#like it’s not the thing you want me to get into that’s the gift

[strwberri-milk]

Hiii I love your work 🥺♡ can I request reader comforting LADS boys over their insecurities? Since we're always the one being comforted, I think they deserve some love as well 😌♡✨️

its slightly adjusted, just a little for me to like. make it fit better for them lol

Zayne struggles with feeling good enough for you. He doesn't ever voice it but he hears the way other people talk about their partners and wonders if that's how you feel about him. He worries that he isn't around enough for you, that his genuine desire to help every patient that comes into his unit giving him incredibly long hours. Then, by the time he gets home he's exhausted and unable to give you the attention you deserve.

You watch him puzzle over his schedule, a deep furrow in his brows as he tries his best to figure out how to balance these two priorities in his life. It's normal for him to try and figure out the schedule best so you can spend time together but this is the first time you hear him muttering about not being good enough for you.

Before he can continue his quiet ramblings you throw your arms over his shoulders, hugging him tightly from behind. He's surprised you're there and even more surprised when you tell him that you heard him talking to himself. He sits quietly, taking in your words as you comfort him. You remind him that you love him, that everything he does makes you fall in love with him more and more. He likes being told directly these affections, making it easier for him to accept your love.

Xavier knows he's not the most emotive and he worries that you don't know how much he loves you. He shows it to you through gifts, buying you little things or through acts of service and cooking meals for you - well, trying to.

You've never doubted his love for you because you've learned all the quiet ways he does so. You adore him and know he does you. You've never told him so in so many words, thinking that he already knows you know. However, you can tell that something is off when his affectionate patterns seem to increase tenfold.

You get the sense that he's overcompensating for something, asking him if something's wrong. He doesn't want to say anything directly to you, a little embarrassed by his inability to cook you proper meals. When he tells you what's wrong you laugh a little, holding his hands and reassuring him that you know he loves you. You don't mind his quiet way of loving you, knowing that it's comforting to have something so gentle to come home to.

Rafayel is always worried about being forgotten, something you know well because of how much he talks about it. He thinks he's being subtle but that's because to him, he doesn't tell you often enough how desperate he is for him to remain in your memory indefinitely. The thought of you forgetting him, even just for a moment makes him want to curl up in a ball and die.

The only way for you to reassure him would be by holding him tightly, gently running your fingers through his hair. You let him rest his face in your neck, mutter whatever it is he wants to about you forgetting him and abandoning him. You let him get whatever it is he needs to get off his chest, then comfort him through your words.

You reassure him that you would never forget him willingly, that you think about him all the time. He occupies your every thought. You're obsessed with him, and you show him so by showing him all the photos you have of him, of his art, tell him that you constantly re-read the texts he sends you because you like to remember that he loves you just as much. He needs this closeness often, and that's the only way he can cope with his feelings of abandonment.

Sylus thinks you don't know that he does indeed love you. The two of you tease each other and he likes to mess with you sometimes. He's not good with his words, not really able to verbalise "I love you" without tripping over the simple syllables. It's something he's trying to work on but can't quite comprehend, finding himself growing frustrated from his repeated failures.

You overhear the twins teasing him about not being able to say "I love you", Sylus simply ignoring them both because he's got far too much work to do to really worry about it. He doesn't know that you're listening in, quietly shooing them off so you can speak to him personally.

You tease him just a little bit at first, amused that somehow, he's been so obvious about worrying about this shortcoming that the twins caught on. He doesn't really blush, but you can sense that he is a little flustered with the extra line between his furrowed brows and the way he pretends he doesn't hear what you're saying to him. Soon enough though you climb into his lap, holding him tightly as you reassure him that you know he loves you and you've never doubted it for a second.

[urno1luv]

squid game (s1) aespa x reader🫣?? ningning is the only sane member + gets a happy ending tho😭

(as for the asks, don't worry!! i saw them all and i'm working on posting them!!)

tags: saebyeok's murder mentioned (😔), yandere behaviour, drugging, noncon, sadism, suicide mentioned once (reader), audiz are written together

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

KARINA and GISELLE, the VIPs

- flew over with giselle from japan just to watch this event, her perversion evident on her sharp features. she's definitely gonna have the time of her life

- her bets were placed on player 101, seeing how he was one of the most brutal players in the games, but giselle advised her to chose number 067 instead, citing her agility and her supposedly "callous" behaviour as a force to be reckoned with. aeri, after all, is one to listen to🙂‍↕️

- however, when both players have died and the only ones left are 456, 218, and you, 457, karina becomes pretty annoyed with giselle's guesses. "yah, uchinaga. we lost a million already, so choose a better player, don't make me lose more."

- luckily for rina, giselle already had her eyes on the cutest thing ever!!! your beautiful doe eyes glistening and filled with fear from player 218's sudden killing of your friend saebyeok. "hmm.... how about you bet on 456 and I bet on 457?" aeri suggests, smirking. "i feel like they might team up against 218, and the other VIPs are betting on him to win. let's divide our chances?" through a lot of coaxing, jimin agrees, her eyes following your every move.

- giselle and karina are pleasantly shocked once you suddenly use that brain of yours and successfully kill player 456 while he's occupied with the other player. with tears in your eyes, your knife enters his throat, giving him a quick death. though you cared about him very much, you couldn't afford to go against him in the next game when you were the finalists. rina tuts once you kill her pick, but it doesn't matter, bc the other VIPs now owe the girls their money since you won!!

- the guards escort you out of the arena, your legs weak with fatigue and guilt. aeri, however, has other plans for you ♡ "unnie, why don't we have some fun before we leave? think of it as a final parting gift!" jimin scoffs, but after thinking about it, why not?

- after being knocked out by gas during the ride in the lift, you wake up rather painfully, two slender but long fingers rammed into your cunt, pounding deep. you can't move your head to see who it is, but you feel woman's chest pressed against your back, her hot tongue on your neck, lips acting like a suction. your fingers twitch weakly, whimpering softly. your brain is too fried to realise that there's another woman sat beside you, smoking a cigarette, her deep voice ringing in your ears. "aeri, you made a good decision. she'll be pretty fun to play with," and she ended with small chuckle, hand snaking around your thigh. seems like you won't rest well tonight...

WINTER, the frontman

- she's by far the most evil, depraved, person out of all. her love for violence stems from an incident that happened when she was younger, in which her father got murdered before her eyes, and that changed her. it seemed as if her prayers were answered, bc he was not a good person to her at all. from then on, she grew up to believe violence was the answer, and violence was needed in order to get what she wanted

- she first saw you while watching players get their id photos taken, and your anxious and hesitant manner got her attention. what is this feeling she's experiencing right now...?

- her eyes gravitate towards you, even in a crowded room. minjeong feels a strange sense of protectiveness over you as you find a bed to sleep on, away from the others. her eyes gloss over with want as she obsessively watches you sleeping, chest rising up and down in your deep slumber. you must've cursed her because she stood in the security room all night, rooted to her spot. she's come to a conclusion, she has to have you.

- during the game where you had to take the marbles away from another player, using no force, you find yourself feeling sorry for the old man you were playing against. i mean, you only joined these games as a final resort, so if you die, it's what you would have wanted anyway. winter, on the other hand, was NOT going to let that happen.

- she orders the guard to not kill you, but after the game finished, bring you to her instead. her heart is pounding quickly, and her breathing has quickened. she would finally get what she wanted. a taste of you, your touch, your beautiful voice and your compassion for others, minjeong was ecstatic that she would have it ALL to herself..

NINGNING, □

- the detective who snuck in when she found out that her sister went missing. she killed a guard and took his clothing so she can investigate the place

- her plans quickly go to waste when she sees you while watching the cameras, your purity shining bright amongst the other players. she finds out that you came here to find the money to pay for your brother's university and for the massive debt you had, and ning makes it her mission to protect you <3

- quickly becomes hooked onto you, cooing as she sees you cowering from the guards whose guns point to your heads as you try to carve the designated shapes in the honeycomb cookies. she totally forgot her original mission, now she's here just for you

- once the night comes, she watches, in pain, as you scream and run from the mob who tries to kill as many players as they could, her fist shaking, fingernails drawing blood from her palm. she wishes she could help, but has to wait for orders from the head

- she decides that it's time for her to leave, but not without you. when the right time comes, she slips you a note, saying that she could help you escape, with the money, if you wanted. the two of you make a quick plan during your trips to the toilet, and you can't help but feel an immense gratitude for ningning. whatever would you do without her?

- once ning murders all the VIPs in cold blood, disgusting etched into her soft features, she quickly secures a suitcase containing millions of won. though it might not be the billions that were promised, it's better than nothing. she throws in some expensive items that the VIPs owned, and knocks twice on the room where the players stayed. successful in your joint mission, you both go through a secret pathway, and hop onto a boat that harboured nearby.

- fast forward to 2 years from now, ningning has won your love as well. after escaping to jeju island, she was surprised to see that you seemed to reciprocate her feelings, your plump lips landing on hers. not only has she secured a generation of money, but she also earned your affections <33

in case anyone wants the pictures, here they are!!!

ning is so baby here.. she cannot look intimidating for the life of her

[coldhndss]

A sight for sore eyes

Yukimiya Kenyu

@sailorstar9

“You don’t have to come by you know..” Your hesitant voice sounded through the phone to the other end of the speaker.

“Sounds like you really don’t want me to meet your family.” He hummed in thought, the clicking of his car’s indicator lingering in the background.

With a deep sigh and a smile to yourself, you wrapped your arms around a large pillow on your bed, placing the phone beside your ear on speaker. “It’s not like that, Yuki. I can’t exactly explain it, but you’d be able to tell straight away if you see it.”

 “…Guess I’ll take your word for it then.” A soft chuckle strung alongside his words. “I’m still going to come over though. I’ll just have to deal with it, right?”

He sounded so confident that it’d be fine, though you worried how things would unfold knowing your younger sister was back from college and would be for a while. She’d always been spoiled by your parents who fold under any pressure from her.

“I… I can’t take this anymore…!” She’d ‘sulk’ to herself, before rushing to her room, locking the door behind her. She’d sit there for upwards of 10 minutes max, and soon after, she’d give up and return with another attempt at garnering sympathy.

For the second round, she’d exaggerate her sobs, heaving and heavily coughing. After a few moments of feature film acting, she’d drop the bomb.

With a hand loosely holding her neck, she’d begin wheezing and shakily pointing to the counter where her asthma puffer sat. You’d seen this hundreds of times. Of course, she had her moments where she’d genuinely suffer an asthma attack. But it was painfully obvious to you when she was faking it.

Despite that, your parents would give in, rushing to her assistance and complying with her out of fear of her having another lethal attack similar to the one she had as a child.

You had a feeling she’d pull a stunt once she sees him, knowing he was out of her reach. Despite your worries, Yukimiya ensured you that he’d be there to meet your parents, not to meddle in things that didn’t concern him.

Ending the call, he told you he’d be there in around half an hour. You quietly let your parents know, and headed back to your room to prepare an outfit.

Sitting on the couch in the living room, you fiddled with the fabric of your dress, nervously waiting. Suddenly, your sister walked in, inspecting the living room with her arms crossed.

“Why is the house so… tidy all of a sudden?” Her scrutinizing gaze fell to you. “And why are you dressed up like that? Having a photoshoot?” She sneered.

“A friend is coming over.” You replied, wondering what made her come out of her room where she’d usually be sleeping until midday.

Your mother was preparing a fruit platter in the kitchen, when her voice called out to your sister. You exhaled a sigh as relief as she left the living room; one step closer to her returning to her room.

Almost immediately as she was out of sight, a knock came from the door. You stood up, flattening your dress and taking one last glance in the mirror before opening the door.

“Ah, there you are.” You were greeted by Yukimiya who was carrying a cake box and a large bouquet of elegant, neutral coloured flowers whose hue matched his clothes. He wore an overcoat that ran down to his shins, complimenting the fall colours present within his turtleneck and pants.

Before you could say anything, the overly familiar sound of your sister gushing met your ears. Whipping your head around, you shot her a glare as though to say ‘don’t you dare.’ It might keep her at bay for now.

He hadn’t even stepped foot inside your house yet, and you were already worried.“May I come in?” He smiled, offering the gifts to you. Taking them from him you led him inside to the house.

“You didn’t need to do all this...” Forgetting the annoyance you felt towards your sister moments before, your lips curved upwards.

“I happened to be at the pastry store and they had your favourite. How could I leave without getting it for you?” He chuckled as the two of you made your way to the living room where your parents and unsurprisingly, sister were waiting.

The three of them stood up, politely greeting Yukimiya. Your father shook hands with him and your mother took the gifts from you, placing the pastry box and bouquet on the coffee table in between the couches.

Though your sister wasn’t even trying to hide her intentions. While four of you sat, chatting together, she suddenly shifted from where she was sitting next to your parents – to the couch you sat on with Yukimiya.  

“A Model?” Your mother questioned “Well, you certainly are very tall and handsome.” She looked towards your father who smiled.

Yukimiya let out a coy laugh “It’s not much, really”.

Though suddenly, your sister’s unwanted voice swamped the conversation that the four of you were having.

“You are handsome!” With a giggle, she inched closer and placed a hand on Yukimiya’s shoulder. “I look pretty good, but what if you and I were together? Two people who are…” Her gaze narrowed as it shifted to you “…easier on the eyes.”

Yukimiya uncomfortably stood, shrugging her hand off his shoulder as he did so. He politely smiled at your parents, excusing himself before asking you where the bathroom was. As you lead him to the corridor outside the living room, your eyes reflected apology - what you had worried about seemed to be happening right in front of you.

Once you returned, you noticed that your sister looked elated, and she took your hand by force, leading you to back the corridor to ‘chat’.

“Where did you meet him?!” She whispered in a scolding tone.

“None of your business.” Your words were blunt, telling her more than enough.

“Is that so?” She sneered. “Well, he won’t be with you any longer now that I’m around.”

That was the last straw. For as long as you could remember, she’s ripped toys, books and many belongings out from your hands whenever she pleased, and once she was done with them, she’d get rid of them. But this time it was something completely different.

Threatening to ‘take’ a person away was low. Especially Yukimiya, who was one of the only people you had met who actually paid genuine attention to your needs, considering your thoughts and feelings instead of treating you like a burden. Ever since you and him became closer to each other, the void in your heart has begun to heal - allowing you to feel what it’s like to be acknowledged and understood. So her threat did not come lightly to you at all.

“You wouldn’t dare do anything.” A scoff escaped your lips as you crossed your arms.

She sighed, mocking you with false pity“Come on, we know how this goes, don’t we?” She whispered, cocking her head to the entry of the corridor where your parents, who were none the wiser to her intentions sat.

“It won’t work on him. You’ll only embarrass yourself.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Though, it seemed that she forgot to consider a circumstance where she might’ve been heard.

The doorknob to the bathroom at the end of the hallway clicked and turned with Yukimiya stepping out wearing a surprised expression.

“Is everything okay?” He smiled, looking in your direction.

Sashaying a few steps in his direction, she locked her arm around his. “Yukimiya… My big sister, she’s...” Cracking her voice into a sob, she began to gradually elevate the sound. Just a few more words and your parents would come rushing.

“She’s.. so mean to me..!” As she rubbed her moistening eyes, he looked at her, confused. He then shot you a look that read ‘So this is what you meant.’ You couldn’t help but snicker a little. Though your little laugh seemed to get to your sister, as she decided that to be the reason for her to start shrieking.

“You have the nerve to let out such an ugly laugh while I’m crying!?” She whipped her head towards you. “You think you’re so pretty just because this guy gave you a second of attention?”

Dumbfounded, you opened your mouth to defend yourself but no words came out. You knew she wasn’t too fond of you but this was a whole new level of disdain. Suddenly, Yukimiya annoyedly yanked his arm away from her, and took a few steps towards you, standing bu your side

“I don’t exactly have a place to speak in this…” He looked at her, then back to you “family.. discussion. But the way you’re acting is completely uncalled for.” He’d been able to speak clearly for as long as you’ve known him, but to be able to shut your sister up hadn’t been within your expectations.

As he spoke, your parents appeared behind you, confused by the situation. Your mothers first instinct was usually to coddle your sister and ask her what was wrong. Though before she could do so, she dug the hole even further.

“But… but I’m so much prettier than she is! You don’t seriously like her?” She scoffed, folding her arms.

“Like?” His eyebrows were slightly raised in confusion. “I don’t think I’d come to visit the family of a girl I only liked, no?” He wore a smile, but you’d seen that expression multiple times before; and you knew he wasn’t about to lose his cool over a girl like her.

As a last resort, she tried to farm remorse from him; thinking that he’d fall for her exaggerations. She caught a glimpse of your parents standing behind you and him in shock, and panic began to wash over her as she realised that they’d seen the way she had been acting. Her eyes were dry despite all the fake sobbing she had done, and despite this, she began to heave, coughing and placing a hand on her chest. Although your mother did immediately rush to her side, this time it was to tell her off. Your father apologised to Yukimiya, and offered the two of you to sit back down wherever, and that they’d be there soon.

Leaving the corridor, you could still hear your mother and father scolding her, calling her behaviour ‘unacceptable’ as they saw through the act she had been putting up for years. As you sat back down on the couch, an audible exhale escaped your lips. “This is what I was talking about.”

Removing his glasses, he wiped them with a cloth from his pocket as he spoke, “Nothing I haven’t been through before.” He looked at you with warmth in his smile, as he turned his body to face yours. “Besides, I wanted to talk to you for a little – just the two of us.”

Your eyes followed his hand as it reached inside his coat pocket, pulling out a small box. He gently opened it, revealing a glistening gold ring with a sizeable diamond perched at the top. Your gaze lifted, following his hand that took yours as he slipped the ring onto your finger. Warmth crept up on your face as your eyes began to moisten, and once again, you were at a loss for words, although this time was unlike before.

Eventually, you choked out a few words. “Yuki, you…”

Holding your hand with his two, his thumbs held your fingers, rubbing the back of your hand. “I did say I didn’t only like you.” He chuckled, his cheeks painted a gentle hue of red. “Unless, well, you don’t actually like me.”

The growing lump in your throat protested against your words you fought to speak once more. “Of course I like you…” You smiled as a memory played back in your head. “Didn’t I tell you that in high school?”

He nodded in response, being taken back to the same memory. “And what did I tell you then?”

The memory lapsed in your head, the words the same as they were when you first heard them. The redness on both of your faces, how you were too shy to meet each other’s eyes, and the way his voice shook ever so slightly when he spoke.

“That you’d always be with me.”

[thegroundhogdidit]

don't apologize for the essay! i once talked to someone for four hours straight because i found out she liked lucifer lmao. i'm just gonna respond to a few things because you make some great points.

what really, truly pisses me off about this show is that no one ever believes him, and everyone who does is made out to be a horrible person by the text of the show. charlotte believed and corroborated everything he said, and thus was an evil villain who tried to blow up a carnival. cain understood what he went through with god because he was ALSO pitted against his own siblings to compete for god's attention, so they had to completely reverse any good character development he had right at the end.

i'd also like to point out that lucifer didn't just have suicidal ideation. after uriel died, he textually tried to commit suicide via standing in front of a sniper near chloe. and even that wasn't actually taken seriously.

and chloe? in terms of who believed him the least, she was definitely number one. i'll never forget how in season 5, michael told her that she was a gift from god, and she immediately started antagonizing lucifer for not telling her that god had been controlling her life as if he hasn't spent FIVE SEASONS telling her that god controlled HIS life. and he couldn't even fight back, because then, as you said, he would be proving them right.

why doesn't he get to defend himself? why does EVERYONE get to stomp all over him and he just has to take it? why does linda ENCOURAGE this??

there's something about taking a victim of child abuse (in terms of being the child of the abuser not being a child at the time) who believes himself to be evil incarnate but desperately doesn't want to be, who is paranoid, and hates himself, and self harms, and is never fucking believed by anyone who could help him heal. taking that man and showing him over and over that if he tries to change, that's not his doing, he's too evil to contribute anything positive toward himself. and if he gets tired of that, if he snaps? then he never really changed at all

the most annoying part of lucifer on netflix is that he was literally right the whole time. i don't give a shit if the literal actual god was "just trying his best." lucifer was 100% right to be angry at god and in fact, i think everyone should've been downright pissed when they met him. ESPECIALLY linda. fuck her for real for telling him that his conflict with god was partially his fault. lucifer described an abusive father to her countless times and the second she met him she started fawning over him? fuck that. chloe should've punched god in the face

[rakiah]

i just want to to let you know that it was your art of vil with kid jack and leona with kid epel for that single parent leovil fic that really pulled me into leovil. i stumbled upon it by chance when scrolling through a vil blog and saw it reblogged and LOST MY DAMN MIND. particularly baby wolf jack. cause why am i now putting together an epic the musical/odyssey/illiad au for leovil?? (your art. your art is why) itll probably never escape my docs but. so far??

helen and penelope. cousins and princesses of sparta--their dads are brothers and co-ruled. penelope's mother was a water nymph (naiad, so freshwater) whereas helen was the daughter of zeus......soooo.....HEAR ME OUT!!!!!!

neige as helen. vil as penelope. now, i was originally gonna go the rkvl route, because that line in the challenge, when penelope tells the suitors she will marry whoever "can string her husbands old bow and shoot through 12 axes cleanly"--smth her husband odysseus was only able to do, well, a rkvl version of that could go SO HARD.

esp cause like, idk i could just give rook a random kingdom, cause yes, leona is a prince, but technically falena would be king. and i thought of making them menelaus (leona) and agamemnon (falena) with VIL as helen, i mean, come ON!!!!!! it would be SO GOOD!! but odysseus and penelope's story was just tugging at my heart, and i couldnt decide. until i realized that actually this is a fic and it doesnt have to be a 1 to 1 substitution, i can play around and do whatever i want.

(and jack as little wolf telemachus is everything. and neige as helen, both "fairest of them alls" and cursed via apple??? i love it)

sooooo. im thinking.

vil and neige are cousins, princes of. pyroxene? or maybe pyroxene would be made up of a few kingdoms....hmmmmm...idk yet. regardless, their parents' co-rule their kingdom. but neige is the actual heir of the throne. this could be because vil is technically illegitimate. eric had no wife, he just really wanted to be a dad. and so vil's mother, for purposes of this, is either a vampire or a water nymph, or some sort of enchantress, idk, but regardless, vil isnt going to inherit. (also read @pinkbeeps sympathy for the villain fic and lost my mind over it so, yeah, crewel is a vil dad, so at some point when vil and neige are 7 and 6 respectively, crewel and eric get together.)

meanwhile, sunset savannah was split by a civil war? or a revolt of some kind. leona and falena stop it, but part of the truce that is made is that falena cannot rule all of it. so the elephant graveyard half, and some surrounding land makes up what becomes leona's kingdom. why? idk.

then, when neige is like, 17, vil 18, and leona 20, its decided that neige should get married, so all the suitors from various kingdoms come. cause, heir to the throne. and fairest of them all. falena, who is now married himself and has cheka, suggests leona go, but leona isnt rlly looking to get married. falena bugs him abt it tho, and leona still isnt for the marriage thing but rationales that princes and infleuntial people from all over will be vying for neige's hand. leona can go, but not for purposes of throwing his hat in the ring, (neige is an heir and leona has a kingdom to take care of--neither of them would leave their respective homes) but rather, to make connections to better help his people.

and then he meets vil. guy is SMITTENNNNNNN from the get go, he's like, whoever was giving out the fairest of them all titles, did they like, not see you???? heLLO??????

vil is warming up to leona, but also, lets be real, vil has an insecurity abt being a backup, second option when it comes to neige. he would have been wary considering leona is here in technicality as a suitor for neige. but it becomes apparent leona was not here for that in acuality. cause leona, in true oddysseus fashion, does not even bring a wedding gift, guy was just here to network and then fell in love.

it goes as the story always does. neige's parents are worried abt the influx of suitors and wondering how to choose without angering one kingdom over the other. and leona is like, hey i got a solution, but if you want it, you gotta put in a good word for me with vil's parents, your brother and BIL, and you gotta convince them that its okay if vil marries. and theyre like DEAL.

leona proposes his solution--the oath made by all suitors to defend neige and whoever he chooses if a rival ever takes neige away. they would march against the offender and destroy their city.

neige's parents are like damn thats brilliant and then talk to eric and crewel. who put forth a test for leona to pass. he does.

they marry, leona's wedding gift to vil, the living olive tree bed he makes himself, and they have jack and epel, idk how, surrogates? adoption? not sure. but then, the apple, neige is taken away, and that oath comes back to bite leona in the ass. he pretends he's crazy to dodge the draft but baby jack gets tossed in front of the plough and leona saves them, and is forced to go to war etc etc. they win, and then it takes him FOREVERRRR to get home, and then--well we know how it goes!

wow. sorry for just. dumping this in your ask box. i was just trying to appreciate your art and i ended up dropping the au inspired by your art in here. oops

Alright, let’s process step by step cause this ask just made me go wild when I read it. /p

[deep breath]

First, thank you very much! 💕 It’s always a delight to know that more people are into leovil because of me 8D I feel like a priest in Age of Empires (big old ref here ha ha)

Second, your Epic/ Odysseus/ Illiad AU.

I was flabbergasted cause, a few days ago I saw a new leovil fic about Epic the Musical (yes, I do have an open tab of Ao3 on my phone with the leovil tag that I refresh almost every night. When I say I have an otp, I have an otp.) and, since the name rings vaguely a bell, I asked my theater kid friend about this Musical. I just wanted to listen to it before reading the fic and then, I understood Epic the Musical.

AND

YOU CAME.

:’D

I take that as a sign.

Thank you for sharing those thoughts, that was great! I wish you the best for your AU and hope you write it and maybe post it! Otherwise, it’s fine! No pressure of course, I’m already glad with your ask! x3

Anyway, here for you. I couldn’t help sketching those. They imposed themself. Literally.

Pretty sure Vil’d start to poison the suitors too.

[bunny-jpeg]

men and their power

toto wolff

tags: smut/pwp, assistant!reader, age gap (20s/50s), power dynamics, lingerie & gifts, big cock!toto, doggy style, (threats of) baby trapping, dark-ish themes, oral sex (reader receives)

a/n: happy birthday, toto wolff!!

being the assistant of toto wolff was a tiring job, but it wasn't a thankless one. despite toto's stubborn nature and his capacity for anger, it was a job you quite enjoyed!

you got to see the world, work within a sport you loved and feel fulfilled with your line of work! what more could you want? except you were certain of one thing.

your job description didn't include "sleeping with your boss".

"mister wolff." you swallowed as you picked up the bra out from the box. it was light grey in colour, almost a blue-grey. it was made to fit you. after all, toto had all the information on you he could get. he knew you painfully well, every little detail was accounted for. from the moles on your back to of course, the size of your breasts. toto was detailed oriented that way.

you felt your boss' hands on your shoulders and his voice was low in your ear, "put it on for me, my prize."

you replied, "doesn't seem like the uniform." and you picked up the panties as well and felt a tightness in your throat. these looked expensive and knowing toto they were expensive.

toto's hands lingered down to you hips and he held onto you tightly, "hmm,i'd say it would be. my assistant should only be dressed in the best, don't you think?"

"sir." you moaned as you felt his lips on your neck. you knew this was wrong. but you couldn't deny toto anything. for the sake of your job that meant wearing toto's gift.

toto held onto you tightly and pressed his clothed erection up against your lower back. it didn't help that your boss had a huge cock, rumor said he left every virgin in vienna with a sore cervix. and even though it was a dumb rumor. it still left your stomach in knots. he had left you bruised before. over eight inches and he knew how to use it. age and experience taught the team principal well.

he liked when he could press his hand into your middle and say that he could feel himself inside of you. he liked when you struggled when he pressed on you. he made a displeased noise then said, "that is no way to thank me, treasure." he held onto you a little tighter, "do i need to teach you how to be a little more grateful?" his tone was nearing a dangerous territory in your ear.

he could be dangerous, he loved pretty things to sink his teeth into. especially assistants who always got his morning coffee exactly how he liked it. little things in skirts with high ambitions. he liked to bruise them, ruin them, make them gasp and moan for more. it was cute, all that power and yet toto still had a craving for delicate little things. things he could break and mend back together.

you said, "i love it, sir." you loved your job. but sometimes you forget how scary it could be. he was much older than you with heaps more power. you were in no position to make demands, you had to say yes to him. preferably with a please at the end.

toto smiled, "put it on. we are not on the track anymore, you can take off the uniform." and while you would've gone to the bathroom to change. toto made you strip down in the bedroom then re-dress in the lingerie.

you stood there in the bra and panties, you felt toto's hungry gaze on you. his dark eyes filled with a lust for you. you wanted to cover yourself up, but if you did that. well, it would just spur toto on to tie you up. and you didn't want your wrists rubbed raw because of his leather belt.

toto had a bit of a mean streak in him. he loved watching you squirm under him. and as his dutiful employee, you got the most attention from him. any sexual fixation he had was taken out on your poor throat or pussy.

"does it look alright, sir?" you swallowed, you looked down for a brief moment until he said your name and you looked back up to him. you shifted on your heels a little.

toto stepped forward and reached for your hips. he held onto you and replied, "i'm debating if i should be tearing this off of you or not. you look divine." then leaned down to kiss you on the cheek. he let out a soft groan and you felt a wobble in your knees.

"don't tear it, sir. it's expensive." you pouted and held your gaze at him, "it would be a waste."

toto chuckled and said, "oh, little one. my treasure. my little assistant. just like i own you, i own that garment. so i can tear it as much as i please." then he grabbed the top hem of the panties and tore them down the seam at the side, "i'll simply buy you another pair."

sometimes you forgot that one didn't become a f1 team principal by being nice. toto made more money in a month than you'd see you a lifetime. of course he could simply buy you another pair, even if it was made of fine materials. the cost was nothing.

your eyes went wide in shock. your stuttered, "sir!" and your boss simply laughed and got down on his knees in front of you.

"i own you." he said, "isn't that right?" he leaned in to kiss your exposed cunt. then forced your legs apart to lap at the wetness between your legs. he heard you whine loudly and your voice got caught in your throat.

"sir! mister wolff!" with shaky hands you reached for his dark hair. you knew he dyed it, but there was no time to think about that. not while he was pleasuring you with his tongue. you whimpered, "please."

you knew this was wrong. there was something deeply wrong with this. tot was your boss, but you were standing there with your knees about to give him. as your much larger and older boss orally pleasured you. his tongue worked your achy cunt and it left you without words. it was wrong, yet so right.

he ran his thumb against your clit and you almost melted. your boss knew all the right places to make you feel the climb of pleasure through your body. "so well behaved." he said before you ended up on the bed. barely had enough time to get the nice bra off before he was undressed and in the bed with you. the bra was spared from ripping, but tossed somewhere you couldn't see.

he handled you with ease. got you onto your stomach and your hips raised to meet his cock. while being an assistant was hard work, you spent most of it on your hands and knees. with your superior's cock inside of you.

he sank his thick cock inside of you and you felt yourself cry out from the stretch. he now fit perfectly inside of you and your mouth was agape as you squirmed under him. your face pressed into the pillows. tot used his size to keep you pinned against the lavish bed.

"ah, sir!" your back arched as you felt him pound against you. you grasps the covers under you. your tone got tighter as you said, "ah, please! please!"

toto felt his ears grow hot from the intensity of your sounds. your boss knew your body perfectly, he knew how to make you feel intense pleasure even better than you knew how. no one understood your body the way he did. toto knew how to touch you, rub up against you, fuck you. and each time he did, you felt an inferno in your gut. he fucked you with a fever and it left you hot all over. he liked to watch you drive you crazy with lust, mewling and crying out for him.

the bed rocked against the wall. he moved you how he wanted you. he used your body how he enjoyed it, the pleasure sparked in his blood. he said lowly as you remained pinned under him, "maybe you need to be busier? hmm?" he then suggested, "maybe a baby at your hip? you take care of me and my child?" his words made you gasp and squirm more.

"please, toto." you whined as you were fucked into the hotel bed. it was hard to form proper words where he was so deep inside of you.

"you don't have much of a choice do you? you are mine and if i want you to have a baby then you'll have my baby. i know you want it. to care of my child. be a mother to them." he continued to move. his pace was aggressive and it left you panting.

you knew you should've ran. you should've told the fia or some other governing body. but deep down, you loved it. you enjoyed being the center of toto's world. the act of him ruining you for any other man.

he continued to thrust and enjoyed the feeling of your tight cunt around him and the symphony of sweet noises. your pitiful moans, he could feel the strain in his body from his heavy movements. he had a single focus, to put a baby in you.

"my treasure." he purred.

"please, toto. oh, fuck." you dug your feet into the bed as you tried to not lose all sense of control. you sounded so needy, you sounded like an angel and you drove toto to near climax.

it didn't take much longer for you to finish. climax hit you and it made your mind go blank as toto continued to fuck you. he needed you. you gasped loudly as his pace quickened and he soon finished inside of you.

you relaxed against the covers and let the heat radiate through you. you made a soft noise. toto adored it. he adored you in return, he pulled his cock out of you before he pulled your hot body against him.

"see, good girl." he said, "i knew you'd behave for me. take me so well. that is why i hired you. and why you are going to be the mother of my children." he said with a bit more affection, but it still made your stomach twist.

you couldn't form words, but laid in his arms. his protective, almost possessive grasp on you. this was your boss, that had fucked the sense out of you. you wouldn't consider you job hard all the time, but it could be physically demanding <3

[heliosunny]

YANDERE!SAE x READER

And so... he's changed Sae was a genius. You’d known it all along. Your (once) friend was a prodigy in soccer. You’d marvel at how effortlessly he made his goals. But life, as it often does, pulled you away. Your parents' work demanded relocation, and you left without so much as a goodbye.

You often thought back to those days, replaying the memories in your mind. He was distant, never chatty, but you still tried. Compliments, small gifts like sweets, you always hoped to get through to him. Most times, he'd just hand them off to his younger brother, Rin. You convinced yourself he wouldn’t miss you. You were just a face in the audience, after all.

Yet Sae noticed.

At first, he thought you might’ve been sick or busy. You never missed a game before. He told himself you’d show up at the next match. But when his mother mentioned over dinner that your family had moved, his world stilled.

When? Why? And why hadn’t you told him?

He told himself it didn’t matter. There was no time to dwell on things outside soccer. Yet the gnawing ache in his chest refused to leave. He hated himself for how easily your memory began to fade. He didn’t want to forget. He promised himself that one day, he’d find you again.

-----------

Years later, standing in a packed stadium, Sae’s sharp teal eyes scanned the crowd. Then he saw you. Older, more composed, but undeniably you.

“There you are, Y/n L/n.”

The sound of his voice made your blood run cold. Your best friend, Hana, practically screamed beside you, overwhelmed by the sight of the famous Sae Itoshi addressing you.

He didn’t waste time. The crowd dispersed, and he cornered you. His expression was unreadable, but the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine.

“Explain yourself.” he demanded.

“What?” you replied, confused. “What are you talking about? I’m just here because my friend dragged me along.”

His jaw clenched. “You left without saying a word. I needed you, and you weren’t there.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “Sae, I was a kid. My family had to move for work. What was I supposed to do? And you-” You pointed at him. “You barely acknowledged me back then! What did it matter if I was there or not?”

“It mattered!” he hissed, stepping closer. “You mattered. You still matter.”

You shook your head, overwhelmed. “Look, I don’t know what you want from me, but I have my own life now. Just… let it go.”

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Sae frozen in place. How could you be so indifferent? Didn’t you see how much he’d changed, how much he’d suffered... all because of you?

---------- Later that night, Hana regretted letting you drink so much. You slumped over the table, utterly unconscious. “I shouldn’t have let you drink, idiot!” she muttered, trying to shake you awake.

“Need some help?” a familiar voice asked.

Hana turned to see Sae standing there, his teal eyes locking onto you like a predator sizing up its prey.

“Oh! Sae Itoshi, right?” Hana stammered, momentarily starstruck. “Um, my friend’s had a bit too much to drink…”

“I’ll take her,” Sae said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Oh, but-”

“I’ve known her for years,” he interrupted. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

Before Hana could protest, Sae had you slung over his shoulder. His grip was possessive, and his gaze was cold as he turned away. ---------- When you woke up, your head pounded like a drum. You blinked, taking in your unfamiliar surroundings. It wasn’t your apartment. The room was too pristine, too impersonal.

Panic set in as you sat up, only to find Sae sitting in a chair by the door, watching you.

“Sae?” you croaked. “Where am I? What’s going on?”

“You’re safe,” he said simply. “With me.”

Your heart raced. “What? Sae, I need to go home-”

“This is your home now.” His calm tone was more chilling than any shout. “You won’t leave me again.”

You stared at him, horrified. “Sae, this isn’t funny. Take me home.”

He stood and walked over, his shadow looming over you. “I don’t think you understand, Y/n. You’re the reason I kept going. Every match, every goal—I did it all for you. And now, I won’t let anyone take you away from me. Not your parents, not your friends, no one.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you realized the depth of his obsession. “Sae… you’re scaring me.”

His expression softened, but his eyes remained unnervingly intense. “You don’t need to be scared. I’ll take care of everything. You’ll never have to leave again.”

As he reached out to touch your face, you flinched, but there was nowhere to run. The door was locked, and the man you once called a friend had become someone you barely recognized.

And so, Sae Itoshi had changed- but not in the way you’d hoped.

[hugsandchaos]

Hang on, let me just—

“Sam! Tucker!” Danny called out. His two friends looked up from their homework assignments to see their half ghost friend rushing towards them from the sky. He shifted back to human as his feet hit the ground a few feet away from them and rushed to where they were sitting.“Look what I found!” He said excitedly. He used his free hand to take both of theirs out and placed the objects he was holding on their palms.

Sam received what appeared to be a piece of quartz. Tucker got a quarter. There was also a random paper clip, a broken piece of wiring, a hairpin, and a small fake mushroom carved out of a green crystal. Danny looked at them expectantly.

Tucker smiled.”What is it with you and bringing us random things recently?” He asked. He took the wire and placed both it and the quarter into his pocket. He wasn’t going to ask where Danny found these little nick-nacks, he knew that he most likely just found them around.

Danny shrugged.”I don’t know, I just wanted to bring it to you two.” He said.

Sam took the crystal mushroom.”I’m not complaining. Your little “penguin pebbling” always leads you to cool stuff like this.” She said. She set the mushroom and the quartz in her lap.”Now sit down, we have homework to do.” She said.

“Penguin pebbling??” Danny questioned. He sat down next to Tucker.

“Or maybe you’re acting more like a crow. Almost all of the things you get us are shiny or easy to notice.” Sam said.

Danny furrowed his eyes brows.“I’m not a crow.” He said. He wasn’t acting like an animal. Yeah, he’s been slightly different since he became a halfa, but that’s probably ghost stuff, right?

Tucker laughed.”Then stop scaring people as Phantom by mimicking them.” He said.

“But it’s fun!” Danny whined.

Halfas bringing little gifts to their loved ones, and most often bring shiny objects like crows or penguins

"Halfas are like cats" I get it but i raise you "Halfa are like birds"

Loud, annoying, nuisances that are smart enough to know what they are doing.

They can mimic voices and scream to get attention.

They require constant supervision or they will disappear and cause trouble.

They could be cute and fluffy but they could also attack you with the fury of a goose for looking at them wrong.

They gather like crows in a murder. They speak and repeat like humans but are far more knowledgeable and foreign then believed.

They have their own nesting (haunting) grounds that humans are forbidden from entering.

Add more if you agree

[jinxvex]

Oh my gosh your writing is great! Can we please get a headcanons of caitlyn x crybaby girlfriend? Like where her girlfriend is more sensitive and emotional than she is? Sfw and nsfw please, and perhaps a bit of size difference sprinkled (Cause that woman is TALL OH MY WORD) if it's possible? Take your time please! And thank you <3

♱ gf!caitlyn x emotional/sensitive gf!reader headcanons!! ♱

i'm sorry for the wait y'all!! LOL i've been a bit lazy (oop)

cw: sfw & nsfw, reader that cries and is emotional, cute and wholesome (sfw portion), pet names, dirty talk, she uses a strap (spoiler! it's royal blue!!!), praise, degradation, dumbification, humiliation, slight size kink, slight crying kink, you eat each other out, fingering, etc!!

SFW:

♱ caitlyn finds your sensitivity adorable and admirable. she’s almost jealous of how you’re so in tune with your emotions. your submissive, emotional personality goes hand in hand with her casual dominance and urges to protect the people she loves.

♱ caitlyn’s heart palpitates every time your eyes sparkle with emotions you can’t even explain at times— when your fingers clench the bottom of her shirt and you look up at her with raw vulnerability.

- “what’s the matter, darling? talk to me.”

♱ it doesn’t matter if you make a mistake, drop something valuable, or spill a drink, she’s always there to comfort you and tell you it’s alright, “c-cait ’m sorry i didn’t mean t-” + “don’t cry, love. you’ve made a mistake, that’s all.”

♱ cait’s a chronic forehead kisser (lol).

♱ she loves to treat you with the utmost care and consideration! if you’re more emotional and prone to stress-induced crying, she makes sure that there is nothing around you that could cause any unwanted feelings because she feels she isn’t doing her job as your girlfriend (or wife 😛) if you’re unhappy, “i hope everything’s to your liking, love? if you need anything, trust that i’ll give it to you.”

♱ caitlyn always seems to have her hand at the small of your back, rubbing it to show you she’s there if you need her. her protective touch instills a sense of calm in you, keeping you happy, appreciated, and seen.

♱ she slaps your ass playfully whenever you pout. OOPS

♱ she wraps her hands around you in a protective embrace whenever you do cry. she lets you sob into her chest as she hugs your smaller frame, whispering sweet nothings in your ear to comfort you, “shhh, it’s okay. it’s okay. ‘m here, baby, caitlyn’s here.”

♱ caitlyn dresses you in brand-new clothing the morning after you’ve had a bad day/night! (once again) patting your ass when she’s done pulling on your clothes and placing her hand on your hips to guide you to the full-length mirror across from the bed, “gorgeous.” + “look at you, sweetheart. you’re so beautiful.” + “do you like it? the clothes?”

♱ whenever she can’t be with you, busy protecting piltover from its enemies, she asks the maids to give you gifts and notes sent from her to remind you that she loves you—that you should look forward to her arriving home. the last thing she wants is for you to get emotional because you think she’s forgotten you!

♱ while i do agree that she prefers to keep her relationships private and she hates PDA. she wouldn’t hesitate to hold your hand or give you a reassuring hug or kiss whenever you need it!

♱ even when you are in a good mood, laughing and enjoying yourself. you could be in public, private, it doesn’t matter, she’s whispering to you how much she loves you, “your smile is just beautiful, my love.” + “i’m so lucky to have you. so radiant.”

♱ her love languages are words of affirmation, gift-giving, and acts of service!!

NSFW (🤭):

♱ we ALL know deep down she gives dom (specifically dom leaning switch) vibes!! she can get subby too!

♱ dare i say i agree that caitlyn has a MEAN size kink… there’s something about the way you look so much shorter, smaller than her when she’s pounding you into the mattress that makes her dripping wet, “wow, darling. you look so cute like this. so submissive.”

♱ since you can get in your head and get quite emotional, she does praise more than degrade (she still sprinkles it in here or there, especially if you’ve been bad). she likes dumbification and humiliation if that makes sense… WALK WITH ME HERE!!

♱ some of the things she’d say include: “you’re doing so good for me. so obedient. so willing.” + “my cute little whore. you get wet so easily, it’s adorable.” + “you can’t even think, can you? you don’t have to. just do as i say. thaaat’s it, good girl.”

♱ she enjoys making you cry out of embarrassment rather than sadness. imagine you’ve been giving her attitude and rudeness all day and she’s punishing you for it. she would force you to spread your legs and touch yourself while you apologize to her and tell her how much you love her in detail, “i hope you don’t think you’re cumming tonight, love.” + “you’re such a slut. giving me bullshit all day simply because you want to get stuffed full of my cock.” + “don’t you fucking cum. you don’t deserve it today.”

♱ because caitlyn has such a soft spot for you, she’d lowkey give in to your begging and let you cum anyway LMDAOSO.

♱ she spends hours praising you and telling you how good you feel and look during sex! the curve of your waist and hips, your ass and thighs cause her to believe you’re a gift from heaven!

♱ the strap is royal blue!! 6.8 inches… and when she gives you every inch, tears can’t help but prick your eyes and threaten to fall. it’s just too much!! i fear she enjoys it though, her smile toothy as she watches you cry and struggle to take her cock in a mating press, “it hurts, doesn’t it? you take it so well, it’ll feel better soon and you’ll be begging me to fuck you.”

♱ she eats you out after a meltdown!! wanting you to feel better—to feel the love she has for you! she kisses it before she eats it… AGGHHHHHFHHH. she’s always so gentle when she has her tongue on you, licking and kissing softly and spreading your cunt with her fingers, “oh, sweetheart. you’re dripping! can’t wait to eat you up.”

♱ now when you’re eating caitlyn out, she’s caressing your head/holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail. she pushes your head into her cunt, muffling the noises coming from your throat, “yes, yes! mhm right there. don’t stop, darling.”

♱ when you’re fingering her, you always seem to hold back slightly, afraid to hurt her. she urges you to, “go harder, love. you won’t hurt me. i need this, can’t you see?” + you’re the only one who can produce such high-pitched and needy moans from her!

♱ she loves seeing you in lingerie… there’s something that makes her feral seeing someone so sweet in such naughty attire. you have dozens of sets of lingerie and corsets (that she’s gifted you) so when you’re alone, she can see you in them 24/7.

♱ she’s a tribbing enthusiast! but she loves to save it for more emotional, passionate nights with you. it’s very dear to her.

thanks 4 the request!! writing this took long but it was fun! 💋

[kamospeach]

said you wanna hurt me now, you can't hurt me now .ᐟ

plot: trueform!sukuna wouldn't dare touch you, one of his most prized posession, his first ever concubine

content warning: plussize!reader, death (ofc), reader is obsessed, yandere thoughts, blood, size kink, virgin, oral f! + m!receiving, tummy fucking, 69?, monster fucking, cock warming

peachy's yap: wc! 2.6k im a sucker for soft sukuna. trueform sukuna is 9ft but i did 8ft for this. reader is a tad bit crazy too ngl. sukuna is not telling you he loves you unless he's about to die, sorry♡. this might need a pt.2🌚

"sit and stay quiet this time, please." sukuna pleaded with you, but the sparkle in your eye told him everything he needed to know. you didn't get called into the throne room often for the hearings, and today was your lucky day.

he killed two concubines last night for trying to escape. no one else was able to take his brutal killings like you meaning he had no choice but to have you accompany him. he would rather not have to kill another concubine for throwing up on his robe.

"ryooo." you whined as he gave you a pointed glare, not wanting the other concubine on the other side of the throne to hear the nickname you have for him. "kunaaa." you giggle as he huffs at your unseriousness.

"act like you've got some type of sense, brat," he says, pleading with you for the second time today. he sat on his throne, waiting for the first person to come in. the day had only just started and sukuna had just about enough of this.

being one of sukuna's concubines was fun when it wasn't your job. you had always loved sukuna even when your father gifted you to him 10 years ago. all the women had come and gone yet you still stayed by his side.

despite being there all those years sukuna still refused to have sex with you. at first, you thought it was your body but he was never afraid to be touchy. then you thought it was your face but he always told you how beautiful you were.

you thought it was his anger, that you reminded him too much of his father. since he’s the one who made the deal of you becoming his concubine. yet the words he whispers to you are sweet and his caresses are gentle.

you frowned thinking of it all over again, your mind ran in circles like this at least 4 times a day. he was the only thing that inhabited your mind, to be honest. even under these unbearable circumstances, you refused to leave sukuna. you loved him and that much was obvious.

“g…good morning my king! i was wondering in exchange for my daughter as your concubine will you bless me with enough money to replant my fields.” the older man squeaked, bringing out his daughter. she looked about  21 or 22 she was pretty, ‘i’d kill her’ you thought to yourself

“yes, i require new concubines anyway. get out,” he says as the man nods rapidly walking to Uraume who gives the man a wad of cash. the new concubine smiled wide looking around the throne room.

“may i sit at your feet my king,” she asked looking up at sukuna with her big doe eyes. you wonder how she’d sound screaming for her life. you zoned out not even hearing sukuna's response to the girl. you shake that thought from your head as sukuna taps your shoulder. you turned to look at him and he looked almost bored.

“sit on my lap so she can sit there,” he instructed you and you eagerly nodded. standing up you sat on sukuna’s lap, his robes doing nothing to hide the growing erection. acting oblivious you reached down to ‘see what that feeling was’. only to be met with a sharp glare from sukuna.

“what?” you smiled innocently feeling not one but two cocks? your eyes widened and sukuna’s glare and frown turned into a menacing smirk.

“look here woman if you turn around and be nice, i’ll reward you,” he whispered in your ear, placing a soft kiss on the bend of your neck. you figured like always the reward would be him inviting you to spend the night in his chambers. or a new robe or allowing you to match with him for once.

although you knew the reward wasn't exactly what you wanted you still obliged. facing forward and trying your best to not roll your eyes or laugh at the people sukuna killed. sukuna huffed and puffed louder as more and more people came in.

"kuna?" you whispered, turning around while uraume cleaned up the blood. you knew you had at least ten minutes before the next person came in.

"what?" he said, throwing his head back in exhaustion. it was going on for the third hour and he was beat. the other concubine you didn't care to remember her name didn't dare look his way while the newest one stared at him.

"can i help you?" you asked and he looked down at you with furrowed brows not sure what you meant. noticing his confused look you nodding down between the two of you. where sukuna's twin cocks were now pressed against his stomach. "i won't be obvious or loud i promise." you pleaded.

"aren't you a virgin?" he whispered back and you nodded looking away.

"y...you've never touched me." you look into his eyes and he was floored really. not once in the 10 years had you ever stuttered before sukuna. nor whispered out of fear or even flinched when he yelled at you.

"it's a lot to explain." he said shaking his head, noticing they were getting closer and closer to being done. "you sure you want to do this?"

"yes i want to please you," you say and he nods slowly as you open the lower part of his robe to pull out both of his cocks. it was like nothing you'd seen before, it wasn't like you'd seen many anyways. his top dick is smaller than the bottom but just as girthy.

"just take the bottom one," he tells you and you oblige pulling up your robe. you smirked glancing at the newest concubine who still stared at the both of you.

you had used your fingers plenty of times but this stretch was different. you slid down inch by inch slowly adjusting to sukuna. you bit back your moans being quiet just like you promised. sukuna's breathing was ragged and his hands gripped your hips.

once you were fully flushed on his cock you covered everything just in time for the next person to come in. you stayed steady as more and more people came in begging for things. sukuna noticed how your soppy cunt clenched around him in arousal when he killed someone. or how when he sometimes spoke your hips made the littlest of movement.

he was saving you for the right moment when he was ready to settle down. he knew once he had you that every other concubine would be sent off to his best friend Toji. he wasn't ready to focus on just you, mentally he was still young. he wanted to be mature when he finally decided to take your virginity.

but how could he turn down his most prized possession of what she wanted? he wouldn't dare tell you no or put tears in your eyes if it wasn't from pleasure. so he did what he had always wanted to do.

it was now going on the fifth hour and you had already came twice around sukuna. he had filled you up once just from your clenching and unclenching.

"that was the last of them my king." uraume informed sukuna who wasted no time pulling you off him. making sure you both were fixed to not draw attention to the slick sliding down your leg.

"you're all dismissed." he rushed out grabbing you like you weighed nothing like always. he threw you over his shoulder and it looked as if you were far off the ground. remembering sukuna was 8 feet tall and realizing he had never picked you up before.

you looked up at uraume who laughed at you being carried away. the other concubines frowning since he never did anything with you. you smiled to yourself not only did he want you, but you made him cum once already.

once you were at his chamber door your feet kicked in excitement. he opened the door and walked to the bed he placed you down on your feet and you frowned. he laughed at your face, his bed itself was almost as tall as you.

you looked up at sukuna, your head only going a little past his hip. you weren't super tall but you weren't short either yet his brooding height never intimidated you until today.

"this doesn't get funnier," you said frowning at sukuna who just continued to laugh at you. every time you spend the night here he places you down in front of the bed knowing you couldn't get on yourself.

"it does..." he smiled brightly and butterflies erupted in your stomach. whenever sukuna did smile, which was rare, it made your heart warm. you hadn't seen a smile that bright since his 17th birthday hours before his father was murdered.

he didn't say anything else and lifted you with one hand. he got on the bed and placed you in his lap. he looked at you before his hands trailed up your thigh. he removed the robe from your body staring at you.

"is something wrong?" you asked and he swallowed deeply. he leaned up kissing you feverishly, roughly squeezing your thighs. his sharp nails lightly piercing your skin the pain didn't even bother you.

all you could think about was sukuna's lips as your hands wrapped around his neck. although most people see his four arms as scary, you loved the way all four wrapped around you. two hands resting on your thighs and the other two gripping your waist. your fingers ran across his undercut massaging his neck.

you follow suit helping him take off his robe next. you both look at each other in silence, not much needing to be said. he lifted you and turned you around your legs barely being able to straddle his wide body. you were confused until you felt a wet lick on your dripping cunt.

"kuna..." you moaned out falling forward and resting your hand on your thigh. "y...you could've warned me," you whined as his tongue played at your entrance and lapped at your juices. your body trembled from the pleasure, this was new for you and it wasn't what you expected. did you know about his second and third mouth? of course you did, you knew everything about sukuna. but did you expect him to use them during sex? hell no.

"you taste so good... do y'like how that feels?" he asked helping you grind your hips on his abs. you let out a long whine while vigorously nodding your head not able to speak. "come on tell your kuna how good he makes you feel." he cooed and you threw your head back as his tongue pushed in your cunt.

"fuck... kuna you make me feel sooo good...hah so, so..." you trail off as one of sukuna’s hands grab yours placing it around his top cock.

"think you can make my other cock cum just as much as earlier?" he asked referring to his bottom cock cumming in your womb in the throne room. you nod wanting to please him and didn't want to disappoint.

"i've never done this before," you admitted and he nodded already knowing that.

"spit on it." he instructed as you let spit dribble out of your mouth onto his tip. "now stroke it a few times... juuuust like that yeahhh." he moaned out thrusting into your hand. "now put that big mouth on it." he joked and you scoffed still following instructions. weirdly enough you felt like you knew what to do. so you did what you thought was right and that was put his dick all the way down your throat.

sukuna moaned out two hands still on you guiding your hips over his tongue. you came up again not really sure what to do anymore. then your mind went back to what the other concubine, another one you couldn't remember, told you.

'sukuna likes when you move your head fast and play with his balls'

'hollow your cheeks'

'use your tongue here and there. absolutely NO teeth.'

you mustered up all the courage you had and did as instructed. hollowing your cheeks you quickly bobbed your head up and down on his cock. you hummed around him as his tongue still penetrated your insides. you felt it explore you and lick all around your walls while occasionally pushing on that spongy spot.

"hah... i thought you said this was your first time brat," he grumbled as you made sure your teeth didn't touch him. you pulled off abruptly swirling your tongue around his tip before taking him all the way down your throat again. you reached out for his balls massaging them as sukuna grunted bucking his hips into your mouth. "you didn't lie to me did you?"

he leaned forward grabbing you by your curls pulling your mouth from around him. he used your hair to turn your head to look at him. spit dripped down your chin onto your breasts and he couldn't help but look down as you shook your head.

"i'd never lie to you, one of the concubines told me what you liked," you admitted and he hummed in satisfaction letting your hair go. he leaned back and smacked your ass cheek signaling you to get back to work. and you did just that sucking him off while you played with his balls rolling them in your hand. you came up for air letting out a loud moan. "kuna i'm c...close." you stuttered still pumping his cock and he moaned.

"me too keep going," he said as you obeyed still vigorously bobbing your head. you couldn't take it anymore and had to come up for air. his tongue was continuously bullying that spongey spot making it too hard to even continue with your task of pleasuring him. the most you could do for him was continue to stroke him while your breath was rigid.

"i'm cumming." you squealed as your body shook in pleasure and sukuna hummed.

"a little faster n 'm right behind you," he tells you and you milk him faster like he asked. his cock twitched in your hand and you licked from his base to his tip just as his hot white cum shot on his thighs and mostly on your face.

"mmm." you hummed at his taste shivering as his tongue removed itself from your tight hole. his large arms grabbed you pulling you to sit next to him. he reached to his bedside table grabbed a handkerchief and wiped your face and his thigh. "can i sleep here for now?" you asked and he nodded as you laid on his chest.

"you could just move in here with me," he says in an almost shy(?) tone.

"like live in your chambers?" you asked in shock as he nodded his head slowly. his eyes darted around your face as if he was looking for some type of expression showing you were into that idea.

"yes is that not something you want? i'll send all the concubines to toji's! he'll be glad to have them, he's been begging for riko." he exclaimed and you laughed at his frantic state. 'who's riko?' you thought to yourself but ended up just shrugging it off. "i'll even marry you. do you want to get married?"

"wait kuna calm down." you laugh as his chest rises and falls rapidly. "let this sink in okay? i'll move into your chambers and you can keep the concubines here for now. once we both decide on the right time to get married then you can send them away." you smiled trying to be reasonable and he nodded agreeing with your plan.

"yeah okay, that'll work." he nods trying to act nonchalant as if he didn't try to marry you after the first time.

"i love you kuna," you say looking up at him through your lashes and he grunts.

"yeah."

[saintzweig]

tashi duncan x ditzy gf!reader hcs <3

୨ৎ think season 1/ pre-lobotomy cat valentine!!!

୨ৎ tashi could not remember how the two of you even became friends, with your personalities being so far off each other. she's more ambitious and disciplined while you were carefree and ... silly :p

୨ৎ you was adopted into her friend group after a project (art and patrick) and the next thing she knew, you were following her around like a puppy.

୨ৎ she felt kind of protective and possessive over you, to be fair you were very accident prone so it felt natural but unlike anything she's ever felt towards anyone.

୨ৎ like during parties, when you've had too much to drink (your limit is like, three sips) she gives you water disguised as champagne. she thinks it's funny you get giggly like you were actually drinking alcohol.

୨ৎ has one hand on your backpack every time you're walking together so she can pull you away from anything that can potentially trip you.

୨ৎ the transition from being friends to girlfriends wasn't hard and surprising to anyone, you two have been acting like you were more than friends even before she realized she likes you. the only difference now is tashi's not fighting the urge to kiss you whenever she felt like it.

୨ৎ she has a hard time controlling her temper when she hears other people talk about you and your 'airheadedness'. she hates backhanded compliments especially, "oh it's so cute that your girlfriend is so dumb, i bet you like taking care of her"

୨ৎ she does like taking care of you, but you weren't dumb. you're just ... easily excitable.

୨ৎ tashi enables your lip balm hoarding addiction too, buying you the silliest flavors she comes across when shopping. loves playing 'guess the flavor' with you too :")

୨ৎ when she's busy with training or she's far away for a competition, she sends art to make sure you're okay. has him walk you to class during his free time and join you during meals to make sure you finish your food.

୨ৎ doesn't like you hanging out alone with patrick ... you're easily persuaded and god knows what he'll have you do, it's nothing bad, but knowing patrick he'll be reckless.

୨ৎ the last time you were left alone with him, he convinced you to convince tashi to do a car wash charity thing because he wants to see college girls in their bikinis :/

୨ৎ she said no

୨ৎ will say yes everytime you ask her the question 'will you still love me if i was a worm'

୨ৎ you gifted her a worm named after you so she can take care of it but she lost it three days later. (only art knows that it crawled out of it's box and ended up climbing on patrick ... it's in heaven now)

୨ৎ she spent a week trying to woo you into forgiving her, trying to convince you she'll be more careful if you actually turned into a worm.

୨ৎ leaves you alone during exam weeks because she knows you're so easily distracted, but once it ends she'll make it up to you by taking you out on well deserved dates and having sleep overs.

୨ৎ helps you dye your hair every time and will use the left overs on the tips of her hair so you can match :)

୨ৎ wears your bra strap on her wrists during games for good luck <3

[beomiracles]

You think you have seen long reblogs pffffft, well you have not seen mine *cracks knuckles*

*clears throat* so. Where to start… first of all, i have like a whole ahh list of all my favorite parts, so buckle up cause this is gonna be a long one. — NOT EVEN A FULL 300 WORDS IN AND I’M ALREADY HIGHLIGHTING STUFF; “I would rather rule with my heart than sell it to the highest bidder.” i’m sorry but this sentence is just so powerful, i hardly have words to describe it with. Which is one thing i really really like about this fic, she keeps on choosing her heart every single time. She didn’t waver once, which in my opinion, gets annoying when the mc kinda strays back and forth, should i..should i not.. Yada yada. NO. this woman knew what she wanted from the get go and she was not afraid to show it. “You’re going to ruin me, princess,” he said softly. “Then let me ruin you,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him again. Another great example of my previous words. 

Matter of fact, that whole scene got me choked up. “That love isn’t a curse,Yeonjun,” you said, leaning forward. “It’s a gift. Even if it’s fleeting, even if it’s painful when it’s gone, it’s still worth having.” I AM GAGGED, GRABBED BY THE THROAT. Idk, she just had such a beautiful way of seeing things throughout the entire fic, i will not ever get over it i fear. Not to mention this; He froze, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t know me. “Then tell me,” you said, your voice softening. “Tell me about your life. Let me understand.” i love how she literally peels back his layers and gets him to open up in such a comforting and safe way. 

“You look like you wandered out of a ball. Did you lose your way to the dance floor?” oh yes i giggled at this btw hehehe 

Onto something very important, their letter exchanges. OH MY GODDDD. I’m sorry i’m very sappy and reading those letters was actually clawing at my fragile heart. The way you can feel the yearning within their words, i’m gonna spiral, it also gave me inspiration for a fic, COUGH moving on. Every day feels longer than the last without you here. I thought I was a man who had learned to live without hope, but you’ve made me realize how much I’ve missed it. The woods are quiet now, but I hear your laugh in the wind and feel your presence in every shadow. BUT I HEAR YOUR LAUGH IN THE WIND AND FEEL YOUR PRESENCE IN EVERY SHADOW OH SHAKESPEARE IS QUAKING IN HIS MFING GRAVE RIGHT NOW. it’s the way yeonjun describers her with such love and adoration i am literally so fucking weak i could cry a whole river. 

Their relationship just felt so raw, i can’t explain it, but it was like they both needed each other in the most pure and desperate form ever. Yeonjun losing his family and reader never having one at all, the way they’re just so drawn to each other without being able to refrain from keeping away. I am weak. — and let’s not even talk about how fucking fine archer yeonjun is because what the actual fuck, He reaches for another arrow, the muscles in his arms flexing under the thin fabric of his shirt. BOM SHAKALAKA YES GAWD YES GAWD, GIMME THAT GIMME THAT. 

The brief beomgyu cameo gave me literal life, i will claw at anything that is beomgyu for as long as i live. Imagine a little nerd with fat glasses whose special interest gets even slightly mentioned, that’s me when beomgyu, excitedly jumping up and down n kicking my feet as i giggle hysterically. 

"Tell me you mean it," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me this isn’t just a dream." You didn’t care if you sounded silly and childish. This was the equivalent to whispering pinch me i’m dreaming but it didn't matter, you needed to hear it. His hands came up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that clung to your skin. "It’s real," he murmured. "I promise you, it’s real." And then his lips were on yours. …. Gonna leave this here for you all to ponder. 

Oh rae. rae, rae, rae, rae… you knew this part was coming. kai kamal huening. What do you honestly wish of me? Because if it is to actively plot my soon-to-be self homicide attempt you have done it. — he’s so sweet, and just a baby, and he’s doing everything he can to take care of his family. Kai nodded slowly, his youthful energy appearing once more. "I won’t let my family down. I’ll keep practicing, and I’ll take care of them."  BABY YOU’RE GONNA DIE DON’T MAKE PLANS FOR THE FUTURE. Sigh, but The sunshine x grumpy with him and yeonjun, kills myself… “I know they died..” Kai said, surprising Yeonjun. “I’m sorry. I can be your family now.” OH FOR HEAVENS SAKE THROW YOURSELF OFF A CLIFF. 

What hurt even more was that i KNEW that he was dying. Each fucking scene was like knifes to my chest. Imagine me on the street, wounded and slowly bleeding out, rain pours over me, covering me whole and making me shiver as i take my last dying breath. AND YOU RAE, you step on my outstretched hand. That’s what i felt when you killed him off. 

AND YOU JUST KEPT STABBING ME. as if brutally murdering me wasn't already enough. “Your little messenger screamed your name the whole time. Begged us to let him go. Begged for you to save him.” you know i almost stopped reading here… but then i was like, “nah lemme actually put my big girl pants on and get through this” only for you to drop THIS: “The boy cried for you, you know. Right up until the end.”

Hah. well. Fuck you then. 

But as my final point i want to highlight how much i love yeonjun and mcs relationship, their fucking passion for each other. As if the letters, the yearning and the longing wasn’t enough. "Let them try. I won’t let them take you from me." YES BABY I’M THROWING UP AND CRYING BUT YES YE SYES YES. heh. 

BUT LOW AND BEHOLD GUYS. now she’s trying to bandage my bleeding wounds by ending it like this; “This place was never really mine,” he said, his voice low. “It was always meant for someone else.” 

She slipped her hand into his, squeezing it gently. “Then let’s find something that is ours.” (it worked, fuck you rae) 

In all the fic was so flowy and easy to read, it immersed you perfectly in the plot and stuck to an interesting and eventful storyline, nothing felt out of place or rushed, everything was just magnificent, even if it stung like a bitchhh. 

Giving this a 5/5 of goodreads, and um, this is two pages long on a doc. 

A KISS FOR THE CURSED - ,, ୧ ‧₊˚ c.yj

》 In a kingdom of stone and gold, there lived a princess with hair as pink as the dawn. Her heart, though draped in royal jewels, was heavy with the weight of expectation, for the king and queen demanded she find a husband worthy of her title. The castle’s walls pressed close, and her spirit yearned for freedom, for something beyond the cold, glittering halls.

One day, when the pressure became too great, she slipped away from the castle and wandered into the woods, seeking solace in its quiet embrace. It was there, among the trees, that she met him—a boy, no older than she, with eyes like the forest and a bow slung over his shoulder. He was a hunter, living in a humble cabin, selling the fruits of his labor to those who passed by. But in the way he moved, so graceful and wild, the princess saw something more—a soul untainted by the constraints of royalty....

》 𝔱𝔵𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 & 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢…

pairings » archer!yeonjun x princess!reader

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 » smut » royal au » forbidden romance »

warnings » smut, loss of virginity, fingering, oral (f) receiving, angst, longing, forbidden romance, yeonjun hunts animals, reader has pink hair, very heavily inspired by the 'once upon a broken heart' series by Stephanie garber, major character death, kai is seventeen in this, also featuring beomgyu briefly, blood, beatings, dungeons, toxic parents, royal hierarchy, a bit of grumpy x sunshine, readers pov is 2nd person "You" yeonjun's pov is 3rd person "He" a lot is in yeonjun's pov though, yeonjun has a noticeable scar on his eyebrow (for the plot), kind of love at first sight, this is not slow burn sorry, there is a disease called "The fever"

« 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 »

word count « 24K »

The golden glow of a single candle bathes your chambers, its light dancing across the silk-draped walls. You sit at your vanity, brushing your hair with slow, deliberate strokes. The polished wood of the brush feels cool in your hand, a small comfort against the storm brewing inside you. Behind you, there’s the soft rustle of skirts, a sound that sets your nerves on edge even before she speaks. “Darling,” your mother begins, her voice sweet, almost sing-song as she opens your door without so much as a knock.  “You’re twenty now. A woman grown. You can’t keep hiding behind those books and tapestries forever.” She glides across the room and perches on the edge of your bed, her posture as poised and deliberate as her words. 

“I’m not hiding, Mother,” you reply without turning to face her. Your reflection catches hers in the mirror—a study in contrasts. You, unadorned and weary. Her, perfect and poised, a mask of maternal care that you’ve come to mistrust. She was not the sweet doting mother she pretends to be, and you felt her icy-ness as soon as she neared you. 

“Of course not,” she says with a light laugh, the sound brushing away your words as though they were a child’s excuse. “But it’s time you thought seriously about your future. The kingdom needs alliances and a good match could secure that.” 

You place the brush down with deliberate care and turn to face her. “And what if I don’t love any of these ‘good matches’? Am I to bind myself to someone who sees me as nothing more than a means to an end?” You had grown tired of this same conversation. One you've had a million times over with her and your father. 

She sighs, and for a moment, the warmth in her voice almost feels real. Almost. “Oh, my sweet girl, love is a luxury we can’t always afford. Your father and I—” She pauses, her hand drifting to her heart as if recalling a fond memory. “We grew to love each other over time. You’ll see. Love often follows where duty leads.” You narrow your eyes, searching her face for cracks in the mask. “Did it? Did love really follow, or did you simply learn to endure it?”

Her expression wavers—just for a heartbeat—but it’s enough. The softness in her eyes hardens, and when she stands, it’s with a grace that feels more commanding than comforting. “Don’t let childish notions blind you” she says, her tone sharper now. “The world isn’t a fairy tale. It’s a harsh, unyielding place, and one day, you’ll rule it. You must start preparing for that now.” 

Your throat tightens, but you manage to keep your voice steady. “I would rather rule with my heart than sell it to the highest bidder.” 

Her lips curl into a smile, and she steps closer, cupping your cheek in her hand. The gesture is tender, but her eyes betray her—calculating, assessing. “You’ll understand someday, my love,” she murmurs. “And when you do, you’ll thank me for guiding you.” You pull away, your skin burning where her hand had rested. She lingers for a moment longer, her presence suffocating even in its quietness. Then, with a swish of her skirts, she moves to the door. The click of it closing echoes in the silence she leaves behind. You stare at your reflection, your chest heaving with unshed tears and unsaid words. The candlelight catches the glint of defiance in your eyes, and in that moment, you vow that no one—not even your mother—will decide your future for you.

You had never snuck out of the castle before. The thought had scared you enough that you hadn’t ever dared to attempt it, but tonight you felt you had to. The suffocating four walls of your chambers had felt so overbearing that the thought of another second in them would cause the end of your life. You had to escape, even if only for a few hours at least. You needed fresh air. To feel the wind in your hair, smell the trees and feel the grass between your fingertips. 

You rarely get that these days, with all the preparations of finding you a husband and shipping you off to some unknown country with a man that was to be your husband and yet a stranger at the same time. You couldn't handle it anymore. You grabbed your cloak and made quick work on sneaking out. 

The castle sleeps. Its towering spires stretch into the star-speckled sky, dark against the moonlight. You slip from your chambers, the soft soles of your boots muffling each step on the cold stone floor. The velvet cloak swirls around your ankles, its deep green fabric blending into the shadows as you descend the servant's staircase. Your heart races, but not from fear. It's the exhilaration of escape, of leaving behind the suffocating weight of expectations.

The conversation you and your mother had not even an hour ago swimming in your mind. The words of your father this morning echoing in your head like a cacophony "This lord has lands to the west," they said. "That one commands an army. It’s time to secure your future.” You grit your teeth at the thought, gripping the edge of your cloak tighter. They don’t understand. Marriage isn’t what frightens you—it’s the thought of marrying someone who sees you as a pawn, not a person. You couldn't bring yourself to have a marriage like your mother and fathers. A marriage that lacked authenticity, lacked real love. You refused it. Rebuked it. 

The air is cooler as you reach the garden gate, slipping through the narrow gap you discovered years ago. The guards won’t check here; they never do. Beyond the walls lies freedom, the forest calling to you like an old friend. The scent of damp earth and pine greets you as you step into the woods. The moon guides your path, its light filtering through the canopy. You keep your pace quick but quiet. You had a general idea of the outlands of the castle from all of your lessons. You needed to know how to get out of the castle in case of an attack. You were sure that your teachers didn't know you'd be using the information they taught you to sneak out, but here you were. 

The forest feels alive tonight. Crickets chirp in the underbrush, and a gentle breeze stirs the leaves above. Each step takes you further from the castle, from the expectations, from the stifling weight of duty. You keep your steps light trying your best to make as little as sound as possible. You couldn't risk being caught. Then you hear it, a faint thwack ahead, the unmistakable sound of an arrow striking wood. You freeze, heart leaping into your throat. Slowly, carefully, you edge closer, stepping around a patch of dry leaves to avoid making a sound. Peeking around a thick oak, you see him. A man unfamiliar to you. He stands in the clearing, tall and strong, his silhouette framed by moonlight. A bow is in his hands, an arrow already knocked. His movements are fluid, deliberate, as if every motion is a part of a dance. The arrow flies, and your breath catches as it strikes dead center on the straw target.

He’s beautiful. The moon shines just enough through the branches of the trees above him creating a halo like light over his head and face. You should turn back. You know this. You should retrace your steps and leave before he notices you. But you don’t. Something about him holds you in place. His focus, the grace in his movements, the quiet strength in the way he adjusts his stance. He’s close to your age, maybe a year or two older, with dark hair that curls at the nape of his neck. He’s the most handsome man you have ever laid your eyes on. And by far the most graceful. 

He reaches for another arrow, the muscles in his arms flexing under the thin fabric of his shirt. You crouch lower behind the tree, your cloak pooling around you. The thrill of sneaking out has faded into something else—something warmer, something unfamiliar. You had never had the privilege of just watching a man so..closely like this. You weren't even allowed to be around a man without a chaperone. You tell yourself you’re just curious. It’s not often you meet someone out here in the woods. But as you watch him, you realize it’s more than that. He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever seen before. 

He has no idea you’re here. And for now, you’re content to watch, hidden in the shadows of the trees, as he draws and releases, each arrow flying true. The world feels smaller at this moment. The castle and its demands are miles away, and the only thing that exists is you, the moonlit forest, and the archer practicing under the stars. You watch for only a breath longer before the stillness breaks under your foot. A dry leaf, hidden beneath the forest loam, crumples with a loud crack that seems to echo in the night. The archer freezes. His body tenses as he pivots toward you, bow raised, an arrow drawn in a heartbeat. The sudden movement sends a jolt of panic through you, and you instinctively step back, pressing against the rough bark of the tree.

“Who’s there?” His voice is sharp, low, and commanding. The moonlight glints off his eyes—hard and narrowed, scanning the shadows where you’re hidden. You hold your breath, heart hammering in your chest. For a moment, you consider fleeing, but before you can move, he spots you. “Show yourself,” he demands, the arrow steady in his grip. 

Slowly, you step out from behind the tree, your hands raised in a gesture of surrender. The cloak’s hood still shrouds your face, but the moonlight catches the strands of pink hair peeking out. His gaze sharpens, and you see his brow furrow as he lowers the bow slightly. “a girl?” His voice softens but only slightly, his tone still laced with suspicion. He lowers the bow completely but doesn’t relax, his eyes studying you intently. “What are you doing out here, creeping around like that?” 

You swallow, suddenly acutely aware of how small you feel under his piercing gaze. “I wasn’t creeping,” you say, your voice soft but steady. “I was… walking. I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“Walking,” he repeats, his tone flat and disbelieving. He glances at your cloak, the fine embroidery glinting faintly in the moonlight. “In the middle of the night. Alone. Right.” He snorts, shaking his head as if the very idea is absurd. “Who are you?” His demeanor startled you, not expecting such a graceful man to sound so..rough. 

You hesitate. You’re not ready to give your name—or your title. “No one important.” If he knew you were the princess there was no guessing what he would do. Turn you in? Kidnap you? Hold you for ransom, it was unknown but you'd rather not find out. 

He arches an eyebrow, unimpressed. “No one important who sneaks through the woods and watches people like a ghost.” 

Heat rises to your cheeks, both from embarrassment and indignation. “I wasn’t watching you—well, not on purpose. I heard something, and I… got curious.” You couldn't explain to him that you didn't get out much, he would ask too many questions. You'd rather have him think you a dumb naive girl then a sheltered princess. 

His expression softens, but only slightly. He seems to accept your answer, though he doesn’t seem thrilled about it. “Curiosity gets people into trouble. Especially out here.” You should feel insulted by his gruffness, but instead, you find yourself intrigued. There’s something captivating about the way he carries himself, the guarded way he speaks. He’s not like the polished, over-rehearsed lords who populate the castle halls. He’s… real. It was as perplexing as it was scary, how little knowledge you had of the common folk, how little you saw them. He was beautiful like a prince, even more than most but something about him felt unpolished and you admired that. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant. But you can’t help the way your eyes linger on him, tracing the sharp angles of his face, the way the moonlight highlights his dark hair. He’s beautiful in a way that feels almost unfair, though his scowl adds an edge to it, like he’s carved from stone. He notices your lingering gaze and narrows his eyes. “What?” How he wasn’t more concerned by a random girl creeping on him in the middle of the night had struck you. 

“Nothing,” you say quickly, pulling your cloak tighter around you. “I just… I’ve never seen anyone shoot like that before.” Which was the truth. You had never seen the guards in true action, you had only seen them practicing and even then they were nowhere near as precise as this man was. 

His scowl deepens, though a faint hint of surprise flickers in his expression. “You were watching me.” 

Your cheeks flush again, and you look away, hoping the shadows hide your embarrassment. “Only for a moment. You’re… good.” 

For the first time, he seems caught off guard. He looks at you as if trying to figure you out, then sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, whoever you are, it’s late, and you shouldn’t be out here. Go home.” You hated the way he spoke to you, like you were a useless pesky object in his way. Like everyone around you spoke to you. 

His tone is dismissive, but you don’t move. Instead, you tilt your head, studying him. “Why are you out here, then?” 

He hesitates, his jaw tightening. “That’s none of your business.” 

“And me being here is none of yours,” you counter, surprising yourself with your boldness. You had never talked back to anyone before. Partly in fear of what your mother and father would do to you as a punishment. For a moment, he just stares at you, his eyes catching the moonlight. 

“You’re stubborn,” he mutters, shaking his head. 

“And you’re grumpy,” you reply, the words slipping out before you can stop them. 

“Suit yourself. Just don’t get in my way.” He says with a snark, dismissing you completely. As he turns back to his target, knocking another arrow, you find yourself smiling beneath your hood. For the first time in days, you feel alive—caught in the strange, thrilling pull of the forest, the night, and the boy who doesn’t know who you are. It was hopelessly refreshing, having someone to banter with. He hadn't known you were the princess. All expectations of respectfully boring conversation were not needed here, you felt normal. 

You don’t leave. Something about him keeps you rooted to the spot. Maybe it’s his impenetrable demeanor, so unlike anyone you’ve met before. Or maybe it’s the way he seems utterly unconcerned by you, as though you’re not worth the effort of a proper scolding. Either way, instead of retreating, you take a few cautious steps closer. “What are you still doing here?” he asks without looking back, his voice carrying a rough edge. He draws another arrow and lets it fly. Thwack. It lands squarely in the center of the target. You swear you could have drooled at the sight alone. You were just a girl after all. 

“I told you—I was walking,” you say, folding your arms beneath the cloak. 

​​“In the middle of the night. In that?” He gestures vaguely toward you without turning. Your cloak shifts as you glance down at yourself. The hem of your pink dress peeks out, delicate and impractical. The sight of it makes you wince. It’s not exactly what you’d have chosen for sneaking into the woods, but there hadn’t been time to change. You had very minimal time before the confines of your bedroom swallowed you whole. 

“Yes, this,” you reply, tilting your chin. “Not all of us plan our wardrobe for forest excursions.” 

That earns you a glance over his shoulder. His eyes rake over you, lingering just long enough to make you self-conscious. Then he snorts. “You look like you wandered out of a ball. Did you lose your way to the dance floor?” Your spine straightens at his words. He didn’t know..did he? 

Your cheeks burn. “For your information, I didn’t plan to be out here tonight.” You try your best to avert the subject, avoiding all talk of balls and princess-like duties. 

“Oh, clearly,” he mutters, turning back to his bow. “Because you definitely blend right in.” 

You roll your eyes, stepping closer again. “Are you always this charming, or am I just lucky?” Your lips purse suppressing your smile. That gets his attention. He pauses mid-draw and glances at you, one eyebrow raised. For a moment, you think you’ve caught him off guard, but then his lips twitch in what might be the ghost of a smirk. “Lucky,” he says dryly, before loosing the arrow. Another perfect shot. 

You shake your head, exasperated but oddly entertained. “You’re impossible.” 

“And you’re nosy,” he counters, retrieving another arrow. 

“I don't get out much.” You say with a lift of your shoulders. 

“Clearly.” He deadpanned. “What’s your excuse for being out here, anyway? Fancy dresses and all?” 

The question catches you off guard. You hesitate, pulling your cloak tighter. “I needed to get away.” 

“From what?” he asks, his tone skeptical. 

You glance at the ground, then back up at him. His eyes are on you now, not the target, and you feel a strange urge to tell the truth. Not all of it, but enough. “Look who's being nosey now.” He snorts as you continue “My parents,” you admit softly. “They’re… overbearing.” 

He snorts. “Overbearing parents? Shocking.” 

You narrow your eyes. “I’m serious. They’ve been pressuring me nonstop, telling me who I should be, what I should want. It’s—” You trail off, shaking your head. “It’s exhausting.” 

For a moment, he just looks at you, the teasing edge in his expression fading. “So, what? You ran off to the woods to escape their nagging?” 

“Something like that,” you say, lifting your chin. “Not that it’s any of your business.” 

He huffed a laugh and leaned against his bow. “Fair enough. But sneaking into the woods wearing that dress?” He gestures again at the hem of your gown. “Bold choice.” 

“Do you ever stop criticizing people?” you shoot back, though there’s no real venom in your words. 

“Not when they make it this easy.” His smirk returns, faint but noticeable. 

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling beneath your hood. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not leaving.” 

“Suit yourself,” he mutters, turning back to his target. “Just don’t expect me to babysit you if you trip over your fancy shoes.”  

You bite back a retort and instead settle against a tree to watch him. He doesn’t seem to mind—though he throws the occasional glance your way, as if checking to make sure you haven’t disappeared or done something foolish. The silence stretches, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves and the rhythmic thwack of his arrows. It’s strangely comforting, this moment shared with a stranger in the middle of the woods. For the first time in weeks, the weight of the crown on your head feels a little lighter. 

You watch as he moves with practiced ease, drawing and releasing arrow after arrow. The steady rhythm of his practice feels like the heartbeat of the forest, grounding you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. For a moment, you close your eyes, letting the quiet wash over you. The weight of the day—the endless parade of suitors, the sharp-edged words of your parents, the suffocating walls of the castle—feels distant now, almost unreal. Out here, under the stars, you’re not the princess with a duty to marry for the good of the kingdom. You’re just… you. 

The thought stirs something bittersweet in your chest. You know this moment can’t last. Sooner or later, you’ll have to return to the castle, to the expectations and the responsibilities. This fleeting sense of freedom, of solace, will be nothing but a memory. You open your eyes again, focusing on him. He’s still at it, firing arrow after arrow with a precision that’s almost mesmerizing. There’s a quiet determination in the way he moves, as though this practice is more than a simple pastime. It feels like a ritual, a way of carving out his own space in the world. He moved like he was meant to be there, like the act of archery was engraved into his soul. 

For a brief, foolish moment, you wonder what it would be like to stay. To slip away from the castle every night, to watch him practice and trade sharp words under the moonlight. But you shake the thought away. It’s impossible. Still, you linger. You don’t want to leave just yet—not while the night still feels alive around you, not while you can still breathe without the weight of the crown pressing down.

Silently, you push away from the tree and step back into the shadows. The forest seems quieter now, as though it knows you’re leaving. You glance back once, catching the faint glint of his bow in the moonlight, the outline of his form as he lines up another shot. You slip away before he can notice, retracing your steps through the woods and back toward the castle. The chill of the night air clings to you, and the weight of reality begins to settle back onto your shoulders with each step closer to the towering walls.

By the time you slip through the garden gate, the spell is broken. The castle looms ahead, its windows dark and silent, the very air around it heavy with expectations. But for a few precious hours, you had tasted something different—something real. And as you climb the servant’s staircase back to your chambers, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever see him again. 

The morning sun filters through the stained-glass windows of the dining hall, casting jeweled patterns onto the long oak table. You sit in your usual seat, the one that feels more like a throne than a chair, the weight of your parents’ presence pressing down on you like the crown you don’t yet wear. Breakfast is a quiet affair, at least for you. The clink of silverware and the murmurs of servants fill the space as your father, The king mutters about political alliances to your mother, The Queen. His deep voice carries a sharp edge, his words precise and biting, even when directed at your mother. You keep your head down, focused on the food sitting in front of you. 

You barely hear him call your name. Your thoughts are elsewhere—lost in the forest, in the soft rustle of leaves and the quiet thwack of an arrow hitting its mark. You see the archer in your mind’s eye, his focused gaze, the smooth movement of his hands as he loosed each shot. “Are you listening?” your father snaps, his voice cutting through your reverie like a whip. 

You blink, startled, and glance up at him. His dark eyes are cold and unforgiving, his thick brows drawn into a scowl. “Yes, Father,” you lie, though you have no idea what he just said. Trying to gather yourself. Your father was a very angry man, even more so when you were being disobedient. 

He doesn’t believe you—he never does—but he waves it off, taking another bite of bread. “Good. Then you understand how important this ball is.” 

The word ball yanks you out of your thoughts entirely. You sit up straighter, your heart sinking. “A ball?” You narrowly avoided most balls claiming to be sick, or having your nursemaid lie and say you had lessons very early in the morning. Not like your parents knew you were lying, they rarely kept track of those things, only that they were being done. 

“Yes,” your mother says, her voice softer but no less resolute. She looks at you with the faintest trace of pity, but it does little to soothe the knot forming in your chest. “It’s time for you to meet suitors. Proper ones. The lords of the neighboring countries will all be in attendance.” 

You shake your head, your fingers tightening around the silver spoon in your hand. “I don’t want a ball. I don’t want suitors.” You regretted the words as soon as they left your lips. Any defiance to your father was a grave mistake, one you were sure you’d regret shortly here. 

Your father slams his goblet onto the table, making you flinch. “You don’t get to decide what you want,” he growls. “You have a duty to this kingdom, girl. Do you think your whims matter when alliances are at stake?” His words shake you. You knew how he felt but hearing him say it didn't make the blow any less hurtful. It brought you back to the quiet nights you spent curled into a ball on your bed at eight years old wondering why your daddy didn't love you like the other daddies did, why was yours so mean. 

You lower your gaze to your plate, your stomach twisting. The archer’s face flickers in your mind again, unbidden. You wonder what he would say if he saw you like this, cowed under your father’s fury. The pink hue of your long hair covering your face shielding you from your embarrassment. “You’ll go to your dress fitting after breakfast,” your mother adds, her tone brisk as though she’s trying to smooth over the tension. “Nursemaid Kora will take you. Everything must be perfect.” 

Perfect. The word feels like shackles on your wrists. 

“Do you understand?” your father demands. 

“Yes,” you say quietly, though the word feels like ash on your tongue. The king grunts, satisfied, and turns back to his food. The rest of breakfast passes in strained silence, broken only by the occasional murmur of servants or the scrape of knives on plates. Your thoughts were loud as they rattled around in your head. 

Oh how did you long for a normal life, with a normal family and parents who loved you. You glance toward the far end of the room, where the king’s guard stands like statues, their polished armor gleaming faintly in the morning light. Their presence is a constant reminder of the cage you live in—one gilded and grand, but a cage nonetheless. 

Your mind drifts again, this time to the forest, to the sense of freedom you’d felt beneath the trees. To the archer, with his sharp gaze and quiet strength. You wonder if he’s out there now, practicing his craft in the clearing. Does he think about you at all? Did he even notice the way you lingered last night? You thought of his beautiful face and the way the moonlight caught it just right. 

Foolishly you thought of a life with him. One filled with love and light, one that you had only conjured in your mind. It was unattainable and you were sure you would never see him again but still the thought loosened your bones and slowled the rapid beating of your heart. You didn't even know his name, and he yours but still you daydreamed the way he would whisper it, into the woods and into wind all the way until it reached you. It would engulf you, swirling around your being and reaching your heart. 

Your mother calls your name with a softness that only you knew was faux. “Come.” She says rising from her seat. “Kora is waiting.” You nod numbly and stand, your pink dress swishing around your legs as you follow her out of the dining hall. But your heart stays behind, tangled somewhere between the memory of the archer’s steady hands and the ache of knowing you’ll likely never see him again. 

The village square bustled with life, though as always, it seemed to pulse around him, not with him. Yeonjun stood near the edge of the market, his wares laid out neatly on a rough-hewn table: freshly skinned rabbit pelts, bundles of dried herbs, and slabs of venison wrapped in cloth. He adjusted the placement of the furs, not because they needed straightening, but because it gave him something to do.

The morning sun warmed his back, but he felt no comfort in it. A pair of women whispered as they passed, their glances darting his way like skittish birds. One muttered a prayer under her breath, her gaze lingering on the scar that cut across his brow—a mark left by a long-forgotten accident but whispered about like it was the devil’s curse. They always whispered about him. Yeonjun the orphan. Yeonjun the cursed. He clenched his jaw and focused on his work, brushing his fingers over the pelts. Let them talk.

“Still brooding, I see.” Yeonjun didn’t need to look up to recognize the voice. Beomgyu, his only friend, or as close to one as he allowed. The man sauntered over, carrying a sack slung across his broad shoulders, his cheeks red from the morning chill.

“I’m not brooding,” Yeonjun muttered, though he didn’t lift his head. 

“Sure you’re not.” Beomgyu dropped the sack beside the table with a dull thud. “You’ve got that same ‘stay away from me’ look you always do.” Beomgyu sent Yeonjun a crooked teasing grin. 

Yeonjun gave him a sidelong glance. “It works, doesn’t it?”

Beomgyu laughed, a deep, easy sound that drew a few more glances from the villagers. Unlike Yeonjun , Beomgyu seemed immune to the weight of their stares. His carelessness was off putting to Yeonjun “You know, you might be less miserable if you actually talked to people once in a while.”

“I talk to you, don’t I?” Yeonjun said flatly.

Beomgyu shook his head, still smiling. “I’m not people. I’m a saint for putting up with you.” A saint was far from what Yeonjun would call Beomgyu. The boy was anything but a saint. 

Yeonjun huffed a quiet laugh despite himself, but the faint flicker of amusement quickly faded. His mind drifted unbidden to the girl in the woods. Her cloak, the way the moonlight caught the strands of pink hair peeking from beneath it. Who was she? Although he rarely frequented the village, opting to stick to his little cabin in the woods, he was sure that he would spot that bright pink hair anywhere on any given day. Everyone came to the village on selling days, surely he would have seen her walking around, right? 

He’d told himself to forget her. To let her vanish into the shadows of memory like everything else. But the image of her standing beneath the trees, her voice soft but bold, wouldn’t leave him. “Anyway,” Beomgyu said, breaking Yeonjun’s thoughts, “I came to ask you something.”

Yeonjun raised a thick brow. “What?”

Beomgyu grinned, a little too wide. “There’s work up at the castle.”

Yeonjun’s expression darkened immediately. “No.” 

“Don’t be like that,” Beomgyu said, unfazed. “The princess’s ball is coming up. They need extra hands for the feast. We’d be in the kitchens, nothing fancy. Just bringing up meat for the royals.”

“I said no,” Yeonjun growled, his voice low.

Beomgyu leaned against the table, crossing his arms. Gone was the playfulness, a look of desperation in its place. “Look, I know you hate the nobles—” 

“I don’t hate them,” Yeonjun snapped. “I just don’t care for their games.” 

“Fine. Call it what you want. But they’re paying good coin, and we could use the work.” Beomgyu’s voice softened slightly. “You could use it, Yeonjun. How long are you going to keep doing this?” He gestured to the table, to the furs and meat that earned just enough to keep him alive. Yeonjun glanced down, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. He did need the money. 

“Fine,” he muttered finally, his voice sharp and bitter. 

Beomgyu clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man.” Yeonjun flinched away from the touch, shrugging it off. He started packing up his things, his movements quick and tense. But even as he worked, his mind drifted again to the girl in the woods. 

Her voice had been so sure when she’d said she was curious, her smile hidden beneath her hood. And yet, there had been something else in her eyes, something that mirrored the ache he carried in his own chest. Almost like a mirror of himself. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t see her again. 

Everyone he loved—everyone he cared for—was gone. His family, his friends. Death followed him like a shadow, and he would not drag her into it. He wouldn’t. He would take the coin from the castle and leave. He wouldn’t think about her again. But as he slung his pack over his shoulder and followed Beomgyu out of the square, he knew it was a lie.

The cabin creaked as the night wind curled around its edges, pushing through the gaps in the wooden shutters. Yeonjun sat by the hearth, sharpening his hunting knife with slow, deliberate strokes. The repetitive motion grounded him, giving him a momentary reprieve from his restless thoughts. The fire crackled, casting shadows on the walls, but the warmth did little to soften the cold weight in his chest. The girl from the woods was still there in his mind, her pink hair catching the moonlight, her voice lilting like birdsong. He hated that he kept thinking about her. 

A sharp knock at the door broke the stillness. Yeonjun froze, his hand tightening on the knife. For a long moment, he didn’t move, his eyes fixed on the door. No one came out here—no one dared, except for Beomgyu. And Beomgyu never knocked, opting to barge whenever he pleased. Another knock, louder this time.

With a sigh, Yeonjun stood and set the knife on the table. He crossed the room, pulling the door open just enough to see who stood on the other side.A boy no older than seventeen stared up at him, his cheeks flushed from the cold and his arms full of rolled newspapers. His oversized coat hung awkwardly on his skinny frame, and his breath came in little white puffs. 

“Mr.Yeonjun!” the boy said brightly, his voice breaking through the quiet night. Yeonjun recognized him as the oldest Huening son, Kai. A paper boy for all of the village. Why he was delivering Papers this late at night was beyond Yeonjun. 

“What are you doing here?” Yeonjun said sharply, glancing past the boy to the empty forest path. “You’re supposed to leave the paper on the doorstep.” 

Kai shifted on his feet, suddenly nervous under Yeonjun’s glare. “I—I know. But I wanted to see you.” 

“Why?” Was all Yeonjun said, not in the mood for a long winded conversation at this hour. 

Kai’s face lit up, his nervousness replaced with eager determination. “I’ve seen you. In the woods. Shooting your bow. You’re amazing! No one in the village can shoot like you can.” He took a step closer, his wide eyes shining with admiration. “Will you teach me?” The light from the cabin illuminated the boy's features, catching the stark blonde of his hair and his boyish features. Although Yeonjun was only a few years older than the boy he had felt far more wise beyond his years. Kai was comparable to a..well a child in Yeonjun’s eyes. 

Yeonjun stared at him, the boy’s words settling like an unwelcome weight in his chest. “No,” he said bluntly. 

​​Kai’s  face fell, but he pressed on. “Please, I’ll work for it! I can help with chores, or—” 

“You don’t understand,” Yeonjun interrupted, his voice low and hard. “I don’t have time to waste teaching some kid how to shoot arrows.”

Kai flinched, but he held his ground. “I—I could learn fast,” he stammered. “I swear I’d—”

“Go home,” Yeonjun snapped, his hand tightening on the door. “It’s late. You shouldn’t even be out here.” Kai hesitated, but he finally nodded. Yeonjun shut the door without another word. He leaned against it for a moment, exhaling slowly as Kai’s footsteps faded down the path.

The room felt colder now, the fire’s warmth unable to reach him. He shook his head and went back to his chair, picking up the knife again. He didn’t need anyone else relying on him. He didn’t need one more thing to care about. Everyone who had ever mattered to him was gone. Kai didn’t understand what he was asking for. Yeonjun couldn’t be a mentor, a teacher, a protector. He wouldn’t risk letting someone else into his life—just to lose them too. The paper still sat on the doorstep, forgotten in the cold. 

The grand hall of the castle was an entirely different world from the forest Yeonjun knew so well. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats, spiced wine, and perfumes far too sweet for his liking. Chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, their flickering candlelight casting golden hues over the polished floors and the opulent tapestries lining the walls.Yeonjun had never set foot in the castle before. Being surrounded by so many nobles who shot him noticeable looks of disdain was something he would never get used to, even as the hours ticked by. 

Yeonjun moved silently through the crowd, a tray of roasted duck balanced on one hand. His dark tunic and dress pants, provided by the castle staff, were a poor attempt at blending in. He still felt like a wolf among peacocks. The nobility barely noticed him as he passed, save for the occasional stare, their laughter and chatter a dull hum in his ears.“Keep moving,” Beomgyu muttered as he brushed past with a tray of wine-filled glasses. “And don’t glare at everyone. You’ll scare off the coin.” 

Yeonjun grunted but said nothing, his focus on his task. He hated the castle, hated the hollow grandeur of it all. The villagers whispered about the luxury the royals lived in, and now, seeing it up close, Yeonjun understood why they seethed with resentment. “Ladies and gentlemen!” a booming voice called, silencing the room. The herald stepped forward, his red and gold uniform gleaming in the light. “May I present her royal highness, Our very own Princess. Daughter of The King and Queen!”  

Yeonjun froze.

The crowd turned toward the sweeping staircase, where she appeared, her head held high, her movements graceful and deliberate. She wore a gown of shimmering silver, the fabric catching the light like starlight on water. But it wasn’t the dress that made his chest tighten. Stopping in his tracks in the middle of the dance floor. 

It was her hair.

Pink. 

His breath caught in his throat as memories of the woods flooded back—the girl in the cloak, her bold words, her curiosity. He had thought of her endlessly since that night, but he’d never expected this. She descended the staircase slowly, her expression serene, but Yeonjun caught the brief flicker of nerves in her eyes. She scanned the room, her gaze brushing over the sea of faces, until it landed on him. Her steps faltered, just barely, and only for a mere second. It had gone unnoticed by everyone but him. He knew the look in her eye matched his own. 

Yeonjun saw the recognition in her widened eyes, the way her lips parted as though she might speak. But then she blinked, regaining her composure. Her gaze slid away as though nothing had happened, and she continued her descent. His grip on the tray tightened, his heart pounding in his chest. He had vowed not to see her again, and yet here she was, standing among the very people he resented most. He wasn’t sure what the feeling in his chest was. Resentment? Anger? A little bit of pity? Really he shouldn't be surprised that she didn't tell him who she was the night in the woods but still..Yeonjun felt like a fool. 

The evening wore on, the ball unfolding in a haze of music and laughter. Yeonjun moved through the crowd, refilling glasses and delivering trays of food. But his attention was drawn to her, no matter how hard he tried to focus on his work. She danced with suitors, her gown flowing around her like liquid light. She smiled at them, laughed at their jokes, but Yeonjun saw the tension in her posture, the way her smile never quite reached her eyes. He had only known her a short while and still he knew the true feeling behind her faux smile. How had no one noticed how much she hated this? How did the King and Queen not? Or did they just not care?

Despite the distance between them, she noticed him too. Their eyes met across the room again and again—when he passed by with a tray of wine, when she lingered near the edge of the dance floor. Each time, her gaze lingered a moment too long before she looked away. Yeonjun felt fear that someone would notice, someone who would think that there was more there than what led on. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t want to see her. By the time the night began to wane, Yeonjun was certain of one thing: the princess was just as out of place here as he was. 

As the night went on the small glances toward each other had become too much for Yeonjun to bear. The need for food and drink was starting to die down as the nobles became more intoxicated, sticking to their silly little dances and belly laughing conversations. He decided excusing himself to go outside for fresh air was the best thing for him. The cool night air was a welcome reprieve from the stifling ballroom. Yeonjun leaned against the stone balustrade of the castle balcony, the distant sound of music and laughter muffled by the heavy doors behind him. Above, the sky stretched endlessly, stars scattered like flecks of silver against the inky black. 

He let out a slow breath, running a hand through his dark hair. This was a mistake—coming here, taking this job. Seeing her. He knew even being near the castle would bring him trouble. He knew he hated royals for a reason. The door creaked open behind him, the soft rustle of fabric giving her away before she even spoke. Yeonjun closed his eyes briefly, exhaling through his nose. He looked around at his surroundings. “Shouldn’t you be inside, Your Highness?” he said without turning around to look at her. 

“I could say the same about you,” she replied, her voice carrying that same mix of curiosity and defiance he remembered from the woods. Yeonjun turned, his arms crossed. She stood just a few feet away, the silver gown catching the faint light like moonbeams on water. Her pink hair spilled over her shoulders, and she looked more like a dream than a person. A dangerous dream. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he said flatly. “Someone might see us.” 

“I don’t care,” she said, stepping closer, teetering on a thin line close to danger. 

“Well, I do,” he shot back. “If anyone gets the wrong idea—” 

“Let them,” she interrupted. Her gaze was steady, unwavering. “I wanted to talk to you.” 

​​Yeonjun sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“There is,” she insisted. “I—I wanted to explain.”

“Explain what?” He gestured toward her, his voice dropping. “That you’re a princess and I’m just some cursed hunter? That we shouldn’t even be in the same room together?” Her eyes knit together at the word cursed, it had given Yeonjun a small sprinkling of foolish hope that she hadn’t heard about him, and what people whispered about him and his family. 

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t back down. “You’re angry.” Her cheeks flush from the cold. If it weren't for the circumstances Yeonjun would have thought it to be cute. 

“I’m not angry,” Yeonjun said sharply. “I’m realistic. You shouldn’t be here, and I definitely shouldn’t be here with you.” 

She stepped closer, her voice softening. “Why not? Because I’m a princess?” Her pink hair framing her face in the most delicate way. 

“Yes!” he snapped, his eyes narrowing. “Because you’re a princess. And if anyone sees us out here, I’ll be the one paying for it, not you.” 

She hesitated, but only for a moment. “You’re right. I am a princess. And all night, I’ve had to smile and pretend that everything’s fine. That I’m perfectly happy dancing with men who don’t know a thing about me. But I saw you, and for a moment, I felt…” Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat. They were definitely inching towards a very dangerous game, one he didn't want to play. 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Yeonjun interrupted, his voice low. He couldn't hear her say it. 

“Why?” She asked, crossing her arms. “Because you’ll be tempted to feel something too?” 

He scoffed, looking away. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Unable to look her in the eye. 

“Oh, I think I’m right,” she said, a spark of mischief lighting her eyes. She smiled, and for a moment, the tension in his chest tightened. 

“You don’t understand,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me. I don’t want…” He trailed off, his hands clenching into fists. 

“Don’t want what?” she pressed gently, not that she had to press much. Yeonjun would soon turn to a pile of mush for her if she needed him to.  

“I don’t want my head to end up on a stake,” he said bluntly, turning back to her. “All because you’re having some sort of quarter-life crisis.” 

Her mouth opened in surprise, then closed again as she narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re infuriating,” she muttered. 

And you’re reckless,” he shot back. 

She tilted her head, studying him. “Is that why you keep looking at me? Because you think I’m reckless?” 

“I’m not interested in falling in love,” he said firmly, ignoring her question. 

The words seemed to land heavier than he intended. For the first time, her confidence faltered, her expression softening. “You’re lying,” she said quietly. The look on her face hurt Yeonjun more than he would like to admit. 

“Think whatever you want,” he said, stepping back toward the door. “But nothing good can come of this. Go inside, Your Highness. Your kingdom’s waiting.”

“What’s your name?” She asked with a whisper. “Please grant me that.” Her voice pleading was soft enough to melt his heart. 

“Choi Yeonjun, my name is Choi Yeonjun, and I'm sorry.” Before she could respond, he slipped back into the ballroom, leaving her standing alone on the balcony beneath the stars. 

The days following the ball were restless. You went through the motions of royal life—meals with your parents, lessons on etiquette, the endless parade of suitors vying for your hand. But none of it could hold your attention. You couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Yeonjun. 

His name was an anchor, tethering you to something real in a world that felt increasingly false. Every glance exchanged at the ball, every word spoken in the woods, played on a loop in your mind. By the third night, you couldn’t take it anymore. You knew the risks, but the yearning to see him again was stronger than your fear. As the castle sank into sleep, you enlisted the help of your nursemaid, the one person who had ever shown you an ounce of warmth. 

“She’ll kill me for this,” she muttered, bundling you into a heavy cloak. “But I’ll not have you looking like a caged bird any longer. Be back before dawn, child.” With her help, you slipped past the guards, past the watchful eyes of the palace, and into the night. The forest was alive with the sounds of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the wind. It guided you, just as it had the night before, to the clearing where you had first seen him. The path there was more grueling than you remembered, probably due to the anticipation of seeing him again. 

There he was. Yeonjun stood in the moonlight, his bow drawn, the string taut as he aimed at a crude target pinned to a tree. He let the arrow fly, and it struck true, embedding itself with a satisfying thunk. You stepped forward, the forest floor damp beneath your boots. “Impressive as always.” 

He spun around, his hand already reaching for another arrow. But this time, he didn’t nock it. His shoulders stiffened as he recognized you, and his brow furrowed in frustration. “Princess,” he said sharply, his voice low but tinged with anger. “What are you doing here?” 

“I came to see you,” you said, as calmly as you could manage, the rapid beating of your heart against your ribcage a testament to what you actually felt. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” Yeonjun hissed, stepping closer. His eyes were dark, and the tension in his frame reminded you of a coiled spring. “Do you have any idea what could happen if someone found out?” 

“I don’t care,” you replied, lifting your chin. “I had to come.” You could admit that you were being incredibly stubborn but you didn’t care. This was something you had to do. 

He shook his head, his jaw tight. “Go home, Your Highness. Now.” 

“No.” The single word hung in the air between you, and the silence stretched until it was broken by the first raindrop splashing onto the ground. The cold finally sets into your bones and sends a shiver up your spine. You wrapped your cloak closer around your body not letting the droplets of rain sway you. 

Yeonjun looked up at the sky, his expression darkening. “It’s going to pour. You need to leave.” 

“And leave a lady out in the rain? How very gallant of you,” you said, unable to resist the jab. You weren’t above a bit of manipulation. 

He muttered something under his breath before sighing deeply. “Fine. But only until the rain stops.” He turns without another word leading you down a small path. Your footsteps light as you follow closely behind him. The rain picked up in an instant pelting you in only the short walk to the cabin. 

The cabin looked cozy enough, nothing grand but you loved it. It felt intimate and new. You fought a small smile as you overlooked the dark wood, this is where Yeonjun lived. He opened the door without a word gesturing for you to go inside. 

The cabin was warm, the fire crackling in the fireplace as you stepped inside. Yeonjun shut the door behind you, his movements tense. He didn’t speak as he grabbed a blanket and thrust it toward you. “Dry off,” he said curtly. 

You took it, sitting down in the lone chair by the fire. The silence stretched between you, heavy and unspoken. “You’re angry,” you said finally. 

“Of course I’m angry,” he said, his tone clipped. “Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? If someone finds out—” 

“I’m careful,” you interrupted. “No one followed me. Kora made sure of that.” 

“That’s not the point,” he said, pacing now. “You don’t belong here, and I don’t belong in your world. Whatever this is—” He gestured between you. “It needs to stop.” 

“Why?” you asked, standing. “Because you’re scared?” Throwing the blanket he had given to you onto the chair. 

“I’m not scared,” he shot back. 

“Yes, you are,” you said, stepping closer. “You’re scared to feel something, scared to let someone in. But I see it, Yeonjun. You’re not as closed off as you pretend to be.” 

He froze, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t know me. 

“Then tell me,” you said, your voice softening. “Tell me about your life. Let me understand.” 

“You're making this difficult.” He said looking over at you, his eyes tired. His eyes caught the dark specs beautifully. Although only a few years older than you, you could tell he loved a much longer life. Had to endure things you've never even dreamed of, it aged him. 

“Why? Because I’m here?” You were not going to let this go. 

“Because you don’t belong here,” he snapped, finally meeting your gaze. “You have no idea what this world is like, what it costs.” 

You hesitated before speaking. “Then tell me. Show me what it’s like.” You pleaded again. 

His laugh was bitter, hollow. “What’s the point? You’ll go back to your castle and forget all about it.” 

“I won’t,” you said firmly. “I promise.” 

Yeonjun hesitated, the fight in him faltering as he sank onto the bench across from you. The firelight danced across his face. For a moment his vulnerability painted him as a young boy, one who suffered great loss. “My family,” he began, his voice quiet, “used to live in a village not far from here. My parents, my sister, and me. We didn’t have much, but we were happy. Then the fever came.” You didn’t dare interrupt, your chest tightening as you watched him. “They died within weeks of each other,” he said, staring into the flames. “One by one. And I… I couldn’t save them. Couldn’t do anything.” 

“Yeonjun,” you whispered, your heart aching for him.

“I’ve been on my own ever since,” he said, his voice hardening. “It’s better that way. No one else to lose. The fever hit many families but a lot of them survived. Mine did not. They call me cursed and…I started to believe I am.” 

You leaned forward, your hands gripping the edge of the chair. “But you had something beautiful once, something most people never get—a family that loved each other. I’d give anything to have had that.” He frowned, his gaze flickering to you. 

“My parents… they care about power, appearances,” you said bitterly. “I’ve never been more than a pawn to them. I used to dream of having a family like yours, people who loved me for me. Even if I lost them, at least I’d have had it for a little while.” 

Yeonjun’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t look away. “You still have a chance to love,” you said softly. “To let people in again.” 

He shook his head. “You don’t understand. Everyone I love… they die. It’s like I’m cursed.” You sat across from him, your hands folded tightly in your lap to keep them from trembling. You hadn’t anticipated how deeply his words would cut not because they hurt you, but because they made you ache for him. 

“You loved them,” you said softly, breaking the silence. 

He didn’t look at you, but his jaw tightened. “Of course I did.” 

“And they loved you,” you continued. “That’s why it hurts so much, isn’t it?”

His gaze flicked to you then, sharp and guarded. “What’s your point?” 

“That love isn’t a curse,Yeonjun,” you said, leaning forward. “It’s a gift. Even if it’s fleeting, even if it’s painful when it’s gone, it’s still worth having.” 

His laugh was bitter, a low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Easy for you to say. You’ve never lost everything.” 

You hesitated, your chest tightening. “You’re right. I haven’t. But I’ve never had what you had, either.” 

Your voice trembled. “I used to dream about having a family like yours. A mother who held me when I cried, a father who wasn’t so… cold. Even if it didn’t last forever, at least I would have known what it felt like to be truly loved.” You said again. Yeonjun’s expression softened, his eyes searching yours as though he was seeing you for the first time. 

“That’s why I came here,” you said. “Not just to get away from them, but because you made me feel something real. For once, I wasn’t just a princess. I was… me.” 

He looked away, his fingers running along the edge of his bow. “You shouldn’t have come back. You’re playing with fire, and you don’t even realize it.” 

“Maybe I do,” you said quietly. 

He shook his head. “This—whatever this is—it can’t happen. You and I are from different worlds. There’s nothing but heartbreak waiting down this road.” 

“I’m willing to take that chance,” you said, standing and crossing the room to him. And you were telling the truth. You had never truly felt love, so even if fleeting you’d kill to feel it just once. You didn't know what the future held for the two of you but you knew you were capable of loving Yeonjun, for however long the universe would allow it. 

He looked up at you, his dark eyes conflicted. “You shouldn’t be.” 

“Why not?” you challenged. “Because you’re afraid? Or because you think you’re not worth it?” 

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Then, slowly, you reached out and rested your hand on his. His fingers tensed beneath yours, but he didn’t pull away. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest. 

“Yeonjun,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let someone in. Even if it’s just for a moment.”

He closed his eyes, his breath hitching. When he opened them again, the raw vulnerability in his gaze stole yours. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said, his voice hoarse. 

“I know exactly what I’m asking,” you said, leaning closer. 

Your heart pounded as you searched his face, waiting, hoping. And then, slowly, he lifted a hand to your cheek, his fingers brushing against your skin. “I shouldn’t…” he murmured, but the words trailed off as his gaze dropped to your lips. 

“You should,” you whispered. And then he kissed you. 

It was tentative at first, a soft, testing press of his lips against yours. But the hesitation didn’t last long. The tension that had crackled between you from the moment you met ignited, and the kiss deepened, pulling you into its heat. His hand slid to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your head to deepen the connection. His other hand rested on your waist, steadying you as your knees threatened to buckle beneath the intensity of it. 

You felt everything in that kiss, his pain, his longing, his fear, and you poured your own emotions into it, trying to tell him without words that he wasn’t alone, that he didn’t have to push you away. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breaths ragged. Neither of you spoke for a long moment, the sound of the rain outside mingling with the crackle of the fire. 

“This is a mistake,” he said finally, his voice barely audible. 

“Then let it be my mistake,” you said, your voice trembling. “But don’t push me away because you’re scared.” 

His eyes met yours, and for the first time, you saw the cracks in his armor, the pieces of himself he had tried so hard to keep hidden. He didn’t move away. If anything, Yeonjun seemed frozen, his fingers still tangled in your hair, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat beneath your hand where it rested against his chest, matching the wild rhythm of your own.

Then, as if something inside him broke free, he pulled you closer. His lips found yours again, no longer tentative but fierce, like he was trying to pour every unspoken word, every buried feeling, into the kiss. You melted against him, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders, anchoring yourself as the world seemed to spin away. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepened, heat building between you like the fire crackling in the fireplace. 

Every touch, every movement, felt like a revelation. The roughness of his fingers on your skin, the way he tilted his head to take the kiss deeper, the quiet, almost desperate sound he made when your hands slipped up to cradle his face—it was all overwhelming and intoxicating and completely consuming. When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Yeonjun rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as if he was trying to steady himself. His hand remained on your waist, his thumb brushing idly against the fabric of your cloak.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. 

“I think I do,” you whispered, your own voice shaky. A sense of unfamiliar excitement pooling in your belly. 

“You don’t understand what you’re getting into.” He breathed out. 

“Then explain it to me,” you said, your tone soft but insistent. 

He hesitated, his eyes flicking down to your lips again as though he couldn’t help himself. Instead of answering, he kissed you again. 

This time, it was slower, softer. It wasn’t born of desperation but something deeper, something quieter. His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache, his hands cradling you like you were something fragile. You lost yourself in it, the world outside the cabin falling away. There was only Yeonjun. The taste of him, the warmth of his touch, the quiet strength in the way he held you. 

When he pulled back again, his lips barely brushing against yours, he rested his forehead against yours once more. “This can’t last,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Maybe it doesn’t have to,” you replied, your fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Maybe we just let it be what it is, for however long we have.” 

His eyes opened, and the vulnerability there was almost too much to bear. “You’re going to ruin me, princess,” he said softly.

“Then let me ruin you,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him again. This time, he didn’t hesitate. The kiss was more hurried, rushed and sloppy. 

“I don’t know if I can hold myself back.” He spoke with a huff. 

“Don’t.” Was all you said as you toyed with the collar of his shirt. “Don’t hold back, I want this.” 

“Have you ever done..anything before?” The question left an embarrassing red tint to your cheeks. Of course you hadn’t. This had been your first kiss. 

“No.” Your voice a whisper as you hide your blush with your hair. 

“Are you sure you want this?” His voice was firm as he gripped your hips firmly in his hand, almost like he was grounding himself. As if it was taking everything in him to not pounce on you this very moment. 

“Please.” You spoke with a newfound desperation. “I’m sure.” 

His lips attached to your neck next. It was tender and soft. The delicacy he used only quickened the speed of your already rapidly beating heart. His hands found the sleeve of your dress before slowly bringing it down your shoulder and your arm. The light from the fireplace is a catalyst to your warmth. The light illuminated the two of you like starlight. His lips moved the expanse of your neck and met your collarbone in feather-like kisses. 

“You're beautiful.” He whispered, moving your hair back. 

“Can I take this off?” Your voice was hushed with a lit of intimidation hanging in the words. You gestured to his white shirt pawing at the buttons. 

“Of course.” His smile was warm, comforting. You made quick work of unbuttoning the buttons yanking his shirt off in one fail swoop. You took your time inspecting the contours of his chest and torso. In awe of his sheer beauty. He was young, toned, and beautiful. Your fingers delicately danced around his body taking mental pictures. 

“Like what you see?” He smirks at you, a tilt to his lips you found incredibly adorable. 

“Yes.” You said simply with a shrug, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Can I take this off?” His hands toy with the dress you wore. It wasn't a big puffy dress like you would wear on a normal day. It was flat and required no corset, no zipper. It simply slipped off. A surge of confidence rushed through you and you figured you'd take hold of it before it washed away. 

You pushed Yeonjun back against the plush couch. His back connected with the cushion behind him. His face lit up with an adorable surprise. “What are you-” 

“Shh” You smiled playfully. You rose from your seat now standing directly in front of him. You reached your hands to your sleeves pulling them down slowly. 

Yeonjun smiled, resting his hands behind his head before sending you a mock bow of approval. “Suit yourself, your highness.” 

“Shut up.” You giggle shyly pulling the rest of the dress down until the fabric meets the floor in a pile. 

“Absolutely beautiful.” He said with an unashamed look in his eye. You stood bare in front of him now, only panties and nothing else. No bra to hold in your breasts. You had never been so exposed. You reached down, riding yourself of the last of your clothing. 

You had never been naked in front of a man before. Oddly you weren't nervous with Yeonjun, you felt content, you felt reassured. 

“Come here.” Yeonjun’s voice was rough and almost hoarse, it was incredibly sexy. 

You sat before him, completely naked but full trusting. “I’m going to prep you first okay Princess?” 

You nodded dumbly as he carefully laid you down on the sofa falling to his knees in front of you. “Tell me if you want to stop at any point and I will. Am I clear?” You nodded again, finding it hard to muster up words when he was looking at you like that. 

“Use your words sweetheart.” 

“Yes.” The one word like a green light to Yeonjun. His mouth falling to be level with your core. You watched with keen fascination as his breath fanned the most intimate part of you. His tongue licked up one strip causing a gasp to leave your lips. Your hips lifting from the couch in surprise. His growl of disapproval sent shivers down your spine as his hands firmly pressed your hips back down onto the couch. 

His mouth reattached to your slit lapping and licking at the sensitive bud. “Oh-” You whined your mouth involuntarily curling into an ‘O’ shape. 

His eyes searched for yours wildly, a desire for approval in his gaze. “How’s that feel?” He asked coming up for a breath. 

“G-good.” You stuttered out. “More..” 

“Greedy are we Princess?” he quirked a thick brow at you. 

“Mhm..” You moaned unashamed of your clear desperation. His hand lifted ghosting over your entrance, his tongue back to lapping up your juices. 

“Have you ever touched yourself?” 

“W-what?” Your mind was in a daze as his thumb lazily circled your clit, his tongue still ghosting over your entrance. 

“Has this little princess ever touched herself?” His voice was rougher now, more demanding. 

“Y-yes.” You admitted shyly. “Sometimes” 

Yeonjun tsk’d slowly adding a finger into your awaiting entrance, taking it slower so as to not hurt you. 

“My god.” You whispered. 

“Dirty girl..” Yeonjun trailed off, reaching his free hand up to grab onto yours that was clutching the cushion of the couch in your hand. 

“More..” You whined, grinding yourself against Yeonjun’s hand, a desperate moan leaving your lips. 

“I think you're ready.” He pulled his finger out with ease. A hiss of pleasure leaving your lips. 

“Are you ready sweetheart?” His words were gentle as he quickly removed his pants and boxers. The sheer size of him catching you off guard and rendering you near speechless. 

“Words, princess.” His tone held authority, something that had your mind abuzz and your skin ablaze. 

“I’m ready” You panted. Yeonjun carefully crawled over you taking a second to look down at your body, his eyes traveling the expanse of you. “Beautiful.” He said for what seemed like the millionth time tonight. 

He lined his cock at your entrance running the angry red tip up and down your slit a few times, catching the pool of heat in its wake. “I’ll go slow.” 

You nodded desperately waiting for when he would finally be inside of you. 

He pushed in slowly the stretch of him burning like wildfire in your body, a jolt of pain flying up your spine. 

Your gasp rang free throughout the cabin. The sound of the fire crackling in the distance serves as a comfort to you. “Are you okay?” Yeonjun asks when he was finally fully seethed inside of you, unmoving. 

“Yes.” You breathed out. “Just hurts a little.” 

“I can wait to move.” He suggested but you shook your head at the need for him to move out weighing the pain. 

“No. Please move.” 

Yeonjun nodded, pulling his hips back from slowly pushing them back in. His breath hitched in his throat a sigh of content following. “Tight.” He grunted out. 

He continued to slowly push in and out of you with tender precision. Soon you found yourself craving more, faster, harder you needed to feel him completely. 

“Faster.” You whined out. “You can go faster.” 

“Yeah?” He hissed out “Whatever your highness wants.” 

A small smile graced your lips at his playful words. His hips pushed into you fasted the sound of your skin slapping ringing in the air around you. 

“Feels so good.” You moaned. Running your hands down your body, your fingers finding your clit, making small slow circles over the nub. 

“I’m almost there.” Yeonjun panted, his breath fanning over your face. 

“Me too” You whined, feeling your orgasm creeping up on you like a freight train. 

Yeonjun continued his brutal speed, your body moving in tandem with his, taking everything he gave you. Your heart pounding in your chest as you teetered on the edge. 

“I’m coming.” You squeaked out as your orgasm hit you. It blinded you, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. Yeonjun followed suit, his hips rutting into you before stilling. 

The both of you stood still, saying nothing only looking at each other. A bubble of a laugh creeping up in your throat and finally leaving your lips in an eruption. 

Yeonjun’s eyes widened as he watched you laugh, him still deep inside of you. 

“What are you laughing at?” He asked with a look of amused bewilderment. 

“I don't know.” You giggled out. “I’m happy.” 

Yeonjun smiled, a small semblance of smile falling from his lips. “Me too.” 

The rain had stopped by the time you stood at the door of his cabin, your cloak pulled tight around your shoulders. The world outside was silent, save for the occasional drip of water from the trees. Yeonjun stood in the doorway, his figure outlined by the soft glow of the firelight behind him. “You shouldn’t come back,” he said, his voice low and conflicted. Even after what you had just done he was still thinking of what could happen and not what was currently happening. 

You turned to face him, your heart heavy but determined. “You can’t tell me what to do.” 

His lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but the weight of the night kept it from reaching his eyes. You had done irreversible things. Things that could quite frankly get him killed.  “I mean it, princess. It’s too dangerous—for both of us.” 

“And yet you kissed me,” you said softly, stepping closer. “You fucked me.” You continued. 

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. “You’re impossible, you know that?” 

“I’ve heard it before.” You smiled with mischief. 

The faintest trace of a smirk crossed his face, but it faded quickly. “If you’re set on defying all reason, at least let me promise you something.” 

Your brows furrowed as you searched his face. “What?” 

“I’ll write to you,” he said, his voice steady. “I don’t know how, but I’ll find a way to get the letters to you. Just… so you know you’re not alone.” 

Your heart clenched at his words, the tenderness in his tone cutting through the sadness that had been building in your chest. “You’d do that?” 

“For you?” He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I would.” 

The weight of his promise settled between you, heavy and fragile all at once. You stepped closer, your hand reaching for his. His fingers closed around yours, calloused but warm, grounding you even as the moment felt like it might slip away. The thought of not knowing when you'll see him next wounded you. “I’ll wait for them,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

His gaze softened, and for a moment, you saw past the walls he had built around himself. “You’d better.” 

You smiled, a small, bittersweet thing, before tilting your head up to him. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before leaning down, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was softer this time, slower, as though he was memorizing the feel of you. You poured everything into that kiss—the unspoken words, the hopes, the promises—and when it ended, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the cool night air.

“Go,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Before I change my mind.” 

You nodded, stepping back reluctantly, your hand slipping from his. As you turned and started down the path, you glanced over your shoulder to find him still standing in the doorway, his silhouette illuminated by the firelight. And though your heart ached, the promise of his letters gave you a small, stubborn flicker of hope. You’d see him again, you'd make sure of it. 

The morning light streamed through the small window of Yeonjun’s cabin, catching motes of dust that swirled lazily in the air. He sat at the rough-hewn table, a piece of parchment spread before him. His fingers tightened around the quill, ink blotching on the page as he wrestled with the words he needed to say. How did he write to a princess? Especially one who he kissed, one he made love to. One that looked at him like he wasn't a broken man, and made impossible promises feel real? 

Yeonjun groaned, running a hand through his unruly hair. He had spent the better part of the morning trying to figure out how he was supposed to get this letter to her without drawing attention. The thought of a royal guard intercepting it. Of the consequences for both of them—kept him frozen in indecision. A sharp knock at the door startled him, and he quickly folded the letter, tucking it under the edge of a book before standing. His hand instinctively went to the knife on his belt as he opened the door. 

There stood Kai, the paperboy, clutching his satchel and beaming up at him with wide, eager eyes. “Kai,” Yeonjun said, exhaling. “What do you want?” 

“Good morning to you too,” Kai said, undeterred. “I’ve been practicing with the stick bow I made, but it’s not the same as the real thing. You’re the best archer in the village—probably in the kingdom! Teach me.” 

“I told you before, I don’t have time for this,” Yeonjun said, stepping back and starting to close the door.

“Wait!” Kai stuck his foot in the doorway. “What if I do something for you? Like chores or hunting or—” 

Yeonjun stopped, the boy’s words sparking an idea. He narrowed his eyes at Kai. “You deliver papers to the castle, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Kai said, straightening proudly. “Every morning. They don’t let me in, though. Just to the servants’ entrance.” 

Yeonjun hesitated, glancing back toward the folded letter. “If I give you something—something important—could you deliver it discreetly to the princess? Without anyone else knowing?”

Kai blinked, his face scrunching in confusion. “The princess? Why would—” 

“Can you do it or not?” Yeonjun interrupted, his tone firm. 

Kai considered him for a moment, then grinned. “I can do it. But you have to promise to teach me archery.” 

“Fine,” Yeonjun said, grabbing the folded letter and handing it to Kai. “This stays in your satchel until you hand it to her.” 

Kai tucked the letter into his bag and gave Yeonjun a cheeky salute. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” Yeonjun watched the boy leave, his heart pounding. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. 

Kai trudged up the winding path to the castle’s servant entrance, whistling a tune as the satchel bumped against his hip. The gray stone walls loomed above him, casting long shadows in the morning sun. Despite his usual bravado, his stomach twisted with nerves. Delivering a letter to the princess was risky business, even for a street-savvy paperboy. When he reached the small, iron-banded door tucked away behind the stables, he knocked twice, then twice more, just like the man had told him. A moment later, the door creaked open, and a woman in a plain gray dress peered out. Her sharp eyes softened when she saw him. 

“You must be Kai,” the nursemaid said, her voice low but kind.

“That’s me,” he said, flashing her a grin. “I’ve got the letter.” 

He pulled it from his satchel, holding it up like it was a royal treasure—which, in a way, it was. The nursemaid took it carefully, glancing over her shoulder before tucking it into the folds of her apron. “You’re certain no one saw you?” 

“Course not,” Kai said, puffing out his chest. “I’m good at being sneaky.”

She smiled faintly. “Thank you. The princess will be grateful.” 

Kai tilted his head, curiosity lighting his face. “Why’s the princess getting letters from a huntsman, anyway?” 

The nursemaid’s expression grew stern. “That’s not for you to wonder. Just keep this quiet, understand?” 

“Understood,” Kai said, holding up his hands. The nursemaid nodded, slipping back inside. The door shut with a soft thud, leaving Kai alone with his thoughts. As he walked back toward the village, he couldn’t help but grin. Whatever was going on between the princess and the huntsman, it was far more exciting than delivering papers. 

The grand hall felt stifling, the air heavy with expectation. You sat at the long, polished table, your parents at either end like sentinels of your fate. The man they had brought to meet you sat across from you, his eyes scanning you like a merchant appraising goods. He was handsome in a sharp, cold way, his words polished but hollow. “This is Lord Kang Taehyun.” your father said, his voice booming with authority. “A man of great standing. He’s traveled far to meet you.” 

You forced a tight smile, your hands twisting in your lap beneath the table. “It’s a pleasure, my lord,” you said, your voice strained. 

Lord Taehyun inclined his head, his smile more a calculated gesture than genuine warmth. “The pleasure is mine, Your Highness. I’ve heard much of your beauty and grace, though I see now that words fail to capture the truth.” The flattery felt like acid on your skin. You glanced at your mother, hoping for some reprieve, but her expression was as composed and unreadable as ever.

“You will have much to discuss,” your father said, his tone dismissive. “Taehyun, perhaps you and the princess might take a walk in the gardens.” 

“No,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Your father’s gaze snapped to you, sharp and unyielding. “What did you say?” His words felt like tiny little prickles in your skin. 

You stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the marble floor. “I said no. I don’t want to walk. I don’t want to… to discuss anything.” This new found confidence surprised not only your father but you as well. The tension in the room thickened, your mother’s eyes narrowing, your father’s face darkening with anger.

“Sit down,” he commanded, his voice low and dangerous. You knew he meant business but something in you wouldn't allow for what was about to take place to happen. You were going to fight like hell. 

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “You can’t make me do this.”

Your father rose to his feet, his hands slamming onto the table. “You will do as you’re told. This is not a request—it is your duty.”

“Duty?” you cried, your voice breaking. “Is that all I am to you? A pawn to be traded away?” The words hung in the air like a slap. Your father’s expression turned thunderous, but your mother spoke first, her voice cold and clipped. “That’s enough.” 

You turned on your heel, tears spilling over as you fled the hall, their voices chasing after you. Your feet carried you through the winding corridors of the castle, past servants who quickly looked away, until you reached the sanctuary of your room. Slamming the door shut, you sank to the floor, sobbing into your hands. It felt as though the walls were closing in, every word your parents had said pressing down on your chest. 

You had only tasted a small ounce of freedom but you would do everything in your power to not lose it. The night you spent with Yeonjun was the best night of your life. For the first time in your life you felt real. You had finally felt like someone, seen you as you and not just a pawn in a nobel game. 

You picked yourself up from the floor as the tears still cascaded down your face. Throwing yourself onto your bed letting your mind think of Yeonjun and Yeonjun only. 

The night was silent when the knock came at your window. You rushed to it, your heart leaping when you saw the familiar figure of your nursemaid, Kora She slipped inside, handing you a folded piece of parchment. “It’s from him,” she whispered, a small smile on her lips. He kept his promise. He wrote to you. Your heart soared a prickling of hope bubbling in your chest. With Yeonjun, the world felt just all the more bearable. This tiny piece of paper was a saving grace in the mess that was your life.

Your hands trembled as you took the letter, the sight of his handwriting calming the storm inside you. Once the nursemaid left, you lit a candle and unfolded the parchment, your eyes drinking in the words. 

“Princess,

I hope this finds you well, though I know life in the castle is anything but kind to you. I don’t know what I can offer with my words, but know that I’m thinking of you. I can’t seem to stop. I spent all day at the woods’ edge, wondering if you’d appear again, though I know it’s foolish.

Stay safe. Write back if you can. Just knowing you’re out there—somewhere—makes the world feel less empty. 

Yeonjun.” 

You clutched the letter to your chest, his words filling the cracks in your heart left by the day’s events. Taking a deep breath, you reached for your quill and parchment sitting on your bed eager to write back. 

“Yeonjun, 

Your letter was exactly what I needed tonight. The world here feels so cold, so confining. But your words... They warmed me. I wish I could tell you how much they mean to me, how much you mean to me. You call yourself foolish for waiting by the woods, but I find myself thinking about you just as often.

There are moments I wish I could escape all of this, if only to spend another night in the rain with you. You make me feel free, even when I’m trapped within these walls. I don’t know how long this will last, or what the future holds, but I promise I’ll keep writing as long as you’ll read my words.

Yours Always”

You folded the letter carefully, sealing it with trembling hands. The nursemaid would come again in the morning to deliver it, but for now, you tucked it under your pillow. As you blew out the candle and lay in the darkness, your thoughts drifted to Yeonjun. His voice, his touch, his promise. It was enough to keep the despair at bay, at least for tonight.

The days that followed were a blur of tension and despair. Your father’s booming voice echoed through the halls, issuing orders to increase security, though you didn’t know why. Guards were stationed at nearly every corridor, their cold eyes watching your every move. Even the gardens, once your brief sanctuary, felt like a cage.  

You suspected it was about control. The more you resisted their plans, the tighter they held the reins. Your father rarely spoke to you directly now, preferring to bark commands to your mother or the staff. Your mother, ever the strategist, would sit by your bedside at night, her hands clasped primly in her lap as she spoke of duty and legacy. Her words slid off you like rain on stone. But even in the midst of their suffocating demands, there was Yeonjun. 

His letters arrived like whispers of freedom, tucked beneath your pillow by your nursemaid each morning. The words were simple, but they carried a warmth that broke through the chill of the castle. You read them over and over, tracing the ink with your fingertips until the parchment softened. 

“Princess,

Every day feels longer than the last without you here. I thought I was a man who had learned to live without hope, but you’ve made me realize how much I’ve missed it. The woods are quiet now, but I hear your laugh in the wind and feel your presence in every shadow.

I don’t know how this will end, but I promise I will keep writing to you, as long as you’ll have me. You’re the first thing in a long time that has felt real.

Yeonjun”

His words were a balm to your raw emotions, and you clung to them like a lifeline. They were your secret rebellion, a quiet refusal to let your parents steal the one thing that gave you solace. You don’t know what you would do moving forward but you knew for certain that the thought of a life without Yeonjun became more and more painful, it was something you wouldn't allow to happen. Even if it killed you. So Each night, by the flickering light of a candle, you wrote back to him. 

“Yeonjun,

Your words are the only thing keeping me sane. I feel trapped here—my parents are relentless, the guards omnipresent. Even my own footsteps feel like they’re being watched. But when I read your letters, it’s like I’m back in the woods with you, standing in the rain. For a moment, I’m free again.

I don’t know how I’ll get through this, but knowing you’re out there, thinking of me... it’s enough to keep going. I hope you’ll write to me as often as you can. Your letters are my escape.

Yours always.”

The exchange continued for days. Each morning brought a new letter, and each night you penned your reply. The routine became your lifeline, a fragile thread tying you to something brighter, something more alive. The grueling dinners with your parents, the endless stream of suitors paraded before you—none of it mattered when you knew a letter was waiting under your pillow. Yeonjun’s words reminded you of what it felt like to be seen, truly seen, and not as a piece on your father’s chessboard. You closed your eyes, letting his words settle into your heart. The stars above seemed brighter somehow, as if he were reaching out to you through them.

Your mother always told you that love was not real. That you could never love someone more than you loved yourself but that was a lie. It makes you sad sometimes. When you thought of your mother. Was she once a girl like yourself staying up until the wee hours of the night daydreaming about the possibility of a real love, had she ever felt it? You weren't sure. 

Your fingers itched to write him back, to tell him how much he meant to you, how his letters were the only thing keeping you from breaking beneath the weight of your parents’ demands. But tonight, there were no words strong enough. Instead, you held his letter close and let the quiet night envelop you. For now, his letters were enough. And soon, you would find a way to see him again. 

The morning sun filtered through the trees as Yeonjun stood by the edge of the clearing, watching Kai fumble with the bowstring. The boy’s arms trembled under the tension, his grip clumsy as he tried to draw back the arrow. "Not like that," Yeonjun said, stepping forward. He placed a steadying hand on Kai’s shoulder and adjusted his stance, forcing the boy to straighten his back. "You’re holding it like it’s going to bite you. Relax." 

Kai exhaled sharply, his face scrunched in concentration. "This is harder than it looks." His blonde hair blowing in the wind that bristled through the clearing they occupied. 

He watched Kai try again. The boy managed to draw the string back this time, though it wobbled precariously before he loosed the arrow. It sailed a pathetic few feet before flying into the dirt. Kai groaned, slumping in frustration. "I’m never going to get this." 

"You will," Yeonjun said, his voice firmer now. "But not if you give up. Again." The boy looked at him, his brown eyes uncertain, but he nodded. He retrieved the arrow and tried again. And again. And again. 

The days that followed were filled with more of the same. Each morning, Kai would show up at Yeonjun’s door with that wide, determined grin, a bow slung over his back and a bundle of arrows that were too big for his quiver. Yeonjun taught him everything—how to adjust his grip, how to judge the wind, how to stay calm and focused even when the target seemed impossible. At first, Kai was frustratingly bad. His arrows veered wildly off course, his fingers blistered from the bowstring, and his skinny frame seemed ill-suited for the demands of archery. But the boy never gave up. Each time Yeonjun corrected him, Kai listened intently, his determination outmatching his skill. 

One morning, as they rested under a tree after hours of practice, Kai finally opened up. Completely unprovoked. There must have been a lot of things weighing on the boy's mind. "My family’s poor," he said, staring down at the bow in his lap. "My father makes paintings to sell, and my mother does her best, but it’s not enough. My older sister works at the tailor’s, and my little sister’s too young to help. I’m supposed to be the big brother of the house now, The one to look to when Father is at work, but..." He trailed off, his voice cracking. Yeonjun didn’t respond right away, letting the boy gather his thoughts.

"I don’t want to feel useless anymore," Kai continued, his voice quiet but steady. "If I can hunt—if I can bring home food or sell furs—maybe things will get better. Maybe my family won’t have to struggle so much." Yeonjun studied the boy for a long moment. He saw the desperation in Kai’s eyes, the same desperation that had once driven him to the woods all those years ago. He understood too well the weight of carrying a family’s survival on your shoulders, the feeling of always falling short.

"You’re not useless," Yeonjun said finally. His voice was quiet, but there was an edge of warmth in it. "You’re trying. That’s more than most people would do." Kai looked up at him, surprised. 

"And you’re getting better," Yeonjun added, his lips quirking into a small, rare smile. "You actually hit the target today. Granted, it was the edge, but it counts." Kai laughed, a sound that was bright and unguarded. For a moment, Yeonjun felt something he hadn’t in years—a faint, flickering sense of hope. He had seen a lot of himself in kai. He too was seventeen trying to make ends meet while also growing and learning. He reminded himself to give the boy some reprieve, he was doing what most people in this village were doing. Trying to make it. 

It was a week later when Yeonjun made the decision. They had finished another grueling day of practice, and Kai was leaning against a tree, his face flushed with exhaustion but glowing with pride. He had hit the bullseye twice that morning, a feat that had him grinning ear to ear. Yeonjun walked over to his small cabin and retrieved the bow that hung on the wall. It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, its gold accents catching the light like fire. He had carved it himself years ago, imbuing every stroke with a sense of purpose and pride. It was his favorite bow, his most prized possession. 

He walked back to Kai, who was packing up his own battered bow. Without a word, Yeonjun held out the golden bow to him. It was a present that he had cherished from his father. He had given it to him early in his life when Yeonjun took interest in archery, and now he was giving it to Kai. 

Kai stared at it, his eyes wide. "Is that...?" 

"It’s yours," Yeonjun said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He knew he was deserving, Kai was going to grow up to be an amazing huntsman, maybe even better then Yeonjun. Yeonjun was sure of it. 

The boy gaped at him, his hands hovering uncertainly over the bow. "But... this is your favorite. I can’t—" 

"You can," Yeonjun interrupted. "And you will. You’ve earned it." 

Kai’s hands trembled as he took the bow, his fingers tracing the smooth curves and intricate carvings. "I don’t know what to say," he whispered. 

"Say you’ll keep practicing," Yeonjun said, his voice softer now. "Say you’ll use it to help your family. That’s all I want." 

Kai nodded, his eyes shimmering with emotion. "I will. I promise." 

“Good.” Yeonjun smiled a hand on the boy's shoulder. “Now head home it's getting late.” 

The castle had become unbearable. Every corridor felt like a gauntlet, every shadow a trap. Guards patrolled relentlessly, their footsteps echoing like a drumbeat of oppression. Your father’s anger was a constant storm, and your mother’s calculated words were no less cutting. Everyday a battle for your freedom. Your father would not budge, his demands becoming more cold and less patient. The looming specter of the marriage broke you. The man they had chosen—a stranger from across the sea—was everything you feared. Another piece in their endless political game. You didn’t want to be a pawn, but they weren’t giving you a choice. That night, as the moon rose high above the castle, you made your decision to see Yeonjun again, no matter the beefy guards.

You slipped into the gown you had worn earlier, pulling your dark cloak tightly around you. With a deep breath, you tiptoed past the guards stationed outside your chamber. The halls seemed endless, the flicker of torches casting long, wavering shadows. Every creak of the floorboards felt deafening, every glance from a passing servant a threat. But somehow, you made it. Past the gates, past the patrols, and into the forest that had become your sanctuary. 

The knock on his door was hesitant at first, your courage wavering as you stood in the cool night air. The woods were quiet, save for the faint rustle of leaves in the wind. You wondered if he would even answer, if he was still awake. But then the door creaked open, and there he was. 

Yeonjun stood in the doorway, his expression shifting from surprise to concern the moment he saw you, calling your name in confusion. You were the last person he expected to see tonight. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat. The weight of the past days pressed down on you, and before you could stop yourself, tears spilled down your cheeks. 

His brows knit together, and he stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in. "What’s wrong?" You stepped inside, the warmth of his cabin wrapping around you like a blanket. It smelled of wood and the faint, earthy scent of leather. He closed the door behind you, his gaze never leaving your face. 

"They’re marrying me off," you finally managed, your voice trembling. "To a man I’ve never met. A man I don’t want." 

Yeonjun’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "When?"

"I don’t know," you whispered, sinking onto the edge of the small cot in the corner. "Soon. My father is furious. My mother says it’s for the good of the kingdom. But I..." You shook your head, burying your face in your hands. The weight of what your parents were doing finally settled in. A moment later, you felt the bed shift as he sat beside you. His presence was solid, grounding, and when his hand hesitantly rested on your back, it was as if a dam broke inside you.

"I can’t do it," you said, your voice muffled. "I can’t live like this. I don’t want to be a pawn in their games. I just... I just want to be free." 

Yeonjun was silent for a long moment, his hand tracing soothing circles on your back. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady. "We’ll figure it out. I don’t know how yet, but we will." 

You looked up at him, your tear-streaked face meeting his determined gaze. "How can you say that? You don’t even know what they’re capable of." 

"I don’t have to know," he said, his tone firm. "I know you. And I know you’re stronger than you think." 

His words were like a spark in the darkness, a flicker of hope that refused to be snuffed out. You searched his face, finding no hesitation, no doubt. Just him—solid, unyielding, and somehow, impossibly, yours. A beautiful man, who had cared for you. Who has seen more of you than anyone before. A man you were falling for, and hard. Before you could think better of it, you leaned forward, your hands gripping the front of his shirt. His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. 

"Tell me you mean it," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me this isn’t just a dream." You didn’t care if you sounded silly and childish. This was the equivalent to whispering pinch me i’m dreaming but it didn't matter, you needed to hear it. 

His hands came up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that clung to your skin. "It’s real," he murmured. "I promise you, it’s real." And then his lips were on yours. 

His hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer as your fingers tangled in his hair. The world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours. The kiss was sweet but heated like you were catching up on lost time. You had missed his touch only feeling the ghost of him in his letters. 

His arms tightened around you, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, a language only the two of you could understand. "You should go back," he said eventually, though his arms didn’t loosen their hold.

"I don’t want to," you whispered. 

His lips brushed your temple in the lightest of touches. "I’ll find a way to see you again. I promise."

And somehow, you believed him. There was no way you’d be marrying a man you didn't love, not a single chance. 

The castle was quiet when you slipped back through the hidden servant’s entrance. Your heart pounded with every step, the weight of the evening still clinging to you like a second skin. The cool stone walls of the passage pressed in, amplifying the sound of your footsteps.When you turned the corner into your room, your nursemaid, Kora, was waiting. Her arms were crossed, and her lips were set in a thin line, but her eyes betrayed her worry more than her anger ever could. 

"You’re lucky the patrols didn’t catch you," she said, her voice low but sharp. You had seen her angry before and this was not one of those times, she looked more worried than anything and strangely it made you feel warm. 

You closed the door softly behind you and let out a shaky breath. "I needed to go."

Her expression softened at the sound of your voice, her stern demeanor melting into concern. "Child, what are you doing to yourself?" You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you pulled off your cloak and sank onto the edge of your bed, your fingers clutching the fabric tightly. The weight of her gaze made it impossible to avoid the question, so you finally looked up. 

"I love him," you admitted, the words trembling as they left your lips.

Your nursemaid’s eyes widened slightly, and she let out a soft sigh as she sat beside you. She reached for your hand, her grip warm and steady. "You’ve always had such a stubborn heart," she said, a faint smile playing at her lips. 

"I can’t help it," you said, your voice breaking. "I don’t want this life anymore. I don’t want the titles, the suitors, the ballrooms. I just want... I just want to be free. With him." Tears welled in your eyes again, and before you could stop yourself, they spilled over. "I can’t do this, not without him. I want to run away, leave it all behind."

Your nursemaid pulled you into her arms, holding you close as your tears soaked into her shoulder. She smelled of lavender and the faint, comforting scent of home. "I understand," she murmured, her voice gentle. "But you must be careful, my love. The world isn’t kind to people like us who dream beyond our station." You had never really felt a mother’s love before, not in the way you had longed for. The closest you ever gotten was with Kora. Not only was she your nursemaid but your mother figure. She was nurturing, caring, compassionate like a mother should be. But she was also stern and would tell you exactly what you needed to hear, even if you didn't want to hear it. You had loved her like a mother. 

You pulled back slightly, your face still damp with tears. "You’ve always been there for me," you said, your voice trembling. "When my own mother didn’t care—when she looked at me like I was just another duty to fulfill—you loved me. You raised me. You’ve been the only real mother I’ve ever known." 

Her own eyes glistened now, and she cupped your face in her hands. "You’ve been my joy since the day you were born. I wanted to shield you from all of this. If I could give you the freedom you want, I would. You deserve to be happy, my dear. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you." The words had felt like another crack in the crippling foundation of your heart. Soon you would overflow then explode with the constant raging emotions inside of you and you were sure when that happened Kora would be right there, helping you every step of the way no matter what decision you decided to make. Admitting to her out loud that you had loved Yeonjun changed something inside of you. 

"I don’t know what I’d do without you," you said, your voice cracking. 

She kissed your forehead, her touch light and filled with affection. "You’ll always have me. But promise me you’ll be careful. If you love him as much as you say, don’t let that love make you reckless. It’s a dangerous world, and I won’t see you hurt."

You nodded, a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face. "I promise." 

The two of you sat there for a long while, her arms wrapped around you like a shield against the storm outside. For the first time in days, you felt a glimmer of peace. Moments like this had made you mourn a relationship you never had with your own mother. 

"I love you," you whispered. 

"And I love you," she replied, her voice soft and steady. "More than you’ll ever know." 

​​You fell asleep that night with her words echoing in your mind, the warmth of her embrace still lingering into the morning when you awoke again and she was gone, a blanket thrown over your body like a last single trace of her. 

The morning sunlight filtered through the trees as Yeonjun stood in the clearing behind his cabin, his bow slung across his back. Kai was already there, eagerly stringing the bow Yeonjun had given him. His tongue poked out in concentration, and the boy’s scrawny arms strained slightly as he drew it back. "Focus on your breath," Yeonjun instructed, leaning against a tree. "Pull smoothly, don’t yank it. Let the bow do the work."

Kai nodded, exhaling slowly before releasing the arrow. It sailed through the air, wobbling slightly before it struck the edge of the target. Not dead center, but better than it had been just days ago. "Yes!" Kai exclaimed, pumping his fist. 

Yeonjun couldn’t help but smile. "Not bad. You might not be completely hopeless after all." 

Kai grinned, his face lighting up with pride. It was very.. Boyish almost. It reminded Yeonjun so much of who he used to be. He reached for another arrow, his excitement infectious. As he prepared to shoot again, he glanced over at Yeonjun. "You know, my parents were really proud of me last night."

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What’d you do to deserve that?"

"I caught my first rabbit," Kai said, his voice swelling with pride. "With this bow. My parents sold it at the market, and we made enough money to buy bread and meat for the week. My sisters were so happy. My mom even cried." 

Yeonjun’s chest tightened at the boy’s words, a strange mix of pride and longing settling there. "Good work, Kai. You earned that." He had the most perfect prodigy of himself. Someone he knew had the potential to be a great hunter and an even better archer than Yeonjun had ever been. 

Kai beamed, his cheeks flushing slightly. "It’s because you taught me. If it weren’t for you—"

"Stop," Yeonjun interrupted, though his tone was gentle. "You put in the effort. I just showed you how." 

Kai hesitated, then said softly, "I just wanted to say thank you. For the bow, for the lessons... for everything." Looking down at the ground to hide his reddened cheeks, kicking at the dirt beneath his feet almost bashfully. 

Yeonjun looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Don’t get all sentimental on me. You’ll ruin my reputation." He said with a laugh. The joke hanging in the air between the two of them. 

Kai laughed, but his expression quickly turned serious. "You’re not as mean as everyone says, you know. You’re actually... really kind."

Yeonjun snorted. "Don’t spread that around. I’ve worked hard to keep people away, and I’d rather not ruin a good thing."

"But why?" Kai asked, tilting his head. "You’re not scary. You’re..." He trailed off, searching for the right words. 

"Cursed?" Yeonjun offered dryly.

Kai shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Maybe." Yeonjun smiled at his Joke, something he found himself doing a lot more lately. 

His turned serious sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. "You remind me of myself when I was your age. Scrawny, stubborn, trying too hard to prove something to the world." 

Kai titled his head “That wasn't too long ago, you're not that much older than me you know?” 

“Yeah, I know.” Yeonjun sighed out, “You Still remind me of my younger self. I’m a lot more grown up than my age suggests. I’ve had to grow up early.” 

Kai’s eyes widened. "Really?" His innocence warmed Yeonjun’s heart. 

"Yeah," Yeonjun said, a distant look in his eyes. "Only difference is, you’ve got a family who loves you. Don’t take that for granted, Kai. Not everyone’s that lucky."

Kai frowned, sensing the weight behind Yeonjun’s words. "What about your family?"

Yeonjun hesitated, then shook his head. "Not something you need to worry about, kid. Let’s just say... it didn’t turn out the way I wanted."

“I know they died..” Kai said, surprising Yeonjun. “I’m sorry. I can be your family now.” 

“I appreciate that.” Yeonjun’s voice was low, soft. Like he was savoring the moment but not wanting to look vulnerable. “You’re a good kid, Kai. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise."

Kai nodded slowly, his youthful energy appearing once more. "I won’t let my family down. I’ll keep practicing, and I’ll take care of them." 

Kai grinned, his spirit returning as he straightened his bow. Yeonjun reached into his coat and pulled out a folded letter. "Here," he said, handing it to Kai. "Same deal as last time. Get this to the nursemaid, and make sure it reaches her. No one else." 

Kai took the letter with a solemn nod, tucking it carefully into his satchel. "I won’t mess up. You can count on me."

"I know I can," Yeonjun said softly. "You’re tougher than you look."

Kai flashed a determined smile and slung his bow over his shoulder. As he turned to leave, he paused, glancing back at Yeonjun. "You know," Kai said, his voice tentative, "you’re kind of like the big brother I always wanted." 

Yeonjun froze, the words catching him off guard. He swallowed hard, his voice rough as he replied, "And you’re like the little brother I never asked for." Kai laughed, waving as he disappeared into the woods. Yeonjun watched him go, a strange warmth settling in his chest. 

The wind howled outside Yeonjun’s cabin, rattling the wooden shutters as he sat at his small, worn table. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. He ran his fingers over the letter he’d received from Kai earlier, the princess’s words already memorized but still giving him solace. He was about to turn in for the night when a sharp knock echoed through the cabin. Yeonjun frowned. Kai was long gone, and he wasn’t expecting anyone else. 

He opened the door cautiously, but no one was there. Instead, an envelope lay on the ground, the seal glinting faintly in the moonlight. Yeonjun bent down to pick it up, his pulse quickening.

He stepped back inside, closing the door behind him as he examined the envelope. The weight of it felt different from her usual letters. The paper was finer, the edges gilded with gold. For a moment, he thought Kai had brought it late, maybe as part of some grand gesture. But when he broke the seal and unfolded the paper, his stomach dropped. it wasn’t her handwriting. The words danced mockingly across the page, each one sinking like a stone in his chest. 

“You are cordially invited to a masquerade ball at the royal palace to celebrate the forthcoming marriage of  The Princess to Lord Kang Taehyun.” 

His grip on the paper tightened, the edges crumpling beneath his fingers. He read it again, hoping he’d misunderstood, but the meaning was clear. 

Her marriage announcement. 

The room felt suddenly stifling, the walls closing in as his heart pounded against his ribs. He stared at the invitation, anger and confusion warring within him. She hadn’t mentioned this in her letters. Not once. He knew they were trying to force her into a marriage but not that they were going through with one. 

"Why didn’t she tell me?" he muttered to himself, his voice harsh in the quiet cabin. 

Yeonjun paced the room, the invitation clutched tightly in his hand. Every instinct screamed at him to stay away, to keep his head down and let this royal mess unfold without him. But the thought of her standing in that grand ballroom, her eyes filled with sorrow, surrounded by strangers, was unbearable. He sank into his chair, his head in his hands. The memory of her tear-streaked face from the night she’d come to his door haunted him. The way she’d clung to him, her voice trembling as she confessed her fears. 

"I have to see her," he said aloud, the resolve hardening in his chest. His eyes fell back to the invitation. A masquerade. If there was ever a way for him to slip into the palace unnoticed, this was it. 

But what then? What could he possibly say or do to change the course of her life? With a heavy sigh, Yeonjun placed the crumpled invitation on the table and leaned back in his chair. The fire crackled softly, the warmth doing little to ease the chill that had settled in his chest. Tomorrow, he would decide what to do. But tonight, he let the weight of the truth settle over him, the words on the page a stark reminder of just how precarious their love truly was. 

The night of the ball had finally arrived. Yeonjun sat in the quiet of his cabin, the fire in the hearth reduced to glowing embers. His packed bundle rested on the table ​. Everything felt heavier tonight—the air, his thoughts, the weight of what he was about to do. He’d spent the day going over his plan, but now, as the moment drew closer, his mind turned to the boy who’d become a surprising presence in his life: Kai. He’d spent the day going over his plan, trying to get his affairs in order. Earlier, he’d gone to look for Kai. The boy was usually eager, always hovering around his cabin or running errands in the village. But today, Yeonjun had called for him several times, even gone to the square to see if he was there, but there’d been no sign of him. 

“Probably busy with his family,” Yeonjun muttered to himself, trying to shake off the unease that crept in. He thought of Kai’s bright grin the last time they’d spoken, the pride in his voice as he told Yeonjun about finally catching his first game. The memory pulled at his heart. He’d wanted to talk to the boy, to tell him everything, to hand over the cabin, the bow, and all the tools of his trade. But with no time to waste and no sign of Kai, Yeonjun had to make peace with leaving it all behind without explanation. 

"I’ll leave it all to him," Yeonjun murmured, his voice barely audible over the crackling fire. "The cabin, the bow, everything." It wasn’t much, but it was all he had. And Kai deserved a chance—a real chance—to make something of himself. He thought back to the day he’d handed Kai the golden bow, the way the boy’s eyes had widened with reverence. That same boy had caught his first animal just days ago and had been beaming with pride when he told Yeonjun about his family’s gratitude. 

“They’ll need this more than I will,” Yeonjun muttered. “Kai will understand.” He sat at the small table, a scrap of paper and a stub of charcoal in hand. The words didn’t come easily, each one feeling like a goodbye he wasn’t ready to say. But by the time the fire had burned down to its last embers, the note was finished, folded neatly and left on the table. Yeonjun stood, shouldering his pack. His gaze swept the small cabin, taking in the worn wood, the faint scent of smoke, the memories etched into every corner. 

"This is the right thing," he said softly, though the ache in his chest made him doubt. As he stepped outside, the cold night air bit at his skin, and the quiet of the woods enveloped him. He turned once to look back at the cabin, the soft glow from the window casting a faint light into the night. “Kai will be fine,” he whispered, as if convincing himself. “He’s stronger than he thinks.” And with that, Yeonjun made his way toward the palace. The plan was set, and his resolve was firm. Tonight, he would find her, and together they would leave this world behind.

The masquerade ball was in full swing, a sea of gilded masks, shimmering gowns, and laughter that echoed through the grand halls of the castle. Yeonjun, hidden in plain sight among the servants, carried a tray of fine goblets filled with wine. The facade of calm he wore barely concealed the storm brewing inside him. He’d caught sight of her several times already, dressed in a gown of deep emerald green that hugged her frame and glimmered under the chandeliers. The mask she wore couldn’t hide her identity from him, not when her pink hair peeked through in soft waves. But it wasn’t just her beauty that consumed his attention—it was the man beside her. 

Kang Taehyun. 

The one she was supposed to marry. 

Yeonjun clenched his jaw, his grip tightening around the tray. The man was broad-shouldered, and carried himself with an air of entitlement that grated on Yeonjun’s nerves. He stayed close to her, far too close, speaking in a low voice that made her frown, though she masked it quickly for the sake of appearances. It made Yeonjun’s blood boil. 

This was why he was here, why he’d come despite the risks. He couldn’t stand idly by while they paraded her around as if she were a prize to be won. Moving through the crowd, Yeonjun kept his head low, blending in with the other servants. He waited for the right moment—when her parents’ eyes were elsewhere, when the suitor was distracted by a gaggle of nobles seeking his attention. Pathetic. And he thought he was worthy of her? 

When it came, Yeonjun didn’t hesitate. He set his tray down and approached her from the side, careful not to draw attention. As he passed, his fingers brushed hers ever so lightly, and he slipped a small folded note into her hand. She flinched at the touch but quickly covered her reaction, slipping the note into the folds of her gown without looking. Yeonjun didn’t wait for acknowledgment. He melted back into the crowd, his heart pounding.

The note in your hand felt heavier than it should, the words scrawled in familiar handwriting still burning in your mind. "The garden. Now." 

Your heart thudded against your ribs as you scanned the ballroom. The glittering chandeliers and elegant guests seemed to blur together, a hazy backdrop to the storm of emotions churning inside you. You’d recognized him instantly, despite the servant’s uniform and the simple black mask concealing part of his face. Why was he here? What was he thinking? You spotted Taehyun across the room, deep in conversation with your father, his smooth laugh carrying over the hum of the crowd. Your mother stood nearby, her sharp eyes scanning the ball for potential allies, rivals, and threats. The guards stationed at the doors kept their watchful gazes moving, their vigilance a constant reminder of your gilded cage.

Slipping the note into the folds of your gown, you waited for the right moment. When your mother turned to speak with a duchess, and your suitor became engrossed in a conversation about trade routes, you slipped quietly toward the side door leading to the garden. The cool night air hit your skin like a balm, the oppressive heat and noise of the ballroom fading with each step. You moved quickly, your gown brushing against the gravel path as you made your way through the moonlit garden. And then you saw him. 

Yeonjun stood near a stone bench, his figure half-hidden by the shadows of the trees. His head turned at the sound of your approach, and even in the dim light, you saw the tension in his expression melt into something softer. "You’re here," he said, his voice low and rough. 

"You told me to come," you replied, your heart racing. "What are you doing here? If anyone sees us—" 

"I don’t care," he interrupted, stepping toward you, his eyes blazing. "I couldn’t stand watching you with him." 

You froze, his words hitting you like a jolt. "Yeonjun, you can’t just—" You couldn't risk someone seeing you. No matter how badly you just wanted to run into his arms and never let go, this could turn dangerous and fast. 

"I had to," he cut in, his voice fierce. "You’re going to marry him, aren’t you? That’s what this whole masquerade is for. To announce it to the world." 

His words stung because they were true, but you didn’t have a choice. "It’s not what I want," you said quietly, your voice trembling. "But I don’t get to decide." 

"There’s always a choice," he said, his tone sharp, almost desperate. "You don’t have to do this. We can leave tonight—just say the word, and we’ll be gone." You stared at him, the weight of his offer pressing down on you. His intensity, his recklessness—it should have frightened you, but instead, it made you ache. Leaving was all you could ever think about. Leaving the prison you grew up in finally with the man you loved would be everything you had dreamed of. 

"Leave?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. "And go where? They’d find us. They always do." 

"Let them," he said, his voice softening as he stepped closer. "Let them try. I won’t let them take you from me." 

His words broke something inside you, the carefully constructed walls you’d built to endure this life. You looked up at him, tears stinging your eyes. "Yeonjun, this is madness." And it was, but word by word he was convincing you. 

"Maybe it is," he said, his gaze locking with yours. "But I can’t lose you. Not to him. Not to anyone." 

The night seemed to still, the world shrinking until it was just the two of you. Slowly, you reached up and removed your mask, the cool air brushing against your tear-streaked cheeks. "I don’t want to lose you either," you whispered, the truth spilling out before you could stop it. He closed the distance between you in a single step, his hands cradling your face as his lips met yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but it quickly deepened, years of longing and frustration pouring into it. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, and you clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping you upright. 

When you finally broke apart, your forehead rested against his, both of you breathless. His fingers brushed your cheek, his touch achingly gentle. "What do we do now?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and hope. 

“We go.” he said, his voice steady and sure. "Together." 

“Now?” You asked, your voice unsteady and unsure. 

“We have to,” he nodded, his tone urgent, almost frantic. His hand was firm around yours as he began to lead you deeper into the garden, away from the prying eyes of the guards and the glittering lights of the ball. “It’s now or never, Princess.” You hesitated at his words, glancing back toward the castle, its grand silhouette looming like a watchful predator. But the pull of his hand—and the fierce determination in his eyes—spurred you forward. The garden paths twisted and turned, the soft crunch of gravel beneath your hurried steps the only sound in the quiet night. The cool air bit at your cheeks, and your gown tangled around your legs, but you didn’t stop. He didn’t stop. 

“We’ll make it,” Yeonjun muttered, half to himself, half to you. “Once we’re past the outer gates, they won’t be able to follow us. Not tonight.” Your heart thundered in your chest, not just from the exertion but from the enormity of what you were doing. Running. Escaping. Leaving everything behind. Ahead, the garden’s stone archway came into view, the dense forest beyond it a promise of freedom. But as you reached it, something sharp and cold slithered down your spine—a sense of foreboding you couldn’t shake. 

“Yeonjun, wait,” you whispered, pulling on his hand. 

“What is it?” he asked, glancing back at you, his brow furrowed. 

Before you could answer, there was a faint rustling behind you. Then, a muffled cry—a sound so brief and so quiet you weren’t sure you’d heard it at all. 

A hand wrapped around your mouth muffled your screams of protest, throwing you backwards and away from the view of Yeonjun. The last thing before going dark was Yeonjun’s slumped body against the wall and the face of your father looming over the balcony…grinning. 

Yeonjun’s eyes fluttered open, and the world around him spun in dizzying circles. The pounding in his head was the first thing he felt—a sharp, blinding pain that seemed to come from deep within his skull. He was lying on cold stone, his body twisted in uncomfortable angles, the rough texture of the floor scraping against his skin. His wrists were shackled behind him, and he could feel the weight of the iron biting into his flesh, a constant reminder of his captivity. The air was damp, heavy with the smell of mildew, and the faint dripping of water echoed in the darkness.

"Awake at last," a gruff voice sneered from somewhere above him.

Yeonjun tried to lift his head, but the effort sent another wave of pain through his skull, making his vision blur. He blinked, trying to focus, and found himself staring up at two guards, their faces shadowed by the dim light of a single torch mounted on the stone wall. "Where am I?" he rasped, his throat dry and cracked. 

"The king’s dungeon," one of the guards answered, stepping forward with an air of superiority. "You should feel honored. Not many get to see it." Yeonjun tried to push himself up, but a sharp kick to his ribs sent him crashing back to the floor. He gasped, struggling to catch his breath as the pain radiated through his body. His fingers curled around the cold stone beneath him, grounding himself as he tried to regain control. 

“Why were you sneaking around with the princess?” the second guard asked, his voice low and threatening. “What were you planning?” 

Yeonjun didn’t answer. His lips were sealed, his mind racing. He wasn’t going to give them anything. The first guard knelt down, bringing his face close to Yeonjun’s. “Don’t play dumb with us,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “We know about the little messages you sent. Through that boy.” 

Yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat. His mind raced. Kai. They had taken him. His body ran cold, a shiver shooting up his spine. “What did you do to him?” Yeonjun demanded, his voice hoarse but filled with venom.

The first guard chuckled darkly, pulling something from behind his back and tossing it onto the floor in front of Yeonjun. It clattered against the stone with a sickening sound, and Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat when he saw it.

A bloodstained arrow. 

The arrow that had once been his, now soaked in the blood of the one person who had truly believed in him. A boy, not much younger than him but so full of life. Only wishing to make his family proud. Dead..because of him. 

"Recognize this?" the guard taunted, his grin widening. “Your little messenger screamed your name the whole time. Begged us to let him go. Begged for you to save him.” 

Yeonjun’s breath caught in his throat, his vision swimming as the truth hit him like a blow to the gut. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. No. no. no. Kai. 

“No,” he whispered, the words barely escaping his lips. Almost like a plea to any god that would hear him. Any god with mercy. 

“Oh, yes,” the second guard said, leaning in with a malicious smile. “And the old woman? The nursemaid? She put up quite the fight. But don’t worry. She didn’t last long either.” The words sliced through Yeonjun like a blade, and for a moment, everything in him went cold. 

"You bastards!" he shouted, his voice breaking with fury as he surged forward, only to be stopped by the chains holding him in place. He rattled them with all his strength, the metal digging into his wrists, but he couldn’t escape. The guards laughed at his struggles, their cruel amusement echoing off the stone walls of the dungeon. 

“You brought this on yourself,” one of them said, standing to leave. “All of this—on you. On them.” The sound of their boots faded as they retreated down the hallway, their laughter still ringing in his ears. Yeonjun was left in the suffocating silence of the dungeon, his heart heavy with grief and guilt. His body trembled as he slowly sank back onto the cold floor, the bloody arrow still lying in front of him—a symbol of everything he had lost.

Kai. Kai was dead. They had taken him, tortured him, dumped him god knows where. His family, oh god his family. Yeonjun couldn't take it. The curse, he knew it was real and for the first time since the death of his family he had felt it tenfold, piercing him like his very own arrows. They were the archer and himself the prey, left in agony to be eaten by the wolves of the kingdom. How dare they?

Kai was innocent. He was pure. He was good. All things Yeonjun was not. And Kora, Kora had only had nothing but love for the princess. She nurtured her and raised her. She did more than the queen could ever do, gone. Because of him. He closed his eyes, the weight of it all crashing down on him. His chest ached with the unbearable loss, and for the first time in years, tears welled up in his eyes. But there was no one left to comfort him. 

A sharp kick to Yeonjun’s stomach jolted him awake, the breath ripped from his lungs as pain shot through his body. He doubled over instinctively, coughing and gasping for air, but the guards were relentless. Rough hands grabbed him by the arms, dragging him to his feet. His legs felt weak beneath him, his head pounding from the lingering ache of his earlier beating.“Get moving,” one of the guards barked, shoving him forward. 

Yeonjun stumbled, the chains on his wrists clinking with every step as they led him out of the dim dungeon. The harsh light of the corridor burned his eyes, but he kept his head down, biting back the groan of pain that threatened to escape. As they marched him up a winding staircase, the familiar sounds of the grand hall grew louder—the murmurs of people, the echo of heavy boots on marble, the crackling of torches. Yeonjun’s heart sank. He didn’t have to guess where they were taking him.When they shoved him into the throne room, the sight that met him was worse than anything he could have imagined. 

The king sat on his golden throne, his expression smug and triumphant. The queen was beside him, her cold gaze fixed on Yeonjun as if he were nothing more than filth beneath her feet. And there, standing just to the side, was the princess. Her face was pale, her eyes red and swollen as though she’d been crying for hours. The moment she saw him, her hands flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp. 

“Ah, the infamous hunter,” The king said, his booming voice dripping with mockery. “I must say, I didn’t expect such a... lowly creature to have the nerve to court my daughter.” Yeonjun said nothing, his jaw tightening as he stared at the marble floor. 

The king rose from his throne, descending the steps slowly, savoring every moment of Yeonjun’s humiliation. “What? Nothing to say? No impassioned defense of your love? No heroic declaration of your intentions?” Still, Yeonjun remained silent. 

The king laughed, a cold and hollow sound that echoed through the chamber. “You see, princess?” he said, turning to his daughter. “This is the man you chose. A coward who can’t even speak for himself.” 

“Stop this!” the princess cried, stepping forward. Tears streamed down her face, her voice cracking as she pleaded. “Please, father, stop this! He hasn’t done anything wrong!”

“Silence!” the queen snapped, her tone sharp and unforgiving. “You will not disgrace this family further by defending him.” 

“But-” 

“I said, silence!” The king roared, and the princess flinched, her shoulders trembling as she bit back a sob. 

The king turned back to Yeonjun, his smirk returning. “Your little messenger is dead, you know,” he said, his tone almost casual. “And the nursemaid. Both gone, thanks to you. All because you thought you could play hero.”

Yeonjun’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing with fury. His heart twisting in his chest. 

The king gestured to one of the guards, who held up the bloodstained arrow as a grim trophy. “The boy cried for you, you know. Right up until the end.” Yeonjun’s chest heaved, rage and sorrow clawing at his insides, but he refused to give them the satisfaction of a response.

The king’s smirk deepened. “No clever retort? No fiery protest? Very well.” He raised his voice, addressing the room. “Choi Yeonjun, the hunter, is hereby sentenced to death for his treasonous actions and his insolence against the crown.” 

“No!” The princess’s scream pierced the air, raw and desperate. She ran forward, throwing herself in front of Yeonjun. “You can’t do this! Please, father, I beg you!”

The queen rose from her throne, her expression cold. “Move aside, child. This is what must be done.” 

“No! I won’t let you!” She turned to Yeonjun, her tear-filled eyes locking onto his. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “This is all my fault.” 

“Enough!” The king’s voice boomed, and the guards seized the princess, pulling her away from Yeonjun. She struggled against them, her sobs echoing through the hall as they dragged her back toward the throne.

Yeonjun stood tall, his eyes meeting the king’s without a trace of fear. If this was how it ended, so be it. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing him break. But as the princess’s cries filled the room, a new thought burned in his mind. The memory of Kai, bright eyed and cheery. And everything he had taken from the both of them. She was apologizing but she was not the one at fault. He was. 

Yeonjun sat slumped against the cold stone wall of his cell, his wrists raw from the iron chains and his body aching from days of neglect and torment. His head hung low, the heavy silence of the dungeon pressing against him like a weight. Every sound—the drip of water, the faint scuttle of a rat—seemed magnified in the stillness. Sleep had come and gone in fleeting, restless bouts, and this time was no different. A muffled commotion echoed from somewhere outside the cell. At first, he thought it was another cruel trick of his mind, the dungeon’s oppressive quiet playing games with his senses. 

But then, there was a distinct clatter—a guard’s voice shouting, followed by a heavy thud. His eyes blinked open, groggy and unfocused. He straightened as best he could, his pulse quickening. Footsteps. He squinted into the darkness, barely registering the soft sound of keys jangling. The door creaked open, and a figure slipped inside, cloaked in the faint torchlight spilling from the corridor. 

“Yeonjun.” a hushed, urgent voice whispered. 

His breath caught. It was her. 

“Princess?” he rasped, his voice hoarse and cracked from disuse.

She was at his side in an instant, her hands trembling as they fumbled with the lock on his chains. Her face, framed by the faint flicker of the torchlight, was a mix of desperation and determination. “What are you—how—” he began, but she silenced him with a sharp look. 

“No time for questions,” she said, her voice low but steady. “We need to get out of here. Now.” 

The chains around his wrists fell away with a loud clink, and she moved to the shackles on his ankles. “How did you even get down here?” he asked, still stunned as he rubbed at his sore wrists. 

She glanced up at him, a faint smirk tugging at her lips despite the dire circumstances. “My nursemaid taught me more than just calligraphy and how to curtsy,” she said, her tone almost teasing. “Turns out, lock-picking and sneaking around are also valuable skills for a proper princess.” 

Yeonjun blinked at her, equal parts impressed and incredulous. “Remind me to thank her—oh, wait.”

The smirk faltered, her eyes darkening with pain. “She taught me everything I needed to survive. And now we’re going to survive this. Together.” 

The last shackle came loose, and Yeonjun rose to his feet, his legs shaky but functional. She handed him a small dagger she’d tucked into her belt. “Where did you even get this?” he asked, gripping it as though it were the most precious thing in the world. 

“Confiscated it off a guard,” she said matter-of-factly, peering into the hallway. “You’re not the only one who knows how to fight, you know.” 

He couldn’t help the faint smile that crossed his lips. “Remind me never to underestimate you again.”

“You’d better not,” she shot back, her gaze darting around the corridor. “Now, let’s go before anyone notices.” The two of them crept through the winding passages of the dungeon, their movements swift but careful. The princess led the way, her steps light and purposeful, and Yeonjun followed close behind, his heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and disbelief. Every shadow felt like a potential threat, every distant sound a prelude to discovery. But somehow, they moved unnoticed, slipping past guards and evading detection at every turn. 

As they ascended a final set of stairs, the faint light of the moon filtered through a nearby window, illuminating their path. Yeonjun paused for a moment, glancing at the princess. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with curiosity. “You could’ve stayed safe, let them—” 

“Let them kill you?” she interrupted, her tone sharp. She turned to face him fully, her eyes blazing with emotion. “Do you think I could’ve lived with myself, knowing I left you here to die? After everything—after Kai, after Kora?” He opened his mouth to respond, but she shook her head. “You don’t get to question this. I made my choice. And I choose you.” Her words rendered him momentarily speechless, and all he could do was nod, his throat tight with unspoken emotion. 

“Now come on,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him forward. “We’re almost free.” The night air hit them like a cool balm as they slipped out through a side gate. The castle loomed behind them, a monolith of power and oppression, but they didn’t look back. They ran, side by side, into the darkness. 

The forest was eerily quiet as they approached the cabin, their breaths clouding in the cool night air. Yeonjun slowed as the familiar structure came into view, his steps growing heavier with every inch closer. The small home that had once been his sanctuary now felt hollow, haunted by what had been lost. The princess stayed close, her gaze shifting between him and the cabin, sensing the weight he carried. 

Inside, the room was as he had left it—simple and sparse, with few possessions to speak of. Yeonjun moved with purpose, pulling the golden bow from where it hung on the wall. He ran his fingers over its polished surface, the faint grooves where his hands had gripped it countless times. It had been his most prized possession, a symbol of his skill and survival. Now, it felt like a monument to the boy he’d lost.

“We’ll bury it here,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with grief. “It belongs with him.” 

The princess nodded, her throat tight with emotion. “I’ll help.” 

They stepped outside into the moonlit clearing, the ground soft from the recent rains. Yeonjun worked in silence, digging a small grave beneath the large oak tree at the edge of the clearing. The princess stayed by his side, her hands brushing against his to offer support when she could. When the hole was deep enough, Yeonjun carefully laid the bow inside, his movements deliberate and reverent. He placed a folded letter atop it—a message he had written to Kai’s family, explaining everything. His voice broke as he murmured, “I’m sorry. You deserved so much better.” 

The princess touched his arm, her fingers light but grounding. “He knew you cared for him. You gave him hope.” 

Yeonjun swallowed hard, nodding as he covered the bow and letter with soil, patting the earth down until the grave was complete. The princess knelt beside him, placing a small wildflower she had plucked from the forest nearby atop the fresh dirt. Together, they bowed their heads in silence, a quiet tribute to a boy whose life had been far too brief. 

Inside the cabin, Yeonjun sat at the worn table, scribbling out one final letter. His handwriting was rough, but the words were heartfelt.

“To the family of HueningKai,

I write this with a heavy heart. Your son was brave, determined, and far too kind for this world. He reminded me of the best parts of myself, and I hope you know he made a difference, even in the short time he was with us.

I leave everything I own to you: my cabin, my tools, and whatever small coin I’ve managed to earn. May it ease your burdens and honor the boy who fought so hard for his family.

Kai deserved better, and I will carry his memory with me for the rest of my days. 

Yeonjun.” 

He sealed the letter, pressing his thumb to it as though it were a seal, and placed it on the table where the family could find it. The princess stood nearby, her eyes glassy as she watched him. “You’re doing the right thing.” 

He glanced at her, his expression unreadable but softening. “I hope so.” 

With that, they gathered the few supplies they needed—food, water, and some tools for their journey. Yeonjun paused in the doorway, casting one last look around the cabin that had been his home for so many years. “This place was never really mine,” he said, his voice low. “It was always meant for someone else.” 

She slipped her hand into his, squeezing it gently. “Then let’s find something that is ours.” 

They stepped out into the night, the forest stretching out before them, vast and unknowable. The princess glanced back once, her heart heavy with the weight of what they left behind, but she didn’t falter. They walked hand in hand, leaving the cabin—and their old lives—behind. Together, they vanished into the horizon, bound by love, loss, and the hope of something better.

taglist. @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @filmnings , @dawngyu , @hyukascampfire , @saejinniestar

[torawro]

LIKE SPECKS OF SUNLIGHT IN THE EARLY MORN. ( p. a.)

portgas d. ace & marine!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, ageless and blank blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is written / portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine it as such! everyone is welcome to read <3 reader wears glasses, and is a marine stationed on an unnamed island at a base along the grand line. ‘lazy morning’ / ‘morning after’ kind of vibes so, a bit of pillow talk (?) . references to smut & making love (it already happened). contains some angst & angsty themes throughout (i.e., ace dealing with his self esteem issues, low self worth, etc..) otherwise it’s supposed to be fluffy ( the quiet, somber kind i think ) ! descriptions of kissing & borderline making out. ace is kind of lovesick and clingy but it’s subtle-ish. lots of introspection and reflection on both him and the reader’s part. kind of based on mitski's "my love, mine all mine", definitely had that song on repeat as i wrote this. romantic and deeply poetic rhetoric but y’all already know that’s just how i write lol. told from omniscient point of view (third person). proofread this as i was feeling sleepy, so please excuse any mistakes or things that don’t make sense!

word count ━━ ! 3.9k

notes ━━ ! guess who's baaaaack.....! i know it's been a while since i have published any original work and i want to apologize for that. lately it's been difficult finding the energy to write something for more than five minutes and honestly, i think i just need to rediscover what drives me so i can tap into the zone more often. i missed it though, and hope i get to write more this year <3 anyway, first fic of 2025 and it feels right to make it about second commander of the whitebeard pirates, portgas d. ace. this fic is my late birthday 'gift' to him and something of a love letter because ohhhhh i miss my pookie bear so much :(( this entire idea started as just me thinking about kissing each of his freckles because i have the personal hc that he doesn't really like them, the reason for it is inherently tied to his distaste for his father and by extension himself :/ and then it just turned into this lmao. i hope ace doesn't behave too out of character here, as this is also my first time writing for him in any context, so pls be gentle with me. REBLOBS + COMMENTARY ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED.

IT WAS NOT THE LIGHT chirping of small birds that awoke you, nor was it the ringing of your biological clock telling you that the dawn was near. Instead it was a familiar tugging sensation within the pit of your stomach— the need to relieve yourself— that caused your eyes to peel themselves back slowly and with struggle, slumber from the previous night hasn’t been completely washed away yet.

It took your brain several more moments to dust off enough of its sleepy exhaustion before you attempted to sit up from your comfortable position in bed, but were immediately met with some light resistance.

The resistance in question was a long, muscled arm thrown around your soft torso, blackened ink of a tattoo staining the skin on its bicep. It was still too dark and you were still too tired to make out the sharp angles of the marking, but you knew what they were; your eyes have gazed upon it more times than you could count, and it has made a home in your memory.

That’s when your ears registered the rhythmic and almost nasal snores that flowed from the mouth of the man who held you so securely against his chest, and you almost smiled at how completely at ease and relaxed he seemed. 

At times like this, when things were still or you had a moment to yourself, you still could not wrap your head around the fact that you had gotten yourself involved with Portgas D. Ace— willingly at that. 

The first time was a fluke at best. That’s the excuse you were going to go with. You didn’t realize he was a pirate— an infamous pirate with hundreds of millions of Beri to his name— until your clothes were already halfway off and you were feverishly grinding down onto his lap like some touch-starved whore who’s been aching to feel something. That ‘fluke’ was one spurred on by alcohol, a particularly rough week at sea, and a sizable lapse in judgment, but you hadn’t felt that…… alive in a long time. But now, two years have passed since you have been seeing Ace in secret like this, and you have long since given up blaming it on a fragile emotional constitution further weakened by alcohol. You knew good and well what you were doing, and you could no longer deny the way your heart was constantly set aflutter whenever you spent any amount of time with him.

You did try your hardest to not let yourself enjoy how … domestic it all seemed: waking up next to him in the morning and falling asleep entangled with each other at night, having him hide out at your cozy apartment for days at a time, cooking him meals when you were relieved of your duties for the day. You wouldn’t— shouldn’t let yourself enjoy such content thoughts too much, because you also knew it could all be over in the blink of an eye. The world could be cruel that way if it wanted to.

But still, that didn’t mean you couldn’t be grateful for these moments. From what you could tell, Ace seemed to enjoy this arrangement as much as you did. And for now, that was enough.

Lightly wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you carefully lifted his arm from around you, moving slow so you wouldn’t wake him up. Once you’ve successfully loosened his hold, you sat upright, a muted ache shooting through your lower body as you shifted around to stand. The ache mostly resided in between your legs, and a flood of memories from just hours ago rushed over you at once, causing a tingling warmth to bloom underneath your skin. Ace had poured so much into you, it never failed to leave you equal parts stunned and breathless when you witnessed his passion overflow from the brim of his being. His hands, calloused palms that always ran hot, had been everywhere— your body could still feel the heat of where they had laid, caressed, groped, smacked, and squeezed. And you involuntarily jolted as you recalled where his fingers and lips had been, how it felt to be pressed so closely against him as he simultaneously took you apart. 

After another moment of being lost in your own reverie, you pulled yourself out of it and filed those memories away in a separate corner of your mind, so that you may more fully indulge in them later. As you carefully removed the blankets and climbed over the sleeping pirate, one bare foot had hardly hit the cool wooden floor before a hand wrapped itself around your wrist. 

A quiet grumbling noise vibrated from behind Ace’s lips, his eyes remained closed as he spoke, indicative that he was barely awake. “Wh…where y’goin’....?” His words were slurred and thick with sleep, his deep voice reaching the depths of your being to spark something to life in the pit of your belly. But you promptly ignored it for now. 

“To the bathroom, I gotta pee.”

He replied with another mumbling sort of noise, presumably one of acknowledgment or begrudging acquiescence— you couldn’t be sure. “M’kay, just . . . hurry back t’bed, will ya? M’cold.” 

You found amusement in the inherent irony of his claim that he was ‘cold’  when he always ran a little warmer than most— not to mention his devil fruit powers— but also in the fact that despite his urging you to take care of your business swiftly, he hasn't released his hold on your wrist yet. In fact, he tugged you a little closer to him, as if he was trying to pull you back into bed. 

A small smile began to curl at the corners of your lips as you moved to manually pry his fingers from your arm so you can make your way out of the bedroom and down the hall.

For the next several minutes, Ace was left alone. 

He stirred in his partially-awake state as he made himself comfortable again in bed, but one eye managed to pry itself open by a few millimeters. It was unfortunate he was roused from his deep  sleep, but he was sure he’d doze off again soon enough. 

From what he could see, the room was still dark for the most part, his surroundings washed in a rich, navy blue color, a telltale sign that the sun would rise within the next hour or so. Aside from the faint rustling coming from the bathroom, the air was occupied by a serene silence, meaning his innermost thoughts became that much more perceptible to his mind’s ear. 

Sometimes, a part of Ace felt like fate had shined upon him— just a little, just this once— when his mind mulled over his…unique relationship with you, and all the events that led up to this exact moment. He too understood the implications of seeing you like this, but he couldn’t find it within himself to let go and move on. There was just…something about you, something special. 

Even now, he still couldn’t quite understand why you were taking such a big risk and basically throwing your life away by getting comfortable with a pirate like him. The both of you came from two different worlds, the morals embedded within those worlds constantly pitted you against each other. 

But you willingly ignored them, and so did he. 

Perhaps that was the ‘special’ quality about you and this relationship that he still struggled to articulate, how pure and genuine it all felt— how you were. Either way, he was grateful that he wasn’t the only one being a little selfish. And every now and again, Ace might silently thank the universe for allowing him this one thing, even though he hasn’t, and probably never will do anything, to deserve it. 

The increasing volume of footsteps pulled Ace from his thoughts, and soon enough you reappeared in the doorway, making your way back to bed– back home in Ace’s arms.

Your lips parted in a yawn, putting your hand over your mouth to muffle the sound, before carefully climbing over the taller man to reclaim your spot next to him. Ace wasted no time encasing you against him once more, one arm laid lazily across your stomach and the other resting under your neck, acting somewhat as a pillow of sorts.

“...took too long,” the pirate muttered under his breath, the low, vibrating sound of his voice so close to your ear did nothing for your fiercely pulsating heart. It was the only organ in your entire body that seemed to be fully awake right now.

“I wasn’t even gone for that long, ya big baby. Prob’ly less than five minutes.” A soft sigh punctuated your reply, snuggling more into the toned front of Ace’s chest and abdomen as he adjusted the thick blankets over both of your bodies. The covers, as well as the gentle warmth radiating from his exposed skin, provided a steady stream of heat that battled against the crisp morning air, both sensations nearly enough to lull you back to sleep. You enthusiastically pushed aside the fact that you had to get up again in two and a half hours for your shift to patrol around the city.

“Shuddup, let’s go to sleep.” Ace grumbled, pulling you even closer to him so that very little space existed between both of you, and nearly nuzzling his face in the bonnet you wore on your head. A soundless chuckle rumbled within your chest, finding his sleepy and almost pouty tone both amusing and adorable.

However, despite his own request, and the fact that his own eyes were barely open, Ace was finding it difficult to once more quiet his thoughts enough to drift back to sleep. They were still a bit too loud and knocked against his skull too much. 

Such thoughts only seemed to intensify when both of his eyes managed to peel themselves open this time in order to observe your form next to him. From what he could see based on where he laid, Ace silently took note of how tranquil your expression was as your breathing began to even out, how long your eyelashes actually were without your glasses obscuring them, and the small birthmark on your cheek that he developed a habit of kissing. His dark eyes roamed across every inch of your face, and he relished in the soft flesh of your stomach underneath his fingertips, giving it a feather-light squeeze every now and again.

You were here with him— in this bed, hardly wearing anything at all, and practically clinging to the arm wrapped around your abdomen— bound together with a kiss on that fateful night two years ago. You wanted to be here, he knew that. So why was it he still had to wrestle with the phantoms of doubt in the darker sectors of his mind? Why did they haunt him so, and prevent him from just plainly accepting this for what it is? Accept that it was okay to indulge, okay to claim this one thing as his and his alone? He didn’t even claim his own father, but this— you? Oh, how he wanted to be greedy, he yearned for it. But something in him, some dark, caustic, unforgiving thing, made him feel like he shouldn’t.

But didn’t he deserve something nice too? Something that wasn’t, or could no longer be tainted by the wicked and unloving world they were born into?

Ace knew that you cared for him— quite a lot, more than you should. There was a four letter word he might have used to label the way in which you cared about him, and he about you, but he dare not say it. He dared not say it in fear that the universe would snatch it away the moment it left his lips, and reveal that it was only playing a heartless joke on him.

“Hey. Are you… okay? Okay with this, I mean.” The words left his lips without putting a real thought behind them, for his mind was preoccupied with trying to keep itself afloat above the sea of negative ones that tried to carry him off to a place he did not want to visit.

Your left eye opened, then your right, as if opening them would help you better process his sudden question. Your brows furrowed next, digging deeper into your forehead in order to figure out the hidden meaning behind his words— or if there was one to begin with. “I…this position is fine, and I’m comfortable. Unless you want to be closer to the window?” You replied with your own question, uncertainty of what he was asking about thick in your tone. And judging by the way his arm tightened around you by a fraction and the nearly inaudible sigh that left his lips, it became clear that’s not what he was truly asking.

“No, I meant…are you okay with us?” Ace’s already husky voice quieted even more, nearly tapering off into a whisper. But he was pressed close enough to you that you were still able to hear him loud and clear. Something about the way he phrased his question rang a silent alarm in your head, indicating that the forthcoming conversation was going to take a more solemn turn.

With that in mind you shifted in his arms, turning around so that you were now facing Ace directly, still so close that the tips of your noses nearly touched each other. His hold on you readjusted as a result, the tattooed arm once more staking its claim on your waist and effectively trapping you against his front. His sable tresses fell unceremoniously across his face, a few strands nearly covering one of his eyes. Your fingers didn’t miss the opportunity to brush them away. 

“Yes.” Your reply was simple, and you thought it important to make that clear first because something, an emotion you were unable to categorize, flickered in his still-hooded eyes. And something about it worried you. “I am more than okay with us. There isn’t another person I’d rather be with right now.” The fingers lingering on his skin suddenly became your entire palm, as you were now cupping the side of his face.

Ace burned even warmer here compared to the rest of his body, and you found physical comfort in the sensation. His skin seemed to ignite under your touch despite his sleepiness, and the dark-haired pirate was internally grateful that it was still quite dark in your room, so you were unable to see the light flush that was beginning to form underneath his freckled cheeks. 

“Why are you asking?” Your inquiry was as tender as your touch, and it made his chest ache. 

It took Ace several seconds to search for his next words and arrange them in a sentence, for your straightforward reply admittedly caught him off-guard. Now he was unsure if there was a need to continue at all.

But the specters of doubt were ever persistent.

“I just…” The words faded away on his tongue before he could say them and instead, your response rang loud in his head. 

‘There isn’t another person I’d rather be with right now’.

Did you mean that? Have you always felt that way? Did you just happen to say that because he asked a question, because somehow you knew that’s what something in his soul wanted to hear?

And then, Ace found his words again. “You can do better, you know.” His voice turned more gruff, rough around the edges, as if he had to forcefully tug those words from the back of his throat. As if it hurt to say that. “You could, if you wanted. You’re gorgeous. Intelligent, resourceful. You have a respectable career, and you can cook damn good.”

You released a soft chuckle at that last part, finding it comical how he always found a way to talk about how good your food was. But whatever uptick on your lips faded as soon as it came once Ace parted his lips to speak again.

“You don’t have to spend your time, money, or energy on someone like me. You didn’t have to spread those pretty legs of yours for me, either. Didn’t have to let me stay here whenever I come to town. You didn’t even have to let me sleep in this bed so close to you.”

He paused, the muscles laying against and wrapped around you tensed briefly, his eyelashes met the apples of his cheeks when he allowed his eyes to close for a moment. When he opened them again, he found it harder to look at you— if he did, he might crumble away. “You could do better than a pirate like me, who has nothing going for himself except for instability, anger and…and hate. So, why?”

The next words reverberated in the air without Ace even having to say them. Why choose me? Why risk all of that for me?

Similarly, something throbbed uncomfortably within your chest as you listened to him speak, even after he finished and silence descended upon the both of you. 

You could only wonder where this line of questioning originated from. It was uncharacteristic of Ace to voice thoughts of this nature, even more so when there was no prior word or action to lure them forward. You continued to observe him in the quiet, not even realizing that you had been softly caressing his cheek all this while until your hand came to a halt.

Why? Why were you with Ace, entangled in every sense of the word and jeopardizing the life you’ve built for yourself for his sake? The answer seemed so simple, but not as much now that you had to consciously think about it; you somehow struggled to put it into words. 

Ace was like the rays of sunlight that peeked through heavy drapes in the early morning— much like they would soon be in a few hours— or like the flickering flames of a small fire that offered you solace on an unkind wintery night. He was warm and intense, but mellow and tender at the same time, in his own way. He offered you comfort when you needed it, stirred up something in you when you wanted it, brightened your life when you didn’t even realize how dull and monochrome it was. Ace was…

“Allow me to offer a question of my own. Why are you taking an equally significant, if not greater risk, just to curl up in my bed with me? Why come back so often to this town, risking capture, if only to hold me close, eat the food I make, and to make love to me?”

Your inquiries seemed to tug you forward, motivating you to scoot a little closer to Ace so that there was hardly even an iota of space existing in between your faces. His breath hitched quietly in his chest at that, more so when you leaned forward and simply placed your lips on his cheek, right on top of the dozens of prominent and faded freckles that resided there. Something about the gesture felt intentional— like you did not kiss his face, but the light specks on top of it. And thinking about it like that made his taut chest twinge again in a manner he could not describe right now.

Your breaths against his flesh were soft and leveled, and successfully fanned the flames of an even pinker flush to blossom across his visage.

He struggled to give you a coherent answer to your questions because his inner thoughts seemed to reset every time your plush lips came in contact with his face— all gentle like he would break if you applied too much pressure. He never associated that word with himself before, nor had anyone else in his entire life.

So why did he do it? Why did he do any of it? Why was he so attached to you, to your existence, your presence, and everything that reminded him of you? 

Ace knew the answer. 

He fears he’s known it for some time now.

But would it be right— would it be okay to label it with the word that was sitting on his tongue? Did he truly have the capacity to bear the weight of it? Would this blissful reality he found himself nestled in start to unravel the moment he said it? Would the universe truly let him have this one thing to himself, forever?

A feathery, open-mouthed kiss from you onto his nose cut off his thoughts, but confirmed his answer. 

A bleary sort of smile, edges softened by his affection for you, tugged the corners of Ace’s mouth upwards. The hand that encased your waist traveled further downwards to take the meat of your thigh in its grasp, and toss it over his own hips. He had slung your leg over himself in an attempt to hold your bodies inexplicably closer, the feeling of his fingers gliding lazily across your exposed skin caused your pulse to quicken.

“I understand. Thank you.” 

Within another second or two, his mouth eventually met with yours. His lips and yours seamlessly molded together, like they were two carved parts of the same whole. It was a slow, saccharine thing, ultimately leading your fingertips to slide back and thread themselves through his dark locks, and the calloused, hot palm on your thigh to grip the area ever tighter— as if you’d evaporate if he didn’t do so.

Ace loved you— was in love with you. His heart thrummed against his chest when he tossed that fact around in his head, gradually accepting it to be true as he steadily deepened the kiss.

He murmured those three words into your mouth after languidly coaxing it open with his tongue so the wet muscle could slither inside and make a home there. It was barely intelligible, but somehow you knew what he’d said. Such a declaration was only reserved for you, so of course you recognized it. Ace didn’t even want the words to linger in the air, lest the universe heard what he had said. He still thanked it though, grateful to whatever deities thrusted you into his path that night so that he could have this moment with you, and build similar ones like this hereafter.

You reciprocated it, quietly sighing the words back into him and he eagerly swallowed them up, giving your thigh an affectionate squeeze in response.

Briefly, you pulled back, but only by a millimeter— not wanting the cold air of the early morning to catch you yet— and your palm ended up on Ace’s jaw. The pad of your thumb brushed over the sheet of freckles with no particular pattern or rhythm, and you absently thought about how they might be your favorite feature on his entire body. As if to emphasize this point, you pressed a lingering kiss onto its surface again, and for a moment, Ace thought he might shut down. He simply could not comprehend the loving nature behind such a simple act, or why it affected him so; all he could do was offer a small, fond grin.

Time still marched forward, but it graciously allowed the pair of lovers to bask in each other for a little while longer. The sky’s hue would slowly shift from a deep navy blue to a slightly brighter one, causing the dimness of the room to inch back into its corners for the day. The sunlight would soon come.

( # ) @icy-spicy @triangularz @pookieace @ichore @valentineluvu

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Social Battery

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

Alien: Friend Mark, I have a question.

Mark: Shoot.

Alien: Is there something wrong with human Jennifer?

Mark: You know you can just say “Jennifer”, you don’t need to add “human” in front of it.

Alien: Then how would you know of whom I speak?

Mark: I think it’s a safe bet that there aren’t any non-humans with human names.

Alien: I once met a twenty armed Morbigan named “Steve”.

Mark: ……….

Mark: So why do you think something’s up with Jennifer?

Alien: She went to a party with me earlier this week but afterwards she went straight to her room and has not gone to anything else since.

Mark: Is she sick?

Alien: She says she is done with people.

Mark: Ah, okay.

Mark: Don’t worry about it, her social battery is just recharging.

Alien: Is she part android?

Mark: No.

Alien: But you just said she has a battery.

Mark: It’s not a literal battery, more of an expression.

Mark: We use it when we are done interacting with people and don’t want to be around them anymore.

Alien: But I was led to believe humans are social creatures and need social interactions.

Alien: Why would Jennifer not want to be social?

Mark: Her social battery is just smaller and the effort of being social takes a larger drain on that battery until its empty.

Mark: Everything then can start to annoy them at that point and they are just done with the situation.

Mark: People, places, things; they are over all of it and just want to go home and not have to put up with it anymore.

Alien: Why go out at all then?

Mark: Well like you said we are still human and we all need social interactions.

Mark: It’s just that some people only need a small dose of interactions to feel content, others need a large amount.

Mark: So it can range from getting a coffee together with someone to needing to hike a nearby mountain.

Alien: So she is not sick?

Mark: Nah.

Mark: Give her a few days and she’ll be right as rain again.

Mark: If you want to help speed it up, give her some extra blankets and snacks.

Mark: Just be sure not to disturb her too long if you do.

Alien: Why?

Mark: When our social batteries are down our tendencies to be polite and cheery go down as well.

Alien: It can’t be that bad.

Mark: Last time I had no social battery I was forced to go to a party for someone who just quit smoking.

Alien: That doesn’t sound so bad.

Mark: I got them a pack of smokes as a gift and was not invited back after they smoked the entire thing in front of their guests.

[acupofinkedblood]

Banhammer x reader

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

• Ah, the infamous ruthless tyrant of Banland, the raging warden who serves justice violently with a swing of his hammer. Maybe he isn’t the most well-known for his actual name, but if you remind people of how close they are getting to see the warden himself, you will definitely witness a lots of them start to wince in raw distress because oh boy do they know better than to be standing face to face with that guy. Banhammer is a merciless and cocky bastard to the core, whether it is his actual intention to piss people off or not. It’s just his nature to get on people’s nerves at this point. So here’s the one hundred bux question: How the hell did you stand his ass? Or just in case you start listing out your reasons - How the heck did the thing between you two even started and then escalated this far?

• For whatever the reason of a joke, your life has been gifting you a miracle under the disguise of a chaotic fun-sized bomb contains confetti and hot sauce when it has weaved the destined red thread on your pinky to Banhammer’s. Like it or not, that’s your case of a deal now. I won’t ask you why all of every options you have available, you go for a guy with an ego as big as his own muscles with the attitude that has the magic to get on anyone’s nerves unintentionally, because your reason won’t amuse me too much. The question isn’t who falls first, but who has the audacity to admit it first because it feels like an endless game of cat and mouse on the river of playing dumb between you and him

• One thing you have to keep in mind about Banhammer is how the idea of dating a mortal is being associated as a foolish act of sentimental behavior, in which that belief has been engraved deep into his mind with little room for negotiation. Especially when he has seen what happened to his cousin’s family, the downfall and the trauma it has left them make him feel uneasy. Maybe a tad of sympathy for them as well, they were too young to witness that. As if his work’s line doesn’t make him have no time left to breathe — let alone dating stuff — but if he has to date, who would he set his eyes on anyway? There are barely any options for him aside from dating a mortal. Will he be enthusiastic about the idea? Hell no, he has stated his mind and nothing can ever change the way he thinks. Will he regret his own statement because he will literally go against that soon? Absolutely

• Because then he meets you. A mortal, no more and no less. Under normal circumstances, you should have been nothing but another light of life passing through with little significance to his life as any other mortals he used to know before. Nothing but a bystander, as how he usually puts it. And it should just stay like that! Unless you’re a criminal of course. But fate just really loves to laugh into his face — or in this case, his attempt of reminding himself that — in the most unexpected way possible. From a stranger, you start to grow on him, for the worse or the bette. It’s just those simple things, yet it makes him looking over to your direction a bit longer than usual. When Banhammer realizes just how much he is pinning over you, wanting to see you the next time he is out of duty, he knows damn well that he is screwed

• He will be in denial. Yes, you hear me right, there are no ways that he is going to deal with these forsaken feelings that shouldn’t exist in the first place. Don’t get him wrong, he likes you genuinely. You have been a pleasant company in his life, something good to look forward to in the future - in which yes, he adds you to that list of those things he likes in his mind. But the idea of commitment to a mortal is still making him feel uncertain. Like he used to say, that’s just asking for tragedy. Children of the Swords are meant to work, not fool around and see what happens! He isn’t going to be a hypocrite that goes back on his words, that’s just absurd. But on top of that, he will never tell anyone this, but he is scared. Don’t think that with those little emotional intelligence will turn him into a mass of brawny muscle, he still feels things too. And he has a reason to be afraid of that possibility

• You are a mortal, he is a demi-deity. Minus the clear difference in status, he knows you can’t stay with him forever until the sun burns into nothing but a beautiful mass of destruction. He will have to grieve you, as he will outlive you sooner or later. Sure, maybe there exists a chance that he will die first since like it or not, he can still be killed by mortal’s hands. But it isn’t a problem to him. Banhammer can keep his head on his neck as long as he has the situation under control. But you on the other hand, will have to deal with old age. He doesn’t like to think of that view in the future, and the heartbreak that comes with it. Windforce above, he is scared. Banhammer will probably be in denial for who knows how long, as long as it will do him a favor of burying his own feelings. But you know this bastard better than that

• Give him a moment to collect himself, then take out a coin. You think that you will need to flip a coin to see if it’s the head or tails? Wrong, just toss the coin into nowhere because you don’t need to know if fate gives you the green light to engage with this mess the two of you have walked in without even knowing it firsthand. As much as Banhammer tries to resist his own feelings, he just can’t resist you. His mind is currently having a storm because of you after all. Like it’s mentioned earlier, give him some time to relax first. Reassuring him that it doesn’t hurt to listen to what we want in our hearts. Maybe you might jest that after you die, he can keep a little piece of your horn to be a good luck charm. And yeah, he will just rolls his eyes with a clicked tongue. Though it does lighten up the mood somewhat after you two just joke around back and forth about it. He appreciates it, he really does. It gives him the courage to decide on his own

• To say that Banhammer doesn’t have confidence is a wild take because have you seen this man? He knows his worths. He knows that if he steps out to the battlefield, he will knock all of those damn criminals down with little regard to error. To claim that he doesn’t know what is he doing is just pure stupidity — although sometimes you do wonder where the hell is his last brain cell in certain moments — he believes in his strength and loves to take on challenges, even going as far as making things harder for himself just to prove how strong he is. Maybe when you step into his life, he does the most questionable thing ever just to impress you. Though it does look silly most of the time, but hey, at least it’s sort of cute

• He strives to be the best, nothing less than that. Banhammer has that competitive spirit that allows him to achieve even the impossible at the nick of time. Sometimes those banters that occur between you two happen just because he finds it so necessary to boost his own name over the moon, especially when it comes to his work. If it isn’t obvious, he can be petty if you’re better than him in what he is an expert at, golf is included. This bastard will literally sulk if you take away his chance to impress you. It’s mostly lighthearted as he will pin it as a goal to surpass you the next time the two of you get around this topic again. His ego is as big as how he looks after all, don’t be so surprised when you see that shit-eating grin looking at you when he wins again

• Banhammer does things in his own way without further useless elaborations. He just acts on whatever he deems fit. Sometimes it brings him quiet the troubles whether it’s with you or his team. When he makes a flaw, he will bring up a scroll of excuse to get his point across. But don’t think he will just repeat that mistake. Banhammer knows how to look back to learn from his mistakes. He just does that without the need of anyone to notice and call it out. It’s irritating to him. Honestly it’s probably the fact he wants to have that feeling when everything is within his grasp so it won’t stray the other way too far. No one needs to point out his mistakes after he acknowledged it. You don’t need to repeat yourself to him, he knows

• Oh boy may the SFOTHs be at your mercy because this guy will definitely tease you until you can’t see the light anymore, especially before the two of you were officially in a relationship. It feels like most of the bones in his body are all mean ones at this point. Sometimes you might wonder if he’s just pulling your leg or does he actually mean what he says. Usually it’s just something about your personality, appearance, work-related stuff or even just out of nowhere stuff when he is beside you. As if that’s the only way he has in mind to strike up a conversation with you: To begin it with a short joke. Don’t worry too much, he means well to a certain extent, so just keep your head up

• This might surprise you but he is actually a decent leader. He has a police team under his command at Banland. Some people might assume that he would treat his subordinates like how he treated his prisoners, but they have never been more than just wrong in their life when saying that. He only cause harm to those dipshits who disobey the obvious law. He still knows what is right and not, making the assumption that he treats everyone like shit is so unfair. Banhammer looks at his subordinates like family at some point. They can even call him out on being stupid when they see him blindfolded himself then almost walking into lava, and he doesn’t take it to heart. They can jest around with him that way with ease

• Banhammer can be such a flirt sometimes. But do keep in mind that he is also pretty out of pocket here and there. Not much of a shocker, isn’t it? When the two of you don’t know each other, he keeps things professional in the box. When you slowly starts to get to know him more personally as the feeling is somehow mutual, that’s the peak of him becoming such a bastard. It’s that line between keeping things casual and making you feel wanted. He literally says the most ridiculous things ever with a straight face. Definitely the type to make suggestive jokes and then laugh his throat off when seeing how flustered you are. But when you return the favor back to him, his brain just stops functioning for a good few seconds as he is pretty much screaming internally like a teenager

• Once you gets to know him better aside from that warden persona he has almost all of the time on while he is at duty, you will soon realize that he also has a heart. Banhammer has a soft side that he hides under the amount of armor wore on his body. He keeps it to himself because letting others get their hands on his ‘weakness’ isn’t what he looks forward to at all. Being soft is equal to being weak, that’s what he keeps repeating inside his mind. But well, not when you manage to work your way into his heart. Spending times alone with you, letting you know the fullest of him - it suddenly doesn’t feel so bad anymore

• This is a hot take but despite that rough and cocky exterior, he is actually pretty lovely in a relationship. Surely that he won’t just flip out immediately and turns into a completely different person when being with you, but you can notice that obvious change of tone in his voice when speaking to you. It feels much more gentle than when he is speaking to someone else. Banhammer isn’t too much of a romantic guy, but he knows how to appreciate a special someone in his life. Each touch he lovingly ghosts against your skin, to caress your face or to rub your back, he means every single one of them. The way he tries to deny the fact that he is nervous because of this particular relationship — which is completely new to him surprisingly — is just adorable while he glances over at you. But you know he holds no heat between those eyes, because the very next moment he already presses a kiss onto your lips as an attempt to prove you his words

• He is pretty much protective of you. This doesn’t just come from the difference in power scales of you and him, but also from the fact that he is worried about those pesky criminals that will seek you out for revenge against him. Although Banhammer is confident of his own strength to protect the two of you, and if you can also fight, he respects that too. But when he has to be away for investigation at other regions, he can’t help but be a little obnoxious when making sure that you are safe and sound at home. Even when you can kick ass, you can’t kick multiple asses at once! And he is even more of a worrywart if you can’t fight much. The thought of someone coming for you when he isn’t there to keep you unharmed is terrifying. You can’t really blame him when wanting to check up on you regularly like that. He means well, please keeps that in mind. Anyone who touches you the wrong way, even just a little bruise, will see a fate worse than Ghostwalker’s purgatory itself. Banhammer swears it, and you knows he takes that seriously

• He works out a lots, mainly to train himself to avoid getting sloppy the next time he is out chasing a certain cultist’s ass off. Seeing him working out is actually pretty intriguing, especially when you take a look at his schedule. It does rotate depending on how the day is going, but nonetheless, it’s all intense as hell. You’re free to join him if you want, but don’t feel awful when you can’t keep up with him and have to give up halfway. Banhammer will laugh at it, saying that you’re already lucky enough you don’t get a stroke then evaporate into nowhere with your determination. He is a demi-deity after all, it’s natural for people like you to be unable to catch up to him. Before you sulk and leave the place, he might tell you to get on his back as he starts doing pushups. You don’t want to miss that invitation, it’s actually pretty amusing when he pulls that off. That’s his way to keep you around and feel useful, and it works like a charm

• His wings are also quite the fascination. It’s not uncommon to be dumbfounded when you realize he has those wings which he can summon under the form of solidified energy at will, since he doesn’t feel the need to let anyone know about it. Poor those criminals when they have to see him charge with that ungodly speed of his wings directly at them though. But for you, things are pretty different than that comical scenario. Banhammer won’t mind holding you while flying around if that’s what you want. But do expect that this guy will still be an asshole about the entire thing as he will playfully threaten to drop you. He will never do that, just so you know. It only happens the few first time you two flying together

• And how can one even forget his unmistakable four eyes? With how much he blindfolded them by his own hands just so he can challenge himself even more, that wince when he takes it off and sees the light poking directly into his four eyes is always a laughable sight. How does it feel to not only have a pair of eyes looking at your direction, but two coming from the same person? When Banhammer takes off his blindfold, his expression will be easier to keep track on as his emotions really just be given away in his eyes. You know just how he is feeling at the moment just by looking into his eyes: Upset, happy, confused, worried…It feels like he is vulnerable in front of you and only you. On the side note, he can’t look directly into your eyes for too long since he sucks at eye contact without a blindfold. it just feels funny in a questionable way in his mind

• His hugs are suffocating in the best way possible. It’s firm, a bit rough yet still has that soothing effect that is able to calm your nerves down when needed. It’s hard to struggle out of his hug, but it doesn’t feel bad at all. You already knows just how strong he is with all that muscles and stuff going on inside his body, and with how he wields his massive hammer with ease too, so it’s natural to assume that Banhammer has that deadly powerful grip that can easily bruise you if he isn’t being careful. Honestly he is reluctant to give you physical affection at first, mainly because he doesn’t want to underestimate his strength and hurt you intentionally. It takes him quite a while as well as a good load of reassurance that he won’t crush your bones that easily — Mind you, he can but he won’t, just saying — until he eventually gives in

• Whether it’s because of the fact that Banland are surrounded by lava pool scattered almost everywhere on the surface or it’s just the fact that he is a walking personal heater, Banhammer’s body is more than just warm. Hold the hot jokes, I know you were about to say it. Yup, hold your horse buddy. But he does feel like a walking fireplace for most of the time, especially during winter for some reasons that you both can’t fully comprehend. He is the prefect partner to cuddle beneath the blanket with when you have a long day, as it’s highly recommended that you should do so in rainy or snowy weather. Summer can be a bit insufferable though, since his body feels too warm to your taste. You will probably have a heatstroke hugging him without an air conditioner in the room

• Sometimes he says blunt things that will hurt your feelings. He is rather emotionally inept, oblivious to other’s emotions around him. Banhammer tends to be brutally honest with his mind, saying things that can hurt others without realizing the actual effect behind it. Even when people get annoyed or upset with him, he might fail to even notice at first. Sometimes it can lead to a serious verbal fight between the two of you. That is until you have to point directly into his face and makes a statement about how hurt you felt when he said that does he realize he has screwed up. Banhammer is pretty much dumbfounded at the weight of his own words to you. Seeing you upset makes he feel bad. Banhammer will try his best to make things right again so that he can see that smile which he loves soon. Please know that he is trying, he doesn’t mean to hurt you

• Banhammer cares for you. If you’re mad at him, he will do just anything to make it up for you, even at the most absurd request you make him do - which he will begrudgingly accept his fate because he knows damn well just how angry you are. He is, surprisingly, willing to take a step back in an argument when things are too heated. Only you have that privilege though, other time he will just grunt back as if he is about to chew the other speaker’s head off. He mainly figures out how to apologize to you on his own without the help of anyone, it’s just embarrassing if one day he comes up to his subordinates and ask what should he do when his beloved is mad at him. They will laugh the living hell out of themselves. But then again, he does keep in mind what do you like so he can get it or do it in addition to his apology. Sometimes he does it pretty stiff since it feels off to actually apologize to someone. But hey, it’s the genuine thought that counts

• Windforce might have heard of you, mainly because of how Banhammer has quite the deep connection with his momma. This guy is a certified mama’s boy after all. He will tell her everything about you once he gets the chance to see his momma again. Windforce is pretty taken back by the news of her son’s selection in partner, a mortal, to be specific. She does doubt you at first due to her worries towards her son. But them she has came into terms with it as she knows there are no point interfering Banhammer’s business. She doesn’t have time to meet you, as she is pretty much occupied with her own business. Yet she will still send her blessings to you, a favor from her for making her son that happy. As long as Banhammer is contented with you, she doesn’t see the point in being against the whole thing

• His strong sense of justice is inherited from Windforce. Although it doesn’t sound that fitting, ‘justice’ and ‘Windforce’ together, since most demons know her because of her ruthlessness. But little did you know about the connection between using force and serving righteousness. Her justice doesn’t involve the gray between black and white, and it can blind her to the extreme point. Banhammer looks up at his mother, so he has taken her justice with him. The reason he resolves to use violence is because it teaches a better lesson than normal words - a good point, because even Banhammer knows that he sucks at using words to find a peaceful solution with those pesky criminals. He cringes at the lowly idea

• There will be a day that you will be but a memory in his mind. Banhammer used to be scared of the thought of you dying due to your mortality before him — and for your information, he still feels that uneasy feeling whenever he is reminded of it — but seeing those happy moments between the two of you, he knows that the film of you running in his mind will be a pleasant one. He will grieve you, of course he will. But then those good memories will help him back onto his feet once again. Banhammer will convince himself he that you are watching over him and his future. The thought of your spirit just cheering on his accomplishments is kinda funny, but endearing. Sometimes he might look at you with this silly question in his mind: If he can go back in time, will he still make the decision of this lifelong commitment with you

• And he answers it on his own with no hesitation: Always. No matter how many choices he is allowed to make, he will still come to you. Like it or not, aside from his mother and his works of serving justice, you will also one if his most important responsibilities who he adores and cherish until everything returns to ashes. You are his lover after all, why wouldn’t he choose you? He makes a vow to stay with you no matter what happens. Despite that cocky attitude that makes you want to punch him into the oblivion, you can’t deny that his soft side does melt your heart. Please remember just how much you mean to him, because you are the best thing he has ever happened in his life, he has the right to be proud of that

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Note: I’m so sorry for the delay! Hopefully these are long enough to make up for my disappearance (*´-`)

[leandra-kinard]

I think it's more of the other way around?

You do have the right idea of him and how to write him; the things you listed are things Buck would have usually done (or if not, e.g. in case of the anniversary gift, there'd have to be a good reason for it, such as Buck taking it to heart when they, at one point, said to take things slow and being unsure whether getting an anniversary gift was a step too much or not).

The issue is that the writers didn't do him justice in season 8!!

This is a problem that has also at least partially contributed to me not writing a fix-it yet. I don't even know where to start, what to fix and how, because so much was simply off in season 8 (most of all what even to do with the whole Abby dilemma, but that's unrelated to your issue).

Anyway, write him like you understand him to be. Wish-fulfillment or not, it might just be the same way a good portion of the fandom want to read him, too.

I made a comment the other day about not knowing how to write Buck, and the more I think about it, the more I realize I really DON'T know how to write Buck, and it's becoming a problem.

I think of myself as loving Buck. I understand what draws people to him: sunshine, eager to help, surprising, charmingly oblivious -- funny and big-hearted, if you will. And I've seen Buck Begins, I have a basic grasp of the abandonment issues. But I don't have a handle on how he makes decisions, much less his inner monologue, or how to integrate both his worst and his best qualities.

And the biggest problem is I'm mad at him. I look at his six months with Tommy, and I'm mad that he never showed up for him; never asked about his exes or his sexuality; didn't get him an anniversary present; didn't tell those girls he was with his boyfriend; flirted his way out of serious conversations; didn't consider moving into Tommy's place; hasn't reflected on the breakup; won't call him, for no clear reason; never said I love you.

I'm sure I'm being too hard on Buck, but I keep getting stuck there. What I want more than anything is for Buck to empathize with Tommy, to notice when something's wrong without being told, and I don't know how to get him there in a way that doesn't just feel like wish fulfillment. At worst, I'm afraid following this train of thought will lead me to conclude that Buck isn't right for Tommy, and that's obviously not a fun place to end up.

Anyway, this is not a vent post: I'm sincerely inviting Buck understanders to share their wisdom, because I'm not going to be able to write a fic without it.