#ateez yeosang x female reader

[minkieater]

when another member walks in on you ateez ot8 x fem!reader

silly little thing i wrote between clients today

smut below the cut! mdni ↓ dom/sub dynamics, exhibitionism, oral sex, p in v lol, lmk if i missed anything !!

hongjoong ☄️

“shut up slut, they’ll hear you. i bet you want that, don’t you?” he had your face buried in your mattress, drool slipping from your mouth, your ass up in the air where he was relentlessly drilling  into you. 

you moaned, you had stopped caring about your volume long ago, they would hear hongjoong’s thrusts before your moans anyhow. you clenched around him, only making him hiss out and reach over to push your head impossibly farther into the mattress. 

you pissed him off— you got a little too close to wooyoung, talked for a little too long and hongjoong was livid. 

“you want him to hear you, don’t you? want him to hear all the pretty sounds you make? showing off, huh? attention whore,” his words were venom, his lips inches from your ear with how he bent over you, foot planted on the mattress beside your shoulder. 

“are you guys oka— oh shit, i’m so sorry,” hongjoong lets go of your head only for the two of you to snap your faces up to the intruder, hongjoong stilling inside of you.

“what the fuck?” was all hongjoong could get out, a stunned wooyoung in the doorway, his jaw on the floor at the sight in front of him. “wooyoung! get out!” 

“it didn’t sound like you were fucking! i got scared,” you heard wooyoung yell as he closed the door behind him, leaving hongjoong to pick right back up where he left off. 

“don’t think i missed how you clenched around me, whore.”

seonghwa 🫧

seonghwa had you on your knees while he sat on the bed, leaned back on one arm with the other around your ponytail, guiding you up and down his length. 

in a black tank top and gray sweatpants he looked so fucking sexy in the living room, you couldn’t help but pull him into his bedroom for a minute alone — you needed to taste him, show him how much he affected you. 

“fuck, you’re so good at that,” his words were quiet, a low rasp to his voice as he tugged on your hair a little harder. your mouth slipped off of him with a pop, batting your eyelashes up at him with a knowingly coy smile.

he groaned, a little louder this time, his head falling back. “don’t look at me like that or your throat’s getting fucked.” 

you giggled, mouth attaching to him again, bobbing your head up and down a little faster now. he bucked his hips up little by little, using more force with each stroke and you took him proudly, small gags and noises of nasty wetness leaving your lips.

the door opened without either of you noticing, only catching a head of brown hair leaving seonghwa’s bedroom with a shriek of surprise. this wasn’t the first time yeosang had walked in on you, but it still made you laugh every damn time.

you looked up to seonghwa with a giggle on your lips after popping off him again, seonghwa wearing a smile himself.

“how many times do you think we’ll scar him before he stops coming in here?” seonghwa asks, letting go of your ponytail.

“if he was going to catch on, he would’ve by now,” you readjusted yourself on your knees during the pause, shaking your head before bringing your focus back on his delicious length before you. “you said something about fucking my throat right?”

yunho 🧍🏻‍♂️

you and yunho had been waiting for a day alone for weeks. for too long had you been silenced in the hours from one to three, his fingers clamped over your lips or stuffed between them in an attempt to keep you quiet. comeback season was busy, and when there was time off everyone lazed around the dorms and didn’t fucking leave. 

now, on your third consecutive day off, the dorms were empty and yunho took advantage. he had your hands pinned under your back with a belt he had just taken off, hips snapping into you so hard the sound was sure to be heard outside. 

“sloppy little cunt sucking me right the fuck in,” he hissed, hips cracking into your thighs, his fingers keeping you still.

you were wailing at this point, tears streaming down your face, begging for reprieve while also thinking if he stopped you’d die. 

“don’t stop,” you repeated, a mantra on your tongue, from your hips being slanted upward his cock was hitting that spongy spot in your walls that drove you fucking insane. 

you were so close, mere thrusts away from hitting your peak, and the door busted open, an out of breath mingi stood at the door.

“the rest of the guys are walking in right behind me,” mingi’s words were panicked in a warning, but yunho didn’t stop. he ignored his friend, knowing you were so close, wanting your high to crash over you so he could follow. 

you screamed — mingi couldn’t move. yunho fucked you through it, thrusts only quickening to meet his own end, until he doubled on top of you with two large hands landing right beside your head. 

yunho turned to look at mingi, a smirk playing on his lips with heaving breaths, “enjoyed the show?” 

yeosang 👥

everyday yeosang woke you up the same way: his fingers or his head between your thighs until you were creaming around him, then he replaced it with his cock. it wasn’t a good morning until you had at least one, if not two orgasms. 

this morning he was greedy— it seemed he didn’t want to let you go. you came on his face once, his fingers a second time, and he was working you up to a third on his lap. if yeosang could do anything it was last, his stamina was like no other, he could go for hours if you let him. 

you had your knees planted on the mattress beside his hips, his cock hitting your cervix continuously as you grind your hips back and forth against him, your nails clawing at his shoulders. his head was leaning against the headboard, leaving his throat open to you, where you licked and sucked pretty little bruises across the base of his neck, little whines leaving his throat.

“yes, baby, ‘m so close,” he croaked out, his voice raspy and deep, his abs clenching with every grind of your hips. 

“cum for me then yeo, fill me up,” your hand moved from his shoulder to wrap your fingers around his neck, pulling him towards you to connect your chest to his.

your mornings weren’t usually so filthy, never downright nasty, bringing your skin to touch his brought a sense of intimacy back to your morning. 

his head fell onto your shoulder with a groan, filling you up just as you told him to, thighs twitching beneath you. you moaned at the feeling, letting your head rest atop his, bringing your hands to tangle in his hair. 

“you guys awake yet?” seonghwa popped into your room, making you twist your body around to look at him, eyes wide.

“definitely awake,” he pulled his lips into a line, bidding you a singular nod before closing the door again. a huff of amusement left your lips as you looked back down to the boy laying on your shoulder, patting his head, giving him a moment to come back before you’d take your morning shower together.

san 🚪

san couldn’t wait. you were at your favorite club, both tipsy and horny, dancing to the beat of the song before san’s fingers dipped below your dress. you looked up to him with wide eyes, met with a filthy smirk and a pair of dimples that ushered you towards the men’s bathroom. 

“san, anyone could walk in,” you were uneasy, san was never so impatient that he needed you then and there. he’d never portrayed signs of exhibitionism before today, your sex life had always been private — you liked it that way, yet the hunger in his eyes and the spark left in the wake of his fingers on your skin made you excited. 

“let them see how good i fuck you then,” he hummed, fingers flipping up your dress, plunging into your core that was so wet he slipped in. the squelch of his fingers was deafening, you thanked god the bathroom was empty. 

he stuffed you into a stall, fingers still curling into you before he slipped your panties to the side, replacing his fingers with his cock. the pace he set was brutal, your hands bracing the wall above the toilet as he fucked into you from behind, hips slapping into your ass. 

you fought to keep your moans inside, pointless as the sound of skin slapping would overpower them anyway. san groaned, “knew you’d be wet, naughty girl. you were basically begging me to fuck you on the dance floor for everyone to see.” 

a whine escaped you, nails clawing against the tile of the wall. he slipped a hand around your hips, coming between your legs, rubbing your clit at a pace he knew would have you coming in seconds 

“fuck, san, harder please,” you breathed out, head dipping below your arms, hanging between them. 

he listened, quickening his pace, fucking you somehow harder than he was before. his fingers worked in a quick rhythm, making the pit in your stomach grow until you were overflowing on his dick.

“yeah, that’s it, baby. cum all over my cock,” he was drunk off your pussy, words slurring together, keeping his pace on your clit to ride you through it. 

when you were twitching from overstimulation he emptied himself inside you, head falling to the center of your spine. there was nothing but the sound of heavy breaths in the public restroom, you and san catching your breath and your sanity before he flipped your dress back down and zippered himself back up.

when you left the stall, jongho was washing his hands at the sink, barely giving you a glance as you stepped into view. 

“how long have you been in here?” san asked, a pink rising to his cheeks, looking like a completely different person than he had moments ago.

“unfortunately, long enough. broke the seal so i had no choice,” jongho shrugs as he grabs paper towels, drying off his palms. “make sure you two wash your hands.” 

mingi 🫶

the say my name stage always fucked you up, it never failed. being on stage period always fucked mingi up, that never failed either. it was safe to say that your post-show routine was always fucking backstage, it happened every stop, every show, you lost count of how many dressing rooms in foreign countries you’ve been fucked within an inch of your life in.

what was abnormal was mingi not waiting until the show was over. always professional, mingi waited until everyone was no longer sprinting around backstage with mini-fans and makeup brushes to touch up the eight boys before they had to head back out onstage. 

as he came off the stage, his walk was fast paced, precise. it would’ve scared you if you didn’t know what it meant. his fingers hooked around your arm, dragged you further backstage, and had you in a random closet in a stadium completely foreign to you. 

he was quick to split you open, granted say my name was within their first set so you were already dripping by the time he made it between your legs. 

“always so ready for me,” he mumbled out, zeroed in on your center but eyes still not fully clear. in his post performance haze he was always rougher, selfish, not a care in the world for you. it was your favorite. 

“put it in,” you barked out, hips bucking toward him and he was sheathed within seconds. giving you no time to get used to the stretch you wheezed, head lolling onto his shoulder, and he let loose. 

he fucked you stupid, you joined him in whatever haze his brain was under as he pounded into you, hips clapping into the silence of the dark storage room. you heard footsteps outside but mingi made no moves to halt his thrusts, only focused on one thing, getting the two of you off before he had to go back onstage. 

“are you fucking?” yunho’s voice wasn’t clear until he had the door open, light cascading into the storage room, yours and mingi’s necks snapping to look at the intruder.

he was smirking — he knew what he was walking into yet he did it anyway. you and mingi both smiled cheshire grins as yunho stepped inside the storage room, quickly slamming the door shut behind him. 

“why didn’t you invite me?”

wooyoung 🐈‍⬛

wooyoung had you splayed out on the bed, legs bent up with his head between them. eating you out was adjacent to your meditation time, as he calls it, it's his favorite way to wind down. after a long day, after a short day, during his day, it didn’t matter when. wooyoung was always down to eat you out, eager even — he is a man not above begging. 

your chin was shot back, eyes screwed tight, wooyoung had made you cum on his tongue twice so far and he was nowhere near finished. 

after eating you through your second orgasm his licks had slowed down, easing up his pressure, making his tongue soft and pliable instead of hard and pointed. 

soft moans left your lips, he knew by now how to work you through overstimulation, lazily licking at your clit until your moans turned to whines once more.

“taste so fucking good, could eat this pussy all night,” his eyes were fully closed, he was in a dream. between your legs was his happy place, he’d die there a happy man, he’d admitted it more than once. more than ten times, at least. 

when he noticed your breaths getting shorter and your moans shifting to a higher pitch he was sharp with his movements, picking up his pace, licking up your folds and sucking on your clit with swollen lips. 

hongjoong bounced through the door, “hey wooyo, you- jesus fucking christ!” 

your legs snapped shut, closing over wooyoung’s head and he pried himself out of your cage with painted fingertips, jumping up to face hongjoong at the door.

“what?” wooyoung asked, palm swiping at his chin.

“i’m scarred,” hongjoong muttered, voice horrified with hands covering his eyes. your hands fled for the blankets, pulling them over your body with a speed you weren’t expecting to have to use. 

“what do you want, joong?” wooyoung asked, rushed yet still casual, sitting on his knees. his abdomen was clenched, muscles on display as he twisted backward, you didn’t even care that hongjoong was in the room. 

“i was going to ask if you had a spare pair of headphones,” his voice was barely above a squeak, hands still covering his eyes.

“oh, yeah i do, here, they’re my sony 1000MX—”

“i don’t give a fuck wooyoung, give them to me so i can leave.”

jongho 🧸

you were hanging out with jongho in the dance practice room as he practiced the same routine again, the fifth time tonight.

he groaned in frustration after missing a step again, the same step he’s missed the past four times he’s gone through the routine. his hands cover his face, dragging down his cheeks.

you get up from your spot on the floor, making your way in front of him, grabbing his hands to hold in yours.

“why don’t you stop for the night?” you tilt your head, nothing but warmth in your eyes as you stare into his, cold and irritated. 

“i need to get this fucking right,” his lips are pursed, his eyebrows are knit together as he barks, “i need to clear my head.” 

within minutes he had you on your hands and knees atop the hardwood floor, bodies facing the mirror that spread across the wall, forcing you to watch yourself as he fucked you stupid. 

“see that?” he smirked at you through the mirror, fingers tight on your hips, “nothing but a cocksleeve whenever i want it, so willing for me.” 

his words were cool and calm, almost a threat on his lips as he abused your core. your eyebrows were tangled and your mouth hung open, knees and palms burning from the pressure against the harsh wood. 

“yes, just for you,” you manage to choke out between thrusts, body jolting forward with each thrust. 

“that’s right baby,” he nods, his smile turning villainous, only fucking into you harder as he spits, “such a fucking whore, letting me fuck you in public like this.” 

you nod, eyes screwed shut, “d-don’t fucking stop.” 

his chuckle is deep, his thrusts losing their rhythm, “you want it? want me to fill this filthy pussy up?” 

the door to the practice room opens, san strolls inside with a smile on his face before he sees the two of you — he shrieked. “what the fuck!?” 

jongho stilled, laying himself atop your body, trying to cover you as best he could. his words come out nervous, “get the fuck out!”

san slips back out of the door, then peeks his head back in, “wait, when are you gonna be done? i want to practice.” 

“san!” 

masterlist

[kairoot]

SEND HAND PICS ? ──── 에이티즈

ׂ ִ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬．𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗇，𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲． — 𝐩. 𝖺𝗍𝗓 𝗑 𝑓．𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 — 𝐠. 𝑡𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑎𝑢，𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝，𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑘 — 𝐰. 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒，𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌，𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌．

✉️ ──── 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖻 @wonsdoll 💋 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 + 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 !

• • •

[arilevenatz]

Royally Bound

Pairing: Prince!Seonghwa x reader

Genre: Arranged marriage au, fluff (omg so much of it)

Word count: 10k

Warnings: none :)

AN: Get ready to be bombarded with the most gentleman of gentleman Seonghwa. Omg he is so sweet to mc. I wrote this solely because I had a thought of ONE scene from this and I wrote an entire fic based on it. And don't forget to like and reblog pls it motivates me to write more!!!

In the heart of the flourishing kingdom of Eryndor stood a grand castle, its towering spires reaching toward the heavens as if to touch the very stars. Within its walls resided the royal family: King Park, a wise and benevolent ruler; Queen Park, a graceful and compassionate woman; and their only son, Crown Prince Park Seonghwa.

Prince Seonghwa was the embodiment of strength and discipline. His cold, straightforward demeanor had earned him a reputation as a strict and unyielding leader. While some whispered of his severity, the majority of Eryndor’s people revered him. For though his words were sharp and his judgments firm, his actions always spoke of his deep love for the kingdom.

Each morning, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the castle windows, Seonghwa would rise, his mind already set on the day’s duties. From overseeing military drills to attending council meetings, his meticulous nature allowed no room for error. He walked the castle halls with a commanding presence, his dark eyes scanning every corner, every detail, ensuring that everything was in its rightful place.

Despite his stern exterior, Seonghwa’s heart was one of quiet devotion. He spent hours in the castle library studying the histories of past kings and queens, seeking wisdom to guide his future rule. He visited the kingdom's towns and villages, speaking to the people not with flowery words but with a genuine desire to understand their struggles.

Even in the grand halls of the castle, where the kingdom’s most influential figures gathered for meetings and important events, Crown Prince Seonghwa was a figure of quiet authority. Draped in royal attire that reflected his status, he sat at the long, ornate table, his posture impeccable, his expression unreadable.

Unlike many who sought to fill the air with their voices, Seonghwa remained silent, his sharp eyes observing every gesture, every word exchanged. He spoke only when addressed directly, and even then, his responses were concise and precise, like arrows hitting their mark.

At times, his silence unnerved those around him. Ministers and advisors would glance at him nervously, uncertain of what he might be thinking. Yet, when he did speak, his words carried such weight and clarity that they often silenced the entire room.

During a particularly heated council meeting, where arguments about the kingdom’s trade policies had reached a crescendo, Seonghwa had remained still, his gaze shifting between the quarreling parties. Finally, when the king himself turned to him for his opinion, Seonghwa’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

“Trade benefits the kingdom only when it is fair and sustainable,” he stated coldly. “If you cannot negotiate terms that protect Eryndor’s interests while maintaining alliances, then perhaps someone more capable should handle the matter.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words pressing down on everyone present. Though his tone was devoid of anger, his bluntness left no room for misinterpretation. The advisors exchanged uneasy glances, while the king nodded, a faint smile of approval gracing his lips.

At royal banquets and celebrations, Seonghwa’s presence was equally commanding, even though he rarely indulged in pleasantries. While others mingled and exchanged smiles, he stood by the sidelines, his watchful eyes scanning the room for anything amiss. When addressed, he responded with the same measured calm, his words carrying a sense of purpose that few could match.

The people of Eryndor often whispered about his reserved nature, some calling it aloofness, others seeing it as strength. But whether feared or admired, there was no denying that Crown Prince Park Seonghwa was a man of unwavering discipline and control, a leader who valued action over words and results over empty promises.

The grand dining hall of the castle was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, its high ceilings adorned with intricate carvings of Eryndor’s storied history. The royal family dined in silence, the clinking of silverware the only sound until Queen Park, with her ever-graceful demeanor, broke the silence.

“Seonghwa,” she began, her voice gentle but firm, “your father and I have been discussing a matter of great importance.”

The Crown Prince, seated at the head of the table, set his goblet down with practiced precision. His dark eyes lifted to meet hers, his expression as composed as ever. “Pray, speak your mind, Mother.”

The queen exchanged a brief glance with the king before continuing. “It is time, my son, for you to consider a union. The kingdom requires a future queen, someone to stand by your side and share the burdens of rule.”

Seonghwa leaned back in his chair, his posture unyielding as his gaze shifted between his parents. “Is that so?” His tone was measured, devoid of enthusiasm. “I was under the impression that my duties as Crown Prince were quite sufficient without the added endeavor of courtship.”

King Park sighed, his deep voice resonating through the room. “It is not merely about duty, Seonghwa. A union strengthens alliances, fortifies the kingdom’s position, and, dare I say, may bring you some measure of solace in the years to come.”

“Solace,” Seonghwa repeated, a faint trace of irony in his voice. “How poetic. Yet I see no such necessity. The kingdom flourishes, the council obeys, and the people prosper. What more is required?”

Queen Park’s serene expression faltered ever so slightly. “A ruler cannot stand alone forever. You may not see the need now, but in time, you will.”

For days thereafter, the subject lingered like an unwelcome guest, the queen and king broaching the topic at every opportunity. Seonghwa, however, remained steadfast in his reluctance, deflecting their attempts with a mastery born of his disciplined nature.

But even the most resolute walls crumble under relentless tides. On the morning of the seventh day, Seonghwa finally relented, though his disinterest was plain for all to see.

“Very well,” he said, his voice as cold as the winter wind. “If it shall grant me relief from your incessant nagging, I shall meet this woman you have selected. But let it be known, I do this not out of desire, but out of obligation.”

Queen Park’s face lit up with a hopeful smile, though she knew better than to voice her triumph aloud. “You shall not regret it, my son. We have known the Hwang household for a while now.”

Seonghwa rose from his chair, his movements deliberate and measured. “We shall see, Mother,” he replied, his tone carrying the faintest edge of skepticism. “Though I pray you do not expect me to feign interest where there is none.”

With that, he left the room, his long cloak trailing behind him, the echo of his boots fading into the distance. The queen sighed, her heart a mixture of relief and concern. For while her son had agreed, his heart remained as untouchable as ever.

The Hwang household was one of great renown in the kingdom, its name carrying a legacy of loyalty and service to the royal family. Your grandfather, Hwang Taejin, had been the closest confidant of King Park when he ascended the throne, forging a bond that still tied the two families together.

As the youngest daughter, you were the quiet shadow amidst your lively siblings. Your eldest sister, Hwang Seoyoon, was the pride of the family—a graceful woman of charm and poise, admired by many. Your brothers, Hwang Jinhyuk, Hwang Minseok, and Hwang Daehyun, were no less impressive: boisterous, ambitious, and ever eager to showcase the family’s brilliance to the world.

And then there was you.

While Seoyoon spent hours selecting gowns and jewels, and your brothers busied themselves with their social engagements, you preferred the solace of your room or the quiet corners of the garden. Your straightforward nature often set you apart; you had no patience for flowery words or pointless chatter. When spoken to, you answered with blunt honesty, a trait that earned you both admiration and exasperation in equal measure.

“Honestly, you’re hopeless,” Seoyoon often sighed, fussing over her reflection in a gilded mirror. “How can you expect to make a good match if you refuse to step outside?”

“Who says I expect to make a match at all?” you would reply, your tone calm but unyielding.

Jinhyuk, the eldest of your brothers, was no less persistent. “You’re the youngest. People expect you to be lively and charming, not... whatever this is.” He gestured vaguely in your direction.

“Then people are fools for expecting anything at all,” you would counter, much to his chagrin.

Minseok and Daehyun, the middle brothers, often tried to coax you out of the house with promises of excitement. “Come, little sister,” Minseok would say, his grin infectious. “There’s a festival in the town square. You’ll love it!”

“No,” you replied curtly, not even glancing up from your book.

“Just once,” Daehyun chimed in, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re wasting your youth locked away in here.”

“Better to waste it in peace than to squander it in nonsense,” you retorted.

Your parents, while loving, were equally puzzled by your reluctance to engage in the vibrant social life your family cherished. “You are a Hwang,” your mother reminded you one evening. “With that name comes responsibility. You cannot hide away forever.”

But you didn’t see it as hiding. To you, the world beyond your home was a noisy, chaotic place, and you found no joy in it. The garden, the library, the quiet evenings by the fire—these were your treasures, and you saw no reason to trade them for the fleeting pleasures your siblings pursued.

Unbeknownst to you, however, your life was about to be entangled with the royal family in a way you could never have anticipated.

The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow through the windows of your room as you sat in your favorite corner, a thick book resting in your lap. The quiet rustle of pages was soothing, a rare moment of peace in a household that was anything but.

Your eldest sister, Seoyoon, had made herself comfortable on the chaise near the window. She was in the midst of a long-winded tale about the latest fashions in court, her voice animated and full of excitement. You, however, barely glanced up, too engrossed in the intricate story unfolding in your book.

“And then Lady Eunhwa had the audacity to wear the same gown twice in one week!” Seoyoon exclaimed, placing a dramatic hand on her chest. When you failed to respond, she huffed, her voice turning teasing. “Are you even listening? Or is that book more interesting than my tales?”

“Far more interesting,” you replied bluntly, not looking up.

She clicked her tongue in exasperation but continued regardless. “Oh, by the way, two of the king’s guards came by today.”

At that, your eyes flickered up from the page, though only briefly. It wasn’t unusual for members of the royal household to visit. After all, the king favored your father greatly, treating him almost like a younger brother. The king, slightly younger than your late grandfather, had become close to your family over the years, especially as your father had grown into a trusted confidant.

“It’s hardly news, unnie,” you said, turning a page. “The king’s guards have been here countless times before.”

“Yes, but they don’t usually come with such a formal air,” she replied, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I overheard Father speaking with them. It seems they were delivering a message about... well, something rather important.”

You raised an eyebrow, finally giving her your full attention. “Important how?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to spoil the mystery,” she said coyly, though you could tell she was itching to share. “But I will say this—it has something to do with Prince Seonghwa.”

At the mention of the Crown Prince, you frowned. “Why would anything involving him concern us?”

Seoyoon leaned closer, lowering her voice as if she were sharing a secret. “The relationships are a bit tangled, don’t you think? The king was close to Grandfather, but he had Prince Seonghwa later in life. Meanwhile, Father had us all when he was still quite young. It makes the royal family feel less like distant rulers and more like... well, extended relatives.”

“Relatives who happen to rule the kingdom,” you muttered, shutting your book with a quiet thud. “What exactly are you trying to say, unnie?”

She smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. “I’m saying, little sister, that perhaps this visit wasn’t as routine as it seemed. Perhaps you should start paying more attention to the world outside your books. You never know what might be coming your way.”

You stared at her for a moment, trying to decipher her meaning. But when she simply rose from her seat with a graceful shrug and left the room, you couldn’t help but feel a nagging sense of unease. Whatever the king’s guards had come for, you had a sinking feeling it would disrupt the quiet life you so fiercely cherished.

When Crown Prince Seonghwa learned of the arrangements his parents had made, he stood in the vast study of the royal palace, his arms crossed behind his back as he gazed out of the towering windows. The distant sound of the bustling kingdom below barely registered in his mind.

“So, it is the youngest daughter of the Hwang household,” he said aloud, his tone carefully neutral, though there was a faint trace of hesitation in his voice.

Queen Park, seated gracefully by the hearth, nodded with a small smile. “Indeed. Youngest of Hwang. A quiet young lady, from what I have gathered. She is much unlike her siblings, preferring solitude to society. A curious match, I admit, but one worth considering.”

Seonghwa turned to face his mother, his expression calm but his thoughts clearly at war. “The connections between our families are... unusual, to put it plainly,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “Her grandfather, as you know, he and Father shared a bond that went beyond mere loyalty. But then there’s her father—he’s younger than father, yet he married and had children before he did. My father married late and had me even later. That’s a strange difference in timing and position, don’t you think?”

He sighed, pacing slowly as he spoke, his thoughts almost unraveling as he considered the oddities of the situation. “The generations between us are not just tangled—they’re almost mismatched. It’s a contrast of decisions, timing, and expectations that’s hard to ignore.”

He glanced at his mother, the faintest trace of doubt in his eyes. “I understand the deep affection for the Hwang family, especially given the history with my father and her grandfather. But I wonder if that admiration has made him overlook how strange these connections really are. It’s a lot to consider in something as important as marriage.”

The queen chuckled softly, though her gaze was steady. “You speak as though this is of great consequence. The ties between our families have always been strong. Surely you understand why your father holds them in such high regard.”

Seonghwa exhaled, his brow furrowing slightly. He did understand. The Hwang family had been pillars of loyalty and wisdom for decades, their contributions to the crown invaluable. The late Hwang Taejin had been more than a counselor to King Park—he had been a brother in spirit, if not in blood. And even now, the king's fondness for the Hwang household was evident in every interaction.

Still, the prince could not shake his reservations. “I do not question their loyalty or merit,” he replied, his voice calm but firm. “But I see little reason to entangle myself in such matters simply because of sentiment.”

“You agreed to meet her, Seonghwa,” the queen reminded him gently. “It would do you well to approach this with an open mind. Who knows? Perhaps you will find her company agreeable.”

Seonghwa gave a faint, almost imperceptible scoff. “Agreeable,” he echoed. “I have little need for agreeable company, Mother. What I require is a partner of intellect, strength, and understanding. If she possesses these qualities, then perhaps this meeting will not be entirely futile.”

“Fate has a way of surprising us,” the queen said softly, rising to her feet. She placed a hand on her son’s arm, her expression a mixture of hope and fondness. “Give her a chance, Seonghwa. That is all we ask of you.”

The prince nodded curtly, though his mind remained conflicted. He was no stranger to duty, but this arrangement felt... complicated. And yet, as much as he might resist, he could not entirely ignore the deep respect his father held for the Hwang family. If nothing else, he owed it to the king to see this through.

As he returned to his chambers later that evening, Seonghwa allowed himself a rare moment of reflection. Her name lingered in his thoughts, an enigma wrapped in his family’s history. He resolved to meet her with the same quiet strength and scrutiny he approached all things—but he would not let sentiment cloud his judgment.

For a man as steadfast as Seonghwa, the prospect of meeting someone new, especially under such circumstances, was a challenge. But little did he know, the meeting would test him in ways he had never anticipated.

The soft afternoon light filtered through the window beside you, casting warm patterns on the wooden floor. You were curled up in a small nook by the window, a quiet corner of the house that you had claimed as your own. The garden beyond the glass was lush and vibrant, its blooms swaying gently in the breeze. It was a peaceful sight, one you often sought solace in.

The sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence, and you sighed quietly, already bracing yourself for the disruption. Moments later, Seoyoon and Minseok burst into the room, their faces alight with a mixture of excitement and intrigue.

“Y/N,” Seoyoon began, her voice sing-song as she made her way toward you. “Have you heard what Father’s been planning?”

You didn’t look up from your book, your tone flat as you replied, “I’m sure you’ll tell me regardless of whether I have or not.”

Minseok laughed, plopping down onto a nearby chair. “She’s as blunt as ever,” he said, shaking his head. “But you’ll want to hear this, little sister. It’s about the royal family.”

That caught your attention, though you didn’t let it show. Keeping your eyes on the page, you said evenly, “What about them?”

Seoyoon perched herself on the edge of the table, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Apparently, Father has been talking with the king. And do you know what they’ve decided?”

You glanced up at her, your expression unreadable. “I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.”

“They’re planning for you to meet the Crown Prince,” she said, her voice dripping with glee.

You blinked, the words hanging in the air for a moment before you set your book down. “Why?”

Minseok leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? The king and Father have always been close. And with the prince needing a bride, it seems Father thinks you might be a good match.”

Your gaze shifted between your siblings, your mind working to process this sudden revelation. “And no one thought to ask me what I think about this?”

Seoyoon laughed, a melodic sound that made your irritation spike. “Oh, Y/N, you always act as though you have a choice in these matters. This is about duty, about family. You should feel honored.”

“Honored,” you echoed, your tone dry. “To be paraded in front of a man I’ve never met, all for the sake of politics? Forgive me if I fail to see the appeal.”

Minseok held up his hands in mock surrender. “We’re just the messengers, little sister. If you have complaints, take them to Father. But I doubt it’ll change anything.”

You turned your gaze back to the garden, your thoughts swirling. The idea of meeting the Crown Prince—a man whose reputation for coldness preceded him—was far from appealing. But you knew your father well enough to know that his mind was likely already made up.

“Lovely,” you muttered under your breath, picking up your book once more. “This is exactly how I wanted to spend my time.”

Seoyoon grinned, patting your shoulder as she stood. “Cheer up, Y/N. Who knows? Maybe you’ll surprise yourself.”

As Seoyoon leaned in closer, her grin widening, you sighed and finally closed your book, resting it on your lap. You turned to her, your tone as dry as ever. “Aren’t you married, Seoyoon? Why are you here, meddling in things that don’t concern you? Shouldn’t you be at your own home, managing your household?”

Seoyoon gasped, placing a hand over her chest as though you’d struck her. “How cruel, Y/N! Is this how you speak to your poor elder sister who only wants the best for you?”

“You’re hardly poor, and your meddling is far from helpful,” you retorted, arching an eyebrow. “Go home, Seoyoon. Surely your husband must be wondering where you’ve disappeared to.”

Seoyoon pouted theatrically, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her amusement. “For your information,” she said, drawing herself up with mock dignity, “my work at home is complete. Everything is running perfectly, and my husband is away on business for a while. So, I’ve decided to grace this house with my presence for a couple of weeks.”

You groaned quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Wonderful,” you muttered under your breath. “Just what we all needed.”

Minseok laughed from his seat, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “You should be glad, Y/N. Seoyoon’s here to keep you company. Isn’t that nice?”

“Thrilling,” you deadpanned, leaning back against the nook. “Exactly what I wanted—unsolicited company and unsolicited plans for my life.”

Seoyoon reached out and ruffled your hair in a way that only an older sibling could get away with. “Oh, come now, Y/N. You’ll thank me someday for my wisdom and guidance. Just wait and see.”

You swatted her hand away, glaring at her half-heartedly. “I highly doubt that.”

As she and Minseok shared another laugh, you sighed and picked up your book again, silently bracing yourself for the chaos her extended stay would undoubtedly bring.

The warm glow of the evening lanterns filled the dining hall as your family gathered for the evening meal. The atmosphere was lively, with Seoyoon chatting away about her plans for the week, Minseok teasing her, and your other brothers laughing at their antics. You sat quietly at your usual spot, focused on your plate, letting the noise of the room wash over you.

As the meal was nearing its end, your father cleared his throat, a sure sign that he had something important to say. The room quieted almost instantly, everyone turning their attention to him.

“I have news to share,” he began, his tone steady but carrying a weight that made your stomach sink slightly. “The king and queen, along with the Crown Prince, will be visiting our household in three days’ time.”

The words hung in the air for a moment before they fully registered. Your siblings exchanged surprised glances, and Seoyoon’s face lit up with excitement. You, however, frowned, your grip tightening on your utensils.

“To what purpose?” you asked, your voice calm but edged with suspicion.

Your father met your gaze, his expression firm yet warm. “They are coming to formally meet you, Y/N, and to discuss the arrangements for your marriage to the Crown Prince.”

The room erupted in chatter—your brothers asking further questions, Seoyoon clapping her hands in delight—but you felt as though the ground had shifted beneath you.

“Marriage?” you repeated, your tone sharper now. “And when, exactly, were you planning to inform me of this?”

Your mother, who had been quiet until now, placed a gentle hand on your father’s arm and smiled at you. “Y/N, we knew you’d react this way, and we didn’t want to burden you with unnecessary worries before everything was set.”

“Unnecessary worries?” you echoed incredulously, setting down your utensils with a clatter. “You’re discussing my marriage—my future—and you didn’t think I should have a say in the matter? Or even be informed before decisions were made?”

Your father waved a hand dismissively, his tone remaining calm but final. “This is not something for you to worry about, Y/N. The king himself has chosen you, and this is a great honor for our family. Everything has been decided with the best intentions for you and for us all.”

“But—” you tried to protest, only for Seoyoon to cut in, her voice bright and eager.

“Oh, Y/N, stop being so dramatic! It’s the Crown Prince we’re talking about! What more could you possibly want?”

You shot her a glare but bit back your retort, knowing it would be futile. Looking back at your father, you tried one last time. “I only wish I had been told sooner. Surely I deserve that much.”

“Y/N,” your father said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You are my daughter, and as part of this family, you must trust that we have made the right choice for you. The matter is settled.”

You sank back in your chair, the weight of their words pressing down on you. Around you, the conversation quickly shifted to the preparations for the royal visit, your family buzzing with excitement. But you couldn’t shake the frustration and unease bubbling within you.

You sat quietly, your appetite gone, staring down at your untouched plate as their voices grew distant in your mind. The life you cherished—the quiet, predictable solitude—was slipping away, and no one seemed to care.

The day the royals arrived, the Hwang household was bustling with activity. The servants had been working tirelessly to prepare the house, and your family was dressed in their finest attire. You stood near the back of the receiving room, watching as your parents greeted the king, queen, and the Crown Prince with warm smiles and formal bows.

When they entered, Prince Seonghwa's presence was immediately commanding. Dressed in a perfectly tailored royal suit, his sharp features and cold demeanor matched everything you had heard about him. He was polite but distant, exchanging pleasantries with your father and siblings, his tone measured and precise.

You, however, remained quiet, answering only when directly addressed, and even then, your responses were curt and to the point. The rest of your family, particularly Seoyoon, made up for your lack of enthusiasm with their excitement and chatter.

After a lengthy discussion between your father and the king about the arrangements, your mother approached you with a pointed look and said softly, “Y/N, why don’t you and the prince have a private conversation? Get to know each other.”

You wanted to protest, but before you could, Seoyoon nudged you forward with a teasing smile. Reluctantly, you followed the prince to the garden, where the air was cooler, and the faint scent of blooming flowers lingered.

Seonghwa walked a step ahead of you, his hands clasped behind his back. When you reached the center of the garden, he turned to face you, his dark eyes scanning your face for a moment before he spoke.

“I trust you find this arrangement agreeable?” he asked, his tone formal and detached.

You gave a polite nod. “If it pleases my family, then it pleases me.”

He raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “That is... an expected answer. You speak of duty rather than choice.”

“It seems choice was never part of the discussion,” you replied evenly, your gaze meeting his without flinching.

For a moment, there was silence between you, the distant hum of conversation from the house filling the space. Seonghwa tilted his head slightly, studying you. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

You hesitated for a moment before answering. “I speak when there’s something worth saying.”

A faint flicker of amusement crossed his face, so brief you almost missed it. “An admirable philosophy,” he said. “Though it makes conversations rather... challenging.”

“That depends on who I’m speaking to,” you replied, your tone calm but not unkind.

He seemed to consider your words, his expression softening just slightly. “Fair enough,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I suppose I am not accustomed to people who value silence over unnecessary chatter.”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead letting the silence stretch between you. The weight of his gaze was palpable, but you refused to shrink under it. Finally, you said, “I’m sure the prince has little need for idle conversation, either.”

This time, his lips twitched into the faintest semblance of a smile. “Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But I find myself curious about you, Miss Hwang. You are... different.”

You inclined your head slightly. “Different isn’t always favorable, Your Highness.”

“Not always,” he agreed, his voice thoughtful. “But sometimes it is necessary.”

The two of you stood there for a moment longer, the quiet garden suddenly feeling more intimate than before. You couldn’t quite read the prince, his every word and movement calculated, but there was a strange sense of understanding in his tone.

Before either of you could say more, a servant appeared in the garden, bowing deeply. “Your Highness, the king has requested your presence.”

Seonghwa nodded once, then turned back to you. “Until next time, Miss Hwang.”

You offered a polite nod in return. “Your Highness.”

As he walked away, you exhaled softly, unsure of what to make of the exchange. Something about the prince unsettled you—not in an unpleasant way, but in a way that left you wondering.

It had been a week since the royals left, and life at the Hwang household had returned to its usual rhythm—at least on the surface. Beneath the calm, preparations for your upcoming marriage were already in full swing, much to your quiet displeasure. You found solace in your little routines, but even that was short-lived.

One crisp morning, as you sat in your usual nook by the window with a book in hand, a servant hurried in with a message. “Miss, the Crown Prince has arrived. He wishes to take you on an outing.”

You froze, the words sinking in. Closing the book slowly, you looked up. “Did he say why?”

The servant hesitated. “No, miss. But your father has already given his approval.”

Of course, you thought grimly. Rising reluctantly, you made your way to the front of the house, where the prince stood waiting. He was dressed impeccably, as always, and his expression was as composed as you remembered.

“Miss Hwang,” he greeted with a slight bow.

“Your Highness,” you replied, offering a polite nod.

“I trust you are ready?” he asked, though his tone made it clear that readiness was not optional.

With no room to argue, you stepped forward, and the two of you were soon seated in a carriage heading toward the nearby town. The ride was silent, save for the occasional creak of the wheels. You glanced out of the window, unsure of what to say—or if you should say anything at all.

Finally, Seonghwa broke the silence. “I take it this arrangement was not your idea either.”

You turned to him, surprised by his bluntness. “No, it wasn’t. But I assume it wasn’t yours, either.”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “You assume correctly. It seems our families are quite determined to ensure we... bond.”

“Bonding is difficult when both parties are here against their will,” you said, your tone matter-of-fact.

His smirk grew just slightly. “Indeed. Though I must admit, it is refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t mask their opinions with pleasantries.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him. “I could say the same, Your Highness. Most people would not dare admit to disliking an arrangement like this.”

“Most people are not in my position,” he replied simply.

The carriage came to a stop, and the footman opened the door. Seonghwa stepped out first, offering you his hand. Reluctantly, you took it, allowing him to help you down. The two of you stood at the entrance to the bustling town square, the lively atmosphere a stark contrast to the tense silence between you.

“This town is known for its markets,” Seonghwa said, gesturing to the colorful stalls ahead. “I thought it might be... suitable for an outing.”

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Was that your idea, or your family’s?”

He paused, his gaze steady. “Does it matter?”

You didn’t answer, instead turning your attention to the market. The two of you walked side by side, the chatter and laughter of the townsfolk filling the air. Occasionally, Seonghwa would point out a stall or comment on a vendor’s goods, but your responses were short and polite.

At one point, he stopped in front of a flower vendor, his eyes scanning the vibrant array of blooms. “Do you have a favorite flower, Miss Hwang?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Not particularly.”

He picked up a small bouquet of white lilies, studying them for a moment before handing them to the vendor. “Then allow me to choose,” he said, his tone calm but firm.

You accepted the bouquet hesitantly, unsure of what to say. The gesture felt oddly personal, and you couldn’t decide whether to be flattered or annoyed.

As the outing continued, the initial stiffness between you began to ease—just slightly. By the time the sun began to set, the carriage ride back was not as silent as before. Though your exchanges were still brief, there was a newfound understanding between you, however faint it might have been.

When you arrived back at the Hwang household, Seonghwa escorted you to the door, his expression as composed as ever. “Thank you for indulging this outing, Miss Hwang. I hope it was not entirely unpleasant.”

You glanced at him, clutching the bouquet of lilies. “It was... tolerable,” you said, a hint of dry humor in your tone.

He inclined his head slightly, the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes. “I shall take that as a success. Until next time.”

With that, he turned and left, leaving you standing at the door with the flowers in hand. As you watched the carriage disappear down the path, you couldn’t help but wonder what the next “arranged” meeting would bring.

You retreated to your room, eager for solitude. You placed the bouquet of white lilies on a small table near the window, their subtle fragrance filling the air as you sat on the edge of your bed.

Moments later, your door creaked open without so much as a knock. Seoyoon stepped in, her eyes immediately landing on the bouquet. A mischievous grin spread across her face.

“Well, well,” she began, closing the door behind her. “It seems the Crown Prince is quite the gentleman, isn’t he?”

You didn’t look up, reaching for the book on your bedside table. “If you’re here to tease me, save your breath. I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh, come now,” she said, flopping onto the chair near the window and picking up one of the lilies. “A prince gives you flowers, and you sit here sulking as if it were some great tragedy. Most girls would be over the moon!”

“You’re welcome to them if you’re so envious,” you replied dryly, flipping a page.

Seoyoon gasped theatrically, holding the lily to her chest. “How heartless! And here I thought you might finally soften up a little. Tell me, how did it go? Did he say anything romantic? Or was it all as cold and stiff as you?”

You shot her a glare over the top of your book. “It was... fine. He talked. I listened. That’s all there is to it.”

“‘Fine,’” she echoed, rolling her eyes. “You’re impossible, you know that? Most people would kill for a chance to speak with him, let alone be courted by him.”

“I’m not ‘most people,’” you replied, your voice flat.

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “You didn’t thank him for the flowers, did you?”

Your silence was enough.

Seoyoon groaned, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re hopeless, truly. The least you could do is try to show some interest. He’s the Crown Prince, for goodness’ sake!”

Closing your book with a snap, you fixed her with a level stare. “I didn’t ask for any of this, Seoyoon. I didn’t ask for the flowers, the outing, or the marriage. If he wants to court someone, he can find someone who actually cares.”

Seoyoon sighed, her teasing demeanor softening slightly. “I know you didn’t ask for this, Y/N. But it’s happening, whether you like it or not. You could at least give him a chance. Who knows? He might surprise you.”

You, staring at the lilies with a faint frown, replied bluntly, “He looks like he doesn’t enjoy company himself. This whole arrangement is just as forced on him as it is on me.” You paused, your voice lowering. “I’ve been a burden to all of you long enough. Now, I’ll just be a burden to the royal family instead.”

Her brows knit together, and she crossed her arms, stepping closer to you. “Y/N, don’t say that. You’re not a burden.”

You let out a humorless laugh, finally looking up at her. “Am I not? Everyone in this house pushes me to be someone I’m not. To go out, to socialize, to act the part. And now, I’m being married off to a prince who probably thinks I’m as much of a nuisance as I think this whole situation is.”

Seoyoon crouched slightly so she could look directly into your eyes, her expression unusually serious. “You’re not a nuisance, and you’re not a burden. You’re just... different. And that’s not a bad thing.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter what I think, does it? I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for Father, for the family, for appearances. Isn’t that all I’ve ever done?”

Seoyoon’s lips parted as if she wanted to argue, but no words came out. She knew you were right, at least in part. Finally, she placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I won’t pretend to understand how you feel, but I do know this—whatever the reason for this marriage, it’s not because you’re a burden. You’re marrying a prince, Y/N. That means, whether you like it or not, someone sees your worth.”

You scoffed, but your gaze softened slightly. “Or they just see what’s convenient.”

Seoyoon straightened up and shook her head with a faint smile. “You’ll see, Y/N. Maybe he doesn’t look like the warmest person, but I doubt he’s as indifferent as you think. People like him don’t show their cards right away.”

“Or ever,” you muttered under your breath.

“Give him a chance,” she urged one last time, heading for the door. “And give yourself one too.”

As the door clicked shut behind her, you turned back to the lilies, their delicate beauty contrasting sharply with the heaviness in your chest. A burden or not, the path before you had been set. All that remained now was to walk it, whether you liked it or not.

The royal wedding was a grand affair, filled with splendor and elegance that you could hardly process. The intricate decorations, the endless sea of nobles in fine clothing, and the constant hum of polite conversation all blurred together in your mind. Through it all, you remained stoic, performing each ritual with quiet precision.

Seonghwa, as expected, was composed and regal throughout, his every action calculated and perfect. Yet there was something in his demeanor—something almost... softer than you’d expected.

When the final ritual was completed, and the two of you were officially declared husband and wife, the grand hall erupted into applause. You stood there, holding his hand lightly as tradition demanded, your expression unreadable.

It wasn’t until the two of you were seated at the head of the banquet table that Seonghwa’s façade shifted ever so slightly. Leaning closer, he asked in a low voice, “Are you comfortable, Miss Hwang?”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “It’s Lady Park now,” you replied, your tone calm.

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Ah, yes. My apologies. Are you comfortable... Lady Park?”

You hesitated, then nodded. “I am fine, Your Highness.”

He glanced at the feast before you, his voice quiet but insistent. “And the food? Is it to your liking?”

“It’s... more than sufficient,” you replied, unsure how else to respond.

For a moment, silence hung between you as you both turned your attention to the crowd of nobles mingling below. Then, out of nowhere, Seonghwa leaned in closer, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours. “See that man in the green coat near the pillar?” he whispered, his tone conspiratorial.

Your eyes followed his gaze to a portly man with a large mustache. “Yes?”

“That’s Lord Baek. He prides himself on his wine collection, yet he can’t tell the difference between a rare vintage and a common bottle of grape juice. It’s quite the running joke among the court.”

You glanced at him, unsure whether to laugh or remain indifferent. “And you’re telling me this because...?”

“Because,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, “you’ll hear him mention his wine at least three times tonight. Consider it a test of your patience.”

Despite yourself, a small smile ghosted across your lips. “Noted.”

He nodded, his expression still unreadable but his tone oddly warm. “And over there, by the orchestra—that’s Lady Seo. She once petitioned the court to create a holiday celebrating her dog’s birthday.”

This time, you couldn’t suppress a quiet chuckle. “You’re joking.”

“I assure you, I am not,” he said, his lips quirking into the faintest smile. “The petition was, of course, denied.”

As the evening progressed, Seonghwa continued his whispered commentary, pointing out various nobles and sharing tidbits about them. His tone remained calm and steady, but there was a subtle playfulness in his words that made it feel almost like a private game between the two of you.

For the first time, the weight of the occasion felt a little less suffocating. While you remained stoic, you couldn’t deny that his unexpected warmth and attentiveness were... surprising.

When the banquet finally began to wind down, he leaned closer once more, his voice just loud enough for you to hear. “I know this is overwhelming, Lady Park, but if it is any consolation, you’ve handled it with grace.”

You turned to him, meeting his steady gaze. “Thank you, Your Highness. Though I suspect you’ve handled it far more times than I ever will.”

He inclined his head slightly, his faint smile returning. “Perhaps. But it seems we’ll be handling it together now.”

The weight of his words lingered as the evening drew to a close, leaving you with an unexpected sense of companionship—however fragile it might have been.

The grand festivities had finally come to an end, and the palace halls grew quiet as the guests dispersed. Servants had escorted you and Seonghwa to the newly prepared royal chamber, its luxurious décor only adding to the weight of the day.

The large room was lit softly by golden sconces and candles, the warmth of the light contrasting with the coolness of your nerves. You stood in the center of the room, unsure what to do or say, your hands fidgeting slightly with the heavy jewelry draped over you.

Seonghwa, ever composed, closed the door behind him. For a moment, he stood silently, observing you with his usual unreadable expression. Then, stepping closer, he spoke in a tone that was softer than you expected.

“May I help you?”

You looked at him, startled. “With...?”

He gestured toward the intricate outer layers of your wedding dress and the heavy ornaments adorning your neck and wrists. “With this. I imagine it has been a long day for you.”

You hesitated, unsure whether to agree, but the weight of the jewelry was becoming unbearable. Finally, you gave him a small nod. “If you wish, Your Highness.”

A faint smile ghosted across his lips as he stepped behind you. “Turn around,” he instructed gently.

You complied, feeling his presence close behind you as his hands moved to unclasp the elaborate necklace around your neck. His movements were careful, precise, as though he feared hurting you.

“This must be heavier than it looks,” he murmured, setting the necklace aside on a nearby table.

“It is,” you replied quietly, your voice barely audible.

He moved to the bracelets next, unfastening them with ease. “I imagine it wasn’t easy to wear all this through the day.”

“It wasn’t, but I managed,” you said, your tone as stoic as ever.

“Of course you did,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

Next, his hands reached for the ties of your outer gown, his fingers working deftly to loosen them. You felt the fabric lighten as he removed the outer layer, draping it neatly over a chair.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said, stepping back slightly. “It felt inappropriate to summon a maid for this.”

You turned to face him, surprised by his consideration. “It’s fine,” you said softly, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away.

He inclined his head slightly, his dark eyes studying you for a moment. “You must be tired. You should rest.”

“And you, Your Highness?” you asked, your tone polite but distant.

He smiled faintly, the expression barely reaching his eyes. “I’ll manage, as I always do.”

With that, he stepped away, giving you space to prepare for bed. Though the room was large and luxurious, the atmosphere between you was quiet, almost delicate. As you finally lay down, your mind swirled with thoughts of the day, of the marriage, and of the man who had, against your expectations, shown you an unexpected gentleness.

When Seonghwa finally settled into the space beside you, he didn’t say a word. Yet, the calmness in his demeanor seemed to ease some of the tension in the room. And though you still felt like strangers, for the first time, you didn’t feel entirely alone.

The room was quiet, save for the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. You lay on the grand bed, staring at the ornate canopy above, trying to will yourself to sleep. The day had been exhausting, yet your mind refused to settle. Beside you, Seonghwa’s steady breathing suggested he was equally restless.

Minutes passed in silence before his voice broke through the stillness, low and steady. “You’re not asleep either, are you?”

You turned your head slightly, catching the faint outline of his face in the dim light. “No,” you admitted. “Too much on my mind.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Understandable. Today was... a lot, even by royal standards.”

You nodded, though he couldn’t see it clearly. “Do you ever get used to it? The expectations, the attention, the... weight of it all?”

“Not entirely,” he replied honestly. “But you learn to carry it differently over time.”

There was a pause, and then he added, “Though I imagine this is harder for you. You didn’t grow up with it.”

You let out a soft sigh, your voice quieter now. “It’s overwhelming. I feel like I don’t belong here.”

He shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you. “You’ll find your place. It may take time, but you will.”

You turned to face him, his face now more visible in the faint glow of the firelight. “Why are you being so gentle with me?” you asked, your tone a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.

His lips curved into the faintest smile, one corner quirking up. “I’m introverted, not heartless.”

The unexpected honesty in his reply caught you off guard, and for the first time that day, a small, genuine smile tugged at your lips. “Fair point.”

He lay back down, his voice softer now. “I don’t see the point in making this harder than it has to be. We’re both here because of duty, not choice. But that doesn’t mean we can’t find a way to make it bearable.”

You considered his words, the tension in your chest easing just slightly. “I suppose that makes sense.”

After you murmured your agreement, Seonghwa shifted slightly, turning onto his side to face you. His dark eyes, steady and calm, met yours in the dim light.

“You should sleep,” he said softly, his tone carrying a hint of finality. “It’s been a long day, and tomorrow will bring its own demands.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the subtle warmth in his voice despite his usual reserved demeanor. “I could say the same to you,” you replied, your tone quieter now.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, barely visible in the low light. “I’ll sleep when you do. Consider it... a gesture of fairness.”

You didn’t argue, though you couldn’t quite bring yourself to look away from him. The firelight cast faint shadows on his face, softening the sharpness of his features. For a moment, you wondered if the man who had seemed so cold and distant all day might have more to him than you had assumed.

“Goodnight, Lady Park,” he said, his voice low and steady, his eyes lingering on yours for a beat longer than necessary before he closed them.

You hesitated, then finally replied, “Goodnight, Your Highness.”

Turning onto your back, you stared up at the canopy once more. But this time, the weight of the day felt a little lighter, and though your thoughts still swirled, the warmth of his words lingered, eventually lulling you into a restless, yet strangely comforting sleep.

The soft light of morning filtered through the curtains as you rose, the events of the previous day still weighing on your mind. After breakfast, you were introduced to your lady-in-waiting, a young woman named Eunji. She was polite and cheerful, eager to assist as she began organizing your dresses and jewelry in the royal wardrobe.

As she carefully laid out a selection of necklaces, her eyes lingered on one in particular—a delicate piece adorned with shimmering pearls and intricate goldwork.

“This one is especially beautiful,” she said softly, almost as though she hadn’t meant to voice her thoughts aloud.

You glanced at the necklace, then at her. “Do you like it?”

Her cheeks flushed as she quickly shook her head. “Oh, no, My Lady. It’s not my place to—”

You cut her off gently. “If you like it, you can keep it.”

Eunji froze, her eyes wide. “What? No, My Lady, I couldn’t possibly—His Highness would be furious if he found out—”

“He won’t,” you interrupted, your tone calm but firm. “And even if he does, I’ll deal with him.”

She hesitated, wringing her hands as she looked from you to the necklace. “But it’s too valuable... it wouldn’t be right.”

You sighed lightly, picking up the necklace and placing it in her hands. “Eunji, if I say it’s yours, then it’s yours. Consider it a gift.”

Her eyes filled with hesitation, but also gratitude. “My Lady, you’re too kind...”

“I insist,” you said, giving her a faint smile. “Besides, what’s the point of having all of this if it can’t bring someone a little happiness?”

After a moment of silence, she finally nodded, her fingers curling around the necklace. “Thank you, My Lady. I’ll treasure it.”

You gave her a small nod and returned to sorting through the rest of the items. Though you didn’t say it aloud, her joy over something so simple felt strangely fulfilling, a brief reprieve from the unfamiliar world you now found yourself navigating.

Later that afternoon, Seonghwa approached you as you sat in the study, quietly reading through a book. His footsteps were soft, but his presence was impossible to miss. Without preamble, he spoke, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of curiosity.

“I see you’ve gifted something to one of the servants.”

You looked up from your book, meeting his gaze. His face, as usual, betrayed little emotion, but there was no trace of anger there. “Yes,” you admitted evenly. “Are you mad?”

A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. “It’s your belongings. Do whatever you wish with them.”

His words were simple, yet they carried an air of reassurance that you hadn’t expected.

He paused briefly, glancing toward the window before continuing. “By the way, I noticed you’ve organized your belongings in my room quite efficiently. Impressive.”

You blinked, your calm exterior faltering just slightly. “Should I... remove them?” you asked hesitantly, unsure if he found the arrangement intrusive.

Seonghwa turned his gaze back to you, his dark eyes steady and unreadable. “No,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. “This room, this house—they’re yours now. You can do whatever you want here.”

For a moment, his words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. He wasn’t just giving you permission to arrange your belongings; he was offering you a sense of ownership, of belonging, in a world that still felt foreign to you.

You nodded slowly, unsure how to respond. “Thank you,” you murmured, returning your attention to your book, though your thoughts now lingered on his unexpected generosity.

Seonghwa didn’t say anything more. He simply gave a faint nod and walked away, leaving you with a strange sense of comfort and the quiet realization that, perhaps, this new life wouldn’t be as lonely as you had feared.

The days in the palace continued, a quiet routine settling between you and Seonghwa, interrupted only by the occasional royal event or meeting. You had grown accustomed to the rhythms of royal life, though the sense of unfamiliarity still lingered in the corners of your mind. The grand halls, the soft whispers of servants, the unspoken expectations—they all seemed so far removed from the life you had once known.

One afternoon, as you sorted through your tasks, you hesitated for a moment before turning to Seonghwa, who was seated at his desk, reading through a pile of royal documents.

“Seonghwa,” you began, your voice tentative, “I was wondering if I could have a little money. I need it for... something.”

He glanced up from his papers, his gaze sharp as always, but this time, there was a trace of something softer behind his eyes. He studied you for a moment, and then, it hit him—the realization that you still seemed uncertain, still hesitant when it came to making decisions, even small ones.

He set down his papers, his voice quieter, almost gentle as he addressed you.

“You still ask for permission, don’t you?” he said, a subtle sadness creeping into his words.

You froze, not quite understanding what he meant. “I... I just don’t want to overstep.”

Seonghwa shook his head, standing up from his desk. “This is your house now. It’s your life, your choices. And,” he paused, walking over to you with a soft expression, “my money is your money. You don’t need permission for anything.”

His words were simple, but they carried a weight of sincerity, as though he were explaining something basic to a child. And for a brief moment, you felt a warmth in your chest—a quiet understanding that perhaps, in his own way, Seonghwa was offering you a sense of freedom, something you had never truly known in this new world.

“You can do whatever you want,” he continued, his voice softer now. “The money, the house, everything. It’s yours. Don’t ask for permission again.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the softness in his tone, the genuine care that laced his words. Slowly, you nodded, the nervous tension in your shoulders easing. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seonghwa gave you a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes but still held a certain warmth. “You don’t need to thank me for that. I’m just reminding you of something you’ve already earned.”

You felt a strange comfort in his words, the weight of them sinking into your heart. It was a small moment, a simple exchange, but somehow it made this life, this strange new world you were trying to navigate, feel just a little more like home.

For the first time since childhood, since stepping into the palace and the unfamiliar life it held, you felt something you hadn’t realized you were missing: importance. You were no longer just a piece in someone else’s game, a mere addition to a royal family that was bound by duty and expectation. Seonghwa’s words—his reminder that this house, this life, was as much yours as it was his—had cracked open something inside you.

Without thinking, your arms moved instinctively, wrapping tightly around him. His presence, his warmth, and the unexpected kindness of his words had unraveled something deep inside you, something you hadn’t let yourself feel before: a sense of belonging.

Seonghwa froze for a moment, clearly startled by the sudden embrace. His body stiffened, unsure of how to react to the closeness, the softness in your hold. You could feel his breath catch slightly, his posture rigid as though he were trying to figure out whether to push you away or to let the moment pass. But you held on, the need to feel this sense of connection overwhelming any reservations you had.

“I... I’m sorry,” you muttered, realizing only then that you were clinging to him, your face pressed against his chest.

For a long, tense moment, neither of you spoke. The silence between you felt thick, as though both of you were holding your breath. Then, slowly, you felt Seonghwa’s arms move around you—hesitant at first, as though he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to the warmth of your embrace. But when he did finally wrap his arms around you, the touch was gentle, almost tender, as though he was grounding himself in this unspoken moment.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he murmured quietly into your hair, his voice low and steady. There was an unfamiliar softness in it, a rare vulnerability that he seldom allowed to show. “You’re not a burden, you know.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, the knot in your chest loosening. His words, so simple yet so profound, made your heart flutter. You had been carrying the weight of so many expectations for so long, always trying to be what was needed, always trying to do what was right. But here, in his arms, you felt for the first time like you mattered—not for what you could offer, but for who you were.

“I just... I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, as though you were afraid to speak the truth out loud. “I don’t know how to navigate this life. It feels... so different.”

Seonghwa’s grip on you tightened slightly, not out of necessity but of understanding. “You’re not alone in this, you know. I’m here. I’ll help you find your way.”

His words settled over you like a blanket, warm and comforting. You didn’t need to say anything more. You simply held on, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade. There were no royal expectations, no duty or obligations weighing down on you. There was just Seonghwa, just the feeling of being held, of being seen.

When he finally pulled back, his hands lingered at your sides, a hesitant gesture as if he weren’t ready to completely release the closeness you had just shared. His gaze met yours, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes—a flicker of care, an unspoken connection between the two of you that neither of you had acknowledged until now.

“You’re important,” he said softly, his voice unwavering. “More than you know.”

And in that moment, you loved this feeling, you believed him.

[lani-heart]

ATEEZ -> HOW'D THEY GIVE ORAL?

|| lani-heart's ultimate masterlist || MDNI ||

genre(s) -> reaction, smut, anonymous request <3 paring(s) -> ( separately ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> pure smut... like all of it is smut. MDNI

-> KIM HONGJOONG 

Out of all of the members, Hongjoong is who I’d consider the biggest tease and menace. He’d mock you and overstimulate you, probably thinking of this as punishment if you act out. If you couldn’t handle cumming for the fifth time alone with him just eating you out he’d pout and also fake sympathize with you. He’d talk you through it and keep on making you cum even after your squirt. You already made a mess anyway so why should he stop? He isn’t the type to get off of your pleasure to worship you but does it more for entertainment to see you whine and squirm because of him. A huge sadist getting off on how you can’t take it anymore. Maybe even with a slight dumbification kink in there where you’d cum so many times that you can’t even think straight. Would doubt he’d even stop if you passed out ( he’d be worried and make sure you’re okay before going back at it ) and still tease you when you wake up. 

“I can’t believe how big of a mess you’ve made… who’s gonna clean it up?” he would say and go back to eating you out saying he was simply cleaning the mess and you were making the mess bigger.  “How is that my fault?” 

-> PARK SEONGHWA 

Arguably the best at oral. Also, the second biggest pussy whipped member here. I think he is one of the members who’d get off of your pleasure and want to hear you cum over and over again. He could skip the whole part of his pleasure and purely be satisfied with making you cum on his tongue alone. Not much of a talker like Hongjoong but instead is pussy whipped where nothing can pull him away from you. Stuck like this for hours or an eternity if he could. Even if you move to close your thighs while he’s still overstimulating you, he’d only chuckle. He wasn’t close to finishing… this was where he’d stay because this wasn’t just about pleasuring you but also his own pleasure. It was as if he was starving or thirsty and hadn't had water for days. 

“Let me have one more, just one more time” he’d beg after you tried to pull him away too overestimated to continue further. Though one more… turned into two then three, etc.  “Promise this is the last one” 

-> JUNG YUNHO  

I don’t see Yunho as the type who’d do oral often and would probably only do it as foreplay. Using his fingers more than anything and… we know why. When he would it would be a mix of foreplay and fingering. He isn’t a menace or as mean as other members but if you were to act out I see him more like being a jerk where he’d make you beg for him to pleasure you. He’d use oral as a way to tease you before finally giving in to what you want as well as adding fingers into the hither movement to try to make you cum or even squirt. I don’t see him doing it often for a long time but would do it briefly as foreplay. 

“Why should I?” he’d tease to get you to beg before you were a whiny mess and laugh and smirk at your expression before kissing your clit.  “Okay okay… we’ll do what you want for now”

-> KANG YEOSANG 

This man is scheming… I can see him one day scrolling on Tiktok and finding that one trend of feeding your partner pineapple the whole day. He’d go to the store and buy a bunch of pre-cut pineapple and throughout the day when you’re busy, he’d feed you one until you either notice or you’ve finished the pineapple he bought. Once you finish it he’d have to try to get you into the mood where he’d decide today was an experiment so he’d worship you and tell you later. Though… if it did change something he’d become addicted. Probably would be stuck there for a while even after you come until it's too much after each time he makes you cum. He’d just praise you and how you taste that he wouldn't be able to stop. He’d probably also decide not to tell you about what he did anymore and implement pineapple in your permanent diet. 

“You taste so good… just enjoy it” he’d say completely pussy drunk moaning into you making the pleasure even more unbearable while he wouldn’t even stop to breathe.  “I don’t think I can get enough of you”

-> CHOI SAN 

The manhandler… he would ask you to also sit on his face. He’s been working out a lot, after all, he could take it. If you were nervous about it he’d just pick you up from your thighs and lay down not letting you go. He wouldn’t even mind, he wants you to put your entire weight. However, I could see him as more of a giver than a receiver even if you offered to help him off when you're on top of him he’d deny it and whine and groan if you moved. Only tightening his grip on your thighs that you’d get bruises. I don’t think it helps that this whole era he’s been a cowboy, he probably also teased you that if you have the cowboy’s hat you’ll need to be able to ride him in return. He could do it for hours until he has no more self-restraint and you have enough pretty red hickies and even the yellow bruises that’ll turn purple tomorrow. 

“I wanna show you why I’ve been to the gym” he’d say only encouraging you to sit on him and when you did his tongue would explore everywhere it could... barely even taking breaths in between.  “Don’t be shy, princess” 

-> SONG MINGI 

I also don’t see him as someone to do oral often, probably more of a greedy lover for his own pleasure though I think he would like your reactions. Teasing you with pussy slaps in between him sucking your clit and edging you until you cry literal tears. He’d probably do it for his own entertainment rather than your own pleasure and would just tease you to later give you a bigger orgasm. He would also probably leave marks and would only stop once you’ve squirted. If you do come after all the edging he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself and want to feel himself around you. Everything for him is just to see how you squirm and cum because of him. 

“You were about to cum? I’m sorry love” he’d say teasing you and you would be able to hear his disingenuous tone. He’d go back to teasing making you cry.  “Why are you crying? Do you want me to stop?” 

-> JUNG WOOYOUNG 

Pussy Drunk. Gets off on your pleasure and will cum in his pants because of it. After a long day of choreo just to relax and get off he’ll trap you on the couch and piss your clit through your clothes until you finally agree and get rid of your sleeping bottoms. He’d probably make you keep your panties on. Tasting you through your underwear teasing and restraining himself until he couldn’t handle it and needed to taste you from the source. Would lose track of time that he’d probably get off by humping the couch or a pillow while hearing your moans and eating you out. I think he probably wouldn’t hear you if you started to whine out that it was too much and be so lost in your pleasure that you’d have to pull him away. 

“Mmhmm… please I need one more” he’d beg and cry just to continue tasting you and of course how could you ever deny a tired and pouty Woo.  “I just wanna feel and taste you some more”

-> CHOI JONGHO 

He’d definitely use oral against you. Maybe the meanest member when it comes to punishment. He would tie you up, give you what you want until you beg to cum when he’ll stop and leave you in the room for in theory a few seconds but for you feels like forever wanting to cum so badly and wanting him to come back until you finally apologize for being a brat, begging for him to come back. He would tease you until you finally beg him to finish you off, he’d really only use oral during punishments or special occasions or… when he felt that you learned your lesson and should be rewarded. 

“You’re sorry, right? I think we should reward good behavior” he’d tease seeing your pouty and tear-stained face before aiming to make you come. But when you do… it was really intense and– “You can give me a few more right? To make it up to me?”

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[itstheghostofmypast]

A Goodfella's Moondance

Mafia AU Choi San x Reader

Summary: He waited for her to waltz into his arms, and she did. He felt her jitter and shiver under his touch, much like how he did the same on her love. He had found someone to love and cherish, someone who kept his fragile morality in check, someone who he could call a lover, a wife, a weakness.

Genre: Hurt Comfort

Rating: PG- 13

Word Count: 2.4 K

Est. Read Time: 12 min

Warnings: Blood, kidnapping, murder, guns.

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Song: Moondance by Micheal Bublé

“Do you feel better?” His soft whisper gently pulled her back to consciousness, back to the comfort of the warm, soft, cotton that they were cocooned within, succumbing to the sleep that lay heavy in their bones.

“Mhmmm…” 

Ever so slowly, her body turned to the other side, her back that was once pressed against his warm chest, grazing the subtle cotton of one of the many blankets he had heaped upon them in his frenzy of bringing her some form of comfort, trying to suppress the jitters that rocked through her even though she said she was fine. Hands pressed against his chest, vibrating with each beat of his ever loving heart, her head tilted up on her pillow, meeting his tender gaze, eying the small smile that only she got to see, that too behind closed doors.

“Good.”

With that hanging above them, the man wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him, forcing her to become one with him, though he could tell by the way her arms had looped around his slender waist, his action was more than welcome. 

Little did he know this side of his, this gentleness, this care, this attentiveness was what had her losing her grasp on the bitter reality of the world, perhaps that's why last night she was unable to figure out how the guy asking her for directions was actually going to kidnap her. 

One moment a man approaches her while she sat at the bus stop, after her lover had texted her how he would be unable to pick her up from the hospital tonight, also canceling their date because of some ‘Urgent Business.’ The next thing she knew was how she woke up in the trunk of the man who had approached her at the bus stop, asking her the directions to the hospital as he had to go see is sick wife- sue her for being a caring person, nurse or not, it's not like she wasn't going to help him. 

The fallacy of rationality lies within situations such as these, while he had taught her a variety of methods of escaping, a contractual instruction enforced by Park Seonghwa himself, in the heat of the moment she had forgotten it all, her core memory allowing her to do no more than to whimper out his name, “San.”

It wasn't till she had felt the car stop that her anxiety morphed into aggression kicking against the roof of the truck, while she tried to move her tied hands, removing the blindfold to look around, only to freeze when the trunk opened, staring up at the man in horror.

“Well, aren't you in a lot of trouble, missy.” The fox featured man smiled at her, one that had her let out a relieved sigh, though she tried to ignore the splatted red across his face, dripping down his chin and onto his crisp white shirt, which was evident when he helped her out, pulling her closer to have her sit on the closed trunk, “You okay?”

She could only nod at the fact that, physically, perhaps she was, but she wouldn't be so sure about her mental status, never had this happened before and truly, for the first time in her life had she felt afraid and alone, a feeling her husband had long rid off from her mind, body and soul.

“Good, because San isn't, he's furio-”

The loud bang cut him off, for a split second his eyes flickered to the man who was standing across the car, in front of it, staring at something, or someone on the ground, before moving back to the shivering woman. With a loud sigh he shrugged off his coat and draped it over her shaking shoulders, and called out, “YAH! DID YOU REMOVE YOUR SILENCER?”

The taller man grunted in response, pushing up his glasses, not bothered by the spots of blood staining the glass, in fact the red calmed him down a bit, a reminder of him punishing the bastard who thought this woman was an easy target. 

Wooyoung watched his friend walk over to them, fully aware of how San had removed the silencer on purpose, wanting everyone in the vicinity and the perpetrator to know what happens when you try to come into his personal life.

With a nod he motioned for Wooyoung to sit in the car, disposing the body wasn't part of the plan, Seonghwa had agreed when San had requested to “let me make an example out of him”, so much so that the husband of the woman who was shaking like a leaf currently, had also brought his infamous bat with him, which only reminded his friends of how this was personal was him.

With each gloved hand placed on either side of her on the trunk, he looked down at her, she peaked up at him through her lashes, unsure of what he was going to say or do, perhaps he would be upset with her, disappointed by how she was unable to fend for herself even though he had prepared her for a situation like this, his friends had prepared her for a situation like this. At the end of the day, they were from two different worlds, she would heal people and well he would…what if tonight he finally realised that and-

“I'm sorry.”

Taking off his gloves he placed them beside her before pulling out a pocket knife from his breast pocket, flicking it open as he began to work on the ropes around her wrists. He frowned at the roughness of the threads, mumbling things like, “This may bruise”, “The f*cker didn't need to tighten them so much.”, “Wish I could kill him all over again.”

Once he was done, he tossed the rope aside, gently taking her scratched wrists in his hands, before lifting her wrist up to his lips as he placed a tender kiss on the reddened skin, repeating the motion of love with her other one before looking at her with a somber flare in his eyes, “I'm sorry, I'll be more careful next time.” He should have been more careful, he should have ensured she was safe, it was his job to keep her safe. And he stood there, in blood and tears, seeking her forgiveness, unaware of how the woman was falling even more for her gentle giant of a husband.

“Seonghwa said you can't leave the house without protection anymore.” He mumbled, the bass in his sleep lusted voice making her squeeze him closer, not that he would mind. 

His own hand had begun to aimlessly trail down her spine, only to slide back up to complete the cycle, thinking to himself a moment before he continued, “Hongjoong has assigned a few men…though I'll be around you whenever I'm free. The shipment is late anyway, and he's having Yunho and Mingi deal with it, so I'm all yours for the coming few days.”

“Okay…”

San blinked at her hushed response, it was evident she was elsewhere, or she was still a bit too shaken to respond coherently. Either way, with the gun stashed beneath his pillow and his lover in his arms to protect, he began to formulate a way of protecting her 24/7. Naturally, he couldn't always be there himself nor could his brothers. How much did he trust his men? What if he got her a personal gun or a-

“Sannie?”

His train of thought derailed at her calling, pulling back a bit to glance down at the only reason why he hadn't tipped off the cliff of his primitive instincts, hand pressing flat against her back as he nodded, “Yes, dove?”

“Can you sing for me?”

Could he sing? Of course he could. Did he sing often? No, not really. In fact, she was the newest addition to the only other people who knew his secret, that the right hand man of Ateez, the cold blooded killer trained and raised by Park Seonghwa himself could harmonise with the very same angels that stood at the gates of Heaven, waiting to reject his entrance.  

“What would you like to hear?”

Giving her a small smile he slowly pulled away, sitting up and resting his back against the cushioned headrest of the king sized bed, picking up his glasses from the nightstand and placing them on the bridge of his nose. He turned to glance at her, admiring the way she looked up at him with awe, it was truly a blessing to have an angel such as herself admire a creature like him, willing to bathe in the simmering blood of his brutality, willing to swallow the bitter truth of his existence, willing to embrace the carcass in which once his humanity once flourished. 

“Umm…” slipping the covers off herself she sat up, tugging at the strings of his hoodie that she wore, slowly moving closer and straddling him, looking up at him with a blush ever so subtle, “Moondance?”

A hearty laugh broke past his pout, the bass of his laughter bouncing off the cold walls of the room, blocking out the soft chippers of the early birds outside. If she was being honest, she's sure everyone who was trying to sleep could hear him right now, considering everyone did retire to their rooms after she had come home; have Jongho check her vitals, watch her husband get verbally abused by Hongjoong for being careless, have Seonghwa make her promise to never use public transport again, give Yeosang the entire details of the night so he could ‘take care of the mother company’, eye Yunho who took her husband aside to give him a pep talk after his sulking and be force fed by Mingi who insisted that “You burn more calories being kidnapped than an hour on a treadmill”, all the while having Wooyoung make dinner and yell at them for being noisy- ironic. 

“What's so funny?” She asked, her hands cupping his face before she slipped off his glasses, frowning at the blood splattered on the glass, why didn't he clean this off. And just like that she tilted to her side, reaching over to grab a tissue from the nightstand, feeling him quickly grab her by the waist so she wouldn't fall over.

“Careful there, dove.” He mumbled pulling her back up onto him, watching her try to clean off the dried blood, trying to hold back the urge to crush her with his love, “It's fine- oh.”

“It's not, dirty glasses stress the eyes,” cutting him off she gently slipped the glasses back onto the face of the owner, giving him a smile before getting comfortable on him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she placed her head on the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath, the lingering memories having her latch onto him for comfort. 

San watched her go about as she pleased, much like how she often did, not that he'd ever mind. Once she was settled, nestled against him, he wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning his against the headboard as he sighed. It was evident that last night had taken a toll on her, but what he learnt from experience was that eventually you get over it, become numb to the bitter memory, usually with the help of a distraction or a friend or two. It was never his intention for her to feel this way, in fact, from the moment he had left his heart in her hands at the ER, he had decided to keep her safe, even before she chose to accept his invitation of love, he had decided to keep her safe from all the grotesque wonders he had been blessed to bear witness to since his childhood. Though at the very moment he wondered if that was even worth it, if dragging her into his life was worth it, ruining her chances of living a mundane, peaceful-

“Are you this slow when Seonghwa asks you for something too?”

Her snarky remark caught him off guard, trying to get a better look at her but she just giggled and buried her face in his neck, the only form of compensation given to him was the tender press of her lips against his pulse, only to have it increase two folds. 

San's arms squeezed her, earning a contented sigh from his wife, much to his pleasure as he stared out the window, watching the pale winter sun cast a chalky hue among the cloudy scapes of the sky. Taking a deep breath he whispered into the still of their room, 

Well, it's a marvelous night for a moondance

With the stars up above in your eyes.

A fantabulous night to make romance

'Neath the cover of October skies

Knowing nothing more mattered to him at this point but the woman that clung onto him, her heart beating with his, waltzing through harmony. 

And all the leaves on the trees are falling

To the sound of the breezes that blow

You know I'm tryin' to please to the calling

Of your heartstrings that play soft and low

He felt her hold tighten, mumbling something that he couldn't make out, but the way her body fell lax against him assured him it was some form of positive affirmation. Indeed it was, for before tumbling back into the depths of slumber, swaying in the melody of her husband's voice she had whispered, “Thank you, my love.”

You know the night's magic seems to whisper and hush

You know the soft moonlight seems to shine in your blush

He wondered if she was as smitten for him as he was for her- it amazed him how she'd tell him that she knew he'd always protect her, when the fact of the matter was that it was indeed her who was protecting him, from the insanity of the world that had bruised and battered him inside and out, from the wrath of Park Seonghwa who wanted to end him for choosing to start an affair with a civilian, as pure and naive as her and from himself, the one that he too feared, knowing that if that Choi San was to resurface, only she could stop him. It was fine though, he was going to protect her from the cold, from nature and man. It's what a dutiful goodfella does, what a dutiful husband does.

Can I just have one more moondance with you, my love?

Can I just make some more romance with a-you, my love?

Taglist: @edenesth @skteezcursed @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25

@s-h-y-a @ateezwonderland

[crimsonbubble]

cw// nsfw twt links

🎀 late-night car rides usually end up with you giving hongjoong a ride in his backseat. parking in a near-empty parking lot just to have your needy cunt wrapped around his dick.

🎀 showers with seonghwa are great. Until you need to take another one after he made a mess of you again after bending you over the sink.

🎀 yunho loves having you dress up for him. buying you all types of clothes and accessories to doll yourself up with just to fuck you in them later.

🎀 yeosang thinks you’re pretty all the time. but yeosang also thinks you look the prettiest when he deprives you of his cock. he loves watching you get all pouty and wordlessly beg for his cock.

🎀 lazy mornings with san usually lead to this. he can’t resist you, not when you sound so sweet for him. his only purpose right now is to make you feel good.

🎀 mingi loves to wake you up with his cock splitting you open. he adores how clueless you are when you first wake up only to melt into the pleasure as he pulls you closer.

🎀 wooyoung loves nothing more than feeling your gummy walls clench around his fingers while he abuses your sweet spot over and over. he’ll make you squirt and gush around him just bc he knows he can.

🎀 jongho loves how you feel like home to him. he’s got so much love in him that he needs to share it with you, the best way he knows how.

[yunniverse]

Warmth

౨ৎ PAIRING— choi san x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— fluff, established relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— mostly fluff, slight angst

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 1.0k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— san can’t sleep and you help him.

౨ৎ A/N— i hope you like it! feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading, lovelies! <3

You wake up slowly, your eyes adjusting to the light, as you instinctively reach toward your side, your hand coming in contact with the cold sheet.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you lift a hand to your face, rubbing your eyes as you yawn, trying to wake up. “San?” you mumble, checking the clock to your right, which reads 3:23 a.m.

With a small groan, you force yourself to sit up, shivering slightly when your barefeet touch the cool wood floor. “Sweetheart?” you question, wrapping your arms around yourself, starting to wish you’d chosen something more than shorts and a tank top to sleep in.

Walking down the hall, you start to wonder where your husband could be. This isn’t the first time he’s woken up in the middle of the night, but it worries you nonetheless.

“San?” you ask, peeking your head around the corner that leads to the balcony, which overlooks the ocean at the vacation house your staying in. A small smile grows on your face when you see San sitting in one of the chairs, wearing sweatpants and a white button up shirt, though none of the buttons are buttoned. He’s staring at the waves as they brush against the shore.

“Honey,” you call to him, stepping closer to gently place your hands on his broad shoulders, sliding them down to rest against his chest. “What’s wrong?”

San sighs, “Nothing, baby. Did I wake you?”

“You didn’t,” you respond softly. “But the empty bed did.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies, turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist. Even after being with him for so long, he still gives you butterflies everyday. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

“I figured,” you respond, resting your cheek against the top of his head, releasing a sigh. “Something on your mind?”

“I don’t know,” San frowns, shaking his head. “My mind just wouldn’t go to sleep.”

You nod against him, involuntarily shivering when a cool breeze blows across the beach. “Cold?” San asks, turning his head to look at you, as you nod, moving closer to him, basking in the small amount of warmth he provides. “You should go back to bed, baby.”

“Without you?” you pout, playing with one of the buttons on his shirt. “It’s cold in there too, especially without you.”

“I’ll only be out here for a little while longer,” San tells you, but you know he’ll probably sit out here until morning if he has his way.

“Sannie,” you slide your hands down a little further, leaning down to rest your chin against his shoulder. “You need rest. We didn’t come to this island so you could get even more exhausted.”

“I promise I’ll get some sleep,” he responds, gently tugging you around to the front of the chair, making you shiver at the lack of warmth.

He offers you a soft smile, his dimples showing, as he pulls you to stand between his legs, reaching up to cup your cheek with his hand, gently brushing his thumb across your skin.

“You don’t have to worry so much,” he whispers, making you sigh, shaking your head down at him.

“You know I will either way, San,” you respond, watching as he gives you a knowing smile. “Please come back to bed? Your thoughts can wait ‘til morning.”

“Tell my thoughts that, please,” San groans, frowning.

“Come on, sweetheart,” you coax, gently pulling him, even though you know you can’t get him up unless he wants to get up. “I know you don’t want to sit out here all night.”

“Alright,” San nods, giving in. “But only because I really am exhausted.”

“Whatever the reason, I’m just happy you’re agreeing,” you laugh as San quirks an eyebrow at you, his signature judging look on his face.

“Are you sure you don’t just want me there so you’ll be warm?” he questions, making you laugh, shaking your head at him.

“Of course not, honey,” you respond. “That’s just an added bonus.” San rolls his eyes playfully as you reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I really do hope you can rest tonight, Sannie.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he responds, flashing you a tired, but reassuring, smile as he closes the door to the balcony behind both of you.

“Like I said, I’ll worry either way,” you reply, gently pulling him along with you back to the bedroom.

“I really don’t think I’ll be able to get to sleep,” San tells you with a sigh as he slips off the button-up shirt. You watch him as he climbs into the bed beside you, his side dipping with his weight as you settle down next to him, rolling slightly to rest your hand against his chest, your hand moving to settle against his toned abs.

He hides his grin as you brush your thumb across his skin absentmindedly, probably not even realizing you’re doing it.

You’re tucked comfortable into his side as he wraps an arm around you, pulling the sheet up over the both of you. “I love you, San,” you whisper, resting your chin against his chest to look up at him.

“I love you too,” he responds with a wink, making you giggle, shaking your head at his silliness. Leaning toward him, you press a kiss to his lips, one he returns, kissing you softly. It never ceases to amaze you how gentle San’s kisses can be even if he’s in a bad mood.

“Goodnight, San,” you whisper, moving back to your original position, but not before pressing a soft kiss to San’s chest as well, making him hold you just a little bit tighter.

 “Goodnight, love,” he responds softly as you sigh contentedly, hoping San will be able to fall asleep once you do.

With the sound of the waves outside and the gentle, rhythmic thumping of San’s heartbeat, it’s not long before you find yourself drifting to sleep, but not before you make sure to keep brushing your thumb across San’s abs, hoping it’ll comfort him enough to get to sleep.

About fifteen minutes of fighting off sleep later, you dare to lift your head slightly, glancing at San’s face, pleasantly surprised to find his eyes closed peacefully, his breathing steady. Maybe you’d finally figured out what he needed to get to sleep. With a content sigh, you settle back into San’s side, happy his mind finally let him rest.

Moving just a little closer to San, you snuggle into his warmth, letting his heartbeat and the waves lull you to sleep.

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🎸 [ Rock my World. ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

[ Now we gon' be winning like that.. ]

Summary : Each member of the famous Rock Band Ateez has his own little romantic (or not so romantic) life, let me take you to experienece a whole other universe and Ateez than you know.

Warnings ➵ In every One Shot

Genre : Angst, Smut, Fluff, Slow Burn

Status : Coming Soon

《 Minors DNI 》

❝ Chapter Overview ᵕ̈

Kim Hongjoong -> Lead Singer

Park Seonghwa -> Lead Guitarist

Jeong Yunho -> Keyboarder

Kang Yeosang -> Keytar

Choi San -> Singer

Song Mingi -> Rhythm Guitarist

Jung Wooyoung -> Drummer

Choi Jongho -> Guitarist

[sugarfairyteez]

This or That?: BJ or HJ?

Pairing: Ateez x Reader

Warning: Involves mature content containing vulgar activities and language. Minors do NOT interact.

Includes:

Blow Job and Hand Job + Pet Names

Disclaimer: These are my opinions/imagination used here. Do not bash or advise me how it should’ve been wrote according to your standard. Respect my opinions and creations how they are written.

————————————————————————

HongJoong:

Blow Job

• He can never resist when you’re using your pretty mouth to pleasure him

• Intently watches

•Hypnotized by how his cock slides past your lips— it drives him absolutely insane

• Resists buckling his hips up in your mouth too much

• Praises in the softest tone ever— Dirty talks in the deepest, raspiest tone

• Growls when he close to releasing

• “Promise you’ll swallow it all for me doll?”

Seonghwa:

Hand Job

• Ravishes the feeling of your hand wrapped around his cock— it’s irresistible

• Sometimes will rut his hips in a way that makes his face scrunch in pleasure

• Loves it when you go at a steadier pace— he saviors every moment

• Will wrap his larger hand around yours to help guide you if you’re feeling lost

• Praises the living life out of you

• Goes absolutely ballistic watching his cum ooze over your hand

• “ Your hand looks so pretty glistening with my cum sweet angel~”

Yunho:

Hand Job (Preferably)

• Not too picky yet cannot resist the view of your tiny hand working on his huge girth

• Loses his composure every time you swipe your thumb over his fat leaking tip

• A sucker when you use both hands

• Mentions how tiny your hands looks wrapped around his cock

• Wouldn’t mind if you incorporated a little mouth action

• Compliments + Dirty Talk

• “Your hands look tiny wrapped around my cock Princess…How adorable~”

Yeosang:

Hand Job

• Flat out loves it when you give him a hand job

• Becomes easily flustered watching you take him with your hands

• Not too shy to dirty talk— hence, it makes you become the flustered one

• Soft curses with his deep voice

• Will rut his hips in your hands because he likes “fucking your hands”

• Whines slightly when he’s about to release

• “You love it when I move my cock in your hands, don’t you?”

San:

Blow Job

• Intense Blow Jobs for Choi San

• Intently watches you swallow his cock— he’s so engraved, he barely blinks

• Mutters swear words along with your name

• His composure will leave his body the moment he feels himself slipping down your throat

• Praises in one breath— Degrades in the next

• He will fuck your mouth in a slowed fashion to watch every inch of him slip in and out

• “Swallowing me whole like the good slut you are, aren’t you kitten?”

Mingi:

Blow Job + Hand Job

• Song Mingi simply cannot resist the combo

• Sanity leaves the moment your mouth joins to accompanied your hands (vice versa)

• Goes wild when he hears you moan around him— the vibrations make his head spin

• Will dirty talk your ears off

• The deepest sigh will come from him when he’s about to release

• Gives clear instructions on where he wants his cum to be

• “Gonna cum in your pretty little mouth this time. Understand?”

Wooyoung:

Hand Job (Plus Slight Blow Job)

• Similar to Yunho, he does not mind either one— yet, your hand jobs are truly special

• Giving his cock an occasional slight squeeze will make him growl

• Occasionally glance at you to capture your eyes focused on pleasuring his cock— adorable

• Will tell you to pick up the pace if that’s what he wants from you

• Throws his head back and rolls his eyes when he’s about to release

• Very bold to tell you if he wants you to finish him in your mouth

• “Need your mouth doll face. Wanna cum in it”

Jongho:

Blow Job or Hand Job

• Doesn’t have a picky bone in his body— he’ll take what you give him

• Intensely watches everything you’re doing

• Hand Jobs + occasional licks on his sensitive tip makes his eyes roll in the back of his skull

• Refrains not to wedge his dick down your throat every single time you decide to use your mouth

• Allows you to take control despite how shy you can be sometimes

• His voice gets softer when he’s about to cum

• “Just like this baby. That’s going to make me cum very soon~”

————————————————————————

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Aftercare w/ Ateez ♡

♡ Pairing: ot8!ateez x fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/suggestive/a lil drop smutty

♡ Warnings: mentions of sex/penetration, lots of physical affection, and a bunch of fluffy, lovey dovey vibes.

♡ A/N: This one's a request from a darling anon who wanted some Ateez aftercare so I'm here to deliver. I hope this is everything you wanted it to be, my love!

♡ Hongjoong ♡

Hongjoong loves nothing more than to shower you with words of praise and affirmation. When you’re done making love and you’re draped across the bed, your naked body beautifully displayed for him, he’ll start applying tender kisses to your lips, whispering to you how utterly magical you are. He’ll praise you for how good you were for him. How good you always are for him. His lips will lightly skim the softness of your skin, sprinkling kisses all over your body. Your breasts. Your belly. Your thighs. Right between your legs when your clit’s still sensitive from the night’s activities. The whole time repeating those praises like some sort of prayer. Praises that make you feel loved and safe and beautiful because you are.

♡ Seonghwa ♡

Seonghwa’s favorite way of caring for you is running you a nice candle lit bubble bath. He doesn’t get in with you, not because he doesn’t like the feeling of your body wet against his but because he lives to pamper you. He’ll sit on the edge of the tub, washing you up, taking his time to give proper attention to every part of your body, making sure his touch conveys the depth of is affection for you. He could spend all night watching the warm, soapy water drip down your body. And the way your breath hitches when he gets to your breasts, rubbing your still stiff nipples beneath his palms, drives him crazy every time. He wants you to feel as good as you do when you reach your high and his touch is more than enough to bring you right to the edge again.

♡ San ♡

San gives massages that could make a girl feel like she’s in heaven. His strong hands smoothing fragrant oils across your naked body as you lay there allowing your tense muscles to melt into his touch. He could chart his course around your body with his eyes closed. He’s done it a thousand times. He knows how to ride the curves of your hips, applying the perfect amount of pressure to bring that euphoric feeling back to your body. He’ll run his strong hands across your ass, soothing the sting of a few slaps he dished out in the heat of the moment earlier tonight. And no matter how many times he’s done it, it never gets old for him. He never gets tired of exploring your body and taking in all the ways it responds to him, letting him know that it loves him as much as he loves it. As much as he loves you.

♡ Mingi ♡

Mingi will find any excuse he can to keep his tongue down your throat and a shower together is the perfect opportunity to do it. When he guides you into the shower, his lips are at yours the entire time, his long arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close. The water always spends a minimum of five minutes just rushing over your bodies. It’s like kissing in the rain only infinitely more intimate. When your lips are tender and you’ve nearly run out of air he’ll finally let you go, turning you around to wash you up, starting with your hair. That man can massage a scalp so well you find yourself purring with pleasure. Don’t even get him started on your body. When it’s your turn to wash him he’s more than eager to let you. He’s addicted to your touch and savors every second that he can feel it.

♡ Jongho ♡

Jongho isn’t known as someone who’s big on physical touch but it’s a different story entirely when it comes to you. There’s nothing he loves more than to have you in his arms. Truly, nothing compares to the feeling of your skin pressed to his, your limbs intertwined as your head rests on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, feel how in sync it is with yours. He likes to kiss the top of your head, his fingers teasing the small of your back, trailing up your spine to set off sparks that leave you buzzing inside. It always pushes him to the point that he’s pulling you up and into an intoxicating kiss, the head of his cock teasing your clit the tiniest bit before he’s easing you back down, leaving you both hanging in that perfect space between arousal and serenity that keeps your mind all fuzzy in the best way. 

♡ Yunho ♡

Yunho started singing to you one night when Alexa decided she didn’t want to play your favorite song and it’s been a tradition ever since. When the night has been particularly long and your body’s lying limp in his arms, he’ll stare into your eyes like they’re as beautiful as the night sky, singing songs that make your heart flutter. He gazes at you so lovingly that you lose yourself in those warm brown eyes, feeling as wrapped up in them as you do his embrace. You always get so giggly when he leans in to kiss his way down your neck or along your collarbone. It’s like you can feel the melodies vibrating through your body, making parts of you sing that you didn’t even know had the capability to. Even if you’re exhausted, his voice awakens something inside of you that makes you want to risk it all and beg him to devour you all over again which he would gladly do.

♡ Yeosang ♡

Yeosang would stay up forever with you if you asked him to but, on those nights where he knows you need your rest, his favorite thing to do is take a nap with you. All wrapped up in a warm, cozy blanket, your favorite show or movie playing on the TV. He watches as you fall asleep, your breathing growing softer as you drift off to have the sweetest of dreams. Only then can he fall asleep too, dreaming of that quiet moment in the middle of the night where you’ll wake up again and plant kisses all over his face, your sleepy eyes barely open. He’ll wake up and kiss you back, kisses so sweet you can’t tell if you’re awake or if this is still a dream. Pulling you on top of him, he’ll explore your figure beneath the blankets, slipping inside of you once more, making love to you much gentler this time around. He’ll have to repeat the cycle of putting you to bed all over again but it’s not like he’s complaining. He never would. 

♡ Wooyoung ♡

Wooyoung keeps a fridge filled to the brim with your favorite snacks and he’s always excited to surprise you with that new one you keep saying that you wanted to try. Feeding you makes him so happy. Seeing the way you smile when you really love something, doing your little happy dance while you straddle his lap. It’s the cutest thing he has ever and will ever see. He’s sure of it. If there’s a crumb or a drop of anything on your lip it gives him the perfect excuse to kiss you, suckling at your soft lips as your fingers rake through his dark, velvety hair. He kisses you until the flavor of whatever you’ve eaten has faded, pausing to check in on you and see if you want more. More food? More kisses? More of him? More of whatever it takes to keep you feeling as good as you do at this moment. Whatever it is, it's yours.

[iannmin]

morning 9:05 — s.hwa | 박성화

pairing: seonghwa x reader wordcount: 0.4k

summary: both of you had a stupid fight, but all it took was the next morning to solve everything <3

a/n: just some realistic seonghwa drabble <3 feel free to leave a comment hehe, enjoy!

୨୧ ‘ masterlist ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

The morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting warm stripes of light across his figurine-filled room. I stirred, blinking groggily as the events of last night came rushing back to my mind—Seonghwa and I had been in the middle of a heated argument over something ridiculous, like who left the empty milk carton in the fridge.

I raised my head to see Seonghwa still asleep, his usually perfect hair sticking out in all directions, lips pressed into a thin line. He looked like a grumpy hedgehog (like the Able Sisters in animal crossing) and I couldn’t help but suppress a laugh, which somehow ended up as a snort. His grey pillow was half on the floor, back faced towards me with his black tee half ridden up, exposing his waistline.

I gingerly reached out and poked him in the side, tugging his shirt down in the process. “Hey, grumpy,” I said softly, trying to sound light-hearted. “You awake?”

He groaned, turning towards me, his eyes squinting open. “I’ve been awake for the last ten minutes, trying to figure out how to apologize without sounding like a complete idiot. I just didn’t bother moving.”

I chuckled, stretching my arms above my head. “Well, you’ve already got a good start. Your bedhead is pretty impressive.”

Seonghwa ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier. “Ah, great. I’m turning into a human mop. Just what I needed.”

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “I’m sorry about last night. I know it was silly.”

He looked at me with a mix of sheepishness and affection, that irresistible eye smile of his peeking right above the sheets. “I’m sorry too. We really let a milk carton ruin our evening, didn’t we? We were about to have a Lego date…” I nodded sheepishly. In that moment, I didn’t have any reason to be angry anymore.

He grinned, pulling me closer. “yeah, and you know, I really missed our cuddles this morning.”

Before I could respond, he wrapped his arms around my waist with an exaggerated sigh of relief. I tried to wiggle free, but he pulled me into a tight, playful hug, snuggling deeper into me. “No escape,” he said with a mock-serious tone. “I’m making up for all the snuggles I missed.” I laughed as he tucked me under his chin, my head resting against the crook of his neck. His hands slipped underneath the back of my pajamas, gently tracing circles on my bare back, his touch both soothing and affectionate.

Seonghwa let out a contented sigh, his breath warm against my hair. “I missed this. Just being close to you, without all the drama…..forgive me please?”

I couldn’t help but snuggle into him. “Alright, alright. I suppose I can forgive you, especially if you promise not to leave any more milk cartons lying around.”

“Deal,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But if I do, you’ll have to deal with my bedhead.”

I looked up at him, smiling. “I think I can manage that. After all, I kind of like your bedhead. It makes you look stupidly adorable.”

<3

[bunny-hwa]

Popular, Boy - Series Masterlist

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

Genre: +18, slow burn, angst, smut, drama, dark academic, love triangle.

General warnings: Cursing, verbal abuse, bullying, emotional manipulation, class disparity, power dynamics, toxic relationships, jealousy, mild alcohol and drug use, smut (MDN!!) Individual warnings for each chapter will be included.

Synopsis: When nerdy and desperate for acceptance, Kim Hongjoong pleads for your help to climb the social ladder. You see the opportunity to take advantage of him, and everytime you see him begging on his knees. You can't say no to him.

"That's your dream... to be popular?"

"Yes! I will lie for you, I will sell my soul for you, I... I'll kill for you, I will do anything for you. Just... please, please make me popular."

Release: 12.22.24

☆Join Popular, Boy Taglist: Here

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Chapters:

☆01: The first beg.

☆02: The first claim.

☆03: The first betrayal.

☆04: The first surrender.

☆05: The first fracture.

☆08: The first lie. Coming soon

☆06: The first move.

☆07: The first breakdown.

☆○☆○☆

All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.

[kairoot]

── 𝒮𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝒩𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠． 에이티즈 (HYUNG LINE.)

‧₊˚ 𝓼𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when your pregnancy prevents you from getting a good night’s rest 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : husband!ateez x pregnant! 𝑓．𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : fluff 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 : no 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : pet names, reader is slightly afraid of becoming a new parent, not proofread, lmk if I missed any !

— ( 𝓂𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑛’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 ) : ateez song reference in here somewhere 😫 pls leave reblogs, they are much appreciated !! ♡︎

hyung line’s headcanons under the cut ! ♡︎

໒˚⋆ 𝓀𝐡𝐣.

as you sit up in bed, you throw the duvet off of your body. you felt like you were melting and the growing human inside of you wasn’t making your state any better, the kicks growing more and more painful by the minute.

you tapped your phone, the screen lighting up immediately as the time read, ‘2:34’. you sighed, running a hand down your face, growing irritated at the restlessness that you felt.

after giving up on trying to sleep all together, you ventured to the room next to yours.

it was your husband’s home studio, to which he sat in at that very moment, one side of his headphones hanging off of his ear.

he hadn’t noticed you until your arms wrapped around him, resting your head on his shoulder.

he jumped slightly, removing the headphones, “babe? what are you doing awake?”

you moved your arms from around him, standing next to him as a hand came to rest on your growing belly.

“your baby’s like a champion soccer player in here.. also, the room is warmer than usual tonight.” you chuckled.

he smiled slightly, his eyes coming to meet your stomach. he placed his hand next to yours, feeling the constant thump.

“sunshine… are you hurting mama?” he asked in a soothing voice, the baby kicking in response. hongjoong chuckled, rubbing where his hand rested.

“careful with her, okay? she needs some sleep. and so do you.”

with that, he closed the notebook that he had been scribbling in before, placing his headphones elsewhere. he turned off the lights in the studio before leading you back to your room.

you both took your spots on the mattress, cuddling in close. hongjoong’s hand came to your belly once more, continuing to rub it gently. soon enough, the kicking had ceased and your eyes had fluttered shut.

joong smiled, kissing the top of your head.

“love you so much, pumpkin.”

໒˚⋆ 𝓅𝐬𝐡.

the floorboards creaked beneath your feet as you entered your kitchen, flicking the overhead light on. you sighed, the cool air giving you some relief from the warm air you felt in the bedroom.

you pulled the fridge open gently, not wanting anything to fall over. the only thing that seemed appetizing to you was the last bit of leftovers that you and hwa had from the other day. you grabbed it from the top shelf, taking it over to the oven to heat it up.

as you transferred your meal into an oven safe pan, you heard soft footsteps behind you, causing a smile to appear on your face.

a pair of warm arms wrapped around you, larger hands resting on your baby bump.

“what are you doing up so late?” seonghwa mumbled into your neck, voice low and raspy as his eyes remained closed.

“come back to bed, love..”

“your daughters’ up, so i’m up.” you chuckled, making him hum in response as he placed small kisses in the crook of your neck.

“she’s always up.. how do you sleep at night?” he asked, letting out a laugh.

“i don’t.” you shrugged.

he giggled once more, watching you prepare your meal.

“do you want me to help with that? i’ll put on our favorite romcom.”

you smiled, nodding, “yeah, but i wanna get my food first.”

“of course, baby.”

໒˚⋆ 𝒿𝐲𝐡.

the light from the tv brightened up your bedroom as you sat against the headboard, watching one of your favorite shows.

the bathroom door opened and your husband walked out, hair springing in random directions. his gaze turned to you, seeing you wide awake and not an ounce of tiredness in your eyes.

“honey?” he looked between you and the television for a moment.

“what’re you doing up? thought you were asleep..” he walked over to the bed, settling back in his spot and pulling the comforter over his legs.

you shook your head, “no, i’ve been awake for a few hours now. can’t sleep.”

yunho slid down in the bed so that he was lying on your belly. your bundle of joy seemed to know he was there, as you felt two kicks right where your husband had laid his head.

he giggled, placing a kiss on your belly.

“hi, baby,” he mumbled against it, placing another.

your baby kicked and kicked, getting excited at the sound of yunho’s voice. you smiled but winced at the force of the kicks.

“whoa, whoa, okay.” he rubbed where the kicks were, not wanting them to cause any more pain.

“you’re too excited, love bug. it’s very late.” he spoke to your baby quietly, trying to calm them down. and it seemed to work in a way, as you felt your baby move around a bit but eventually settle down.

“why don’t you try getting some sleep, baby? i know how tired you’ve been.” he looked up at you, smiling softly.

“but i can’t.” you pouted.

“how about i sing to you then, hm? would you like that?” he asked, continuing the gentle rubs on your belly.

you nodded, reaching down to play with his hair as you closed your eyes, waiting to hear his voice.

໒˚⋆ 𝓀𝐲𝐬. (i swear these are just yeo’s initals)

you sat in the nursery that everyone had helped make for the baby on the way, refolding clothes and reorganizing. you tried not to be loud, seeing as it was nearly 2am.

you had crept out of bed about 30 minutes before, your thoughts not letting you get a wink of sleep. you’d been so caught up in your thoughts, worried that you wouldn’t be the parent that you wanted to be when your baby arrived. you and yeosang were first time parents so you didn’t wanna mess things up.

as you sat on the floor, the door to the baby’s room had opened slightly, your husband peeking in to see you sitting down.

“babe?” he called softly.

you turned around quickly, not expecting him to be awake.

“yeo.. what’re you doing awake?” you asked. you could tell that he had just woken up, as he squinted his eyes, trying to adjust them to the dim light in the room.

“i should be asking you that.” he chuckled, entering the room and leaving the door cracked.

he took a seat next to you on the carpet, looking down at the pile of clothes you had folded.

“you bored or something?”

“no,” you laughed. “i just..”

he looked over at you now, letting you know that he was listening.

“i just don’t wanna mess things up, yeo.”

“what do you mean?”

you sighed, “i mean we’re first time parents. i just wanna make sure i’m doing what’s right for our baby.”

“honey,” he started, smiling, “yes this is our first time. so you know we’re bound to make mistakes, right? not everything will be perfect.”

you nodded in agreement, knowing he was right but you couldn’t help your overthinking.

“we’re a team, okay? you aren’t doing this alone, i’ll be with you.”

you didn’t respond to him verbally but just hugged him instead, silently thanking him. he held onto you tightly, rubbing your back and reminding you that everything would be fine.

᪥

TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @jungwonderz @enha-stars @dioll @jakesangel @cupidscourt @violetwitchmcu @haohaoshoe @randomgirl02228 @wonsdoll @powerpuffstuts @flwrstqr @elysianiki — send an ask to join.

[arilevenatz]

By Her Side

Pairing: Bodyguard! Mingi x princess!reader

Genre/trope: fluff, comedy (?), Modern royal au

Word count: 8.5k

Warnings: Age difference, reader is 10 years younger than Mingi, Mingi and reader first met when she was 10, but it was just cute relation back then, reader's hand gets burned. Lmk later if I missed something!

AN: phewww now this might not be for everyone guys. It's a risky trope for some people but because I have parental issues I'm fine with this. But if u still decide to read this after ignoring the warnings and then proceed to hate my work, I'm gonna delete and block you. That being said, enjoy Mingi being an absolute cutie

The Kang family had always been at the center of their nation’s identity, revered for their grace, strength, and modern leadership. Crown Prince Kang Yeosang, the epitome of royal perfection, was frequently seen fulfilling his duties with calm authority. The press adored him, and the people admired his unwavering commitment to the country.

But then, there was her—the mysterious younger sibling, the princess. Her name was only whispered in the media, her face hidden behind the shroud of privacy. She was unlike any princess depicted in the movies or books. She spent her days like an ordinary teenager, far removed from the royal spotlight, in oversized hoodies and sneakers. To her, the palace gates were more like walls keeping her in than protecting her from the outside world.

The princess rarely appeared at public events, and even when she did, the cameras were only granted fleeting glimpses of her, often from the side or with her head bowed. While the media speculated about her personality, the truth was far simpler—she just wanted a normal life.

To the world, she was Princess YN of the Kang family—a figure shrouded in mystery. But to the people who mattered, she was just YN. She attended a regular high school, sat in the same classrooms as everyone else, and blended into the crowd so seamlessly that most of her classmates often forgot about her royal title. She was the girl who shared notes, cracked jokes, and groaned about exams like everyone else.

Her friends treated her like one of their own, never bowing or tiptoeing around her. They teased her when she tripped in gym class and cheered her on during group projects. They knew who she was but never made it a big deal. She loved that.

What wasn’t so normal, however, was the tall figure who accompanied her everywhere—Mingi, her bodyguard. Dressed in unassuming clothes and rarely speaking unless needed, Mingi was her silent protector, always lingering at the edges of her life. Whether she was walking to school, grabbing ice cream after class, or spending hours at the library, Mingi was there.

He wasn’t just a bodyguard, though. To YN, he was more like a guardian, someone who quietly guided and watched over her. While her friends sometimes teased her about having her “personal watchdog,” she never minded. Mingi had been a part of her life for so long that she couldn’t imagine going anywhere without him.

During lunch breaks, while her friends chatted and laughed, Mingi often sat a few tables away, scrolling through his phone but always aware of her. When they walked home from school, she’d casually chatter about her day, and though Mingi’s replies were short, his presence was steady and comforting.

“I bet you think my math teacher hates me,” she said one day, munching on a bag of chips as they walked to her favorite bookstore.

“I don’t think he hates you,” Mingi replied, glancing at her. “But maybe stop arguing about every grade?”

She grinned. “Never. Someone has to keep him on his toes.”

“You’re going to give me gray hair before I’m 30,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“You’d look good with gray hair,” she teased, nudging him.

Moments like these made YN feel like the luckiest girl in the world. She might have been born into royalty, but with Mingi by her side, she got to live a life that felt wonderfully, perfectly normal.

How did they meet? Well the meeting was a bit chaotic.

It had been a quiet spring afternoon when ten-year-old YN first met Mingi. The palace halls were dappled with sunlight, and the faint hum of gardeners at work outside filled the air. YN, dressed in her favorite pale blue dress, sat in the corner of the grand library, building a lopsided tower of books. She was humming to herself when a knock interrupted her focus.

“YN,” the King’s voice came from the doorway, deep and steady as always, “I want you to meet someone.”

She turned, pushing her hair out of her face, and blinked at the tall figure standing beside her father. He was lanky but strong, with wide shoulders and a quiet confidence that seemed far too mature for someone who looked only a decade older than her. His black hair was neatly combed, and he looked stiff in his uniform—nervous, even.

“This is Song Mingi,” the King continued, his tone softer now. “He’s going to be your bodyguard from today onward.”

“Bodyguard?” YN tilted her head, confusion written all over her face. “Why do I need a bodyguard?”

The King smiled. “Because you’re very special, YN. And special people need someone to look after them.”

Mingi bowed deeply, his voice low but clear as he spoke for the first time. “It’s an honor to serve you, Your Highness.”

YN frowned, her gaze darting between her father and the stranger. “So… what does he do? Stand around and look boring?”

Her father chuckled, patting her head gently. “He’ll be here to keep you safe and help you with anything you need.” With that, the King left, leaving YN alone with the unfamiliar young man.

For the first few days, YN wasn’t quite sure what to make of Mingi. He followed her everywhere, always a step behind, silent and watchful. Whether she was in her room playing with her dolls, exploring the gardens, or eating her meals, he was there.

“Do you ever talk?” she asked him one day, spinning around to face him as he stood by the door to her room.

“If you want me to,” he replied simply, his voice calm.

“What’s the point of you being here if you’re just going to be boring?” she huffed, crossing her arms.

But things began to change after a few days. It started with little things—how Mingi always made sure her favorite snacks were on hand during study time, how he carried her books without being asked, or how he gently guided her away from muddy puddles in the garden without a word. When she tripped during a game of tag with her friends, Mingi was the first to rush to her side, kneeling to check her scraped knee.

“You’re not hurt badly,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “But let’s get this cleaned up.”

From that moment, something shifted. YN began to trust him. Soon, she found herself clinging to him more and more. She’d tug at his sleeve whenever she wanted something, ask him endless questions about his life, and insist he sit with her during meals, even if he tried to politely decline.

“Mingi, do you like chocolate or vanilla?” she’d ask, holding up two bowls of ice cream.

“Vanilla, I guess,” he’d reply, only for her to shove the bowl of chocolate into his hands with a grin. “Well, I like chocolate, so you’re eating this one.”

It wasn’t long before Mingi became the center of her little world. To her, he wasn’t just a bodyguard—he was a constant, someone who made her feel safe in a way she didn’t even realize she needed. She didn’t care about the circumstances that brought him to the palace, or that he was the son of a noble family that had fallen from grace. To her, he was simply Mingi, her guardian, her protector, and the one person she trusted with everything.

By the end of the first month, she was practically glued to his side. Wherever YN went, Mingi wasn’t far behind—and she made sure of it.

The palace soon became accustomed to the sight of YN clinging to Mingi like he was a second skin. Wherever she went, her tiny hands were either clutching his sleeve, gripping his uniform jacket, or reaching up to be carried. And Mingi, with his endless patience, always obliged her, no matter how exhausting her energy seemed to be.

One day, while attending a charity event with her parents, YN grew bored of the endless formalities. The long speeches and handshakes weren’t exactly ten-year-old-friendly. Spotting Mingi standing a short distance away, she made her way over to him, ignoring her mother’s disapproving glance.

“Mingi,” she whined softly, tugging at his sleeve. “I’m tired.”

He crouched down, his expression softening. “Want me to take you somewhere quieter?”

“Carry me,” she demanded, lifting her arms up dramatically.

Without hesitation, he scooped her up, balancing her effortlessly on his hip. She snuggled into his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. The cameras caught the moment almost instantly, flashes illuminating the hall as reporters whispered to each other. The next day, headlines were plastered across every paper: “Princess YN Finds Her Comfort in Her Shadow, Bodyguard Mingi!”

It didn’t stop there. The media couldn’t get enough of their dynamic. During a public library visit, YN decided to curl up in Mingi’s lap while reading one of her favorite picture books. It was an innocent gesture—she had always leaned on him as a source of comfort—but the sight of the princess slouched against the stoic bodyguard with her book upside down made the perfect photograph.

“Do you think you could sit any straighter?” Mingi teased in a low whisper, glancing down at her as she adjusted herself against him.

“Nope. I’m comfy,” she mumbled without looking up.

The royal PR team later joked that the image single-handedly made the entire nation collectively “awww.”

Another instance came during a school event. YN, participating in a relay race, tripped over her shoelaces midway. She wasn’t hurt, but her face scrunched up in frustration as the other kids raced ahead of her. Before anyone could step in, Mingi walked straight onto the track, kneeling beside her.

“You okay, Princess?” he asked gently.

“No!” she pouted. “I was winning!”

“Want me to carry you to the finish line?” he joked.

Her eyes lit up instantly. “Yes!”

Despite the protests of her teacher, Mingi picked her up, her arms looping tightly around his neck, and jogged to the finish line. The other kids laughed and cheered, and YN wore a smug grin for the rest of the day. The moment was, of course, caught on video and quickly went viral.

In quieter moments, their bond shone just as brightly. During long car rides to royal functions, YN would inevitably fall asleep against Mingi’s shoulder, her little body slouching into his side. No matter how cramped or awkward the position, Mingi never moved until she woke up, even if his arm went numb.

“Doesn’t she get heavy?” one of the royal aides once asked him, watching as Mingi carried a dozing YN into the palace after a long day.

“Not at all,” he replied simply, adjusting her slightly so she’d be more comfortable.

Mingi didn’t care about the headlines or the public perception. To him, YN wasn’t just his responsibility—she was his charge, his little princess. And to YN, Mingi wasn’t just her bodyguard. He was her rock, her protector, and the one person who never let go.

As YN grew older, her dynamic with Mingi evolved, but in many ways, it stayed the same. He was no longer the one carrying her around or fetching things for her—she had plenty of palace staff to do that—but Mingi remained her constant, her anchor, and most importantly, her best friend.

“Hey, Mingi,” she said one day, sprawled across the palace couch, flipping through her phone. “Can you believe someone asked me to bring them a cup of water today? Me. A princess. I mean, can you imagine?”

Mingi, who was sitting nearby with a book in hand, glanced at her, unimpressed. “You could’ve just gotten it for them.”

“I don’t think so.” She raised an eyebrow, smirking. “That’s what staff is for.”

He shook his head, hiding a small smile. “You’re impossible.”

“But you like me this way,” she quipped, tossing a cushion at him.

Mingi might have been her bodyguard, but to her, he was the one person in the palace who never treated her like royalty. He didn’t bow, didn’t rush to fulfill her every whim. And she liked that. She didn’t need to ask him for anything—he already gave her his loyalty, his protection, and his steady presence.

She didn’t hesitate to make the distinction clear to others, though. If anyone dared to suggest Mingi do something outside of his role, she was quick to shut it down.

“Mingi isn’t staff,” she’d say firmly. “He’s my friend. Get someone else to do it.”

Her other staff quickly learned that Mingi held a special place in her life, and they respected it. Meanwhile, YN never held back from treating him like a confidant. She’d drag him to her favorite places, tell him all her secrets, and share everything from her late-night worries to her wildest dreams.

“You know, sometimes I think you’re the only person who actually knows me,” she told him one evening as they sat in the palace garden.

“That’s because you talk my ear off,” Mingi teased, though his voice was warm.

“Well, someone has to listen,” she shot back with a grin, leaning her head against his shoulder.

And though Mingi never said it, he valued their friendship just as much. To him, she wasn’t just a princess—she was YN, his closest friend, the one person who treated him like family in a world that often felt far too formal.

It was a crisp winter evening, the kind where the cold seemed to seep into your bones despite the layers of warm clothing. The royal family stood on the grand balcony of the palace, gazing down at the crowd gathered for the annual winter gala. A sea of people, elegantly dressed in thick coats and scarves, murmured excitedly below, admiring the lights twinkling across the square.

YN stood near the railing, her eyes wandering over the scene, but she wasn’t paying much attention to the event itself. Instead, she was focused on the warm presence beside her. Mingi stood just behind her, always watchful, his dark coat blending with the night as he ensured she remained comfortable despite the chill in the air.

Every few moments, Mingi would glance down at YN, noting how her scarf had slipped a little, exposing her neck to the cold. Without a word, he gently adjusted it, making sure it was wrapped securely around her. YN barely noticed—she was used to it by now. Mingi’s careful attention to her every need had become second nature.

“YN,” Mingi’s voice cut through the soft hum of the crowd, “your scarf came loose again.”

YN sighed, her breath visible in the cold air, and shifted closer to him, her cheek grazing his coat as she stood slightly slouched against his side. She had grown used to his hovering, his need to ensure she was always warm and taken care of. It wasn’t annoying to her—it felt like normal.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the cold air, but she made no move to pull away from him. She liked the way Mingi was always there, always making sure she was safe and comfortable.

Mingi didn’t argue. He simply adjusted the scarf one more time, then slipped a small heat pack into her hands, holding one against her ear, knowing how much she hated the cold seeping into her sensitive skin. He didn’t even ask if she was okay. He just knew.

YN clutched the heat pack with both hands, pressing it against her ear, and looked up at him, offering a small, thankful smile. There was no need for words—Mingi's actions spoke for him. She wasn’t bothered by the constant attention, the way he fussed over her in the cold. To YN, it was just how things had always been, and she couldn’t imagine a winter night without Mingi there, making sure she was taken care of.

She let out a soft breath and leaned against his side, her body instinctively seeking the warmth he always provided. Mingi didn’t pull away. In fact, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her a little closer to shield her from the wind.

To the royal family, the people on the balcony, and the watching crowd, this was simply the expected sight—the princess, calm and composed, standing with her ever-vigilant bodyguard. But to YN, this was the norm. It wasn’t a chore or anything unusual. It was Mingi. Her best friend. Her protector. And for the first time, with the wind biting at her skin, she leaned into him even more, grateful for the comfort that only he could give.

The next morning, as YN sat in the grand dining room with her family, sipping on her warm tea, the morning papers were spread across the table. She glanced lazily at the headlines, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup absentmindedly. As usual, there was a flurry of royal gossip, but one headline caught her eye.

"Princess YN and Bodyguard Mingi: A Winter Night of Comfort and Protection"

She frowned, her brow furrowing as she skimmed through the article. Pictures of her and Mingi on the balcony the night before had been plastered all over the page—images of her clinging to his side, the heat packs in her hands, and Mingi adjusting her scarf. It was clear the media had turned their attention to their every move, almost as if they were trying to capture some deeper meaning behind their closeness.

“Why are they so obsessed with me?” YN asked, looking up at Mingi, who was quietly standing beside her, ever-watchful.

Mingi glanced at the newspaper but said nothing, instead focusing on adjusting the setting of her teacup. He knew what was coming.

“Well?” she pressed, looking up at him with wide, curious eyes. "I mean, it’s not like I did anything special. It’s just cold, and you were just… looking out for me.”

Mingi smiled softly, his expression gentle as he gave her a small nod. “You’re not just anyone, YN.”

She blinked, still not fully understanding. “But why? I’m just me.”

“That’s just it,” he said, kneeling beside her so they were eye-level. “You are a princess. People look up to you. They admire you for who you are, for everything you represent.”

YN’s brows furrowed even deeper, and she leaned back in her chair, trying to wrap her head around his words. She was so used to the quiet normalcy of her life that she had never truly realized how the world saw her.

She mumbled softly, tracing a line in the condensation on her teacup. “I don’t want all this attention. It feels so… weird.”

Mingi chuckled softly, his tone warm but reassuring. “It can be a lot, yes. But that’s just the way it is when you’re born into the royal family. You’re not just living for yourself. Your actions, your presence, it matters to people. They care about you because they see you as someone who represents the country, its hopes, its dreams.”

YN blinked, trying to absorb his explanation. “So it’s not because I’m cute or something?” she asked, her lips curling into a small, playful smile.

Mingi chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course, you’re cute. But it’s more than that. You’re the princess. The future of this kingdom.”

YN paused, staring down at her tea. She didn’t fully understand all of it, but there was something about the way Mingi explained it that made her feel both strange and important.

“You always say things that sound so serious,” she muttered, not quite grasping the weight of what he meant.

Mingi smiled at her, knowing how young and innocent her thoughts still were despite her royal title. “You don’t have to understand everything now. Just know that you’re more than you think you are. And that’s why people are watching.”

YN let out a sigh, her head drooping as she thought about it. “I guess I’ll have to get used to it, huh?”

Mingi nodded, giving her a light pat on the back. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

And even though she didn’t fully grasp the complexities of her status, YN knew that one thing would never change: Mingi would always be there by her side, keeping things normal, keeping things grounded—just like a friend.

A few days after the whole winter gala incident, YN and Mingi found themselves attending a royal charity dinner, an event full of formalities and stiff faces. YN, however, wasn’t one to enjoy the seriousness of these events. Her mind often wandered, especially when the speeches began. That evening, as she sat next to Mingi, her attention started to drift.

At first, she tried to occupy herself with her phone under the table, but her restless fingers quickly grew bored. She glanced over at Mingi, who was dutifully standing beside her, observing the guests with his usual focused expression.

“Hey, Mingi,” she whispered, poking him lightly in the ribs. “Do you think the soup is too hot? Or do you think they put something weird in it?”

Mingi glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean by ‘weird’?”

“Like… I don’t know,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “What if they secretly put... chocolate in it?”

Mingi chuckled, clearly amused by the absurdity of her thoughts. “YN, don’t be silly. Chocolate in soup is—”

But before he could finish, YN's mischievous grin appeared. She leaned over toward him and whispered in a stage whisper, “What if we just sneak a taste? You know, just to see if it’s chocolate or not.”

Mingi looked at her in disbelief. “YN—no, we’re not sneaking food under the table.”

But that was exactly what she was about to do. Without further hesitation, YN grabbed her spoon from the table and casually dipped it into the bowl of soup, all while trying to act as if she were merely adjusting it. The only problem was, she hadn’t quite thought it through. As she tried to raise the spoon to her lips, she accidentally splashed some of the soup onto her dress.

“Oops,” she muttered, trying to cover the small spill by quickly wiping it with her napkin.

Mingi, ever the protector, quickly leaned in to help, but the moment he did, he accidentally knocked his own drink—an expensive glass of red wine—right onto YN’s lap.

“Ah! Mingi!” she yelped, wide-eyed. The wine spread across her dress in an instant.

The room went silent for a moment, and YN couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Oh my god, what did you do? You just exploded my lap with wine!”

Mingi looked horrified, his face flushed. “I’m so sorry, Princess, I didn’t—”

“Don’t worry,” she interrupted, still giggling. “At least the wine looks kind of fancy, right?”

Mingi quickly grabbed some napkins and tried to dab away the mess, but YN was now laughing so hard that she could hardly keep her composure.

“What’s going on over there?” someone whispered nearby.

“Oh, nothing,” YN said between fits of laughter. “Just Mingi trying to drown me in wine and soup.”

Mingi shot her an exasperated look, but even he couldn’t hold back a smile. “You’re impossible.”

The rest of the evening went on with everyone around them trying hard not to giggle at the mess they had unintentionally made. And though YN’s dress was ruined, it was just another one of those funny moments that felt normal between the two of them—a princess and her overprotective bodyguard, who never seemed to do anything quite by the book.

One afternoon, as YN lounged lazily in the palace, scrolling through her phone, she noticed Mingi, who had just returned from his usual workout. The sight of him, all flushed from his session and wiping sweat from his forehead, made her pause mid-scroll.

Her mind, never short of strange ideas, suddenly lit up with a random, ridiculous thought.

What if... she mused, a mischievous glint appearing in her eyes. What if I swing from his biceps?

Without a second thought, she stood up and walked casually toward the workout area where Mingi was cooling down with some stretches. His attention was focused entirely on his breathing, unaware that YN was about to disrupt his hard-earned relaxation.

“Mingi,” she said in the sweetest tone she could muster, stepping into his personal space, “I’ve been thinking.”

Mingi, still slightly out of breath, raised an eyebrow, giving her a suspicious look. “Uh-oh. That’s never good.”

“No, no,” she said, holding up her hands in mock innocence. “It’s a good thought. A very good one.”

He groaned. “What are you plotting now, YN?”

She grinned widely, moving closer and without warning, gently tugging on his arm. “I want to swing from your biceps.”

There was a long pause, and Mingi blinked in disbelief. “What?”

“You heard me,” YN said with a shrug, grinning even more mischievously.

“Do you want me to install a swing in the garden for you?” Mingi asked hesitantly.

“No! I’ve seen you working out so hard, and I’m curious. You look strong enough. Come on, just once. Let me swing from your biceps.”

Mingi, still processing what she said, stared at her for a moment. Then, without much else to do, he rolled his eyes and sighed, but there was a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You know, this is the weirdest request you’ve ever made.”

“I know, right?” YN said, bouncing on her feet in excitement. “But come on, you owe me for making me stay in all these boring royal events.”

Mingi could only shake his head in disbelief, giving in because he knew YN was never going to let it go. “Fine, fine. But if you hurt yourself, I’m not responsible.”

“Deal!” she said, her voice full of joy.

With one smooth motion, she jumped toward him, wrapping her arms around his thick bicep. He flexed slightly, just enough to lift her off the ground, and YN squealed in delight as she swung from his arm like a monkey.

“See? This is fun!” she exclaimed, giggling wildly.

Mingi stood there, still holding her with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “You are ridiculous.”

“I know,” YN grinned, her legs swinging back and forth. “But it’s a good kind of ridiculous, don’t you think?”

“You’re lucky I work out so much,” Mingi muttered, though there was affection in his voice.

“Thank you!” she laughed, then swung once more before jumping down. “This was exactly what I needed.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

But YN didn’t mind. She was already back to lounging, her weird request fulfilled. Mingi might have had his personal workout time invaded, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but smile at how his friendship with YN always kept things unpredictable—and oddly fun.

It was a sunny afternoon, and YN was feeling particularly adventurous—or rather, particularly bored. Mingi had been called to attend a brief meeting with the palace security staff, leaving her to her own devices. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue, but YN being YN, boredom wasn’t something she handled gracefully.

She decided to take matters into her own hands.

“I don’t need Mingi for everything,” she muttered under her breath, determined to prove that she could function just fine on her own. “How hard can it be to make a cup of tea or something?”

She strolled into the palace kitchen, glancing around at the unfamiliar appliances and shiny surfaces. She had seen Mingi brew tea for her countless times before—it looked easy enough. She grabbed a kettle, filled it with water, and placed it on the stove. With a smug grin, she flicked the stove on and waited.

Moments later, the kettle started whistling, and YN panicked. “Oh no, it’s screaming at me!” she yelled, fumbling with the knobs. Instead of turning the stove off, she accidentally turned it higher. The whistle got louder, and in her panic, she grabbed the kettle with her bare hands.

“HOT! HOT! HOT!” she shrieked, flailing her hands and dropping the kettle back onto the stove with a loud clang.

Hearing the commotion, several staff members rushed into the kitchen, only to find the princess standing there, her cheeks flushed, holding her now slightly red hands.

“Your Highness, are you alright?” one of them asked, clearly concerned.

“I’m fine,” YN grumbled, glaring at the offending kettle. “This thing just hates me.”

Before the staff could offer assistance, the door to the kitchen burst open, and in strode Mingi, looking mildly out of breath and thoroughly unimpressed.

“What is going on here?” he asked, his voice low and calm, but his eyes scanning her for injuries.

YN froze, caught red-handed—literally. “Nothing,” she said quickly, hiding her hands behind her back.

Mingi crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing? Because it doesn’t sound like nothing. It sounds like someone decided to play chef without supervision.”

“I was just trying to make tea,” she muttered, pouting. “How hard can it be? You do it all the time.”

Mingi sighed, stepping closer and gently pulling her hands into view. He inspected her reddened palms, his frown deepening. “You burned yourself.”

“It’s just a tiny burn,” she protested.

Without a word, Mingi grabbed a small first-aid kit from the counter, pulled her to a nearby chair, and sat her down. As he carefully applied some ointment to her hands, YN watched him silently, feeling both guilty and oddly comforted.

“You’re not allowed in the kitchen alone anymore,” Mingi said firmly, wrapping a bandage around her hand.

“But I was just trying to—”

“YN,” he interrupted, looking her straight in the eye. “You are truly hopeless without me.”

She opened her mouth to argue but then closed it again, realizing he wasn’t wrong. “Fine,” she muttered, leaning her head on his shoulder dramatically. “I guess I do need you for everything.”

Mingi chuckled softly, his expression softening. “That’s what I’m here for.”

From then on, YN stayed far away from the kitchen—unless Mingi was there to supervise. And though she occasionally teased him for being overprotective, deep down, she knew she wouldn’t have it any other way.

It was a chilly, overcast morning, the kind where the sky hung low and gray, promising rain at any moment. YN sat with her group of friends in the school common area, bundled up in her scarf and coat. The conversation drifted from homework to weekend plans, and finally, as it often did, to crushes and dream weddings.

“I think I’d want someone who’s athletic,” one friend said, her cheeks pink as she laughed.

“Yeah, but he also has to be super smart,” another added.

“What about you, YN?” one of them asked, leaning in with a teasing grin. “You never talk about this stuff. Who’s your dream guy?”

YN blinked, caught off guard by the question. Normally, she’d deflect with a joke or tease them back, but today, she hesitated.

Her friends stared at her expectantly, but instead of conjuring up a romantic fantasy, her mind went somewhere else entirely—to Mingi.

She thought of how he always stood by her, carrying her heavy school bags without complaint. How he remembered to pack her favorite snacks on long days and made sure she had an umbrella when the sky threatened rain, just like today. How his steady, quiet presence had been the one constant in her life for as long as she could remember.

But then, like a sudden gust of wind cutting through the chill, another thought hit her: One day, I’ll have to leave him behind.

Her stomach twisted. She wasn’t like her friends, free to imagine marrying their crushes or choosing their own futures. She was a princess, bound by duty. One day, she’d be expected to marry someone suitable—a prince or nobleman chosen by her family, someone who fit the royal image. And Mingi… Mingi would remain as he was, her protector, her shadow. But never more.

The thought felt like a weight pressing down on her chest, and she didn’t know why it hurt so much.

“YN? Hellooo?” her friend waved a hand in front of her face, snapping her out of her daze.

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” YN mumbled, forcing a small smile. “I was just… thinking.”

Her friends exchanged amused looks, laughing lightly. “Thinking about your crush, huh?” one teased.

“Something like that,” YN muttered, though her heart wasn’t in it. She laughed along with them, but the unease in her chest lingered for the rest of the day.

The school bell rang, signaling the end of the day, and YN packed her things slowly, her thoughts still clouded from the earlier conversation with her friends. The idea of leaving Mingi someday had weighed heavily on her throughout the day, and she couldn’t shake it.

As she exited the school building, there he was, as always—Mingi. He leaned casually against the sleek black car, dressed in his usual suit, an umbrella in hand just in case it rained again. His watchful eyes immediately softened when they met hers, and he straightened up, opening the car door for her.

“Rough day?” he asked, noticing the faint frown on her face as she approached.

YN didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she stood there for a moment, looking at him, her thoughts racing. She thought about how he was always there, waiting for her, protecting her, ensuring she never had to worry about anything. And the idea of losing that—of losing him—was unbearable.

“Mingi,” she said suddenly, her voice firm but her eyes filled with emotion.

He blinked, surprised by her tone. “Yes?”

“I’ve decided,” she said, stepping closer to him, her hands clutching the straps of her backpack. “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

Mingi tilted his head, confused by her sudden declaration. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean it,” she continued, her words tumbling out impulsively. “If I have to marry someone, it’ll be you.”

There was a brief, stunned silence as Mingi processed her words. His eyes widened slightly, and for the first time in a long while, he looked genuinely flustered.

“YN,” he started, his voice gentle but firm, “you can’t just—”

“I’m serious!” she interrupted, her cheeks flushing but her gaze unwavering. “Why should I marry some random prince or noble when you’re the one who’s always been there for me? You’re the one who takes care of me, who knows me better than anyone else. Who else would I want by my side?”

Mingi exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words. He crouched slightly so they were at eye level, his expression softening.

“YN,” he said carefully, “I’ve been by your side since you were a kid. My job is to protect you and make sure you’re safe. That’s what I’m here for. But marrying me?” He shook his head lightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “That’s not how it works.”

“But why not?” she pressed, her voice quieter now but still determined. “I don’t care about what’s ‘supposed’ to happen. I just… I don’t want to lose you, Mingi.”

His expression softened even more, and he placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “You’re not going to lose me,” he said firmly. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be here. That’s a promise, remember?”

YN bit her lip, her shoulders relaxing slightly at his reassurance. “You better mean it,” she muttered, her cheeks still pink.

“I do,” he said with a quiet chuckle, straightening up and opening the car door again. “Now, come on. Let’s get you home before you decide to propose to me in front of the whole school.”

She let out a small laugh, climbing into the car, her heart feeling a little lighter. As they drove away, YN glanced at Mingi through the rearview mirror, her mind still replaying their conversation.

That evening, after they arrived back at the palace, YN couldn’t keep the thoughts swirling in her head any longer. As soon as dinner was over, she excused herself and marched straight to her father’s study.

The king was sitting at his large oak desk, reading through a stack of documents when she entered without knocking—a habit he often teased her about but secretly adored. Her mother, the queen, was seated on the nearby couch, sipping tea as she reviewed her own set of papers. Both of them looked up in surprise when YN stood before them, her face set with determination.

“Father, Mother,” she started, her voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in her chest, “I need to talk to you about something important.”

The king raised an eyebrow, setting down his pen. “What is it, my dear? You look serious.”

“I’ve been thinking about the future,” she said, clasping her hands together. “About how one day, I’ll have to marry someone. But I don’t want to marry some stranger or someone chosen just because of their title. I want… I want Mingi.”

The room went silent, the words hanging heavy in the air.

The queen blinked, clearly taken aback. “Mingi? As in your bodyguard?”

YN nodded firmly. “Yes. He’s been there for me my whole life. He’s the one who truly knows me, who understands me. I don’t see why I have to marry someone else just because it’s tradition. It’s not fair.”

The king leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful but hesitant. “YN, you know we’ve always respected your opinions and wishes. But this… This isn’t something we can decide so easily. Mingi is—”

“—not a royal,” the queen finished gently, though her tone carried a note of concern.

“I don’t care about that!” YN interrupted, her voice rising slightly. “Why does it matter? Times have changed, haven’t they? People don’t care about traditions as much as they used to. They care about love and happiness. And I know what I want.”

The king exchanged a glance with the queen, both of them clearly unsure how to respond.

It was then that the door opened, and Yeosang stepped in, his brows furrowed as he looked between his parents and YN. “What’s going on?” he asked, sensing the tension in the room.

“She wants to marry Mingi,” the queen explained, her voice laced with a mix of disbelief and worry.

Yeosang’s eyebrows shot up, and then, much to everyone’s surprise, he smiled slightly. “Well, why not?”

“Yeosang!” the queen said, shocked by his response.

“Mother, Father,” Yeosang said calmly, stepping closer, “it’s not the old days anymore. Things are different now. People won’t revolt just because the princess marries someone who isn’t royal. In fact, they’ll probably love it. You’ve seen how the media adores her bond with Mingi. They’d see it as proof that she’s grounded, that she cares about real connections instead of outdated customs.”

The king frowned, clearly conflicted. “It’s not just about the public, Yeosang. It’s about the responsibility, the image, the—”

“The happiness of your daughter,” Yeosang interrupted gently but firmly. “Shouldn’t that come first?”

YN looked at her brother, her eyes wide with gratitude. She hadn’t expected him to stand up for her so strongly, and it gave her a surge of hope.

The queen sighed, looking at her husband. “He’s not wrong, you know. But… it’s still hard to let go of traditions we’ve followed for so long.”

The king rubbed his temples, clearly torn. After a long pause, he looked at YN. “This isn’t a decision we can make overnight. But… if this is truly what you want, we’ll consider it. Just give us some time.”

It wasn’t a definitive yes, but it wasn’t a no either. YN’s heart swelled with a mix of relief and hope.

“Thank you,” she said softly, bowing slightly before leaving the room.

As YN left the study, her thoughts still buzzing with hope and relief, she heard familiar footsteps behind her. She turned to see Yeosang following her down the grand hallway, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

“What?” she asked, stopping in her tracks and raising an eyebrow at him.

Yeosang sighed, motioning for her to keep walking as he fell into step beside her. “I need to talk to you,” he said, his tone calm but firm.

She rolled her eyes. “If you’re going to tell me I’m being ridiculous, don’t bother. You already supported me in front of Mother and Father.”

“I did,” Yeosang agreed, glancing at her. “But only because I’m tired of those outdated customs, too. And because, if anyone deserves you, it’s Mingi. He’s practically perfect for you.”

YN blinked in surprise at his honesty, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Really? You think so?”

“Yes, I do,” he admitted with a shrug. “He’s loyal, reliable, and has been by your side for years. I know he’d do anything to keep you safe and happy. That’s the kind of person you need in your life.”

Her smile grew, but before she could thank him, he stopped walking and turned to face her, his expression more serious now.

“But, YN,” he said firmly, “you’re still too young to make decisions like this.”

Her smile faltered. “What do you mean? I know what I want.”

“You think you do,” he replied, his tone gentle but unyielding. “But you’re only a teenager. Marriage isn’t just about liking someone or thinking they’re a good person. It’s a huge commitment, and it comes with responsibilities you can’t even imagine right now.”

“I’m not saying I want to marry him tomorrow,” she argued, crossing her arms. “I’m just saying that when the time comes, it should be my choice. And I chose Mingi.”

Yeosang sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I get it. You’ve grown up with him. He’s been like your rock, your anchor. It makes sense that you’d feel this way. But you need to take a step back and really think about what you want in life—not just right now, but years from now.”

YN frowned, her arms dropping to her sides. “You don’t think I’m serious?”

“I think you’re serious,” he said honestly. “And I think your feelings are valid. But feelings change, YN. And you’ve got so much time ahead of you to figure out what you really want. All I’m saying is, don’t rush into something just because it feels right now.”

She looked down at the floor, his words sinking in. As much as she hated to admit it, Yeosang had a point. She was still young, and the future felt like a vast, uncharted sea.

“I just… I don’t want to lose him,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You won’t,” Yeosang reassured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Mingi’s not going anywhere. You’ve got time, YN. Don’t let fear make you rush into a decision. Trust that the right moment will come when it’s meant to.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze still fixed on the floor. “Thanks, Yeosang. I… I’ll think about what you said.”

He smiled faintly, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “That’s all I ask. Now, go get some rest. You’ve caused enough chaos for one day.”

She laughed lightly, the weight on her chest lifting just a little. As she walked away, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for her brother’s honesty and support. Even if she didn’t have all the answers yet, she knew she had time—and the people who cared about her to guide her along the way.

The sound of tennis balls being hit back and forth echoed through the royal court the next morning. Yeosang and Mingi were engaged in a competitive match, their banter as sharp as their serves. Despite the casual atmosphere, Mingi could sense there was something on Yeosang’s mind.

“Nice shot,” Yeosang said as Mingi delivered a powerful forehand that he barely managed to return.

“You’re getting slow, Yeosang,” Mingi teased, smirking as he prepared for the next serve.

“Not slow,” Yeosang retorted, adjusting his stance. “Just distracted.”

Mingi raised an eyebrow but said nothing, focusing on his serve. He sent the ball flying across the court, and Yeosang returned it with surprising force. The rally continued for a while before Yeosang finally missed, and Mingi stepped forward, spinning his racket casually.

“All right,” Mingi said, tilting his head. “What’s on your mind?”

Yeosang sighed, walking to the side to grab his water bottle. “It’s YN,” he said simply.

Mingi tensed slightly but kept his expression neutral. “What about her?”

Yeosang took a sip of water, then leaned against the net, looking directly at his friend. “She told me last night that she doesn’t want to marry anyone but you.”

Mingi froze for a split second before letting out a quiet sigh. “I know,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “She told me the same thing yesterday.”

Yeosang raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “And?”

“And… I told her that’s not how it works,” Mingi said firmly, his voice calm but resolute. “She’s still young. She doesn’t fully understand what she’s saying. It’s just… attachment. She’s known me her whole life, so she thinks I’m the answer to everything.”

Yeosang studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You’re probably right,” he said eventually, setting his bottle down. “But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s serious about how she feels.”

Mingi sighed again, sitting on the bench and resting his elbows on his knees. “I know. And that’s what worries me. I don’t want her to make decisions she might regret later. She’s a princess, Yeosang. Her life is already so complicated, and she deserves better than—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Yeosang interrupted, walking over to stand in front of him. “If you’re about to say she deserves better than you, don’t. Because it’s not true.”

Mingi blinked, clearly taken aback. “Yeosang, I’m just her bodyguard. You really think—”

“I think you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met,” Yeosang said firmly, crossing his arms. “And I think my sister deserves someone who will treat her with the care and respect you’ve shown her every single day of her life. Do I think she’s too young to be thinking about marriage? Yes. But do I think you’re a bad choice? Absolutely not.”

Mingi stared at him, stunned into silence.

Yeosang smirked, amused by his friend’s rare speechlessness. “Honestly, I expected you to freak out more when I brought this up. But it seems like you’ve already thought this through.”

“I have,” Mingi admitted quietly. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since she first mentioned it. I just… I don’t want to cross any lines. My job is to protect her, not—”

“Not fall in love with her?” Yeosang finished, his tone teasing but not unkind.

Mingi’s eyes widened slightly, and he looked away, unsure how to respond.

Yeosang chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Relax, Mingi. I’m not here to tell you to stay away from her. If anything, I’m telling you the opposite. Just… don’t rush anything. Let her grow up, figure things out for herself. If this is meant to be, it’ll happen in time.”

Mingi looked up at him, his expression softening. “You really mean that?”

“I do,” Yeosang said with a small smile. “You’re my friend, Mingi. And more importantly, you’re someone I trust. I know you’ll do what’s best for her.”

Mingi nodded, his chest feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time. “Thanks, Yeosang.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Yeosang said with a smirk, grabbing his racket. “Now, let’s finish this game. I’m not letting you win just because we had a heartfelt moment.”

Mingi laughed, standing up and grabbing his racket. “We’ll see about that.”

As they returned to the court, Mingi couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of responsibility. Whatever the future held, he would make sure YN was happy—whether that meant staying by her side as her bodyguard or something more. For now, he’d take it one day at a time.

Months passed, and YN’s relentless determination, along with Yeosang’s support, slowly melted her parents’ hesitation. It wasn’t an easy road, but the Kang family eventually came to terms with the idea. The modern world was changing, and so were the rules of royalty. What mattered most was YN’s happiness, and it was clear that her bond with Mingi was unbreakable.

One crisp autumn morning, YN was called into the royal study. Her parents were there, seated at the same desk where she had once pleaded her case. Yeosang stood beside them, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“We’ve discussed it,” the king began, his tone gentle but formal. “And we’ve decided that if this is truly what you want, YN, we will support your choice.”

For a moment, she just stared at them, her mind struggling to process the words. Then, as the realization hit her, her face lit up with pure, uncontainable joy. “Really?” she exclaimed, her voice trembling with excitement.

The queen smiled softly. “Yes, really. We only want you to be happy.”

Before they could say anything else, YN bolted out of the room, her heart racing as she ran through the palace halls. She knew exactly where to find Mingi—in the training grounds, where he often started his mornings.

As she burst into the training yard, Mingi was mid-swing, sparring with another guard. He paused when he saw her, his brow furrowing in concern. “Princess? What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer right away, instead running straight to him and grabbing his hands. Her grin was so wide it almost hurt, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. “They said yes!” she blurted out.

Mingi blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“My parents! They said yes!” she repeated, practically bouncing on her feet. “They’re okay with it—with us! You don’t have to just be my bodyguard anymore. We can actually—”

Her words were cut off as Mingi let out a soft laugh, his shoulders relaxing as relief and happiness washed over him. “They really said that?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, squeezing his hands tightly. “We don’t have to hide how we feel, or worry about traditions, or anything. They’re okay with it!”

Mingi smiled down at her, his heart swelling with emotions he could barely put into words. “I’m happy for you, YN. For us.”

She laughed, the sound bright and carefree. “You’re happy? Mingi, I’m the happiest person alive right now! I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy!”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re something else, Princess.”

“Of course I am,” she said playfully, sticking her tongue out at him. “Now come on, we have to celebrate! Ice cream, movies, anything you want—just name it!”

Mingi laughed again, letting her excitement wash over him. “Whatever you want, YN. Today’s your day.”

As they walked back toward the palace, YN chattering excitedly about all the plans she wanted to make, Mingi couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. He’d always been content just being her protector, her shadow. But now, as he looked at her radiant smile and heard her joyful laughter, he realized that being by her side in this new way was more than he’d ever dreamed of.

For YN, the future felt brighter than ever. And for Mingi, there was no place he’d rather be than right there beside her, no matter what came next.

Taglist: @jonghosbrainrot

[lani-heart]

CIRCUS || ATEEZ ot8 || masterlist

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ateez ot8 x reader warning(s) -> abuse, eating disorder, mentions of mental / physical health, cursing, smut, explicit language / scenes, etc.

abstract -> forced to adopt a hybrid becomes harder than the reader anticipated. in which she'll encounter eight troubled and challenging hybrids to take care of. will she be able to handle it?

-> uploading will start on december 04. 2023

-> taglist closed !!

saving a panther and a fox chapter 00. -> adoption center chapter 01. -> rehabilitation chapter 02. -> hybrid activist side story -> admiration side story -> mine ( 18+ ) side story -> abandoned side story -> pervert ( 18+ ) side story -> our pet ( 18+ )

saving a doberman chapter 03. -> drunk amnesia chapter 04. -> my angel side story -> learning side story -> corruption ( 18+ ) side story -> competition ( 18+) side story -> triggers

saving two tigers chapter 05. -> infiltration chapter 06. -> interviews chapter 07. -> crime scene chapter 08. -> black codes chapter 09. -> adapting to five hybrids side story -> protagisnist side story -> pampered side story -> frustration ( 18+ ) side story -> bet ( 18+) side story -> matz show ( 18+ ) side story -> treatment side story -> five hybrids

saving a wolf and a golden retriver chapter 10. -> trapping thieves chapter 11. -> fostering chapter 12. -> week of hell side story -> therapy side story -> insatiable ( 18+ ) chapter 13. -> case closed chapter 14. -> trouble chapter 15. -> beef or chicken side story -> outlier side story -> wet dreams ( 18+ ) side story -> kink unlocked ( 18+ ) side story -> switching roomates side story -> triggers prt.2

saving a bear chapter 16. -> reunions chapter 17. -> repaying debts side story -> maknae side story -> apples ( 18+ ) side story -> dynamics chapter 18. -> eight hybrids chapter 19. -> finale

BACKGROUND INFORMATION / ANON QUESTIONS / EXTRAS How human are hybrids in Circus? Do hybrids have two sets of ears ? How does the world work in Circus ? How does the world work in Circus ? Prt. II How does the color rank work? Prt II

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

NON-CANON ANON QUESTIONS YeoWooSan's children

if you would like to be on the taglist please send an ask or comment under this post. If you message me there might be a chance I don't see if and if you ask on another post such as in one of the chapters it'll be hard to keep up with.

the taglist is closed im no longer taking any more tag requests, the tags are also gonna only be on the chapters to make updating the masterlist easier for me but those who are tagged don't worry

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[itstheghostofmypast]

Awake - (Hyung Line)

separate members Ateez x (F)Reader

Summary: You went to sleep after a HUGE (not really) fight, only, when you went to sleep you were alone, not in the comforting arms of your lover.

Genre: Hurt + Comfort

Rating: PG-17

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 4.2k

Est.Read Time: 21 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

Maknae Line: Here

A/N: A special thank you to my one and only @edenesth , for helping me out with this- I swear for the life in me Yeosang still confuses me and Hwa seems to sweet to argue with (yeah i know that aint true) .I'll be updating my requests soon and uploading the next chapter of meow soon, too!

Kim Hongjoong

Waking up next to Hongjoong was as rare as going to bed with him. Considering he'd come to bed at an ungodly hour, unlike you, and leave at an ungodly hour, waking up way before you did- in theory, however, the man barely slept four hours. Then there were times when he'd choose to stay at the studio or the dorm. So often, you'd receive a text about his location and that was it- and for so long it was okay- until it wasn't. 

There's no real reason or premise behind how it started, but all she remembers is that he had come home in the middle of the night, and ironically she had been watching a film at the time. Now, the reaction could've been sweet, could've been filled with love, but the words had left her sooner than she could stop them, 

"You know, you should really take care of yourself too."

That was all it took for him to stare at her blankly before turning around and slamming the door shut behind him, leaving her wincing in regret on the couch, the same very couch she had cried on, lying across its expanse, trying to get in touch with him through text or call, only for her tears to dry up and eyes to close, falling asleep on the couch.

What you did not expect was to wake up in your bed, on your back blinking up at the ceiling, shades of golden seeping through the cracks of the curtains, illuminating the dancing specs across the room. With a heavy sigh you turned your head to glance at the usual empty side  when you were greeted by an unusual sight. The same blonde man you had cried your heart out for last night was laying there, knocked out cold, lips slightly parted, hands folded on his belly as he lay on his back- Hongjoong was one weird dude. With a sigh you turn to lay on your side, staring at him, taking in his tired features, the dark circles under his eyes, his chapped lips, the way his brows were slightly furrowed. God, you definitely loved an idiot.

Taking a few more minutes, you thought to yourself, before letting out a sigh, at least he was home now, at least he was resting. With that in mind, you slowly pushed yourself up, sitting up and rubbing your face, trying to erase the remnant traces of sleep. You were about to slip out of bed when something tugged at your shirt, causing you to turn to lock eyes with your sleepy love, his gaze filled with some form of remorse and guilt.

“Don't…go.” his hoarse voice rasped across the silent room, her shoulder slumped at the fatigue in his tone, before shaking her head and moving closer to him, letting him pull her closer, enough for her to rest her head against his shoulder, a hand placed on his heart, appreciating the steady beat- his own rhythm for her. 

“I’m sorry…”

“You should be.” she mumbled, turning to bury her face in the crook of his neck, feeling him draw her closer, the arm around her waist tightening, as if he were afraid that she’d disappear. Not a word was exchanged after that, her lips would often gently graze against his warm skin, curling into a small smile when she’d hear him let out a sigh, her leg now hooked around his, basically tangled around him. He never pushed her away or told her to stop, even when her hand slipped into his shirt, fingers tracing his warm skin, trying to feel him against her, as if she were trying to become one with him. He may not prefer skinship or let anyone else touch him, but she was the exception, she held the key to his heart, to his soul, giving her the free access of a more compliant and vulnerable Hongjoong, who was no longer a captain, but a boy who loved music, and she was but his muse, his inspiration, the rhythm his heart would dance to.

Park Seonghwa

Did she mean to forget it? No. Did she forget it? Yes. Was she sorry about it? Yes. But was she going to accept his berating and taunting? Not at all. She knew he was tired and exhausted, she knew being an idol wasn’t easy, it was a job accompanied with constant stress and fatigue-  you knew what you were getting yourself into, but so did he. He knew you were a full eight to six job, a busy job, a hectic job, and that wasn’t accompanied with a driver or a manager or any other kind of comfort, no you had no one to lean on when it came to someone messing up and expecting you to clean up after them. 

So, is it your fault that you came home all tired and exhausted to the bone, only to flop down on the couch, next to your boyfriend- who by the way did not even bother greeting you- and expect him to show you some compassion? Apparently, it was. Your head lay on the backrest of the couch, the TV acting like a white noise as your turned your head, eyes drowsy and tired to look at the magnificent being fate had paired you up with, someone so loving and caring, so endearing and tender, so pretty and- 

“Did you vacuum today?”

“What?” sitting up properly she looked at the not so loving man, god, how could someone so pretty be so weird sometimes- oh shit. Shaking your head you cleared your throat, “Well umm…I know…I told you I’d do it today since I had to go later to work but I…kinda forgot? Plus you did clean yesterday so the house is pretty clean?” trailing off you averted your gaze, trying not to meet eyes with the man who looked borderline distraught and disappointed. 

“Tch…this is why your mom got mad at you last week.” he mumbled and stood up, walking away, perhaps to the kitchen to get the stupid vacuum cleaner- no, he did not just bring that up! You sat there, too stunned to react, what may have seemed like a minute was perhaps more, especially when you felt something nudge at your feet, causing you to look up wide eyed at the source of hurt, staring up at him with blurry eyes.

Crying?

His eyes widened at the realisation, she had not been sitting there all stubborn while he was vacuuming, no, she was sitting there, crying, too shocked to even notice she was crying- the hell did he just do? He felt his fingers twitch, tongue poking out to lick his lower lip, an apology and more at the tip of his tongue, but before he could say anything, you were gone, the bedroom door slamming shut causing him to jerk back into his senses, running after you, trying to open the door, only to find it locked.

“Angel? Open- I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!” he called out, all anger and dominance, instantly flushed out of his being, wanting nothing more than to cradle her in his embrace, trying to hold onto her crumbling pieces. He mentally cursed himself, knowing damn well how your mother’s visit last week ended poorly, an evening that was going great, until his future mother in law found out that he did most of the cleaning, which led you to receive an earful about the duties of a true, good wife.

You don’t remember much of what happened after, you had showered, cried during the shower, changed into something comfortable and snuggled into bed, ignoring the persistent knocking and apologies that flooded the room. Were you being childish? No. You could’ve talked it out with him, but you really didn’t want to and you really didn’t care enough right now to morph an understanding mood.

What you didn’t understand was why you weren’t able to move- oh. Trying to pry his arms off you, you huffed out frustrated and still upset, only for him to mumble something in your hair, pulling you closer as his grip tightened on you, pushing his leg between yours, tangling you in his long limbs. His hair fell of his face, the tips of his silky locks caressing your forehead, tickling your skin.

“Let go.” you mumbled only to hear him whine, about to ask him to ‘get lost’ until you heard a sniffle, followed by a broken, “I-I’m s-sorry.” Honestly, a part of you didn’t want to give in, but when you heard the way he whined, calling out your name like you were a million miles away, your heart clenched at the tone, hand gently squeezing one of the two that were tightly clamped around you. 

“Hwa…” you sighed, leaning back a bit, feeling his lips press against your neck, ghosting up to your ear, whispering unending apologies, before squeezing you closer.

“Its…not fine but…please don’t…say that again.” she sighed, closing her eyes at the feeling of his soothing touches, letting his plump lips press against the shell of her ear before he flipped them over, with him hovering above her, keeping himself steady with his forearms pressing into the pillow on either sides of her head, staring down at her with puffy eyes and a pink nose, “I won’t…I’m sorry.” 

You smiled up at him, placing a hand on his cheek, adoring the way he instantly nuzzled against it, before slowly bringing him down to meet your lips.

“Then make up for it.”

Jeong Yunho

Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT!

Your blood ran cold, staring at what you had just done, oh my god, it was all over now, you were doomed- you had the worst luck known to man! You were also probably the dumbest person to exist- oh my god. The sound of the controller being placed on the table had you freeze up, but it was the loud exhale that had you flinching like a small kitten, ever so slowly turning your head to the source, trailing your eyes off the floor to lock with an unreadable pair.

“Babe.”

“Yes…Yuyu?” meekly responding, your grip tightened on the mop, trying not to run away, knowing that would only upset him even more. Okay, granted, he had told her as soon as he had come home that he was not in a great mood, the new choreography was a bit tricky and everyone was taking a bit longer than usual to pick it up, and that had led the dancer to embrace this sour mood. Even when she was smothering his cheek with kisses, clinging onto him, he had only sighed, turning to meet her lovey-dovey eyes with his tired ones, giving her a small smile before bumping his forehead with hers, “I’m gonna blow off some steam, yeah?” That had meant he’d be gaming the stress away, and she was supposed to act like a good little kitten and not play around. Lord knows why she thought of cleaning in the first place, perhaps because she was bored and needed a distraction- oh god.

He blinked at you, trying to control his expressions, though his hard stare had you shaking in your boots, slowly standing up he walked closer, and you took a step back, enough for your back to press against the wall next to the TV. Yunho had never hurt you, and he probably never was going to, but what he was doing now was uncharacteristic, exactly how angry was he? How upset was he for him to do what he had done? How angry and frustrated was he for him to say those words? For him to pull away with a glint in his eyes, watching you slowly grip your shirts, trying to control the frantic beating of your heart that was pushing the tears that were fighting to stay within your waterline.

He didn't even stop her when she slid down the wall, pulling her knees closer to her chest, his cold, harsh, brazen words slicing deep and bloody. He stared down at you for a moment before slowly moving away, his absence only hit you once you heard the soft click of the main door. It was moments later that you stood up, wiping your eyes you walked back into your shared bedroom, the scene replaying in your mind on loop;

He pressed his forehead against hers, not the way he would do so romantically, no, this was different, he was being mean, he wanted her to feel the anger coursing through his veins. Though his words were what felt like a cold slap,

“Can you do anything right? Or are you built to disappoint?”

Your eyes snapped open at the gentle call of your name, trying to ignore the lingering pounding at the back of your head. Of course, the persistent headaches were about to roll in, especially after that stressful scene followed by an unimaginable amount of crying.

Yunho whispered to you once more, noticing how you had flinched the first time, he knew your migraine would kick in as soon as he had seen your sleeping tear struck face- shit. He really did lose his cool this time, and had blown up on the wrong person. If there's one thing that he had learnt during his time with you, was that his girl was as fiery as a tiger, but her heart was as fragile as a kitten's, and his gold retriever self had managed to mangle it with his bare teeth.

“Love…” he brushed the hair away from your eyes, trying to meet your blank, unfocused gazed, as he cleared his throat, “I umm….I brought…something to eat-”

“Go away.” You whispered, gently pushing his hand away from you and sitting up, holding your head, the pounding getting louder and more difficult to handle, now that you knew he was right next to you. It was bad enough that you even dreamt about him saying that to you, in fact, in your dream he had broken up with you, which is probably why you gave him the stink eye as soon as he woke you up.

“I…I didn't mean to say that to you- tsk- it wasn't even directed towards you.” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair, trying not to rip it out in frustration. He did not mean to take it out on you, at one point he wasn’t even looking at you, he could just see himself and how he was failing - but did that mean he could take it out on you? No, it didn't. 

You looked at him sitting there on his knees, he still looked like a giant, but his hurt puppy dog expressions just had you internally berate yourself, any moment longer and you would give in- “Wait…” you turn to look at the alarm clock on your side table and whine in protest, having his full attention on you. “You woke me up! I thought it was already morning- it's only 3 am.” huffing she flopped back down on her pillow, ignoring him by closing her eyes. This was the only way you could ensure you got your message across- granted you were at fault, that didn’t mean he could turn you into his personal punching bag.

Yunho sat there, staring at you, closing your eyes as his own cast down to his clasped hands, feeling even more guilty for waking you up, but the guilt had been eating him up, as soon as he had uttered those words the guilt had begun to bubble, watching you helplessly. That was why he had walked out, he needed to clear his head, he needed to calm down and think, and other than the monologue of an apology he had even gone out of the way to get you a cake- not sure you’d eat it now, considering you were still mad at him.

“Ah-Yunho” she giggled as her eyes snapped open. 

You looked down at him and snorted, his head was placed on your tummy, ear pressed against your shirt as he looked at you. “What are you doing?” you asked propping up on your elbows to stare at him, wondering what his mind was up to this time.

“Shhh…I’m listening.”

“To what?”

“Your belly.” he stated simply before sitting up and replacing his head with his palm, “She tells me she’s hungry, and that she’d like this idiot to feed her cake.”

“Did you just call me an idiot?”

Shaking his head he cleared his throat, “N-no, your tummy called me the idiot!” he clarified before turning around and crawling to his side of the bed, picking up a tray and turning around to face her, “So…am I forgiven?” he asked, casually opening the lid of the box, glancing up to see her admire the icing, man, he really struck gold with this one, she was as forgiving as she was cute- 

“Depends. If you promise not to have a single bite.”

His eyes widened at your request, trying to see if this was some kind of joke, apparently…it was not. Clearing his throat he placed the tray between them and saluted her with one hand, “Yes Ma’am!” he yelled before taking a spoonful of the cake and pressing it against your lips, “I live to serve and please my lady.” Leave it to Yunho to wake you up at the early hours of the day and feed you cake, a very Yunho way of apologising.

Kang Yeosang

He watched you barge through the front door, looking like a mad woman as you flung your bag somewhere across the apartment, not after kicking off your heels and stumbling into the kitchen, grumbling about how ‘shitty’ your day was and how you hate men, followed by a ‘minus you Sangie, you’re the best.’ His girl really was something else, it truly amazed him how he ever fell inlove with her, especially with her distaste towards most men, hell it took her some time to even warm up to the rest of the guys- except for Mingi, which was super weird because if you ask him, Mingi is the weirdest, but she just said he’s a giant baby who thinks hes cool, like boss baby!

Picking up the remote, he pressed play, leaning back against the couch to continue watching the film. Only a shrill call of his name has him jerking off the sofa and running into the kitchen. Stumbling through the door frame blinks at you, with you standing there with the fridge open, glaring daggers at him, holding onto a container - oh…no.

“Yeosang…” other than your horrifying expression, your overall tone was very calm, which honestly scared him, you were a very expressive person until pushed to a point where you begin to shut out others, and right now, he’d have you yell at him, than completely shut him out. He took a step in your direction, only for you to raise your hand and stop him, motioning towards the empty container, “Did you eat the last slice?” Even though it was a question, it really did sound like a statement, one that was holding back the predestined overflow of emotions, of stress.

With a light sigh, he nodded, clearing his throat as he continued, “I…um…I forgot that you told me to save it for you…I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind.” His words held a gentle form of sincerity, the tender warmth of love, the calm essence of admiration - and she could not give a flying f*ck about it, especially not right now.

Making sure to maintain eye contact, you placed the empty container - the evidence - back in its place before closing the fridge. Taking a deep breath, you walked away, making sure not to spare him a glance as you walked out of the kitchen, ignoring his calls when you walked into the bedroom. You could hear him run after you, a gentle whine hanging off the tip of his tongue, but he froze when you turned around and looked at him, giving him no expression whatsoever, just, blankly staring at - no, through him. Honestly, it was then when he realised that this was not about the stupid cake, no, this was much more, he had forgotten something that was important to her, something she must have been looking forward to while she was on the bus home, something she must have been craving to eat- selfish, that’s what he was, and he knew deep down how mad she must have been- could he blame her?

He sat on the edge of the bed, ever so quietly, watching you go through your nightly routine. It hurt how easily you could pretend he wasn’t there, but then again, he wasn’t very attentive to your presence within this apartment either. He watched you go into the washroom, peaking through the door left ajar, watching you vigorously rub your face, holding back the urge of telling you to go gentle with the scrub on your skin, but he knew if he did, he’d probably get kicked out of the room- at least you didn’t ask him to leave you. You came back into the room, making sure to glare at him, something he caught onto pretty quickly, averting his gaze to his lap.

After a solid ten minutes of letting you change your clothes he glanced up at you once again, only to find you frowning at him through the mirror as you brushed your hair- at this point he realised you had not shut him out, but had decided to punish him like this. This went on for a while until you finally ripped The comforter from your side, making sure to land on the with an angry bounce, enough for him to jerk, turning to your direction for you to glare at him one more time and turn around as you flopped down on your side with an audible “HMPH”.

He didn't know if he should fine this cute, or be upset, a good part of him wanted to tease you, his inner menace begging to come up to the surface, but his more mature side or being kept reminding him that she was only doing this to avoid blowing up at him- which only added to his guilt, you really were a blessing.

You sat up to the sound of something shattering, heart racing a thousand miles as you turned to look at the place on the bed that was usually occupied by Yeosang, only to gasp when he wasn't there. Slipping out of bed, you slowly crept towards the door, grabbing your handy bat in the process as you tip toed out of the room, towards the kitchen. It was early morning, other than the noise from the kitchen, you could hear the early chirping of the bids- Yeosang had an early schedule today, so he was already out of the house- did that mean he forgot to lock the door? Shit, did someone come in because the door was unlocked, or did someone break in because they saw your boyfriend leaving.

With a bat in hand, you ran into the kitchen, ready to swing at the intruder, only you stopped mid swing when you met a familiar pair of eyes.

“YAH! KANG YEOSANG!”

His eyes widened at the sight of the bat, body frozen, crouched on the ground, waiting for the impact, only for him to jerk into action and fall back on his butt, staring up at her, whispering, “I almost…died.”

With a huff, you placed the back on the counter, pushing your hair back and walking over to your idiotic lover. Glancing at the pieces of shattered glass on the floor, oh, so that's what happened, huh? Giving him a hand, you looked at his face, raising a brow, watching him mumble something before giving your hand a squeeze.

“What?” you asked, leaning closer to hear him better, only he mistook it for you wanting affection, or perhaps he was the one who needed physical consolation. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush into his chest, making sure to squeeze you close. With a sigh you leaned your forehead against his shoulder, a good night's rest clearing your mind of any and all negative thoughts, in fact, now you were just exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to be pampered by your forgetful lover.

“What were you doing here?” You asked, looping you around from under his, placing your palms flat against his shoulder blades, feeling the slightest shift, pressing him closer to you - almost squeezing him like a plushie.

“Was…trynna bake you a cake.” He mumbled, burying his face in your hair, “But I messed up….I'm sorry…I ate your slice.”

With a sigh, you pulled your face back, giving him a small smile, “It's…alright Sangie…I'm sorry I got so upset last night…I just really really really don't like men.”

He pouted at your statement and nodded before leaning closer and pressing his forehead against yours, whispering, “Am I included in that statement?”

A giggled broke past your lips as you glanced up at him through your lashes, “Of course not…you're a fairy prince…not a stupid man…now come on,” with that you pulled away, gently lacing your fingers with his, “Let’s bake a cake together.” He could only smile at this, blushing at your compliment, any other day he'd argue about how he was a manly man, but today, he just wanted to shower her with all his love and tenderness, so he'd take it, and he'd be your fairy Prince for as long as you need him to be.

.

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