#all for prince soobin say I

[lexawoah13]

LISTEN 🫠🫠🫠

I know I just posted a whole story about Bin devouring you whole but like…🙃

COULD HE BE ANY MORE OF A FUCKING PRINCE!? 😍🥹❤️👑💍

Jesus if Disney doesn’t give him his own live action film

IM COMING FOR THEM! 👊

[every1woo]

all my live reactions :P

𝒯𝑂: 𝑆𝑂𝑀𝐸𝑂𝑁𝐸 𝐹𝑅𝑂𝑀 𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝑅𝑀 𝐶𝐿𝐼𝑀𝐴𝑇𝐸 ༉

𝓘N THIS STORY 〃 a life lived as a human among the fae is one hard-earned. the folk are built of indescribable beauty, and of debauchery and mischief. for some, a life lived subservient to the folk is just fine; but to those who dream of something more, they would spend their lives clawing and biting to make it happen.

you, looking for a way to escape a life as a faerie’s human servant, put a new foot forward thinking that any life could be better than that. but, when your first assignment as a king’s spy is alongside a brooding, icy faerie man, you begin to wonder what your place in this foreign world really could be.

wc ➳ 20.2k

pairings faerie!taehyun x human!reader, faerie!yeonjun x human!reader

warnings angst, heated kissing, violence, blood, jealousy jealousy jealousy, controlling and obsessive behavior, a bit of a gross nightmare, magic spell places over a human, a bit of traditional values, i think that’s all…

playlists ⑊ yeonjun ˒ taehyun ˒ series

…🪶 ashlynn's note guys. really. that’s all i have to say. i love u and once again if u see a typo or like whack sentence…… no you didn’t. also my back hurts help

← ⑊ →

You’ve come to a thought, in all your aimless idling about the estate. Running your fingers over the surface of all the things you’ve done and the decisions you’d made leading you into this reality, you’ve been caught on one particularly worrisome divot: the geas. 

They hadn’t exactly given you a time frame, but you surmise that you’re quickly approaching the limit. You've entertained the fantasy that they’ll just consider the both of you dead, but it’s just that: fantasy. You know it’s a ridiculous thought. There’s a plethora of things that they might first assume before coming to the conclusion that you’ve met your ends. Though the geas’ workings are a bit elusive to you, you can imagine that all it would take is a tug to check whether or not you’re alive. So, if you ever really wanted to call this place home, you’ve got to do away with it. You’ve got to. Otherwise, all your wagering to stay here would be in terrible vain. You imagine how much of a fool you already look to Taehyun, considering your entanglement with the prince, and how he’d warned you repeatedly. It’s not your fault that he decided to stay here along with you, but you feel nauseous imagining your own mistakes getting the both of you killed.  

Embroidering whorling designs on the hems of your coverlets or sweating away your energy with practicing blocks and parries, you’d also let your mind wander off to fill the silence. It was then that you’d remembered what Beomgyu had offered you in his attempts at luring you. I could dissolve that geas for you.  

You sit, legs spread out ahead of you, in the little spot that you’ve found yourself frequenting these days: pressed against the side of your wardrobe, just enough room for your feet to brush against the wood framing of your bed without having to bend your knees. Taehyun has recently been bringing an influx of faeries to work the estate—all indebted to him or his father. Or, well, that’s what he tells you, anyway. You choose to believe him, but still, you wonder about the circumstances of those debts. The brownie assigned to your care, named Conifer, is long-limbed with bark for skin that crawls up from her spindly fingers and toes, just to end at her shins and fore-arm, and insists on bathing you and preparing your clothes each day. When you refuse her, she loiters around the doorway anxiously watching you prepare yourself with her watery black eyes until you decide to make her life just a bit easier and allow her to do her work. You don’t exactly adore the scrape of her sharp fingers on your scalp while she does your tresses up, though. Their presence reminds you of the servants you’d see running around Yeonjun’s place.  

In this corner, you avoid them. It’s a nice spot to betray your own resolution; his letters are only a grab of the handles away. You try not to, but you read them. Often. When your memories really get kicking, when you’re sickened by twinkling, desperate eyes looking up to you from the ground, you read them.  

“You look sorry.” Beomgyu settles opposite from you, his back against your bed. 

Scoffing at him, you pull yourself out of a slouch. “Oh, wow. Thank you. You have a way with words,” you quip, hiding the letters you’d fished out indulgently away behind you. 

He furrows his brows. “I meant it.” 

You drag in some air and release it slow. “I know. I’m sure I do.” 

He points at you with the hand he has rested on his knee. “Does it have something to do with the letters?” 

You hadn’t hidden them fast enough. Shame crawls a warm red path over your cheeks and ears. Nobody has made any comments at you for your longing, but it feels pitiful to be doing so. You shake your head. “No. I was just... thinking. About something you said when we first met.” 

Strong brows shoot up over lazed eyes. “I think I said many things,” he says, “you’ll have to tell me.” 

“That you could dissolve my geas,” you say, fiddling with your fingers. 

His eyes consider you. “It bothers you.” 

“It does,” you say. “It was a mistake. I should’ve refused it.” Hope flutters in your chest like a dead weight. You shun it away before reality can rip it out for you. 

Deadpanned, and not particularly delicately, he tells you, “I cannot break it.”  

Nodding, you wilt. It’s what you were expecting, anyway. That would be too easy. "Why not? You said it yourself that you could.” 

“A geas is a type of magic cut from the fabric of a promise. It’ll exist until the faerie that placed it over you chooses to revoke it. I couldn’t reach in and cut the line like I would another sort of enchantment.” He presses his mouth into a line. “I was under the impression that you were brought up here. Hadn’t you known that a promise is binding?” 

 Wincing, you answer, “Yeah. I did.” And yet, you made it. It was perhaps the biggest mistake you’ve made in your entire life. You now understand Taehyun’s aversion when he first made his appearance at the den. You were too tunnel-visioned to really listened to him, then. You run your hands furiously through your hair. “Still... you said you could. How did you say that, if it was a lie?” 

A wicked smile cracks over his lips—one that looks as though he’s sharing a joke that only the both of you might understand, but you’re far from being in on it with him. “A bit late to be learning how our kind play, I believe. I was able to say that because I made myself think it true. It is not plain, and it is not fair, but it’s what it is.” 

“That makes no sense,” you say, shaking your head. “You can’t believe something is true over what you already know is the truth. You’d have to acknowledge the other thing’s truth to do that.” 

He grimaces. “That you believe that is why you’ve found yourself here. It’s paradoxical, maybe, but we’re good at that. Loopholes exist where you look hard enough for them. If you don’t intend to get caught up, you just never accept a Faerie deal, there’s no other way to it.” 

Running fingers over the grooves in the wood of the floor, you say, “I suppose I shouldn’t ask you to work up an enchantment that might counteract it, then.” 

“Perhaps I could,” he says. 

Perked up and mouth dropped open, you’re ready to ask him a waterfall of questions. He cuts in before you can even start. “It wouldn’t rid you of the original magic, and I can make no promises to you that it’d be watertight.” 

“I’ll take anything,” you say. With narrowed eyes, you add, “After that whole speech about finding loopholes to lie, and to never trust faerie magic, though...” 

He frowns at you. “I see how it is.” 

“What? I mean, you said it a few seconds ago. I think getting tripped up into another Faerie trick, like, literally seconds after you warned me about them would be a bit ironic.” 

“We’re no longer friendly,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You laugh. Him considering you friends is news to you. The word is delicious. You want to say it more. “Oh, please. We’re only friends when it benefits you. How can I be so sure you aren’t tricking me?” 

“Now, we’re really not friendly.” 

A laugh bubbles past your lips once again, and you crawl over to him to try and make amends. “You’re the one who said it.” 

He turns his face from you. “Spare me.” 

“Seriously though, do you mean it? That you’d help me?” you ask. The proposition is too shiny to not consider. 

“It’s not as if I could harm you in any way,” he tells you, dropping the theatrics. “I think I’d like something in return for it, though.” 

You frown. Of course, in Faerie, there are no favors. “What would you want?” 

The kelpie’s eyes roam over your room for a moment, but it’s mostly for show, because his eyes come back on you with intent. He lifts his head at you in a pointing gesture. “Those letters,” he says.  

Frown deepening, you sit back. “The letters?” you say, trying to rein in your face. You don’t want him to see how awfully you want to cling to them. Having them is inconsequential when stood beside dealing with the geas, but still... “The ones from Yeonjun?” 

Eyes dancing with interest, he nods. “Those.” 

You pull them from behind you. They look a lot less pretty now, envelopes dented with your touches. You can’t see why he’d have any interest in them; they weren’t even for him. “Why?” you ask him. “They’re just letters.” 

Beomgyu nod his head in acknowledgment. “They are,” he says. “So why do they bother you as they do?” 

Pausing, you consider his words. Why do they? Yeonjun is a liar. You weren’t special—just a mission to him. You should hate him; seeing those letters full of flowery words and proclamations of love should anger you. And they do, they do anger you, but that doesn’t stop you from reading them. You’re not sure what you’re searching for in them. Closure? Proof of his lies? Or, excuses? 

Beomgyu has no interest in the letters. It’s his way of telling you that you need to grow a spine. You suppose it’s about time that you do just that. 

“Here.” You push them off into his hands. “You’ll do it, then?” 

The corners of his lips turn up. “Maybe...” 

You hiss and reach for your letters, but he tugs them toward himself and holds them safe out of your reach. 

“Give those back, you prick,” you say. “You don’t get them for free. It’s called a deal. You said you’d help me.” 

With his eyes dancing with wild mischievous intent, he pretends to think. “Did I?” 

You land a smack on his upper arm, groaning when it only sends his face more viciously taunting. That playing glint in his eyes is welcomed, though. At least you know he’s only playing. Otherwise, you might be more worried that he is genuinely screwing you over. “Stop playing tricks,” you say, furled out from gritted teeth. “You know you did. This is what got you here in the first place, idiot. I’m being serious.” 

His lip curls, and he relents. “Do not remind me.” 

“Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time?” you say, sending eyes with dagger points his way. “C’mon. Magic.” 

Looking kicked, he grabs your hand. It sends you back to the day you’d gotten that awful geas and the way Cricket had done the same thing. You’re going to fix that mistake. 

“I was just having my fun. I suffer a terrible drought of it here.” 

Your skin tickles, and you know he’s working on it. Heart doing nervous laps, you say, “Well, look whose roof we live under. It’s no wonder.” 

He likes that, wicked delight crackling over his features in just the same way his magic crackles through your veins. It’s a far cry from the last time you’d felt a sensation like this. It feels as though a beast of the wild is crashing through your bones like they’re hollow. It’s untamed, but you know just by the thrumming of it that his magic is much more refined and ancient than the geas’. Its claws brush up against your very core.  

You try and blink away the daze, deciding to distract yourself away from it with speech. “You know, I was thinking.” 

He raises his eyebrows, listening. His magic doesn’t falter as he offers you his attention; no need for his concentration. Not when he’s had centuries to become intimately familiar with it.  

“That maybe Yeonjun is a gancanagh,” you continue.  

A gancanagh—sugar-mouthed faeries with the power to send those around them enamored with them with only as much as their words. They’re better known for their other, and in your opinion more fitting, name: love-talker. You’d been so taken by Yeonjun, so weakened by him. The idea that perhaps it was all to the effect of some magic... You’re not sure whether it consoles you or makes it hurt more. Then again, it could also just be you trying to justify the mistakes you’d made. Your mind bends and twists around the thought, maybe the magic. Or, maybe, frustration. 

“A gancanagh,” he says. Beomgyu considers the notion for a moment, but still works his magic through you. “I’m not sure.” 

Not sure? You press the issue. “How are you not sure whether or not the prince is a gancanagh? I know you stay in your forest, but I imagine that you’d know that.” 

“Hmm.” He turns your arm as if trying for a new angle. “I believe that the prince’s mother is one of the sorrier kinds that the High King takes. He has his Ladies, and he has his courtesans. It seems that he was not so proud of her, since her name never reached my lands.” 

A bout of nausea rolls over your skull. His magic is so potent. The tidbit of information is enough to have you perking up despite it. “You think that his mother is a courtesan?” 

“Well, I know she is not a favored Lady. I know nothing of her. She could be gancanagh, or she could be any other thing.” He shoots you a pointed look. “I’m curious as to why you ask.” 

Skin clammy, you wipe at your cheek. “How long does this take?” you ask. 

“As long as I make it take,” he says, tilting his head off to one side. “Why are you worried of the prince’s heritage?” 

You know he’s fishing answers out of you. Shrugging, you tell him, “It was a genuine thought.” 

Nausea and buzzing subside as he releases your arm. “The King has many children. Only some were really considered for their father’s throne, though. I know that the young prince was never one of them. I suggest thinking on that.” 

You blow out a shuddering breath, controlled and small, to compose yourself under the weight of this new magic. “That’s it?” you ask, brushing some hair away from your face. “What did you do?” 

“Mostly, blocked.” 

“Elaborate,” you say, running fingers over your skin as if you might feel the magic there. 

Taken with amusement, he answers, “If the one who placed the geas there tries and play that card, they’ll find the pathways blocked.” He slumps back onto your bed. “It does not mean that the original magic is gone. It is still very much there. Just... hindered.” 

Your head swims. It’s not gone, but this... You know that your sleep will come to you easier now. Maybe it’s not foolproof, but this is much better. Much. 

“No more deals,” he tells you. “You’ve only got so much of yourself. Each time you fill yourself up with our magic, you lose that space. You will never be whole again, but you ought to savor what you’ve got left. You can only make the best of it.” His mud brown eyes are not joking, now. 

Blinking, you fumble out a nod. 

You’ll never be whole again. You hope that’s more a clever wording than the truth, but with the chill that grips your belly and brushes over the overfilled parts of you, you fear you can’t help but believe it. 

❆

You hate it. 

Drowning in it—you hate it. You hate the scarlet red of it, you hate the sticky spray of it on your skin, hate the cries of agony that follow its ceremony, and the feel of its blazing warmth fresh from the body. You’re choking. Swimming up with thrashing arms, it’s so thick that you make no way.  

The liquidity turns to sturdy arms. They cage you, grab your heart and twist, point daggers at your chest and they whisper words in your ears that you don’t want to remember. Your place is in the dirt, they say. You are nothing. A boot in your neck chokes you. You want to scream and cry that you are good, that you didn’t want to hurt them, that you’ll just mind your place if they take their boot off from your neck, but you can’t. You have no voice. 

The metallic tang of the blood follows you, even as you find yourself standing in Court. It stains the muddy floor a wretched color. A thousand eyes blaze on your skin.

You feel them looking at you. You want them to stop, but they laugh and laugh. Yeonjun joins them, looking up at you with vile mock.

“You think I’d beg for you?” he sneers. His sweet voice is warped and twisted into something ugly and mean that grates at your ears and heart. His laugh echoes, and then you’re looking up at him as he hovers over you. “You don’t deserve my begging. I hate you.”

Metal burns your nose, and when you look between the two of you, he’s bleeding from the stomach—from the dagger you’d plunged there. He looks up at you, livid eyes piercing you. “Look. Look what you did. You killed me.”

You shake your head frantically, going to hold his face. You try to tell him no, no you didn’t—you didn’t kill him, but still—

Shooting up, you grasp for breaths and clutch at the bedding. Heart thudding in your chest, you find Taehyun stood in your doorway, looking dragged from sleep. 

You adjust your sleep gown, disheveled with sleep and ridden up your thighs. Still piecing together consciousness, you croak out a, “Huh?” 

There, tickling at the back of your mind, you still smell blood. 

“I thought something was wrong,” he says, taking in the room with a thorough sweep. “You sounded...” Taehyun starts, but does not finish. “Since you’re doing fine, I’ll leave you to sleep.” 

“Stay?” you blurt, before he can turn and leave you here. Your voice comes out thinner and more fragile than you’d meant it to.  

Brows shooting up, Taehyun is hesitant to step into the room. “It’s probably hours before sunrise,” he says. “You don’t want to fall back asleep?” 

You shake your head. No, you don’t. If you do, then you’ll be back to drowning. You might not even be able to fall asleep at this point. The taste lingers. You’re still panting a little when you say, “I don’t want to bother you, but... Please.” 

Taehyun relents apprehensively, stopping just before the end of your bed. Moonlight blooms over his face from the window. It makes a show of his sharp cheek and jaw lines and emphasizes the feathering of his jaw around a hard swallow. “You were having a bad dream,” he says, an observation rather than a question. “About what?” 

Him standing over you like that; it doesn’t feel so easy to tell him that you’re haunted by what you’ve done. You wince at him and send a gesture up. “You don’t have to stand there. You can sit here.” You pat at the opposite end of your bed. 

He flexes one hand, a rare anxious gesture from him. “I wouldn’t just invite myself into a lady’s bed.” 

Well, he didn’t have to put it like that. 

You say, “I’m inviting you to sit down next to me, Taehyun...” 

It’s a few moments before he does, bed dipping beneath him. Like this, it feels much less like an interrogation. Insects buzz outside, singing their song to the stars and mercifully filling up the moment that you take to pluck up composure. He watches you, but doesn’t say anything. He waits. 

Catching a few strands of your scattered thoughts, you say, “Do you get nightmares sometimes? About the people you’ve killed?” It’s blunt and not much, but it’s all you have in you. It’s a thought that has served as a thorn in your side for quite a while now, too. Is it only you who’s had a prison made of their own mind? 

 Will it ever go away? 

Resolutely, he shakes his head. “No. I don’t.” 

“Oh.” You hold yourself a little harder, as if the chill that passes over you is a draft from the window and not bitter dread. “How? How can you not be bothered by it? They’re dead, and they’ll never be coming back. They had as many thoughts and wants as we did. They had mothers that might weep to know they’re gone. I can’t... I don’t stop thinking of them.” 

“It’s a bit too late for me to start feeling sorry for it,” Taehyun says. “You can’t let it rule you. Not everybody is good, and they were not. If they try to hurt you, you hurt them first. If they lay their hands on you, you cut them off.” 

You grow tense as he explains, eyes so heavy that you can practically feel the dark hollows beneath them. “Not even when you hurt someone for the first time? It didn’t bother you then?” 

He eyes you. The pine smell of him so close to you is both familiar and a distant memory. “I saw blood too early for it to ever haunt me.” 

Turning finally, you find his eyes. “I feel so guilty.” Your body buzzes with the need to curl into him, to have him comfort you for it, but you know that he won’t receive it the way you want him to. The way Yeonjun had.  

But you need it. You need it so bad right now. 

“That won’t absolve it. Guilt will not raise them from the dead,” he says. It’s forthright, but he doesn’t mean it to disconcert you. “You’re tearing yourself up inside, but there’s justice in protecting yourself.” 

Swallowing around tension, you nod. He’s right; you had every right to kill those times. You’ve known that the whole time. So, why does it still visit you in the deep hours of the night? You chant his words in your head, as if to beat them into your skull. If you try hard enough, you will. 

“What happens?” he asks, when the both of you have been quiet for too long. It’s strange to see him making attempts to fill silence. “In the dreams, what happens?” 

Shifting into a cozier position, you lean into the headboard by your shoulder. Some of the adrenaline has worked itself away, but remembering it is still bitter.  

You don’t miss the flickering of his eyes over the expanse of your thigh. You might’ve explained it away as a quick glance if that... look had not passed over his face. Restraint—darting eyes and his throat bobbing. It seems that his concern about being in your bed was about more than just propriety. 

“Mostly, blood.” You make a distraction out of the hemming of your blanket, pinching and picking at it. “So much of it. Sometimes the dreams are different, but... it’s always the common theme.” 

Acknowledging that, he dips his head in a slow, shallow nod. “We’ll start training you on the bow, then.” 

“The bow?” you ask.

“I think that the long range will be better for you,” Taehyun elaborates.

You drink his face in once more. In it, you see him reaching out a hand—it’s shaky and awkward and untrained. But under all that, you see that he’s trying. In the silver moonlight, the bow does not look so bad.

Taehyun doesn’t leave you until dawn cracks through the windows.

❆

You wish that you had your gloves. It’s freezing today—wind whipping your hair and teeth chattering even through your extensive layering. You have, like, two pairs of woolen stockings on. But Taehyun said that you’ll need to be able to grip the bowstring good, and so you abandoned them when you’d dragged all this on. 

He’d made good on his word. Now, you’re out in some shallow neck of the woods, and he’s pointing out the trees that you’re supposed to be using for targets. They’re obscured in the onslaught of snowy haze. You want to gripe that he’d picked the worst day to drag you out here, but really, you know it was a fully intentional choice. 

“No bullseye for now, just try and hit them wherever you can manage.” Taehyun makes a gesture up at the array of trees. “Don’t forget that the wind is blowing west. You’ll have to adjust for that.” 

He watches you take up an arrow, quiet as you clumsily wiggle it around until it sits in a spot that feels relatively correct. 

“Higher,” he finally says. “Find the rest for the arrow, and then you’ll find the nocking point on the string.” 

You fumble with the placement some more, freezing fingers not as agile as they could be. Just as he said, the arrow falls into a place where it sits comfortably. “This?” 

He hums, voice closer. “That’s good. Now, you lift it just like that. Don’t lose that hold, and pinch the back of the arrow, behind the feathers, with your knuckles.” 

Raising the bow, you’re so concentrated on keeping the arrow in place that it shocks you how hard it is to pull the bowstring. The further back you pull it, the more force it demands from you. You only manage to bring it halfway before you stop. “Woah.” 

Wind stops brushing your cheeks and hair so hard, and Taehyun’s voice comes from right beside you this time. “Harder than you thought it’d be, huh?” he says, smirk in his voice matching the one you find on his mouth when you turn to look at him. “It’s going to be hard for a while. You’ve got to build up the muscle for it. For now, you just have to power through it.” 

You try again, finding the spot where your muscles protest and then going beyond it. Your arms tremble, some spot in the middle of your chest aching with it. You sift through the trees, rushing to find one to release the arrow on before you can no longer maintain the hold. 

“Stand straighter.” He reaches over to adjust your arm, pulling the string-wielding one even further back and forcing your chest further open. Your arms burn. You’re not sure how much longer you can hold like this. 

“Hurry,” you say. 

“Go ahead.” 

Deciding on the nearest tree, you let the string go from between aching fingertips. It misses and passes the tree to land somewhere in the foliage behind it, but not as awfully as you’d expected. Hissing, you shake out your arms and stretch your shoulders to try and kill the burn, but it lingers. “You made that look a lot easier than it really is,” you tell him. 

“My first shot looked a lot like that,” he says, leaned back into a tree. “That was a great first try. I should’ve had you on the bow earlier.” He motions to the bow. “Show me another one.” 

Arms still ringing, you sloppily repeat. None of the arrows meet their mark, and you get worse with each. You’d done so well with the first one, though. Frustration sparks in your chest, catching into a flame when this one misses as well. The cramping in your shoulders and the gnawing of frost at your fingers do not help your temper. “Guess that was beginner’s luck,” you say, jaw tense. “I can’t shoot for shit, now.” 

Pushing himself off the tree, Taehyun approaches you once more and says, “It helps if you breathe out before letting the arrow go, but it’s mostly that your arms are tired. Today isn’t about aim, it’s about repetition.” Now in front of you, his eyes dart down to your mouth, but it’s a split-second look. You’d have missed it with a blink. You want to ask him why he keeps looking at you like that—like how he had in your bed that one night. You don’t want to make the air awkward, though.  

To be more honest with yourself, you’re afraid to ask. You’re afraid what the answer might be; you have don’t even have the foggiest clue. “Maybe we should go back. I’ll just stick with what I know.” 

“So, you’ll just give it up when it gets hard?” he says, a little ticked off. A muscle in his jaw feathers.  

You wonder what he’s thinking, beyond just what he’s saying. What he feels beyond what he’ll let you see. The reason that Taehyun dropped the spy life the moment you’d told him you’d stay here with Yeonjun is still just as elusive to you. You’re no fool—you’d seen the look that passed over his face when you had. It had brought a chill down your spine, something hollow but also desperate. Taehyun does not seem like the type taken to puppy love. He does not seem like the type to follow whims, either. So, what is this? You’re unsure what to make of it, and what to make of him.

You two had been snapping teeth and blazing arguments, but what lays beneath that? Why does the impenetrable man let you get under his skin the way he does? 

“Yes,” you say, just to ruffle some feathers. “I’ll just keep working on swordplay.” 

He catches the bait. “Then, what are we out here for? I thought close combat was bothering you.” Flakes of fluffy snow sit on his hair, white petals against black. “And, it doesn’t hurt to diversify your skillset. Not with a war looming.” 

Frustration gives way to softness. Taehyun doesn’t have to be out here. He has no obligations to help you with your ridiculous, pitiful dreams. You’re thankful for it, no matter how rugged he comes across while doing it. “I’m just messing with you. You make it too easy,” you say, offering him a smile. Beneath it, you’re left reeling with the reminder about the war. In your choosing to omit it from your thoughts, you’d just about forgotten about it. Anxiety comes crashing back through the crumbling dam. By now, the King has absolutely realized that Yeonjun is not coming back. Does he think that the north has hurt him or holds him hostage? He might start the war himself, then. A thought dawns upon you. That might’ve been the intention all along—to have him start things, to remain faultless. Taehyun had said that the Queen is a scheming sovereign. 

“War,” you say, licking over chapped lips. “Do you think it’ll really happen? That it’ll come to battles?” You can’t help worrying. You’ve chosen your side in staying here. What if that was the wrong choice? What if your betrayal comes around to bite you? Or, what if the north’s reputation for brutality ends up doing the job before it ever can? You feel surrounded by death—surrounded by walls of violence, where too far in one direction would be your end. “It’s not as if I’ll be fighting, though.” 

Face solemn, he says, “Let’s start heading back.” 

That draws no complaints from you, tucking fingers under your arms to try and save them. He hadn’t answered your question, though. “Taehyun?” 

Brittle leaves and brush crunch underfoot. “It’s coming.” 

Narrowing your eyes at him, tensed in the shoulders, you ask, “Why are you acting like that? Are you hiding something from me?” 

The both of you pause to let a dryad scurry off, snow falling off its bark skin in chunks as it crashes through the forest and away from you. These woods are a lot fuller than the ones you’d found Beomgyu in. 

“Taehyun,” you repeat. Your stomach is sick. Skin burning, you get flashes of memories—of Yeonjun’s guilty eyes that night. It rushes through your bloodstream like icy water. This feels like an overreaction, but your body does not align with your stuttering heart. You can’t tamp it down. “What is it? I don’t like secrets.” Your voice comes out fragile, like it’ll break in the frigid air like ice and fall down to the ground in a crash. 

His face is hard. You don’t like that, either. 

“You’re not going to be fighting, but I know what is planned. It’s messy; messy and dirty. And dirty wars are not afraid of collateral damage.” 

Frowning, you ask, “How do you know what’s planned?” 

“It’s a general’s job to know the war he leads his army into.” 

You stop dead. “Are you serious?” you snap, voice on a tight leash. “Seriously, Taehyun?” He keeps walking, forcing you to tear your feet from their spot to follow him. Jogging to match his stride, you say, “So, you’re just going to take up his will? You’re going to lead a war, like him? What about me, Taehyun? What happens to me?”  

It seems that he’s fully taken over his role as heir to his father and his estate, but why? Why, if he sheared off his own ears to escape that legacy? Taehyun’s moral code has exceptions for violence, but he said it himself—he doesn’t like senseless killing. Not like what would come with taking on this role.  

“Being general secures me a seat while they discuss their plans. It means I have sway in what happens. This is not for my enjoyment, or for power, like how my father saw it,” he says, measured and steady. “You’ve not seen a Faerie war. They’re given to dramatics, and they span... they span long. If something is going to happen, it’s better off that I’m in the room that they discuss it. Otherwise, we’re just sitting here and crossing out fingers that we don’t get caught in the crossfire.” Head held high, he adds, “This is my duty.” 

Anxiety warms your frozen bones. “Duty?” you say through a caustic laugh. “You’ll be going to war, Taehyun.” 

“Not petty battles. If something more drastic happens, I suppose I would, but being a foot soldier is not my role in this. Maybe my father would’ve, just to see the blood and carnage, but not me,” he says, as if that makes it any better. 

“I don’t like this.” 

“They know we were here as spies. They could decide at any moment to kill us. As general, my position would protect us.” He levels you a stare, hard. “You decided to stay here for him, so this is what I have to do.” 

A terrible sickness settles in your stomach with his words. These are the consequences to your actions, for your overenthusiasm, but you feel more like a burden than sorry for yourself.  

You want to tell him to stop paying the prices; that it’s not his job, but a chilly breeze sings in your ears that it’s much too late for that.  

  ❆

Biting back complaints and the prickling of tears, you let Conifer work on your hair. She’s merciless with the tugs and pins, fingers threading through strands to tug them up into the frilly and loose updo.  

“Why do I need to be dressed?” you ask her, watching her work dutifully behind you through the mirror. 

“My Lady,” she says around a pin she holds in between her lips. “One moment.” 

“You don’t have to call me Lady, or anything,” you tell her, wincing at the sound of it. “I’m no more a Lady than you.” She’d come into your room, nervously plucking at the pine needles on her forearms as she informed you that she needed to get you prettied up. It’s random, but you’d perked up immediately. It’s been so long since you’ve done anything—so long since you had a reason to look pretty and drag on glittering dresses. Not doing the work yourself is strange, though. You wonder if this is what your life would’ve been with Yeonjun, with servants waiting at every corner to pamper you and make sure that your hands never again see any type of hard work.  

You shake those thoughts away. That’s not your life here in Taehyun’s estate. It does you no use comparing. You’re not so used to this, anyway. It gets under your skin a bit, though you know they’re working off debts in his service.  

“Oh, the Lord would prefer that I do,” she says. A sharp pin scrapes up against your scalp as she pushes it in, securing up a willowy tress. All Yeonjun’s gifts—the dress she’d laid out for you, and the jewels she garnishes you in. How strange is it to have Taehyun’s servants dressing you in Yeonjun’s things? You still don’t know why he even bothered with bringing them in. You all were managing before. It's not as if any of you are the type to demand being waited on, anyway. You all have lived in more humble means. Beomgyu literally comes from the forest. And, why would it even matter how she addresses you to Taehyun? 

It wouldn’t be fair of you to demand her to call you otherwise, then. You nod. “I’m sorry you have to work for me.” 

“Oh, it’s no bother, dear. I’m grateful that the Lord has chosen such a way for me to pay him for my debt.” She tugs a few tendrils loose. It looks now more like the style is worn in by a good night spent dancing and laughing than freshly combed up. “There are worse ways to do so.” 

That’s right. For her, servitude is only a result of some extrenuating circumstance. Your servitude was nowhere near your fault. That’s where the difference lies; why she can be so blithe about it. 

“What happened?” you ask. It’s an invasive question, sure, but you prefer to ask it straight. No buttering it up or smoothing over words. 

“The late General spared my life on a whim. I’d worked this estate for years, even watched the boy grow into his manhood, until the General passed and the young Lord went disappearing. No reason to work an empty estate. And now, by bloodline, my debt is owed to him.” 

You frown. Serving under Taehyun’s father, only because he decided out of the kindness of his heart to not murder you, sounds harrowing.  

“But, that’s of no importance, dear. The Lord is expecting you; the Queen holds council soon.” Hastily, Conifer slides one last pin in, just for safe measure. “It’s terribly important that you maintain good manners, dear. Stay by the Lord, and do not speak unless they speak to you.” 

Council? He’s expecting you to come with him to a war council? You pause, but she ushers you up and away. 

Bounding down the stairs in a flurry of feet, you hold your skirts in a death grip, heart clenching with nerves. Once, you’d been a mirror to this—panicking over attending Court for the first time. That was nothing. If you had been oblivious to Court propriety, sitting in on a Faerie council in the presence of the Queen and her entourage... You’re screwed. So, so screwed. 

Taehyun waits beside the blackthorn tree. Noticing you, he greets, “Ready?” 

“You’re serious about this?” you say. It’s hard to speak around the lump in your throat. “Why do I have to come? It seems more like a risk than anything.” 

Brows furrowed, he adjusts his tunic. “You’re smart, aren’t you?” he says, cadence flat and matter-of-fact. “It’s not a risk. I’m bringing you so that they know you’re with me. You won’t have to come to any more after this, unless it’s what you want.” 

Frowning, you say, “I feel as though they’ll react not so kindly to a human just... waltzing into a war council. You really think they’ll just let me come and sit in?” The Queen will be there, and all the terrifyingly massive players in the Unseelie Court, and then... You. You’ll just have to make yourself seem important enough to be there. Taehyun is one of those invaluable players now, you suppose. The General. Your mind still struggles to wrap itself around the enormity of that.  

Will Yeonjun be there? He’s no doubt got the status. You pick at your fingers viciously. You’re not ready to see him again; not sure if you’ve fortified your walls enough for that yet. You might crumple with just a glance, but to sit in the same room as him? 

“They’ll trust my judgement,” he says. The lines of his face do not carry the same confidence that his voice does. “You’re not just stumbling in. You’re walking in with me.” 

“But, I’m sure they’re all very aware by now that we were spies. Doesn’t that leave a stain on your word?” 

He reaches up to a low-hanging branch, dark and bristling with thorns, and snaps off the very ends of them into thin poles of twig armed with spikes. The thistles remind you of his eyes—in fact, the whole tree does. Barbed and dark and sturdy; the House of Blackthorn could not have better chosen their symbol.  

“They made me their general,” he says, circling until he’s come behind you. “They’ve already made up their minds.” 

Tugging at your hair tells you that he’s wiggling those sticks, black and sharp, into the updo, as if they’re accessories. It’s like what he’d done with those berries just before you’d gone to Court for the first time, but these twigs do not act like a ward like they had.  

You turn to interrogate him and his sudden interest in your hairstyle, but confusion splinters off into nothing when his cold hand brushes at the back of your neck. In a heart-pounding moment, his sword-roughened fingers drag down the length of your jaw from behind. He grabs your chin his hand and turns your face further toward your shoulder. Snowflakes and the breeze and the stars all stand frozen around you. Or, maybe, you haven’t got the will to pretend they exist while he’s leaning down so that he’s right in your ear and whispering with puffed breaths that raise chills on your skin. 

Under his breath, low and just for your ears, he says just one word. It’s one that you don’t recognize, curling in a way that you doubt your tongue would be able to even pronounce. As quickly as the moment had come, he releases your face. Snow crunches under his feet as he retreats. 

Blinking for a moment, you spin on your heel to follow him. You make a point to not catch his stride fully, though. He absolutely should not see how ruffled you are. “What does that mean?” 

He doesn’t answer, only leaving you in a flustered, charged silence. You beg the wintry breeze to carry away your racing thoughts, or at least to lick at your cheeks and cool them. Whatever it was that he’d said, you can only assume it to be in an ancient Faerie tongue. 

With a stuttering heart, you follow him. You’ll just have to whistle in the dark. If you don’t do it scared, you won’t do it at all, and you’re always scared. 

❆

Inside the council room, a handful of who you assume to be the Queen’s most important advisors sit around a circle table. On that table stand war maps and a collection of letters and objects no doubt important to plans and intel. 

In one of those seats sits Yeonjun. Of course, he’s here. You’d anticipated as much, but that doesn’t change the way you jump right out of your skin the split second your eyes meet. It’s a fiery exchange, sending sparks up your spin and rendering your mind a blistering mess. His eyes are hard. He doesn’t shy away from it the way you do, tearing yourself away to sit in the seat next to Taehyun’s.  

It’s not just Yeonjun’s eyes that burn on your skin. They’re wondering why you’re here. You itch to dip out and away from their scrutiny. 

“Do I have to say anything?” you say, voice barely anything but a whisper as you lean over to Taehyun. “Like, announce myself or anything?” 

“Not now,” he says. “Not unless you’re asked to.” 

Fidgeting with your dress under the table, you dip your head in a shallow, quick nod. You’ll just mind your own, unless you’re forced to do otherwise. You can’t risk saying something that’ll end up screwing you both over. 

Chairs scrape the floor, faeries standing and dipping at the waist. You follow them. Your back is to the door, but you don’t need to see to know who’s arrived. The Queen. 

She sits in her seat, at the head of the table, and everybody else follows. You swallow hard. Her eyes, hardened and storm-colored, pin each of the attendees as she sweeps the room. A diadem of twigs and rotted leaf lays on her tangle of hair. The Unseelie Queen; she looks the part. Breath catches in your throat when her eyes come to you. 

When she opens her mouth to speak, jagged teeth reveal themselves from behind grey lips. “The human girl. Does the Blackthorn house claim her?” she asks. Her voice commands the air—both slackened and imposing. 

Yeonjun’s eyes bare down on you.  

Taehyun answers her. “Yes. She is my retinue.” 

One of the council members, with a haughty, long face and a sneer to match it, says, “Is this the girl that you sang so profusely to us for, prince? The spy girl?” His ruffled sleeves flourish as he gestures. He’s dressed especially plummy among them, but they all are dressed in glittering robes and tunics. This faerie no doubt thinks highly of himself, though, to be poking at Yeonjun.  

Yeonjun had spoken of you here?  

You feel a little frozen. Becoming the center of their attention is the very last thing you’d wanted. Rather than sinking back into your seat, you claw at your insides to keep your head held high. You do exchange a quick glance with Taehyun, who’s mouth is pulled taut.  

He takes it in stride. “Yes, it is.” 

“You beseeched us for her safety, but...” the black-haired faerie continues, “She’s sat beside our General.” A cruel smile plays on his lips. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “And I believe it to be unprecedented that a human joins us here, your highness.” He turns to the Queen, a smile that tells exactly of the game he’s playing. 

“Not here,” the Queen snaps. “We haven’t the time for this. Who cares. Let’s not waste what slight time we have, with all of us in attendance.” 

The black-haired faerie snaps his mouth shut, but a nasty attitude lingers. 

Another speaks up. “Your majesty, is there not something to be said of the exclusivity pertaining to who we meet here with?” 

She drums her fingers on the arm of her seat. Bored. “Be gone with it. I did not know you’d become so wary of humans.” 

That stings. You’re not even worthy of being a threat. Jaw tightened, you grit your teeth. 

“She has ears,” he says. “And a well-working mouth, I’m sure, and we have delicate issues to discuss.” 

None of them press any further as she sends them a pointed stare. They begin offering up and discussing their positions and knowledge, much of it lost on you. All you’re thankful for is that most of it is bickering over how to approach the war, and not plans for full-fledged schemes.  

Taehyun offers up his approach a few times, his voice carrying strong and his shoulders squared. Yeonjun does not speak much at all.  

And when it’s over and everybody disassembles, you know you’ve got to leave. Fast; fast enough that Yeonjun will not be able to corner you into a conversation that you are too flimsy to be having. As you do, though, you war against every instinct in your body—heart and feet and arms ringing pleas in your bones. You can’t. Really, you can’t. 

“Pretty.”  

That voice, smooth but also so very sullen now, shatters your frenzied bubble. You go solid and frozen to the ground. 

“Pretty, look at me,” he grits out, voice cracked down and raw.  

When you don’t, he steps around you. His eyes dart up, taking in something on your head, and then his jaw ticks when he finds something he doesn’t like. The blackthorn twigs in your hair. 

He’d looked sullen and detached when sitting at the table, but here, up close, he looks awful—far and beyond worse than you’ve ever seen him. It’s as if you’d ripped the heart right out of his chest and asked him to go on living without it. In the hollowness there’s a sadness, but there’s also a blazing anger. 

A frozen hand takes your upper arm and tugs hard. “Come on. We’re leaving.” Taehyun’s voice is hard. 

You stumble forward with him, summoning the will within you to not look back while you do. You do not want to watch his face as you leave. You absolutely cannot. Your gut twists viciously.  

You’re pathetic, missing him the way you do. 

❆

When you get the first letter, you accept it from the servant uneasily. You don’t even ask whose letter it is. The wax seal tells you enough, but you’d know even without it. Yeonjun has broken his silence. 

It confuses you. Taehyun had intercepted his letters when he sent them before. Why does he not bother, now? It doesn’t feel like a kindness. It feels intentional—like a gambit. Beomgyu had made a point to take those original letters from you. You know he meant well in the cheeky way that he shows his companionship, but you’re spineless after all, and they come at a very weak moment. Just as you’ve built up wavering pillars, he reaches in and crumbles them down as if they were nothing.  

ℐ 𝑘𝓃𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝑡𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑘 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝑡’𝓈 𝑙𝒾𝑒𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝑡 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓅𝒶𝑟𝓉 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓁. 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝒾𝑛𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝑡 𝓅𝒶𝑟𝓉 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝑙. 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝓇𝑦 𝒷𝒾𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝑙. 𝐹𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝓇𝑦 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝑛𝓉 ℐ 𝑙𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝑡𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝒹. 𝒩𝑜 𝑙𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑟 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉. 𝒲𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝒹; 𝒲𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝑣𝑒𝒹 𝑡𝑟𝓊𝑒.  

𝐼’𝓂 𝓈𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝑦 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉𝒾𝑛𝑔 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝑦 𝒸𝒾𝓇𝒸𝓊𝓂𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝑡𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝒸𝓉 𝑙𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 ℐ’𝒹 𝒽𝓊𝑟𝓉 𝑦𝑜𝓊. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝓌 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝑟𝓊𝑒. 𝒟𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝑘𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝑟𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝑙𝒾𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓈𝑜.  

𝒴𝑜𝓊𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓊𝑛𝓉 𝓂𝑒. 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝑦 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝑙𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝑛, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑦𝑒𝓉 ℐ 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒾𝓉 ��𝓋𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉.  

𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝑛𝒹 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝓊𝑟 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓈𝑡 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝒾𝓉. 𝐼 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓇𝑣𝑒 𝒾𝓉. 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝑡 𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓎 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉; 𝐼 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝑙𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒹𝑟𝑜𝓅 𝑜𝑓 𝒾𝓉. 𝒯𝑒𝓁𝑙 𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑓𝒾𝓍 𝑡𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝑛𝒹 ℐ’𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝑣𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝒶𝓈𝑘 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑛𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝑡𝒽𝒶𝓉.  

𝒴𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒿𝓊𝑛 

You’re able to let this one roll off your shoulders, but the next few are not so easy. 

𝐼 𝑤𝒾𝑠𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ℎ𝑎𝒹 𝑠𝓉𝒶𝓎𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑙𝒾𝓈𝑡𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒. 𝐼 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝑟𝓈𝑡𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑤𝒽𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃’𝑡, 𝑎𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝑡, 𝐼 𝑠𝓉𝒾𝓁𝑙 𝑤𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ℎ𝒶𝒹. ℐ’𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝒾𝑠𝑡𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊.  

𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 ℐ 𝑝𝓁𝒶𝑔𝓊𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝓊𝑟 𝑚𝒾𝓃𝒹. 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝑓𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝑤𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝓈 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑡, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝑡 𝑏𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝑏𝒶𝒸𝑘 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒, 𝑡𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝓂𝑒: 𝑚𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝓂𝑠. 𝒲𝒾𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒, 𝓃𝑜𝓉 ℎ𝒾𝑚. 𝒩𝑜𝓉 ℎ𝒾𝑚.  

𝒫𝑒𝓇𝒽𝒶𝓅𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝑙 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓅𝑡 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝑏𝓊𝑡 𝐼 𝑤𝒾𝓁𝑙 𝓃𝑜𝓉. 𝒯ℎ𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝑡𝒽 𝓊𝓃𝑓𝒾𝓃𝒾𝑠𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝑤𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑟𝒾𝑒𝑣𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝑠.    

𝑁𝑜. 𝒯ℎ𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝑠𝓃’𝑡 𝑒𝓃𝒹.   

𝒴𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒿𝓊𝓃 

The letters change with your prolonged silence, too. 

𝒮𝑒𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑟𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝑏𝓎 ℎ𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒, 𝒶𝓈 𝒾𝑓 𝓎𝑜𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓈… 𝒟𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑤𝒶𝑛𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝒸𝑟𝒶𝓏𝓎? 𝐼 𝒹𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 ℐ’𝓋𝑒 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝓉 𝓈𝑜 𝑜𝑢𝓉 𝑜𝑓 𝓂𝓎 𝑜𝓌𝑛 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙 𝒶𝓈 𝐼 𝒹𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑤. 𝐼𝑓 𝓉ℎ𝒶𝓉 𝑤𝒶𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝒾𝑛𝑡𝑒𝓃𝑡𝒾𝑜𝑛, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ℎ𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝑢𝓇 𝓂𝒶𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙. 

𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑛𝑢𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝒾𝓈 𝑏𝒶𝑛𝒾𝓈ℎ𝓂𝑒𝑛𝓉 𝒾𝑓 𝓎𝑜𝑢 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉, 𝑏𝓊𝓉 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝑛. 𝐼𝑡'𝓈 𝑜𝓃𝑙𝓎 𝑓𝒶𝓉𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌ℎ𝑜 𝒶𝓂 𝐼 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒 𝑤𝒾𝑡ℎ 𝑓𝒶𝑡𝑒?  

𝒴𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒿𝑢𝓃 

It’s jarring, it’s more of that desperate pleading that you’ve been trying so hard to escape, and it’s burrowing deep down into the tender parts of your heart like a stake. 

There are some letters that are even more frenzied than that. They’re testaments to his promises: this doesn’t end. 

You had been sorely mistaken in thinking that Yeonjun would just step away. Terribly mistaken. Deep in your belly brews the feeling that this is not going to go over as smoothly as you hoped it would. In retrospect, how had you ever thought you could cleanly tear him off you? This is not like ripping off a bandage—quick and painful—no, this will be much, much more unpleasant than that. Yeonjun had done a delicate job of veiling just how wretchedly he loves you, but you’d seen peeks of it. Flickers and moments of potent neediness and jealousy, quickly smoothed over with something more groomed and palatable. Now, you see it in full force. As soon as given the need to unveil himself, he was not afraid to. As long as it brings him you. 

But he will not get you. You’re not yet so foolish to go falling back into his arms. Not after you’d done just that, and then learned what trusting him just based off his inability to lie meant. It’s not as if you’re not already slowly wanting to forgive him for the fact that his initial job was to kill you. In weak moments, you construct excuses. But if you brush off lie after lie, where is the limit to the lies you’ll accept, if only just for him? There would be none. That is a dangerous beast to toe.  

You think you know now, why Taehyun lets you read those letters freely.  

  ❆

Lifting your fist to knock on the door, you bounce on your heels. Taehyun tells you to come in, voice muffled behind the door. 

Stepping in, you drink in the sight of his quarters. Not once in the months that you’ve spent here have you been in his room. In the center is the bed, bedding coal black. His desk is cluttered with maps and stray daggers. Taehyun works on the strap to his leather baldric, looking up to you.  

“Where are you going?” you ask him.  

“They called me for council,” Taehyun answers. He straightens up. “What’s up?” 

You purse your lips. “Oh,” you say. “Nothing. I was just seeing what you were up to.” 

Honestly, you’re not entirely sure why you’d stumbled in here. It had just felt right in that moment. It couldn’t hurt to try and mend the tensions that lay between you two, anyway. If this is going to be your home, it’s better off that way. 

Taehyun nods slowly, as if he’s not entirely sure what to say. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. 

A smile tugs at your mouth. Beneath the confident, hardened exterior, Taehyun is stiff in the face of emotional connection. “Didn’t want me to join you for this one?” 

He shakes his head, the lines in his shoulders stiffening as if the thought were offensive. 

Scoffing around a laugh, you say, “I didn’t do that bad, did I?” It’s more to pester him than offense—you’d had your fill. And you want to know what’s changed; why he’s suddenly averse to you joining.  

Jaw shifting, he says, “No, you didn’t.” Taehyun brings his hand up and adjusts his collar. “I’d just prefer it.” 

You change tack. His face has fallen a bit, and you’d intended to lighten things up. “It’s fine. That was boring anyway,” you say, “Besides, I’d prefer it here, with the army of servants waiting to see to my needs.” Tilting your head to one side, you give him a grin chock-full of mock pretension. 

His brow furrows. “The servants? Do you not like it?” 

Shrugging, you answer, “I don’t hate it. It’s nice to have help getting ready, though, I guess. Makes me feel special.” To quell your own gnawing curiosity that’s been festering beginning the moment the first one had arrived, you add, “Why’d you do it, though?” 

His face flickers. “The estate needs to be run. They have duty to do so. If it were going to be anybody, it’s them.” 

You know that look. Living with Taehyun, you’ve got to become fluent in the face and even the most subtle changes. What he doesn’t speak in words, you’re forced to find there. Try as he might to fortify his mask, water will always find and slip through the cracks as slivers of true emotion crack through his face. He’s not telling you the truth. You narrow your eyes. 

“Yeah. I understand that. I just thought we were doing fine before, I guess.” 

“I thought...” he says. “Did the prince not keep servants?” 

Your frown deepens. Why would it matter whether or not Yeonjun has servants? Of course he’d have attendants; he’s a prince of Faerie. Mind churning for a moment, you stumble upon a thought. Or rather, it stumbles upon you. 

Taehyun had brought servants here because he figured that, because of your time with Yeonjun, you’d want that. It bothered him to think that Yeonjun could provide something for you that he couldn’t. He’d gone out and tracked down faeries indebted to him and his father because that got under his skin. You think to that morning he’d woken you up, spitting venom, because Yeonjun had sent you those dresses. And in his arm, he’d held a single crystalline gown. 

“Taehyun, why did you tell Yeonjun about our kiss?” 

For a split second, he’s taken aback, shifting as though you’d lit a fire under his feet. The air hangs heavy—so, so thick. It’s so stiff that you have to breathe with conscious effort. This silence, tense and on the brink of snapping, stretches for an eternity. Your mind reels; you’re just as caught off guard as him. You haven’t the faintest clue where you’d trudged up the nerve, but you had, and now you’re terribly curious to know his answer. The memory had hovered around, blazing and impossible to brush off, from the very moment the words had tumbled out from Yeonjun’s lips. How had you even lasted this long, pretending it hadn’t happened? All off that electric curiosity comes to a head here—now—and you do not know if you’ve prepared well enough for the truth of it. 

As silent as it is, the moment buzzes. It’s deafeningly loud, just as it is deafeningly quiet. His silence answers just as well as words.  

His answer slices the air, cutting through the tension like a scalding knife. “The prince told you that?” 

You step toward him, looking up at him through your lashes. “He did," you say, quick and dismissive. “Why did you tell him? When?” 

A flash—a flash of something untamed and deep like the woods—renders his eyes dark. You remember that look; he’d scarcely let you see it. It had scrawled under your skin the first time he had. Something in it strips you down to your very bones, where you are nothing more than buzzing soul and heat. Taehyun approaches you in dark, languid steps. You’re lightheaded, breaths lodged deep in your chest. Any semblance of clarity you might have had becomes a lost cause as he takes your face in his hands and leaves you no other option than to meet those smoldering eyes. Bitterly cold hands bite into the soft skin of your cheeks. Cold-blooded. 

Your head spins. “Taehyun?” you say, short and breathless. Even just a naked whisper of his name, you struggled to manage it. Him, here, in front of you, is both so real that it rattles you down to you core and so intangible that you wouldn’t dare believe it. And yet, blistering eyes pierce through the mist, and you know that it is sickeningly real.  

“Fuck,” he says, mouth turned down and at war with the rest of his face. He’s so close that you feel the word on your face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” His throat bobs. “I don’t know who this is.” 

In a stumble of clumsy feet, you clash with the desk in a rattle. There’s hardly any perch for you, but in a scramble, you curl your fingers white-knuckled around the edge. He has you pinned between him and the wood with nowhere to breathe and nowhere to think. A controlled, shaky breath comes tumbling from behind your lips. Electricity crackles in the air between you, and you’re weak to it. You turn your head away, clawing for some semblance of control or respite from the bare intensity. 

Despite your shock, somewhere deep, deep down in your belly, you know that this is only the fruit of some howling storm that has been swirling—swirling and churning and gaining power. You’d felt the trembling of it, the promise of something explosive and imminent, as oblivious as you were to its source. Now, the ground cracks open beneath you, and it will accept nothing other than to swallow you whole. 

“Do you not think of me as a man?” he grits out. Since you’ve decided to blatantly avoid his gaze, he gets down right into your neck. “Well, I am. And you brought him here. Brought him into my home, and you let him touch you. ” 

Taehyun had been there that day.  

It’s as if time itself slows down around you. This moment inflates into something infinite. Everything that he’d done, every little thing that you’d struggled to digest, is laid out before you. He’s holding your hips as if you’ll fade around the edges and leave him here. There’s something raw beneath the growled words; something desperate. 

Belly flipping ruthlessly, you speak, but they’re not coherent thoughts. “I... didn’t think that...” 

He’s quick to cut you off, rearing back to look you in the eyes once more, forcing you to do the same. And he holds you there. “Do you think that he can provide for you better than me? That I can’t provide you your needs?” 

Your heart is a ravenous, wild thing in your chest. All that he’d done: the dress, the servants, finding Beomgyu, staying here in the north, demanding that you don’t depend or even associate with Yeonjun, urging you to not attend Court because he knew Yeonjun would be there—was because it was supposed to be him. And it was killing him because finally something had managed to drive right through that suit of ice armor he struggles so hard to keep up, right down to where his real emotions slumber, and he is forced to feel something. In all that banishing emotion away, he’s now faced with this blazing consumption, and he is utterly lost. 

Taehyun curses, a relenting of his will, before he’s taking your lips to his. It’s a ravaging, fervent meeting, clashing teeth and roaming hands with no destination. He lifts you up onto the desk, and then his hand finds the hair at the very back of your head. You remember this wild dance of tongue and mouth—the first time he’d put his mouth on you, it’d been just the same. You’re gasping and clawing at his shoulders.  

What on earth are you doing? 

His hands are all over you. It’s as if he can’t get enough, as if he’s catching up to all that had been bursting at the seams in his mind. His lips taste like finally. When he’s forced to release your lips for air, it’s not as if he gives you any real room to breathe—his lips fall like glowing ashes down the column of your neck. You’re helpless to the whines he takes from your lips. He melds your bodies into one clumsy thing, pushing you down into the desk in a clumsy clatter. He wholly overwhelms you, and you think that it is a conscious effort. He intends to wiggle his way into every little corner, every little space, until you have no room for thought but him. If the drunken haze that’s rendered your thoughts sluggish is anything to speak of his efforts, he’s succeeded. 

You catch yourself halfway down, before your back makes it down onto the desk. His mouth is back on yours, spinning with the sting of your scalp as he guides you through his kiss. His hands reach your upper thigh, making slow work of bunching the fabric. 

“If you knew,” he says, appreciating the bare skin as if it were as precious as jewel and gold the same way he had that night in your bed: as if every inch were just as intimate as a glimpse of your cunt. “If you knew what I think about doing to you.”  

Blood roars beneath your skin. The confession that Taehyun has thought about touching you like this, or the fact that he’s been battling against his own mind in the onslaught of those thoughts, sheds a new light over so much. Beneath that stony face, he’d been needing you.  

Through the licking of your bottom lip and the buzzing behind your skull, you see Yeonjun’s face. Your stomach does a flip. You’re not supposed to feel guilty. You shouldn’t, but guilt slices like a molten dagger through the haze. How can you be here, doing this, when he’s out there aching for you? As far as you distance yourself from his sphere, you’re still reminded of who taught you your body now that another man touches you. You imagine how hurt he’d be if he saw you now. 

You rage against those thoughts. You owe no guilt to the man that had only ever approached you because you were his target. 

Taehyun’s gaze meets yours. You must’ve gone quiet, or maybe still. Perhaps it’s your eyes that gives it away, though, because he does not like what he finds in them. In a blink, he’s retracting back into his shell.  

“You’re thinking of him,” he spits. His voice is so caustic and venomous as it falls out that your skin burns. “Even while I’m touching you.” 

You want nothing more than to reach in and pull that fire and raw emotion back out. He pulls away. Your skin is painfully empty of his touch. Chest aching, you say, “Taehyun, wait. Please. I wasn’t.” The lie rolls off your tongue too easily, but you can’t stand the chill fallen over your form. 

His face is far off and distant, his jaw set tight. He runs a hand through his hair, made a mess with your touch, the action punctuated by a barbed laugh. 

He doesn’t even say anything more to you when he leaves the room. He just leaves. You sit for a few minutes, legs dangling and blood roaring.  

Taehyun has kept a lot beneath a jaded and aloof front, but it seems that even he has a tipping point.  

❆

“That reeks,” Beomgyu says. He’s sat on the basin, legs dangling down. 

The water embraces you in a delightful lukewarm that disarms your nerves and has you drowsy. “Soap?” you say with a subsequent rich snort. You scoot, bathwater lapping at the walls of the tub when you bring your knees to your chest. The round tub is big enough for you to sprawl out, but you prefer sitting right up against the wall. Only the suds and perfumed oils sitting in a thin, hazy film on top of the water protect your decency from Beomgyu’s eyes. With the servants insisting on helping you wash, though, you’ve become indifferent to bathing in front of others. It’s not as if you’ve got to worry about him leering, anyway. He doesn’t blink at your nakedness. You appreciate the company. “It smells clean. You know, so you don’t smell like straight mud.” 

“Mud is not such an offensive smell as that,” he says, nose crinkling. “You lather yourself in smells that are wholly unbelievable.” 

Laughing, you feign sending a spray of water droplets his way. “Well,” you muse, “We are not hewn from the same stone. We have to clean ourselves.” While your worldly body demands that you maintain hygiene with soap and water, the folk wash for leisure. You don’t bemoan it, though. It’s your reality—always will be—and you delight in coming out feeling fresh. “And your earthy... musk... is just as terrible to me as this is to you. So...” 

“Agree to disagree.” He sits still. Beomgyu is always eerily still—you’ve come to the realization that it’s because he doesn’t breathe. No rising or falling of his chest meant he could sit in absolute repose. You’re not entirely used to it, even now. How could anything be a living, talking being, without breath? There he sits, though.  

Echoes of your washing fill the room. You sigh. With each scrub, you imagine carving away both any dirtiness and any heavy thoughts. It doesn’t work, of course. You feel no less heavy. If only it were that easy. 

“Taehyun is general now,” you say, frown tugging at your face. “For the Queen.” Remembering it makes you feel impossibly heavier. It had been a secretive move, but still... He had become the one thing that has haunted him for you. His words yesterday said as much. You buzz at that memory, heart racing at just the memory. It had been a battle pretending your first kiss hadn’t happened, but this was different. Terribly different. 

You blink, trying to bring yourself together when Beomgyu says, huffing out a humorless laugh, “He is only his father’s son.” 

Sighing, you sink lower into the water. The kelpie wouldn’t be himself without some snide remark in Taehyun or his father’s expense. You know why he’d done it, now, but you’re awful and can’t help but consider what him being general might mean. Taehyun has a strict moral code; you don’t think he’ll go around killing in cold blood. Still, in order to retain his standing, he’ll have to carry out the council’s will. It’s a slippery slope; you fear the he’ll become the thing he’d once hated at your expense. With a sickened stomach, you hold your knees closer. You don’t want that. “He said it was to make sure we’re no longer targets. You know, since we came here as spies and all that,” you say, voice softening as thoughts grow louder. 

Agitated, Beomgyu slips off the basin. “Why would he have bothered with finding me, then, if he had already made other plans?” 

Spinning water with a finger and watching it swirl, you say, “I know for a fact it’s why he did it. It’s just that I don’t like it. I mean, getting involved in the war is one thing. We were already involved to some degree, anyway. Becoming the general is a whole other thing.” 

A wicked delight crackles across Beomgyu’s face, and you brace yourself for whatever has excited him so. “If you would deign it with your word... We could be gone from this estate. Anywhere that pleases us, free from the fool.” 

“Of course,” you say, rolling your eyes and watching him pace the floor. “It’s always dramatics with you. We’re not running away. Good try, though.” 

He pauses, grimacing down at you. You suppress a laugh. Maybe you could’ve entertained his grand plan. At least, for a moment. Your fingers have pruned up, but you have no will to drag yourself from the warmth. Let you just stay like this, cocooned in its welcoming arms, for a bit longer. Then, you’ll find it within you to face the memory of Taehyun’s hands and the gravity of what he’d let slip. 

❆

Dust motes flutter when caught in the light. You, with bare feet padding on the chilly morning floors, plow right through them. A clattering, so lively in the still sleep-ridden estate, floats out from the kitchens. You follow it. 

Beomgyu stands, lanky and strange as always, watching a servant work dutifully on a meal. You frown. It’s a bit early for any of your usual meals. 

“Hanging around in the kitchen? Thought you didn’t eat,” you say.  

He gives you a distracted grumble. “I can eat. I just don’t need to.” 

An eye roll slips. “That’s even worse. You asked for a meal to be made for you, just so that you can taste it,” you say, hand on your hip. “Very inconsiderate.” 

Disconcertment lines his face at that, looking back over at the servant. “I did not ask for a meal.” 

“Yeah... Okay. Anyway, do you know where Taehyun has gone? Out?” 

Beomgyu shakes his head. “No, I don’t believe he’s gone anywhere,” he says, eyeing you. “You’re searching for the Lord?” 

“I mean, I was just wondering where he is. I didn’t see him around, or anything.” 

“Oh, pull your stake from my heart,” he grumbles and scratches at his neck. “I fear you’ve abandoned me in my loathing, with who else am I to escape this place? ” he says.  

“There you go again,” you say, relenting to conversation. Conversation with Beomgyu makes you feel lighter. “If we ran away, we’d make it like... a week.” 

He cocks his head to the side. “You’d last a week. I’d be just fine.” 

“Oh, you think so?” you scoff. “And where would we go?” 

Now, he’s really riled up, throwing his arms up, exasperated. “To the forest,” he deadpans. “I... come from the forest. Of course I’d go to the forest.” 

Mouth pulled into a grin that you know will irk him, you say, “Sounds like a nice place. For you. You just want to get out of here, you don’t care about what happens to me. I’m hurt. This is supposed to be our escape plan, not Beomgyu’s.” 

He likes that, lips curling at the corners. “Well, I pride myself in my cleverness, and it’s not as though I’ll be leaving this rotten place by my own means,” Beomgyu says.  

“Oh, you’re just so clever.” You’ve become too familiar with that impish grin—he’s joking. But you don’t doubt for a second that if you were to propose running away, Beomgyu would be elated. He makes the jokes for a reason, anyway. It’s become a sort of game; him suggesting it, and you shutting it down. “And is that why you deign to bless me with your presence? Plotting and scheming?” 

“Don’t give me your sarcasm,” he huffs. “I deign you with my presence because I ought to. What else should I do?” 

“You love me,” you say, tableware and platters clattering and mingling with the sound of your voice. “I know it.” You drag out the last syllables in a taunting melody. 

 The servant who had been busy with making the breakfast, a hob you don’t really recognize, pokes in to tell you that it’s finished, so you move your conversation over to the table. Pulling out the chair, you eye the plates. It’s more extravagant than you usually eat here. It reminds you more of Court food or what few meals you’d had with Yeonjun: a honeyed meat and some fire-roasted burdock root. Beside it is a bowlful of salt, but it’s only by yours. You dip your head at the faerie, careful of course not to say thank you. That would mean that the faerie has done you a favor, and then you’d be expected to repay it. A simple gesture works just fine. 

Beomgyu doesn’t sit, nor does he take any interest in eating. Instead, he hovers at the far end of the long table, telling you, “I do not love anything.” 

Raising your brows at him, you say, “Whatever.” You salt the bitter root before forking it. “What are you so antsy for, anyway? Isn’t your whole thing that you sit around in a swamp for the entirety of your existence? What’s that, to staying in an estate for a bit? I think that you just like to complain to me.” 

He laughs, rocking on his heels. “It’s about free will,” he says, “And, maybe I do. Though, isn’t it a wonder that you complain to me just as much?” 

You’ve finished your plate. “Fair.” 

Taehyun emerges from a room. Your belly does a little surprised flip. You knew he was still here, but you’d hoped to avoid him. When you’d first arrived here, the estate had felt massive. Now, it’s not so much the same.  

 He doesn’t mention it, though. Instead, he surveys the table, and then his brows knit. “You’ve cooked?” 

“Not us. It was being made when I got up. There’s some for you, too, though. If you’re hungry.” 

His frown deepens, but he nods and wanders off into the kitchen. You understand. You’d been confused when you’d went into the kitchen to find a meal being made so early. It’s as if the servant is new and unfamiliar with schedules. Turning to Beomgyu, you say, “Anyway. Would sneaking out for one night appease you?” You push around the last bits of your breakfast, too full to eat anymore. “Maybe you just need to get the thrill out of your system. I have a tree by my window, that might up the ante rather than sneaking out the front door.” You give him a tongue-in-cheek raise of a brow. 

“Well, I don’t think it’s sneaking if you discuss it a room away from who you’re sneaking around,” he answers, picking at the wood of the table. “And, no.” 

At a crash, you both are whipping your heads toward the doorway. The hob servant is sprawled out on its knees. Taehyun’s face has gone cold, and he holds his sword out at the faerie in a point. Your eyes go wide, and you hop up out of your seat. “What are you doing?” you say, taking in the scene. Adrenaline sparkles in your pulse. One second, you’d been enjoying your morning, the next Taehyun has one of his servants at sword point. It’s whiplash.  

Despite your initial shock, though, you pull together the pieces—about the strangeness of the routine, and the unusual meal, and the unfamiliar faerie. You go to share a look with Beomgyu. In the narrow twitch of his eyes, you deduct that he’s come to the same conclusion. And, you’d eaten that whole meal.  

“Face me.” Taehyun barks out the command, looking down on the hob with a chilling severity. 

The faerie does slowly, bowing its head to avoid Taehyun’s face in an attempt to placate him. Taehyun says, “Who have you weaseled yourself into my estate for?” His voice carries, strong and unforgiving. It penetrates down to your marrow. You’re sure the hob feels it worse, though. There’s a long few moments with no answer. Either they won’t say it, or they can’t. They dip their head further. “If you think that your silence will earn you a quick death, it will not. Speak now, or give me your hand. I’ll have your fingers.” 

“Taehyun,” you say, shooting him a hard stare. “Are you serious?” Your stomach goes nauseous. You’ve seen Taehyun kill before, but a punishment like that, meant to inflict agony... It shocks you. 

Taehyun looks at you strangely, eyes at war with the rest of him. He says to you, keeping his sword on the hob, “Am I serious? You just ate all of that, who knows if it was poisoned.” Now stood behind the hob, he takes it by the scruff and lines the deadly edge of his sword up to its neck. 

Your heart does a little trick. You absolutely had eaten that food without question. Why would you question it? It hadn’t come to your mind at all that somebody might infiltrate this estate. With Taehyun’s new role, it only makes sense. You don’t feel bad, though. Not like when you had been poisoned at The Hovel. You’d felt that pretty fast and hard. Right now, you feel fine. As much relief as that brings you, it does beg the question: if they’d come here to do harm, why wouldn’t they utilize such a blaring opportunity? The hob had just... made you food. 

“I have every right to protect my home, and those who live in it.” Taehyun grabs harder, picking the hob up and pressing his sword in closer. The hob squeezes its narrow eyes shut. “It’s my duty.” 

It’s always duty, with Taehyun. The sight of the faerie bracing, knowing that Taehyun will hurt or kill it, worms under your skin. Your fingers strain in trembling fist. You can’t handle the awful sight, no matter if the faerie had intended to harm you. 

You think you know who’d sent the hob to come and be eyes on the inside of Taehyun’s estate, anyway. 

Beomgyu scoffs hoarsely from beside you. “I watched the fool make it. She’s not fallen sick, had she?” His bored eyes shine with distaste. "You, general, just miss the taste of blood on your tongue. You miss it dearly, I know. It’s a terrible hunger to have.” He exchanges the word Lord with one that you can acknowledge hits as a much lower blow, considering his past. Beomgyu would never miss the opportunity to remind Taehyun that from which he comes from. To that regard, you are thankful for not knowing who your parents are. No matter where you end up, at least you’ve had the power to mold your own legacy. Taehyun’s follows him, grim and stained red.  

“Taehyun, can’t you just make an exception this once? Beomgyu’s right. If they’d have wanted us hurt, they had a pretty good opportunity to. But, they didn’t.” You flex your fingers hoping to expel some nerves and step closer to where he’s stood. Making a point to catch his eyes and hold them hostage, you add, “We’d be hypocrites to kill for spying. You know that. Who are we, to call it justice and kill over this? That’s not fair.” 

He holds your eyes, pausing. “Exceptions are dangerous,” he says, but his voice is changed. There’s something other than ice-cold resolution there. You release a breath of tension.  

“I get that, but...” You search his face. “Please.” 

The estate is quiet aside from the huffing of the hob for a second. The look in Taehyun’s face changes, and then he’s throwing the faerie to the ground. He sheathes his sword with a crisp click that you’ve never been more elated to hear, and he snaps, “Get out. Go. Tell whoever the hell sent you here that I won’t take so kindly to this again.” 

The hob does not waste even a second in making good on their second chance. It scrambles up and away in a scramble of furious legs and arms. 

Beomgyu shakes his head and goes to retreat off to wherever he spends a majority of his time, now that the show is over.  

Taehyun, looking disconcerted with his arms folded and brows lifted, says, “Somebody is sending their people here, and now I’ve set a precedent. I look weak. Those wolves will pounce on any stretch of weakness they can find.” 

You sigh. “I know,” you say. “I know, Taehyun. Thank you.” You don’t tell him that the wolf he speaks of is Yeonjun, and that the spy was not here to kill or collect intellect from him.  

It seems that the prince has made his move. 

❆

“You think that was the end of it?” Beomgyu says. “No. That was nothing beyond a glimpse. A life spent beside his blood-drinking father is undeniable. How the gentry kids learn Court snark, the Lord learned to take butchery as a trophy.” 

Shooting him a glare, you slot the arrow in its home and pull the bowstring taut. It comes much easier, now. Your chest doesn’t tremble, and you can properly hold it there comfortably enough to actually aim. Finding the bullseye of woven straw, you narrow your eyes down. You find the center of the spiral, further down the field now that you’ve gotten a better handle on your archery. Like Taehyun had said, you aim a little left to make room for wind direction. You release a slow breath in a smooth, silver stream of breath. Wind whistles around the arrow as it dances down the flat of powdery snow. It pierces the center left with a far-off thud. Not a bullseye, but you’re glad to meet your mark.  

You reach for another arrow. “Or,” you say, “Growing up with his father taught him to be a better man for it.” 

The kelpie, having watched you practice out here for at least thirty minutes, looks up to you from where he sits squatted on the ground. “You don’t believe that,” he scoffs. He drags a finger in the snow. The ground around him is a work of muddy shapes, where he’s worked the snow so much that the wet ground beneath it has begun turning it to brown slush. “The brute is no different. Ardently as he may detest the former general, he has followed his tracks in the snow. Reluctance makes him no better.” 

Cupping your hands over your mouth, you puff out warm breaths that soothe your stinging nose and stiff fingers. It lasts only a small, gratifying moment. You puff out a sigh and take the bow back into your hands. You thought you’d gotten over this conversation, decided to determine for yourself what kind of man Taehyun is, but... When he took up his role as general, you were set back an infuriating mile. Things are even muddier, now. You know he has a reputation to keep up as general, and that he made an exception for you in letting that spy go. If he doesn’t present a strong front, it’ll put you all in danger. That doesn’t stop abrasive thoughts from sticking under your skin, though.  

“Don’t even try and act like you care about violence,” you tell him, giving him a high brow. “It’s not as if you don’t trick people and drag them down into your swamp for your own enjoyment. You just dislike Taehyun.” You bring back the string and let another arrow go. It lands somewhere near the first.  

He doesn’t deny that, a rotten smile splitting across his face.  

Your next shot lands beside the bullseye. Letting out a triumphant sound, you say, “Did you see that?” 

Beomgyu hums. “That one was good.” He stands up to full height with creaking bones and adds, “But, aren’t you getting bored of this? I say we find something more interesting to waste precious time with.” 

You frown. “More interesting...” 

He nods, enthused.  

“That sounds like a terrible idea, coming from you. Interesting is subjective, and I don’t think I’d like to learn your interpretation of it,” you say, voice sewn with suspicion. You lean your bow against the tree, though. Hitting so close to the center was enough gratification to appease you for the day. “And how can I be sure that this isn’t part of an escape plan?” 

He groans. “Let me play some, won’t you? I have a place that will please the both of us.” 

You feign long consideration, but you’ve already decided. As cold as you are, and despite your weary arms, you’re jumping at the opportunity to escape the strong walls of the estate. You’ve got a funny tingling in your veins that pleads with you to go and do something. Wherever Beomgyu may take you, you’ll just appreciate the distraction from muddled thoughts and recycling anxieties. You nod finally. “Fine. Don’t bring me anywhere weird, kelpie.” 

Though, you never know what you’re getting into, with Beomgyu. 

❆

Well, the dusted walls of a once-great residence around you are not the worst you imagined when thinking where Beomgyu might take you. 

“You told I’d me be pleased,” you say, voice bouncing off the walls and coming back to you hollow. It was the residence of some gone gentry folk, you know. Why that would be of any interest to you, you’re not sure. It’s pretty, sure. You’d fought snow and numb fingers to get here, though. You frown at him expectantly. 

“You have a sorry amount of trust in me. You would be, if you’d just open your eyes to it,” he cuts back.  

You hum. “Sure.” Raking your eyes over the baseboards, brown wood carved into leaves and acorns, and then down the still halls, you make an effort to see anything differently. Of course, it does nothing. Beomgyu speaks strangely, and he hadn’t actually meant to look differently. Despite your conclusion, you still see a stale and forgotten place. You cross your arms over your chest and say, “I get it. This was just an escape plan. And I’m gonna get your ass. Do you know how far of a that walk was?” 

“This would be a nice to stay, if we were to forget a certain Lord’s estate...” he muses, tilting his head off to one side. “But no.” 

Looking around, your eyes catch on the film of dust on the floor down the hallway that shoots off from the tall dining hall that you stand in. More specifically, you’re concerned with the set of footsteps leading down it. Your feet tell you to dart. “Beomgyu?” you say, eyes wide as you look over to him. “Who’s here?” 

“Should we go find out?” he says, thick set of brows jumping in a playful twitch. 

He sets off down the hallway. You follow, internalizing the new surroundings with large drinks. You’re not sure why you ever thought this would end with him taking you out to the forest to watch will-o'-the-wisps dance in twinkling balls of light, or going to watch a babbling brook work its way over the earth. 

A tall man steps out from a room. You jump, pulling Beomgyu back, as if he weren’t some ancient faerie beast capable of managing himself. He cracks a laugh. The man looks between you two. Your tongue darts out to wet dry lips. He’s no doubt wondering who you are, just the same as you’re wondering who he is. You whisper to your cavorting heart that Beomgyu is magically compelled to not shove you into harm’s way, and it seems that he knows who this is. 

You notice the man’s round ears, and his soft and humble features, and the earthliness, and the imperfection-flecked skin. Familiarity bursts in your chest—you’re looking into the face of another human. “Who is this?” you whisper over to Beomgyu. 

“This is Soobin,” he announces, answering your whisperings with his full chest. “A friend, and a human, as I think you’ve noticed.” A proud gleam flashes over his eyes. “I believe that you owe me your thanks now.” 

The man, Soobin, dips his head at you. Dull, brown eyes study you. “I am,” he says. 

Searching for words, you open and close your mouth a few times. A nervous thrill wraps you up. You’ve wanted to get to know and be friends with your kind for your entire life. “Why are you here?” you ask, making a gesture at the residence. “It looks abandoned. Very abandoned.” When you’d first arrived at Taehyun’s estate, it’d been left alone for quite a while in Taehyun’s leaving it behind. This, though, looks much different than that. You wonder who this place belonged to, and why it’s no longer in use. 

Sullen eyes answer yours. They remind you of Beomgyu’s, the old tiredness. It’s strange, seeing that look reflected on such a young face. How does Beomgyu known him, anyway? Soobin answers, “I was a glamoured servant here. Until the faerie died.” He continues talking as he returns to the room from which he’d come from. This room, off and away from the massive inner hall that makes up the majority of the residence, is fresher. Where dust balls and had taken over what was once most definitely a place busy with servants and the host of many feasts, this room is alive and no doubt where Soobin lives. “Then, the glamour died, and I came back to myself.” He sits down onto a foot bench in front of a green-sheeted bed. This must’ve been bedroom for the faerie he’d served. Now, it’s his. He brings his hands up. Where the soft skin of an easy life should sit, there’s worn and ruined skin in its place. “I wasn’t conscious when I’d been working it, but when I came back... my body ached. It ached so bad, and at first, I had no idea why or... where I was. All I knew was that I’d been worked into the ground.” 

Your heart hangs like stone in your chest, looking at his broken hands. When you’d been taken from the human world, you’d been so young that it made no difference to you. Growing up here, it’s all you’ve ever known. Not every human is brought here how you had been, though. Some are snatched up from their adult lives; fallen to some faerie trick hidden in plain sight. Slip up, and you’re stolen away to come do work in this wretched realm. You don’t know what’s worse: what happened to you, being raised here and molded into a meaningless servant, or that. The faerie had stolen time from his life that he will never get back—and he remembers none of it. Glamoured servants had always stricken a gut-wrenching sick feeling in you, whenever you’d seen them. With gone eyes and hollowed out cheeks, they’d look right through you like mist and continue on with their prescribed duties. Like a husk of a living being. 

Even now, Soobin’s body tells the story of the taxation. This faerie must’ve seen humans as cattle. “Why stay here?” you ask, making a seat out of a sofa along the wall. The cushions accept your shape graciously; made affable by time and use. Beomgyu trades the cushioned seat for the floor in front of your crisscrossed legs. He lolls his head back, coarse hair tickling at your skin. 

Beomgyu answers. “Because he has no place else to go, and his awful stubbornness keeps him here. There are no rides back to the human world, if you’re not willing to give something away for it.” 

Soobin, looking more annoyed than genuinely angry with Beomgyu’s words, says, “I’m not going to give your kind any more of me than I was already forced to. I’ll find a way. Eventually.” 

Eventually. The word is heavy coming out from his mouth, falling out like a dud; not even he believes it. “How long have you been here?” 

“I... don’t know.” He shifts, watching the flooring rather than looking at the two of you as he speaks. “Since I was taken here? I have no idea. I don’t remember a lick of it. But from what I do remember, long. Centuries, maybe.” 

Your fingers, raking paths through the tangles in Beomgyu’s hair, freeze. Looking up at him, you tilt your head. It sounds like it should be a hyperbole, an overdramatization to describe what feels like an eternity spent here in this old place. But he doesn’t deliver it as such. No, his voice doesn’t joke at all—his eyes stare hard and lack the light of life. “What?” you say. Your voice crackles with a confused flare. “What do you mean, centuries?” 

“He means that he’s been making this his home for centuries,” Beomgyu says. 

“No,” you say, willing your glare to burn holes through the back of his head below you. Of course, he doesn’t stir or notice at all. “I mean, that’s not possible. We don’t live that long.” Nonetheless, he looks no older than you. Anything above twenty years is no less unbelievable than centuries.  

“You don’t?” Beomgyu says. You hear the patronizing smile through his words. “I have known him long. And yet, he lives... How strange is that?” 

You deliver a punishing shove at the back of his head. “You know what I meant, idiot.” 

Simpering, he says back to you from over his shoulder, “You’re not so much the sweet girl I remember meeting. Spend enough of your time here, and even the human’s body slows. The makeup of his human flesh has not aged for quite some time. Neither will yours.” 

A lifetime spent dreading how fast your life will dwindle away comes crashing down over you. You blink hard at the impact. You’d been haunted; followed around by the dark and heavy promise of a soon death, of deteriorating joints and a forgettable name. That had all been in vain? The enormity of that realization... it comes overhead like dark and swirling water, sucking you down where no amount of kicking or thrashing will clear a way. It swallows you. A bitter anger kindles down in the depths from which that fear had nestled itself. So, Nut-hatch had made the very conscious decision to lead you to believe otherwise. 

“You’ve reached maturity, and you will stay this way for until you leave Faerie. The years will begin coming to you, as long as you remain there; where time flows differently through the veins,” Beomgyu continues. “He only wishes to spend his blessing of time decaying away here.” 

The two of them begin talking back and forth about whatever it is that Beomgyu says, but a loud silence like fog in your head has their words more like background noise. You’d lived for so, so long thinking that you were running out of time. The tick of a terrible clock sounded off in the distance in a haunting echo in everything you ever did. It’s why you ever rallied the nerve to up and leave the life you’d been dragged into. You’d been so scared of wasting what little life you had—fear welled up high and told you that time was running out to do it. Would you have ever even left, if you’d not thought yourself so rushed? Your face feels hot. 

Soobin saying your name, loud and questioning, draws you out just enough to hear him say, “How did you get tricked?” 

You swallow and clear your throat, sitting up straighter. “What do you mean?” you ask, mental inertia coloring your words lost. “Tricked?” Doing a re-survey of the room, you stop on the windows. Day has begun weaning off into the gray of eventide.  

“How did you end up as a servant, I mean,” he elaborates. 

“Oh,” you say, nodding your understanding. “Sorry, I got distracted. I was taken when I was little, so I didn’t get tricked, or anything.” Nut-hatch didn’t have to trick you to bring you here like most faeries do when taking humans from their world, because you had no will. It’s the loophole in their governing nature; though they might not be able to just take humans without a promise or debt or something of that sort, they can take away the newly born. As long as they leave behind what they believe to be a replacement as payment. 

“You’re a changeling,” he says, as if realizing out loud. His eyes meet yours, dead and gone and bitter. “You should’ve killed that faerie. They all deserve it.” 

The acidic rancor there has you balking. Kill Nut-hatch? You may still harbor resentment—deep, deep gnarly gashes and crevices that you’d had to fill, and it just so happens that enmity did the job well. You understand his anger, but the thought of killing your stealer for self-gratifying revenge doesn’t make you feel good. Not in the way he suggests it should. In a sick way that only a child with a cavity in their chest where the love for a parent should be could manage, you consumed her role as your owner and digested it down into something you could cling on to. And, with chubby little desperate hands, you had. Perhaps she would spit in your face if you were to return to her now—because you’d failed to fulfill your purpose for her—you could not fathom hurting her. You pull back the sour face twitching at your muscles and say, “How do you feel about that, Beomgyu? I thought you were friends.” 

He shakes his head. “If you make senseless bets, you’re already the fool. You can’t act so surprised when you’re then asked to put on the fool’s hat and to dance,” he says, pointed derision like an arrow at Soobin.  

Whatever that means. The folk speak with adages and idioms, but Beomgyu’s verbiage is infested with it.  You scuffle down your laugh when Soobin does not share your humor. 

“How was I supposed to have thought I’d be making a bet with a faerie? Nobody even knows this shit is real, there. It’s all just folklore and scary stories. It’s not fair ground if I didn’t even know that I was doing it. And now, here I am: everybody I ever knew and loved is long, long dead.” 

His words are seething with hatred, and yet they’re barren. It’s carved him up inside, dug him out into a shell with only this awfulness left. It shakes you a bit. You’d been so eager to find another human to know or to bond with. This, though... Your brain feels rattled around in your skull. You hope to never become this.  

“So, no. We are not friends,” Soobin says. “He only comes here to enjoy my misfortune, and our kind live with the need for interaction. I tolerate it, I guess.” 

You husk out a laugh that doesn’t find your eyes. “Well, that’s not very nice, Beomgyu,” you say, stressing his name with false reprimand. “He enjoys my suffering too,” you tell Soobin. You nudge Beomgyu with your dangling leg, trying to drag the nonplussed kelpie back into the conversation to save you. 

“Of course, he does. It’s why they take us from our world: our pain is no more than like playing with a beetle to watch it struggle, and then killing it when it’s no longer fun. We’re bugs. Or, dirt. I’m sure you’ve heard that before. They love to tell us that.” 

You have. That memory is one that you prefer shoved down and compact where you can’t let it remind you what your designated role really is. You’ve been so good about ignoring it, too. With a quick glance to the windows and the dark that’s fallen outside, you say, “I think we need to go, Beomgyu. We didn’t bring any lights...” 

The kelpie drags himself up from the ground and away from the room without any sharing of pleasantries. You offer Soobin a quick goodbye and are next out of the room, feet moving like the wood flooring has gone to hot coals. 

Even in the round edges of a human face, you had not found the resonance that you’ve longed so hard for. Humans have the capacity for unshaking violence and vacant souls too, it seems. Perhaps it was never that you were looking for a human to see yourself reflected in—you’d just bloomed cloudy hopes of finding eyes that will see you clearly and deeply. Those hopes had been misplaced. 

 But, if not in another human, then who? 

❆

It’s utterly black outside—a moonless night. Kicking your restless legs out from your blankets, you stumble down the stairs. 

You can’t find sleep, even behind closed eyes. Behind your eyelids, you see Yeonjun’s storm-clouded face and you taste Taehyun on your mouth. You’re harassed by guilt cruelly, and feel the weight of your conversation with Soobin deep in your chest.  

How you end up at Taehyun’s door once again, you’re not sure. It’s a wholly inappropriate hour of the night, and you ought to have learned your lesson the last time you’d found yourself here. You don’t know why your sleepy legs lead you here. You’re better off plaguing Beomgyu with your restlessness instead. Why you’re stood here before this door... It’s beyond you. 

Though, you’ve been desperately unable to shove down the urge to stick your toes in the water and see just how icy they are. He’s pointedly avoided you, and you have no grasp on where you two are going after this. An innate feeling, settled heavy like stone in your chest, tells you that everything has changed. 

Once you’ve knocked and cracked the door open, though, a nervous tide creeps up on you. You should pivot and be back to your room. You would, if you were smart, but as Taehyun sits up with a mess of dark hair and sleep-dusted cheeks, you’re compelled by something other than your mind. It’s something strangely human, waking up in a groggy haze. The sight of sleepiness on the ever-composed Taehyun is jarring. It’s gone in only a blink, though, as he shakes it away. 

“Is something wrong?” he says. He may have brushed away the fog in his brain, but he’s powerless to the husk still weighing his voice down. It sends a strange thrill through you.  

You shake your head, throat dry. 

He frowns. “You’re having dreams again?” 

The gentle question has you pausing. It’s so out and away—so far beyond what you expect from him. Taehyun has never been one to ask around about how you’re feeling. He’d much rather skirt around such things, and pretend them away. Emotional nuance is a lost cause on him. Or, that’s what you’d thought, anyway. What’s changed? “No,” you tell him, pursing your lips. “I just... wanted to talk to you.” 

Taehyun sits more fully upright. “About what?” he says. You don’t miss how his shoulders straighten and stiffen. 

On bare feet, you shuffle over to his bed. “Nothing,” you tell him. You hadn’t exactly planned on coming here. Of course, he thinks you’ve come here to address what had happened. But... that’s not why you came here. At least, you think it isn’t. You don’t know. “Can I sit?” You gesture at the foot of his bed. He nods, eyes trained right on you. Pressing one knee into the coverlets, you climb in. 

The buzzing and hum of wind dance in the air between you. You’re not sure what to say; it’s so heavy with every single thing. It’s hard to keep things light with him, when even the silence is painted with intensity.  

You settle with just saying, “I couldn’t sleep.” 

He licks his lips, nodding. “I’d only just fallen asleep,” he says. “Always something to think about.” 

You can relate to that. The melody of a serene, content mind seems like a distant memory. “Sorry,” you say. You hadn’t meant to ruin his rest. Rigidity intrudes on the flow of conversation. You don’t remember ever being this awkward. 

He dismisses that with a shake of his head. “I’ll manage,” he says. “When I came back yesterday, you and the kelpie weren’t here. Where did you go?” 

This is exactly what had been keeping your mind awake. You had wanted to think of anything but that, but maybe talking to somebody about it will be nice. “Beomgyu took me somewhere,” you say. You laugh softly as he makes a face. “Yeah, I know. It was some old, run-down place. And there was this human there.” 

You pause, filtering through the memory. Taehyun doesn’t speak, his eyes watching you with an attentive slowness. He’s just listening. Continuing, you say, “It was weird, because... Well, we were talking, and... He was nice. It was nice, talking to another human and seeing my features on him.” 

You give a passing glance over at his ears. 

“And Beomgyu is a jerk, but I don’t think I learned that yesterday,” you say. You ramble, perhaps filling the space where the uncomfortable memory sits before you can let it bother you. It doesn’t help that the air is so quiet. Your mouth moves quick to make it less so. “But... this guy. He’s centuries old, and just lives inside that place. I’d been so excited to have someone who could understand me like that, but then he started saying stuff that made me feel... just, bad for him, I guess. He was so angry and bitter.” 

Taehyun watches you speak, and then nods. Tinged with his sleepy husk, he says, “Not everybody stays good when they live for so long. He let it rot him.” 

“Yeah. It was really like he was rotted. Not bad, I guess,” you say. “It made me worry that I’ll end up that way, someday. Even though we came here differently, I still feel that sort of anger sometimes. I don’t like it, though.” 

“I don’t think you will,” he says. 

His voice feels so strangely soft. You don’t know how to respond to this, coming from him. Long, quiet beats only decorated by the crackling of bushes scraping up and down the windows, fall over you two again. Your gazes intertwine, dancing together in a way that is also different. “Thank you,” you tell him, your voice meek. “I hope that’s true.” 

The longer you’re sat there in Taehyun’s bed, the plush warmth of it and his presence serving as some sort of scarecrow for your pestering thoughts, your eyes grow heavier and your words more useless. Here, in his room and in his presence, it’s as if those thoughts and their terrible claws cannot reach you. You prattle on to him about sleepy nothings, but he doesn’t seem to mind that you’re stealing his sleep from him. He only listens, eyes watching you melt down into something softer on the surface of his bed. 

❆

When you’d woken up this morning, you’d popped up in a frantic flurry. Instead of on your own bed, your dreary eyes were met with the walls of Taehyun’s room. You had fallen asleep in Taehyun’s bed; talked yourself into a solid sleep. You had been so thankful that he was not there when you’d been drug from your slumber by the feel of foreign bedsheets on your skin. 

Even thinking about it now, your ears glow red. Had he been annoyed? You frantically shove those thoughts away. 

There’s a thump from outside. You lean over from your spot on the bed and try to get the best look out you can manage, but it’s at an angle. You see nothing but winter’s flurries there.  

Your head drops back down to the threadbare fabric in hand. Beomgyu, after a long-winded back and forth, had relented to letting you patch up his clothes. Well, just his shirt. When he’d handed it over to you, it had been a valiant internal battle to not run off and drown the thing in soaped water. For now, you settle for just patching up the mangiest bits. It gives you something to be busy with. 

Taehyun has been especially busy lately. You’re not sure why; he doesn’t exactly go around singing about his stresses.  

This time, there’s three resounding and deliberate knocks at the pane of your window. Your working fingers come to a stop, head popping up. A nervous rattle thrums up and down your spine. It could have been a straying tree branch knocking a song with the wind’s encouragement, but they’d been so sure and pronounced. You let the shirt down and slip off the bed. Keeping your approach down to whisper, you creep toward the window. 

Yeonjun, nose gone pink, sits on a sturdy branch. 

For a moment, you stand there taking in the sight of him there; a prince of Faerie, crouched up and in a tangle of branches as he waits for you. It’s absurd. Not only that, it’s dreadful. You’ve done well, tearing yourself away from him. So, so well. Recently, all that hurt has painted its face and made itself anger. At the sight of his face, it sparks in your chest. But it’s a dull, slow flame, oh so reluctant. This anger feels different than other angers. It bothers you so deeply that you can’t place a finger on why. 

And you want to let that anger sit there and fester, hoping that it will work at eroding away your still-connected heartstrings like rot. Even through the glass of the window, you feel them—red and reinforced and tugging you toward him. 

It’s ridiculous. This is ridiculous and pathetic, letting him send you fragmented just with this. You’ve become the sort of girl that you’d snort over in sappy lover’s ballads and odes, the kind that you’d looked down on for their lack of spine. How different it is, when it comes to your turn. Despite it all, you reach out and push the windows open. Even with the sputtering flame you foster, he’s frozen and does not look like he’s going to give up just at this. If you were to pretend he wasn’t there and flop back down into the bed, you think that he might sit there brazen and let the ice freeze him from the inside out. Or, he’ll find some other way to speak with you. The glint in his eyes, the only light reflected in flatness, tells you as much. 

“This isn’t cute, or... romantic, like you think it is, Yeonjun. Not like last time. It’s just hurtful,” you tell him. 

Breath like smoke, Yeonjun says, “I don’t mean to hurt you. It kills me that I do.” His voice is sweet and smooth like malt liquor. It grips your mind in dazzling claws. 

You shake your head, staying a reasonable distance from him and the window. “You’re not supposed to be here. You have to go,” you tell him, pulling the leash to the collar you’ve put on yourself taut. “It’s icy. Climb down safe, please.” 

Of course, that doesn’t budge him. “Not supposed to be here? Why, because you don’t want it, or because he’ll be angry at you?” he says. His pretty face has gone sour. “Look at you. You’ve lost so much weight. He’s not taking care of you, pretty. Come home to me. I know you know where it is; I see the look on your face. I know that you lie to me with your words, but you were never good at hiding your face.” 

You stay rooted to your spot; you won’t be so weak to words again. No matter how sweet and soft they feel against your shining, weeping wounds. He put that hurt there. Leaning into it would just be self-destructive. 

“Please. It hurts both of us to be away, so why do it? I know that I’ve hurt you, and I’ll spend every last of my waking breath letting you know that it was a mistake. I’ll leave it all behind—none of it matters,” he continues. “Make me your servant. Ask me to swear my life away to you, and I’ll drop to my knees and put it on my beating heart right now.”  

Your throat feels dry. He’d swear himself in your service, give you the ability to control him as you will. It’s an unfathomably massive show of trust and dedication. You don’t want that, though. Not one bit. His frantic professions punch you in the gut nonetheless. Had you been losing weight? You haven’t even noticed. Yeonjun did, though—at a glance, he’d known you’ve been hurting.  

“Yeonjun, please. You’re not making this easy for me. Just give it time; we’ll get over it. Eventually, we’ll forget each other,” you say, jaw aching with protest at each heavy word. Now faced with the reality of a much, much longer life, your own words bite you. It means, though, that you have so much time to build yourself up into something solid and beautiful. And, somewhere down the road, you’ll think of this and be unaffected. Won’t that day come any sooner, though? 

“Forget each other?” he says, laugh like poison. “No, we won’t forget each other. Time doesn’t fix it. I promise you that I know that all too well. Our love is not the kind you can forget. It will just hurt forever.” 

“Go on,” you say. “Lie to me again. I want to hear it.” 

Eyes shining and unable to lie, he says, “I love you.” 

Swallowing thickly, you back away and get ready to close the window.  

He climbs in through the window in a quick move. You don’t even have time to protest it before he’s saying, “Ask anything of me. Any last thing that you want of me, but do not ask me to watch you in his arms. I will not.” 

There it is again—that dread. You want it to go easy, but of course it never was going to. “Stop it,” you say, mustering up a shaking finger to point at him. “Stop. Just go.” 

His face goes hard. “That bastard is off to a war camp. Soon. He becomes more like his father every day, doesn’t he?” His soft hands, warm and cradling, find your face. “You don’t have to punish me by being with him. Come be safe. All he’s done is throw you out in the path of danger. If he cared for you, it would have never happened.” 

Darting between his eyes, breaths come quick to you. “What?” you say. It’s the one word you can pull out from the chaos that he’s wrought onto your thoughts. A blizzard erupts, and through the whipping breeze and shards you don’t think to pull away from him or take his hands off of you. 

So, that’s why Taehyun had been busy. What does that even entail for you? Are you going to be here? Does he expect you to pack up and go there with him, to travel for a war that you don’t even care for? 

“All I ever did was protect you, pretty. I know that, in hindsight, it all seems shady. But I promise you that I did. They were never going to hurt you, and neither was I,” he says, his voice thick and strong with conviction. 

Metal rings, the sound of a quick blade being unsheathed.  

“Leave,” Taehyun snarls. He holds his sword at point, right on Yeonjun. It’s an emphatic promise of what he’s capable of and what he’ll do. 

Flame, wild and melting you around the edges, eats up every last bit of oxygen in the room. It leaves none for you to breathe. It crackles and pops between them, where their gazes meet and feed it. Everything else has gone still. Even the wind, it seems.  

Sword held fast and unmoving, Taehyun says, “You send your people into my home, and now you sneak in yourself. I won’t be walked over. Leave now, or you waste my courtesy.” 

So, he’d come to that conclusion as well. He’s so still—his face carved of ice into sharp edges.  

When Yeonjun sends a look your way, you shake your head at him. You have no clue what he’s thinking, but you want none of it. Your stomach does a violent flip. “Yeonjun, go. I want you to go. Please.” 

His features lined with flame; he looks from you to Taehyun. “Your violence will be the fall of you,” he says, jaw tight as he pushes out toward your door. Not without a final glance sent to you, though. The promise you see there is a dreadful one. 

You refuse to meet Taehyun’s daggered look. Beomgyu’s shirt lays forgotten on your bed. You’re half tempted to grab it and resume work; to continue on and escape this. 

“That didn’t take very fucking long, did it?” he says. “Right back into his arms.” 

Your drag your hands down your face. “I didn’t tell him to come here,” you snap. “It’s none of your business who I talk to. How about we talk about you leaving? When did you plan on telling me, huh? I don’t like secrets, Taehyun.” 

Taehyun slips his sword back into the sheath. It clicks back in place. “None of my business?” he says. He repeats the words back at you with an asp’s curl. “When he’s in my home, in your room, it’s my business.” 

“Would you stop?” you say, exhaustion sputtering out your fight. “With Yeonjun, I always know what’s going on. With you? I don’t know what to expect,” you say. “Tell me. When were you going to tell me that you’re going?” 

His face morphs into something different: one of those bone-chilling ones that you don’t know how to explain. He doesn’t answer for a few beats; you can see his mind turning itself over. “This was going to happen. I told you that,” he says. “And I was going to tell you.” 

You let out a long sigh, your shoulders loosening with it, when this time his voice isn’t so venomous. He’d been so busy lately. Being general assured that, especially now that things are moving. “When? How long will you be gone?” you say. “What if something happens to you, Taehyun? What are Beomgyu and I supposed to do?” You include Beomgyu in your proposition, but you’re not sure whether he’d stay with you or run off into the tree line the moment he finds he’s free. Then, really, who would you have? 

“You’ll be there,” he says. “You can come. I prefer it. If you stay here, you’re vulnerable to attacks. This estate is known to be mine, and now that I’ve become the general... I can’t say that it’s safe.” He’s come so close that now his eyes look down on you. They don’t feel acidic on your skin. “And nothing will happen to me. I promise it, nothing will happen to me or you. Or that kelpie. I’ll win this war.” 

Around a thick swallow, you nod.  

You don’t doubt that Taehyun has the skill or the wits to do so. You only can hope that he doesn’t destroy himself trying to prove it; to both you and himself. 

…🪶 ashlynn's note i know, i know. we made big moves this chapter. AHHHH! taehyun…… taehyun…..

﹙🏷️ ﹚ @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[beomiracles]

omggg can I pllsss request for some pretty sub prince soobin he’d be soo cute ☺️

「 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 」

DREAM RECALL He carefully reaches for your wrist, letting his fingers clasp around it as he guides the palm of your hand to his groin, pressing it against his undoubtedly hard cock with a shaky sigh. Bold. “Does his majesty not think of it improper? Such a vulgar place, not even in his bedchambers?” But the prince only shakes his head, his breath shallow as his eyes beg for you to give in, to give him what he wants.

wc. 3.5k

pairings prince!soobin x maid!reader (fem) warnings handjobs, tiny bit of cum eating, unprotected sex + creampie, sub!soobin, dom!reader, inexperienced!soobin, loss of virginity, class difference, tiny bit of nipple play, vaginal fingering, degradation, semi-public.

#serene adds ✎ every time I say I'm done writing royal au's im lying. this ask is genuienly from like the beginning of July, I am so sorry for taking two decades to get around to it love >.<

not very proofread

“Hush now, wouldn’t want the other maids to hear us would we?” You drawl, watching as Soobin’s gaze flickered toward the door of his grand bedchamber. The prince swallows thickly, his prominent adam’s apple bobbing against his sweaty and flushed throat as he shakily exhales. — The smug smirk that creeps onto your face is barely concealed by the dim light of the wax candle, slowly dripping on his bedside table. “I am merely tending to changing the Prince’s bed sheets.” 

“Am I not?” 

He hastily nods, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he tries to muffle the whiny sounds threatening to slip off his tongue as your fingers wrap around his hard cock. — His thigh twitches in response to the squeeze your hand gives him and Soobin throws his head back, exposing his flushed neck. It was tempting to litter it in kisses, bites, ones that would surely linger the following morning. But that was of course, impossible, for the Prince couldn't possibly be seen in such a state, not when the other maids came to dress him. The thought of their flimsy hands on his body made you cringe as you tried to pry the image from your head, instead focusing on the man before you. 

The Prince. 

The silk robe has slipped down his body, exposing his pointy shoulder, his collarbone, the skin of his chest and his pretty pink nipple; your free hand reaches for it. Twisting and pinching the hardened bud between your fingers you draw a strained groan from him as his hips jerk forward, cock nearly slipping from your loose grasp and you tsk. 

“So impatient”, you mutter, thumb sliding along a prominent vein. Soobin swallows a small cry as he nods, lips now parted as he lays panting. “I have waited for you all day- no, all week”, he protests between hissed moans. — Biting the inside of your cheek, you regard him with fabricated sympathy. “All week you say?” The inquiry is followed by another squeeze to his throbbing cock and Soobin whimpers. “But it has been but a fortnight since our last encounter, no?” — “Tell me, do you serenade all your maidens like this?” 

He gasps, whether it was from the way you leaned down to give his tip a gentle lick or the blunt accusation, you didn’t know. — “N-No never!” He huffs, fingers curling around the soft duvet beneath him, doing his utmost to keep his hands to himself. “Only you…There’s only you.” He says the words so shyly, carefully peering up at you through batted eyelashes. 

You hum, tongue flat against his wet cock, soaked in his built arousal. Your hands are on his thighs, he’s tall and lean, delicate, as if he’d never worked a day in his life. And he’s eager, inexperienced and longing. It made you feel powerful, having the soon to be reigning king, groveling at your feet as he pleads for a release only you could grant him. — “Please.” The soft caress of his voice carries out into the air, his eyes are wide and glossy as he blinks up at you, doe-like. — You know what he wants. 

Soobin is beautiful when he climaxes, lashes fluttering as his vision grows hazy, pink lips parted in such an endearing manner as he makes a noise of ecstasy. His face becomes all red, and mixed with the sweat lingering there, he looks near glazed. — The warm essence of his cum stains your hand, and you let him clean it up, tongue enthusiastically darting out to slide over your fingers as he keeps his gaze on you. 

Despite his high status and important title, he’s utterly pliant before you, someone so lowly viewed by the rest, yet he worships you. Stored away from the dangers of the real world, the prince knows nothing but what you’ve taught him, and you’ve taught him good. — He rarely gets to touch you though, even so, you catch the longing in his eyes as his hands clench by his sides. 

When you slip out of his room, late at night when the castle is asleep, things return to how they were supposed to be, formal and proper. But the prince is far from bright, and he lets himself linger by your side even when not required, his eyes stray a little too long, his attention torn between his duties and his desires. 

The other maids gossip, but the room falls silent whenever you enter. They all speculate about you and the prince, about why he was so adamant on calling for you whenever he needed something, and why no one seemed to know of your whereabouts at night. — But a maid’s rumor can only get her so far, so you pay them little mind. 

Though one night, he takes it too far. 

For it was one thing to have his servant run errands, as they usually did. But when Soobin’s large hand suddenly finds place on a shy maid’s shoulder, your eyes narrow. — She’s your junior, and blushes furiously under the prince’s gaze, asking over and over if there’s anything she can do for him. All to which he merely shakes his head, thanking her for her services as he promises to call for her soon again. 

He lets himself linger by her fidgety frame, and with the small twitch of his lips does his eyes find yours. The squeeze he gives her shoulder makes her practically jump and your jaw clenches as you watch the prince dismiss her with a far too warm and inviting smile. The maid bows so low her nose might as well kiss his shoes, then she scurries off, though not before throwing a glance or two in the prince’s direction. 

You do not visit his chambers that night. nor do you the night that follows. 

It goes on like that for a few days, the fleeting glances, the subtle touches to his servants, and you avoiding him. His motive was beyond your imagination and with a frown etched onto your face, you move through your duties for the day. — It is not until well past dinner, when the kitchen is nearly empty, that there is a small shift in the air. 

The initial confusion had slowly flared into anger, resentment, jealousy. You had clearly made him aware of the boundaries he wasn’t to cross, the way his arms had to lay so perfectly still by his sides, unable to move, unable to touch and caress. — It seems he’d grown tired of waiting, tired of tiptoeing around. And now he was taking without shame. He was being careless, and soon he would get caught. 

Your feet drag across the stone floor, reaching the small pantry as you push the wooden door open with the help of your hip, arms cradling jars of conserved foods. Taking your time, you organize the cramped space, fitting the new bottles and pots amongst the existing ones. — Behind you, the old door creaks, the rusty hinges make a squeaking sound and upon turning around you’re met with a tall and looming shadow. 

Soobin leans against the doorframe, arms neatly folded across his chest as he studies you with an otherwise absent expression. “It’s a little too late for the prince to be up and roaming the castle walls still, no?” You wonder, though turning to give a small bow, nearly dropping the jars in your hands. — Soobin is there to catch them, easily fitting two in his large palm as he reaches for the shelf behind you, caging you against it. 

“Your majesty I am perfectly capable-” — “That’s not my name.” He interrupts your dismissal of his help, warm eyes flitting down to yours as his now empty hands come to rest by his sides. He seems torn, fingers curling up into fists as he holds back from reaching out, not because he shouldn’t, for he seemed to have little care for the way he’d touched his maids the previous days, but because you’d forbade him to do so. 

“I..” He bites the inside of his cheek, swallowing as he stalls for time. It was unusual for the prince to initiate something like this, as he would so pliantly wait on his bed for you each night. Suppose something had changed within him, because he was being careless now, reckless, just like he’d been with the other maids, undoubtedly in the hopes of garnering your attention. 

“You haven’t visited me”, he finally huffs and you can’t help but grin, hoping that the small glimmer of satisfaction couldn’t be made out in the dimness of the cramped pantry. “Should I have visited you, your majesty?” The low drawl of your voice makes his brows knit as he bites back a noise of frustration. Pathetic, but endearing. 

Soobin nervously nibbles on his bottom lip, gaze flitting between you and the door leading out into the kitchen. When his eyes return to you, he gives an almost unnoticeable nod. “Yes”, he breathes, his face so close to yours that the puffs of air he emits hits your cheeks.

With the cock of your eyebrow, you scoff, “I see.” You weigh your options for a minute before you let your knees drop to the cold and hard floor with an exasperated sigh. Soobins mouth parts in a small gasp as your hands caress his thighs, legs quivering under your touch. But it isn't long before he halts you. — “N-No, not like that..!” He urgently whispers, reaching out to pull you back up but stopping himself, fingers mere inches from your arms. 

Confused, you peer up at him. “Is this not what his majesty wants?” You drawl to which he sheepishly shakes his head. It was an undeniably unfamiliar setting, the prince was used to such events taking place within the four walls of his bedchambers; even so, he had initiated this, hadn’t he? So why was he hesitating now? 

You stay where you are, hands stilling against his thighs as you let your head fall to the side. — “There’s more…I want that”, he croaks, his voice sounding near strained as he swallows a ragged breath. “More?” You ask, sounding almost surprised at his sudden request. But the prince eagerly nods, fingers tentatively flexing when you rise to your feet. 

“Yes”, he exhales, “You. N-Not just me..” Oh if only he knew how delectable he looked right now; nervously fidgeting as he awaits your verdict. — “Your majesty, those are marital duties, it is not something you engage in with a mere maid.” Your words make his eyes widen in shock, his breath hitching in his throat as he blinks dumbfoundedly. 

For a moment he doesn't say anything, and all that can be heard are your mingling breaths. Then he licks his lips, almost absentmindedly as his gaze drops to your chest, the standard uniform all maids wore wrapped loosely around your body. — “I do not care”, he finally states and your eyebrows raise. “Perhaps your majesty doesn’t realize the severity of the matter.” 

“I do”, his eyes find yours, and they’re filled with determination, a determination you had yet to witness, ever. “I know that it cannot be undone but I…” He hesitates, teeth catching the inside of his cheek as he exhales through his nose, lips drawn into a thin line, “I want to do this.” 

The urgency laced within his words made your heart stutter in a most unfamiliar way and you have to hold your tongue in fear of letting something slip. He wanted to? Did he even know what he was asking for? — It was most improper, but then again, there was little proper about the way you snuck into his room each night as you made him cum on your hands. 

Suppose a little practice couldn’t harm. It would be an absolute disgrace for him to disappoint on his wedding night. 

“If that is what his majesty wants..” Soobin’s eyes light up at your words, a hopeful smile spreading across his face as he nods. “Then I shall see to the matter tomorrow night-” — “No”, he cuts you off, taking a step closer, his chest nearly brushing against yours. “Not tomorrow. Now. Please.” 

He carefully reaches for your wrist, letting his fingers clasp around it as he guides the palm of your hand to his groin, pressing it against his undoubtedly hard cock with a shaky sigh. Bold. “Does his majesty not think of it improper? Such a vulgar place, not even in his bedchambers?” But the prince only shakes his head, his breath shallow as his eyes beg for you to give in, to give him what he wants. 

It was nearly impossible to say no. 

With a small squeeze of your hand, he emits a strangled moan, hips bucking up into your grasp as he seeks your touch. He whines when you pull away, eyes shooting open in confusion as his brows furrow. — “You will have to please me too, it is part of your marital duties.” 

Soobin’s lips part, then he seems to catch on, swallowing a gulp as he shyly nods. “Then I will be able to touch you?” He hesitantly wonders, fingers practically itching to graze your skin. The rules you had once so clearly set were on the verge of crumbling all together, but with the way the prince was looking at you, it was impossible not to let them. 

“You may — But I will let you know how it’s done.” 

Your arm drapes around his neck, pulling him flush against your chest in one flat move. Soobin nearly loses his balance though quickly catches himself against the shelf behind you. With a small tsk you regard his flushed frame, “You will have to hold me up, can you do that?” — Without hesitating he nods, murmuring a quiet ‘yes’ as his hands reach for the back of your thighs. 

The strength he hoists you up into his arms with takes you by surprise, and with your back pressed against the crammed shelf you let yourself relax in his grip. Your fingers reach for the hem of your skirt, pulling the fabric along your legs. Soobin’s eyes remain glued to the movement, hungirly roaming your now exposed skin as you bunch the garment around your hips.

“This as well”, you say, motioning toward your undergarment and Soobin only wavers for a second before gently tugging it down your thighs. — The sight of your glistening cunt makes him let out a small noise from the very back of his throat, fingers mindlessly moving to touch you. “Wait.” Your hand is on top of his, redirecting him to your inner thigh. “You need to start slow.” 

He nods like he’s understanding but you know better. Instead you let your own fingers drag across your folds, spreading them for him to see as you slowly circle your clit. Soobin squirms uncomfortably against you as his teeth catch his bottom lip, biting down hard enough to where he might draw blood. — Letting out a content sigh, you breach one finger inside, curling it to reach the spot that made you clench. 

Soobin watches you like he’s entranced, eyes occasionally darting up to catch a glimpse of your expression before hastily returning to your cunt, focusing on the way your finger slid in and out of you so effortlessly. — You catch his own hands twitching as he holds back from touching you, desperately waiting for your permission. It was endearing. 

With a small moan you withdraw your finger, coating the rest of them in your arousal before bringing them to his face. Not having to be told twice, Soobin’s lips part as he lets you slide them inside his warm mouth, tongue carefully wrapping around them as he gets a taste of you. The whine he gives shouldn’t have made your heart flutter like that and your cunt clench, but it did, and you knew that you’d need to feel him inside of you, and soon. 

You pull your hand from his mouth, earning a displeased grunt from the prince before he realizes where you’re heading. “Touch me like I showed you”, you instruct, shivering as the pad of his thumb timidly presses against your throbbing clit. — He nervously awaits your response, moving as if he’s walking on glass, as if one wrong move ought to make him come crumbling down. 

But when all he receives is a melodic moan as your head falls back against the shelf, he continues. Long fingers spreading your wet folds just like yours had moments prior, middle finger hesitating above your fluttering hole, he bites the inside of his cheek. — Soobin’s hands are bigger, they’re delicate and large, an odd combination, but a blissful one. His fingers reach deeper than yours ever could as he sinks them inside. 

He moves slowly, cautiously, his brows knitted together as sweat rolls down his forehead; entirely focused on making you feel good. It felt powerful to have him like this, if only the others knew. — Your arousal drenches both his fingers and hand, and Soobin is near panting as he eyes the way your cunt wraps around him. 

It’s not nearly enough, you need more and so does he. 

Soobin reluctantly lets you guide his hand from you, hands reaching for his dress pants as you undo them, just like you had so many times before, except tonight everything is different. “You’ll have to be slow this time around as well”, you say as you give his painfully hard cock a few gentle strokes. His grip on you immediately falters as you touch him, hips bucking up to meet your hand as he staggers against you. 

“Focus”, you snap, making him jolt as he swallows, gasping out a meek apology, fingers digging into your thighs as he holds you tightly. “If you can’t even please a mere maid, how will you do on your wedding night?” You scoff, jerking him off with rougher strokes, thumb flicking across his flushed tip as you draw a small cry from him.  

“I-I can please you!” He breathes, eyes piercing yours with determination. Your lips stretch into a grin, letting go of his cock as your hands come to rest atop his shoulders. “Prove it”, you drawl, watching as his face morphs from determination to shock to desire. — He’s been waiting for this, longing for it, and there’s no way he’s backing out now. 

His hand squeezes the base of his shaft, and Soobin nibbles on his bottom lip as he carefully slides his tip along your folds, breath hitching as he hears you moan. — He pushes past the tight rim of muscle slowly, just like you’d instructed him to, and you immediately clench around him. The sensation is so foreign, so… It’s everything, and he knows he won’t last long, you know it too. 

Gently easing himself inside, your face contorts into one of pleasure, short nails digging into his shoulders as you bite your tongue. — “Perfect”, you murmur, chest slowly rising and falling as your eyes flutter open, only to find his already locked on yours. His face is pink, the tip of his ears a bright red and his lips parted as he feels you wrap around him. 

“Move.” Your command makes him shiver and he nods, hips slowly rocking against yours. The stretch of his thick cock was unlike anything you’d ever felt before and you find yourself lost between wanting him to go even faster and savoring this moment, just like it was. — “I-Is this okay?” He breathes, his voice is meek, shy, and you grin. “It’s more than okay, your majesty.” 

The formality makes him frown, a small whine slipping from his lips. “Don’t call me that. Please”, he pleads, hot breath fanning across your neck as his head lulls against your shoulder, the sounds of his sloppy and uncalculated thrusts filling the small pantry. — Rolling your eyes, you let your hands travel to his hair, fingers intertwining in the blond strands there before tugging on them. The action causes a spark of pleasure to ripple through his body and Soobin moans against the skin of your neck. 

Upon feeling him twitch, your grin widens, “About to cum already?” He nods, a small whimper pulling at his lips as his hips stutter. “Your pathetic cock can’t even last a mere five minutes”, you scoff, and Soobin moans at the harsh words. So much for a soon-to-be reigning king you thought. — And though you can’t see his face, you’re almost certain that it’s scorching red. 

“Please.” 

Oh but you loved to hear him beg. Begging as if he didn’t have the world at his feet already. And you could never deny your prince, it was your duty after all. — You let him finish deep inside of your aching cunt, cock twitching as it fills you to the very brim. Soobin always looked beautiful when he climaxed. It was a sight you’d be late to forget, especially as he pulls back with a flustered smile, eyes dropping to where your bodies joined. 

You grab his hand, sliding it along the base of his cock before reaching your clit. “You’ve got to make me feel good as well”, your murmur, pressing his thumb against the swollen bud with a small moan. — “It’s part of your marital duties.”

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[thetxtdevil]

what type of kinks do u think txt has?💗

love this question...

nsfw/mdni, collaboration with my moots @hyukascampfire, @prince-jjae, @biteyoubiteme

Yeonjun

Daddy, he doesn't like when the boys call him old but damn does he love when his baby calls him daddy under him with big begging eyes. Exhibitionism, YJ is confident and knows that he is handsome with a equally if not more good looking s/o, would definitely want to show you off to the members, at a window, pictures hung around his house. Corruption, adores your innocence and likes to see it break, @hyukascampfire made an excellent point saying him eating you out and his eyes on your face wanting to watch you cum for the first time. and we all know he is made for eating out pussy.

Soobin

Breeding, we can all agree that this is his number one. He's just such a girls girl, loving, adoring your body and imagining it becoming plump with his baby all because of him :') he wants that responsibility he wants everyone to know that he fucked you good. Mutual masturbation, like I said, Soobin is someone who would be obsessed with you and sex so he'd be so turned on by watching you getting yourself off while his hand is in his pants or he helps you while you help him ykwim.

Beomgyu

Exhibitionism in a humiliation type of way, he loves seeing how your shy blushed face turns into a fucked one, eye rolled back, mouth gapped. You try to stop the exposure but he's is that good. Bondage, gyu loves getting under your skin, watching your grow irritated from not being able to touch him, he likes that power. Degrading, he want to call you his stupid bitch. :)

Taehyun

Strength, come on- it's a given, man is strong and have you seen him wrestle? Will play fight you until one of you get serious trying to take each other down, but ofc Tae with ultimately have you under him in a flash just how he likes it Choking, idk I read a tyun choking fic once and I was sold, kinda similar to his strength kink, he wants you to submit to him. Oh how can I forget, Noona kink, likes a wise, older girl to fuck.

Huening Kai

Size, this man has a big heart ykwim? will overcast you when on top and thinks it's cute, loves loves when you cry over him not fitting. Kai may seem innocent but once you release his freak you're spent. Dollification, Kai likes his toys and wants you to be his most favorite pretty toy. Speaking of toys.... wants to try every sex toy they have to offer, he's a switch, will torture you with a collar and tease with a vibrator or he'll let you peg him.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @naoristerling, @inkigayocamman

[tyuns-world]

⟢ Princess secrets ⟢

Paring: fem! Reader x guard! Kai x prince! Soobin

Genre: smut

Warnings: infidelity, slight coercion, degrading

Summary: You're trapped in an arranged marriage with a man you hardly know, so to regain some control, you seduce your night guard.

Wc: 2k

Your silk nightdress was hiked up, your hair messy, and the straps had slipped off your shoulders, exposing your breasts. You weren't supposed to be doing this—it was impure and improper. But your night guard was tall, strong, and irresistibly attractive, and you hated that you were arranged to marry tomorrow with no choice. You would never let your betrothed have your first time out of spite. Kai, your night guard, was overjoyed when you seduced him into your chambers. You wore the night dress your mother had gifted you for your upcoming wedding night. It was sexier than your usual one, leaving nothing to the imagination.

When you walked past your guard in it, he immediately blushed and asked where you were going this late at night, insisting that he accompany you since it wasn't safe or appropriate to be out at such an hour. You let out a sob story about a nightmare and how you were scared to be alone. You suggested he guard you from inside your room, making sure to feel his arm and mention how strong he looked. You knew this guard had a crush on you. He was meek and shy around you but stern and hard-shelled with anyone else. 

"Kai," you moan as he attaches his pretty lips to one of your hard nipples. He touches you gently, only brief caresses—a finger up your thigh, a soft kiss on your neck. He was as shy and inexperienced as you. He uses his thumb to rub your other nipple, making a string of breathy moans leave your lips. He was hell-bent on giving you all the pleasure, and you were perfectly fine with that.

"You're so good for me," you say, looking at the boy. He was so easy to excite, so controllable. "I'll always be good for you, Princess," he looks up at you, dazed and cute. You let him know, "You're so cute. How long have you wanted this? Hmm? I bet you heard me every night I touched myself." You tease the brown-haired boy. "I wished I could come in and help you. You always moan with so much need," he admits, his voice a low whisper, as he starts rubbing his fingers between your folds.

"Now you have the chance," you smirk, your eyes gleaming with mischief. That gave him a boost of confidence, and he kisses you passionately, his lips firm yet tender against yours. He lines himself up with your entrance and gently pushes inside. You arch your back, covering your mouth with your hand to stifle a loud moan. "I wanna hear your pretty noises, please," he begs softly, lifting your hand off your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his jaw. He lets out a soft groan, slowly starting to thrust inside you. Your body, always super sensitive, responds to his every touch, becoming wetter with the slightest caress.

Kai feels amazing inside you, filling you up in a way you've never experienced before. As he moves within you, you can feel every inch, every sensation, heightening your pleasure. His slow, deliberate thrusts send waves of ecstasy through your body. You dig your nails into his shoulders, your breath hitching with each movement. "Are you sure this is your first time?" you jest. Kai snaps his hips a bit more forcefully in response.

"I've only thought of you, and I've only wanted you," he admits, kissing your neck and thrusting faster. "You're such a good boy," you whisper, tugging on his hair lightly, eliciting a moan from him. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. Your body feels heavenly, your moans growing more and more needy.

"So pretty, such pretty moans. You're so beautiful," he whimpers in your ear. The feeling of him inside you grows more and more overwhelming. He lifts his head, forehead brimming with sweat, looking at you with such adoration and desire. "More," you needily demand, and the boy follows your order, thrusting harder, deeper, more urgently. Kai's rhythm becomes more erratic, his breathing heavier. You can tell he's close, and so are you. You pull him down, whispering in his ear, "Finish in me."

That sends him over the edge. He starts groaning your name, more and more, until he orgasms inside you. He keeps thrusting, riding out his orgasm, the sensations pushing you to finish with him inside you. He slows down to a stop, then softly pulls out of you.

Panting, he crawls out of the bed. "I should get back to my post. Morning will come soon," he says. "I guess it's time for reality again," you complain, standing up and fixing your clothing. "Send the maids in to change these sheets," you order, your tone firm but soft.

"Yes, Princess," he replies, quickly getting back into his uniform. Before he leaves, he gives you a fiery kiss, his lips lingering on yours. "Don't forget about me," he says, his eyes burning with intensity. "This wont be the last time" you reply. He smiles, then slips out of your room. 

The next morning, your maids diligently prepare you for your wedding. Once your curly hair was properly pinned and you were properly adorned with jewels and fluff, you are escorted to your ceremony. It all passes in a blur—the empty vows, the ring exchange, the crowns, changing into a second dress, and of course, the long dinner filled with fake smiles and forced laughter. When it is finally bedtime, you are ecstatic for some alone time, especially with your favorite guard. But just as you reach your room, your husband Soobin grabs your hand before you can escape. "You bed with me now, remember," he whispers in your ear, guiding you to your new shared room.

You are surprised at how fast the staff worked; all of your belongings are already here. You let out a slight scoff. A knock comes at the door, and your 'husband' grins, as if knowing exactly who the guest is. He opens the door, and to your surprise, it's your night guard, Kai.

He looks nervous, slightly fiddling with his uniform. "Sit," your husband commands, pulling out a chair from the desk and practically forcing Kai down into it. "You see, last night I was hoping to sneak my soon to be wife out to the garden for a romantic stroll, but it seems she was a little busy. All I heard was her moaning 'Kai,'" Soobin says, his voice dripping with malice. You tense up, facing away from your husband. "I know nothing of that," you lie, moving towards the wardrobe and grabbing a nightgown. Your husband walks up behind you, the heat of his body and his breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. "Oh, so you don't want to admit that your loose?" he chuckles darkly.

"I should get to my post," Kai starts to stand up. "Sit down, that's an order," your husband demands coldly. You turn to face him. "Leave Kai out of this. I seduced him," you beg."Oh, I know," he smirks. "Let's get ready for bed," he continues, softly helping you out of your dress. Once you are down to your slip, he stops. "At least he didn't mark you, dear," Soobin says, gently kissing down your neck. You feel inclined to stop him, you should stop him, but the kisses made you wet. "Soobi—" you start to say.

"It's Your Majesty, my lovely wife," he interrupts. "Your Majesty, I don't think we should do this in front of the guard," you say, your voice trembling. "Oh? You were the one who invited him into our bed. So now he must watch," Soobin replies, pulling you closer and kissing you softly but more demandingly than Kai's kisses. It leaves you breathless. you were panting looking up at him he was taller than kai, with dark hair, and more demanding energy. "I don't understand," you softly say. "We have to consummate our marriage, remember?" he replies, slipping one of your straps off your shoulder. "It's customary. Unless you don't want to, you're free to reject me. I won't force you." He stops all his movement but stays in front of you. He was right; it was customary, and you bet there are maids and staff 'dropping' something in front of this door, hoping to hear something.

You didn't hate him, just the fact that you didn't have a choice in the marriage. He was handsome and obviously knew what he was doing in the sexual department. So you pull him into a kiss. It was hesitant on your end but passionate on your husband's. "So, did you enjoy bedding the guard?" he asks when you part. You open and close your mouth, unsure how to answer. He doesn't seem to mind, attaching his lips to your neck once more, trailing kisses down. "Did you have your fun?" he says more coldly, sucking harshly on your collarbone. You let out a gasp of pleasure. "She doesn't like it rough," Kai pipes up, reminding you he was still there.

"Hmm, I think I'll let my wife decide that," Soobin retorts, spinning you around so you're facing Kai with Soobin behind you.

Soobin presses his hardness against your ass. You almost rub yourself against him at the touch, but he pulls back slightly, leaving a trail of love marks down your neck. You whine, your hips instinctively moving against him. Kai's eyes were focused on you, observing your reactions with his own evident arousal. You couldn't help but compare the two men as Soobin ran his hands all over you. His touch was possessive and confident, in stark contrast to Kai's soft and affectionate caresses.

"Do you want this, my lovely wife? Do you want me to show you what it means to be mine?" Soobin's voice was commanding, sending shivers down your spine. "Want me to fuck you properly?" he adds, glancing briefly at Kai. You give a slow nod. Soobin wastes no time; he drops your dress off your body and guides you to the bed, sitting you down gently. He strips his own clothes off and stands before you. "Suck," he demands, tangling his fingers in your hair. 

You look up at him, hesitatingly grabbing his hard member and obediently taking him into your mouth. He tightens his grip on your hair, guiding your movements as you taste him; his cock is warm and slightly salty. He smirks at the sight, clearly enjoying his control over you. "See, she doesn't need a soft touch. Tramps need to be commanded," he asserts, forcing more of his cock into your mouth. Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle not to gag around him. You're torn; you enjoyed Kai's delicate touch and praise, but Soobin's commanding possessiveness also ignites a heat between your legs.

When he feels himself close to the edge, Soobin pulls you off his dick and lays you down on the bed. He reaches between your legs, rubbing your clit roughly. "See how wet she is," he announces, showing Kai his fingers wet with your slick. Kai crosses his arms, scoffing. "Yeah, but whose name did she moan all last night? She's yet to say yours," he spits out. Soobin retaliates against you, pulling you into a harsh, hungry kiss. With sudden urgency, he enters you, and you moan into his lips. His thrusts are confident, hitting your spot immediately. You know this isn't his first time. "You call me loose, but you seem experienced," you muse breathlessly.

"I didn't sleep with anyone the night before I was meant to be wed," he retorts, fucking you harder, grabbing your breasts and flicking your nipple. You gasp at the sensation, gripping the sheets underneath you. Soobin's pace is relentless, each thrust deeper and harder. The room is filled with your moans, the overwhelming pleasure taking over. You glance over at Kai; his gaze is unwavering, and you want to explain to him why you're so overwhelmed and reassure him that he felt great too. But your husband grabs your face, forcing you to make eye contact with him. His eyes are dark and angry. "Still thinking about him as I fuck you, hmm? Was he that good? Was he better?" You try to respond, but Soobin's forceful grip on your face silences you. His eyes bore into yours, demanding your complete attention.

"I asked you a question," he growls, his voice low and intense. His other hand trails down your body, teasingly tracing the curve of your hip before gripping it firmly. You moan at his touch, and he seems pleased, loosening his grip on your face. His hands roam over your body possessively, claiming you in every way possible. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, the tension building to an unbearable peak. You climax around him, crying out his name. He drops his head to your shoulder, his thrusts becoming sloppier. "Mine," he chants repeatedly, his voice hoarse with desire as he paints your walls with his release.

You were both breathless and spent. Your husband pulls out, smirking as he stands up and saunters over to Kai. He stands behind the chair. "Strip," he tells Kai. "Excuse me?" Kai looks up at him incredulously. "You want my wife, right?" he smirks at Kai. Kai hesitantly stands and takes off his guard uniform. Your husband calls you over. "On your knees," he orders you, and pushes Kai back into his seat. You kneel in front of your guard, looking up at him with uncertain eyes. Soobin moves behind you.

"Go on, sweetheart, you know what to do," he pets your head. You lick up Kai's dick, causing him to groan at the contact. "Don't tease the poor boy," your husband says, as you fully take Kai's dick into your mouth. "So pretty," is all that comes out of Kai's lips. You look up at him, making eye contact. You suck harder, making him throw his head back in pleasure. Kai starts unconsciously thrusting into your mouth. "Good girl," Soobin praises, his voice low and commanding. "Make him feel good." Kai is whimpering in the chair, hips moving on their own. You obey, your tongue swirling around Kai's length, eliciting more moans from him. His eyes flutter closed, lost in the pleasure you're giving him. Meanwhile, Soobin's touch on your back sends tingles of excitement through your body. 

"Take it all," Soobin whispers huskily in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Show him how much you want it." Encouraged by Soobin's words, you take Kai deeper, sucking and licking with increasing intensity. Kai's grip on the chair tightens, his hips lifting involuntarily as he nears his climax. With a final, desperate groan, Kai releases into your mouth, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. You swallow, tasting him fully, as Soobin watches with approval.

[blackhairedjjun]

the forest of you

pairing: choi soobin x gn reader | genre / tropes: fluff, cottagecore au, fantasy au, prince!soobin x witch!reader, mutual pining, just very soft vibes | word count: 1.9k | warnings: none, just a little (friendly) teasing

summary: prince soobin lives undercover as a commoner as part of a royal tradition, and you are the local potion-maker tasked with caring for him and magically maintaining his disguise. you take him to the forest one day to forage for ingredients, and you start to realize just how much you need him with you.

author's notes: i wrote this after binge-listening to soobin's forest cover, it was just soooo comforting and beautiful 🥰🥰 this fic isn't that overtly romantic since i mostly focused on recreating the comforting vibes and message of the original cover, but the pining is still there (i hope). the premise of this story is based on an idea i had some time ago but never turned into a fic, i do have ideas for fics in the same setting though!

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“y’know, soobin, you’ve become less scared of the forest since you got here,” you say, swinging your herb basket back and forth as you walk.

“oh really?” the prince stares at you, his mouth agape at first before morphing into his familiar dimpled smile. cute. “i suppose that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“it’s a very good thing. having company with me is nice.”

soobin trails behind you as you trudge down the worn dirt paths of the forest, trees on all sides towering over you. you hum as you walk, eyes on the lookout for anything of use in your potions: flowers, berries, mushrooms, seeds, leaves, even fallen bird feathers. from time to time you turn back to glance at your ward, who follows at a comfortable pace while gazing at the canopy above him.

he stops in his tracks and points at a patch of mushrooms growing on the bark of a tree. the mushrooms are at his eye level, above your head. “wait, these are the ones you use for my disguise potion, right?”

“that’s right! i missed that 一 thank goodness i’ve got a tall person helping me out.”

soobin pries the mushrooms from the bark hands it to you, a proud grin on his face. you can’t help but smile yourself in admiration, and your smile only grows when his hands brush yours while he places them in your basket. “thank you,” you whisper.

now you walk side-by-side through the forest, and you much prefer it this way. even with his princely nature hidden, you find something reassuring about his presence: soobin towers over you, but he moves slowly, deliberately matching his stride to yours, even the swinging of his arms in sync. he stays close by you, as if protecting you from anything that might leap out of the forest, and your arms nearly brush his a few times.

every now and then you stop to take something from the forest: a cluster of deep red berries, a yellow-green fern growing in swirling patterns, a flower so white it practically shines on the forest floor. soobin gazes at you intently as you do your job, and you’re so engrossed in your work that you miss the soft smile that crosses his face while he observes.

“did you really do all this by yourself before i came here?” he asks as you step through a narrow space between two gnarled trees. in the distance some birds begin to caw, but you don’t even flinch at the sound.

“pretty much. i’m used to it, i guess.”

“and you weren’t lonely or scared? that’s really cool, y/n.”

“i wasn’t always like this,” you say as you pry another mushroom from some tree bark for soobin’s disguise potion. “the first time i went on my own, i wanted to prove to my parents that i could forage by myself. y’know, be a real witch and everything. but i was shaking the whole time... and i missed my parents so much. they used to point out the different birds to me while they foraged, or they’d just look at me all excited if they found a rare ingredient. and that’s what i missed the most, just having someone to be with.”

soobin presses his lips together as he listens to you. you’ve been foraging on your own for years, and though you tell yourself that you’re used to it, your heart aches at the memory. you turn to face him and your eyes meet. 

“i get what you mean,” he says. “when i first came here for my incognito period, i remember missing everyone a lot. my parents and all the palace staff... kai, beomgyu... your cottage was so quiet in comparison. not that it’s a bad place, it’s just...”

“not home?”

soobin nods, his gaze falling to the dried leaves on the forest floor. the two of you continue walking through the forest, stopping only a few minutes later so that you can collect a few wild berries from a bush.

“it feels more like home now, though,” soobin says as he crouches down to help you. “i like the smell of the herbs from your garden and how toasty the cauldron room is. and helping you is, ah, it’s fun... you care about your potions so much and i like watching you work.”

you laugh softly to yourself, turning away as you feel a warmth spread through your cheeks. “it’s... well, i’m used to it. and having you around has helped a lot.”

“sometimes i feel more like a bother than a help. you work so fast!”

“don’t say that, you’re plenty helpful. look at you right now, i would have missed some of the berries hidden here if it weren’t for you.”

with the berries collected and placed in your basket, you stand up at the same time. you don’t realize at first how close soobin is standing to you, but your eyes meet his and you can’t bring it in yourself to look away. the prince gazes at you as if trying to speak without words, as if telling you from his presence alone that everything will be alright.

he reminds you of the forest too, you think: tall and quiet and seemingly stern, but filled with a cool comfort all his own. 

your mutual reverie is broken by the cawing of a nearby flock of birds. soobin jumps and nearly falls; you grab onto his hand and you both wobble before he finds his balance.

“sorry...”

“it’s一it’s fine.” your hand is still holding onto his, and your cheeks feel hot. “we should keep moving.”

the two of you continue through the forest, taking care not to travel too deep but stay at the periphery. soobin stays close to you, and you thread your arm through his 一 this will slow your pace, but you don’t mind.

“by the way, i changed the measurements of the disguise potion a bit,” you say as soobin crouches down to pick some flowerbuds. “i’m not sure if you felt any difference.”

“oh really? it felt the same to me.” he shrugs and places the flowerbuds in your basket. “i always feel... disoriented when i use it.”

“i know, that’s why i was trying to change it...”

“don’t worry about it too much.” soobin glances up at a tree branch right above him, and a cool breeze blows down on both of you. “it’s just... when i’m a prince, i feel shy from all the people watching me, but when i’m disguised, it feels odd not being recognized, as if no one cares about me. does that make sense?”

you’re quiet for a few moments. you glance up at the canopy, then back at soobin; prince or not, there’s something about him that feels right at home here. 

“i see what you mean... being around others is exhausting, but being by yourself is lonely. right?”

“yeah, exactly.”

“what about being with me?” you give him a teasing grin. “do you ever get sick of me?”

he grins right back at you, even rolling his eyes for dramatic effect. “yeah, i get totally sick of you. when i become prince again i’m banishing you so that i never see you again.”

“you could never do that, i bet. who’s going to make the potions of soothing to help you fall asleep, huh?”

“i’ve been stuck with you long enough that i could make it myself!”

you elbow him gently and you both laugh. the sound rings through the forest, and it makes the place seem smaller and warmer than it is.

you’ve often wondered what will happen when soobin’s incognito period ends and he goes back to his princely role. when the royal family first approached you to help with their son’s journey 一 apparently an old tradition to help future monarchs stay in touch with the common folk 一 you didn’t think much of it. you’d get an apprentice, make a few extra potions of disguise for him, then collect a hefty royal commission after eighteen months. at first, it had been nothing more than a chance to get an extra pair of hands and supplement your income as a potion-making witch.

but as you walk through the forest, arm in arm with soobin, you realize that you like the new routine you’ve established. the young prince helps you sell potions and make bread for meals, and more than once you’ve caught him giving harsh glares at rude customers who want to use your potions for nefarious purposes. and though his accompaniment to your weekly forages were originally nothing more than an excuse to get some help, you now find it impossible to imagine going on them without him.

soobin and the forest and you: in your mind they all fit together.

you’re so lost in your thoughts that he has to move in front of you to catch your attention. “y/n?”

“oh 一 sorry!”

“you know i was just kidding, right?”

“huh...?”

“about banishing you, i mean,” he says. “i like being around you too much.”

“ah 一 yeah! d-don’t worry, i know,” you say, and now even your ears are warm together with your cheeks. “and um, thank you.”

you blink a few times and glance around. the trees have become more gnarled and more densely packed together. you realize that the two of you are starting to approach the heart of the forest; go any deeper and things will get dangerous, not just from wild animals but also from wild magic. “uh, we should... go back...”

soobin nods and waits for you to lead the way before falling in beside you. again he offers his arm, and you thread yours around it. with his free hand he offers to carry your basket for you; it has gotten heavier from the foraging you’ve been doing. you shake your head and give him a polite smile, letting him know that you can carry it just fine, but the gesture opens up a lightness in your heart.

the walk back to the main road is quiet, but not awkwardly so. such moments of silence are not uncommon with soobin, but they have a comfort all their own; the prince smiles to himself as he walks, taking the time to admire the lush green canopy above or the carpet of flowers and ferns growing in between the tree roots. you find yourself sneaking glances at him and following his gaze to whatever plant has caught his attention 一 you’re so used to forest forages that you’ve forgotten how to stop and admire the scenery.

can you really imagine the forest without him? you feel his arm wound around yours, anchoring you, and it reminds you of the tree roots beneath your feet.

by the time you reach the edge of the forest, the sun has started to set and the sky has turned orange. rays of yellow light peek through the remains of the canopy. you put your free hand up to your face to block out the most blinding rays, and soobin tightens his grip around your arm. 

“let’s go home?” he says. 

you turn to him and smile. he looks radiant in this light.

“let’s go home.”

[wave2tyun]

eyes locked, hands locked | ☆

pairing: prince!soobin x reader

genre: royal!au, fluff<3

prompts: - “was that your first kiss?”

- “stop looking at me like that”

warnings: none!

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i apologise for the long wait my lovely anon!!😔😔💞 have fun reading hehe!! :DD<3💞���💖💘💞 honestly, going through this one again really makes me want to have another go at royal aus, perhaps something longer?? but at the same time i have too many wips going on and AHHHHHHHH i wish the fics would write themselves as fast as my thoughts go through my brain<//3

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

there was nothing more besides the cheery, tiny crickets in the grass that kept you company in the coldness of the night.

while everybody else was busy running around the castle, setting food down on the tables or balancing the champagne-filled glasses on silver trays, your one and only job was to watch over the garden’s flower section, careful so as not to let any curious kids wander off around the perimeter and trample all over them in the darkness.

that was how you were supposed to spend your evening: pacing around the cobblestone pathway, watching the moon and stars, feeling your heart ache as the grand classical music pierced the silence at midnight, wondering if soobin had found himself a partner to dance with, to hold close, to court.

you could tell that the chore had been specially tailored for you by the queen: it kept you away from the ballroom, the guests, and most importantly, from her son. she wasn’t exactly fond of the way the relationship between the two of you had been evolving- your presence left a bitter taste in her mouth, she couldn’t risk having you, a maid, impede the royal family from continuing their pure, blue blood heritage.

you were way too absorbed by the dancing silhouettes you could see from the windows -wishing that you, too, could slip inside- that you didn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching.

soobin was right behind your back, out of breath, hands slightly sweating while he looked at your figure. he wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you in tightly as he tenderly embraced you “i missed you” you heard him whisper, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

you couldn’t fight back the smile taking over your face, feeling relief that he was alongside you, and not with some stranger, holding them close to his chest, swaying them across the dance floor “how did you sneak out?”

“beomgyu helped me- he made a mess at the dining table while attempting to pull a magic trick” soobin chuckled, remembering the way all the plates and glasses flew in the air as his friend pulled at the table cloth “needless to say, my parents were too astounded to keep their eyes on me”

you laughed at his explanation, knowing beomgyu, the incident must have been much more ridiculous than anything you could ever imagine. he sacrificed himself just so that the two of you could meet. however, the royal family adored him too much to ever throw him out, not matter how chaotic his endeavours were.

“i missed this” soobin placed a kiss on your right shoulder “-and this” he sweetly pecked your cheek, then spun your body around so that you could fully face him. the dim light shining from the lamp poles illuminated your features, giving them a gentle, mellow glow, and, perhaps without even realising it, soobin was leaning closer towards your lips. your breath hitched in your throat as you noticed how short the distance between you was getting, and yet, you allowed him to do it- to close the remaining gap.

you were stiff, anxious, forgetting to close your eyes or at least kiss him back, your mind could only focus on the softness of his lips and how his hand began to trail further down your waist. soobin separated himself from you hesitantly, not too much, only to the point where you could still feel his breath fanning on your face “i apologise, did i go too far-“

“no- that’s not the case” you cut him off. there was a tremble in your voice and it was impossible for him to tell whether it was from anger, sadness, or perhaps nervousness. you tapped your lips with your fingers, struggling the words that wouldn’t make this more embarrassing for you than it already was.

soobin’s head tilted to the side, expecting you to go on further. he couldn’t quite understand why you just stood there when he kissed you, like a statue devoid of emotion. you had always been cold on the surface, mostly unaccepting of any external forces. that didn’t stop soobin from delving deeper inside your heart, he knew that, in reality, behind all your pretending, you were warm, a certain kind of warmth that he’d crave more and more as time went on.

which is why, despite all the distance you had desperately tried to place between the two of you over the years, he still found himself calling out for you. it was inevitable- you were pulling him in like a magnet.

the flowers seemed to pick at his interest only when he walked around the garden with you. maybe because he was all too immersed by your gaze, wanting to find out which plant had your wholehearted attention. maybe it was because he wanted you to look at him that way too- or, maybe he just dreamed of gifting you a bouquet of all your favorite flowers, all handpicked by him from the garden.

the pastries tasted better whenever you were the one who made them, not mr. hughes, the main chef, or any of the other maids. so, each time he spotted a fresh batch made by you in the castle’s kitchen, he’d place one in his mouth stuffing his pockets with at least four more pieces. the butter from the sweets turned the fabric into a dirty, buttery mess, which the maids on cleaning duty loved to complain about. they couldn’t get how, at some point during the week, the pants in his laundry basket managed to reach this state.

he couldn’t deny it, he was completely, thoroughly infatuated by you.

“it’s all new to me” you attempted to reveal the truth, unaware of how vague your statement must have sounded.

soobin continued to look at you with a purely clueless look “what is?” the tone of his voice was a mixture of confusion and concern.

“this” your thumb reached out to graze his lower lip, eyes following the motion. soobin took your hand, holding it against his cheek while smiling.

“was that your first kiss?” his voice quivered as he asked, hiding a laugh. the situation, albeit embarrassing for you, was foolishly endearing for him.

“stop looking at me like that” you dodged his question, returning to your usual, rash behaviour, but soobin knew that you were only doing it out of nervousness.

“why? am i making your heart thump faster?” he whispered, placing a kiss on the inside of your palm “or-“ he leaned down, continuing to speak in a low tone as he reached your ear “perhaps you already want more?”

you gave his shoulder a slight push. where was the flustered boy from a few seconds ago, the one whose eyes widened at the thought of having stolen your first kiss?

“i think you’re getting way too ahead of yourself-”

“i’m not, you’re just afraid” he provoked you, now that it was clear in his mind that you did want the kiss, you just didn’t know how to return it. knowing your ego and short temper, how else could he ensure himself another taste, if not by teasing you?

“afraid of what?” you scoffed.

“of being a bad kisser”

“i’m not-“ your tone sharpened as you looked at him.

“well, how would you know?” he snickered “wasn’t this your first kiss, or am i mistaken?”

by the way he spoke, you could tell that he was enjoying this more and more by the second. catching on to the trap he was leading you to, you grabbed a fistful of his shirt, a tangled mixture of his collar and necklace in your hand as you pulled him closer, pressing your lips to his. you didn’t know exactly what to do, you only puckered your lips, hoping that it was enough to make a difference from your earlier kiss. soobin pulled away with a chuckle, tilting your chin up with one finger “i believe you need more practice, sweetheart”

taglist: @huekalover3000

[lovetaroandtaemin]

TXT: Dom or Sub and Their Top Kinks

THIS LIST IS NSFW! MINORS DNI! Warnings: Dom/sub dynamics (titles used: daddy, sir, master, mommy), pegging, sensory play, hair pulling, impact play, praise and degradation, biting, exhibitionism and voyeurism, edging, lingerie, facials/cum play, knife play, spit kink, begging A/N: Kinktober starts tomorrow! I really hope you all enjoy the fics I've been working so hard on. If you do, I'd love to hear about it! Happy reading, and happy spooky season!

List is under the cut.

Yeonjun

Sub-leaning switch

Likes when you call him “sweetheart” and “prince.” On the rare occasions that he feels like being more dominant, you get in trouble for calling him anything but “daddy”

Peg him and he’s yours forever

Seems like he’d like sensory play, especially anything involving feathers or ice

Definitely likes having his hair pulled

Soobin

Dom-leaning switch

Not one for titles, he likes when you say his name in bed

On the rare occasion he feels like being more submissive, god help you. I feel like he’d be the biggest brat ever

Likes spanking and being spanked

Loves to combine praise and degradation in ways that make your head spin

Beomgyu

MEAN dom

You get in trouble if you call him anything but “master” or “sir”

Knife play. That’s all.

Likes biting you, LOVES when you bite him

Really really enjoys tying you up

Taehyun

Soft dom

Likes to be called either “sir” or “Tae”

It’s rare that he punishes you, but I feel like when he does he either edges you or makes you watch him get off. If you really push his buttons, he combines the two

Really really likes it when you wear lingerie

I can’t decide if he prefers facials or cumming all over your tits so I’m gonna say it depends on the mood he’s in

Huening Kai

Bratty sub

Preferred pet names are “angel,” “pretty boy,” and “slut”

I just KNOW he’s into knife play.

Likes praise, LOVES degradation

Spit in his mouth and he’ll start begging to call you mommy

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please like and reblog! If you want to see the other lists I've posted, or read my fics, you can find them here! If you'd like to see the fics I'll be posting after Kinktober is done, you can read my upcoming works here! If you'd like to see what I have in store for Kinktober, you can find that masterlist here. If none of that catches your attention or there's something specific you'd like to see, send a request via asks or dms! Have a lovely day!

Thank you again for reading this one, seeing y'all interact with my posts makes me so happy.

[yeonboy]

𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 ♡ choi soobin.

If it was up to you, you would worship the very ground Choi Soobin walks. No, you’re not a simp, he’s just that amazing – the star of your college’s broadcasting club, your role model, the reason why you even have a dream career, and��someone you’d really like to make out with if he’d allow it. But the first ever conversation you have with him has your rose-tinted, star-studded glasses shattering to pieces when he turns out to be a huge jerk. Is this just a misunderstanding or is it the end?

❧ choi soobin x f. reader | 16+ | college!au ♡ strangers to lovers!au ♡ angst ♡ fluff

❧ 10 k words

❧ warnings! inaccuracies wrt broadcasting journalism majors & college broadcasting clubs, profanity, some suggestive language, misunderstandings, allusions to slut-shaming, soobin being an accidental (?) asshole, some heartbreak, some conflict, some yelling, insecurities wrt social standing in college, yn is a certified soob simp™ but goes thru a hater era for half a day </3, stinky cute fluff later on, some cringe, so much blushinG it’ll make u sick, a make out sesh, cameo by yj & his girl from fic 1 bec i love them sm :(

❧ note! set in the same universe as no one but you. i’ve been working on this since marCh, idk why it took me so long to finish? the wc def ran away from me a little whoops! anyways, this gets rough in the middle – soobin might shock u with his behavior but it will all get resolved, i promise!

leave me feedback if you like this! follow for more! (:

❧ masterlist | inbox ⁘

“I’m sorry, the tryouts are closed!”

You blink. Take a step away. Peek at the huge poster stuck on the huger double doors to the auditorium. The notice says the tryouts would run from four to six in the evening – it’s presently five minutes past five. What the heck?

Around you, you notice a number of girls looking as disgruntled as you feel. You approach one. “Uh, hey…did you already do your piece?”

The girl twirls a vibrant purple strand of hair around her finger and rolls her eyes. “Nope. Choi’s bitch ass shut the doors unannounced ’cause he’s pissed off for some reason.”

Choi? Bitch ass? This girl can’t possibly be talking about the Choi Soobin, right? The prince of the university’s broadcasting club who always emcees every single stage performance the university hosts?

No, she can’t be. No one would refer to the Choi Soobin’s glorious behind as ‘bitch ass.’ Besides, you really don’t think he’d sit around judging freshmen entrants to the club when he’s got so many better, so much cooler things on his schedule.

Choi Soobin the Great has been in this club for three years, two of which he has spent as its president. That, in itself, should be pretty explanatory with regards to how skilled he is at the whole announcer, emcee, broadcast business. 

His extraordinary talent with the mic is what inspired you to pick broadcast journalism as your major, in fact. You'd entered the university on jittery, scared steps because you didn't believe you would actually find something that interested you enough to make a career out of. You spent a whole academic year fluttering between psych and communication, aimless and despaired.

But then came sophomore year where you volunteered to set things up for the new freshman batch's orientation week – and that is when you saw Choi Soobin, a fellow sophomore, take the stage and blow everyone away. He was so good with his audience of the new admittees, providing them with all the important information without making them feel nervous because he used the perfect amount of jokes as a buffer.

It was love at first sight for you.

Okay, like, not like that. You did end up making an altar for Choi Soobin the Great where you continue to worship on the daily because he's a god on stage, but what you actually fell in love with was the art of emceeing.

So you registered your major in your third semester and began to work on polishing your skills. Now, two semesters later and midway through the junior year, you finally feel confident and prepared enough to enter your God's actual, holy shrine and join his praying circle.

…maybe you should stop with these metaphors before it gets weird.

Anyways.

Case in point – unlike this uninformed rodent of a girl who found it fit to disrespect your role model and gave up on these tryouts in favor of rolling her eyes and complaining in the hallway, you are nothing if not strong-willed. 

You are finally ready to do something about your one true passion that you can actually see yourself pursuing professionally after college. Being part of the university's broadcasting club means guaranteed dream job; you've seen it happen with your eyes for two consecutive years. You're finally ready to follow suit; finally ready to join the ranks of the elite and learn from Choi Soobin the Great himself – and you are not about to let a gruff call of  "tryouts are closed" from an overworked janitor deter you.

Checking this way and that for any onlookers, you sneak off to the narrow passage to the side that you know connects to this auditorium's back door, and in turn, the cafeteria. You're just gonna casually stroll through it, maybe loiter a bit around the doors until someone from the judges panel steps out so that you can beg them to give you a chance. And if someone catches you? You were just looking for the cafe!

It's the perfect plan.

Until, that is, your loitering ends with the legend himself, Choi Soobin the Great stepping out of the backdoor and freezing you to a statue.

You've seen the man from afar more times than you can count on both hands. You're a true fan, a great admirer, a semi-obsessed devotee (?) of his. But never once have you seen the guy from this up close. Needless to say, your brain's short circuiting a little.

Three things strike you all at one – that the university's emcee prince did, in fact, sit in to judge freshman entrants to the broadcasting club despite his various busy schedules; that the purple haired female auditionee actually did call this great man's glorious behind 'bitch ass' like an uncultured heathen; and finally, that Choi Soobin sporting a combination of dark black hair, bright red lips and stark white t-shirt should be banned because it can cause brain malfunctions in people.

Because while the guy's eyes widen and then squint as he looks at you, and mouth opens as if to say something to you – you stay absolutely frozen, literally turned to stone without a single muscle moving in your body. Including your lungs that are jammed because you're pretty sure you aren't breathing.

"Um… can I help you?"

Oh shit, his dimples…

His dimples!

You realise this is entering borderline creepy territory but you can't help staring at him. He's just so pretty. Though your brain functions are still experiencing a slight lag, you're starting to realize that your crush on the guy is winning over the admiration and respect you have for his talents, at the moment.

He's ethereal. He's unearthly. He's the most beautiful guy you've ever met. You're a simp.

"Excuse me?" Soobin's head tilts to the side in confusion. "Can I help you?"

He definitely can, in more ways than one, but that conversation is for another time.

His impatiently raised eyebrows suddenly push you back into motion, breaking your frozen state, but now you're on an overdrive, very close to hyperventilating in front of him.

"H–hey! I mean, h–hi. I mean, fancy bumping into you here! N–not that we bumped, just, uh—haha, you know? Fancy – fancy seeing you here, how have you been?"

Oh

God.

Did all of that just exit your mouth?

You need a shovel because this calls for digging up a hole and burying yourself alive. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Your entire face feels like it's caught on fire, and all the nerve endings in your body are tingling from embarrassment. You feel like you're vibrating. Wait, if you vibrate at a frequency that's outside of the visible range, can you voluntarily make yourself disappear?

The only thing holding you back from combusting into flames is the amused smile that replaces the previously formal tilt on Soobin's lips. "Hi. I'm sorry, where do I know you from? You look very familiar, but I'm just missing it…"

You look familiar? So he does notice you in class! Maybe getting that hair spa last month has worked in your favor, after all. You're getting a little googly eyed, but you do your best to control your reactions as you gauge his.

He looks so darn cute with his dimpled smile that makes his eyes squint, that you're left gaping for a couple of seconds before you're able to notice the hand he is forwarding you. Nodding haphazardly, you forward yours and let him wrap his huge palm around your significantly smaller one. Even though you try to repress it, the warmth his skin emanates sends a shiver running through you.

If Soobin notices the subtle shake your body gives, he doesn't comment on it.

He's being so angelically patient and kind, you need to get it together! 

So you clap your hands in front of your face and pull your lips up in a smile, preparing yourself to say your thing without any unnecessary words this time. 

"Uh, I'm – I'm in your class? I don't know if you know me, but I know you! I'm, um, I'm here for the broadcasting club. And – and I noticed that the banner said that the tryouts would run from four to six, but I've been told that the gates have been closed when it is barely past five, so I was… w–wondering…" You slowly trail off, stuttering a little when Soobin's facial expressions do a sudden one-eighty.

Gone is the sweet, dimpled, kind guy who was smiling at you with his eyes. Now his lips are pursed and eyebrows furrowed, a clear look of irritation on his face. Well, he's still got a dimple showing, but this one's part of his frowny face so you're not sure if you should be admiring it anymore.

"Wow. You're gutsy." His tone has changed now, too, really stiff with an underlying scoff in words. "Did you follow me here?"

You blink in surprise. "What? Of course not! The – the main doors were closed, so I was looking for another way in and—"

"Good God, please stop talking," he interrupts you with a groan, rolling his eyes as he tilts his head to look skywards – and you're fully paralyzed now, clueless and a little scared because Soobin looks so mean and intimidating with his eyebrows scrunched up like that. "I don't get what you guys' problem is. I'm – I'm trying to do something serious here. Why the hell do you not get it?"

Blinking slowly, you gape at your idol, your icon, the deity of all things broadcasting as he yells at you about something you can make neither head nor tail of. 

'You guys'? Who? 

You know that you of all people definitely get that he's doing something serious. You're as much, if not more, serious about the club yourself; the reason why you've taken so long to decide to audition for it. Besides, how's he judging you when you've never met before?

Willing your frozen lips to move, you attempt to clear the air. "We've – we've never met before. You don't know me. I'm—"

"Oh, I know you enough." This time there is vitriol in his eyes as he spits the words, and you take an actual, vary step away from Soobin. "I've been through twenty auditions and seen fifty applications in the past hour and every single one of the girls like you is dying to get to interview the hockey team and talk to Yeonjun about his strategy for his final season in college. So I know exactly who you are and exactly what you're after."

He is rolling his eyes again, this time with both his hands braced on his waist.

But his words are very confusing and a little hurtful. Why is he grouping you with whatever 'girls like you' he's seen so far? You've been a fan of Soobin for a while now, but you've never encountered any instance of even a mention of him being anything less than courteous and big hearted.

This attitude from him feels like living a fever dream – and not of the good kind.

"So for the last time – I'm not taking any of you groupies into this club because it is not a means to get into the hockey captain's pants! I need serious people who look at announcing and broadcasting with respect and not as something they can use as cover for their ulterior motives. Oh, and if it means anything to you at all, Yeonjun hyung has a girlfriend now. We probably won't even be covering him at all because his fangirls are always a bit too much."

Your head is spinning a little now. 

Did he call you a groupie? Yeonjun's groupie? He thinks you're doing this to get into Yeonjun's… what the hell?

While you're still processing his previous words, Soobin gives a wince. "Look, I'm sorry if all this sounds harsh, but you've left me no choice. Trying to corner me was a really low blow, okay? There's a limit to acting desperate and you're clearly crossing the line, here. If you can't respect me or the club, at least respect yourself."

The pieces have finally fallen in place in your head. You couldn't make sense of it earlier because you didn't really allow yourself to think Soobin would go there. But given his last statement, now you have no doubts.

You don't live under a rock – you really can't afford to when you dream of joining the broadcasting club, of all things – so you obviously know hockey captain Choi Yeonjun and the hype surrounding him. And because you always do your homework well, you also know that he used to be somewhat of a serial dater before he got into a serious relationship with his long time best friend, just last month. All of Yeonjun's fangirls across campus have been disheartened by this development and have been acting desperate ever since.

But why on earth has Soobin pegged you as one of them escapes you. You did not say a word about the hockey team. You didn't get to tell him what your goals actually are. Hell, you didn't even get to tell him your name before he shut you down.

This is a very overwhelming generalization, and you really wanna give Soobin the benefit of the doubt here because going through fifty bullshit applications can be a lot – but he needs to hear you out for you to do that.

"Soobin," you try again, raising both your palms up in an attempt to placate him, "I don't know how you're getting this idea, but I'm not one of – one of Yeonjun's groupies, or whatever, okay? I literally told you I'm in your class."

“Look, I really don’t have time for all these tales,” Soobin interrupts you with a sigh, a huge hand raised up to shut you up – so you do. “You’re dressed… too prettily to be trying out for the broadcasting club, anyways. Is that a cheerleading skirt?”

He's looking down his nose at your miniskirt that you felt very pretty in, annoyance on his face, and now –

Now you're hurt. Now you're hurt beyond giving him the benefit of the doubt. Now you're hurt enough for your eyes to sting with offense.

“Are you trying to pass a judgment on my…clothes?” you ask him in shock, your voice low and a frown creasing your forehead. 

He looks a little uncomfortable as he clears his throat. “I’ve seen the way Yeonjun’s fangirls dress, and you kinda… fit the description.”

He really isn’t giving up on the groupie allegations…

In any other scenario, you would honestly take that as a compliment. Because you have seen these girls as well and their appearance is honestly on another level. But this guy in front of you definitely means it as an insult. And he is still scowling, as if you have dressed up to personally offend him.

You’re at a complete loss now. He hasn’t let you talk, you haven’t even told him your name, and he is acting like knows everything about you. His mind seems fully made up too. 

What are you supposed to do?

"You know what? Maybe I… I should leave through the front door,” he murmurs in your general direction and then moves to step back through the gates he’d emerged from.

You just stay rooted to your place, offended at his dismissal and still in partial disbelief. 

Choi Soobin is nothing like anything you thought he was. 

The smiling, giggling, squinty-eyed guy that you always heard being called kind-hearted, warm, understanding and sweet? Cannot be the same guy you just met. Part of the reason why you like him so much has been the overwhelming amount of praises you have heard about him. 

At times, you found yourself wondering how such an important and busy guy could muster enough patience to be a sweetheart to everyone. Now you know that it’s all a sham – a character he has created to showcase. It’s all pretend. 

This, the version of him you just met, is what the real Choi Soobin is like when no one’s looking. 

Not just your crush, but your idol has broken your heart. 

How are you gonna move on from this?

"Y/N!"

The sudden shout of your name makes you jump in surprise, wide, watery eyes turning to the end of the hallway. Soobin has stopped in his place as well, a frown on his forehead as he attempts to follow your gaze – but he's a little off center from the curved hallway to be able to locate a bubbly looking Yeji excitedly waving at you. 

Oh fuck. Not right now. You don't need your best friend to witness you experiencing the worst moment of your entire life.

But Yeji being the loudass clown she is, doesn't stop speaking at the top of her voice as she marches down the hallway to you. "Where have you been? The janitor says they closed the tryouts? Did you pass? Oh, and a girl told me Choi Soobin was in the judging panel! Did you get to see him?"

Your eyes jump wide, traveling to the said guy involuntarily to witness the way confusion overtakes his face. He isn't moving, though, probably out of intrigue now that he has heard his name, and you're halfway scared to death that Yeji is about to reveal your secret and bathe you in the kind of embarrassment that you will never be able to live down.

"Yeji, I'm just—"

"Babe, why do you look so pale?" she cuts you off, squinting as she nears you, and before you can get another word out, her lips are tilting mischievously and eyebrows are wiggling. "Did Choi find out about your obsessive crush on him? Did he kick you out? Are you hiding from him?"

Yeji is done walking up to you and is now standing with her back to the still open door to the auditorium to look at you with her head tilted and hands braced on her waist. But your gaze is stuck to the person whose face you can easily see over her shoulder.

Soobin's eyes are impossibly wide and mouth is parted to allow his bunny-like front teeth to peek out. There's a subtle flush covering the top of his cheekbones, ears and the bridge of his nose – a sight that would've had you cooing in adoration if you weren’t so distraught, right now.

And then his lips move to form a broken sentence that makes you want to stab Yeji and then yourself: "You… obsessive crush… me?"

To her credit, Yeji seems to recognise the guy's voice and also the context of this ridiculous situation pretty quickly. Her eyes grow wide immediately before a wince overtakes her face as she mouths the word 'sorry' to you, probably mistaking your fallen expressions to be a reaction to the chaos she has caused. Little does she know.

Just as she has stepped aside, Soobin takes a step closer to you, heavy guilt and bewilderment sewn into the lines of his forehead and the twist of his lips. It's so weird that your heart is still skipping a beat when his gaze searches yours. 

It's so unfair. 

You inhale deeply and shake your head, though, steeling yourself against his deceitful innocent eyes. His dimples are just a facade to hide his arrogance. You know better now.

"Not anymore, don't you worry," you tell him with your chin lifted and eyes narrowed.

And damn, you feel so brave for that one. Especially because the words aren't even true. Getting over him will be a hefty task and you have no idea where to even begin, because your life has pretty much revolved around the guy for over a year.

Soobin frowns at that, looking almost hurt, and you want to laugh in his face at the hypocrisy. But you've had enough of him judging you and you're also ninety-eight percent sure you will end up crying if you tried to laugh, so you choose to just grab onto an embarrassed and confused looking Yeji's wrist and tug her with you to the other end of the hallway, exiting into the college's cafeteria.

"Babe, that was—ow!"

Yeji is cut off by you smacking her upside the head. "You're so fucking stupid, Hwang."

"I know… I'm sorry?" 

"Shut up, you’re buying me lunch."

The next day, while you’re supposed to be attending your Media Law class, a mandatory course in your major, you find yourself sitting (read: sulking) in a corner of the library by yourself, staring at the laptop in front of you unseeingly. Your attendance is good enough to save your grades and you can beg Chaewon for notes later in the week. 

But you truly don’t have enough mental strength to face the class’ star student after the shitshow that went down, yesterday.

While Yeji bought you lunch yesterday, you filled her in on everything that happened. Your best friend provided you with a shoulder for your tears, some tissues for your snot and four golden words of advice: never meet your heroes. Because now everything is ruined, and you’re beginning to wonder if picking this major was even worth it when the reason why you did has turned out to be a sham himself.

Your phone suddenly pings with a message, breaking your chain of spiraling thoughts.

11:03 | yeji 💘 dood. guess who i bumped into omw to the chem lab and guess what he asked me for

You blink and then squint at your phone. Why is your best friend trying to be so mysterious? 

↪ wtf ji…? ↪ who asked u for what? ↪ are u okay?

11:05 | yeji 💘 what? yeah i’m okay choi soobin asked for your number

What? 

�� yeji… ↪ tell me u didn’t give it to him

11:06 | yeji 💘 of course not bestie <3 i told him to talk to you in person he’ll be there in a min good luck! 💋💋💋

You hadn’t even fully inhaled your breath of relief at Yeji’s first text when she cut it short with the next one. In person? In a minute? 

Did Yeji tell him where you are?

“Uh, hey… Can we talk?”

She did. Shit.

Even if you don’t lift your gaze from your phone, Soobin’s tall form blocks the incoming light from the window you were seated next to and casts such an obvious shadow on your form that you cannot ignore him without making it weird. So you lick your lips and collect your nerves, preparing yourself to face the guy who single-handedly inspired and then shattered your future plans.

Soobin looks as devastatingly handsome as ever, dressed in a white, collared shirt. His hair is just as black, lips just as red, but there’s an additional pair of thick, black, round-framed glasses sitting on his eyes this time that make your heart beat faster. He just had to look like a runway model in glasses. The universe hates you. Figures.

The expressions on his face scream clear distress and the guilt you saw yesterday. He’s nibbling on his bottom lip, which is a great sign because his bitch ass should be antsy about his audacity of talking to you now when he didn’t wanna listen to you yesterday.

Wow. Maybe that purple haired girl really was onto something, yesterday. Choi Soobin’s derriere is most definitely a rude and a bitch ass.

Looking down at your laptop, you clear your throat and ask him, “What do you wanna talk about?”

You don’t ask him to sit, you do not smile, don’t even wave back in response to his lame ass ‘hey’ – just cut straight to business. You’re proud of the way your voice sounds the right amount of impatient and careless.

“I… I owe you an apology.”

That has you looking at him again. He’s frowning now, looking so conflicted, you almost soften. But then you stop yourself. This is probably not even that heartfelt. He heard about your crush on him and now he pities you. You won’t be a vessel for him to pretend to clear his conscience when he wasn’t even willing to get off his judgemental high horse for you.

“Soobin… don’t.”

He takes the seat opposite yours, ignoring your eyebrows that rise up in shocked outrage. "I have to. Please."

"You really don't—"

"I was horribly out of line, ridiculously ignorant, unprofessional and – and an asshole."

You blink at him in mild surprise. At least he knows; that’s an oddly good start. "You can say that again."

He removes his glasses and rests his elbows on the table, leaning towards you with wide, desperate eyes. "I do not expect you to forgive me, I just need you to – to know that I'm not… I'm not who I was yesterday. That's not – I was under pressure and I felt irritated, insecure and a little jealous? And I said everything I didn't mean. Especially that comment about your dress up! I didn't mean it, I swear! You looked pretty, your skirt was really cute, okay? I – I didn't mean to insult you, I would never stoop to that level."

Your cheeks involuntarily heat up at the compliment he tosses at you so casually. "Why say it when you didn't mean it?" you mumble, attempting to hold your ground and stay mad because he's saying all the right things to weaken your resolve and give him an ear.

He hangs his head as if in shame. "Because I'm a moron. None of the stuff I said was aimed at you. As you said, we hadn't even met before, and… I was frustrated and tired and just drew all these wrong conclusions about you and went off like an idiot. I feel so horrible. I'm so fucking sorry..."

Very slowly, you lean back in your chair and shut your laptop. He really knows how to apologize, damn. 

You were preparing to knock Choi Soobin off the throne you had him sitting on, mentally, and then crush that very throne to pieces because if he could disappoint you like this, you were determined to never look for another role model. You were preparing yourself to leave Choi Soobin and his arrogance in dust and move on with your life.

But now here he is – apologizing like the decent human being you always thought him to be, saying everything you’d never admit you needed to hear.

He’s climbing back upon the throne that took you a whole day to make up your mind to remove him from. 

You’re kinda pathetic, to be honest…

In an attempt to regain some of the dignity your inner monologue has stripped you of, you frown at him. But you are definitely intrigued now because if the kindness and sweetness he shows everyone is a facade, why is he being kind and sweet to you in private?

Could there possibly be… an explanation for his behavior yesterday? He said he was under pressure and frustrated. Although you understand the former, given his position and the auditions yesterday, you don’t really get why he would be frustrated.

When you meet his gaze again, you find Soobin looking at you with those wide eyes of his spilling desperate hope. So you decide to bite.

 "You – you keep saying you were frustrated… Why was that? "

He thumps his head against the table with a groan, making you jump a little in surprise, and then looks up with a determined expression on his face. "I'll begin from the beginning. I owe you that much."

"You really don't owe me any—"

"Please, Y/N."

Oh. Did he say your name? Oh.

Wow, this is why crushes are horrible. Now your heart is thumping wildly and your face feels really hot. Honestly, there should be a system where one can run a background check on an individual before they can be deemed safe enough to be crushed on so that one doesn’t end up embarrassing oneself.

You can only hope your face hasn’t heated up to a noticeable degree.

"I… Since the day I was made President of the Broadcasting Club and was given the duty to conduct interviews for the different sports teams our college has, there’s been this – this recurring pattern. Huge throngs of girls that want to join the club for a chance to interview the hockey team and get close to Captain Choi.” He gives a tired exhale and runs a hand down his face. “I’ve seen it repeat every semester. And this time it got really out of hand because I actually decided to sit in for the tryouts…”

You didn’t even notice when you leaned on your elbows to mirror Soobin’s seating position and focused your eyes on his face, so when he looks up to meet your gaze, your breath catches for a moment. And then you see absolute, sheer tiredness reflected by his brown orbs.

He cannot be this good of an actor, can he be? That would mean that he's really been going through something with this whole insincere signing up for the club thing.

"It was really wrong of me to explode on you the way I did," he continues in a softer voice, looking down at the table next to his palms. "I assumed you were one of the girls that had been giving me a hard time and… didn't even let you say your thing. I'm really, terribly sorry for being a jerk to you."

Your jaw drops a little at the sincerity that spills from his apology. He doesn't sound like he's doing this to clear his conscience or out of pity – he sounds really regretful. He almost sounds like he's in pain, in fact. 

Does he really feel that guilty?

He would only be feeling so bad about this if… everything he has said so far is the truth and he’s actually not the kind of person he painted himself as, yesterday. You can sense the way your previously drawn conclusions begin to dissipate little by little.

"After you left," Soobin begins again, this time with a slight twinkle in his eyes and a tilt to his lips that makes his dimples pop, "I went looking for your application form and read about your interest in announcing. You… you picked your major because of me?"

Your cheeks are definitely on fire now and there’s no way Soobin can’t see that. Why did you put that in your form, you embarrassing imbecile? 

Well. If Soobin has been gusty and virtuous enough to come looking for you and make an attempt to honestly explain himself and apologize, maybe you can be a little honest with him as well.

"You see… the freshman orientation you hosted last year left an impact on me," you reveal, unable to look at him. "And then I saw your sports coverage and realized that I want to be a sports announcer in future."

Soobin says your name, making you look up and meet his soft gaze. "I never thought I would do anything in life that would be worth an inspiration… so this means a lot to me. A lot.” His eyes are shining with sincerity and emotion, and you’re looking into them, spellbound. “I am so sorry I hurt you and I’m ready to try and make it up to you for as long as needed. I don’t really expect you to accept my apology, like I told you, but if you would please give me another chance, I would like to show you who I really am. And maybe initiate you, if you’d like?"

He finishes with a sweet, dimpled smile and maybe that is to be blamed for the way his question bounces right off of you.

"Initiate…me?" You cluelessly blink at him.

"Yeah. Into the club. All the members went through your application and some samples of you emceeing. So it’s not just mine, but everybody’s decision. Insistence, if you will. Request? We – we’d really really like to have you on our team."

Your eyes jump open very wide at that. Join the club of your dreams? He’s finally offering you the spot you thought you’d lost forever? 

Wait, did he say samples? Of you emceeing?  What?

"I’m sorry, what samples?"

A blush tinges his ears. "I contacted your friend Yeji about this, last evening. Please don’t be mad at her, she just wanted to help you. She told me how much this means to you… and then sent me a couple of clips of you managing a stage during a kids’ talent show in your neighborhood. You were really impressive, Y/N."

Holy fucking hell, you're going to scream. 

First at Hwang Yeji for going behind your back and selling you to the enemy, no matter what her motivation might’ve been. And then because your idol just complimented you on something you've learned from him.

"Th–thank you, Soobin." You bite your lip at the stutter in your voice, peering up at him with hesitant eyes. And then you decide to be honest with him again: "Your praise… means a lot to me."

Soobin's eyes sparkle at that, a warm smile pulling at his lips. "And I promise to always remember, respect and honor that. Just one chance?”

You stay like that for the next few moments, looking at him with a soft gaze.

You’ve been polishing your skills to prepare yourself for a spot in this club for a year. If you had gotten the chance to audition normally yesterday, there is no doubt in your mind that you would’ve made the cut. So wouldn’t it be unfair if you give up now?

And then there’s Soobin, of course. It’s going to take you some time to trust him. But if he says he’s willing to work on it, says it with a sincerity in his eyes that gives you goosebumps, you believe it’s worth giving him a chance to correct the misunderstanding he caused yesterday.

You exhale, mind made up, and nod at the guy tentatively. “Promise me you will hear what I have to say before you draw any conclusions?”

He leans closer to you, bringing his face at the same level as yours and nods eagerly. “I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die. Do I take this as a yes to joining the club?”

His eagerness makes you crack a smile, which causes Soobin to scrunch his nose bashfully. You inhale deeply and give him another nod. “Yes, you may.”

Time flies really fast after that day as you attempt to find a stable way of juggling your classes and the club duties. 

The work isn’t as much in bulk as it is in the details. Soobin is, as you’d known beforehand, a meticulous perfectionist. Every single activity the club is involved in has to be fully planned in bullet points and a step-wise-step itinerary, and uploaded to the club’s shared Google Drive, days in advance, or Mr. President begins to lose his calm . You, being the newest addition to the bunch of six experienced members, are mostly tasked with assisting the guy on building this very itinerary.

Not that you mind.

The more time you spend next to him, witnessing him in his element up close and actually getting to peer into the creative wonderland that his mind is, the more you find yourself in awe of him. He has been a role model to you for a reason, after all.

With each passing day, you pat yourself on the back for taking a chance by accepting his apology as you slowly begin to see the real him – the version of him that is absolutely nothing like the asshole you met that day. And little by little, your trust in him begins to grow.

Soobin, to his credit, doesn’t leave a single stone unturned to make you feel welcome into the club. He is incredibly patient and delicate with you – always pausing to check whether you have been keeping up with all the new stuff or if you need any guidance.

You’re beginning to understand that it is in his nature to be kind. The word that got around about him has been correct all along – he really is gentle, understanding and sweet. And if he is going an extra mile for you with the intention of appeasing you because he is apologetic? Well… he’s damn well succeeding. 

The two of you have quickly fallen into a routine where you attend your 10 am Media Law class together, collect the communication majors Karina and Jongho from their block, and then report to Arin—the only senior in the club and known to be an effortless ace—in the broadcasting room. After a short briefing about the previous days’ tasks and a rundown of the fresh day’s checklist, you and Soobin depart to the library to work on it. 

After that you both attend your separate afternoon classes, meet up at the broadcasting room at four in the evening for the college announcements that are alternated between Yunjin and Jongin, sophomores and the final two members of the club, and the lot of you finally take your leave some time around six.

The first week is so exhausting for you that you are barely left with enough strength to feed yourself before you collapse into bed every night, let alone think about your academics. You don’t even text Yeji for three whole days, until she accosts you in the library. 

Soobin texts you, that evening, sharing tips on time management, task management as well as a small list of snacks that he munches on to retain energy. To say your heart nearly beats out of your chest at the gesture would be an understatement. 

The following weeks are full of you being on the receiving end of more such thoughtful acts by Soobin. Getting you coffee – one that is made exactly the way you like it – before the evening meet-up, walking you to your dorm if you don’t have anyone from your building accompanying you, repeatedly checking in to ensure you’re well-rested and not overwhelmed by the sudden change in your routine.

And then there is that one time, some three weeks later, when you're filling in for an absent Yunjin and make a mistake during the announcement – landing yourself at the receiving end of Arin's ire. You feel really bad about your mistake as it is, and so the addition of a reprimand from the senior you've come to look up to has you immensely low.

"She said it was a mistake, noona."

Your head snaps up at Soobin's firm statement. His eyebrows are furrowed and arms are crossed as he looks at Arin. You, along with three other pairs of eyes, gawk at the rare sight of Soobin getting angry, and the rarer sight of him going against the club's queen.

"She's apologized thrice. What more do you expect?"

Arin looks taken aback at the brusque interruption, but doesn't put up a fight against the president. "She needs to practice her pauses, Soobin."

"And she will. I'll make sure she does." He gives a small nod to her before turning his gaze to you. Put in spot, you stare back at him with wide eyes. "I'll stay with her while she practices."

Flashing you a small smile of reassurance, Soobin turns back to the other girl and pats her shoulder to calm her down. And because no one in powerful enough to maintain a frown when Soobin unleashes the power of his dimples upon them, Arin eventually smiles in defeated acceptance and dismisses the meeting.

But your heart never quite manages to dismiss the way this incident makes you feel.

Because Soobin holds true to the promise he made as well – accompanying you to the college's courtyard whenever you're both free and practicing speech with you. To be really honest, he seems to be wanting to spend all his free time with you. You find yourself having to say no to his texts at times because you have plans with Yeji, or are too tired to function.

You'd be lying if you claimed that having so much of his attention on you doesn't make your heart to somersaults in your chest. Which is why you begin to wonder where his extra mile of apologetic appeasement ends. 

The whole apology acceptance thing happened between the two of you awhile ago. He really shouldn't have a reason to continue to dote on you as if he has been hired to take care of you. Last time you checked, you were the one with a gigantic crush on him and not the other way round.

A few explanations pop up in your head, but none of them feel plausible enough for you to even think about. So you do the next best thing – share your dilemma with Yeji on an impromptu girls’ night in, one Saturday.

For a moment, your best friend squints her eyes in the way she does when she’s analyzing some complex situation. And then she shrugs a shoulder, pops a pretzel in her mouth and announces: “Sounds like he’s got a crush.”

You blink, caught so off-guard that you’re stunned into silence. It is only when she looks at you with her eyebrows raised that you manage to cough out a scoff. “What? Don’t be ridiculous.”

This time Yeji’s the one to scoff. “Excuse me? What’s so ridiculous about him liking you?”

“Dude. I…” You vaguely gesture to yourself. “I’m me. And he’s…him. Choi Soobin the Great, the prince, the God, the emcee of the year.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, what’s that supposed to mean? You’re you – the princess, the goddess, the prettiest girl on campus and the best student in our year.” She tosses a pretzel at you, scowling. “You’re amazing, bff. Choi Soobin is one lucky motherfucker to have the privilege to spend so much time with you. Of course he’d fall in love! I’d date you if I was into girls!”

The last part of her sentence makes you giggle. “Stop, no one’s talking about love just yet. Do you really think he could be doing all of that with… I don’t know… the intention to woo me?”

“Of course! He’d be a fool not to!” Yeji sits up from her recline on the couch, nearly aggressively grabbing onto your shoulders to shake you. “Didn’t you hear the part where I told you I would date—hell, Ryujin would date you!”

You gape at your best friend, feeling uplifted, reassured and confused all at once. “Wha—? Does Ryujin like girls?”

“No, but she’d still date you. She’s open minded that way.”

“Yeji, what the f—”

“My point is!” She raises a finger up to silence your protest. “You’re fabulous and amazing and gorgeous – have you seen your eyes? Bff, they’re fucking pretty. Do you know what that makes you? More fucking pretty. He likes you, boo, and he's probably got a list of reasons why.”

Yeji’s love language might be words of affirmation through… aggression, but it is surely effective at reminding you of the fact that you’re lovable.

And so more time goes by, with things staying mostly normal if you don’t count the way your cheeks seem to get extra warmer with every cup of coffee that Soobin hands you, lately. If your locked gazes stay locked for longer than necessary, or if his goodbye hugs linger a little and cause your heart to nearly beat out of your chest – it is no one’s business but your own. 

You know, deep in your heart, that you never really got over the guy. He left you heartbroken for a total of 36 hours, while he's spent more than 36 days swirling up a swarm of butterflies in your tummy with every action of his.

It is inevitable for you to fall for him all over again.

You have absolutely no plans of doing anything about it, however, because you have come to really cherish the close friendship you share with Soobin. You like the wheel of routine the two of you constantly spin within and don't wanna change a thing about it.

Although, that is not to say that no change ends up happening.

The wheel of routine makes a detour around a week later, some five weeks after your initiation into the broadcasting club, when you find yourself wrapped in a jacket and still shivering, sitting next to the university’s star athlete on the bleachers in the hockey arena, at six in the morning.

“Is that all? For real?” Choi Yeonjun asks you with his eyes wide in pleasant surprise. “That was quick.”

While you just nod with a chuckle, his girlfriend peers at you from his other side and punches him in the side. “I’ve told you the important questions don’t take that long! Your fangirls just wanna extend the interviews because they wanna ogle you longer.”

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, I promise,” you tell the girl with a grin, which she returns fully.

“Nah, you don’t even have to tell me because I can see it in your body language,” she mumbles, pressing her cheek into her boyfriend’s shoulder, over which he tips his own head affectionately. “You’re the first ever girl to not view him like a piece of meat. I’m not even kidding.”

“Ah, I’m sorry about that. Your man’s okay, but he’s not my type.”

Yeonjun grins widely at your words, while her girlfriend breaks into laughter because she apparently hasn’t heard anyone use the adjective “okay” for Yeonjun ever before. 

Anyone that tries to get between these two must be crazy, you realize, because you’ve sat with them for less than an hour and can already tell how deeply in love they are. And how stinkingly cute they are together.

Well, the general consensus states that Yeonjun is cute, too. Along with being handsome, beautiful, sexy – and a whole plethora of other adjectives that his fans use for him. But it becomes hard for you to agree with the opinion when your heart, instead, chooses to skip a beat for the dimpled cutie seated two steps away from you, smiling at you from behind his camera.

Right as your eyes meet, Soobin waves a hand at you to let you know he has stopped recording. Nodding, you wave goodbye to the couple next to you and leave the spot to walk up to your cameraman. 

“If I get hypothermia, you’re footing my hospital bills,” you announce as you settle next to a laughing Soobin, intentionally shifting closer to him to hopefully absorb some of his body heat. 

“I told you to bring a jacket, didn’t I?”

“And I did, but it was useless.”

“Because it was denim!” He gives a full belly laugh at that, and the sound is so beautiful to your ears that it becomes hard for you to maintain your scowl of annoyance. “Who brings a denim jacket when asked to carry one?”

“Hey, you texted me at five am!” you whine in complaint. “I could barely open my eyes, my brain wasn’t working!”

“Is that why you didn’t question me?” His tone is a little teasing and so are his raised eyebrows as he smirks at you. “I asked you to come downstairs quickly and you arrived within ten minutes, ready to run away to the mountains with me if I asked. What’s up with that, hm?”

Your cheeks feel on fire at the implication of his words. Clearing your throat, you try to come up with a response, but your heartbeat is too loud in your ears and meeting Soobin’s playful gaze might just make it crash due to the onslaught of overwhelming emotions.

Well. At least you’re feeling a little warmer now.

“You – you said it was a surprise and a huge honor that I’d later thank you for… I got excited,” you mumble, entwining your cold fingers and stuffing your hands beneath your knees to warm them up. “Thanks for thinking of me for this honor but honestly…” You gesture towards Yeonjun with your chin. “I don't really care for athletes. They’re not my type. I prefer brains over brawn. This guy’s taken, anyway, so people should really…”

You trail off when you turn to look at Soobin and find him smiling at you almost knowingly, such unabashed affection in his gaze that your throat closes up with nervousness. 

“I… I – I mean—”

“Yeonjun’s not your type?”

Swallowing past your nerves, you very slowly shake your head. “Is that a surprise?”

He shrugs his shoulders, trying to seem nonchalant, but you see the stiffness that enters his spine at the question. “Yeah, kind of. He’s… well, everyone I know either wants him or wants to be him.”

Wants to be him? Oh… Your lips curve up in a small smile as it begins to make sense to you. “Including you?”

His eyes widen in surprise as he looks at you. “He’s the most popular guy at our uni, Y/N. Who wouldn’t wanna be him?”

You should be surprised by his answer but you somehow aren’t. Because this ties up with a number of things you’ve been unable to fully make sense of about Soobin. Most of all, this explains why it would get him so riled up that people would try to use him and his club – one of the most sacred things he holds in his life – just to get close to Yeonjun. It would also explain why he would have felt insecure and jealous about it.

Emotions such as these are hard to navigate. Within the month that you’ve spent working closely with Soobin, you’ve come to know that he cares about his friends a lot – he truly loves them and would go to extreme lengths to help them whenever and wherever. It pains you that he struggles with this burden on the inside.

You need him to know that he shouldn’t. That he doesn’t need to. 

Which is why you shuffle closer to him, to the point where your thighs brush together, and look into his wide, bunny eyes to tell him that: “When I first saw you, I was fully convinced you were the most popular guy at the uni. And it stayed with me for months until I began my research into uni related facts and opinions and found out about our hockey team. This is why I could never gather enough courage to approach you, you know? You were this tall, handsome and sweet guy – textbook university crush material. How could you not be the most popular?”

Soobin’s cheeks turn pink, then pinker, then bright red, and by the end of your confession, he’s got a trail of redness climbing up to his ears. His eyes stay glued to yours, even as he bites down on his bottom lip.

When you see the way he exhales shakily, you finally release a giggle at his flustered state. “What? Are you really blushing that hard? How're you so cool as an emcee but your cheeks go red when a girl compliments you, Soobin?”

Soobin huffs out a laugh through his nose and rolls his eyes, pursing his lips to bite back his smile. Then he shakes his head. “Not just any girl.” 

This time, you feel a similar blush begin to cover your face. You attempt to joke it away. “I… I’m h–honored, I guess?”

Smirking at your stutters, Soobin simply averts his gaze from yours and goes back to packing up the recording equipment. “Speaking of honors, by the way. This isn't exactly what I was talking about.”

You frown in confusion. “Oh? So what is—wait. Why did you wake me up at five, then?!”

“Woah, easy!” he laughs when you get up and brace your fists on your waist, ready to throw hands. “I brought you here because having your first solo interview with Yeonjun would give you a good boost of publicity for your future with the club.”

“Ow, are we using him for clout?” You scrunch your nose up when Soobin proudly nods.

“Precisely. And also to give you a small rehearsal so that you know what all to focus on when you prepare for the freshman orientation that’s coming up soon.”

You freeze in the middle of a nod.

To prepare you for what? 

Your brain refuses to comprehend the words. He couldn’t possibly be talking about the orientation, right? 

Eyes wide and jaw dropped, you stare at Soobin while he seamlessly continues to speak.

“You're pretty comfortable with the mic and you actually enjoy interacting with groups. I still remember the clips your friend had shown me. Orientation stage requires the ability to interact well and improvise upon the script efficiently, because you’re tasked with making sure these bunch of seventeen year olds feel welcome into their new surroundings. And you, ma’am, happen to be an ace at both the arts.”

Still in disbelief, you sit next to him again and forward a hand to hold onto his forearm, bringing his focus back on you. “Soobin… are you sure? I’ve – I’ve been here for a month, and—”

“And you were amazing even before you joined us.” He turns to you to take both your palms between his, and says your name. A surge of sparks passes through your nerve endings at the warm contact, but Soobin’s gaze grounds you – it’s so open and honest that it compels you to believe every word he says to you. “You’ve only improved with each day, right? You will be great, I’m absolutely sure.”

Nodding slowly, you begin to smile when he does.

Giving your hands a jerk, Soobin points at the couple seated a few feet away. “Just you wait and see, you’re about to go viral when this bit is released. The one girl that remains unaffected by Choi Yeonjun’s charm? Oh, you’re gonna pull so many admirers within a week. Get ready for fanboys crushing on you and sliding into your DMs. Bet they’ll have a fan page up and running before your next public appearance.” 

You break into laughter, craning away from him at his teasing. But Soobin tugs at your hands to pull you back up, this time bringing you closer to him than you were before. The previous traces of playfulness have given way to a small, expectant smile on his face.

"Do I get brownie points for being the first in line?"

What? What? An awkward chuckle leaves you, quickly dwindling when Soobin's smile remains unchanged as he continues to look into your eyes. "What… what are you talking about?"

He tilts his head sweetly, giving your hands a small squeeze as he says your name. "As if I haven't been so obvious… You're the most talented member our group has seen in a while, you know? I can't look away from you when you're working and, like, initially I thought I was being a fan… But then I started to daydream about your bright eyes, gorgeous smiles, your cute giggles, your huge fucking heart that is always so kind to everyone, and…" Soobin pauses with a sigh, cheeks turning red and dimples flashing. "Come on, are you really gonna make me say it?"

Your breath comes in stuttered gasps as you try to gather your thoughts. "Soo–Soobin, I… I… Do you really…?"

"Really like you and really want to go out with you? Yeah, I do.” He smiles at you, bringing your faces close enough to boop your nose with his own. "Is there a problem?"

"You… like me?" You feel terribly confused, somewhat lost, and just a bit scared. If Soobin doesn't mean it with one hundred percent sincerity, you'll never recover from this hurt. So you just try to deflect: "But you barely know me?"

He pulls away with a small scoff of disbelief, eyes widening in surprise. "So it's believable for you to have a crush on me when you'd never even held a conversation with me, but you can't accept that I like you because you're the most beautiful, most intelligent and the most caring person I've ever met in my life?"

Your breath hitches on an exhale – and you're unable to breathe in again for long moments after that. 

He thinks you're beautiful, intelligent and caring.

He likes you.

He actually likes you.

Yeji's words of aggressive affirmative circle in your head: He likes you, boo, and he's probably got a list of reasons why.

She was… actually right? Holy shit…

You're so freaking emotional right now, you might cry.

A cross between a chuckle and a sniffle escapes you despite your attempts of stifling it, catching Soobin by surprise. His hands immediately let go of yours to cup your cheeks in concern.

"Hey, hey, what happened? Please don't think too hard about—"

"Soobin," you cut him off with a whisper. "I like you, too. So, so much."

A slow smile begins to curl his lips up, beautifully. "You do?"

"I have for so long. I… don't think I ever stopped."

"Even with the way I hurt you so bad?" His face becomes somber for a moment. 

"Yes, even then. You've shown me who you really are, Soobin, and that person is amazing. You've proven to me that I caught you in a moment of weakness, and… I think I understand it now more than ever." You smile when his lashes flutter, eyes gazing at you as if in wonder. "Besides, I think I forgave you when you first got me my correct coffee order with that cute smile of yours."

He blushes again. "Ah, so my smile is cute?"

"The cutest." You solemnly nod, cheeks still held in his palms. "Your whole face is."

"Well then, I hope you're okay with my cute face doing this?"

You know what is coming as you watch him erase the space between your mouth and his, and yet you're not nearly prepared for the way your blood turns electric the moment his plush, heart-shaped lips make contact with yours. Pure fire surges through you, body strung tight one moment and then fallen pliant in his hold the next.

Soobin's thumbs brush against the heated flesh of your cheeks, as if attempting to comfort your loud heartbeat – but it's to no avail. Your heart works faster and faster with every push of his mouth against yours, so full of giddiness that it eventually seems to levitaties up and above your body, leaving you weightless and breathless.

You try to kiss him back to the best of your abilities, but you feel like you've been entranced – held in a dreamlike state that has rendered you completely immobile and turned your brain to goo.

Soobin seems to recognise your condition, somehow, pulling away from the kiss with a chuckle brushed against your slightly parted lips. Lidded eyes look into yours with a smile held in them, his chocolate irises turned to thin rings due to how dilated his pupils are. 

"You good?"

His voice comes out all hoarse and breathless, making your stomach clench with desire and you're instantly spurred into motion.

Reaching out with both your hands, you grip onto the back of Soobin's neck and the side of his jaw, and this time pull him in for a proper kiss with equal participation. His breath hitches for a moment, but is released in the form of a small grunt when you open your mouth against his – and that is all you need to absolutely lose yourself into the taste and feel of Choi Soobin.

You would've probably stayed lost for quite a bit too, had a loud whistle not echoed around the arena, making both you and Soobin jump apart with startled gasps. Wide eyed, you look at each other, and then two stairs above you.

Yeonjun's girlfriend is grinning at you with her entire teeth on display, while the guy himself has his arm extended towards the two of you, thumb pointed downwards.

"Her first interview isn't even out yet, dude!" he calls out, booing Soobin with his entire arm. "Literally obliterating her popularity before she could even gather bitches, you're so lame and insecure, Soob, boo hoooo!"

Soobin tosses a random plastic case towards the guy, whining into your ear as he rests his chin on your shoulder grumpily. You giggle at his pout, entwining your hands together to bring them up and press a soft kiss to the back of his.

"Are we going on that date before or after the interview is aired, then?" you tease the guy, wiggling your eyebrows.

Soobin glares at you through playfully narrowed eyes beneath lowered eyebrows, until you're giggling again and he's kissing your smile. "Definitely before."

© yeonboy 2023 // do not steal, copy or repost. respect your local content creators, kaythanks.

[sleep-drunk-kitten]

𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

pairing: enhypen x fem!reader, platonic!Sunoo, ft. Lee Felix and Han Jisung of Stray Kids and Choi Soobin of TXT as side characters

genre: crack, fluff, isekai!au, royalty!au

content warnings: the crown prince is a bit of a jerk, war and an absent father are mentioned in passing, other than that there's nothing I can really think of? but lmk if I missed anything!

word count: 3.9k

summary: upon meeting her betrothed and possible murderer for the first time... our protagonist finds herself sure of two things: 1) he's every bit the princely male lead of the novel she'd loved so much in her previous life and 2) he's actually a little insufferable.

notes: It's finally hereeeee!! I'm so sorry for making you all wait for this, but I'm slowly working my way out of that writing slump~ I'm not sure whether or not I like how this turned out, but I hope you guys can just overlook it and move on if it sucks 😭 (please, for my sake, do. I will literally cry if my anxiety's proven right rn-)

I will be making a taglist for this fic, so if you're interested in being added please either drop an ask or let me know in the comments

Everything after the cut IS proofread for once, but please feel free to let me know if any typos slipped through the cracks!

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“Nonono, the blue one was a million times better,” Sunoo said, pointedly ignoring the deathly glares of Felix, your head maid.

  “Maybe it would be if I were going out for an evening ball or something, but it's a bit much for seeing a guest over some tea,” you reply dismissively, inspecting the girl standing in the three large mirrors placed round the circular platform you’d been standing on for the past hour, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another as your maids brought dress after dress out from your closet and whisked you through trying them on one by one. 

  Sunoo rolled his eyes at the statement, marching towards your vanity and sifting through the jewelry scattered across it till he settled on a length of thin silk ribbons. “Babes, be real with me here, it's not just some tea party and you know it.”

  The three maids who'd been helping you into the layers of lace and silk that made up the soft buttercup yellow gown Felix had chosen stepped to the side to give Sunoo room on the platform behind you, having learned very early on that there was little to no point in trying to stop him. 

  Ribbon in hand, he began weaving the silky material through the hairstyle they'd arranged as neatly and prettily as possible, ignoring a pained noise from the one nearest him. “I mean, it's not every day your fiance comes all the way out to your family’s manor on the outskirts of the city to make sure the bride-to-be he doesn’t actually care about hasn't lost all her marbles.” 

  You didn’t understand how Sunoo managed to carry on chattering with their eyes boring holes into the back of his head, especially when their dirty looks were nothing compared to the expression on Felix’s face–his twitching left eye reminded you of a glitching video game character–but he did, carrying on as if it were just the two of you in the room.

  “Your Grace,” Felix’s voice was strained, “I really do wish you wouldn't say such things to her Highness.”

  “What? That her beloved fiance's come to see her?” Sunoo said, batting his eyes and pouting in mock innocence.

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Felix snapped back, eyes darting between his face and the silk in his hands. 

  “You know she doesn’t really care, right? Why would she care about that cold-hearted stone-faced bas-”

  “Sunoo!” you gasped, cutting him off by stomping on one of his fluffy house slippers with the toe of the wildly uncomfortable heel that had been forced onto your foot. You swear you see the corner of Felix’s lip twitch at the strangled noise your best friend makes. 

  “Ow ?! That was uncalled for- what’s with the look? Is anything I’m saying wrong?”

  “No, but you still shouldn’t be talking that way about a member of the royal family,” you reply with irritation, “you not liking him doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s the fucking prince now does it?”

  In your peripheral, the three maids shift uncomfortably, and Felix doesn’t even try to hide a long-suffering sigh, making a mental note to inform your tutor that your etiquette lessons still weren’t sticking the way they should. 

  Sunoo sees this, of course–grinning evilly at you. “It would seem that it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a princess either, Your Highness, better wash out that potty mouth of yours before your dearly betrothed arrives.”

  You nearly grab a handful of your skirts to give yourself enough mobility to kick him, but Felix launches himself in your direction before you have the chance, shoving Sunoo rather unceremoniously to one side and holding your wrists under the guise of guiding you off the platform. 

  “An excellent idea Your Grace, but I fear we have neither the time nor the soap for such an endeavor as m’lady’s presence is needed in the garden.”

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  It really was a scene straight from one of your romance manhwas; a neatly laid tea table under a pearly white gazebo, your gloved hand wrapped delicately round the gilded handle of a steaming cup of tea–the picture of perfection in your soft yellow dress that matched the white and yellow roses blooming in the bushes surrounding you perfectly. 

They filled the cool morning breeze with their sweet perfume, sending ripples across the clear blue lake so it glittered in the morning sun.

  It was beautiful.

  So beautiful. 

  And yet it still didn’t quite compare to the man sitting accross from you. 

  You’d read his description countless times. Everything from the plush curve of his lips to the sharp intensity held in his dark eyes… yet nothing could have prepared your heart for the sound of his laughter, carried to you over the foliage, the sight of those lips spread in an easy smile as he chatted with your brother, shoulders shaking with mirth.

  Nor, you think, could anything have braced you for the chill that would run down your spine when his smile dropped the second Soobin said his goodbyes, worriedly whispering a plea for you to ‘behave yourself’ as he kissed your cheek and left the two of you alone. Your chest constricting almost painfully when those same dark eyes that you’d squealed and giggled over late at night fixed on you, void of any emotion. 

  He'd stood from his place at the table to greet you, bowing formally in reply to the curtsy your poor tutor had drilled into your bones. 

  “(y/n).”

  “Your highness.”

  “You look to be in good health.”

  “I am, the family doctor and my handmaids have tended to me with so much care since the incident, recovering well is the very least I could do.”

  An awkward pause.

  “You seem to be in good health too, Your Highness.”

  You could’ve kicked yourself when the prince simply nodded and thanked you in return–a flash of something like recognition passing behind his eyes–before they went back to that easy, indifferent facade you supposed was crafted especially for Princess (y/n). ‘which makes sense,’ you mentally deadpan, ‘she was about as close to a crazy yandere psycho as you could get without actually killing anyone.’ 

  Still, those simple pleasantries, taken straight from the pages of volume two of your etiquette lessons, were the only words exchanged in greeting.

  It made even the silvery morning breeze feel stifling.

  Ever the gentleman, the prince pulled out your chair, made sure you were comfortable, and nodded once to your guard. “All is well with the knights of the (l/n) estate, Han?”

  The effort it took to refrain from snapping your head up and giving them both a confused once-over was monumental. It hadn't occurred to you that the crown prince would be familiar with any of your personal guards, though you supposed it made sense. Most of them had, according to Felix, been looking after you since you were only nine or ten, of course they'd be on friendly terms with your fiance.

  “We've been keeping busy, Your Highness,” Han said, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. Knowing him, he was probably rocking back and forth on his heels, hands clasped behind his back. 

  “That's good to hear,” the prince nodded, settling into the seat across from you, “I fear the royal knights have grown rather complacent since the relief and revelry that followed the war, it has been a task for General Jeong to whip them back into shape.” 

  “I can imagine,” Han chuckled. “But really, who could blame them, it’s taken us a long time to reach this peace, what good would it be if we didn’t take at least a moment here or there to enjoy it? As it is, I doubt we would have stayed so diligent if it weren’t for Her Grace, (y/n)’s been coming down to the training grounds and asking us to teach her some basic swordsmanship of late.” 

  While Han was probably puffing up his chest and beaming proudly over at the prince, thrilled to share the good news that you were finally taking your swordsmanship and safety more seriously, you were trying to avoid choking on air. 

  There were many things that you didn’t know about Princess (y/n) (l/n)–daughter of an esteemed archmage and revered general–but one of the things that had been emphasised enough in the novel enough for it to stick firmly in your mind was this: she was a frivolous, selfish, bitter disappointment to her bloodline. Squandering the skills she’d inherited from her mother to brew potions that only served her own selfish needs, and refusing to entertain the possibility that she could possibly take after the father she loathed for abandoning her to fight in the war . 

  She would never willingly break a sweat. 

  Especially for the sake of swinging around a big heavy old sword. 

  And it seemed the prince was thinking the same thing, his next words directed at you. “I didn’t know you’d developed an interest in adopting such strenuous hobbies.”

  “I… I suppose almost dying will do that to you.”

  “Indeed…” 

  There was a brief pause, in which the prince looked like he was contemplating the milky way while stirring a cube of sugar into his tea. Setting your nerves on edge as you wondered if now was a good time to bring up wanting to end your engagement, or if you should try and “ease into the subject more naturally” as your tutor had told you with his head in his hands, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of his eyes after witnessing just how “abrupt” your manner of speaking was.  

  You were still turning the words over in your mind when his voice cut through your thoughts, crisp and clipped despite the concern you guessed the inquiry was meant to show. “I was told that you were caught in a storm.” 

  “I was,” you nod with a bit too much enthusiasm, relieved to finally have an excuse to fill the silence. “I was told that I was on my way back from visiting a cousin who happened to be staying in town when a sudden storm hit us and knocked my carriage into a ravine-”

  “You were ‘told’ that you were on your way back from visiting a cousin? That fact doesn’t come from your own memory?”

  You blink, caught off guard by his interruption. ‘Isn’t that rude? Is he allowed to be rude because he’s a prince or because he’s my fiance? But wait he shouldn’t be rude either way? Ah screw it, being mad won’t help my case anyway so…’ 

  “Yes, I believe His Grace mentioned in his letter to the palace that the event and the fever that followed seems to have caused a condition the doctors refer to as temporary amnesia, my memories are only there in bits and pieces.”

  “Is this memory loss permanent?” 

  “No, we suspect I’ll start remembering things  little by little, a few are already coming back to me,” you say, one hand gripping the material of your skirt in an attempt to keep your voice pleasant and calm.

Sure, the prince didn’t like the princess much, but that didn’t mean he had to be a prick about it, he could afford to be nicer when he was asking questions about her literally forgetting her entire identity. If you didn’t know how awful she’d be a few years down the road, you would’ve found him insufferable. 

  “I see…” he said, still slowly stirring his tea.

  “What exactly do you see, Your Highness,” you smile a little tersely, bringing your own cup up to your lips, praying that the lipstick your maids had chosen was transfer-proof. 

  The prince raised an eyebrow at you, apparently picking up on the shift in your tone.  “Nothing… I’m simply intrigued by your sudden change in character, and the rather dramatic event that you claim caused it.” 

  It takes you a moment to process his words, and a moment more for agitation to prickle under your skin. ‘The fudge muffin does he mean claim?? I fell off a hill??? Hannie carried me back??? I was out of my mind for a week???’

  Reminding yourself over and over again that in his mind he was talking to someone who definitely wasn’t you, you press your lips into one of the polite, plastic smiles Sunoo had been practicing with you. “I apologise for not hitting my head on something less dramatic… I’ll be sure to aim for the carriage windows instead of massive tree branches if it would be more convenient for you… Your Highness.” 

  “What would have been more convenient for me, and all parties involved, would be your learning to heed warnings, and refrain from traipsing off into town when you know that the sky bodes ill,” he replied smoothly, ignoring the agitation in your voice. 

  “I’ll do my best to remember that then, Your Highness,” you say through gritted teeth, taking a fortifying sip of your rich floral tea, immediately wondering how the prince could possibly drink something so naturally sweet with even more sugar. 

  Your answer seemed to surprise him, another flash of… something crossing his features before it vanished just as quickly as the one before. 

  “Very well,” he nodded, bringing the sugary concoction he’d like to call tea to his lips, distracting you slightly with the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he drank. 

  ‘Oh he hates my guts but dear mother of cheesy romance he’s definitely this world’s male lead…’ you mused, shaking your head slightly to get yourself back on track. You were annoyed. Very annoyed. And the source of that annoyance was speaking to you again. 

  “I came here today to confirm for myself that you have indeed recovered fully, now that I’ve made sure of that there really is no reason for me to linger longer than necessary,” he said, setting down his cup with such practiced ease that it barely made a sound.

  Alarm buzzed under your skin, causing you set your own cup down with much less grace than intended, a sharp clinking noise ringing through the empty gardens. “I- oh shoot- Your Highness there’s actually something I need to discuss with you before-”

  “If it concerns the steadily growing pile of invitations and inquiries piling up on your writing desk we needn’t bother with any discussion,”  he said, cutting you off without missing a beat, already signalling to the guards–who’d moved away at some point to offer you both more privacy–indicating that he intended to stand and leave. "As long as you stick to the promise you just made to listen to your guards and His Grace, you’re allowed to attend and host as many gatherings as your heart desires, just know that I will not be able to accept any invitations, I am a busy man-”

  “Your Highness,” you all but snapped, lips pursed into a thin line, as if sealing them together would stop the flurry of expletives in your mouth from rolling off your tongue.

  “(y/n),” he said mildly, raising an eyebrow.

  “That is not what I wanted to discuss, but while we’re here, why the hell would I need your permission to attend any kind of gathering?”

  The prince blinked blankly, holding up a hand to signal both his and your guards to wait. “What are you on about (y/n)? You’re my fiance.”

  “Yes, exactly, fiance, and by arrangement, not by choice.”

  “I can’t say I follow your meaning, both these things are well established.”

  You swore your eyes nearly popped out of your skull with the effort it took not to roll them. “If I were your wife, or your partner by choice I would, to a certain degree, understand if you wanted me to give you a heads up before I go out-”

  “A head?...”

  “But I’m not, and at this rate I’m really not sure I want to be, I’m an individual totally separate from you, these are my decisions to make, you have no right to dictate my comings and goings… Your Highness.”

  The Prince went silent, watching you steadily, his calm an aggravating contrast to the tense knot of anger and anxiety lodged in your throat. ‘Oh… oh… I’m so sorry Mr. Park…’ you whisper a silent apology in your head and offer a few prayers for your tutor and the vein in his forehead’s good health.

  “What exactly do you mean by ‘at this rate I’m really not sure I want to be’, Princess.”

  The chill that runs down your spine when he uses your title instead of your name is immediate, your hands going slightly numb in the silken confines of your gloves.

“I mean that… that I don’t want to marry a complete stranger,” you manage, fumbling through whatever you could salvage from the script you and Sunoo had prepared. 

  “Is that what you'd call someone you’ve known since childhood?” he scoffed, the annoyance creasing his brows the most feeling he’d shown in response to you since his arrival. 

  “Well from the way you’ve spoken to me till now I can’t exactly consider you a friend now can I?” you seethe, regretting it almost instantly when his expression twists into something almost like hurt. You’re not sure why he made that face, but in a moment it’s gone, and no matter how it made you feel, you have a goal here. Not. Dying. 

  Which probably meant that pissing off the crown prince wasn’t the best idea. But oh well. 

  “I have no memory of you, Your Highness, as far as my mind is concerned, today is our first meeting… and from what I can see, the boy who’s meant to be my future husband sees me as either an object or a nuisance… I was hoping that meeting you would ease my mind about this whole engagement thing, but I’m sure now. I don’t want this.”

  The prince stared at you for a few moments, expression unreadable, and you guess that–aside from what you hope looks like defience and resolve–you look much the same. 

  When the world finally clicks back into motion, he nods once. “You do know that dissolving this agreement between our families is not something to be taken lightly? While our parents cannot force us into marriage, they will still try to convince us of our obligations.” 

  He looked up then, and something in his expression was different. It was still indifferent and unreadable as it had been, but there was a softness to it that you couldn’t quite place. It was confusing. “I understand, I know it won’t be easy, but this is my wish,” you say, relaxing slightly in your own seat. 

  “If that is what you want… I will speak to my father once things have settled down within the palace… I jest about the knights and their complacency, but the air is less than still, war is a messy business, and cleaning up the aftermath will take some time.”

  “I can wait… till next spring, but you must have asked him by then.”

  “I will,” he nods, “and I’ll write to you once it is done so you may speak with His Grace as well.”

  “Thank you… it’s appreciated…”

  You stay like that for a beat longer, staring at each other from across an intricately laid tea table, each of you wondering what the other must be thinking.

  “If that is all… I shall take my leave,” he says, breaking the odd trance. Standing, waves your guards over, and you take that as your cue to stand and curtsy as well. 

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Your Highness, the (l/n) family thanks you for your time.” 

  “Likewise,” he says, bowing. 

  Han and two other knights make their way over, wearing slightly troubled expressions, you guess they must’ve heard more than they were meant to. But it doesn’t matter, you think, eventually the news of the broken engagement would be the talk of the town, you shouldn’t be embarrassed about a few knights getting a preview. 

  “Before I go,” the prince says, “you should know that you never needed my permission for anything, (y/n). You may come and go as you please, you are an individual capable of thought and making her own decisions, as you say. However you must understand that to the public eye, you are the future crown princess, and that is not something to be taken lightly. It is my duty to do what I can to protect the royal family’s image, and having my fiance attend tea parties and balls when she is not in her right mind would have been foolish, to say the least.”

  He’s being earnest, you realise. Apologising in his own roundabout way. Maybe. Whatever it is, you choose to take it, knowing that beneath whatever dislike he may hold for the former princess, Park Jongseong was a good person. 

  “I… I’ll remember that in future…” you murmur.

  “Good… and one last thing.”

  “By all means.”

  “I know now that you have no memory of me, but you should know that you’ve never called me by my title.”

  “Oh?” to your memory, the princess had never called him anything but his title, he wouldn’t allow it. “Did I… call you by your given name?” 

  For the first time, he smiles at you, and you curse your heart for the way it flutters in your chest. “No, I don’t expect you to use it if it brings you discomfort, but the nickname you gave me when we were six was ‘Jay’, because you said I resembled a bird by the same name.”

  “A Blue jay?”

  “Yes, my hair was lighter then.”

  That confuses you slightly, his hair is black, as far as you can tell, but you ignore it, choosing to smile politely and nod along. “It must have been a very handsome bird.”

  “It was rather ugly, actually,” he says, walking down the gazebo steps to join his guards. “I bid you farewell, Princess, the royal family thanks you for your time.”

  “Likewise,” you respond, watching him as he goes. Noting with a hint of amusement that his hair shines blue in the now bright morning sun. 

  “What was all that about?” a voice says, and, predictably, Sunoo appears from one of the side paths. 

  “Were you listening the whole time?” 

  “Well I tried, but the fountain was too loud, only caught some yelling.”

  “Some guard you are,” you whine, smacking Han on the arm as he joins the two of you, “did you even realise a sneaky little rat was eavesdropping? 

  “Ow! For your information I did, but I figured there was no point chasing him round the gardens when I knew you’d be inviting that rat to tea anyways.”

  “That is very true,” you sigh, grabbing a plate and settling yourself across from Sunoo–who already had a mint chocolate chip cookie stuffed in his mouth. 

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  “(y/n)! Forget soap we’re gonna need bleach for that mouth tonight,” Sunoo cries, doubled over in a fit of giggles.

  “I knowwww,” you groan, massaging your temples. “Mr. Park’s gonna kill me.”

  Sunoo shakes his head. “You make the poor guy sound like an old man, you do realise he’s only our senior by about two years, right?”

  “He’s still my tutor! I’m trying to show some respect, as a thank you for how patient he is with my dumb ass.”

  “He deserves a raise,” Han chips in, settled on the marble gazebo rails with a plate of cheesecake in hand. 

  “He doessss,” Sunoo agrees, waving a teaspoon for emphasis.

  “You’re all really mean y’know,” you sigh, slumping over the table and grabbing one of Sunoo’s hands and moving it into the shape of a rabbit.

  “Not as mean as Sunghoon’s about to be when he sees your posture,” Sunoo says. 

  “What do you mea- Oh! Good morning Professor Park!”

[theyluvangel]

Biggest Subs in the Groups I Stan - enha, skz, SVT, bts, shinEE, nct, atz, txt, p1h

This is literally which member(s) of these groups I think would be the most submissive in bed!

warnings: probably grammatical and spelling errors, femdom themes, female reader

MDNI

Enhypen:

Sunoo:

biggest pillow prince there is

he just wants you to take over and do with him as you please

he's sensitive so you have to be gentle with him :(

loves praise

loves taking anything up his ass - that being your strap, fingers, a vibrator, or anything else you can think of

Jungwon:

some people disagree, but have y'all seen this man???

he wants you to take complete control over him - tell him what to do and he'll do it

he can be really bratty, but he's usually your good boy

likes some light pet play, nothing too extreme

please finger this man, he adores how close he feels to you when you finger his ass

if he's had a particularly rough day, or if he's just in the mood, he'll let you rough him up a bit - hit him, degrade him, ect.

Stray Kids:

Han:

he's a mommy's boy

lets you do anything you want to him

super loud, he has no shame

loves a bit of pain

horny all the damn time, its up to you to figure out how you want to deal with that

definitely has a bratty side, but he tries can be good

so cuddly

Felix:

the sunshine twins - two big bottoms

he's just so soft and fluffy if you know what I mean

he cry's usually from pleasure all the time, when he gets so overwhelmed he can't not cry

not at all afraid to try new things

slap him around a bit, jerk him off in public, sometimes he just wants to feel like a toy to you

but also please be nice to him, sometimes he also just needs to have some nice lazy cuddle sex

Seventeen:

Mingyu:

"wdym this over 6 foot tall extremely buff man is a big sub?" well let me tell you

he is there to do whatever makes you happy, and he can't do that if you're not telling him what to do

sososo whiny

loves being overstimulated

again i'll bring up the clip of woozi saying Mingyu likes to be degraded and embarrassed by his members

Tie.Him.Up

loves when you degrade him, but also gets so cute and shy when you praise him

loves seeing the marks you leave on him

I'm not going to specifically write out the rest but I think Dino, Seokmin, Seungkwan, Jun, and Hoshi are all switches that would love to be submissive under you

BTS:

Jimin:

jimin gives of switch with a sub-lean vibes

he's a mommy's boy as well

can be really bratty but he can also be really good

loves restraints, impact play, really anything that will leave a mark

loves trying new things

he's just a really kinky guy

also super loud

could suck a titty all day

ShinEE:

Taemin:

anyone who has heard his music knows how submissive he is

he has a lovely song called "Criminal", where one of the lyrics is "destroy me more"

this man is a performer, the energy he presents on stage he'll present to you in the bedroom

loves pain play - hit him, scratch him, bite him, literally beat him and he will thank you for it afterwards

loves when you're able to bring him to tears

big masochist, exhabitionist, and voyuer

NCT:

theres several bottoms in this group so the formatting is gonna be a bit different

NCT 127:

Taeyong - mommy's boy

Haechan - brat

Jungwoo - tries to be good

NCT Dream:

Renjun - pillow prince

Jaemin - golden retriever

WayV:

Ten - brat + hella kinky

winwin - good boy, so soft for you

Xiaojun, Hendery, and Yangyang are all switches in my mind

Ateez:

Wooyoung:

holy shit, this man is the brattiest being to ever walk the planet

he loves riling you up so you'll be rough with him

at this point he's just about admitted to having a degrading kink

he's literally such a bratty whore

he NEEDS you to punish him

sometimes he can be good and he'll want you to be gentle with him, but that's rare

literally imagine bending him over your knee and spanking him for being a brat all day (I'm feral for this man)

+ I think both San and Mingi are switches that can be super submissive

TXT:

Soobin:

i think he's naturally a shy+nerdy guy, so he's attracted to people that can take control over him

a bit more of a switch lean

i think he'd really be into having you humiliate him, but he also loves praise

I think he's a bit of a perv, he'd steal your underwear and jerk off into your panties

Beomgyu:

he might be just as bratty as Wooyoung

is always a brat, its hard to get a moment of peace

super kinky and always in to trying new things

He likes to feel so weak underneath you, if you can make him cry and get his legs shaking - you've officially made him want to marry you

he knows he's a brat, so he needs someone to tame him

he'll take anything you give him, even if that means not letting him cum for a week

omg he'd look so pretty with tears running down his face, hair stuck to his forehead, all whilst you edge him until he loses touch with reality

Kai:

he's such a good boy

i feel like he's kinda inexperienced so he'd naturally fall into a more submissive position

he's really vanilla, all he wants is to cum and be praised

if you're mean to him in the slightest he might cry

he doesn't mind edging and overstimulation, but its a rarer for those to occur

+ I think Yeonjun and Taehyun are both switches, but they aren't the most submissive in the group

P1harmony:

(honestly everyone in p1h gives off some sort of subby vibes)

Intak:

he's so puppy coded

he's there to serve and please you

he loves when you praise him and call him your "good puppy"

he will act out occasionally, but he feels bad afterwards and always accepts his punishment

he'll absolutely do anything you want him to

Theo:

he seems to me like a bratty pillow prince

he will talk back

enjoys a healthy amount of both praise and degradation

he kinda acts like a princess in the sense that if he gets too dirty or sweaty, he'll complain until you clean him up

lets out the most beautiful moans

bondage is a must for him

writing this took me a lil bit but I hope you all enjoy! if you couldn't tell I prefer to write from a dom!reader perspective, but I'll write both dom and sub reader. please send me requests because the writers block is crazy rn!

[ithinkabouttzu]

Txt Reaction to sleeping with you for the first time (18+)

Genre: sexual romance; fluff & smut

Warnings: SMUT, sex, hard dom, dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it for you tap it folks)

Description: Txt members reaction to sleeping with you for the first time

Pairing : Gn x txt

Yeonjun

- he’s so passionate for you

- He would make sure to take his time around your whole body, kissing you, leaving small hickeys everywhere, he wants you to feel how much he loves you

- “Look what you did to me baby” AHHH

- He would be so soft at first, and slowly become more rough, not a bad rough though, just very passionate

- It would be very hard to control himself, he would have to remind himself not to cum to soon, like he was already close when he first put it in LOL

- but you would just be too good, he would praise you endlessly and treat you like straight royalty, “You’re making me feel so good baby”

- he would make SURE you finish before him, and after he would get you some water and lots of cuddles, maybe even put on a movie and remind you how much he loves you

Soobin

- He would be SHYYY at first, so he would let you take initiative first, then he would take control

- Consent is very important to him, so he would ask multiple times if something is okay, or if you like what he’s doing

- Kisses all over 100%

- He’s such a soft dom, even though he’s on top he’d still be a moaning mess from you

- He’s very soft and intimate, he feels so much closer to you while he’s inside you

- When both of you are close, he would definitely like to keep eye contact until both of you finish, just seeing all of the passion in your eyes makes him so weak

- He definitely says “I love you” when he finishes, and even after he will remind you how much he loves you and that he’s only here to please you (aftercare KING fr)

Beomgyu

- He’s a such a tease “if you want it baby you gotta tell me”

- He would kiss you and tease you until you are literally begging him to fuck you

- It would be so hard for him to keep his composure, he just wants to fuck you dumb but he knows it’s your guys’ first time so he holds it back

- He would slam into you at first, making you scream in pleasure “That’s what I like to hear baby”

- He’s such a dirty talker, “You like that baby?” “You like my cock inside of you?”

- He would pull out when you’re close just to hear you beg, “How bad do you want it baby? Tell me”

- But after though he would be so soft and sweet to you, He would ask you if you’re okay and if he made you uncomfortable at anytime, “I love you so much princess/prince”

Taehyun

- he’s naturally a giver, he would please you in and out with the best foreplay ever

- imagine him at the end of the bed, just dragging you by your legs to the end of the bed before putting his mouth to work on you

- “Can I? Please” Before he pushes his dick inside of you

- He LOVESSS when you say his name, especially when he’s close, he will literally cum on sight if you moan out his name

- Hes also very intimate and passionate, but he’s such a softy too, he would remind you how much he loves you and how good you’re making him feel the whole time

- He’s such a slut for eye contact, like just staring into you eyes and seeing you fall apart around him makes him so weak

- After he would kiss your forehead and hold you tight, (Aftercare KING pt.2) He would praise you endlessly on how good you made him felt and how much he loves you

Huening Kai

- He’s so nervous

- He just wants to make you feel good, even if it takes away from him

- Honestly I think you would be on top at first, just because he was so nervous and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable

- Every once in a while, he would buck his hips so deep into you uncontrollably because it feel so good

- “I’m sorry baby, I just couldn’t help it, you feel so good”

- Both of you would finish pretty quickly, he would finish a little bit before you, and he would be getting so loud before he finished, screaming out your name over and over like a mantra

- After he would be so soft, “I love you so much angel” He would hold you I think you guys would fall asleep shortly afterwards

[mggsv]

PRINCE !

choi soobin x black!f reader || (18+) || reblogs would be appreciated!

somewhat like Bridgerton if that helps !

warnings: semi-public fucking, prince!soobin, tears, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

“Have you seen him? He looks like he’s never even felt the touch of a woman!” Came a voice from afar. A group of young ladies gathered like others in the ball room.

A chuckle in your ear

“He’s a beautiful one- the prince- no matter how…much he talks about random things. I mean really, who cares about the flowers outside? He sat there for ages telling me about the soil and whatnot!”

“There wasn’t a thought behind her eyes.”

“My mother wants him to court me, I’m doing my best. I’d make a great queen! The prince looks lost most of the time anyways..if I play my cards right, I could get him to fall in love with me.”

“That’s impossible.”

Idiots. All of them. None of them really knew the prince because they had one goal in mind: to be courted by the prince.

Another group of ladies talked differently about him. Calling him intelligent, some who actually took time to know him. Though, it still did not matter, because they wanted him all the same.

“Do you hear that..” breath fanning against your face. Your eyes blurry, barely focused on the sight in front of you. A chuckle from behind you, chin resting on your shoulder. “Can you hear that nonsense they speak of?”

“Y..es…” You gasp, eyes shutting briefly before opening again to the sight. You could hear everything. “They don’t know what they’re talking about. They all want me in some way that i can’t see myself being in. It’s difficult..being a prince-“ He shudders, “-so much to do, so many people to talk too. Yeonjun hyung said that it’s not as bad as being a knight, did you know that they have to train-

“Soobin.” You suck in a breath, hand curling into his. His movements stopping, cock twitching inside of you. “Are you really going to talk about that..now of all times?”

“No- ..no, of course not.” He blushes, lips brushing your bare shoulders. His thumb rubs over your swollen nipple, where his mouth sucked on just moments before. You felt sensitive everywhere, his touch like fire. It wasn’t everyday just anyone was with the prince like this..having sex without being married- the Prince, of all people. “Shit..” he whines.

The thought made your pussy throb, his cock twitching in response. He fucked you in a private hall used mostly by servants to enter and exit rooms. They weren’t known to anyone outside of those intended to use it, and boy..did he use them.

In public, you were another girl to court. Not just any girl, though. You were special, to Soobin that is. When he first laid eyes on you last season his breath had been taken away in an instant. Your dark curly hair, brown eyes. Your curves in the fitting light dress you sported, jewelry placed beautifully, everything about you was perfect. He wanted you. He was a nervous thing though, only watching you from afar..by the time he talked to you, the season was over. But that didn’t stop him from being first of everything for you, and vise versa.

“Feel so good..” He groans into your ear, tugging at your nipple while he fucked you from behind. And no one suspected a thing, no one hearing your small whimpers and whines while being fucked by the future king. His other hand held your dress, rolled up at your hips. Loud smacking sounds from your bodies connecting. “so good..”

His mouth fell open, head tilting back. Your hips rolling, his thrusts getting harder. Now, there were questions as to where the Prince was. It was strange for the man who looked lost all the time to actually be lost.

“S-Soobin…” You whine, feeling that familiar warmth in your stomach. Your cunt throbbed around his length, thrusts sloppier and so much harder. He was close. “Fuck!” Your fingers reach back for him, hand on his stomach- anything to steady yourself.

“What will they say when they find out about this hm? F..Fucking in the secret passages. They don’t even know i’m courting you this season cause i’m too busy being inside of you to show them-“ He groans lowly, your legs shaking. Gushing slick trailed down your thighs. A smack to your ass sent you back to reality. Courting-

“m’gonna cum!” you squeal, his hand covering your mouth as a low groan slipped from his. Together you both stilled your movements. Biting his lip to hold back his moans while his hand covered yours. That didn’t stop your teary eyes from overflowing. Pleasure shooting through your body, feeling his seed fill you.

By the time you both return to the dance floor, everyone knew the Prince chose you. The moment he grabs your hand, his flustered smile. While you danced together…by the time Soobin asked you for your hand, the seed was already planted inside of you. You said yes, of course, Princess.

[biteyoubiteme]

📚🤖🦈

link to questions

📚-is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

so many! I love hyping up writers omg!

first bc I cannot get it out of my head is switch to me by @chyuuiung one of my fav fav favs (beomkai)

an iron man by @niningtori !!! (Beomgyu)

escapism by @prince-jjae (yeonjun)

these two fics by @seungfl0wer one for felix one for chan

obsessed with these fics by @beomiracles one for kai one for soobin (darker content in soobin link)

and @thetxtdevil s yeonjun fic i’m so excited for all the others in this series you have no idea

anything by @bandgie @miupow @hyukalyptus Ive read everything they’ve ever written and you should do the same

🤖- are non-fandom friends aware that you write fanfic?

only one person irl knows about this account and my writing! my long distance bestie i’ve know for nearly a decade who I trust so deeply 🤍

🦈- which character is the toughest to write?

I answered this for txt here but for skz i’ll say han and felix ! I wanna write them both as soft lover boys who are just pussy drunk and obsessed with reader always and although i’m sure I could do that no problem I worry it might get repetitive with how much I wanna write it lol so coming up with new things for myself to write for them might be hard lol

[tomorrowxtogether]

TXT on Maturing, Packing for the Act: PromiseTour, and Skin Care Essentials

Snapshot! is a Teen Vogue style series where we ask artists to take candid pics and share a glimpse of their style and beauty routines. In this installment, K-pop boy group TXT takes Teen Vogue behind the scenes at the New York stop of their Act: Promise tour.

When the members of Tomorrow X Together (TXT) aren’t attending Fashion Week — whether on the runway or in the front row — they’re jet-setting on tour. However, it's an equally chic occasion — and their latest tour, Act: Promise, is proof of that.

Across the United States tour dates, the concerts’ carefully crafted stages encapsulated the K-pop group’s five-year journey in just a few hours for fans, known as MOA, to experience together. The styling plays a major role in doing so, from their grand entrance with “Deja Vu” to their low-key looks for the youthful anthem “Cat & Dog.”

While the members — Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai — make it look seamless on stage, touring isn’t an easy feat. Preparations for concerts may start months before in Seoul with fittings and dress rehearsals but continue until the very last outfit change backstage and even when the members are doing skin care after the show. To learn about it all and soak up the backstage buzz, Teen Vogue caught up with TXT before their sold-out show at Madison Square Garden in New York City on June 1, 2024.

Back in 2019, TXT was first introduced to the world with bright colors, playful patterns, and skinny jeans with their “Crown” music video. Now, the group is known to have a more elevated style with nods to punk and grunge aesthetics. “Because it's been some years since we debuted, I think I would describe it as a journey of growing and being mature, so we definitely see maturing changes in our aesthetics,” Taehyun tells Teen Vogue via an interpreter.

“I wouldn't say it was a radical change, but it was more like a gradual change and gradual being mature and growing. I would say after our second LP, our style definitely got a little more mature than before,” he adds, referring to their album The Chaos Chapter:Freeze, which features the hit single “0X1=Lovesong (I Know I Love You).”

On this tour, the setlist visits each of the group’s chapters, but rather than in chronological order, the arrangement and coordinating outfits explore a motif. “Each show has five sections, and each section has a distinctive theme,” Hueningkai explains. “Our look and our outfits also changed according to the theme.”

For their grand entrance, the group emerges on the stage clad in lace cloaks while wearing white trousers and gray blazers, accentuated by harnesses and chain links, combining their princely charms and pop punk sounds. Within the same section, the members make a quick outfit change to pay homage to their South Korean culture. “We have the song ‘Sugar Rush Ride’ rearranged with Korean traditional instruments, and we also dress in Korean traditional costumes,” Hueningkai says, referring to the hanbok.

The next section, marked by the hit songs “Magic” and “Trust Fund Baby,” showcases the members' more casual side. They are clad in relaxed-fit jeans and designer graphic tee shirts. Whereas they typically wear baby blue varsity jackets with bedazzled wings for this part of the show, for that weekend, the group wore New York Rangers gear, a nod to Madison Square Garden’s home team.

As the group splits up for their unit stages, the youngest members, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai, shed the jackets and rock out to “Quarter Life” in simple ‘fits. Meanwhile, the eldest, Soobin and Yeonjun, change into belted black and white tank tops, respectively, for their performance of “The Killa.” Promptly after the duet and before “Back For More,” they put on sparkly black jackets and rejoin the youngest members who are already wearing the same. Taehyun favors this part of the show for its versatility. “When the light gets dark, we can change the [jacket] really quick, so it gives more variations to the outfit,” he confesses.

As Taehyun notes, the members switch into a more grunge look shortly after. “We wear leather jackets for the third section where we perform ‘Puma.’ Because I think the leather jackets go very well with us all and it just gives off a really hip vibe, I like that one,” Beomgyu says.

The last look of the night comes with the encore, a time the group utilizes to engage and make more memories with MOAs. Their choice of clothing highlights this. Swapping their more extravagant costuming for more casual, fun looks, the group wears hoodies and T-shirts from their merch collection for the tour with classic blue jeans and a simple accessory or two. This look is Hueningkai’s favorite as the comfy, casual nature suits him.

When asked to describe his personal style, “hoodie and jeans” is Hueningkai’s response. His style prioritizes practicality, just like Taehyun, who adds, “I would say I like various styles, but I would say I would choose comfort over fashion.” Fitting for the early June climate in NYC, he explains, “For example, I don't wear long sleeves in hot weather.”

“Like Taehyun said earlier, I like a variety of stuff, but recently, I refer to the street fashion in the UK or Japan,” Yeonjun says. His off-stage looks this tour have consisted of chunky sneakers, layers, and baggy silhouettes for an effortless yet cool look. “I definitely refer to his style. I sometimes try to follow his style,” Hueningkai says in admiration of the eldest.

Soobin and Beomgyu lean towards a more preppy side. Both seem to have their wardrobe essentials figured out. “I like clean-cut style,” Beomgyu says. “Recently, I've been purchasing a lot of wide-leg pants.” Soobin adds, “I also like neat and clean-cut style, so most of my items are button-up shirts.”

Having a practical sense of style does have its benefits on tour. At this point, it seems like the TXT members are pros at the art of packing to be on the road for prolonged periods of time. “It doesn't take that long to pack because we're constantly on a tour,” Beomgyu says. “Sometimes I just leave my luggage packed and just add a little more items to them. For example, a few tops, a few bottoms, a few shoes. But I make sure that I do have my personal makeup tools or makeup items, like cleansers. For those things, I make sure that I do have my own stuff.”

For Hueningkai, it takes a little bit of research. “When I pack for a tour, I definitely make sure that I check the weather because you want your clothes to fit the weather there,” he explains. “For example, if you're traveling to a city where the temperature is high, you make sure you have short sleeves and really light materials.”

Yeonjun’s technique is classic for a fashion lover. “I overpack because I like clothes,” he says. “But I also make sure that there is a little bit of room, considering that you're going to shop when you go to a new city.”

The TXT members are equally sensible when it comes to picking essentials for their carry-on bags. Hueningkai, like many other K-pop idols, notes the importance of comfortable shoes when off the stage and says slippers are his must-have.

Soobin and Taehyun’s travel essentials allow them to have some fun when they can while traveling. Soobin selects a tablet, particularly one loaded with dramas. (On this tour, he chose to watch Queen of Tears.)

Staying active seems to be on the mind for Taehyun. “For me, it's a bathing suit because you stay in hotels when you're on a tour, and sometimes you find really nice swimming pools there,” he says. Similarly, his form of self-care on tour is exercise, so he says he carries a resistance band so he can work out anywhere, even in the hotel.

As for skin care, the group stresses mastering the important basics. “I've recently started to practice this, but I make sure that I wear sunscreen before going out,” Taehyun says. “So that’s my beauty tip.” Also, taking the late spring weather into account, Hueningkai adds.“For me, it's to keep hydrated, so drink a lot of water.”

While the hype and excitement of a concert may culminate before the show, it’s the youngest of the group, Hueningkai, who reminds us that a post-show routine is just as worthwhile for both artists and fans alike. “It's important to really remove your makeup thoroughly,” he says. “So I use cleansing oil — all those makeup remover items. And make sure that you moisturize your skin after that.”