como si esas palabras se las estuviera diciendo a sí mismo.

T/n negó con su cabeza ante eso, como si el hombre al otro lado pudiera verla, eso no era lo que queria escuchar de él, queria que le dijera que estaba mal, algo que le diera un incentivo para acabar con esta tortura.

—Lo hace sonar tan inocente Padre, y no es así…—hablo casi burlándose sin humor de sus palabras.

—¿Por qué no lo es? —El Padre preguntó y su tono de voz cambió por completo, enviàndole un escalofrío que recorrió el cuerpo de T/n, sonaba diferente ahora, ya no se escuchaba reservado ni distante, sonaba cálido y curioso, y la animó a seguir hablando.— Dime más.

Oh, Dios.

—Yo… —T/n balbuceó sintiendo de repente como si su garganta estuviera llena de ceniza. —Lo quiero de manera inocente, a veces. Quiero arrodillarme frente a él y adorarlo hasta que no pueda más, quiero ser buena para él y que me halague por eso. —habló con calma, dejando que su mirada se deslizara hacia el suelo, donde la luz de las velas iluminaba sus piernas. —Pero también lo quiero de otras maneras.

Podía sentir cómo sus palabras se le clavaban en la garganta una tras otra. Estaba segura que la vaga forma de su deseo era suficiente para que el Padre Seokjin supiera que estaba hablando de él, pero parecía como si el sacerdote no tuviera intenciones de detenerla, era como si la estuviera provocando con su voz, y la tensión se podía palpar en el aire, espesa, a pesar de la rejilla que los dividía y el Padre tarareó levemente.

Quería que siguiera hablando.

—Pienso en él cuando no debería, Padre. Trato de no pensar en él de esa manera, pero es tan difícil no hacerlo, siento que sabe cómo es mi alma, y me asusta, pero también me hace quererlo más… —T/n continuó hablando sintiendo como toda la sangre de su cuerpo circulaba con más rapidez, acentuándose en su rostro y entre sus piernas como ocurría todas las noches desde que conoció al Padre Seokjin.

—¿Cuándo piensas en él? —El Padre preguntó con voz áspera, y ese mismo sonido era todo lo que T/n podía escuchar, todo lo demás se había desvanecido en la oscuridad del lugar.

—Lo hago cuando los pensamientos me mantienen despierta por la noche. Cuando está oscuro y estoy sola. Me marean y me dan calor…—respondió con dificultad, sintiendo como las palabras quedaban atoradas en su garganta y como sus mejillas ardían de vergüenza ante lo siguiente que dijo. —Pienso en él cuando me toco, Padre.

Y en ese preciso momento T/n deseaba profundamente que el suelo se abriera y la tragara por completo, pero aún así no podía dejar de hablar, no ahora que parte del secreto que la atormentaba estaba a la vista, necesitaba compartirlo todo, no pensaba seguir cargando con esa culpa sola, y no le importaban las consecuencias que vendrían con eso.

—Trato de no hacerlo, sé que está mal, pero no puedo, trato de pensar en alguien sin rostro, pero no puedo sacar su rostro de mi cabeza. Su voz. Trato de pensar en alguien menos en él, pero no puedo detenerme.

Su respiración era rápida y agitada, sentía como si acabara de subir corriendo tres tramos de escaleras. Las palmas de sus manos estaban pegajosas por el sudor y como pudo las limpió en la tela de su falda sintiendo su cuerpo arder en calor, y por una fracción de segundo, se le ocurrió correr, salir corriendo de ahí al aire frío de la noche, el hecho que el Padre Seokjin no hubiera dicho ni una sola palabra acerca de su confesión la hacía sentir mucho más nerviosa, completamente segura de que él la reprendería por tener ese tipo de pensamientos, que le diría que estaba condenada al infierno por ese pecado, pero lo siguiente que escuchó la dejó congelada en su lugar.

—Hazlo.

Esa palabra del Padre Seokjin sonó como un trueno dentro de la iglesia.

—¿Qué? —preguntó incrédula, sin entender exactamente lo que dijo.

—Muéstrame. —El Padre Seokjin corrigió rápidamente antes de que se escuchara un sonido resbaladizo, como si se hubiera humedecido los labios con su lengua.— Muéstrame tu pecado.

Y ante eso lo único que T/n pudo hacer fue jadear por lo bajo, esperaba internamente la broma, la risa, que él estuviera bromeando, pero eso nunca llegó. Y en cambio, sólo hubo silencio. Por primera vez miró hacia un lado, buscando alguna señal del Padre Seokjin pero todo lo que vio a través de la rejilla fue el contorno aproximado de su perfil.

Antes de que T/n pudiera reaccionar, vergonzosamente, su cuerpo lo hizo primero, reaccionando por completo a su voz, su piel se calentó más que el mismo sol, sus pezones se irguieron debajo de su blusa y el familiar cosquilleo se acentuó entre sus piernas como si se hubiera tratado de una orden del Padre Seokjin.

Apenas y pudo murmurar un pequeño asentimiento antes de hacer exactamente lo que le había dicho, T/n podía escuchar el latido de su corazón retumbando en sus oídos y el ritmo incierto de su respiración mientras separaba de a poco sus piernas para deslizar su mano entre sus muslos.

Su estomago se contrajo abrupatmente cuando sus dedos hicieron contacto con su centro vestido y su respiración se cortó aún más al sentir la pequeña macha de humedad en sus bragas, joder, había estado sufriendo tanto por esto que ni se habia dado cuenta, pero era algo obvio, el Pade Seokjin siempre había tenido un efecto especial en ella, y lo corroboró cuando presionó ligeramente sobre su clítoris, mordiéndose el labio inferior para evitar gemir demasiado pronto y sujetandose con fuerza del borde el asiento con su mano disponible.

La culpa y la excitación se retorcían dentro de su cuerpo, una con la otra, luchando por ver cual tendría el control, sus dedos se movían tan lentamente, torturándose a sí misma y con su respiración agitándose cada vez más con cada débil movimiento sobre su clítoris, estaba demasiado metida en sus propias sensaciones que apenas y fue consciente de la misma respiración agitada del Padre Seokjin, y cuando se dio cuenta de eso T/n no pudo evitar preguntarse qué estaba haciendo en su lado de la cabina, se preguntaba dónde estaban sus manos, tal vez agarrando sus rodillas o apretando con fuerza la tela de sus pantalones, o tal vez en otra parte; subiendo por sus muslos hasta…

—Oh, Seokjin… —T/n gimió por lo bajo antes de taparse la boca con su mano libre para sofocar otro gemido, aunque fue demasiado tarde para que el Padre Seokjin lo escuchara a la perfección.

—¿Es eso lo que haces? —El Padre preguntó con su voz baja y ronca, enviándole un escalofrío de deseo al rojo vivo a T/n por su columna vertebral, casi pudiendo escuchar su sonrisita al otro lado con lo siguiente que dijo. —¿Cuando te tocas dices mi nombre, paloma?

—Padre, por favor yo no… -T/n balbuceó ahogando un nuevo gemido ante otro movimiento de sus dedos, incapaz de poder mentirle ahora.

—No mientas paloma, la forma en que dijiste mi nombre, suena tan familiar. Como si hubieras hecho esto antes. —El Padre agregó con soberbia, había una oscuridad en su voz que T/n nunca había escuchado en él.

—Oh, Dios… —Un nuevo jadeo se derritió en sus labios sin poder ocultarlo, sus caderas se movieron hacia enfrente y contra su palma, buscando desesperadamente un poco más de fricción para su clítoris necesitado, la culpa se estaba comiendo sus entrañas, pero no podía detenerse.— Padre, por favor, siento que empiezan a corromperme de nuevo…

Y con eso los ojos del Padre Seokjin se iluminaron en puro deseo, agradeciendo que ella no pudiera verlo.— ¿Ahora mismo?

—Sí, los pensamientos están volviendo, Padre… —T/n asintió con la cabeza con furia, como si él pudiera verla moviendo sus dedos con más fuerza sobre su centro ahora empapado con su humedad, mojándole los dedos vergonzosamente.

Inesperadamente se escuchó un tintineo metálico al otro lado de la cabina y a T/n se le cortó el aliento al darse cuenta. Su cinturón, el Padre Seokjin se estaba desabrochando el cinturón, mierda, mierda. Cerró los ojos con fuerza intentando alejarse de eso, pero aún podía escuchar el roce de su cinturón cuando el cuero se movió contra sus trabillas y simplemente no pudo evitar imaginarse la forma en que se veía su mano sobre el bulto de sus pantalones.

—Dime de quien se tratan, paloma. —El Padre pidió en medio de un suspiro pesado y T/n juró que su cuerpo tembló sobre el asiento al escucharlo.

—Se tratan de ti Padre, siempre has sido tu… —Admitió entrecortado presionando con más fuerza sobre su clítoris, lo necesitaba, demasiado, era casi carnal la necesidad que tenía por él.

Una especie de calor perverso le atravesó el pecho al Padre Seokjin, casi como un sentimiento de orgullo al escuchar a su pequeña paloma admitiendo que él era el que la hacía pecar, que él era el protagonista de sus fantasías como ella lo era de las suyas, era perfecto y eso le hizo apretar con más fuerza el eje de su miembro duro por encima de la tela de su boxer, casi gruñendo al imaginarse que era T/n la que estaba entre sus rodillas dándole la misma atención con su propia mano.

—¿Yo? —Él se rió entre dientes mientras la seguía escuchando sollozar y gemir por lo bajo, casi deseando poder estar con ella para ver como aliviaba el calor de su cuerpo.— No eres tan pura como yo pensaba, ¿verdad paloma?

—Por favor, Padre…— T/n gimoteó una vez más, presionando sus muslos juntos y moviendo sus caderas con fuerza contra su mano.— Por favor, ayúdame a deshacerme de estos deseos…

Y con eso el Padre Seokjin ensanchó su sonrisa, ¿Quién era él para negarle a su linda palomita que la librara de sus deseos carnales? Después de todo, ese era su deber como sacerdote, ¿no es así? Limpiar a los pecadores de sus pecados, y qué mejor manera que hacer lo mismo con ella, limpiar esos pensamientos pecaminosos de su linda cabecita y devolverle la pureza.

Hubo un silencio después de su ruego hacia el Padre que rápidamente fue cortado por un ruido repentino, demasiado rápido para que T/n lo procesara antes de parpadear ante la luz que inundó la pequeña cabina, y cuando pudo ver con claridad el Padre Seokjin estaba de pie frente a ella, su barbilla está inclinada hacia un lado, el cinturón de su pantalón colgaba pesado hacia ambos lados, la cremallera estaba abierta y una mancha oscura y húmeda decoraba el contorno de su dura erección haciéndola jadear sin ser capaz de cerrar sus piernas ante la imagen cuando el Padre Seokjin rápidamente apretó con sus manos su pantalón, levantando la tela para poder arrodillarse frente a ella.

—Padre…— T/n susurró por lo bajo, sin poder recordar ninguna palabra excepto su título mientras lo veía hundirse entre sus piernas para tomarla por el cuello con una de sus manos, su palma ancha se envolvió alrededor de su garganta antes de inclinarse hacia ella y perseguir su boca ansioso con la de él.

Sus rosados labios se estrellaron con firmeza contra los de ella, y T/n sintió como si estuviera en la puerta del cielo y jadeó contra su boca al darse cuenta de que el Padre Seokjin besaba como un hombre hambriento.

Su cuerpo cayó en un flujo intenso con sus labios unidos a los del otro, sus manos se ajustaron a sus anchos hombros y los arañó por encima de su camisa negra, desesperada por más. Toda la mente de T/n se nubló con la sensación de él, con su aroma, con su sabor, con cada presión de sus labios sobre los de ella y sintiendo como acariciaba su cuello suavemente, rozando sus dedos sobre su pulso antes de presionar con la fuerza suficiente para hacerla jadear sobre su boca y él aprovechó la oportunidad para meter su lengua en la de ella, y rápidamente sus lenguas se enredaron en una danza ardiente, sin necesidad de música, solo el ritmo recién descubierto de sus lenguas, dientes y labios.

—Seokjin… —la voz de T/n tembló mientras respiraba su nombre en una oración entrecortada contra su boca apenas separándose de él.

—Sí, cariño, estoy aquí. —El Padre respondió de la misma forma antes de volver a presionar otro beso voraz en sus labios, ajustando sus manos en su cintura para acercarla lo más posible a su cuerpo, y T/n dejó escapar un suspiro de alivio ante su entusiasmo por continuar.

—Lo siento, sé que no debería… no debería quererte así, pero…— T/n se lamentó de la misma forma ajustando sus manos en su cuello blanco y clerical, el recordatorio de que esto estaba mal, pero no pudo hacerle mucho caso a sus culpables pensamientos cuando sintió al Padre Seokjin tomar sus piernas con sus manos para ajustarlas en su cintura firmemente.

—Está bien, paloma. —Arrulló con su voz ronca volviendo a atrapar sus labios en otro beso, mordisqueando su labio inferior y escuchándola gemir desde lo más profundo de su pecho antes de tomar su mano y guiarla hacia abajo hasta dejarla sobre su entrepierna.— Sigue adelante, cariño. Sigue tocandote para mi.

Y con eso ultimo T/n ahogó otro gemido contra sus labios, volviendo a frotar sus dedos una y otra vez sobre su botón de placer, amando la fricción que se producía entre sus torsos presionados el uno con el otro y de sus respiraciones agitadas coreando el pequeño y santo espacio en el que estaban.

—Pensé que me dirias que debía dejar de pecar…— T/n se las arregló para murmurar aquello descansando su frente contra la de él, sonriendo tontamente al escucharlo reír contra sus mejillas.

—No creo que un pecador pueda decirle a otro que se detenga.— El Padre afirmó con sorna en su voz, presionando la parte inferior de su cuerpo para que estuviera al ras con la de él, situándose mejor entre sus piernas y viéndola jadear cuando su pelvis se hundió contra su entrepierna.

No había mucho espacio en la pequeña cabina, pero eso solo los acercó aún más mientras T/n le rodeaba el cuello con los brazos con fuerza; podía sentir su erección hurgando sobre su núcleo vestido, y no había nada más que quisiera que arrancar la tela que se interponía entre sus cuerpos.

El beso acalorado se estaba convirtiendo en algo más. El Padre trazó sus cálidos besos con la boca abierta por el arco de su cuello, hasta la base de tu garganta antes de darle un suave mordisco, sus labios rosados se cerraron alrededor del área, succionando y chupando su piel suavemente, haciendo que T/n exhalara un gemido estrangulado, el volumen se elevó un poco por encima de los sonidos de sus respiraciones agitadas pero tampoco les importó demasiado. Rápidamente las manos de T/n abandonaron su cuello y aflojaron los primeros botones de su blusa, invitando a la boca atenta y pecadora del Padre Seokjin a bajar un poco más, y él por supuesto que estaba más que ansioso por responder a su deseo.

Su cabeza bajó por tu cuello, tomándose el tiempo para besar minuciosamente tu piel caliente, acariciando su rostro entre tus pechos y un escalofrío recorrió el cuerpo de T/n al sentir la punta de su nariz rozar la curvatura de uno de sus senos antes de que su lengua caliente saliera para lamer su pezón endurecido a través de la delgada tela de su blusa, haciéndola gemir con fuerza y taparse la boca desesperadamente para evitar hacer más ruido.

—Dios se tomó su tiempo cuando te hizo para mi, paloma.— El Padre Seokjin murmuró sobre su pecho continuando con el implacable ataque de su lengua sobre su pezón, desviando su vista hacia arriba y hacia su rostro solo para verla con la cabeza hacia atrás contra la pared de madera y con sus labios entreabiertos, y se apresuró a elevar su otra mano para masajear su seno descuidado.

T/n sentia que podia morir feliz justo ahora, siendo torturada con sus bonitos labios y su caliente lengua una y otra vez, podía sentir como la tela de su blusa estaba empapada con su saliva por la forma en que se adhería a su piel, haciéndola jadear ante la deliciosa fricción en su sensible brote y removerse en el asiento y que sus caderas se frotaran contra su dura erección.

Y antes de pasar al otro lado, el Padre Seokjin le dio otra perversa succión a su pezón riendo por lo bajo de cómo su cuerpo se sacudió debajo de él y su voz salió ahogada en medio del beso de transición a su otro seno.

—Eres celestial, más de lo que podría haber imaginado.— Afirmó cuando su dedo encontró el tramo húmedo de tela, jugando con su sensible pezón una y otra vez, casi volviéndola loca y haciendo que ajustara sus movimientos con su cadera, prácticamente frotando su centro húmedo contra su dura erección atrapada en sus pantalones; haciéndolo ahogar un gruñido contra su seno ante la fricción.

Sus cuerpos seguían completamente vestidos, nunca antes habían estado tan excitados como ahora que su sucia fantasía se estaba haciendo realidad, la espalda de T/n se arqueó más hacia su boca, buscando su calor, rogando por mas, tenia miedo que esto fuera solo un sueño, uno más entre muchos que había tenido con el Padre Seokjin.

Sabía que ya había probado la fruta prohibida y, como un adicta, solo podía rogar por más. Sus indecentes oraciones de más se convirtieron en susurros en el momento en que escapaban de sus labios hinchados de tanto morderlos, y ni siquiera pudo mantener el volumen bajo cuando lo sintió morder con fuerza su pezón al mismo tiempo que sus manos deslizaron sus bragas por sus piernas en un rápido movimiento; el escozor de su mordida y el aire frío golpeando la piel sensible de su entrada convirtieron sus silenciosos gemidos en un grito agudo que reverberó desde el espacio confinado del confesionario hacia la extensión silenciosa y resonante de la iglesia.

Ni siquiera pudo reaccionar cuando el Padre Seokjin tomó sus piernas para colocarlas sobre sus hombros, arrodillándose por completo frente a ella y haciéndola estremecerse aún más al sentir su aliento caliente y agitado abanicar su sensible entrada.

—Eres como un ángel puesto delante de mi.— El Padre Seokjin volvió a hablar entrecortado, viéndola desde abajo morderse el labio para evitar gemir cuando deslizó uno de sus dedos entre sus pliegues resbaladizos, recogiendo su humedad solo para llevárselo a la boca y chuparlo ruidosamente; ronroneando gustoso al probar su sabor.

La vista que T/n tenia era algo completamente digno de contemplar, era algo que pensaba que nunca pasaría, pero ahora aquí estaba; viendo los ojos oscuros y cargados de placer del Padre Seokjin mientras se relamía sus labios enrojecidos por todos los besos que se habían dado, terminando de degustar los restos de su sabor justo antes de formar una sonrisita maliciosa y susurrar acaloradamente sobre su centro.

—Sabes a cielo, paloma, déjame adorarte…

Y tan pronto como dijo eso su cabeza se hundió por completo entre sus piernas y la vista de él desapareció detrás de tus párpados cuando los cerraste ante el primer contacto de sus labios sobre tu clítoris hinchado y necesitado.

Empezó despacio, perezosamente, como si tuviera todo el tiempo del mundo, la mano de T/n se movió para tomar un puño de su cabello; tirando de los suaves mechones ansiosa y desesperada cuando su lengua caliente salió para lamer y chupar entre sus pliegues una y otra vez, le gustaba demasiado esto, la sensación de que el Padre Seokjin la devoraba, succionando su pequeño clítoris cada vez más fuerte que le fue imposible no enredar sus dedos entre su cabello para guiarlo hacia arriba y abajo mientras elevaba sus caderas para encontrar su lengua, y él se dejó hacer, no había nada que hubiera deseado más que probar su sabor justo como ahora lo estaba haciendo, podía sentir que su pequeña paloma estaba punto de romperse, el agudo gemido que soltó y el temblor de sus piernas se lo hizo saber, y justo cuando estaba listo para tomar todo de su dulce orgasmo su voz lo regresó a la realidad.

—Jin, porfavor, necesito sentirte dentro de mi…— T/n rogó tan dulcemente a sus oídos que al Padre le fue imposible no obedecer sus plegarias.

Le dio unas últimas lamidas en su entrada y clítoris antes incorporarse y colocarse de nuevo entre sus piernas sintiendo como las manos de T/n volaban hacia los botones de su cuello y camisa, comenzándolos a soltar desesperadamente y él hizo lo mismo con su pantalón, apretando su mandíbula con fuerza ante la dolorosa fricción de la tela de su boxer cuando finalmente liberó su miembro; viéndolo salir disparado hacia arriba completamente duro e hinchado, tuvo que reprimir una risita al verla relamerse los labios ante la vista y se apresuró a separar aún más sus piernas, siseando cuando apoyó su miembro contra su entrada para comenzar a deslizar la punta de su pene entre sus pliegues, cubriéndola con su humedad y haciéndole saber cuán grande era y cuán profundo estaría dentro de ella.

El Padre se inclinó sobre su cuerpo, volviendo a tomarla por su cuello para encontrar sus labios una vez más, jugando con su lengua y mordisqueando su labio inferior para amortiguar su gemido cuando comenzó a empujar de a poco la punta de su pene a través de su entrada, chistando suavemente al sentir su cuerpo estremecerse mientras su interior se apretaba imponente alrededor de su duro eje.

—Es… demasiado grande…— T/n jadeó luchando por asimilarlo, y le resultó difícil formar esas palabras en su estado sin aliento sintiendo su miembro empujarse contra cada parte de ella, hambriento de más, alentando a su interior a aceptarlo más profundamente, y el Padre Seokjin gimió en tu boca, con una voz ronca y áspera.

—Puedes tomarlo, paloma…— El padre siseó ajustando sus manos en tu cintura con fuerza, ayudándote a aceptar su tamaño mientras seguía empujándose dentro, hundiéndose cada vez mas hasta la base de su pene, gruñendo cuando terminó de empujar los últimos centímetros de su longitud dentro de ella.— Joder, te sientes increíble…

Aquel gruñido poco después de tocar fondo hizo que a T/n se le cortara la respiración, la quemadura dentro de ella hizo que su cabeza se confundiera de felicidad mientras luchaba por ajustarse a su tamaño, y aunque el Padre Seokjin estuviera un tanto abrumado con la estrechez que lo rodeaba, fue lo que lo animó a comenzar a marcar un ritmo lento y constante dentro y fuera de ella, hundiendo su rostro en su cuello, volviendo a salpicar toda su piel con besos húmedos y calientes.

T/n se sentía en el cielo con cada una de sus embestidas profundas y duras, sus sueños y pensamientos pecaminosos nunca lograrían compararse a la realidad de estar siendo follada por el Padre Seokjin, todo se sentía mil veces mejor, su polla la llenaba de una forma tan deliciosa y los gemidos que goteaban como miel de sus labios la dejaban delirando por más, sus uñas se deslizaban y dejaban marcas rojizas por su pecho y hombros, el sudor que caía por sus sienes hasta su cuello lo hacían ver incluso más tentador y la hinchazón de sus labios la hacían querer volver a besarlo.

A tientas extendió una mano para sostenerse de algo, cualquier cosa, y cuando su mano agarró el crucifijo que colgaba de su cuello, tiró con fuerza de él como si fuera una correa, acercando al Padre hacia ella viéndolo lanzarle una sonrisita siniestra justo antes de besarlo con fuerza, gimiendo contra sus labios cuando sus embestidas se volvieron brutales y profundas, su pelvis chocaba contra sus caderas de una forma tan deliciosa, los sonidos húmedos y lascivos de su polla hundiéndose una y otra vez en su coño llenaban sus oídos y la dejaban delirando sintiendo como el nudo apretado de su orgasmo amenazaba con romperse en cualquier momento.

—Oh Dios, Jin estoy tan cerca…— T/n lloriqueó contra él sintiendo su aliento caliente y rápido contra la piel de su cuello, haciéndola sentir cada vez mas humeda.— Voy a correrme… —advirtió con su respiración atascada en la garganta y con los latidos de su corazón martillando en su pecho con fuerza.

—Hazlo, paloma…— El Padre gimió sin aliento acariciando su mejilla caliente y luego la comisura de su labio, deleitándose con su simple belleza en su punto máximo de placer justo antes de volver a atrapar su pecho entre sus dientes, sintiéndola removerse y arquear su espalda aún más contra su boca mientras seguía chupando y mordisqueando con fuerza su endurecido pezón una y otra vez.

En algún punto de la desastrosa mente de T/n esperaba que eso dejara marcas en su piel, entonces, podrían servirle como un recordatorio de a quién le pertenecía, la pelvis del Padre se acercó a su centro cada vez más errático y desesperado, todo su cuerpo rebota sobre su pene, el ardor en sus piernas mezclado con la fuerza de sus embestidas la estaba empujando a un punto sin retorno, al borde del límite, y fue justo ahí cuando lo sintió arrastrar una mano por su cuerpo sudoroso hasta llegar al centro de sus piernas para comenzar a frotar su botón de placer con su pulgar una y otra vez antes de ordenar entre dientes.

—Correte para mí, paloma.

Y eso fue suficiente para que su orgasmo la atravesara como si se tratara de un resplandor celestial, todo su cuerpo tembló en sus brazos sintiendo como los espasmos de placer la hacían sentirse finalmente llena y satisfecha, su interior se apretó con fuerza alrededor de su miembro, aprisionándolo dentro de ella y cubriéndolo con su orgasmo, haciéndolo murmurar su nombre una y otra vez, como si se tratara de una oración divina.

Ni siquiera pudo evitar lloriquear por lo bajo cuando el Padre Seokjin besó suavemente su frente, sus mejillas y luego sus labios para salir de a poco de su interior, toda ella se sintió de nuevo vacía y buscó la mirada del Padre cuando se puso de pie frente a ella, sus ojos recorrieron su torso desnudo y cubierto de un sudor reluciente, siguiendo hasta su miembro aun duro y pesado que la hizo suspirar, y cuando lo escuchó hablar todo su cuerpo recibió una corriente eléctrica.

—Ven aqui, paloma.— Ordenó con su voz ronca y profunda al mismo tiempo que su mano bombeaba de a poco su pene, y su mirada se oscureció aún más al ver lo rápido que T/n se arrodillo frente a él, como si hubiera querido esto desde un principio.

Sus ojitos brillantes lo saludaron desde abajo, mirándolo con total adoracion cuando enredó sus dedos en su cabello alborotado para guiar su boca hacia su pelvis, gruñendo por lo bajo cuando la calidez de su boca y lengua envolvieron la punta de su pene; primero dándole una pequeña lamida, sonriendo cuando lo vio suspirar temblorosamente antes de tomar una porción completa en su boca sin dejar de mirarlo a los ojos.

El Padre Seokjin echó su cabeza hacia atrás y sus labios se abrieron en gesto de puro placer mientras seguía sintiendo como los labios de su paloma tomaban todo de él cómo una buena niña, su respiración se cortó cuando la sintió elevar una de sus manos para envolverla en su grosor y comenzar a masajear las partes que no alcanzaba con su boca, y cuando abrió sus ojos mirando hacia abajo, la imagen fue lo mas caliente que alguna vez se llegó a imaginar, el agarre en su cabello se apretó con fuerza y su respiración se agitó sintiendo que estaba a punto de perderse, y su teoría fue cierta, porque cuando sintió a T/n lamer y chupar su uretra fue que se derramó en su boca con un audible gruñido.

Le tomó unos segundos recuperarse de todo lo que acababa de pasar, sintiendo su pecho agitado y tratando de regular su respiración acelerada, y cuando finalmente miro hacia abajo ni siquiera pudo luchar contra la sonrisa de orgullo que se formó en su rostro, viendo sus ojitos brillantes y como unas gotas de su semen escurrían de la comisura de su labio, haciéndolo elevar su pulgar para reunirlas y volver a introducirlo en su boca, riendo entre dientes al sentir como su lengua lamía su pulgar degustando las últimas gotas hasta dejarlo limpio.

—Creo que tus pecados han sido perdonados.— Dijo suavemente despues de unos segundos, el olor a sexo se mezclaba con el incienso que se filtraba desde el santuario y sonrió al notar su mirada confundida.

—Pero Padre, si mis pecados han sido perdonados, ¿Por qué sigo pensando en ti? —T/n preguntó volviendo a su actitud inocente y volviendo a usar su título después de todo lo que había pasado, viéndolo reír por lo bajo mientras se inclinaba para estar a su nivel, sus mejillas fueron aplastadas con una de sus manos antes de recibir un febril beso en sus labios.

—Bueno, quizás ahora yo soy el pecado con el que deberás cargar, paloma.

N/A: Buenoo hace calor, no? Si asi lo sientes será mejor que sigas al siguiente oneshot de este pequeño maratón pupi! Espero que este gustando mucho estas historias titis, las estaré leyendo y díganme cual está siendo su favorita. ♡ next

taglist: @guvgguk @lessuwu @cometaart @AnnieKCV @darysnowflwr @nunubly @choco-linny @aavacaf @DannaHaz @wtffktt7 @minmin-cat @18fernanda @ariggukie @ Katherine Murillo @holiwui032 @lizxz @onixbae02 @piligt @youtis @tessacereza

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hueseok · 2 months ago

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can’t stop thinking about husband!seokjin whose love language is annoying you yet making sure that he still gets a good laugh out of you in the end.

and so even though he’s aware that you get embarrassed by big gestures, it doesn’t stop him from going all out for your wedding anniversaries—going as far as surprising you at your company building with a huge bouquet of flowers that might be taller than you, thus creating a perfect scenario that your co-workers will no doubt gossip about for the next weeks to come.

you were in the middle of your lunch break when he texted you, saying that he was downstairs and that he prepared something that you’ll like. initially thinking that he was only going to give you homemade food since no doubt cooking is one of his best suits, you were surprised when you came down to the lobby and saw him with a big ass bouquet.

passersby were gushing, some people who knew him by face were connecting the dots when you appeared, and as if the item in his hands were not enough to draw attention, he just had to wear the flashiest maroon co-ords that screamed wealth.

not to mention made him look extremely good.

you think it’s the sole reason why you aren’t as annoyed as you usually would by what he’s doing right now.

“of course,” you say, faking an embarrassed expression as you approach him. “of course you’d know where to buy a giant bouquet.”

seokjin grins and does the automatic thing of kissing you on the lips the moment you’re near enough. “happy anniversary, baby,” he says.

your mouth can’t help but curve up into a grin. “happy anniversary, babe.” you place a gentle hand on his cheek to bring his face down once more, pecking his lips. “thank you for going here. i’m sorry i couldn’t file a leave. i would have if only—”

“you didn’t have to pitch to an important client.” he finishes for you, nodding in understanding. “it’s alright. i still get to have you all for myself tomorrow and the weekend, right?”

“definitely.” you confirm.

at the short silence, seokjin is prompted to hand out the bouquet to you but you appear hesitant in taking it from his possession. he notices it—laughs at it, really—but doesn’t tease you further, aware that even though it’ll be a pain to bring his gift upstairs back in your office, you wouldn’t want to make him feel like his efforts were not appreciated by not receiving it.

you catch him gazing at you fondly, and reading what’s on his mind, you playfully flash a glare.

“i’m only letting you off the hook because i love you. you got that?” you say.

seokjin chuckles, squeezing your cheeks and kissing you properly on the mouth, ignoring the thought that some might see the rather public display of affection.

“i love you too, my ____.”

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devotedfem · 6 months ago

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∞ Angel

Synopsis: You always felt protected by your sweet guardian Angel, the issue was, that Seokjin wasn't as pure as you think. Not when you made him fall from grace.

K. Seokjin x f. reader

Genre: guardian angel au | yander-ish

Tags: angel Seokjin, overprotectiveness, sassy Seokjin, captivity, fluff if you squint, yander-ish, angel turning demon.

Patreon for extra content

From the series; otherworldly.

Navigation Masterlist.

The first time you saw him you were 7. You opened your tired sleepy eyes and watch Seokjin with curiosity, getting out of your bed to walk towards him, he widened his eyes with shock at your little steps coming to him near the window.

“Why do you always follow me, mister?” You frowned and pouted your lips, crossing your arms.

“You can see me?” He stared down at you with lifted brows. This shouldn’t happen.

You hummed nodding, smiling big at him, and inviting him to your room to play with you until you fell asleep.

Back then you were so smart, you noticed you were the only one that could watch him. So it became your little secret, because who would believe you if you say you can see your guardian angel and talk to him. You don’t want to look crazy so you never tell anyone.

You only talk back to Seokjin when you two are alone.

And years passed, he became literally your best friend. You grow fond of Seokjin, of his dramas, his sassiness and his protectiveness towards you. Always looking over you like a hawk, not letting anything hurt you. And you knew that guardian angels do that, but sometimes it feels that Seokjin is being a little bit extreme.

“Seokjin come on, it’s just a college party. Stop being so dramatic,” you said rolling your eyes.

You never go to parties because of him, at first you obey Seokjin when he said that there’s a lot of dangers out there, but then you got tired of his attempts of overprotecting you.

You’re an adult now, you should go out and see the world. It was Seokjin’s job to not let anything happen to you anyway. Also, you weren’t stupid, you know what’s dangerous and what it’s not.

“Excuse me,” he gasped offended, floating towards you, “you’re not going to that party, missy. You don’t know how dangerous those parties are, there are a lot of bad things that could happen to you. So don’t be ungrateful when I’m trying to protect you,” he said in a low warning, standing in front of you and staring down at you with his darkening gaze.

You gulped feeling overwhelmed, he sometimes doesn’t act like an angel at all.

“Oh my god! Let me live my life! If something bad happen to me so it be, let me experience those things like normal people do. You have nothing to worry about, please!” you shouted, running your hands through your hair in exasperation.

Seokjin pressed his lips together into a thin line. His blank gaze woke chills on you. You never saw him this serious before.

“You are mine to protect, whether you like it or not. And if I say you won’t go to that party, you won’t,” he growled close your face, gripping your shoulders and making you flinch with genuine worry and fear.

Who does he think he is?

You wiggle away from his grip, with flames of fury rising to your chest.

“I’ll go,” you challenged him with your chin up, turning around towards your door ready to go to that party.

And suddenly, the temperature of the room dropped, freezing you.

Seokjin turned you around roughly, and your lips parted with surprise at the sight of him dropping to the floor for the first time. His feets touching the floor, and his tall frame towered over you.

You watch with deep horror how his wings turned pitch black. You tremble with fear, trying to step back from him but he didn’t let you, he snarled and gripped you near his chest. You watched how his big black wings wrapped you two, darkening your world.

You whimpered with fear, clinging to Seokjin’s body because even though he’s the cause of your fear, he’s your safe place. The one you run to when you’re scared.

He shushed you sweetly, hugging you tightly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you with me to a place where nothing will ever hurt you.” He promised against your ear, his voice sounding darker than before.

And he did take you down with him. Down, down and down. A place where you can’t see anything but him.

Taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @devilzliaison

#kim seokjin #seokjin bts #seokjin x you #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin scenarios #bangtan fic #bangtan fanfic #bts x reader #yandere #yandere seokjin #yandere x reader #bts imagines #bts jin #bts fanfic

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bts-0t-7 · 1 year ago

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BTS | KSJ | FIC RECS

The Collection of Seokjinnie. Hehe... I hope you guys enjoy the fics as much as I did. Don't forget to tell the authors your appreciation too - whether is it a like, a comment, or a follow - they'll be glad to hear from you 😊

Tonight, @liveyun (fluff , students au , romance)

Take you down, @lookingforluna (smut, fluff, romance, idol!au, established relationship!)

To kill a king, @foxymoxynoona (Historical Fantasy World, political conspiracy, romance)

Sit. Stay, @daechwitatamic (fluff, s2l, neighbors!au, baby angst for a quick minute?, smut)

Apples in February, @kth1 (Fluff, Smut, Angst, 21+, Werewolf!AU, One Shot)

Winter Whiskey, @kth1 (Established Relationship, Fluff, Smut, 18+)

Last November, @kithtaehyung (angst, smut, exes to lovers au)

The Obsidian Pearl, @angelicyoongie (yandere, descriptions of death/blood/violence)

Internal Conflicts, @yoongiofmine (Fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, step brother (not related, not raised together, not weird))

Paths Crossed, @borathae (Fantasy, s2l!AU, Romance, Smut)

#kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x oc #kim seokjin x oc #seokjin x reader #seokjin x y/n #seokjin x you #kim seokjin x y/n #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #seokjin scenarios #seokjin angst

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yoonia · 5 months ago

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Ever A Never After: Act 2 (2)

⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Rom-com ⟶ Word count | 16,755 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; slow burn, mentions of curses, black magic, misunderstandings, alcohol mention. ⟶ Author’s note | As you may have heard, I had to take a break due to grief, so this took a while to finish editing. Still roughly edited because I couldn’t postpone posting this part a lot longer, but I hope you can still enjoy this.

⟶ Story Masterlist: Ever A Never After | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢

⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi | Music companion

⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 2. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔐𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔠

The first thing you feel when you wake up is the abundance of warmth.

A similar kind of warmth that usually welcomes you each time you embrace the morning.

But something is missing. There is no breeze flowing through the window. Not a sound of birds chirping or leaves rustling with the wind. And there is no sound of your grandmother moving downstairs, humming or muttering to herself as she lists the things she needs to do for the day.

You wish to wake up completely, to see what is wrong. Perhaps the weather is terrible this morning that everything has become so quiet. But your body is weighed down with exhaustion rolling through your body, and your eyes are too heavy for you to open. For the first time, you find no desire to leave your bed, opting to give in to the strong desire to go back to sleep and cuddle deeper into the comforting warmth.

But then the soreness comes. You can feel it all over you—from your ankles, up to your legs, your back—before the pounding in your head starts.

“Ow—” You reach up, touching your temple and pressing at the pulsing pain. By moving, you feel the weight of a blanket covering your body and the tight bodice of your dress pressing on your skin.

You try to stretch, hoping to push away this heavy weariness and force yourself to wake up. Only to find yourself rolling off the bed and falling on the floor with a hard thump.

“Oh, dear!”

With a groan, you push yourself up the floor and blink the sleep out of your eyes. And yet, looking around only makes you feel even more confused.

“Where,” you whisper to yourself as you glance around, “where am I?”

You start to panic. Because this place looks nothing like your bedroom. Pushing away the blanket, you slowly rise to your feet to have a better look around the room. The place that you slept on seems to be the small daybed attached to the window. The curtains are drawn close, but there are still some streaks of sunlight coming through the seams.

Being so close to the window and covered in a blanket would explain why you were woken up feeling so warm. Looking down, you see yourself in your wedding dress. Seeing how the white has changed colours—something in the mix of grey and muddy beige, thanks to all the dirt, dust, and grime you had gotten on yourself the day before—and the tattered hem looking worse under the lights, everything starts coming back to you again.

Oh, that’s right, you muse to yourself as you fall back down on the daybed. This is his house.

Your saviour.

That was what you called him after he caught you from that replica of the castle. The replica which held no magic at all, unlike the castle which held more magic than you have ever encountered throughout your whole life. You doubt there is even any magic here—perhaps except for the metal carriages that you saw driving down the roads without horses and the lights that came from the buildings and towers you saw last night.

You look down and wiggle your toes. The pretty heels that you worn for the wedding had been soiled so badly and your ankles were strained with over-tiredness that it took Ah-ri’s help to get it off your feet. Your cheeks grow warm as you recall how the little girl fussed over them, and then how she nearly cried when she saw how swollen your feet had become, making you feel embarrassed just thinking about it.

Accepting your new reality, you look around once again, taking in the room. There is not much furniture placed here, but the bedroom looks luxurious and cosy, and it makes you feel safe. Aside from the daybed, there is a bed right in front of you—which you have apparently missed when you first came into the room. It seems bigger than the bed that you have at home, covered in fresh sheets in the colour of soft pink. The wooden frame and the bedrest are painted white, unlike your bed at home which is made of oak and left without any paint. Two bedside tables are set on either side of the bed, each one adorned with small lamps that were left unlit. You are curious to see their odd shapes, even more so when you realise that they don’t resemble any of the oil lamps you have normally seen at home.

There are two doors attached to the room. One was the door from which you entered the room, while the other, a much smaller one which is left ajar, shows you the inside of an empty closet. Glancing at the bed, you find a pile of clothes placed on top of it. They are quite strange looking, you realise, as you take a look closer. Not a dress nor a shirt, but two pieces of clothing items that feel soft under the tips of your fingers when you reach out to touch them.

The change of clothes, you wonder with a smile, recalling what your saviour said about providing you with something to change into once you are out of your ruined dress. I suppose I fell asleep last night before changing.

And your saviour had chosen to let you rest. Could it have been your saviour who left the blanket behind? To keep you warm, perhaps?

Imagining the kind man who smiled at you warmly last night when he welcomed you into his home makes your heart flutter. The warmth that you felt when you woke up returns, only it feels softer, growing from inside your chest before expanding all over your body.

Unfolding the clothes, you simply tilt your head, not sure how you are going to change out of this tight dress and into these—confusing-looking pieces of clothing. Thinking about how to get out of the dress only reminds you of the morning when you first had to put it on. You had the help of your grandmother and your little friends to be able to put on this dress properly without ruining the delicate details on the skirt and the trails.

Sighing to yourself, you decide not to wallow in regret or sadness, and choose to embrace your day instead.

After laying out the pieces of clothing—the top, the bottom trousers, and the fluffy towel—on the bed, you return to the window, opening the curtains to allow more sunlight in and get a view of the outside world.

Everything looks different in the morning compared to the night before. The bright, sparkling lights are no longer visible, but there are still colourful ornaments that appear in some places, and you can finally get to see the beach more clearly. Everything aside from the beachside and the ocean looks like nothing more but tiny dots from the distance, but it is such an amazing sight to see, as you don’t normally get to see the widespread ocean and its glowing white sand back home as much as you wanted to.

The sun is bright and warm, with no trace of the rain which had fallen during the toughest time you had to endure.

At least the rain was quite refreshing, you wonder as you recall feeling as if everything that was unsettling you the other day—the fear of not being able to return home, feeling lost and powerless after finding yourself stranded in a strange land—all melted the moment you felt the rain drops falling all over you.

You smile at the thought of breathing in the scents of fresh soil and damp leaves that you often find through the forest or drifting into your bedroom after rainfalls, and you cannot help but think about the comfort that you often find from it.

A spark of idea comes to your mind right away. Maybe if I can just—

Finding the lock on the window, you unlatch it and pry the window open, allowing the morning breeze to come in. You hope that breathing in the fresh air might help you feel more refreshed. But you immediately find that you have made the wrong decision, as taking in a deep breath only causes you to have a coughing fit.

“Oh, my!” you gasp, taking a step back to get away from the foul air. The air you breathed is too dry, filled with dust and smoke and not a single hint of the fresh air that you would normally enjoy in the morning. It takes a while before you get used to it, before you finally smell the ocean breeze that is beginning to drift in.

“Well, I suppose things are a bit—different here,” you muse with a sigh, noticing how sparse the trees are around the house.

Furrowing your brows, you notice how restricted it feels to be in your dress, the fabric has been growing heavier as it has gotten dirty, and your body feels to be covered in grime. The warm breeze isn’t helping either, as it only escalates the discomfort that you are feeling. You feel the desire to strip out of the dress to feel better, yet you doubt that you can get out of the dress on your own.

Once again, your mind wanders to your little friends. Your companions and loyal helpers who would always come to help whenever you are in need.

“Is there someone you can call—?”

You recall what your saviour said last night about calling someone from home. You only realise now that you haven’t even tried calling to see if it would work at all. Trying to be positive despite your circumstances, you look up to the sky and wonder if your voice can reach someone from back home—your animal friends from the forest, perhaps—so they will be able to know where you are.

You have done it once when you sang in the forest one day and birds came to you, answering your call and singing along to your song.

Won’t it happen again now, if you try it?

“Maybe if I sing something loud and sincere enough, then the little birds will be able to hear me. Maybe they will hear my call,” you wonder out loud, reassuring yourself before doubt ever has the chance to sink in. “That’s right. Let’s try it. It won’t hurt to try and call them.”

Taking a deep inhale of breath, avoiding to breathe in the smoke and dust this time, you muster some energy to sing, calling your lovely friends that might be able to help. With your heart beating in your chest, hope blooming, you begin to sing.

“Good morning, friends, it's a brand new day…

With friends beside us, we’ll find our way…”

Wind blows, warmth filters through the window, the faint sound of the waves reaches you, yet there is nothing else returning your song.

“Together we’ll share the morning light…

Hand in hand, everything feels right…”

You refuse to give up, believing that all you ever need is patience. Perhaps if your friends won’t be able to hear you, some new friends would, and they can help you find a way to solve your problems, to help you find the way back home.

“Good morning, good morning, the day’s begun…

Together we’ll shine, our hearts as one…”

The loud sound of a horn from one of those metallic carriages blares through the air, shocking you, sending you falling back to the daybed. Your heart is still racing as you sit there in silence, hearing the faint sound of the carriage driving down the road below. You wait for a moment longer, drowning in silence.

Then another moment passes, and you still hear no answer to your song.

“I knew it. Nobody can hear me calling them from here,” you murmur to yourself, having no choice but to accept reality.

They say magic is so powerful that it can reach anyone no matter the obstacle. But your magic clearly has no power here. Your voice and your song cannot reach anyone—far and near—to give you the answer you need.

You look up at the sky with despair. A day has passed until you encounter a new morning, and you are still stranded in this strange land. Still with no sign or hope that you might be able to return home.

Leaning back in the daybed, you rest against the window as any hope you ever had begins to wither. The breath you exhale is soft. Weary. Lonely.

You miss the sounds of the forest—the birdsongs echoing through the thickets welcoming the rise of mornings, the loud chitters coming from your little forest friends as they greet you at the start of the day, the rustling leaves and swaying branches at the first morning breeze, and the soft humming voice of your grandmother as she paces out into the garden to tend to her flowers and crops.

Here, the sound of waves coming from the fair distance is calming, yet it still feels foreign to your ears. And there are too many other foreign sounds that your mind is having a hard time processing still; the voices from the crowd of people in the streets and the beach not too far away that are too loud this early in the morning; the rumbling sounds of the metal carriages going up and down the cobalt-grey roads, always accompanied by those god-awful sounds of horns blowing through the soiled air.

A wince comes from you when another sound of a horn blows through the morning from somewhere far away, followed by shouts and bellows of laughter. A reminder of how strange this place is. Thinking about it makes you feel so hollow inside.

You miss your forest friends.

You miss your grandmother.

You miss home.

And when you close your eyes, you realise how much you miss seeing the Prince. And it scares you to realise that you are having a hard time remembering the beautiful smile that he gave you the last time you met.

Shaking your head, you refuse to lose hope. There might still be a chance for you to find your way home, slim though it may seem.

Opening your eyes, you look out into the distance, at the ocean that is glowing under the sun. In silence, you promise yourself to hold on to the last sliver of hope that you feel as tightly as you can, refusing to give up so easily.

You promise yourself that you will find a way home. Back home to your family. Back to your Prince.

To your happily ever after.

Downstairs, Ah-ri has been humming her own tune as she is helping her father prepare breakfast. At the sound of your voice, she immediately stops—both the singing, and the little hands that have been working to mix the pancake batter—and looks up with a gasp.

“Did you hear that, Daddy?” She turns to Seokjin, smiling wide. “The Princess is singing.”

Seokjin stops to listen, and sure enough, he can hear the faint sound of someone singing from upstairs. Creasing his brows, Seokjin quickly recognises it as your voice and begins wondering if this is another quirky thing of yours. To be singing about the morning when you had just woken up.

Shaking his head, Seokjin silently chastises himself for bringing this upon himself. He only sighs and forces a smile as he turns away from the coffee machine to look at his daughter. “I hear it. Why don’t you stay here and I’ll go check on our guest to see if she’s ready for breakfast?”

“But I want to see,” Ah-ri complains, pouting. She knows that she can easily melt Seokjin’s heart when she does this, but he forces himself to ignore it for once and shakes his head.

“You can have her sing for you later,” he convinces Ah-ri and strokes her hair when she begins sulking. “Besides, you have some work to do, don’t you?” He points at the mixing bowl in her hands and says, “Keep mixing the batter so we can have the pancake done soon.”

“Fine,” she says, huffing. “But remember, you promised.”

“I promise,” Seokjin says with a chuckle. He playfully ruffles Ah-ri’s hair to tease her before heading up the stairs, following the sound of your voice that is slowly beginning to make him feel warm inside, for reasons he cannot understand.

Soon, the singing stops. He can faintly hear you murmuring to yourself, and he doesn’t have to see you to know that your singing didn’t help you feel ecstatic about the morning.

Standing by the door, Seokjin comes to a halt. He suddenly feels hesitant to knock. It doesn’t even matter if this is his home, and you are simply a guest. He can sense that you are having a moment and he hates having to break it.

But Ah-ri is waiting downstairs, and he knows that she will be hungry soon. And if he wants to hear the full story from you, this will be the right time to pry it out of you. If cannot do it himself, then perhaps Ah-ri would be able to do it later once she sees you. He has noticed how you seem to have a soft spot for his daughter so quickly right after you met her, so he knows that he can put that to his advantage.

Noticing the silence in the room, Seokjin takes a deep breath, counts to three, and then knocks the door gently. “Hello? Is everything okay?”

He hears a faint sigh from the other side of the door before your voice is heard. “Yes, everything is fine.”

Soft, small, and delicate. Seokjin has never heard such a voice, and he never felt such a strong urge to protect and calm someone so badly as he does now upon hearing such a voice. He shakes his head and laughs at himself, wondering how it is possible for him to care for someone so much, when he had just met you.

Clearing his throat, he calls out when you make no move to open the door for him. “Can I come in?”

“Oh,” you sound surprised. He hears shuffling voices from the room, followed by a soft thud, just as you answer, “Yes, of course. Please, come on.”

Seokjin carefully opens the door and finds you sitting—on the floor. The skirt of your dress are outspread around you, making it seem as if you are drowning in the fabric. The flustered look you are showing tells him more than he needs to know.

“Why are you on the floor?” he asks, stiffing a chuckle, picturing how you must have slipped or tripped in your own dress when you tried to open the door for him.

“Oh, nothing,” you nervously laugh, “Just relaxing and enjoying the morning.”

“I see,” he says, nodding. His eyes find the pile of clothes he left on the bed. All stretched out over the still made-up bed. “You’ve found the clothes,” he says as he reaches out, offering his hand to help you back up to your feet. You mutter a soft, “Thank you,” before he asks again, “Do you have a problem changing out of that dress?”

You look startled, and Seokjin cannot resist the smile on his face. “I have a daughter who loves wearing princess dresses every now and then, so I know how hard it is to get out of them. Especially one as intricate as the one you’re wearing.”

You look away with a shy smile but slowly nod. “Yes, I was, but I think I can figure it out somehow.” Looking down at yourself, at your tattered dress, you visibly grimace. “Forgive me for looking unpresentable, I am not quite myself at the moment.”

Seokjin nods. “Would you like to take a bath first? Ah-ri and I are preparing breakfast downstairs. It’s our—we always have breakfast together in the morning and I was going to ask you to join us, but you can take your time to clean up first so you’ll feel more comfortable.”

“Yes, please,” you answer with a relieved sigh. “I can’t even remember the last time I had a proper meal, or have any kind of food at all,” you muse with a chuckle, which only worries Seokjin further. “But I do feel like I must clean up before getting any food. It wouldn’t be proper of me to join you and the little princess if I am in such a mess.”

Seokjin’s lips curl to a smile. “There’s a joint bathroom in this floor, and it’s small, so you’ll be sharing with my daughter. Is that all right with you?”

“That would be lovely.”

Nodding, Seokjin reaches down to help carry your change of clothes for you and guides you out of the bedroom. The bathroom is right across the corridor, lodged between the stairs leading to the upper floor and Ah-ri’s bedroom.

“Here you go,” Seokjin says as he opens the door to the small bathroom, ushering you in.

He stays at the doorway as you step inside the bathroom, eyes wide as you take a look around.

As you stand at the center of the room, the bathroom almost looks like a tight squeeze. Your wedding dress and your entire presence taking up the space in Seokjin’s eyes, something that he finds amusing. He follows your gaze, trying to see the room through your eyes.

The light beige coloured tiles on the center wall used to make this room feel vibrant, a vintage look that made it appear fancy in his less than humble home. Against your white dress—despite it being soiled and slightly losing its perfection—the colour on the wall looks muted and dull.

On your right, stands the narrow shower box. The tainted glass door is fairly new, recently replaced from the old vintage one that came with the house when Seokjin first bought the place. Right next to it is the small, old-fashioned tub, standing on claw feet rising from the floor; the only piece that remained from the place, only because Ah-ri has grown fond of it.

The size is enough to fit the little girl, hopefully until she is a teenager, but not big enough to fit the entire length of his body. Looking at it now, he worries that it might be a bit too tight fit for you should you need to lie in it to relax. Probably just enough for you to sit in with your knees tucked to your chest, which Seokjin cannot imagine it to be comfortable for you.

The sink is on your left, standing from one wall to the other. A white porcelain sink over a wooden cabinet, with jars and bottles of beauty products that Ah-ri has always insisted to keep in stock for unexpected guests. Your gaze rises to the mirror above the sink—the circular fixture with a golden frame, one that Seokjin found in a vintage shop to fill the room with—and a sharp gasp leaves your lips.

“Oh, my,” you cry out, looking pained at the sight of your own reflection.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I—oh ,dear.” You start to panic and look away. “Forgive me, Sir. I wasn’t aware that I’ve been looking so improper. This is—oh, heavens, how embarrassing.”

Biting his smile, Seokjin breathes a sigh of relief. He had, for a moment, thought that you may have seen something so awful, or feel pained. It might sound bad to laugh, yet he is thankful that you are simply shocked after looking at what kind of state you have been in.

“It’s fine. Anyone else would’ve been in the same condition if they had experienced what you’ve been through. You said it yourself that it was a long day yesterday,” Seokjin reassures you, until you visible grow more relax. “Take your time to wash up. I’m sure you’ll feel better once you get all those dirt and grime off your skin.”

Your eyes follow him as Seokjin moves to place your change of clothes by the sink, before you turn to look at the bathtub across the room. Seeing that you appear wary, Seokjin feels bad. “The bath is small in here, but you can use my bathroom if you want to use it and soak in, it’s in—”

You cut him with a wave of your hand. “No, that is quite all right. Just as long as I can clean up. I’ve already given you too much trouble, I don’t want to intrude.” Brushing your hands down your skirt, you gently add, “I don’t think it would be proper of me to lie in a bath and soak on my first day, especially when I am to be expected on your breakfast table.”

“It’s fine, really,” Seokjin says with a smile. “But if you insist, then you can use the shower to wash up for now.”

“The shower?” You raise your eyebrows, and it takes Seokjin a moment before realising that you may not have a standing shower where you are from.

“Oh, let me help you,” Seokjin carefully slips inside and opens the shower box. “Here, this is the shower, and you can clean up right here. Let me show you how you can get the water running. I’ve set it up to get the water warm right away, but you can turn it to cold or hot this way,” he says, before he gently explains to you the way to use the shower tap, twisting the tap one way to the other so you can have an idea what to do with it.

He steps back once he is done so you can slip inside. “You can use the products by the sink if you need to. My daughter always reminds me to stack them up in case her aunts or uncles come by.”

You turn to the sink table, looking up at the mirror. Though you are no longer looking at yourself with wide, terrified eyes, there is still a strain in your gaze. A weary look that worries Seokjin further. He wishes to take it away, but he knows that this is all that he can do for you to help.

“This place,” you ask with a soft voice, “This isn’t Andalasia, is it?” Your voice cracks, and Seokjin feels as if there is a crack inside his chest that is forming just as deep as your pain when he hears it. He sees it in your eyes when you look up at him to ask, “What did you call this place again?”

“LA,” Seokjin says, his voice faltering when he sees the light in your eyes growing dim. Dimmer. With more shadows filling your gaze. “Los Angeles”—he clears his throat—”and to answer your question, no, this isn’t Andalasia, and the place that you’re looking for may not have come from anywhere near where we are.”

“I see,” you whisper, and Seokjin can almost see some tears forming at the corner of your eyes. He opens his mouth and takes a step forward, falling prey to the urge to comfort you, to calm you, to heal, anything, when Ah-ri’s voice drifts across the house from the kitchen.

“Daddy! The batter is ready,” she shouts from the kitchen downstairs, “should I heat up the pan? Do you want me to start making the pancakes?”

Seokjin grimaces. You blink, and the shadow of your tears fades when you smile softly at the sound of his little girl. He sighs in relief.

“I should go and check on her before she burns our breakfast,” Seokjin says with a nervous chuckle, stepping outside of the bathroom. But his footsteps feel heavy, almost as if his own body is fighting against him, refusing to leave you be. “I take it you can deal with everything from here? Or should I get Ah-ri up here to help you get out of that?”

You look at him for a moment, confused, as if you have no idea what he is talking about—or perhaps you are still stuck in the sad thought bothering you after accepting that you are far from home—until your hands fall on your skirt. “Oh, that’s right,” you softly gasp, a soft giggle slips out of you as you shyly look up to him. “That’s quite all right, I think I should figure this out myself. I shouldn’t trouble you or the little princess for such a small thing. But thank you for offering, and thank you so much for your help.”

Seokjin nods, lips curling up to a smile, relieved and reassured after hearing the sound of your soft laughter. “Come down the stairs once you’re ready and join us for breakfast.”

“The princess is taking so long.”

Ah-ri has been glancing back at the clock for a while now, ever since Seokjin heard the sound of water running from the bathroom upstairs. The little girl has insisted on waiting for you to come down before diving into her meal, yet Seokjin can tell that she is growing impatient. Pouting, Ah-ri crosses her arms over her chest and glares at her father. “Are you sure you did well showing her around the bathroom?”

Surprised, Seokjin starts laughing, which only makes the girl pout even more. Shaking his head, he finds himself amazed at how the girl always acts as if she is older than her age. He cannot help but find this adorable, but he would never dare say it to her face. Not when she’s acting as if she’s taking control. Like an adult would.

“Of course, I did, sweetheart,” he says, as he crosses his own arms to mimic the little girl, challenging her, “Are you trying to teach your Dad how to treat the guest?”

“You didn’t even want to take her home last night,” Ah-ri complains, scoffing, “if you did a good job hosting the princess, then why is she not coming down yet? The meal is getting cold, and I want to listen to her stories.”

Seokjin lets out a chuckle as he points at Ah-ri’s plate which she prepared herself, filled with pancakes and slices of strawberries and honey on top—her favourite meal. “I told you to start eating if you’re hungry. You didn’t have to wait.”

“But I want to eat with the princess,” the girl whines, and Seokjin has no other choice but to give in.

Seokjin takes another sip of his coffee before rising from his seat, “Why don’t I go up there and see if she’s ready for breakfast?” He picks up an empty plate and hands it over to the girl. “You stay here and plate the food for our special guest, okay?”

“’Kay!”

Soon, the sulking girl is busy setting up a plate of breakfast for you, with a wide grin on her face and soft humming of a tune coming out of her lips. It sounds a bit similar to what you were singing earlier when Seokjin heard you got up, and he wonders if it’s something that you or Ah-ri had heard once from one of those Disney remake movies.

He is halfway up the stairs when the doorbell rings, echoing through his home.

“Damn it,” he groans. Just who in their right mind would come knocking this early in the morning? He wonders. And on the weekends too?

Before he gets to turn back and head towards the door, he hears the quick stomping downstairs as Ah-ri runs across the ground floor while shouting loudly, “It’s okay, Daddy. I’ll get it!”

Seokjin doesn’t respond and continues to walk up the stairs. He notices that the shower has stopped running, but the bathroom door is still closed shut. There is a faint shadow of white mist from the hot shower still slipping out of the bottom of the door, so he knows that you are probably still there.

He gently knocks just as he hears Ah-ri opening the front door. The muted sound of her voice talking to whoever was on the other side of it fades to the background when he hears soft shuffling sounds coming from inside the bathroom.

This seems familiar, he wonders to himself as he recalls this morning incident. “______? Are you still in there? Do you need any help?”

Another shuffling is heard, before your muffled voice calls out. “No, I’m okay. I’ll be right out.”

The next thing he hears is the sound of your footsteps, and for some reason, he begins expecting the sound of a thud, anything that may indicate you falling. Again. Smiling, he steps back from the door just as it opens and you emerge from the bathroom.

The mix of floral scent of the shampoo and the bath soap you used hits him straight in the face that he becomes flustered, barely coherent enough to speak. “Hey, how was the shower?”

Your wide smile appears at the sound of his voice. “Oh, it was marvellous,” you excitedly share as you walk closer to him, “The water felt nice. You have no idea how good it feels to—”

Just as you are rushing towards him, the length of the sweatpants you are now wearing—one that Seokjin realises to late to be too long for you—stretches down, causing you to trip over when the tips of your toes get stuck on the hem. “Oh, goodness!”

Out of instinct, Seokjin immediately rushes to catch you, only for him to fall back. The air is kicked out of his chest as he falls on his back, a deep grunt leaves his mouth when he is hit by your body weight when you fall on top of him.

“I’m so sorry!” you gasp. You try to push yourself up, but Seokjin’s hands find your waist when he feels you falling backward, stopping you before you get hurt. Opening his eyes, he becomes more aware of the situation; how you are now straddling over his stomach, with your legs parted on either side of him; your palms pressing on his chest; your hair falling down, framing your face; his hands resting easily on your waist.

Something about this situation feels compromising, yet his mind is having trouble processing over the shock that his body grows still. The sound of his rapid heartbeat is so loud, drowning the sound of footsteps rushing up the stairs until someone screams across the hallway.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Seokjin turns his head, and grits his teeth. Standing at the end of the hallway is Kira, his girlfriend who has gone missing for the past 24 hours. Her eyes are glaring, her face growing red with rage, and he knows that he has a lot of explaining to do.

A lot of it.

You close your eyes, trying to shut everything down.

And when it doesn’t work, you try to shut your ears. But the noises are too loud. The wall standing between you and the two people shouting at each other in the other room barely helps drown the noises, and your hands aren’t doing much to help either.

“Princess, are you okay?”

A small voice tries to pierce through your thoughts, through your senses that are working hard to block the noises.

There are so many things in this place—this new world—that are completely new to you. So many, that your mind is struggling to protect you from them. You cannot see what is happening in the other room, but the voice of your kind saviour has suddenly changed. He still sounds calm and gentle, but his voice has grown tight and tense, just like one of those times when Poppy got stuck between small branches while she was up to pluck some apples for you and your grandmother.

Annoyance.

Yes, that was the word that she used to describe it. She said most little animals feel that way when they are in peril, or when a larger animal comes to them bringing danger and instilling fear.

But the lady who came earlier when you tripped and fell—causing your saviour to fall back when he was trying to catch your fall—reminds you of something else. Her voice is loud, enough to hurt your ears, just like those dark-cloaked figures you saw back when you were a little girl, slipping into the crowd with Nana to watch an incident which happened downtown. You remember watching those figures speaking with loud voices, screaming, as they were dragged in by the Queen’s knights into Castle Andalasia to be punished for eternity.

“Bad witches hurt your parents. You best stay away from them.”

A cold shiver runs through your body, just as your mind is shaken by a part of your childhood memory which you had somehow forgotten. You feel like running, only that you have no idea where to run to.

“Is everything okay, Princess?” Ah-ri asks again, and her small voice finally breaks through to you, shutting everything completely.

You blink, and all the bad images fade, replaced with the little girl’s pretty face and her wide eyes. “Oh.” A soft gasp leaves your lips, realising too late that you have made the little princess worried about you. After your fall, Seokjin asked you to wait for him in the dining room with Ah-ri while he tends to his guest, yet you have been feeling too disturbed to be speaking to the girl and acting like good company. It makes you feel guilty, so you quickly muster a smile.

“Yes”—you nervously laugh—”I’m quite all right.”

Ah-ri looks at you without a word. It is quite obvious that the little girl doesn’t believe you. Her eyes are filled with worry, until realisation seems to dawn on her when the noises echoing through the house begin to subside and she finally understands. Looking over her shoulder, Ah-ri lets out a deep sigh. “Daddy is always mad when Kira is here.”

Mad? You look at Ah-ri, unable to understand the word. What does that mean?

But hearing the word only brings up a different memory from when you were little. You can almost hear Nana’s voice from back then, when she apologetically said, “I’m not mad at you, my sweet angel.”

You never understood the expression and what it meant, and you cannot even remember why your grandmother would say something like that. But any thought of the past fades when silence suddenly falls in the house. The air quickly changes when Seokjin and the lady stop talking. It feels peaceful enough to make you feel calmer, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Is Kira a friend?”

Ah-ri furrows her brows and shakes her head. “She’s not my friend. Daddy calls her ‘a special friend’ but I know that it means she’s his girlfriend, even if he won’t admit it.”

“A—special friend?”

The little girl nods. “Yes, that’s what—”

The sound of footsteps coming closer to the dining room cuts her off. You turn as Seokjin enters the room, the lady—his guest—walking close behind. She is looking down when she enters, partially hiding her face, yet you can still see the frown on her face—a look that makes you feel uncomfortable—which fades the moment she lifts her face.

“I’m sorry to keep your girls waiting,” Seokjin apologises the moment he arrives. His kind smile remains the same, even when he looks slightly exhausted. “_______, I’m sorry. You must’ve been surprised. This is Kira. She didn’t mean to yell at you earlier.”

The lady who is with him, Kira, throws a quick glance at Seokjin with a sharp look that brings back a cold shiver on your skin. Worrying that it might frighten Seokjin or the little girl, you immediately rise from your seat and offer your hand to her. Something tells you that you should start apologising so you can fix the situation.

“Hello, my name is ______. I’m sorry for all of this. I truly never meant to intrude, but I promise I’m not here to cause any trouble,” you nervously explain. Kira doesn’t show much reaction until you carefully add, “Mr. Seokjin here is only helping until I can find my way home. I promise it won’t be long. I do have a wedding to get back to.”

Kira’s eyes grow wide at the mention of a wedding. She opens her mouth to speak, only to have Ah-ri interrupt her by saying, “_______ is my guest, Aunt Kira.”

The look in Kira’s eyes softens when she looks at Ah-ri, and it remains that way when she looks at you. “Right. That’s fine. Jin explained to me everything and, um—” She turns to Ah-ri. “Ari,” she gently says, with a cooing tone that people normally use to speak to a baby, which draws Ah-ri’s brows to crease deeply. “I’m so sorry I missed your recital yesterday. I came bearing gifts and hoping that maybe I could make it up to you with an ice cream date. What do you say?”

You look down as Kira reaches out, handing out some gifts which you failed to notice earlier; a small bouquet of white flowers; a small box that carries a sweet scent, like chocolate; and a small bundle wrapped in red paper. Ah-ri looks hesitant and glances at her father before finally accepting the gifts.

“Thank you,” she murmurs softly as she takes the small trinkets in her tiny hands. “I think I want to stay home with ________,” she says, her eyes flicking towards you. “But thank you for the flowers.”

Kira looks a bit sad, making you feel even more guilty. Before you can do anything to cheer her up, Seokjin seems to notice and gently rubs Kira’s back. “Why don’t you stay and join us for breakfast?” Seokjin offers her, and for a moment, Kira appears to be considering it.

“That’s okay. I was actually planning to invite you guys for breakfast, and then get ice cream with Ari later,” Kira explains with a smile. “I was also hoping that you can join me and my friends today. They’ll be around for a few days and I offered them a tour—”

“That’s so sudden,” Seokjin quickly says, his voice reminds you of the ‘annoyance’ you felt from him earlier. “You can see that I have a guest and it would be hard to find someone to watch Ari so suddenly. On the weekend, no less. You’re not expecting her to join you and your friends, are you?” Seokjin shakes his head. “You should know no by now that making sudden plans like this doesn’t always work.”

Kira suddenly bursts out laughing. “Don’t hate people for knowing how to have fun,” she teases Seokjin, yet there is something in her voice that makes you tense. It quickly disappears when the lady exhales deeply. “I better go,” she says, turning to Ah-ri. “I’ll see you Monday when I drive you to school?”

“Yeah, okay,” Ah-ri mutters, barely loud enough for everyone to hear, but it doesn’t seem to matter for Kira as she already has her focus on you.

“I guess we’ll see each other again?”

“Oh, yes. Perhaps,” you try to say, only for Kira not to notice as she is already turning on her heels.

“No need to walk me out. I know my way,” she says without looking over her shoulder, and everyone can only look on as she continues making her way to the front door.

Seokjin shakes his head, again, and you wonder why he keeps looking more and more exhausted as time passes. “I’m sorry for showing you such an unpleasant sight so early in the morning.” He gives you a small smile. “Come, let’s have breakfast. I hope you like pancakes and waffles. Those are Ari’s favourites.”

You glance at Ah-ri as she finishes putting away the gifts that she received and setting them up on a cabinet nearby. “I’m up for anything that the little princess helped make.”

Your words seem to cheer the little girl, who immediately takes your hand and starts pulling back to your seat. “Do you like fruit or berries? I asked Daddy to buy some strawberries yesterday, and—”

Seokjin stands in the hall between the dining room and the foyer, feeling like his entire body, mind, and soul are being split into two. Never before had he ever felt this exhausted. Never once had he ever experienced anything that would make him feel like losing his strength and wishing that he could shut everything down at the same time.

Not even the long hours he spent working at the firm, either handling tough clients or delving into difficult cases, has ever made him feel so drained.

He watches Ah-ri pulling you away, back to the dining table. Her cheerful voice as she rambles on about the breakfast that she helped make fills the room, yet his mind keeps replaying the argument he had with Kira just moments ago.

“Are you fucking cheating on me?”

Was it really wrong for Seokjin to laugh the moment he heard such an accusation?

He wanted to remain calm, knowing that there was no point for him to respond with anger. But it was so hard to think clearly when he was still vexed after Kira bailed on them last night.

“Cheating? Me?” he had responded once he pulled Kira away, preventing Ah-ri from hearing her cursing and yelling, something that he already expected Kira would do. And the last thing he wanted was to fight right in front of his little girl and their guest. “That’s rich coming from someone who went missing without any news for the past 24 hours.”

“Why are you turning this on me?”

“Where were you?”

It felt like talking to a wall, or a volcano, he really couldn’t decide which, when his question only led to a more explosive reaction from Kira. It was a miracle that he was able to remain calm through it all. Barely, but at the very least, he was able to keep his voice down. He couldn’t stop the surging anger, however, so his voice remained tense the entire time he kept responding to Kira.

And the explanation she gave him did nothing to alleviate his exasperation. It only made things worse.

“Our office is hosting a group of independent artists from Europe, as you very well know—”

Seokjin didn’t enjoy hearing the mocking tone in her voice. And yes, he very well knew what was going on. He knew that the production house that Kira is working on is currently hosting guests from Europe; stage artists who are performing their work here in LA through the whole season. He knew because Kira wouldn’t stop talking about them ever since they arrived here a month ago. He shouldn’t have been surprised to know that these ‘guests’ of hers would be the reason she was cancelling their plan.

It wouldn’t be the first. But at least she had always remembered to let him know about it before she did instead of ditching on him and ghosting them the way she did yesterday.

“They wanted to watch some shows while they’re on cooldown Friday night, so we took them to watch a musical, then we went to watch a live show at the club—”

Seokjin could already tell where this was going before she even continued, “We went drinking after, and one of the artists said he wanted to see other parts of LA, so when Alex”—she mentioned her co-worker, the one that Seokjin has always felt to be some kind of a nuisance—”mentioned that he has a villa on Catalina Island and offered to take everyone there with his boat. We crashed at Alex’s place after and went first thing in the morning. I guess I passed out during the night after drinking, and—”

Seokjin cannot remember what went through his head at the time other than finding this entire situation ridiculous.

This? She broke her promise and avoided my calls and messages for this?

He let out an incredulous laugh instead of yelling back at her, even when he already felt like he was about to explode himself.

“What? Are you going to accuse me of cheating now? Because if you’re going to—”

He almost screamed then. But he was so angry that he barely reacted at all. There was a moment when he nearly said that the possibility of her cheating didn’t matter to him. He didn’t even care if she did. Because there was only one thing that mattered to him at that moment.

“You broke your promise to Ari.” The moment those words were said, Kira’s ire seemed to cool down. As if she finally remembered where she went wrong.

“At which part during your hosting your guests, getting drunk, agreeing to join them boating and going to the island, and crashing at your friend’s place for the night, did you ever think or remember about the promise you made to me and Ari? By which point did it ever occur to you to call or message us to cancel or at least tell me that you were alive?” Kira said nothing to defend or to explain herself. But at least she had the decency to show a bit of shame. “And you were the one who insisted to try and bond with her before I even agreed to get her involved between us.”

Just as he was seeing the fight leaving Kira the moment she heard his questions, his own fight declined.

Thinking about it now, Seokjin realises why he feels so drained.

Kira has always been more free-spirited than he ever was, and that was what had drawn him to her in the first place. Where Seokjin was meticulous and strict, Kira has always been more spontaneous. She always had new ideas to try, finding new things to do and jump into. Before, Seokjin would always envy her for being able to be so free, when he constantly felt like he was living under a restraint that kept him from enjoying the world. When his reality kept him from enjoying life.

Being with Kira had taught him how to let loose once in a while, to have fun, to experience something new. And he loved having her in his life for that reason.

Now, however, her spontaneous acts have become the source of his frustration. This wouldn’t be the first time for her to disappear without news because she decided to go someplace or do something completely unplanned, or for her to change her mind after making a decision, and it has been getting hard for Seokjin to keep up.

It is beginning to feel as if they are going at a different pace, heading towards different paths, that he is bound to remain at one place while she would go all over the place.

This was what came across his mind during the fight, when he suddenly realised that things hadn’t been the same between both of them. It hadn’t been for a while, but he was just too stubborn to see it.

“I didn’t—” Seokjin remembers her muttering those words. Only those words. “I’m sorry.”

“Daddy, your coffee is getting cold, you know.”

Ah-ri’s voice snaps him out of it. As if he is doused by cool water, the bleakness of the situation is lifted, his mind is cleared, and all he sees is his little girl. To see her smile and laughter, and her wide, glowing eyes as she excitedly explains to you about the food that she prepared for you. She looks proud of herself the moment you praise her for helping in the kitchen, which only pushes her to brag even more.

Seeing this thaws everything inside him; his cold rage, his weariness, and the dreadful conversation which he still needs to have with his wayward partner.

Chuckling softly, Seokjin shakes everything away, putting the fight, Kira, and the questions he still has about his relationship to the back burner as he joins his little girl and her mysterious princess at the breakfast table before they can start the day.

Meanwhile, back in Andalasia…

Sir Noah feels uneasy. He hadn’t been truly pleased about this whole conundrum. Hating to be at the center of it, shackled with the secrets that he is required to keep, Sir Noah feels like his entire world is slowly slipping out of his control.

He debates with his own conscious as he watches Prince Jungkook walking back and forth in the war room. With a gaze so distant, his brows furrowed, and his lips curled to a frown, Prince Jungkook shows him an emotion that is rare for someone like him to display. An emotion much alike to the Queen’s when she is displeased.

But Sir Noah knows exactly why the Prince is acting in such a way, so he cannot fault him for doing so.

Prince Jungkook is worrying about the maiden who disappeared.

All morning, the Prince fusses over not having done everything ‘right’ by the maiden, and has been wondering what may have gotten wrong or if there was a possibility that the maiden has been kidnapped.

Merely a day has passed since the failed wedding. Yesterday, the Prince had waited for hours at the wedding venue for the maiden, and Sir Noah had to do all he could not to make a slip and reveal the truth. Not even when the Prince had waited until nightfall came and the maiden was still absent from her own wedding.

“Y-your Highness,” Sir Noah carefully calls out to the Prince. “Please, my Prince. You need to rest.”

“Rest? How could I possibly rest? My bride has gone missing!”

Sir Noah winces. The Prince has never once raised his voice at his aides and knights, no matter how frustrated he feels. But now he seems stiff, his voice sounds strained and desperate. It would be lying if Sir Noah try to claim that the guilt isn’t eating him up from the inside.

He thought the Prince would easily move on. After all, had they not only met each other the day before? Had they not agree to marry only because of the myth, the stories, the tale that was told about princes and damsels and the true love’s kiss?

The prince could have gotten with anyone he wanted. A princess from the southern island who had once led her tribe to find miracles, for example. Or the ice princess who was known to defeat her own curse up north and fought for her family. Anyone other than the damsel that the Queen had—for some unknown reason—the most disdain towards.

But Prince Jungkook has only been troubled ever since the maiden disappeared. He has been restless. So much so that the prince is skipping meals and missing his sword fighting practices. Sir Noah isn’t sure if the prince has had the chance to sleep at all ever since the maiden’s sudden disappearance, as many of the guards reported seeing Prince Jungkook walking back and forth between the main castle and the now vacant wedding venue in the gardens.

Prince Jungkook suddenly comes to a halt. His eyes fall on the map of Andalasia that has been set up on the table standing at the center of the room. For one second, the prince makes no move. He makes no sound, yet his gaze sharpens as if he is thinking deeply, and then something inside him snaps.

Without a word, Jungkook turns away from the table and marches towards the door.

“Your Highness, wait! Where are you going?” Sir Noah calls for him as his prince walks out of the war room in quick, long strides. The old royal aide tries to catch up, quickly losing his breath as they reach the corridor on the side of the castle leading towards the courtyard.

“I need to find her. I must search for her until I find her,” Jungkook insists as he continues walking. Sir Noah has no clue where the prince is heading to, yet the steady footsteps of the prince echoes through the walls with no sign of stopping.

“Where would you go to look for her? How? You can’t possibly spend the night looking for her out there. The Queen is also expecting you for dinner, and—”

Jungkook stops and makes a sharp turn to face Sir Noah. “I will search through the entire realm, if I must! And yes, I will not stop even if the sun only comes the next week.” The deep inhale of breath that the prince takes after he speaks feels heavy, and his voice trembles when he speaks again, “What kind of groom or husband would I be if I am not out there looking for my betrothed?”

The guilt that Sir Noah has felt for the whole day seems to be piercing deeper in his chest. He feels powerless against it, but he knows that he cannot give in and allow the prince to leave the castle. Not if the aide wants to keep his head on his shoulders. “Forgive me for overstepping, Your Highness. But we have sent knights to search through the castle properties, the land, even through the forest to find the maiden, so—”

Jungkook throws his arms in frustration. “Then do tell, Sir Noah. Where is she now? Why have they not find her yet if they have been searching thoroughly as you said they have?”

“But my Prince, it has only been a day.”

Jungkook cuts him off with a scoff. “A day too long. She could be out there, lost, scared. She could be harmed.” Jungkook exhales a deep breath, trying to calm down so he can think. But his mind refuses to think. Too filled with worry about his missing bride. “We don’t even know if she’s been kidnapped. What if she had fallen prey to the wrong kinds of people?”

“Your Highness, I can assure you—”

“What? What will you do to assure me?” Jungkook’s voice softens. Though not because he is calmer, only because he is exhausted. “I will not be reassured until I have my bride back.”

“What if—” Sir Noah tries to speak, hesitant at first, but his need to stop the prince from leaving the castle—from defying the Queen—pushes him to speak his thoughts. “What if the maiden had chosen to run away? Perhaps she had a change of mind. Not even her guests, families, or her little friends ever came to the wedding, so what’s to say that she hadn’t told everyone that she was reconsidering about marrying the Prince—”

Jungkook marches back to Sir Noah as he hears all this. Then he shows Sir Noah a part of him that he had never once shown before. A side of the prince that had never existed, now unleashed at the accusation thrown against his bride as he reaches out and grabs Sir Noah’s collar and pulls roughly at him.

“If you claim to know me at all, you would do well not to say such atrocity right at my face, Sir Noah,” he threatens the royal aide, who is now shaking in fear in Jungkook’s hands. “I know that she will never leave without any notice. Not without news. Not like this.”

“Uh, I—” Sir Noah gasps in his shock, “Y-Your Highness—”

Realising what he has done, Jungkook quickly releases Sir Noah. The older man stumbles backwards, his legs failing to hold his weight. Prince Jungkook glares at Sir Noah with his jaw clenched, stealing the royal aide’s voice when the sight leaves him completely speechless, overtaken by fear.

With a deep exhale of breath, Jungkook turns away, dismissing the royal aide without looking over his shoulder. “I need some fresh air. Leave me be. Tell my mother that I won’t be joining her for dinner tonight.”

“B-but, Your Highness—” Sir Noah tries to stop Prince Jungkook, only to fail, as the prince has already stepped out of the corridor and is now heading towards the courtyard. Sir Noah has no other choice but to give up. “Understood.”

Sir Noah stays in the side corridor for a moment longer, watching Prince Jungkook walk across the courtyard until he disappears between the tall hedges leading towards the royal garden. Once the prince is out of sight, instead of feeling relieved, the weight of his conscience refuses to go away.

Shaking his head, Sir Noah turns to make his way to the Queen’s chamber. He needs to report to the Queen about the prince’s reaction and inquire what needs to be done.

Just as he steps away from the ledge, a tree growing nearby begins to sway. The sound of rustling leaves breaks the silence before falling to the ground.

Sir Noah looks up to see if there is an animal passing by, disrupting the trees and making the branches shake, only to see the swaying of leaves coming to halt. He can still hear leaves rustling from some other trees nearby and the lower bushes just as the cold breeze of the evening flows around him, making him shiver.

Hmmm, seems like autumn is coming early this time of year, he simply muses, ignoring the sudden disruption.

As he continues his journey into the main castle, the little shadow that has been hiding behind the swaying leaves begins to move again. The sound of tiny paws scattering across the castle wall can be faintly heard under the sound of the flowing breeze as the shadow begins to race across the garden, chasing the sulking prince.

The evening breeze welcomes Jungkook as he walks across the courtyard.

The temperature has dropped significantly the moment the sun is gone, yet Jungkook doesn’t mind it. With his coat hanging somewhere in the war room, he welcomes the cold touching his skin.

It helps only little to distract himself from the thoughts running through his mind. From the guilt and sorrow that keep clawing at him, and from continuously questioning himself what he could have done differently to prevent this tragedy from happening.

He has no idea what prompted him to walk out into the dark courtyard.

Jungkook had only wanted to get away. He needed to clear his thoughts, and—just like the excuse he used to get away from Sir Noah—a breath of fresh air. Perhaps then, he would be able to find some peace of mind and figure out what he needs to do to get his bride back.

And yet, the storm inside his head refuses to settle.

In fact, it only seems to be escalating. The accusation that Sir Noah has thrown at him is beginning to take root, even if the bigger part of himself is in denial.

Because the maiden, his bride, his princess, would never have run away. He believes so in his heart, as he knows well enough just how much you were looking forward to the big day. Just as much as he was.

No, she couldn’t have run away. Something foul must have happened.

This is the thought that has been running through Jungkook’s mind ever since you failed to show up at the wedding venue. No matter how long he waited, and waited, without any sign of you coming through the pathway decorated in scattered white petals and blooming daisies, he still believes that you wouldn’t have left him without any explanation, without news nor a reason.

Lost in his thoughts and wonderings, Jungkook finds himself walking towards the Annex building right across the courtyard. The building that was supposed to house you and your little friends during the wedding preparation. The building where the palace maids spent hours waiting, hoping to help prepare you for the ceremony, only for you to never arrive.

Jungkook walks toward the small patch of garden at the side of the building, finding a wooden bench where he can rest. From here, he raises his head, looking over the balcony on the upper floor, where your preparation room is situated. The room is now left unattended and unoccupied, as the only person who was supposed to be using it on the morning of the wedding never came.

But the bitter thought of your absence isn’t the reason why his chest feels tight as he looks up on the empty balcony. The reason for his pain is his memory, as it takes him back to the night before, to make him think of another balcony that he was looking at before everything fell apart.

The balcony in front of him looks nothing like the small balcony right outside of your bedroom. As he looks up to the vacant area above his head, the only thing he sees is the modest and quaint balcony at the heart of the Amaranth Forest, with you standing against the bannister as you sang to him a song to celebrate your coming nuptial.

The cold weather bit into his skin as Jungkook raced through the night, leading his horse through the Amaranth Forest until he finally reached your humble abode.

Jungkook already knew by then that the castle must have sent news to you and your family about the Queen’s blessing, yet he was still eager to bring the news directly to you. He wanted to share his joy and happiness, the excitement of being able to marry the woman of his dreams, and for the magic of the true love’s kiss that he was about to share with you the next day.

By the time the prince got to your home, the place was quiet. The only light he could see was coming from your window, where he could hear the soft humming sound of a tune reverberating through the night.

She is still awake, he pleasantly wondered.

Jumping off his magnificent horse, Jungkook bent down to pick up a handful of small gravels as a means to grab your attention without unnecessarily alerting anyone else around or mistakenly disturbing someone—namely your grandmother—from slumber. He contemplated for a moment before he began tossing them against your window. One at a time. Until he finally caught your attention.

“It’s me, Princess,” he called out to you then with a whisper, once he noticed some movements happening from beyond the drawn curtains.

He saw you peeking from between the curtains, gasping at the sight of him, before the window was unlatched and out you went to the balcony to see him.

“My Prince,” you greeted him with a gasp, your eyes filled with joy that Jungkook felt the urge to celebrate.

“I’ve come to see you, Princess,” Jungkook nearly shouted, to which you quickly hushed him to quiet.

“I know, Your Highness,” you whispered to him then. “But please, keep it down. My grandmother has fallen asleep just moments ago.”

Jungkook nodded and immediately lowered his voice. “Are you busy preparing for tomorrow?”

Your smile widened, and Jungkook could tell how genuinely happy you were when you said, “Yes, I am.”

“So the news have come to you about the Queen’s blessing.”

“That the Queen has approved of our marriage? Yes, it has,” you let him know with a grateful smile. “A royal knight came to us in the afternoon, bringing news of the Queen’s approval and the wedding that has been set to happen tomorrow before noon.” He heard a sigh coming out of your lips. The sound was filled with wonder and disbelief, and it touched him deeply in the chest. “It feels so soon. Even my grandmother was in complete shock.”

“And how about your grandmother?” Jungkook asked you when he recalled meeting your grandmother earlier that day to ask for her blessing. While your grandmother was surprised to hear his intention of marrying you, she was definitely not expecting to hear the wedding to happen so suddenly. “She hasn’t changed her mind about giving her blessing for us, has she?”

You quickly began shaking your head, much to his pleasure. “No, she hasn’t. But seeing the royal knight and hearing the good news from Her Majesty the Queen has reassured her. Nana even helped me with the dress until a moment ago when I sent her back to her chambers.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, feeling the excitement and joy of seeing you in a wedding dress so soon. “I cannot wait to see you in your dress.”

You made a humming sound that Jungkook perceived as a giggle, only that it had a tune to it, as if you were humming a delightful song. “And I cannot wait to wear it for you tomorrow.”

Silence fell between you as you both relished the moment of joy.

“This is so romantic. For the prince himself to come and visit me late at night,” you had murmured then with a sigh, and right at that moment, Jungkook had promised himself to never forget the emotions rushing through his chest; the pride and gratitude he felt for being the reason you were smiling; and the excitement he felt for tomorrow.

“To hear you say such a thing will only pressure me into making sure that tomorrow will be perfect.”

The soft sound of your laughter made everything brighter for Jungkook. “I know you will make it perfect.”

“You have such high faith in me, Princess,” Jungkook said, shaking his head. When he looked up, he saw you leaning against the bannister, your chin propped on top of your hands. Tilting your head, you seemed to be deep in thoughts, even when your gaze remained on him. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about”—a dreamy sigh came out of your lips—”our true love’s kiss.”

“Really, now?”

“Yes! It’s making me happy that I just want to”—you started clapping your hands—”I just want to sing!”

Seeing your excitement put a smile on Jungkook’s face. “Then sing, Princess. Let me listen to your voice so I can sleep well tonight.” Jungkook laughed as you started dancing on your small balcony, humming softly to a tune and singing joyfully about your true love’s kiss.

“In the still of the night, when the stars softly shine,

A spell whispers secrets to hearts like mine.”

Your voice was like magic. It touched a deep part of Jungkook which caused him to hum along with your tune as if he knew every rhythm, every beat, every word.

“Through forests enchanted, where wild roses grow,

You searched for my heart, though the path was unknown.”

As you continued, the forest began to sway. Every rustle of leaves became a rhythm to accompany your song. A music, a tune, to which you kept swaying along as the breeze began flowing around you and Jungkook.

“Now our worlds collide, in this moment of grace,

One kiss will erase every trace of the maze.

So kiss me, my love, let the story begin.”

Lured by your enchanting voice, Jungkook joined you and began to sing along.

“True love's kiss, like a spark from the skies,

It awakens the soul, with a tender surprise.

One touch of your lips, and the darkness will part,

For your kiss is the key that unlocks my heart.

True love's kiss, in this moment divine,

Is the magic that says you'll forever be mine.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, drowning the lovely tune that he sang together with you that night before it could lead him into feeling even more despair. Still, he cannot help but hum the tune as he reminisces that wonderful moment he spent with you before he had to race back to the castle and allow you a moment to rest.

Besides, he had also feared that the magic of your voice would break away his restraint, causing him to leap over to the balcony and give you the kiss that he desperately wanted. One that he dreamed of. When he saw the look in your eyes once the song ended, he knew then that he wouldn’t be able to resist.

There was a glow in your eyes which caught his attention that night.

It reminded him of the moonlight, of its magnificent beauty that he had often seen shining through the warm nights of summer. There was a wonderful spark rising in his chest when he saw it in your gaze; the blissful happiness that seemed to be reaching out into his heart and soul. At that moment, Jungkook had imagined seeing the same glow the next day, when he was supposed to take your hand and recite his vows before sharing the true love’s kiss with you.

He never expected what was supposed to be the happiest day in his life—and yours—would fall apart the way it did.

All the years he spent training to fight against evil and sharpening his swordsmanship skills seem fruitless now. For years, he had done all he could to make himself worthy of his title as the Crown Prince. From fighting monsters and demons, encountering evil witches and dark mages to prevent them from entering the land and exploiting the people, to winning fights and protecting the people of the kingdom with his sword. But never before had he ever felt so helpless, so powerless, all because he failed to protect the one person who matters to him the most.

Jungkook is still overcome with regret for not picking you up himself on the morning of the wedding day like he had intended to. If only he hadn’t been so strict in following the old tradition of not seeing the bride before the wedding, he would’ve been able to make sure that you would arrive safely at the castle.

But when Queen Mother had made him promise not to break tradition for the sake of the ceremony, Jungkook never thought to refuse and simply followed everything she taught him to do. He never thought that having faith in the servants and the knights would cause him to lose a bride.

There has to be a way, he wonders to himself, trying to work his brain into thinking of a solution. There must be some kind of magic that would—

With a jolt, Jungkook rises from the bench when he suddenly realises. Magic is one of the sources of power that exists here in Andalasia. So why hasn’t he thought about using it to find you?

Jungkook starts pulling at his hair as he thinks this through, realising soon the reason why magic had never been a possibility for him to even consider.

Jungkook had never been so adept with magic. Not since he was a child.

Ever since he was a young boy, Jungkook has always been more interested in learning how to fight, how to wield a sword, and to follow the footsteps of the princes written in tale books who protected their princesses and queens with their swords instead of spells. And now, he regrets all the years he could have used to learn magic from the Queen.

Yes, that’s it, he wonders with a newfound hope. Perhaps Mother will be able to use her magic to help find her.

With this thought giving him a new sliver of hope, Jungkook starts to make his way back to the main castle and requests a moment with the Queen, to ask her for a favour in finding his missing maiden. Until he hears rough rustling sounds of leaves, causing him to halt.

This sound has been occupying the garden for a while now, he realises, yet he paid no mind to it, thinking it to be the evening breeze shaking the trees and bushes around him.

But as he looks on towards the nearest rosebush growing alongside the pathway, he notices that the breeze may not be the reason behind these sounds. He takes a step closer, just as the leaves before him are parted, and a small face peeks through the opening.

“Your Highness?” A small voice speaks, and it takes Jungkook a moment to realise that the face—and the voice—belongs to a squirrel.

A familiar-looking squirrel.

“You!” He exclaims when he recognises her. He bends down to his knees, greeting the little thing with a smile. “It’s you! The squirrel who accompanied _______ in the forest. What are you doing here in the dark?”

The squirrel starts waving her paws frantically. Panic is written on her face as she glances around her. “Sshh—please not so loud, my Prince,” she cautiously begs the prince. “You cannot tell anyone that I am here.”

“What? But why?” Jungkook asks, “Why are you here?”

The poor thing looks hesitant for a moment. “My name is Poppy, and yes, I am friends with ______ and we met in Amaranth Forest.” Jungkook still remembers the day quite well and nods as he listens.

“It’s ______, my Prince. I heard what the other man, that Sir Whatshisname, said”—she says with a growl—”about my dear friend, and you must know that he was undoubtedly mistaken.” The more she speaks, the more the squirrel appears angry. Unwilling to accept the accusations being thrown by Sir Noah about her friend.

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook realises the reason why. “Blossom never ran away, my Prince, and I am quite concerned that she might have gotten hurt.”

Jungkook’s eyes grow wide. “What do you mean?”

A breeze passes through the bushes, rustling leaves and swaying branches cause the squirrel to jump, surprised, until she takes one quick glance around the area and realises that there is no danger coming. But the same cannot be said about your fate. Wherever you might be.

“She might be in danger as we speak, so we must hurry.”

Furrowing his brows, Jungkook leans closer to be able to listen more. “What do you know? Tell me everything.”

Poppy’s eyes burn with tears, overcome with relief. She didn’t expect that Prince Jungkook would be willing to listen to her. But she feels glad that she took the chance.

After what happened on the day of the wedding, when she and the others were tricked by the vile and queer-looking Sir Whatshisname, Poppy has been wary about trusting anyone from the castle. She was so enraged that she truly believed that the entire royal family and its squires had set up a trap when they first took you into the castle.

However, in her mission to find out what actually happened and who might have been responsible, Poppy had spent the entire afternoon watching the prince from a distance, and she can now see that his distress upon his failure of finding you seems genuine.

Surely, the man who seems to have spent his day and night searching for you—and is looking as if he is in dire need of sleep for thinking about you—wouldn’t be the one responsible of your disappearance.

Looking at the ground around her, Poppy settles on a small fallen branch as a tool to help her describe everything that had happened. Because words from a tiny creature like herself wouldn’t be enough.

Using the branch, Poppy begins to carve the ground, sketching out images as she relays to the prince all the events she witnessed leading to your disappearance.

Poppy draws their arrival; with you in your wedding dress arriving in the carriage and your little friends accompanying you; Sir Noah welcoming you at the gate. Then she tells him about Sir Noah separating you from the others, promising to have knights and servants coming to help you prepare, before sending Poppy and the others to the wrong side of the property and kicking everyone out of the castle.

She hears Jungkook’s breath hitching at this part, a crease forming between his brows, yet Poppy continues.

When Poppy tells him about the part where she managed to climb up the castle walls to see you standing in front of a fountain, Jungkook’s entire body tenses. “She was at the old fountain?”

Poppy cocks her heard. “So you know about the fountain, my Prince?”

Jungkook quickly shakes his head. “Surely, I would. The magic fountain had been there for as long as I lived. The water comes out from the massive rock hidden behind the grove of trees growing against the castle walls, it used to cause massive flooding on that part of the castle, yet the water wouldn’t stop flowing. Once it was found that the spring contained magic, the Queen built a fountain around the spring to contain the water,” the prince explains, “But the place is restricted. Only those who are permitted or given the spell to enter through the restriction can find it.”

Poppy is confused. “Well, Blossom didn’t go there alone. I saw someone with her.”

“Who was it?”

Poppy begins to draw the old hag who was there with you. Unfortunately, she only witnessed everything from the distance, so all she can give the prince is the vague description of the old, mysterious hag; with her slightly hunched back, a dirty worn-out cloak that covered her entire body, and the curly strands of silver hair framing her face.

Poppy also adds the hag’s slightly disfigured face, with her sharp nose and curved lips, and pointed cheeks, yet she cannot recall the eyes, except that they were dark and slightly wicked that they still give her the chills thinking about it now.

“This is all I can give you, my Prince. I was too far away, so I cannot be sure if I was seeing things right. When I finally reached the fountain, your bride was gone and there was no trace of the old hag anywhere.”

“How odd,” he muses, almost to himself as he is lost in thoughts.

“Your Highness? Is there something—”

Poppy’s words are cut off when she hears footsteps coming down the pathway. Prince Jungkook doesn’t notice it yet, but her body is frozen, and the urge to flee the place is clawing at her from within.

The incident from before, when she was tricked by the prince’s trusted man—Sir Unfriendlylooking—and then kicked out of the castle flashes through her mind that she immediately begins to tremble.

The prince starts to speak, only to be interrupted by the deep voices of their intruders.

“Your Highness, are you there?”

“Prince Jungkook, is everything all right?”

Poppy’s fear is lifted when she realises that neither of those voices comes from the scary royal aide from before. Yet her body is still tense, and her mind simply goes into a survival mode as she begins to plan out ways to run away.

As Prince Jungkook recognises the voices of his knights, he rises to his feet to answer them. Immediately, Poppy jumps to grab the hem of his trousers to stop him. “Wait, Your Highness!”

“What’s wrong? They’re my knights. Are you afraid of them?”

“I—” She stammers as she clutches the small branch to her chest. “I should probably go. I can’t be seen here by anyone. I had to struggle to find my way into the castle, so they’ll kick me out if they see me, for sure. Please, Your Highness, promise me you’ll look for ________ and bring her home to us.”

Poppy isn’t sure that the prince is going to let her leave, when he doesn’t say anything. He merely gives her an odd look, as if suddenly feeling suspicious with the way the squirrel is acting. Maybe she shouldn’t worry too much, seeing that whoever is standing on the other side of these bushes may not be connected to the old man that frightens her so. Yet she still cannot risk it. She wouldn’t.

Thankfully, Prince Jungkook seems to notice her need to flee and think nothing more of it.

“I still need some more information, and I might need your help,” he simply says to her. “Find me here in the morning. We’ll do well to work together to find your friend Blossom, my bride, but if you must go, then you should go for now and rest. I’ll handle the rest from here.”

Poppy feels hopeful, but it doesn’t stop her from worrying about the risk that she will have to take for coming back to the castle again. “But, Prince—”

“Go, I’ll wait for you here. I promise.”

Something in the prince’s gaze makes her want to believe him. So she does. With a nod, Poppy promises both to herself and the prince that she will come back the moment the sun rises so they could work together to start searching for you.

Right as the footsteps keep drawing nearer, Poppy slips away between the bushes and back into the night, making her way back home so she can report back to her friends and your grandmother who are waiting for news.

Jungkook watches the squirrel make her escape through the bushes, and he continues to watch until he sees her faint shadow disappearing up the trees growing near the outer wall of the castle.

As he watches her go, Jungkook begins to wonder why the squirrel would be so jumpy and tense, only because of the knights coming. He thinks back about her words, but nothing seems to make sense. His eyes find the rough sketches on the ground, and he takes the time to memorise each one of them the best he can.

He doesn’t want to believe that one of the wedding guests has done something foul to harm you and cause you to disappear on the wedding day. He also cannot think of any reason why someone would try to sabotage the royal wedding.

Prince Jungkook remains silent for a moment as he studies the rough sketch of the person that Poppy claims to have been there with you to look at the fountain. He wonders what might have happened to you next. Surely, if you had simply drowned in the fountain, the knights would have found you when Jungkook ordered them to search through every corner of the castle, leaving not an inch of the property overlooked.

Unless something else has stopped the knights from getting close to the fountain, or that whoever took you had done their best to hide any clues or trails.

But why must they lure you to the fountain, risking the possibility of them getting caught, being so close to the wedding venue?

What could have happened after?

While Jungkook tries to think of any possible scenario that you may have encountered, the knights emerge through the pathway, coming to a sudden halt as they see their prince standing in the dark, all by himself.

“Forgive us for interrupting your private time, Your Highness. We were sent by the Queen’s advisor to find you,” one of the knights greets him with a bow.

“That’s quite all right. I am on my way to see the Queen, after all.”

The knights’ eyes grow wide. “I am afraid the Queen is—” The knights look at each other, looking unsure, which only makes Jungkook believe that there is something more about this whole situation that seems uncanny. That perhaps the squirrel—Poppy—had some real reason why she feared getting caught that she trembled simply for hearing some knights coming to them.

“Her Majesty has locked herself in her chambers after dinnertime. The Queen’s advisor is currently with Her Majesty for a private discussion about some issues regarding the kingdom, but he had specifically requested that we bring you back before the night grows too late, just to make sure that you are safe.”

Don’t you mean to make sure that I have not—and will not—escaped from the castle unnoticed?

Jungkook can only wonder about this with disdain, though he has no way of sharing his thoughts out loud. No way of confirming that Sir Noah has probably ordered to keep the prince hostage in his own castle.

“Is that so?” he asks. Feeling bitter and uneasy, Jungkook takes one last look at the sketch of the possible suspect behind your disappearance, before turning to the knights. “Well then, why don’t you walk me back and inform Sir Noah to send the servants for my dinner.”

The knights appear to be relieved, as if grateful that the prince agrees to go with them willingly. “Very well, Your Highness.”

“After you,” Jungkook instructs the guards to walk ahead. As he makes his way to follow the guards, Jungkook steals a glance over his shoulder to make sure that his new little accomplice has managed to escape, completely unnoticed by the guards. Having someone on his side gives him a new hope, reassuring him to try all he might to be able to find you and bring you back home.

Unlike the garden, where the air is fresh and chilly and the breeze is flowing nicely between the swaying trees, the air in the Queen’s sitting chamber feels hot and stifling. Invisible tension seems to have risen, causing the air in the room to feel dense, so much so that Sir Noah feels as if he is suffocating.

His royal suit—which he has always felt to be one of the most comfortable suits that he has ever owned—suddenly feels too tight on his skin. He fights the urge to loosen up the tie wrapping around his collar or to open the suit jacket to let some coolness in. He barely has any courage to move at all, when the Queen is in deep concentration as she is working on her magic.

Standing still in front of the small, black fountain placed at the heart of the chamber—the Queen’s talisman, which instils fear in Sir Noah’s person each time he feels its magic manifesting—Queen Rosalyne chants a few lines of cryptic spells, rousing the surface of the water to bubble and ripple. This remains only for a short moment, until the spell ends. Green mist is formed once the water calms down.

Immediately, the tension in the air is lifted, and Sir Noah can finally breathe normally again.

Only the relief doesn’t last. As the Queen finishes with her spell, casting magic across the land for the purpose of the kingdom, she takes a seat on her high-back chair and turns her attention to Sir Noah.

“What is your business here?” she asks, as she reaches out to pick a decanter and pours an amber liquid drink into her glass.

“Pardon this humble servant for disturbing you in”—he looks over to the calming fountain, not completely sure what the Queen was actually doing with her magic—”your, um—royal business, my Queen. But it’s Prince Jungkook that I am worried about. The Prince—” He stops to take a deep breath, preparing himself to take a blow as he continues, “His Highness wants to, has been planning and is about to initiate, the search for the maiden. His bride.”

Queen Rosalyne’s hand comes to a halt, her fingers tightening around the crystal decanter when she hisses, “The Prince wants to do—what?”

“He, um—Forgive me, Your Majesty, but—” Sir Noah swallows hard to calm his nerves. ”His Highness is planning to look for the maiden. He insists on it.”

The Queen’s jaw clenches, right before she swings her hand down, the decanter hitting the table with a loud thud, causing Sir Noah to jump on his feet. “And where exactly is he planning to look for her?”

“We, uh—we don’t know yet, but His Highness has been searching through the castle for hints.” Sir Noah speaks while wringing his hands together. “He, uh—he has also been spending the entire afternoon to dusk in the war room, trying to figure out a way to track down his bride.”

Her eyes widening, Queen Rosalyne rises from her seat and turns back to the fountain. She casts a different spell, causing the fading green mist to thicken over the water. But the movement seems too slow, and the Queen grows impatient that she quickly waves her hand over the fountain, cancelling the spell.

“The spell is too small,” she complains. “This won’t do.”

She immediately turns, the back of her robe billowing behind her as she rushes out of her chamber. Sir Noah has no idea what to do. His feet don’t seem to want to move, frozen at the sight of the Queen’s anger, until Queen Rosalyne’s voice snaps him out of it when she yells, “What are you doing standing there? Come!”

Sir Noah quickly follows the Queen, shadowing her close by as she walks out of the castle through the small hidden door right behind the chamber and into the pathway leading to the royal garden. The royal aide continues to look around as he walks right behind the Queen. Seeing nothing but stillness in the garden, he is relieved that he had at least thought of sending out the guards to retrieve the prince when he rushed to see the Queen.

He can only hope for the guards to make it in time to bring the prince back into the castle so he won’t see them rushing into the garden, nor for him to see where they are heading.

Just as he expected, Queen Rosalyne makes her way towards the old, magic fountain at the far end of the royal garden. The crystal-like water that never seems to stop falling appears to glow under the moonlight, sparkling like diamond and ice, enthralling to look at, but too dangerous to touch. Under the waterfall, the surface of the pool is calm and steady. The water is so clear that it almost serves as a mirror, reflecting perfectly the night sky, the stars sparkling above his head appear in the water like tiny diamonds scattering all over the dark background.

Just yesterday, Sir Noah stood here with the Queen. Green mist covered the ground as Queen Rosalyne cast off the spell disguising her looks, and there were ripples spreading through the surface of the water, right where you went under.

Once again, the Queen begins to chant her spell, drawing more ripples and bubbles on the calm water, rousing her magic until a faint white mist rises from the fountain.

As the water once again turns calm, the white mist spreads to the corner of the pool, and the Queen’s voice fades to quiet at the end of her spell, Sir Noah knows that the magic has manifested in the fountain.

Sir Noah takes a hard look at the Queen in her silence. He takes in the grey strands threading her darker hair, the permanent furrow between her brows that seems to have gotten deeper the more she looks on through the fountain. He has no idea what kind of vision the Queen could possibly be seeing from the water spell.

He wishes that he could see it, but the Queen has gestured for him to stand at a fair distance where he wouldn’t be able to get a clear sight of the divination that the Queen’s spell has summoned.

Whatever it is, Sir Noah can sense that it will only bring trouble. A part of him wishes that the maiden will be safe, no matter where she has ended up, but there is a bigger part of him that wishes to remain loyal to the Queen. To protect her with all his might and do whatever the Queen needs him to.

Just the way he has spent many years serving her with everything he has.

That is why, the moment the Queen speaks, he feels nothing more but pure disappointment when she says, “Leave.”

Hiding his sullen heart, Sir Noah bows his farewell to the Queen. “Your Majesty.”

The spell that Queen Rosalyne had cast on this magic fountain was meant to send you away. Far away to the alter-world where you would be lost without any way to return home.

The alter-world. A world without magic. Sending you away to the alter-world was meant to keep you away from Jungkook. It meant to put you in a place where no magic spells could work to help you find your way home.

The Queen had hoped that sending you off to the land with no magic would weaken you. That it would leave you with no hope, feeling lost and defeated, as you are confined in the other world. For you to be left with no other choice but to carry on with despair, while you are soon forgotten by everyone in Andalasia.

Forgotten by her son, the Crown Prince.

Separated by infinite space, the time in the alter-world works differently from how time progresses in Andalasia. It might take time for the prince to forget about you, but surely, with how much faster time progresses in the alter-world, you should have grown weak and miserable. The loss of hope should have broken your soul into pieces, that by the time the prince—if he ever gets to it, and it looks like the prince is already beginning to—manages to find his way to the alter-world to find you, there should be no chance for the two of you to reconcile.

But why—

“Why does she look happy?” Queen Rosalyne seethes as she continues to watch the vision unfold from one scene to the next. She sees you struggling in the dark for a short time, only for everything to rapidly change, your fate turning around just as your soul only begins crumbling.

The Queen moves her hand over the pool to get a clearer look at your life in the alter-world, everything that has happened so far after your fall. But the more she sees, the more she feels rage.

“She’s supposed to be miserable and lost, not having a good time,” she snarls as she watches you sitting at the dinner table instead of stranded at a deserted road or abandoned hill, singing and laughing with a child—a little girl—who is hanging to every word you are saying, and a man sitting on the other end of the table.

“Has she found another love?”

The Queen had failed to predict such possibilities to happen; either for the prince to be so adamant in finding a way to get to you or the chances that you may have found a replacement for the prince within the timeline that you are gone.

This cannot happen, the Queen curses and wonders to herself as she paces back and forth around the fountain, thinking deeply about what she must do to change this. I will not allow it.

If only the circumstances had been different, the Queen would have been elated to think that you have moved on rather quickly from the Crown Prince. That the curse she has cast to send you away has prevented you from sharing your true love’s kiss with Jungkook.

But the truth is, it wouldn’t matter whether or not Jungkook will be the one sharing your true love’s kiss.

As told by many tales, the true love’s kiss can break any kind of curse.

Jungkook can have his kiss with anyone in the kingdom and the Queen will have no problem about it happening. As long as it is not with you. Because your happiness will be the end of everything.

Your true love’s kiss will break the curse.

The curse that has been placed ever since a long, long time ago by the evil Queen, and it will change everything should it be broken. Queen Rosalyne will lose everything that she holds dear should that ever happen. She will lose her throne, her kingdom, and everything that she has built for so long. Everything that she has put her heart and soul into, with many sacrifices made along the way.

“I must stop it,” the Queen vows to herself, knowing what needs to be done. “I must stop her from finding her happily ever after. Before it would be too late.”

⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | Thank you for reading!

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