#it's given KIM DOYOUNG IN THAT ONE NCT SHOOT....YOU KNOW THE ONE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jaehotbuns · 4 years ago

Text

make it count

rating: pg-13

word count: 4560

characters: you x doyoung ft. taeil + donghyuck

genre: officeworkers!au, fluff, slight angst

summary: every year there’s a competition at your marketing company to win a bonus and vacation and luckily for you, you’re paired with the star player of the company. as you get closer to him, you think the rumors might not be true. until he gives you a reason to believe he is as cold and professional as everyone makes him out to be.

[monday, 10:54am]

“Kim Doyoung, of the Finance Department will be the first member of team B,” the director of NCT Marketing Co. announced loudly into the microphone which caused the other employees to mutter to their seatmates, you and Donghyuck also included. Doyoung walked up the small flight of wooden stairs up onto the middle of the stage and placed his hands neatly in front of him, one hand on top of the other. His face was stoic, with no expression, yet still confident.

You leaned over to Donghyuck’s ears and started to whisper, “wow whoever’s going to be on his team is lucky.” Doyoung entered the company fresh eyed with only a Bachelor’s degree and two years of internship under his belt yet he was already highly regarded due to his consistent outstanding results, perfect work ethic, and professional attitude. Although he was teased often by some workers that he was close to at the office, with everyone else he never let down his guard.

“No thank you,” Donghyuck chuckled and shook his head. He and the other employees that knew Doyoung personally all chuckled and elbowed each other while looking at him on the stage.

You were confused, all of the older workers shared the same thoughts as you. The company held mid-year competitions that paired members from each department to create campaigns for their biggest sponsors. The team with the best results and sales would be awarded a 15% bonus on their paycheck and a week off of work. So it was out of the question that people were crossing their fingers to be on a team with one of the company’s star employees. “Why?” You asked. “Everyone knows he always gives the best results and he’s your friend too.”

Donghyuck leaned closer to you to give you more insight. “Last year I was on the team with him and Johnny and it was a mess.”

Still confused, you tilted your head to the side and knitted your eyebrows together. “Why? Didn’t your team win last year?”

“Correct,” Donghyuck said. He turned his gaze over to Doyoung and shook his head while waving a finger at him in disappointment. “But Johnny and I would always leave him to work and FaceTime us having beers pretending not to work that he was so annoyed that he went to HR to ask to work alone.”

“Wait, so you left all the work to him?”

Donghyuck scoffed and shot you a glare, “of course not! We have morals too! We finished our work early to pretend we were slacking off to mess with him.” He slapped his knee and laughed remembering the ordeal, “I didn’t think he’d actually do something so drastic though. We had to show our completed work at the meeting with HR and he suddenly yelled, ‘wait! You had it done this whole time?’” He let out a sigh of air after continuously laughing, “I need someone that I can’t make fun of.”

“You guys are too mean,” you chuckled at the thought of Doyoung, who never shows his emotions, being teased by his friends. While you and Donghyuck were talking, Taeil was called up to the stage. “Wow this is crazy, Taeil’s on the team too?” Taeil had 5 years of experience, a Master’s degree in Business Management, and on top of that he’s loved by all of the workers at the company for his kind and helpful character.

“Having Taeil on the team does help make uptight Doyoung more bearable,” Donghyuck laughed with his hand covering his mouth. You rolled your eyes, Donghyuck always acted like a school kid at work but it seemed like he took particular joy from making fun of Doyoung.

Your eyes travelled back to the stage and watched the director look back at his cue cards and pull the microphone back to his chin to announce the final member. “And the last member of team B will be… The newest addition of our company!”

You blanked out, did he just call your name? You sat there confused until Donghyuck slapped your arm lightly and hissed, “that’s you dummy! Go up!” Snapping out of your daze, you walked over to the stage and next to Doyoung who eyed you from the corner of his eye. All of you bowed towards your coworkers and walked down the stage to seats that had sheets of paper with ‘team B’ on them.

All of you introduced yourselves quietly and briefly as the other teams were being announced and you sat awkwardly next to Doyoung with Taeil on the left side of him while you on his right. As you were watching silently, Doyoung turned to you and asked softly, “so you’re the newest one in the company?” You nodded with your eyes still on the stage, too intimidated to look at him. “First competition then?” You nodded again. He held his slender hand out to you, “let’s work together well.” You placed your hand in his and he gave you a firm handshake. When you looked up at him you saw his eyes slightly smile and the corner of his mouth curl up to form a small smile.

After every team was formed, everyone went into their respective meeting rooms and started to prep. Teams from previous years were given tasks of marketing fashion collections, sports drinks, or even ginseng and herbal supplements but this year everyone was given a piece of real estate. Yours was a beautiful guest house near Haeundae beach in Busan.

With your roles already assigned according to the departments that you were in, you were prepping the project that was due in only a week’s time which would make the bonus worth more with how much overtime you were able to do. Taeil was in charge of operations, Doyoung with finance and budgeting, and you with creative control.

You were all deep in thought with how you were going to market the beautiful property, as although it was in a great location and had modern and a chic interior; people usually took day trips or rented cheap hostels for the night as they only rented to sleep, not to spend time in rentals when they’d spend all day at the nearby attractions. Doyoung tapped his pen lightly against the marbled table surface. “How about we start with themes? That should give us an idea of which platform we can promote on.” Taeil looked up at the corner of the ceiling and hummed in thought.

Doyoung’s eyes caught yours, prompting you to pitch an idea. “How about we advertise to college students?” Both Taeil and Doyoung’s eyes were locked on you, totally immersed in what you were saying. “We can promote summer trips where they can have fun at the beach and amusement park and bring home food and enjoy the guest house.”

They both nodded but you could tell they weren’t convinced. “College students probably want to barbecue and drink which in turn makes noise complaints and a bad reputation of the place in the community,” Taeil started softly. His kind eyes looked at you and you knew he didn’t want to shoot down your idea but it just wasn’t plausible. “Also, it’s quite high in price for each night so it’s out of budget for most college students.” You nodded in agreement, slightly disappointed in yourself at your quick suggestion.

“Families are also a no-go,” Doyoung sighed. He placed his hands on the back of his neck in frustration. “Their kids won’t care about some fancy house, they’re most likely to stay with relatives or to just have a day trip.”

“Tourists?” You suggested.

“They’re most likely to go to Seoul,” Doyoung sighed.

“School orientations?” You said without confidence.

“Schools are going to budget and choose the cheapest option,” Doyoung refuted. “And this place can only house up to 4 people.”

Every suggestion of yours was shot down and the morale of the group seemed like it was diminishing. You were all excited to get handed such a beautiful rental until you realized why it was in need of marketing with all the difficulties that arose. You felt even more at fault as you were the one in charge of creative design and yet couldn’t come up with a theme.

In your self-wallowing, you didn’t even notice that Doyoung left the room until he came back and set down a can of warm black coffee for Taeil, a cold can of milk coffee for himself and a cold iced mocha for you. “Did you go all the way to the Starbucks in the lobby?” Taeil asked as there were only vending machines with warm and cold coffee cans on the current floor.

Doyoung opened his can and started to sip his drink, “I met Donghyuck at the machines.” He handed you a straw and the coffee, “he said you didn’t like canned coffee.”

Taeil nearly snorted the coffee out of his nose when he heard Doyoung’s last sentence, trying to repress his laughter while Doyoung shot daggers at him. “Thank you,” you said bashfully.

Your cheeks were warming up from Doyoung’s sweet action while you were sipping on the sweet whipped cream topping until an idea popped into your head. “Couples!” Taeil and Doyoung looked up at you in surprise and confusion. “A guest house near the beach would be romantic! They’re not loud and will find tranquility in the silence and it’s less expensive than a hotel yet you get a better view and interior than a hostel.”

The two men looked at each other in agreement. “That’s a great idea, rookie,” Doyoung smiled.

The rest of the day went by like a blur. Making a bold move, Doyoung decided on creating a commercial compared to other teams who focused on making billboards or promotional events at food chains. A risky choice, but you trusted him.

Taeil was glued to the phone all day with calls to directors, models, set designers, stylists, and everyone you needed for the commercial. You watched as the veins in his neck twitch slightly as he constantly negotiated outrageous offers when you would grab him water from the kitchen.

And you were busy planning out the details of the commercial. The camera angles, the way the light hits, the clothing, the set, and most importantly the story. The first frame was of the couple cooking, eating, and in the hot tub to show the house’s interior. The second was of them along the beach, and b-rolls of nearby attractions to showcase the area. Finally the highlight was of the couple drifting off to sleep for a sentimental feel.

As you were immersed in your sketch, you didn’t notice Doyoung peering through your shoulder. He was so close that his chin was nearly touching your shirt and you didn’t notice until he exhaled which travelled down your neck which the white shirt you wore exposed. You jumped and peered back at him, his face inches aways from yours as he didn’t move back. “Focused?”

You nodded and whipped your head back in embarrassment. You could feel the blood rushing up to your cheeks and forehead, warming up your face. He sat onto the chair next to you and held your sketch in his hand to look at it closely. “This is great,” he said under his breath. He finally looked up and into your eyes. “Where’d you get the information for this?”

“Hm, not information…” You began. “I wanted to show the benefits subtly while keeping the romantic aspect.”

“It’ll work,” he said before standing up and walking over to the door.

“How do you know?”

Doyoung didn’t turn around to answer you but he stopped in his tracks before replying. “Because it makes me want to go.” He left the room and shut the door but through the glass walls you could see the tips of his ears a bright red before he walked past the room.

[thursday, 12:34pm]

You looked at your watch nervously as staff scattered around the set of the guest house to get ready for the first shot of the commercial. The models were supposed to be on set at 9am sharp for makeup and hairstyling but they were nowhere to be seen. To fill up the time, the crew had shot b-roll first which put the schedule out of balance.

Your hopes were up when Doyoung came into the door running straight to you until you saw that his eyebrows were twisted in disappointment and stress. “Taeil said they bailed,” he huffed. You saw beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. He was running around the neighbourhood looking for possible agencies nearby but there was no luck. Even if there was a talent agency, they wouldn’t do well without the script or a contract.

“Why would they do this to us?” You asked out of frustration.

“They said that they had a better offer,” he stood up and controlled his breathing. “I have a feeling that another team might have poached them though.” You would like to believe someone at the company wouldn’t do that but considering the monetary bonus and time off you wouldn’t be surprised. It was even less surprising that they decided to do it to Doyoung and Taeil who had both won before.

“What do we do now?” You searched his eyes for answers but they were shaking with uncertainty.

“We can get b-roll and figure something out later, we can’t go by the script now.” He opened his phone and checked the date. “We have until Sunday, four days is enough to redo our plan.”

In a hurry he was about to walk past you to tell the film director until you grabbed his arm to stop him. “We can’t stop now, we’d be wasting our money on makeup, hair, stylists, all these people. And what about all the time I’ve spent on this?”

“Our budget was tight but we can make it happen,” he shook his arm out of your grip, Although he calmed his breathing from running before, it was getting more rushed with his growing frustration.

Before he could turn around you blurted out to him, “what about my plan? All my hours overtime working on this, is it going down the drain?”

He rolled his eyes, taking you aback at how coldly he was treating you. “Yes, unfortunately but that’s how it is sometimes.”

Heat spread across your body. You weren’t sure if it was hurt, anger, or sadness. Maybe a combination of all three. You couldn’t believe that you spent four days putting so much thought and care into your dream board and it was all going down the drain. You felt stupid thinking that Doyoung believed in you and your ideas. But you felt even more stupid working harder because he was the one that believed in you.

You were about to make a call to gather the staff to the guest house until Taeil burst through the door with a couple. He brought them to you and Doyoung who simultaneously walked over to them. “Donghyuck had some friends he knew in the area.” You thanked them awkwardly as there was still tension in the air.

For the rest of the day, filming went smoothly and according to schedule although it was rushed due to lost time. Taeil went back to the office to deal with the mess that the sabotagers left your team while you and Doyoung stayed on set to make sure things went according to plan.

“Alright that’s a wrap!” The director clapped his hands which prompted you and Doyoung to bow and thank every staff that left the door. When every person left, you locked the door to gather your things which left only you and Doyoung.

As you put your belongings into your bag, in the corner of your eye you could see Doyoung pacing back and forth awkwardly. When you were ready to go, you stood up and were headed towards the door until you heard Doyoung speak out softly. “Hey.” You turned around to face him with your hand on the door knob. “I’m sorry.”

Your hand gripped the smooth metal of the round door knob and grit your teeth to force out, “it’s okay. You said it happens.”

He walked over with apologetic eyes and took your hand softly off the handle. “No, I was panicking and didn’t even ask you for your opinion or even Taeil’s before deciding to scrap your idea.” You were trying to avoid eye contact but he made it impossible as everywhere you looked he was trying to look into your eyes. You could see that he was earnest. “I know you worked hard on it.”

You were left speechless. You wanted to forgive him but you were still hurt. You didn’t know what your feelings were, never mind how to verbalize them. He smiled softly, “how about we talk over a drink?” All you could do was nod.

Once Doyoung got two bottles of soju out of the fridge, both of you sat on the wooden deck that faced the beach. The sky was a dark indigo blue and had tiny white stars scattering the sky. You felt the cool wind brush back your hair while the warm soju warmed your throat and stomach. “I worked hard on that story board.” You said it without thought and you didn’t look at him. The alcohol was lowering your inhibitions.

Your eyes were fixed on the waves crashing onto the shore but from the corner of your eye you could see him facing you. “I didn’t do it with a lot of thought at first,” you turned to face him this time with a sad smile. “But I started to care about it because you said you liked it.”

His eyes looked sad, “I really did.” Doyoung moved his body closer to you, his leg brushing over yours slightly. “I was being selfish when I thought I could fix it all myself.” You both listened to the soft sounds of the water in between moments of silence. “I’m glad it all worked out in the end though.”

“I reacted emotionally,” you sighed. “I should’ve stayed composed during the mess.” You laughed a little, “I’m sorry too.”

You looked down at your thighs which were hanging off the wooden platform until you felt Doyoung lightly tap your head with his hand playfully, “why are you apologizing to me rookie? You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” He pat your hand reassuringly until he pulled away abruptly and placed it on the floor as he realized he let his guard down.

You smiled and placed your hand on top of his, his surprised eyes met yours. “Thank you, for believing in me.”

Doyoung laughed, it was the first time you’ve seen him laugh your whole year at the company. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m capable of having emotions too.”

“So you’re aware that people think that you’re a cold robot that only works and doesn’t smile?”

His bright smile turned into a pout with his eyes squinting at you at your teasingly harsh words, “I’m aware but that’s a little rough the way you put it.” He folded his arms across his chest, sulking slightly.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his cute expression, “Donghyuck was right.” He turned to you again with the same pout and sharp eyes, “teasing you is fun.”

Doyoung scoffed and shook his head in disbelief, “that little brat,” he muttered under his breath.

“I think it’s cute,” you said to console him. He stopped in his fit and turned to look at you with an expression of amusement on his face. You instantly regretted saying that as the corner of his mouth upturned into a smirk with an eyebrow raised smuggly. You grabbed the soju next to you and took a long swig to try and calm your nerves.

Once you turned to your right to set the bottle down, when you turned back to your right you said Doyoung’s face inches away from yours. You felt the warmth from his cheeks radiate next to yours and smelled his warm musky cologne from the nape of his neck. “That look on your face,” he said softly with his lips ghostly over yours. “It’s cute.” You closed your eyes as you felt him move in closer.

His soft pink lips only grazed yours slightly until a phone call caused the both of you to jump back. Both of you patted your blazers down hastily to check your phones until he raised his hand up to you, “it’s mine.”

He placed the phone up to his ear after accepting the call, “what,” he seethed into the phone annoyed at the caller and the fact that your moment was interrupted.

Even though it wasn’t on speaker phone you could hear Donghyuck’s whiny voice blare through the phone’s speaker. “Doyoung-ah!” Doyoung muttered curse words under his breath and rolled his eyes. “Come play with me and Renjun, we need a ride home.”

“Am I your chauffeur?” Doyoung lectured over the phone. He placed his phone close to his eye with his hand covering his mouth to direct his voice over the phone and not to you, not realizing that he was talking loudly out of frustration making you laugh to yourself. “I’m on a business trip! I’m hanging up!”

Before he could hang up, you heard Donghyuck slur out a teasing remark. “Oho, this late? Is it only with your ‘rookie?’ Hahaha I doubt you’d stay with Taeil this late-” Doyoung grit his teeth and hung up.

Doyoung looked over at you and saw you trying to laugh quietly to yourself and his face heated up at the thought of you hearing their conversation. “So,” you began. “How are we supposed to make it back?” You held up your empty soju bottle, insinuating that you both couldn’t drive in your conditions.

“There’s two rooms in this place,” Doyoung said while rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “We could each take a room.” He didn’t want you to take the wrong idea so he started to tipsily rambling, “there’s separate bathrooms too. I won’t leave my room and there’s locks on the door-”

“Sure, no problem,” you laughed. You stood up and brushed yourself off from the sand that wind blew through the patio. You held your hand out to Doyoung to help him up. His hand was warming up your cold hands as you pulled his sturdy frame up. “We can keep this a secret between us.”

[monday, 11:49am]

Applause filled the presentation room as team A with Yeri, Donghyuck, and Jeno finished their presentations. All of them were near your age yet presented their billboard design and pitch flawlessly with charisma and confidence. You watched them bow and walk off the stage while high-fiving each other and nervousness only grew in the pit of your stomach when you watched the stage engineer setting up your powerpoint.

Doyoung looked down and saw your body shaking subconsciously. He placed his hand on your shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, “hey. Believe in yourself, you should be proud of everything you did.”

Although you appreciated the sentiment, you were still terrified of messing up especially with Taeil and Doyoung on your team. If you messed up then everyone would think that you dragged the team down with you considering you were the one with the least experience.

Doyoung placed his other hand on your shoulder and turned your body to face him. He leaned down so that you two were eye level now. Sincerity was written all over his face as he gazed into your eyes, “don’t think of winning, or losing, or me and Taeil. Think about how nice it felt at the beach house and think of how much you want other couples to experience it too.” He turned you back to face the stage before letting go of your shoulders and giving you an encouraging pat on the back.

You breathed in deeply and let out a long exhale before squaring your shoulders and walking out on the stage on cue of the director.

[monday, 9:26pm]

“Cheers!” Taeil shouted in glee as he raised his glass of beer.

“Cheers!” Everyone else followed as they bumped their glasses into the middle, with white foam lightly spraying on your shirts as the heavy jugs collided with each other.

After the director announced that your team had won the competition, Taeil invited your group and other close colleagues out to celebrate with the bill on him.

“This is what happens when you put two geezers on a team together,” Donghyuck whined as he took a sip of his beer. He made a satisfying exhale after his swig and slammed the glass down on the wooden bar counter like an old man. “It’s unfair. You should the young ones win for once.”

Doyoung’s eyes fired up as he glared at Donghyuck, “hey, just because we’re older than you doesn’t mean we're the oldest in the company! What about the people in their 40’s and 50’s?!”

Donghyuck slapped his back twice, adding more insult to injury, “okay gramps, calm down don’t want you to get too excited.”

Everyone at the counter laughed, already used to this exchange but never getting old seeing Doyoung getting continuously frustrated. As the other people got on to their private conversations, Doyoung turned his chair to face you and held his glass up, giving you personal cheers. While you took a sip, he set his cup down. “What are you going to do with your week off?”

You wiped the foam off of your lips with the tips of your fingers before setting your drink down on the counter. “I’m not sure,” you shrugged. “Since everyone’s still working I can’t really go out with other people, so I’ll probably just stay home.”

Doyoung shook his head, “what’s the fun in that?”

You laughed, “oho, you’re one to talk about fun.” You teased and he smiled at you, not even pretending to be annoyed. “What are you going to do?”

“Stay home too,” he said regretfully. “Unless you want to rent the guest house with me?”

“Didn’t we already go there together?” You asked, excited about what his proposal was going to lead to.

“That was different…” His legs were wrapped around the bar stool and he was swirling back and forth nervously. “I want to go there for what our commercial intended…”

You tilted your head to the side in thought, “‘what our commercial intended?’” His eyes were looking at you nervously as you tried to get where he was going. “For couples?”

He nodded shyly, “how about we go there as a couple?” You noticed his tipsy habit of rambling when he was nervous. Or maybe rambling was his nervous habit whether he had alcohol or not. “I mean unless you don’t want to, that’s completely fine. I don’t want to pressure you or anything, you can use your free week however you want. I’m not saying we’re a couple-”

You placed your hand on top of his, “let’s go then.”

Doyoung’s eyes twinkled under the bar’s hazy yellow light, “let’s see where it takes us.”

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kisskissbanggang · 5 years ago

Text

Exposure

[15Min Read/3.8K Words - Idol AU - Jungwoo x Paparazzi Female Reader - NSFW/Smut - Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Public Sex, Fellatio, Light Degradation, Dom/Sub Elements]

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Your braids felt too tight. They probably were, but you had rushed to get out to this fanmeet when you caught wind of it. Your boss understood your strengths, and you weren’t about to let that down. Once you were able to get your shots, you wouldn't even think about the dumb braids anymore.

It all started when an exec tried to say you looked too young to be successful as a photographer. No one would take you seriously looking like a high schooler, apparently, and it ruined you for days until you passed by a group of fans waiting for their favorite actor to make an appearance at the mall. These girls got so close and they could get into events that press weren’t allowed into. Even though you had openly applied for a sketchy tabloid job, you knew you needed credits to get ahead, and now you wanted to prove yourself. You had ran home, dug out your high school sweatshirt, pulled your hair into some pigtails, and were able to give the same exec who turned you down some great candid shots.

So this is what you did now. You perfectly fit in with the gaggles of fansites that would crowd these events, and no one gave you any second glances. You carried your press badge hidden behind a photo card on a lanyard attached to your camera, swapping out photocards for whatever group you were chasing. Today was NCT 127, so the photocard attached to your camera was of Kim Doyoung who, according to your boss, was in talks for some new ventures and could use some new publicity.

You had chased the group for three days now but every time you attempted a good shot of him, Kim Jungwoo kept getting in the way. They were always shopping together or eating together or doing nothing at home together and you couldn’t get any good shots of this idol alone and the whole chase was driving you crazy. This fire in you blazed when you took this new batch of photos into editing and you noticed. Jungwoo recognized you. More and more in these shots, Jungwoo had caught you in the background of his day, and today he even smiled at you.

Your boss wasn’t pleased when you said you needed even more time to get some more shots, but nonetheless you still used the company’s money to get yourself on a train for the group’s next concert. This time, in addition to your girlish appearance, you had your equipment stashed in a backpack that you carried with you. You skipped the long line, though, and headed straight to the loading gate in the back of the venue. Press would never be allowed back here, but nonetheless you still walked up to security and did your best to look nervously excited.

“Oppa,” you modestly smiled at the young guard, really only looking a few years older than you, “you know, it's my birthday, and I saved up money from my part-time job for this concert for months to come here. I really would love to make it even more special.” The man shifted uncomfortably, clearly conflicted about throwing out a young woman just wanting to have a special day until you whipped out a small wad of cash to tuck into the pocket of his trousers. He bit his lip and slipped you a wristband before he ultimately stepped out of the way to let you in, pointing you towards the green room where you and the other groupies could wait.

You took your time navigating the back hallways of the venue, looking bright-eyed and lost and waiting to sneak out your smaller camera for locations like this. You clipped your press badge onto the strap as you slowly made your way through the backstage area, checking around green rooms and craft services before you came to the makeup rooms. It seemed fruitless, seeing these hallways were much emptier than those you just checked, but you needed to be sure. You slowly made your way down this corridor, taking the time to peek into every open door from the hallway, listening for voices and footsteps all the while, until a hint of motion caught your eye.

Without making any brash movements in the quiet hall, all you were able to make out was the sinful visual of a figure leaned back over a vanity in an otherwise silent and empty dressing room, a hand stroking their exposed length in their near-privacy. You didn't gasp, you didn't blush, you just felt yourself watch, almost shamelessly enjoying this little private show before the figure pleasuring themselves against the vanity straightened up, their pace on their cock quickening. Jungwoo turned and looked right at you, and now you did gasp, caught as you were, spying on him as he jerked himself. He didn't stop, either. He just watched you watching him, never letting go of himself or slowing. If anything, he became more earnest in his ministrations, holding eye contact as long as you could handle until you were suddenly very aware of yourself. Quickly, you dashed back down the hall, writing this venture off as a wash and trying to find Doyoung somewhere else.

In order to try and shake off the very different and very unprecedented incident that occurred backstage, you took the first vanilla opportunity your boss softballed out to the staff: a simple press event, a small demo and cocktail party for a trending fashion designer. Thankfully, even Doyoung was invited. You could probably get some good shots and have an easy night all things considered. You picked out a simple dress and jacket, something that wouldn’t make you stand out too much, and clipped your press badge onto a plain black lanyard to actually wear around your neck. Wearing your hair down was an active treat, not having to look forward to sore roots later in the night.

The party was pretty boring, but boring was what you needed. You were thoroughly set on edge after the other day, and you couldn't place why. You’d seen Kim Jungwoo in a few magazines and occasionally on TV when his group was doing variety, and more than a few times when out doing bigger industry events, but he’d never struck you as the devilish type. However, something about the way he confidently, almost defiantly held your gaze practically stupefied you, even days later. Finally, you caught sight of Doyoung, laughing and having a glass of wine with other tall, beautiful people. You grabbed a few shots before covering the rest of the party, but something caught your eye when you clicked through your digital display to review. Jungwoo. He’d brought Jungwoo with him.

“It’s a school night,” came a soft laugh over your shoulder, “shouldn’t you be home studying?”

You turned, rapidly growing sheepish as you were faced with Kim Jungwoo standing over you. “I’m sorry?” You apologized as you did your best to look like you didn’t understand.

“I was wondering when I'd see you again,” Jungwoo smirked, his soft eyes holding a mischievous sparkle in them. “How did you get in here?”

“I think you have me mistaken for someone else,” you smiled cordially.

“No,” Jungwoo insisted playfully, “I think you look like Doyoung-hyung’s new fansite I've caught poking around.”

“Fansite?” You shook your head gravely. “I'm sorry, sir, but I'm Press.” You held up your badge on your lanyard, jolting as Jungwoo brazenly reached forward to grab it. He flipped it around to expose Doyoung’s photocard. You must've forgotten to take it out amidst all your distraction.

“Did you enjoy your private show the other day?” Jungwoo chuckled, even stepping closer to talk low in the crowded party. “You could've joined me. I could've given you something worth shooting.” Jungwoo’s smile was genuine, soft and playful and innocent, but his eyes were hungry enough to make you plenty content with your coverage for the night and hurriedly excuse yourself from him and the party.

You should have guessed, then, that your boss wouldn’t be pleased to hear that you’d left early. None of your shots of Doyoung had been “provoking” enough for some affiliates, and now you were perched in the bushes outside of the group’s apartment in a last-ditch effort to catch something exposing, something titillating. You had waited all night, watching people come and go and you finally caught some action in an upstairs bedroom. The focus in your camera quietly clicked along after you zoomed in to get a better look. You clicked up your exposure length as you watched with endless satisfaction, catching Doyoung finally get out of bed to work out. He slipped his shirt off over his head, and you got to work, snapping shots of Doyoung’s measly workout routine before he retreated to go take a shower. You sighed, getting ready to pack up when a presence behind you made you gasp.

“You'll never graduate if you're always sneaking out,” Jungwoo smiled in the dark.

“What're you doing?” You asked accusingly.

“Me? I'm just going for a walk. You want to come with me?” You sought after a cheeky remark before Jungwoo pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of you with the flash on, making you see spots. “See? I can take pictures, too. And I can show this to management and tell them all about the paparazzi posing as an adorable schoolgirl outside. How about that walk?”

You bounced your knee a little, shifting your weight from one foot to the other before you nodded.

Jungwoo offered you his arm and you curiously linked yours through, watching as he immediately softened and acted like this was just a fun night between two friends taking a walk in the nearby park, except you were still dressed in all black with your camera around your neck.

“I did a little snooping of my own,” Jungwoo mentioned, “after I saw your badge the other night. You take really good photos. You don't need to be doing this gonzo work.”

“I'm good at it,” you shrugged, “and I need the credits in my resume.”

“Well how many more do you need?” He asked you. Jungwoo’s tone caught your attention -- he was sincere. He was honestly interested in why you were okay doing this.

“I'll move on when I'm ready to move on--”

“You sure this isn't just easy?”

“Are you implying my work is degrading?”

“I'm saying your work is sleazy and gross,” Jungwoo huffed at you, “and I'd be a lot more attracted to you than I already am if you did work closer to your caliber.”

You paused, aghast. “Why aren't you more attracted to me as I am?”

“Because I've watched you follow us around for a week now, you didn't seem to have any problem watching me touch myself the other day, and I've never seen you without a camera.”

“If you're so disgusted by me, then why did keep going when I caught you?” You were challenging him now, squaring up against him as you passed a bench in the empty park, lit only by the moon through the clouds. You dropped your camera into your bag and set it on the bench before folding your arms spitefully.

“I was having fun,” Jungwoo grinned, “I thought we were having fun.”

“Are you sure? Maybe you’re the actual sleaze.” You smiled, cocky and triumphant before Jungwoo shattered you with a laugh.

“And you didn’t catch me. I saw you skulking around backstage. I thought you’d like to come join me.” Jungwoo reached forward now, pulling your hand from your folded arms and clasping it to draw you close. Something felt a little electric as you found yourself being compliant. “I like this secret spy get-up on you, but I think I prefer the innocent look.” You watched, dumbfounded as Jungwoo’s hand cupped your face before he suddenly grabbed your chin.

“Were you thinking of me looking innocent when you were jerking off?” You laughed nervously, eyes darting to make sure you actually were alone.

“Of course I was,” Jungwoo nodded soberly, “it’s only been getting worse since I first noticed you stalking us. I want to pull on your pigtails and see you in that school sweater again.”

“I can go home and get it,” you sarcastically offered, looking for an opportunity to get out and keep this encounter from getting messy.

“And let you leave?” He shook his head. “Not when I have you right here and all to myself.” Jungwoo’s arms circled your waist and pulled you close.

“What do you want?” You defiantly stammered. “Money? You want the photos I'm going to submit?”

“No,” Jungwoo smirked as he leaned his head in closer to yours, his lips barely hazing over yours, “I just want you to be good.”

“What?” You asked, barely a whisper, wanting to ask a million questions but nonetheless accepting when Jungwoo closed the gap between his lips and yours. He still held you close, nearly resembling two lovers in the park except you knew better, you knew what Jungwoo was chasing. You just had to decide to give it to him. You had to decide if you were okay feeling good when Jungwoo called you sleazy, if you enjoyed how he exposed you and made you feel vulnerable.

“Touch me,” he ordered softly, despite his hands finally relinquishing you. He understood the choice he gave you in letting go: obey, or run and take a chance that he would rat you out. You could clearly see the proud smile spread across Jungwoo's face in the dark as you tentatively reached forward, pressing your hand to his chest and letting it drift down his lean figure, only hesitating when you neared the waistband of his jeans. “Are you afraid?” He asked, almost soothingly.

“No,” you murmured, “just excited.”

Jungwoo’s hand closed around yours now, halting you. “Tell me why, first.”

“I'm curious about you,” you breathed, your hushed intrigue doing more than enough to let Jungwoo almost push your hand the rest of the way down to the button and zip of his jeans.

“Good,” he praised sweetly, his chest rising and falling hard as you got your hand in his jeans and around his member. “Now admit you've been thinking about me.”

“Yes,” you exhaled, practically trembling from excitement as Jungwoo turned you in his arms, pressing his length in your hand against the curve of your ass. “Ever since I saw it I've been thinking about…”

“Say it, cutie,” Jungwoo chuckled behind you, his lips trailing over the expanse of your neck.

“I've been thinking about your cock,” you admitted, and his member throbbed under your fingers as Jungwoo groaned. His own fingertips traveled around to your belly, dipping below your waistband to your quickly dampening heat. Your pussy accepted his probing fingers so easily it almost felt like a betrayal.

“And did you do anything about it?” He asked curiously.

“Not yet,” you shook your head.

“Awh, poor baby,” Jungwoo laughed, “too busy following us around? You've only had time to think about this?” He snickered at your pathetic nod as he ground his hips against your massaging grip. “You know, beautiful, you look just as filthy as I thought you would be like this.”

You earnestly nodded in agreement -- you did look filthy like this, knees squeezed tightly together with Jungwoo’s hand in your dark jeans and yours wrapped around his cock behind your back.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jungwoo smiled, “do you like that? Do you like being filthy?” He smirked at your renewed nod as his fingers massaged your wet pussy. “Then you're definitely my filthy girl. How about slutty? Are you my slutty girl?”

You swallowed hard at Jungwoo's teasing and deliciously embarrassing words. Were you a slutty girl? Maybe you could be, just for tonight. You didn't even realize you were nodding again and again before Jungwoo spanked your ass with a laugh. “Then I should give my slutty girl what she's begging for.”

Jungwoo’s hands pressed down on your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend over the park bench as he swiftly yanked down your jeans and panties. Then he paused.

“Put me inside you,” Jungwoo encouraged. You swallowed down a nervous gulp as you massaged his length in your hands a couple more times. You prodded the head of his cock against your entrance, quietly moaning and whimpering under your breath as you worked him inside you. “Oh, princess,” Jungwoo cooed, “my perfect, slutty princess. Now work your pussy for me.”

You nodded, overwhelmed by your own desire and compulsion to please Jungwoo. Fucking him was like nothing you’d ever experienced, where this was almost fun, like it was a game, and you had a chance to win. You pressed your hands to the cold park bench and worked your hips back, thrusting your pussy down around Jungwoo’s thick cock before he spanked you again.

“You're good at that,” he teased, “maybe we should make this a regular thing, where you can show me everything you can do.”

“Well, what about tonight?” You asked, finally piping up.

“Tonight,” Jungwoo began thoughtfully, “now that we've warmed up, you just have to take it.”

Before you could question any further, Jungwoo pulled out, his absence within you immediately felt. He turned you both, seating himself on the park bench and hauling you down perpendicularly on lap, hooking an arm under your leg to easily hoist you up and seat you on his cock. His lips searched for yours in the dark before he eagerly bounced you on his length, his hips bucking and rolling hard up against yours.

“You like it, right?” He asked so sweetly, his big smile at your exhausted nod making your heart throb. “How should I finish?”

“After I do, for starters,” you giggled, and his laugh combined with yours proved that this was just fun and games when all was said and done, that Jungwoo had no intent of turning you in despite any reservations he may have had about your job. His fingers cradled your chin as he kissed you, before they traveled down between your breasts, taking a moment to tease your nipples through your shirt before dipping down between your legs and continuing to rub your soaked clit again.

Picking up where he left off, and now doing all the work, it was incredibly easy to feel your orgasm coming on. Despite every tiny dissenting voice in your head telling you that this was too public, too obscene, Jungwoo held you close, almost cradling you as he fucked you through your hushed orgasm sending sparks along your nervous system. He slowed his hips under where you were seated side-saddle, kissing your face as you calmed down.

“My gorgeous, filthy princess,” Jungwoo praised as he pressed his lips to your temple, “cumming all over my cock out here.”

“What about you now?” You asked, still panting as you caught your breath.

“What about me?”

“Don't you want to cum?” You asked curiously.

“Sure I do,” he nodded, “and I'm sure I will. I'm just having fun doing this with you.”

“Then maybe,” you teased as you returned the kiss to his forehead, “I can come up with an idea myself.”

“Oh?” Jungwoo smiled, watching with piqued interest as you fought your shaky legs to stand back up, sliding your panties and jeans off over your shoes and dropping them beside him. You were already this exposed, you figured. The cool night air tickled your half-bared body and only reminded you how public this was, but it only encouraged you more. Making sure you had steady footing, you climbed back onto Jungwoo’s lap, now squatting over his length with your feet planted on either side of his hips as you steadily slid him back inside you.

“I'm thinking I'm not the only filthy one if you like this so much,” you smirked playfully, enjoying his low groans from your tight walls massaging his length as you worked a good rhythm on him.

“I’m thinking you're right,” he chuckled, moaning and whimpering as you varied your pace, occasionally stopping altogether or even grinding your pussy down hard on his cock before you suddenly pulled off. Jungwoo whined with a desperate laugh as he bucked into the air, trying to get back into you. “No no, you don’t get to do that, I love it,” he begged.

“Say it again,” you demanded, riding him hard for a moment and doing it all over again, pulling your soaked pussy back off of him.

“Please please please,” he whimpered as he fucked into the air, “bring it back, you're working me up too fast to be a tease like this.”

“Are you sure?” You asked sweetly before you repeated the routine once again.

“Yes!” Jungwoo gritted through his teeth as he gripped onto the park bench. “Please, princess, make me cum.”

“Whatever you want,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead once more before climbing off his lap altogether. Jungwoo almost sputtered, not understanding until you sank to a squat in front of him and took his cock deep between your lips, your tongue massaging his length as you hungrily sucked on him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jungwoo panted, “it’s not as good as your pussy but it’s so, so good, baby.”

You pulled off his cock with an audible pop, your hand picking up where you left off and jerking his length.

“Well, maybe next time you can bring a condom next time you ambush me.”

“If it’s going to be like this, I'll do whatever you want,” Jungwoo laughed exhaustedly as he tried not to thrust into your mouth when you sucked him back between your lips. His fingers stroked into your hair, keeping his wavering touches gentle until he gripped at his thigh, seemingly warning you of his impending orgasm.

Your suspicions were confirmed a moment later as Jungwoo let his head loll back with the force of his orgasm, his cum spilling into your throat and down your chin for you to hungrily drink down. Jungwoo melted into the bench, catching his breath as you stood back up, stretching your legs and quickly pulling your panties and jeans back on.

It was odd, thinking of something to say as Jungwoo finally came back to life and gently stowed his cock back into his pants. You liked him, and you wanted more, but neither of you were hardly in any position to be trying to make this a real thing. At least, not a committed thing.

“So, I guess we should never do this again,” Jungwoo sighed with a disheartened grin. You thought hard about this, about him.

“I'm not sure,” you settled on. “You can ask me at the SM company dinner next week I'll be covering.” You softly cupped Jungwoo’s humbly triumphant face as you grabbed your bag before shouldering it and leaving in the quiet night.

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct 127 #kim jungwoo #jungwoo x reader #jungwoo x you #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct scenarios

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fullsunalicia · 4 years ago

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Hi omg 🥺🥺 I was wondering if you could do a nct 127 reaction to their bisexual latinx s/o dressing alternative and being activist? Like going to blm activities and equal rights and pride I'm sorry if it's too specific 🥺 ilysm 🥺!!!

no problem at all my love !!!! ilysm too, thank you for your request!!

Moon Taeil

the proudest boyfriend ever. this is a common fact for everyone in nct. everyone, taeil included, would be so proud to have a girlfriend like you.

your no. 1 supporter! though it’s harder for him to attend protests for example because sm sucks and deserves to get their ass beat, since they can clearly rip off black artists but not acknowledge/help them, he still does everything in his power to support you!

need help with getting there and there to attend a demo? you got it! need a helping hand with drawing leaflets? you got it! write down ways you can safely protest and hide your face? he’s already making notes on a hk protest video!

Lee Taeyong

like taeil, taeyong is very supportive and goes out of his way to help you! he likes helping you with posters and other little things that can be helpful for protests - some solution for when you get teargassed, for example.

y’all have seen the way he stands up to his managers lmao. though it would be a little harder than exposing his managers on vlive, he’d still try to help on sns in a subtle way. a lysn bubble update with the date of the blm demo, maybe... very inch resting, ty doesnt know how that got there.............

in terms of dressing alt, you’ve got yourself a fanboy!! our fashion icon taeyong adores your sense of fashion and always watches you pick out fits. wants you to shop for him, aswell!! they’re such cool looks!

Seo Johnny

man the way he would be EXPLODING from pride. that’s his gf right here!!! his perfect little activist gf saving the world!! catch him crying in a ditch johnny loves you so MUCH

since he grew up in the states and experienced those problems firsthand, johnny would definitely make an attempt to join you on protests. whether that’s blm, pride or equal rights. he believes in you and he believes in those causes. will definitely get in trouble for secretly attending a demo with you!!

the biggest fucking ally ever omg. whether it took you some time to tell johnny or saying it right at the start, he supports you for your sexuality and never once makes you feel weird about it. nor insecure! he just fell in love with you HARD

Nakamoto Yuta

MAN... y’all already know yuta would join you on every. single. demo. he’s the loudest protestor on the goddamn street. I SAY LESBIAN YOU SAY ALLY. watch him raise up a lesbian flag and yell profanities at homophobic ass people

yuta is already so so vocal with his open support for lgbtq and others!!! this man is a feminist to the blood, to the bone. you got yourself the perfect boyfriend ma’am. hot and educated? goddamn

y’all are that activist power couple that is cheered on every protest!!!! he supports you! your causes are his causes!!!!! literally the perfect match

Kim Doyoung

this is so self explanatory i’m gonna CRY from laughter. everything about this man screams ally. will beat anyone up that belittles you for your sexuality, or anyone else in that matter

that vlive where the czennie talked about an unrequited love and he went “it could be a boy loving a boy, or a girl loving a girl, we don’t know that.” man....... kim doyoung, your hand in marriage juseyo??

like yuta, he is right beside you aiding your beliefs. he loves you so much, it’s only fair he does the best he can to support you. i love him

Jung Jaehyun

this man is so in awe at your fashion sense he literally annoys your ass for ootd pictures. spams you until he gets all the deeds. very obnoxious but also very cute, it’s quite an ego boost to have the jung jaehyun as a hype man!!

it’s not a big thing to him that you’re bisexual - he acknowledges it and supports you with all his heart. no matter what your sexuality is. there’s not a single inch of you he doesn’t love or adore or support. he literally has love beams shooting out of his eyes !!

has to be physically restrained to not attend demos with you LMAOOO, there’s a picture of him floating on sns where he raises you up so your poster is seen. power couple coming through to support blm and pride!!! move, homophobes !!!!!

Kim Jungwoo

jungwoo is someone i think who’s a little clueless to the causes you’re fighting for - not in an ignorant sense! i don’t know how to explain it, but i think jungwoo would realize through you what problems the people around him face, and then it’s just one big shocking realization for him

after that, he becomes an avid supporter!! again, sm is trash, but jungwoo would still try to spread your message about protests and petitions that can help. quite literally does not care if he is punished or not LMAO

is the first one to beat a mf’s ass up for fetishizing your bisexuality. that’s his queen and other queens/kings you’re insulting bitch, better get ready for an ass beating

Dong Sicheng

tbh i don’t see him reacting that much to you being bisexual??? i mean sicheng supports you 1000000% but it’s not a life-changing thing. you’re still his perfect y/n, who he loves with heart and soul.

as a chinese idol in nct, he would have it the hardest to support you. but that does not stop him, even though it gets dangerous every once in a while. my heart hurts thinking about how sm treats him hhhhh i’m gonna cry

again, the proudest boyfriend ever!!!! i know i’m kind of repeating myself, but they’re all just supportive! sicheng loves you so much and is filled with so much pride that his girlfriend is fighting for whats right. his heart aches to be with you on the streets :(

Mark Lee

the biggest himbo ally ever LMAODJSHSH. i’m so sorry for the slander mark but that’s the first thing that came to my mind 😭😂

gets quite literally angry with you at the problems in the world. like sicheng, he wishes to be with you marching through the streets. equal rights should be a given and it makes him so mad that people have to protest for them. so mad!

does whatever he can to help you. mark lee is so in love with you, he’d drop anything and everything to help you. say the word and he’ll do it! i’m soft

Lee Donghyuck

y’all know that one tumblr post? he’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit? yeah that’s donghyuck HDHDBDB

like mark, he is so utterly confused why the things you’re fighting for aren’t already a given?? i??????????? his girlfriend is literally a latinx bi queen, and she’s AMAZING. openly bashes people on sns for biphobic, homophobic, or anything else discriminatory on that matter.

though he’s a little clueless on how he can help you, he still tries his best! not only does he ask you, but also his foreign czennies. hyuck makes the effort to spread your messages to k-netizens, and though it’s hard since sm sucks ass, he still shows open solidarity. that’s his girlfriend protesting on the streets, together with all the people who fight to make things right. he’s gonna make sure your voices are heard.

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wincore · 6 years ago

Text

talk | kim dongyoung

pairing: prince!doyoung x princess!reader

words: 8k

prompt: anonymous sent: For the Valentines day request may I request one w nct Doyoung? (also if you can, an au where he's a prince and reader's a princess?)

genre: royalty!au, arranged marriage!au, fluff, hurt/comfort

warning(s): a tad suggestive?

gif credit

You’re not exactly someone to bow your head and agree to a command. You weren’t raised with a lot of freedom, but you sought it anyway, and the mere taste of it never let you live the way you should be.

Princesses aren’t supposed to be like you—they’re supposed to be prim and proper, smell like roses and all things rich and wonderful, they’re supposed to smile and laugh with the princes, hold their head up with dignity but bow when they’re ordered to. They’re not supposed to sneak out at midnight to stargaze, or get their knees scraped climbing trees, they’re not supposed to scowl or make ugly faces at any advances from the opposite gender, and they certainly aren’t supposed to keep disappearing, especially during important dinners.

The news had your insides crumbling when you heard it, when your mother notified you with a look of disdain, scolding you for being absent from the palace almost all the time. Her words only seem to reproach your actions, conveniently missing the point that maybe, just maybe you aren’t at fault at times. To be robbed of freedom, to be married to a man you’ve hardly glanced at, to be treated as if you aren’t a person at all—it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth at best.

You’re often told you have a lot of independence. It doesn’t make any sense to you, just how anyone could have the audacity to tell you that. They’re not the ones caged by societal rules, rules that require the binding of your soul and the full capabilities of your body. You can’t count the number of times you’ve physically restricted yourself from screaming, or just punching someone in the face (you wish you knew how to without damaging your knuckles, but you’ve been denied that lesson several times). You’re not purely hot-headed, or impulsive, but you’re allowed to at least have these thoughts, right? Or are you supposed to keep a check on your thoughts, too?

When you see Kim Dongyoung in his navy blue suit, the golden twigs and leaves etched across the shoulders and the sleeves, you hear your mother sigh beside you. You sigh too, but for a different reason altogether. The princesses across the entire continent would love to take your place; you know your friends would, after they gasped and laughed in joy, congratulating you after you told them, missing the point like everyone else. But they make some sense, of course. He’s handsome, ethereally so, and he’s rich. Moreover, he’s known for his failproof war strategies that men of ordinary intelligence don’t usually come up with. But that’s all you know of him. You don’t know if he has any passions, or if he’s a puppet like you and other people in your position. You don’t know if he’s kind to the poor, or if he likes walks through gardens. You don’t know if he likes to read, or if he has a favourite smell, favourite food, favourite colour. All you know is an image other people have painted of him, and you’re meant to spend your life with this hollow shell of a man you don’t know, who you now won’t let yourself know, purely out of spite.

You sit at the wooden bench in the royal garden, awkwardly playing with your hands. You’re left with Doyoung, as he prefers to be called, and you’re meant to talk to him. It’s a freedom your families have given to you, to get to know each other before your lives are intertwined forever. Sunlight streams in, and the browns of his eyes vaguely remind you of the woods on a spring afternoon.

“You probably hate this as much as I do, ” he says, cutting the thick silence, no sign of humour in his tone. In fact, his lips are pursed into a grim expression quite possibly reflecting yours.

“Probably more,” you grumble. As a lady, you’ve been taught to never use that tone. But as you, you can’t care less, now that you know he feels the same.

Doyoung scoffs. “More?”

He turns to look at you, the expression on his face more begrudging than anything. His shoulders are tense, or maybe he’s been taught to sit with them straight. Either way, he doesn’t seem to be enjoying his time with you.

“What?” you laugh. “You want to turn this into a competition to see who hates it more?”

You think Doyoung might have cracked a smile from the way his lips twitch, but he maintains his mildly annoyed expression, refusing to continue the conversation. The seconds drip slowly, and every time you hear a rustling from behind the entrance pillars, Doyoung reluctantly inches closer or you start giggling as though he’d said a really funny joke. The dishonest atmosphere of friendliness you delicately put up with your words and actions might as well have brought you closer—after all, you’re on the same boat, doing the same thing—but at the end of it, the prince of the north leaves with an empty smile, and you do the same.

You lie to your mother about how wonderful a man your fiancé is, and how you’re glad she’s chosen such a fitting suitor for you. You feel a little sick uttering the words but you don’t show any signs of discomfort, as your mother’s face brightens. You don’t lie very often, but the nervous crack in your mother’s voice and her shaking eyes tell you that you should be a good daughter for once.

When you enter your bedroom, you think you’ll cry. You’ve never been very fond of this room, always comparing them to a prison but now that you’re aware you might not see it again, you feel some sort of indescribable regret in your chest. Were the walls always this shade of green? Weren’t they blue once? Is your new bedroom going to have the same shade? Will you even be able to sleep there? There are so many questions you have, and none of them have a hint of optimism in their essence. It’s just a spiral of terrifying thoughts only someone who’s been drowning can understand, someone who’s been stolen from, someone with too much on their mind.

You meet Doyoung once more, three weeks before your scheduled wedding and you end up arguing, much to the horror of your mother. It wasn’t necessarily your fault, but when is an argument ever the fault of only one? Doyoung and his sharp words leave you annoyed and you shoot back with words equally prickling, and the entire situation turns messier than ever. You don’t even remember what it was that set you off; maybe Doyoung was picking a fight on purpose as a last attempt to refuse this marriage. Either way, it ticked you off and you’re more unwilling than ever to partake in the sacred bonds of marriage with this man, this entitled prince, this smartass who thinks he knows everything.

In a way, you’re glad your differences come into light so early—maybe your parents will call it off, maybe they’ll realize it’s not wise to marry you off to a foreign land. But of course, when the entire country is at stake, what does the life of a little princess matter? No, the marriage is still to take place in three weeks, and it needs to be for the sake of peace between nations, even if it is at the price of yours.

It’s strange to be the centre of attention at a wedding. You would have almost forgotten it’s your own were it not for the several congratulatory messages you keep receiving, and Doyoung’s arm placed gingerly on your waist. His tight-lipped smile at the guests, the one you know is not real, unnerves you because you display the exact same one. The irony is high, as the day celebrating love and joy is taking away yours completely.

The atmosphere is meant to be bright and cheerful, with the gold chandeliers and painted glass that impresses everyone entering the hall. The musicians play a soft, but festive melody and you would doze off if it weren’t for Doyoung’s tight grip over your hand. You glare at him every time his hold gets too strong, or after he makes someone you hardly care about introduce themselves to you. So you’re more comfortable in your new home. How laughable. Maybe he likes the way your temper flares red and shows up across your cheeks. Hopefully you’ll be able to ignore it with time, his meaningless jabs. You cringe when the thought flashes through your mind, how you’ve already started planning your days after, how you’ll spend it with the man beside you. It brings you dread and you try to ignore it best as you can, for at least this day.

Doyoung leads you to the middle of the hall, one hand on the small of your back and the other intertwined with yours. Having to dance under the prying eyes of an audience adds to the painted blush of your cheeks, and the only way you can calm is by looking at Doyoung’s face. You almost step on his foot once or twice, but you’re glad no one notices the prince’s mild winces. You think Doyoung is probably going to scold you afterwards, and you let yourself frown a little. You aren’t a child, but well, this isn’t exactly what you had prepared for; dancing has never been your area of expertise, especially with a partner, and you find yourself counting the seconds till this is over.

“Why are we doing this?” you whisper to Doyoung.

“It’s called a waltz,” he replies, nonchalantly.

“I know that,” you glare at him. Seriously, you can’t be that bad. But you’re relieved when it’s over.

The sunlight streams in and forms perfect patterns on Doyoung’s face, the pretty curve of his lips or the sharp bridge of his nose highlighted for you, and all others to see. Some glare at you or sigh as if wishing they were in your place. You could almost laugh. You wish you were in theirs. It’s no doubt Doyoung looks better than most princes, but the resulting grudge of being enforced to do something blinds you to it. You’d never admit it at this point—after all, will it give you your freedom, your happiness? So you shut your mouth and smile every time a lady passes by to compliment him, or tell the two of you how sweet a pair you make.

You cry to sleep your first night after getting married, sleeping as far as possible from the man you’re bound to. You think Doyoung might have heard your whimpers, but you don’t care. If you’re going to be miserable either way, what’s the point in hiding it? The pillows wet with your tears and the cold prickles your cheek, and you flip it over for a warmer, dryer part to rest on. This exchange goes on till you tire of crying, till your eyes run out of tears. You don’t think you’ve cried this much in quite a while, but the feeling doesn’t reduce with time. Tiredness might just be the only thing to lull you to sleep.

Doyoung had probably fallen asleep far before you realize; you don’t feel him shift or move and the only sound coming from him are soft, steady breaths. You fall asleep to Doyoung’s breathing, the only thing to ease the grasping feeling in your chest.

You might have felt a ghost of a touch across your cheek in the morning, but you refuse to believe it was Doyoung’s or any attempt at comforting you on his part.

It’s freezing in the mornings and at night—curse the Winter Palace to be perched atop a hill; the clouds occasionally kiss the palace towers, its icy breath shrouding the area. Doyoung tells you it’s one of the warmer regions of the north, and you’d find the harbour further south. The prince of the north knows how to handle cold, and you’ll have to learn too. In fact, you have a lot to learn. You know the kingdom ends at the ice wastelands at the north and the harbour at the south, but you hardly remember the rest of its geography despite your old tutor’s best efforts. So even if you were to try sneaking away to be with yourself, somewhere far for even a little while, you wouldn’t know where to go. You’re too embarrassed to ask Doyoung, and he doesn’t seem like he’d be willing to answer you without some snide remark.

Homesickness comes in waves, and leaves you a little nauseous, a little in despair. It shows on your features, the circles under your eyes, your parched lips, the hollowness in your eyes, or the slowing of your pace. Sometimes you take aimless walks in the evening, sometimes you struggle to breathe at night. The glances from Doyoung don’t scream worry to you, but they aren’t completely at peace either. Perhaps he feels sorry for you. Whatever it is, you don’t need his pity—you’re not a child nor a slave, and you’d rather he look at you as an equal, capable of the same things he is. It is perhaps your work that keeps you sane during these terrible bouts of homesickness—the planning for the trade between kingdoms, the right policy to adopt for the people, how to enhance the economy. You have a say in all of these, and you’d claim to be even better than Doyoung if you hadn’t seen him at work, his thinking sharp and detailed.

If there’s anything you love about the Winter Palace, it’s the view from your room. You can see the far ocean between the two rising pieces of land, the small hills always reminding you of the flower fields in your kingdom. The hills are coated in various hues, and it’s a marvellous sight during different times of day, with the changing moods of the sun. Doyoung occasionally stands beside you to admire the sunsets, but you barely exchange any words, before any one of you goes inside. Sometimes he looks as though he wants to say something, but the silence stays, only broken by the call of the birds or a particularly strong breeze.

The Winter Palace, ironically, faces the mildest of the northern winter. The ones further north aren’t as lucky as you, to survive winter with just a few thick coats and warm boots, and you’re almost glad the capital is here. It could have been closer to the harbour, in your opinion, but that made it vulnerable to spies and attacks from foreign countries. You still hate the stupid weather.

Doyoung might as well represent the climate with the cold words that come out of his mouth. He doesn’t like to appear soft or sweet or helpless in any way, and it irks you. He speaks too bold, too loud even, and he likes making his disapproval obvious. You’ve had arguments with him before on how one should behave in a public setting, so you let it go occasionally but sometimes it just blows out of proportion, how he can get away with whatever he wants. You know it’s not completely true, but the thoughts cross your mind anyway.

As the days leap forward, it seems as though Doyoung and you have made a silent pact to stay at least half a metre away from each other. His touch would be too foreign, and a kiss even more alien, even if it is to prove your sham of a marriage as true. The last time you felt the fleeting touch of his fingers was perhaps at the wedding. You hear rumours now; the people don’t believe in your ‘love’, or the treaty, and if it progresses into further unease between the nations, you’re done for. After several arguments, you adopt a policy with Doyoung of at least linking arms in your monthly strolls through the city.

The war might have died, but there’s still a long time to go before the people accept each other. Doyoung and you still struggle to deal with the aftermath of your grandparents’ actions, and the progress occasionally gets delayed. But Doyoung and you were trained better than this, and you might even come to pride yourself on what you’ve achieved so far. Doyoung still holds his frown during council meetings, but you’ve seen at least a ghost of a smile across his features at your unorderly remarks.

“I don’t understand why the princess must be present during these meetings,” the head of the treasury had once commented.

“It’s Queen for you,” you had retorted, “and if the presence of a woman makes you so uncomfortable, I think you’re underqualified to be in this position.”

Some had snickered at the treasury head’s red face, some had solemnly agreed with you. But Doyoung maintained that neutral expression of his, urging the council to move with matters more pressing, and you still think you had imagined the corners of lips curving upwards. It doesn’t make sense to you how that thought actually gives you a strange flickering hope. The thought of making him smile makes you strangely excited, and a little happy even.

“You don’t like them?” you ask Doyoung, nervously glancing at the palace guard dogs.

“What? They’re alright,” he says, looking the other way.

“You’re scared of dogs?” you ask, amused.

“No,” he presses, his eyebrows knit together. “I’m not afraid of dogs.”

“Whatever you say,” you smile, and make your way towards the dogs, one hand raised to let them know you’re no enemy.

The dogs love you, and the whole palace knows it by now. They sprint across the garden and into your arms, and you’re almost knocked over by the force they arrive with. You scratch the back of their ears and brush your fingers through their fur. Doyoung looks at you, confused but approaches carefully.

“You know they’re trained to kill, right?” he tells you.

“And we’re trained to be fake, but that doesn’t sound too fun, does it?” you reply, not taking your eyes off the dogs.

Doyoung crouches beside you, still beware of the dogs and looks at them. Maybe you’re imagining things again but Kim Dongyoung actually smiles, his gums showing and a little laugh escapes his mouth. It sounds wonderful to you, and you let your smile grow into a wider one.

“That one has funny ears,” he comments.

“Well that one actually chewed off a man’s arm last week,” you inform.

“Oh,” Doyoung retreats his hand that was about to pet the dog.

The two of you laugh and the dogs join in with their little howls, and it’s the first time you feel as if the world isn’t against you.

Months pass by and it is enough to discern rumour from truth for the man you call your husband, the first being his cold-bloodedness. Even you might have thought that of him at the very beginning, but heartless? Doyoung is anything but heartless—you’ve seen the way he treats his subordinates, the council members, his people, even the way he offers a sliver of kindness to prisoners who do not deserve it. He might have been cold towards you but it’s only the ice that forms naturally in a forced relationship. He talks a lot to his subordinates—he talks a lot in fact, but not to you. Well, he does but it’s not enough. He usually initiates small talk in an attempt to make you feel comfortable; you know it’s only for your sake and you are grateful, but it doesn’t feel enough, doesn’t feel whole. Do you expect more from him simply because he’s your husband? You probably don’t deserve it when you haven’t shown him kindness of the same.

Doyoung’s habits worm their way into your subconscious near the end of a year, and you don’t feel any change adjusting yourself to him. It’s a thing you never thought you’d be able to do—to leave the comforts of home and find a new one in a man you barely knew. But now you recognize him through the tone of his voice, the twitch of his lips and the light in his eyes. He hates walking all the way to the courtroom every day, and he especially hates running or any other form of physical exertion. (“Because sweating is disgusting.”) He prefers studying in the library to fencing out in the fields, yet he is still an above average combatant. He can never handle spicy food and it had taken quite a while to cure his hiccups after trying the gifts from the southern prince. Doyoung likes his sleep, and he prefers finishing work early to go back to your bedroom and rest. At least there’s one thing you have in common, and it’s your love for sleep.

Doyoung can’t sleep without a pillow. The first night you’d wedged a pillow between the two of you and he’d narrowed his eyes at you for taking his pillow. The discomfort had only lasted a while before he’d brought in an armful of pillows to place all of them around him. Every day since, you sleep in a castle of pillows, Doyoung’s touch never within your reach. It’s the way you’ve both managed to build your own walls that makes you realize that maybe you should’ve walked out when you had the chance. That maybe you could have found a life elsewhere, somewhere in the midst of freedom and not trapped within your own walls. Studying Doyoung is a thing that tells you how he acts or what he’s about to do, but there’s only so much you can understand when you don’t even know what he’s thinking.

The second winter brings about illness and you are not spared. It’s the first time you see Doyoung worried and a little panicked maybe, but you shake off the idea that it’s because he has any feelings whatsoever for you. If you died, he’d probably have to take a new wife and it’s another hassle all over again. The thought makes you uneasy; just when you’re getting used to the place, you might have to leave again, even if the leave holds freedom.

“Do you always have to move your arms in your sleep?” Doyoung asks, irritably. “You almost toppled over your breakfast.

“Ugh,” you grunt, flipping over to turn your back to him.

“Are you not going to eat?”

“Stop nagging me,” you say. You forgot formalities somewhere in the middle of summer.

“I am not nagging you,” he complains, “You sleep too much.”

“Are you really complaining about someone who’s dying?” you snort.

“You’re not dying,” he replies quietly.

You maintain silence for a few moments, and you think he’s walked out, even if you didn’t hear footsteps. You turn to find warm eyes staring at your form under the blankets, and it’s the first time you see the ice melting.

“Why are you here anyway?” you cough out.

“I just thought I’d stay with my wife,” he mumbles. You hear him clearly, but you don’t know why the blood rushes to your cheeks, for you’re sure he’s referring to what you’d look like to the palace workers and the people. You’re glad he sees the red in your cheeks as sickness, and you hug the blankets closer.

“Are you cold?” he asks, standing up.

“No!” you rush, “don’t come any closer- you’ll get sick!”

“Of course not. I’m not stupid like you.”

“That’s no way to talk to the queen,” you grumble.

“You don’t exactly speak the way you’re supposed to speak to the king either.”

“Touché.”

Doyoung’s gestures grow increasingly warm, and perhaps they had always been warm but you were too busy looking for the cold. Yet you still refuse to give in—it’s a dangerous thing to be the one with feelings in a doomed relationship. Doyoung takes care of you almost better than the nurses; he mostly stays by your side, and makes sure your recovery is the priority. He has your prescription memorized, and he’s faster at providing you with your medicine than your caretakers. Doyoung prefers you stick to the herbal products, and although the taste makes you gag, you have it anyway for fear of the reappearance of Doyoung’s rants. He nags you to no end anyway—apparently anything you do is too dangerous to him. You once called him mother as a result and his annoyed face was funnier than anything that comes out of his mouth (“I’m offended you would think that.” “You’re not as funny as you think you are. No one in the council thinks you’re funny.” “They have no sense of humour, and neither do you, it seems.”). He laughs and jokes with you as a friend and it doesn’t help the warmth blooming in your chest. Marriages like yours aren’t meant to carry love.

“Read to me,” you tell Doyoung, when you watch him trace the edge of the papers of the book he’s reading. The candlelight barely allows you to see his face, but he keeps it posted on a stand beside him to read.

“You’d find it boring,” he says, not moving.

“There you go with assuming again,” you click your tongue.

“Fine,” he says, “It’s about kings and queens.”

“You’re right. It is boring.”

You hear Doyoung’s exasperated sigh and smile to yourself. Why do you love to get on his nerves so much? It doesn’t really matter though; you’d just like to relish in the moment.

“I can tell you a story though,” Doyoung says, cutting the silence. There’s a strange uncertainty in his voice and your ears perk up faster than usual. “It’s a story the villagers like to tell their children—about the time the god of mischief got into trouble for his pranks.”

It’s the first time you realize that you really like Doyoung’s voice. He can sing too as you’ve heard him do in the evenings when he thinks no one is around. His voice, as warm as honey, gives you a taste of hot chocolate on your tongue, or the essence of sunset and the peace of sleep. It’s like the feeling of air filling your lungs and you’re glad you have a reason to breathe. Doyoung’s voice is charming and pacifying at the same time, and strangely home, and you rest easier knowing he’s with you.

You think you should owe your life to Doyoung. It’s quite definitely because of him that Death withdrew his hands from around you, and even in the worst of nights, it was Doyoung that really brought you back. You return from sickness a little kinder to your husband, if not entirely. You speak easier to him, without overflowing jabs at each other and it’s honestly refreshing to be husband and wife for once. Well, not exactly. It’s refreshing to not treat each other as enemies for once, to be friends perhaps.

Doyoung still won’t touch you though, even a gentle caress or a pat on the back, and it’s not like you expect him to. It’s still too foreign, too strange but it gets frustrating at times when you feel your heart in your mouth. You try to shake it off, try to ignore it, bury it, anything, but the cursed feelings gnaw at your chest and soul. Maybe you’ve grown too used to his worried glances, or the care in his voice. Did you miss being taken care of, being a little pampered? Or perhaps, despite your best judgement, had you fallen for the prince of the north? Sometimes you wish Doyoung hadn’t been so kind to you that month.

“Are you not going to bed?” Doyoung asks you, dressed in your night gown, staring ruefully from the balcony. He’s just arrived from the negotiations with the neighbouring kingdom, as you can tell from his full suit and the glimmering crown atop his head that looks like a structure sculpted out of crystals of ice, a thing only the finest of sculptors could do. He stares at you with round eyes, like it’s really you he finds special, and not as if you’re the one that probably ruined his life. You don’t blame him for yours turning out this way, but then again, who knows what he’s thinking?

“Do you want me on the bed with you that bad?” you joke, but Doyoung turns red. Maybe your innuendos really do get to him.

“I just thought you’d be sleeping,” he grumbles, “That’s what you usually do.”

He walks inside, and sets his crown atop the dresser. He’s never treated it as a prized possession, or like its worth; it’s just something he has, but doesn’t particularly want.

You hug yourself when a particularly strong breeze blows your way. Spring never seems to show its face in this kingdom, but you bear it just to look at the stars. They bring you peace, a certain harmony in their existence. Maybe it’s the fact that when you’re gone, when your kingdoms no longer exist, when there are kings and queens no longer, the stars will still be there. And whoever you are, no matter what life you’re having, you can still look at them, still wonder.

Doyoung appears to drape his coat around you, and it startles you, jumping at the sudden contact. Your movement startles Doyoung too as he raises his arms in defence.

“Sorry,” you apologize at the same time.

Doyoung is the first one to smile, and the flutters reappear in your chest.

“Guess the habits don’t go away,” he says, turning his head to look up at the sky.

You shrug and pull the coat closer as subtly as possible. It smells like rich perfume, roses and jasmines, but there’s also another scent, a scent that’s completely Doyoung. You would never admit how calming that smell is, or how you wish you had more of it.

“Do you have a favourite?” Doyoung asks. It’s surprising to see him ask questions again months after he’d given up trying to pry answers out of you.

“Not really,” you tell him. It’s true. You’ve never really thought about it, if you could pick a favourite star. They’re all lovely and bright in their own ways.

“Me neither,” he shrugs.

You stand there with him till the silence becomes unbearable and the air too cold. That night, there are less pillows between the two of you, and your cheeks heat up at the embarrassing thoughts that inevitably cross your mind, the touches that could be.

The few days of spring are celebrated with a ball, the grandest gathering of the entire north. The other northern princes partake in organizing, and the entire lands come to celebrate. It’s not the first time you’re visiting, but it is the first time you’re hosting. Last year, spring had decided to not show up, and the ball had been cancelled altogether, much to your dismay and Doyoung’s relief. (“It’s not very fun when you’re hosting it.” “Maybe you just don’t know how to host.”)

Now that you think about it, hosting is pretty difficult. Although the work has been divided among several managers, you and Doyoung have to oversee all of it, and you think you’ll break your back by the time spring is over. Everything needs to be perfect, from the music and performances to last minute details like the colour of the curtains in the ballroom, or the intensity of light coming from the chandeliers. The fireworks for the last day have to be perfectly timed, and the science staff’s new colours have to be tested. The security needs to be tightened around the entrance, and guards have to be posted at every watchtower. Royalty makes enemies, and it’s never too much to be sure.

The first celebrations take place on the hilltop, the one you can see from your bedroom, full of golden calendulas. There’s an open hall at the centre, and the first day must be celebrated there with a prayer to the gods. The southern gods are different, but everyone tags along nonetheless to watch the ice sculptures and water-dancers that are infamous across the entire land. The dancers appeal to the gods, while the musicians sing hymns and prayers in ancient tongue, in front of the intricately carved block of stone. It’s the ancestral stone of the royal family, and every major event, every inauguration takes place with a flurry of prayers to ancestors and gods. You wonder if Doyoung had to send his prayers too at some point, when he was crowned prince.

Doyoung now can’t care less about the holy rituals and prayers, but he has responsibility to maintain. He stands at the back of the crowd, not really paying attention, although people stop to stare at him occasionally. He wears his navy blue suit with the golden leaves again, with the sparkling diamond crown perched atop is head, and he looks uncomfortable at best. The problem is that he looks dashing, the handsome prince he’s rumoured to be, and the ladies staring at him make you more annoyed than you’d like to admit.

Before you can approach him, he’s pulled by the arm by his brother and they sneak into a room when no one’s looking. Curiosity hasn’t been your most rewarding quality, and you follow, feet nimble and fast.

“You’re okay with this?” Gongmyung whispers when he’s sure they’re out of earshot.

“What?”

“This? The marriage, and everything?”

“I think you’re over a year late,” Doyoung says drily.

“If you haven’t adjusted in over a year, that’s a problem, isn’t it?”

“Not what I meant. Are you really asking me how I feel about something I was forced to do?” Doyoung’s voice raises slightly. “And this long after it’s already happened? You were barely there at the wedding too!”

“Not everything you’re forced to do has to be bad,” Gongmyung says, “And I couldn’t have stopped it even if I were there.”

“Well, you’re wrong and everything is terrible. I never wanted this.”

You feel a pang of hurt in your chest. You thought he was warming up to you, when in reality, he’s probably been hating every second he’s with you. Hell, he probably blames you for the marriage like you blamed him in the beginning. You start walking away, careful as to not alert them, and Gongmyung’s chiding fades away as quick as possible.

Well, if Doyoung really doesn’t care, why should you? You take a seat in the middle of the audience, hopefully blended in and replay all your interactions with Doyoung, anger bubbling in your chest. Was he pretending to be nice for your sake? Does he think of you as some poor creature that needs pity? Or does he hate you so much that he wants to hurt you, take your heart and burn it?

A gentle tap on your shoulder snaps you out of it, and you’re met with the last person you want to see. You honestly thought your outfit was inconspicuous enough.

“Why are you here?” Doyoung asks. “You’re supposed to sit at the royal table.”

“I don’t want to,” you scowl.

Doyoung seems to be a little taken aback by your sour mood, but he retaliates nonetheless.

“You’re being childish!” he accuses. “What’s got you so upset?”

You.

“Is that what you think of me? A child?” you grumble.

“You’re certainly acting like one,” Doyoung says, his lips curled into a frown.

“I don’t care, I don’t even want to be here,” you say, getting up to leave.

Doyoung grabs your arm, and even through the silk gloves, his touch is as cold as ice.

“Let me go,” you says, your voice low, and Doyoung complies with a nervous gulp.

You don’t speak to him the rest of the day, and go to bed early just to avoid him.

Doyoung spends the next few days wondering what went wrong, why you’re either avoiding him or getting into more and more arguments with him. He hates it, the way he loses his temper with you, how you’re the one seeing this side of him that no one has seen with the exception of his brother. He hates this part of himself, and you’re the last person he wants to be seeing that.

The morning starts with yet another argument, and Doyoung sighs internally. Sometimes he wishes he could shut your pretty little mouth with a kiss, but the thought itself is weirdly embarrassing to Doyoung, and his face gets too hot when he thinks of it. Will he ever be able to tell you? That he’s fallen for you despite his best efforts, despite fate being against the two of you?

Why had he? Is it because he felt like a boy, not a prince, with you? Or is it because how easy it’s become to talk to you? Maybe the fact that you’re almost as good as him at pulling up strategies, and coming up with efficient design plans. Whatever it is, the blooming feeling in his chest cares for none of that, only seeking to be with you. This isn’t the kind of falling in love he thought he’d experience as a child—in fact, he didn’t even think he’d have time for it. The princes in the storybooks were hardly like him; they were strong and stupidly brave, extremely impulsive much to Doyoung’s distaste. He just assumed that’s the kind of men that women liked, and he directed his attention towards more pressing matters, like learning war strategies and how to rule. It’s not like he had a choice, but he can’t lie that he didn’t enjoy those classes.

“I don’t…I don’t feel good enough,” you say, and Doyoung snaps out of his thoughts.

He sighs. “You keep giving excuses. Tonight’s the main event, with the fireworks and all, you know?”

“I just don’t want to go,” you say, crossing your arms.

“You act like such a child sometimes,” Doyoung complains, at the end of his wits.

“You don’t even understand me,” you say, your voice low. “I have my reasons and you keep treating them like rubbish, like they don’t really matter.”

“Well, you’ve never told me them,” Doyoung says, rising to his full height. He loves the way you have to look up at him, your lips slightly parted, and oh, how he wishes you had met under different circumstances, had different feelings for each other, anything. Mostly, he wishes you would see him the way he sees you.

“You’re just picking fights on purpose,” Doyoung whispers, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Wouldn’t that make it easier?” you ask.

“Make what easier?”

“Us.”

Doyoung doesn’t respond—he still doesn’t understand, why are you looking at him so cold? Was he misunderstood, did he do something wrong? He hates the uncertainty of unspoken words, usually preferring to talk things out. But you definitely didn’t want to face him, so he let you go, the feeling in his chest weighing him down.

Doyoung admits that you look pretty in the royal dresses, but you look prettier in your nightgown gazing at the stars. Stars are too romanticized in his opinion, but they feel important when you look at them like that. The night is as majestic as it was planned to be and Doyoung sighs in relief when one by one all the events turn out to be a success. The only blemish on the perfect nights seems to be the fact that you are still ignoring Doyoung, darting from corner to corner, always out of his grasp. His frown deepens, watching you talk and laugh with almost everyone; your old friends are there too and he can’t help the jealousy sprouting in his chest. He doesn’t feel like the High Prince of the North, Kim Dongyoung, but more like a little boy, who’s losing his patience and maturity by the minute.

The last shred of Doyoung’s self-control vanishes when one of the southern princes wraps an arm around you. He strides over to your group, flashing the sweetest smile that sickens even him and excuses the two of you. He holds your hand tender but firm and pulls you out of the celebratory hall.

You know you’ve probably gone too far with your temper tantrums when Doyoung pulls you outside the hall. Yes, you’re being a little childish maybe, but at the end, you don’t want to be the one with a broken heart, forced to be with the one who broke it. If you told him, would he laugh at you? Or would he tell you he’s sorry? Would you be forced to live with the shame, the rejection, the strangling feelings? It’s better to distance yourself from the beginning, let the fights warm you with their fire if love won’t.

Doyoung’s grip on your hand is slightly uncomfortable—he’s wearing those cursed gloves again and not even the silk ones. You know he likes his hands at a comfortable temperature but it’s ridiculous how he never seems to part with them.

“Do-doyoung,” you say, pulling at his hand so he stops and turns to face you. He looks dishevelled, a slight anger in his eyes and lips pursed.

“My hand,” you say.

“Sorry,” he chokes out, retreating his hand. He looks as though he’s fighting several thoughts, deciding what to do. He bites the inside the inside of his cheek, and you smile at how he looks like a rabbit, like a mountain hare you’ve seen around here to be precise.

“What’s so funny?” Doyoung asks, furrowing his brows.

“You,” you laugh.

“Oh really now?” He raises an eyebrow. “Last time I remember, you said I’m not very funny.”

“Your face is funny.”

Doyoung scowls, but seems to regain composure.

“Are you going to tell me now?” he asks, his expression back to determined. “What did I do?”

“What did you do? You did nothing.” Exactly. You did nothing.

“Do you blame me?” he asks, stepping closer. “For the marriage?”

“Not any more than you blame me,” you tell him.

There’s a long silence before Doyoung responds, his voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t blame you.”

“Then I don’t blame you,” you say, truthfully. You never have blamed him.

Doyoung runs his fingers through his hair, a sudden but small smile gracing his lips. He steps closer once again, and clears his throat as if he’s about to say something. He looks a little nervous, like what he’s about to say carries weight, like it’s a secret others can’t know. He glances down at your lips and your heart catches in your throat. Despite everything, you still find your voice, still gather enough wits to joke.

“What? You want to kiss me? Hm?” you tease, the sarcasm dripping. Your voice goes down a notch as you grin. “Place your mouth over mine in the dark corridors where no one is looking?”

“Don’t provoke me,” he responds, the vein in his neck appearing to aid the strain in his voice. The sudden seriousness surprises you, and you find yourself face to face with a rather pissed off Doyoung. It’s never nice when his voice drops lower than usual.

“It’s just a stupid show to you, isn’t it?” he starts, the anger obvious in his voice. “You’re okay with just pretending- it doesn’t really matter to you, right?”

You don’t say anything and he continues, “Do you even know how hard it is? To be the one in love in a one-sided relationship? Do you even care?”

You stare at him in stunned silence. “It’s awful, you know? I tried, I tried my best, but do you know how hard it is to not touch you? To not hold you, to just throw my feelings away? Of course not. You don’t know how scary it is- I feel like I’ll burn at your touch.”

“There you go with assuming again,” you grumble, before raising your voice to a proper volume. “You really think I don’t know the feeling? When all I’ve been wanting is for you to kiss me this entire goddamn party?”

Doyoung purses his lips. It’s not a regular sight, him being speechless. He unconsciously moves forward, and you press a hand against his burning cheeks.

“Doyoung,” you whisper, sudden boldness coursing through you, “Kiss me.”

Doyoung doesn’t waste a moment, cupping your face and leaning in. The feeling is exquisite, far more than anything you’ve tasted, or smelt, even if Doyoung bumped his nose against yours a little too hard at first. He takes his time kissing you, the repressed feelings pouring out as though this is his only chance at redeeming them. The pressure against your lips is the warmest thing you’ve felt in the northern kingdoms, and you smile against Doyoung’s lips. He pushes you against the wall for better support, and you find your arms moving to wrap around him, subjecting yourself to him and his touch as much as you can. He tastes sweet, like the wine he had tasted earlier and the kiss is slow, fulfilling and perfect.

“Please get rid of those stupid gloves,” you murmur against his lips.

Doyoung removes them wordlessly, and discards them into some corner, before pressing his thumb against your cheek. His hands are warmer than you remember, and you take them in yours to kiss his knuckles. If he wasn’t red enough already from the kiss, he turns redder and you feel your ego swell some more. You lean back in, and your lips press gently against his this time, and he hums in satisfaction. You kiss in the dark corridors where no one can see you, but it’s the kind of kiss that is supposed to be spoken of only between two.

“You’re very stupid,” Doyoung tells you in the morning, eyes still sleepy.

“I was expecting a ‘good morning, love of my life!’ but okay,” you glare at him. It’s the first time the pillows aren’t there between you, but Doyoung’s touch is as good and soft as any.

“You made me so worried the past few days,” he says, a frown making its way onto his face.

“You didn’t look very worried when your tongue was in my mouth.”

“Do you have to be this way?” Doyoung says, his face and ears a brilliant red.

“I was kidding but I couldn’t resist the idea of your blushy face,” you say, smugly.

“I don’t think that’s a word, and I swear I’ll get back at you one of these days,” he says, glaring.

You smile and place your fingers on Doyoung’s cheek. You’re glad to find them still warm from the sudden rush of blood. Doyoung smiles back, his lips stretching into his adorable gummy smile, and the mushy feeling comes back at the sight.

“I didn’t know it would turn out this way,” you say.

“Me neither,” he breathes out.

You move closer to Doyoung and rest your head against his chest. His heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest, all of them give you a feeling you didn’t think you’d be able to feel after getting married, after handing over your freedom. The touch of a lover, kisses pressed against your mouth, they were all stories made to charm little princesses. And although you know they came at a cost, you wouldn’t take it back. You don’t regret it, not at all now. Doyoung gives you peace, a different kind of freedom altogether and you wouldn’t ever let that go.

Doyoung rubs his thumb in circles at the small of your back, humming a familiar tune. You cherish the moments now, for you never know what the future is hiding. You know you’ll be throwing a lot less tantrums from now on—Doyoung likes talking it out, and for once, you’ll admit it’s the better way to sort problems. It’s the way the little things mesh to bind your lives that makes you see clearly. You’re lucky—you really are, to have fallen in love with the man you were supposed to. But you’re blessed to have fallen in love with a man who fell in love with you, who you wouldn’t regret spending the end of your days with.

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imajin-that · 6 years ago

Text

wǒ ài nǐ💞

Thank you for waiting so long for this to come out.. I apologize immensely! I hope you all enjoy it, feel free to send in a request if you have one; our info page is linked in our bio! XOXO Yoongs~

☆2.5k words☆

__________

You walk into SM, you had an hour before the film crew was suppose to show up for your filming. You decided to go and try and find your other halves for the day- Lucas and Taeyong.

Today you were going to be an NCT U member, you were asked to try and train and participate in schedules just like the other members would. You were a mix of emotions- but mostly excited but kind of worried. You knew how hard the boys worked for what they wanted. As an old SM trainee, you were close with the members of nct before you switched companies. You stayed in touch with all the members, but you were especially close to Lucas and Taeyong. So when the PD of the special asked who you wanted to follow you had no hesitation picking them. Despite leaving SM, all those years of countless nights practicing they'd call you the hidden 19th member for NCT no matter what company you were under.

When you finally reach the boys’ practice room you see all eighteen of them gathered in the middle of the room, you assume they're having a meeting before practice or maybe just a quick talk about small changes that needed to be made. It was only 8am and they looked so tired and almost on the break of collapsing; looking as if they hadn't slept in days, maybe even weeks. You were brought out of your thoughts by your name being called, when you glanced up, Ten was standing in front of you in the doorway inviting you in to join the rest of them.

“Are you coming in or what?” Jaemin shouts from across the room.

“Watch your tone, she’s older than you!” Johnny said, smacking the back of Jaemin’s head.

“Ah, sorry nuna.” Jaemin says bowing at you and Johnny. You smile at how cute Jaemin was as you make your way into the room. You sit on one of the couches in the corner as to not distract them and only watch, maybe even encourage them.

About forty minutes later, the camera crew and PD had finally arrived. You, Taeyong, and Lucas lead them to a different practice room, not wanting to inconvenience the others.

Most of the morning was dedicated to learning the new choreography for the first unit song that would be released with this episode. While learning the choreo, the boys let the viewers in on some of the details of the new album and NCT U’s song BOSS. The most noteworthy points dropped were the fact that all units had at least one song and that the new album will have a new version of Black on Black featuring all 18 members.

When you finally got the choreo down completely, it was lunch time, so the producer suggested the team take a lunch break before you move in to the next schedule. The three of you head to the cafeteria with the camera crew and producer following behind, offering up your opinion on what's good when you arrive. Once you all get your food, you sit at the table you had marked as the “cool kids table” back when you were still a trainee. You always sat with the boys, much to your group mates confusion; but as far as you were concerned, this was where you were meant to sit. You just enjoyed being around them more, your group was never down to talk about the weird things you wanted to since it was “gross” or “something only guys talk about”

You never really fit in with your old group members, that's one of the reasons you decided to leave. The other was the fact you got a better offer from JYP himself. While you were deep in thought you didn't notice Lucas looking at you, it wasn't just a glance either. Lucas had been looking at you for about a solid 5 minutes, admiring your features; the way your hair always gets caught in your lip gloss if you move to fast or the way your eyes sparkle when talking about something you love and are passionate about. He loved the way you smiled when you took a bite of your food, and the soft moan you made when you found it delicious.

After lunch you all made your way to the next schedule. You meet the rest of the NCT U members on location, the boys had a six hour block of photoshoots for 3 different magazines to promote the new group formation and album. You sat back most of the time and admired the hard work that was being put forth by all seven members. But when the PD had suggested you to join in a few of the photos to get the feel of what the boys were doing you agree with the approval of the photographer. Even though you’ve done this many times before for your own promotions it felt….different. It was completely different from being a soloist, the room was more chaotic but also calm in a way; everyone knew their place and job. You’ve never had anyone care for you like they do for each other, they had one another to keep them company and keep them grounded and not lost in the stress of the fast past environment. It was great seeing all of them motivating one another in such a loving fashion; something you didn't get to experience.

After a few shots and poses you step out of the spotlight and let the boys continue with their work, the crew leaves a little before the three of you to set up in the practice room again. They had suggested the episode end where is started and you agreed, seeing as the boys were almost done you decided to wait for them instead of going back with the crew. You watch as the boys goof around in front of the camera but couldn't help but notice Lucas being well… Lucas. You laugh at his sad attempt at telling Winwin a joke in korean (mind you neither of them know in depth korean, Lucas learned this joke from Taeil while he was telling his lame dad jokes).

“Sicheng-hyung What time did the man go to the dentist?”

“When?”

“Tooth hurt-y.” Lucas says with a huge grin on his face ignoring Winwins un-bothered state.

“Boo Xuxi, you could have done better than that!” you say from across the room laughing a bit.

“Okay, then Y/N what do you have since you think my joke was bad?” he responds back with a smug look on his face.

“What did the horse say after it tripped?” You say already laughing at your own joke.

“What did it say Y/N?” he says with a curious expression.

"Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t giddyup!” You start laughing so hard you snorted and got embarrassed. Lucas blushes a bit finding it super cute, he hides his face so you can't see it.

“Honestly… both of your jokes are weak!” Taeyong says scoffing.

“Well do you have anything better pretty boy?” Lucas asks looking over at Tae, you nod your head in agreement with Lucas.

“Lay it on us TY Track!” you chime in after Lucas.

“Okay, get ready to cry laughing!”

“Just tell the joke Mr.Track” you say giggling.

“How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?” You glance over and see Doyoung roll his eyes.

“Ten-tickles!” Tae starts laughing so hard he bends over a bit to slap is knee. “what a dad move” you think watching him.

“You're all terrible at telling jokes, please just stop!” Doyoung says, looking completely done.

“Yes mom” you say joking with him, but the other two choose to sulk at the harsh words given to them by mother Kim.

After another hour the boys are finally done with all the photo shoots, it was well past dinner time but seeing as you still had a few things to shoot for the show, you three just head straight back to the SM building to meet the camera crew. This segment was a wrap up of the day and a special self performance of BOSS for the crew and boys (along with viewers) to show support for the comeback. You get praise from both the boys (mostly Lucas actually), they continue to tell you how well you followed the beat and steps you only learned this morning. You thank them multiple times and blush at the influx of compliments directed at you suddenly. After the video shoot ended the crew packed up and made their way out slowly, once everyone was gone you mention your hunger to mother Tae.

“Taeyong-oppa!! I'm hungry, will you treat us to yummy food? We haven't eaten since lunch!” you say with puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah Taeyong-hyung please treat us to yummy yummy food” Lucas says in his gross aegyo voice, causing Tae to cringe a bit before speaking.

“First- Lucas please never say that to me again, let alone in that voice. Second - what do you heathens want to eat? I'll let you both pick something since you worked so hard today.” he says smiling and petting your head.

“I want pizza!” You say super excited looking up at him with a big grin.

“what about you Yukhei?” Tae asks looking over at a jealous Lucas, who was upset he wasn't the one petting you like that, jealous he's not the one you're looking at with that loving smile.

“Chicken” he said kind of cold.

“So it's settled, I'll go order it all and have it delivered along with some tteokbokki” He says walking over to grab his phone before he walks out of the room to make the calls. You look over at Lucas and notice he looks a little upset, you think for a moment before saying something.

“Xu are you alright?”

“Yeah, no need to worry. Just over thinking.” he says giving you a small smile before pulling out his phone to avoid talking about his jealousy.

“Oh, alright” you say in a low tone, you two remain quiet until Taeyong returns.

“So we have some time to kill before the food gets here if you guys wanna just hangout and talk or something.” he says shrugging a bit before sitting next to you on the floor in the middle of the practice room. Lucas noticed and darts over to your other side as fast as he could.

“This may be super sappy, but after today it really puts a light on how much I miss seeing you guys all the time. Work keeps us both so busy and it sucks.” you say looking at both of them.

“We miss you too, I also know for a fact the other boys of the group miss you as well… The dreamies bring you up whenever they can, that than leads into others agreeing and it turns into like a half hour discussion on how we all miss you.” Taeyong says smiling at you than looking over to Lucas for his nod of agreement. You look back at all the time you've spent with them all, the time you spent with the dreamies helping them practice their vocals and dance. You remember when you first met them all, and the memory of making a fool of yourself when you first met Lucas- And speaking of that moment…

“Hey remember when you first met Lucas?” Taeyong asks looking over at you with a huge smile in his face.

“Of course I do” you say embarrassed. Taeyong pauses for a moment to collect himself before talking

“You went in so confident, and left so discouraged.”

“Listen I thought I could trust Chenle okay, I didn't think he'd stab me in the back like that.”

“Please, you should have known not to trust him when you first met him!” Taeyong says with a scoff

“Even I knew that when I first met him Y/N!” Lucas chimes in suddenly before you could speak.

“HeLlO My NaMe Is Y/N, I JuSt WeNt tO ThE bAtHrOoM iN mY PaNtS”(you said this in super broken chinese you learned from Lele) Taeyong mocks you in a joking manner before pulling you into him for a hug, you let him embrace you but don't put effort toward hugging back. Lucas looks away before getting upset at the situation unravelling in front of him.

“So what did you guys think of the shoot today?” you ask trying to change the subject escaping Taeyong's grip. But suddenly the discussion was interrupted by a knock at the door, you offer to get it since you were closer. Lucas follows in your tracks.

“I'm a big girl Xu I can do this myself!” You say looking back at him.

“What if its food? You can't carry that all yourself!”

“Ha watch me!” you say playfully pushing past him and running toward the door. As you sat back down with food in hand you look over at Lucas-

“See, told you I was a big girl and could get it myself” you say with a big grin, he couldn't help but smile back admiring that beautiful smile of yours.

“I guess so Y/N” he says still smiling.

As soon as you guys finished eating you look down at your phone and notice what time it was “1 am huh?” you thought. You stand up and stretch before mentioning the time, the boys play rock paper scissors to see who stays and cleans up. Lucas won by a landslide leaving Taeyong to clean up everything.

“Sorry to cut the night short but I have a 9 am meeting with Mr. Park Jinyoung himself tomorrow so I should head home before it gets any later” you say bowing toward them.

“Do you mind if I walk you home Y/N? It's pretty late and you don't live to far from our dorm, it's no trouble to me!” Lucas asks looking over at you with semi worried eyes.

“I’d love that, thanks Xu.” you say with a smile, you both send your goodbyes to Tae before leaving. Once outside you feel a cold chill nip at your nose, you wrap your arms around yourself in hopes it will help warm you up a bit; Lucas notices and pulls you into his embrace without warning.

“If you’re cold, next time just let me know” he says in a manly tone, he tightened his grip a bit before leading the way to your apartment. Once you rounded the corner to the apartment Lucas stops in his tracks and lets go of you, you notice his scared yet worried expression and take this time to really ask what's wrong since he didn't talk earlier.

“Xuxi, what's wrong? And this time don't say nothing, I know something's bothering you.” you say in a stern voice.

“Fine, you're right, I do have something to get off my chest and it's been weighing me down since you left SM three years ago.”

“And why did you wait so long to say something?” you ask in concern

“I've never had the courage, I barely have it now Y/N.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“wǒ ài nǐ Y/N” he says softly....

#lucas #yukhei #lucas x reader #nct lucas x reader #nct lucas #yukhei x reader #nct yukhei x reader #taeyong #lee taeyong #nct taeyong #nct taeyong x reader #taeyong x reader #taeyong imagines #taeyong text posts #nct #nct 2018 #nct u #nct 127

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jaeminlore · 8 years ago

Text

Protect You // Kim Doyoung

the prompt: can I request “You just “rescued” me from a dragon, and you look so proud, but that dragon is actually my best friend. Oops.“ Au with nct Doyoung Pretty please with cherry on top

words: 4031

category: fantasy + fluff

author note: i had to rewrite this three times lol. i like how it turned out though. doyoung is so lovely and deserves more love~ please enjoy!

- destinee

Ten years ago, you met Lucky. Of course, the dragon was only a fledgling at the time, just as you were only a child.

Being a curious kid, you would often run away from the safety of your backyard to explore the forest behind you. You would overturn rocks and climb trees to see if you could find yourself a bug or a small reptile to play around with.

Your lucky day came when you climbed a tree, only to see a baby dragon sleeping on the highest branch. Dragons were rare in your country, known for being big and ferocious creatures who often murdered anyone they came across. They were also major kleptomaniacs who crept into people’s homes and stole their gold and jewelry.

You were only around eight years old. Dragons weren’t scary to you. In fact, they were a part of your daily bedtime routine. Your mother liked to tell you stories about a knight coming to rescue the princess from the dragon.

Now, seeing a small silver dragon sleeping on a branch, your heart swelled up with affection. You were only a child. All you saw in front of you was a new pet to take home.

You scooped the little dragon into your arms and climbed down the tree cautiously. Then you ran back to your house, eager to show your mother your new friend.

Needless to say, your mother wasn’t amused. Still, she knew that you were a lonely kid, and what better way to protect her daughter than a fire-breathing dragon?

She gave you permission to keep and train him.

You named him Lucky. He grew up with you. Where you grew past five feet, he grew past twenty. You hid him in the forest behind your house. It was more than ten acres of land, complete with a large cave for Lucky to nap in.

You fed him fish and gifted him in little gold coins. Of course, your afternoons were spent playing fetch with and riding the oversized reptile.

Lucky was your best friend, and there was no one else you wanted by your side.

Doyoung stood at attention with his fellow knights-in-training.

All his life he had wanted to be a knight, protecting his country from harm. Although school was hard, Doyoung wasn’t sure he would trade this opportunity for anything.

He only had half of a year left before he was finally offered knighthood by the royal family. All he would have to do was a few tasks.

The first of which was being announced at the present moment.

“Today, you will each be given an opportunity to gain instant knighthood through this challenge.”

Doyoung’s ears perked up at his teacher’s words. This was his chance.

“The princess has agreed to help us. She is hidden somewhere in the forest, being guarded by a dragon. Find the princess, defeat the dragon, and bring her back safely. Whoever does this will be knighted by the princess herself.”

Doyoung could already feel his adrenaline pumping. His fingers curled around the hilt of his sword. He was ready to save the princess. He was ready to become a real knight.

“The forest goes on for miles, and I have no idea where the dragon took the princess,” his teacher said. “You may venture wherever you wish. The task doesn’t end until the princess is safely returned. Only when you hear the horn may you return.”

When his teacher told them they were allowed to go, Doyoung ran in the opposite direction of all the other knight trainees.

He wanted to do this alone. He wanted to be the first knight accepted by the royal family.

He set off at an excited run.

“Lucky!” You called, entering the cavernous stone cave.

Your oversized dragon came flying at the sound of your voice, his slender body maneuvering around the stalactites and stalagmites of the cave.

The cave was humongous, which was convenient for you and your dragon. He could sleep and live comfortably. He could even fly and run around if he wanted. The endless twists and turns of the cave were enough for a human to lose his way. Luckily, Lucky was always there to make sure you could find your way out if the two of you ventured too deep.

Lately, Lucky had been obsessed with the small lake that resided inside of the cave. Like every day this month, he tugged on your sleeve with his teeth until you followed him to the water source.

“I can’t believe you are going to play in the water after I brought you your favorite cooked fish,” you said to him.

In response, Lucky splashed you with his tail.

“Hey!” You laughed, wiping the dirty water out of your eyes. “That’s no way to treat the one who raised you.”

Lucky ignored you and stuck his snout below the surface of the water. He then blew out, causing many bubbles to appear.

Since your dragon was occupied, you decided to walk around the cave. It was only known to you and Lucky. If your mother didn’t detest the idea, you would probably live here. The cool surface of the cave walls seemed to be a comfort to you as you ran your hand along them.

Suddenly, startling you, Lucky flew past, towards the opening of the cave. “Lucky, come back!”

If other people saw a healthy dragon of Lucky’s size, there was no doubt they would try to bring him down. That’s why you kept Lucky in the cave. He usually had no reason to leave, unless he felt threatened.

You ran as fast as your legs could take you. There was no way you were going to let anyone find and hurt your dragon.

“Lucky! Where did you go?” You rounded a tree and looked up, wondering if he flew into the sky.

“Princess!”

You jerked at the sound of another voice. If it was a dragon hunter, both you and Lucky were doomed.

Suddenly, your hand was grabbed and you found yourself being pulled away by a stranger. You struggled out of his grip, shouting profanities towards the man. All you could see was the back of his slender body and his dark hair.

He only held tighter to your wrist, pulling you back into the cave. His face was now visible, and bright doe-like eyes stared at you the same way a mother would. “Are you okay, Princess?”

“Princess?” You asked. You couldn’t really ask anything else at the present moment.

“Yes,” he replied, still a bit out of breath. “I rescued you from the dragon, didn’t I?”

An excited tone took on his voice as his smile grew. “Now you’re going to knight me.”

“Who are you and what are you talking about?” You pushed the strange, albeit attractive, boy away from you.

“I’m Doyoung. I’m training to be a knight. Don’t you know that?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Am I supposed to? I think you must have me confused with someone else.”

As you stepped away from him, his face fell. “You’re not the princess?”

You looked down at your ratty clothes and wondered what gave him that idea. “I’m no princess. I’m Y/n.”

“I’m not supposed to save you from a fire-breathing dragon?” His face fell, and you half wanted to pretend to be princess just to make him smile again.

His smile had been so refreshing that his frown felt like a tsunami of despair.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “But Lucky is my best friend. I don’t need saving from him.”

“Lucky?” Doyoung stood up straighter. His gaze met yours, “That’s a bit of a problem.”

“What did you do?”

Doyoung scratched the back of his neck and sent you an embarrassed smile. “I sort of tied your dragon up.”

“How did you manage to do that?”

“In retrospect, he kind of ran up to me. To see who was trespassing, I guess. So I tied him up.”

You set your face into a cold, glaring stone. “Please show me to my dragon.”

“O-Okay,” he gulped at your tone. “This way, then.”

You followed him back out into the open air, where he kept his strides quick and to the point. You ended up walking beside him, “So why do you want to be knighted so badly?”

The boy turned to you, surprised at your effort to make conversation. “Oh, well it’s always been a dream of mine to protect this country. My father was a knight, and he has always been my greatest role model.”

“So I’m guessing the dream is dead?” If he were to say yes, you’d feel guilty.

“Not necessarily,” he spoke, a lighter tone taking over his voice. “This was a task, to save the princess. If I were to complete it, I would’ve been knighted instantly. I’ll still be knighted eventually, I just really wanted to start now.”

You stopped. “I have an idea on how you can find the princess, but we need Lucky to complete it. Let’s hurry.”

Lucky didn’t even seem to care that he was tied up. He had found a small pink flower patch to keep him occupied.

You ran up to the dragon as he rolled in the floral patch. “What are you doing, you nut?”

As you scratched behind Lucky’s ears, Doyoung stood behind you nervously.

“I’m really sorry for tying him up,” he said. “I had no idea there were friendly dragons in these woods.”

“I understand.” You began to untie the knots Doyoung made. “Not many people know that dragons can be trained. That’s why I keep Lucky hidden. If any of the king’s men saw him, they would shoot him.”

You sent the boy a smile, “I’m glad you only tied him up.”

“I’m not sure I could ever actually kill one,” Doyoung admitted. “I don’t know if I have it in me.”

You listened to him, but climbed into Lucky’s back while doing it. Then you turned around and held out your arm, “Let’s go, then.”

He looked skeptical.

You rolled your eyes. “Lucky is a smooth flyer, I promise.”

He reluctantly took your hand and allowed you to help him onto the giant reptile’s back. As soon as he was seated behind you, he wrapped his arms tightly around your torso. “Okay. I think I’m ready.”

“I’m not,” you wheezed. He loosened his hold on you and apologized.

“Are you afraid of heights?” You turned to see his reaction.

With cheeks tinged pink, he averted his gaze away from you and nodded.

“Alright,” you rolled your eyes. “I guess you can hold on to me.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. The boy latched onto you and hid his face in your hair. “Tell me when we get there,” he requested, his voice muffled by your hair.

His breathing against the back of your neck was somewhat of a distraction, and you found yourself having a hard time getting Lucky in the air.

“Okay.” You took a deep breath. “Lucky, there’s another dragon somewhere near here. Can you sense him?”

Your dragon nodded, or what you assumed was a nod, and turned himself in mid air.

Doyoung’s grip around you tightened, “I don’t like this, Princess.”

“I told you I’m not a princess,” you muttered.

“Can’t I call you princess anyways?” he questioned. “It suits you.”

Currently you were dressed in peasant clothes, your hair was half out of it’s braid, and there was definitely grime on your face and under your fingernails. How in the world did being called princess suit you?

“It doesn’t suit me, though.” You said, turning your head slightly.

“Of course it does,” Doyoung argued, his soft voice right at your ear. You could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear as he spoke, “Besides, a princess is meant to be kind and helpful, brave and strong. So you’re basically a princess.”

You tried to ignore the heat that started in your stomach and crept all the way up to your neck.

Boys never talked to you. Heck, girls never even talked to you. Everyone thought you were a big liar, thanks to all the stories about Lucky that you would tell them.

You had always been a pretty friendly person, which explained your natural way of talking to Doyoung. He was only another person, someone you were helping along their way.

So why did you get butterflies every time he spoke to you? Why did his voice drip like honey and cling to your senses until you felt unable to breathe? Why did he speak so well to someone he barely knew?

Was it charisma or was it a very believable lie?

You wished your mother had taught you these things when you were a child. How to spot a lying male who only spoke with selfishness upon his tongue.

Doyoung seemed difficult for you to follow, and you wondered if there was any way to figure the boy out.

Perhaps he was the simple one and you were the one too complicated to figure out.

“We’re here,” you spoke out as Lucky began to descend onto a large, grassy knoll.

You hopped off of the dragon first, extending a helping hand to Doyoung, who looked scared to climb off of the reptile.

“It’s only ten feet, give or take,” you tried to assure him. “Just use Lucky’s leg as leverage.”

Doyoung climbed down with the speed of a sloth. When he finally grabbed your hand and landed safely on the ground, you snorted.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Doyoung said. He let go of your hand and unsheathed his sword.

“Woah,” you held out your arm. “I was just joking. No need to cut my arm off.”

Doyoung rolled his eyes and the edges of his lips drew up into a smile. “This is to save the princess, Princess.”

You glared at him. “I told you I’m not the princess.”

“I told you that I didn’t care,” Doyoung returned haughtily, smirking.

You huffed, “Let’s just go find this dragon. There’s a tower over there. That would be the cliché place to hide a princess.”

From the bottom of the tower, Doyoung looked up, squinting and shielding his eyes. “How am I supposed to get up there?”

You glanced at the vertical fortress and shrugged. “Not my problem.”

Before you could turn around and walk back to Lucky, Doyoung grabbed your wrist. “Don’t leave, please. I still need help.”

“What kind of knight are you if you need this much help from a peasant girl?”

Your grumbling only caused the boy to smile. “Would you rather me say the truth? That I like your company and want you to stay with me a little longer?”

“No,” you said, ducking your head to hide your burning cheeks. “There’s no need for that. Let’s go.”

The two of you walked around the tunnel and thankfully found the door to the staircase.

You looked at the uncountable number of stairs, “Doyoung, do I have to?”

Doyoung didn’t reply. He merely grabbed your hand and pulled you behind him as he began to climb. “C'mon, Princess.”

You grumbled, ripping your hand out from his. “This is going to take forever.”

You were right. As the two of you reached the utmost step, you collapsed onto the ground, sucking in deep gulps of air. Doyoung stood above you, only slightly winded.

He squatted down to look at you with pity, “How sad. I thought you would be in better shape than that.”

“I ride a dragon everywhere I go,” you retorted. “Of course I’m out of shape.”

Doyoung waited patiently while you lay there, struggling to pull back the strength that hid deep inside of you. Suddenly, a roar ripped through the tower. Your eyes shot open and you stood up. “It sounds angry.”

“Can we defeat it?”

You looked at the worried boy and nodded determinedly, “Of course. Here’s the plan: I’ll distract the dragon and you grab the princess and go.”

“I won’t leave you,” he said.

“You have to,” you insisted. “Otherwise, the dragon will get killed by one of your knight friends if they come find us and decide to help.”

Doyoung sighed. “Fine.”

There was only one room in the tower, so you walked into it. There, the princess lay still on a cot as a dark red dragon paced back and forth beside her.

“Wait here,” you whispered to Doyoung. You entered the room, alerting the dragon of your presence. “Hey, buddy. My name is Y/n. I bet you’d like a scratch under the chin, wouldn’t you? There we go…” The dragon began to close his eyes as you scratched under his chin.

“Doyoung, grab her and go.” you hissed.

He obliged, picking up the princess bridle style and carrying her out the door. As his footsteps got farther away, you began to back up towards the door as well.

“Good dragon,” you said lowly as the dragon began to sink down in a drowsy state. This was the technique you used to put Lucky to bed when the dragon was too wound up. You were just thankful it worked on this dragon as well.

Soon, the dragon’s head hit the bed and small snores fell from his snout. “Goodnight,” you squeaked before hightailing it out of there.

Once you reached the bottom and closed the sort behind you, you heard the unmistakable sound of a hunting horn being blown.

Doyoung must’ve returned the princess safely.

A entire month later, you were sitting against Lucky’s stomach, reading a book as he slept.

“Y/n? Are you in here?”

You jumped, startled as you heard the voice you never thought you would hear again. “Doyoung?”

He walked into the part of the cave you abided in. You looked at his form, straighter and taller. He wore a crisp, blue uniform, with badges and medals adorning the place above his heart. He looked like a true knight. “Hello, Princess.”

You smiled, putting your book to the side and standing up. “What are you doing here?”

Doyoung crossed his arms over his chest and smiled goofily, “You thought I would leave without thanking the person who helped me achieve my dream?”

You shrugged, looking down. “Kind of? I don’t know your personality.”

Doyoung stepped closer to you and reached out, gently lifting your chin to meet his eyes. “I wanted to see you sooner, but my new training has been taking up all of my time.”

He moved his hand and scratched the back of his neck and chuckled, “I kind of snuck away to see you just now.”

“Why?” You asked. “I would’ve understood.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung said. His voice than turned soft, “I just wanted to see you. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

You gestured to a sleeping Lucky, and the novel discarded. “I was just avoiding my responsibilities. I’m supposed to feed Lucky but he looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake him.”

“I could help you,” he suggested.

“Okay,” you agreed. You nudged your dragon gently. “Wake up, Lucky. Time for food.”

At the mention of food, Lucky peaked one eye open.

“I’ll go get the meat. You can stay here,” you said.

Then Lucky suddenly growled at Doyoung.

“Nope.” The knight ran away from the dragon, towards you. “I’ll go with you.”

“You’re such a baby,” you teased.

“He growled at me!”

“He growls at everyone teen minutes after being woken up and so do you, I bet.” You laughed at the way he clung to your upper arm.

“I’ll just stick with you, thanks.”

“You know,” you said as you picked up the feeding bucket. “Me and Lucky are kind of a package deal.”

“Meaning?”

You walked back to your dragon, enjoying the worried stance of Doyoung. “Meaning that we can’t be friends if you don’t like Lucky.”

“I like Lucky,” he said, a bit to quickly. “He helped me that day just as much as you did. I can’t help but be just a little nervous when a fire breathing dragon looks angry.”

“I get that.” You handed him the bucket. “Now you feed him and he’ll never be mad at you. As long as you don’t hurt me, of course.”

“That wouldn’t happen,” Doyoung said as he fed a piece of meat to Lucky. “You know, he’s kinda like a big puppy. Like a giant, scaly, man-eating puppy.”

“He doesn’t eat men,” you defended. You stepped beside Doyoung and helped him feed the dragon. “He just eats meat.”

“By the way, did you cook all this? It doesn’t look raw.” He peered into the bucket.

“Yeah, I cook everything my mom doesn’t and feed it to Lucky. I don’t want him to eat raw meat,” you laughed. “It’s gross.”

“That’s a lot of work.”

“Owning a dragon is a lot of work,” you agreed. “I think it’s worth it though. I raised him. He’s kept me company all these years so I suppose I owe it to him.”

“Don’t you have any human friends? A boyfriend? Anyone?”

You glared at him, “It’s not as pathetic as it sounds.”

“Not pathetic,” Doyoung mumbled. “Just lonely.”

You placed the bucket down, “What can you do? I spend all my time with Lucky. I can’t go out and meet new people when I have to keep this big guy entertained.”

As if he sensed you talking about him, Lucky stopped eating and looked between you and Doyoung. Then, the conniving dragon used his tail to push you into Doyoung’s arms before going back to eating like nothing happened.

Doyoung grabbed your waist to steady you and you let out a gasp. “I’m sorry,” you looked up at Doyoung. That was a bad decision, as he looked two times more handsome up close. “I, um, he must’ve been telling me it was okay to have a friend.”

You waited for Doyoung to let go of you, but he didn’t. Your hands were suspended awkwardly at your sides, afraid to touch him.

“I don’t want to be friends, Y/n,” Doyoung said.

Your arms dropped to your sides as your expression deflated. Some little piece of your heart seemed to break off as his words registered in your brain. You had gotten sort of attached to him, so you simply assumed he would’ve been attached to you as well.

“Why not? I know I’m not very fun but I can try. I can come to your knight tournaments or whatever it is you guys do–” Lucky grunted, interrupting you. You turned around to see your dragon glaring at you. “What?”

Doyoung laughed, “I think your dragon understood before you did.”

“What?”

Suddenly, Doyoung’s face dipped down. His nose bumped against yours, “I want to be more than friends, Y/n.”

“Oh,” your face flushed and your breath suddenly felt very shallow. “That’s sounds doable.”

Doyoung smiled. His eyes trailed down your face, stopping at your lips. “Can I..?”

You answered him by pushing yourself up, meeting him halfway. Your hands found their place: one on his shoulder and the other at the nape of his neck.

Doyoung’s grip tightened as his lips moved against yours, pulling your body as close to his as he could. He deepened the kiss and moved his hands to cup your face.

A flash went off at your side, shocking you and Doyoung out of the kiss. Lucky had blew a stream of fire behind Doyoung.

“Oh no,” Doyoung suddenly hid behind you. “He thinks I was hurting you. I’m going to die.”

You giggled. “I think he just didn’t want us to kiss while he ate his dinner,” you assured Doyoung, gesturing to Lucky, who had gone back to eating as soon as you two had stopped kissing.

“Thank goodness,” Doyoung breathed, moving from behind you.

“Scaredy cat~” you sang, moving away from Doyoung.

“Leave me alone,” he said, embarrassedly staring at the ground.

You smiled and ran back to him, hugging him around the waist. “Don’t worry, Doyoung. I’ll protect you.”

~the end~

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